I exist.

CN: Harassment, assault.
Very long post.

I'm so tired of seeing people say things such as "but what was she doing that caused the man to harass her" or "she probably provoked or lead him on in some way" as if provocation is an acceptable reason for harassment and/or violence against another human. As if there's reason to blame the victim. As if there's any way to justify a person harming or threatening to harm a human being that isn't doing anything to harm another.

Example: I was at a club with my boyfriend and a friend. I left them at a table to go to the restroom which happened to be upstairs and on the other side of the club. I was at the elevator waiting for it to come down when a guy at a table near the elevator got my attention and motioned for me to come over to him. I stayed where I was and he tried to call me over again. I was a little drunk and for some reason thought he must have thought I was a waitress. I informed him I didn't work there and willed the elevator to hurry the hell up. He got angry. "Bitch I know you don't work here. Get the fuck over here." I declined and told him to leave me alone. He stood up and said, "bitch bring your ass over here" and started moving towards me. The elevator finally came down but I nearly ran in my heels back to our table so I could get my boyfriend so I could hopefully go back and get safely to the restroom. As I walked back up to the elevator this man stood up again and started to address me again before he noticed Shane standing there. He sat back down and left me alone. Later, this man followed us out to the patio and didn't address me. He apologized to Shane because this guy didn't realize I was there with a man already and said he wouldn't have said anything to me had he known. Shane told him I was the one that deserved the apology. The guy mumbled at me before going back inside.

Another instance. I was at a BBQ. A guy I had only met when I had arrived with a friend to this BBQ came to sit next to me on the bench I was sitting on. My friend was on the other side of the yard playing volleyball and I was just relaxing and people watching. We talked for a little while mostly about sports and music. He said something funny and I started laughing. Then his hand was in my hair and he was sitting much closer to me. I told him to stop touching my hair. He did but then put his hand on my knee. I told him not to put his hands on me at all. He asked me if I wanted to go to his car and "have some fun." I told him I didn't and told him he had the wrong idea. I told him I was not interested. He put his hand on my thigh and asked if I was sure and told me we've been having a good time so far. I removed his hand for him and told him not to lay a hand on me again. I got up to go join my friend and he grabbed my arm to stop me. He asked if I was seriously leaving him there after he had just spent a whole twenty minutes talking to me. I again told him I wasn't interested and didn't want to continue spending time with him and told him to let go of me. "If you see me naked, you'll change your mind" was his response to that. He tightened his grip on my arm and I remember leaning down quickly, pressing my other arm into his throat and telling him to let go of my arm. He immediately let go and called me a crazy whore before shoving me away from him and moving away.

Another instance. I was walking through an outdoor shopping center when two men tried to call me over to them. I ignored them. They continued catcalling and yelling at me. I told them politely that I'm not interested. They started following me. They don't stop when I tell them I'm really not interested and request they leave me alone. They still follow me and started insulting me, angry that I wouldn't give them time and attention. I ducked into a large retail store, scared and looking for security. The two men didn't follow me into the store but they loiter around outside on the sidewalk while I figure out what to do. I call the police. No one ever came. I didn't go to another store and started shaking once I got back into my car and locked the door.

Last example. I was in a bar with a group of friends. I was dancing with one of my friends while our other friends played darts and pool. A guy that was friends with one of my friends older brother came up behind me and started dancing. I had met this guy before at a house party but didn't really know him. Dude started grinding up against me immediately. I put space between us and told him I didn't want him touching me. He responded with, "well you're in a club dancing so you're basically inviting people to be on you." He tried to close the space between us and I again moved away telling him to stop and telling him to leave me alone. He said something about me playing hard to get and was back on me. I shoved him away from me. He grabbed me by the hair and spat in my face. I grabbed his wrist and twisted his arm around hard to get my hair released from his grasp. He cursed at me and started screaming. A bouncer came over to seperate us and then my friends and I are kicked out of the club 2 minutes later. Creepy guy happened to be friends with the man that managed that club. We left and dude followed us outside to call us names and taunt us for a moment before his manager buddy came out to collect him. I was 18 when this happened and it was the first time I'd experienced something like that. Unfortunately it wasn't also the last.

I have dozens upon dozens of stories of men yelling at me, men catcalling me, men threatening me, men getting angry because I wouldn't give them the time and attention they felt entitled to, men harassing me, men stalking me, men reacting violently and men ignoring and disrespecting me and the boundaries I set.

And there are people that still want to ask, "well what did you do to provoke them?"

Exist. I exist and that's enough. People have it in their heads that men NEED some kind of provocation, some kind of reason for doing things like this. Maybe because it's easier than accepting that it can happen to anyone and without provocation, just because. Because someone felt entitled to time and attention from another person. Because someone felt they'd earned something they were being denied. Because someone simply wanted to.

There is no excuse for harassment and violence. Stop making excuses and placing blame on anyone and/or anything that isn't the person comitting these acts as they're the person that should be held accountable for their actions and choices.

You're Never Too Old To Have Fun

You're never too old to do things you enjoy doing. If it makes you happy, why put an age limit on it? Whether that's coloring books, riding all the rides at an amusement park, water gun fights, board games, dodge ball, going to a paintball park, video games, stomping in a puddle once in a while or anything else that makes you feel good. 

I don't understand when people stop doing things they enjoy because they feel like they're "too old" to be doing them anymore. If it's for a health reason that you have to give it up, that's unfortunate but you taking care of you is more important than any fun thing you do.

If you're just quitting something you still like doing because you feel like you shouldn't be doing it anymore because you're "too old" to be doing something immature or silly, that's nonsense. You need things that bring you joy, even if it's just thirty minutes with a video game or a spirited game of dodge ball.

"Being an adult" and "growing up" shouldn't mean you also have to give up things that bring you happiness. I know several people that think I'm a rather immature 30 year old and honestly, I couldn't care less. If it makes me "less of an adult" to anyone because I still color in coloring books (even before my therapist had me pick up art therapy specific coloring books) or thinks I'm "immature" because I've organized a water balloon/water gun fight with other "immature adults" then cool, you're certainly entitled to your opinion. I however, don't currently and likely won't ever agree with that sentiment. 

I don't know where people think getting older and becoming an adult means you have to just stop having fun. Being an adult is stressful. Working so you can pay bills and make a living is stressful. Being an adult in itself isn't that fun. It's full of responsibilities and things that are inherently not fun. That's not a bad thing, that's just the course of life. I'm glad I'm not a child anymore. I love having my own place, cooking my own meals and creating a life for myself and my partner. As stressful as adulthood can be, I'm fine where I'm at. I also just refuse to believe that I can't also still have fun and fun as an adult doesn't have to be dinner parties and happy hours and trips to the museum. I do love all of those things as well but there's also nothing wrong with having a water balloon fight or planning a trip to a paintball course to climb obstacles and fire off speedy little balls of paint at a high rate of speed in hopes they'll explode in bright colors once it hits it's target (AKA your friend.) 

If you don't enjoy things, it's cool to let them go and not do them anymore. There are some things I used to enjoy that if you presented me to them now, I'd decline because they don't hold any appeal for me anymore. Some things you do grow out of or simply lose interest in, that's also just how life goes. We're growing and evolving and that includes our interests and hobbies, too. Just don't deprive yourself of things you still enjoy doing because you feel like you're "too old" to enjoy them anymore. 

I Don't Care What He Would Prefer I Do With My Hair

I keep my hair cut short during Spring and Summer. Texas gets HOT and having a lot of hair when it's so hot out makes me feel miserable. So, I cut most of my hair off until what's left is resting around my earlobes. Nothing feels better than that first day where I walk out into the warm sunshine and feel so much lighter and more free because I've lost five or more inches of hair.

I also have a tendency to change my hair color multiple times a year. I favor bright colors but my job doesn't allow any fun hair colors so the most I can get away with are shades of red. Which is fine because I love having red hair. I also play around with hair chalk on weekends to add more funky colors to my hair since hair chalk washes right out.

Two questions I get most often about my hair have nothing to do with the great work my stylist does or the funky hair chalks I like to add in to my colored hair.

The two I get the most are the same question inquiring about separate things and for the most part, these questions come from other women.

"What does your boyfriend think of your hair being that color?'

"Is your boyfriend a short hair man?"/"What does your boyfriend think of your hair being that short?"

This annoys me because what my boyfriend thinks of my hair doesn't factor in to what I do to my hair. It's MY hair and he has no claim over my hair and what I do with it.

My hair color changing he's fine. He often shows me pictures of beautiful, brightly colored hair to give me ideas for things I can do for hair chalk or for when I work in a place that doesn't have such a strict dress code.

My boyfriend likes long hair. He gets a little sad when I go to cut off my long wavy locks at the start of the hot hot heat. He never tries to talk me out of it or never tries to pretend he has any say over what I do with my hair though because he understands his preference for my hair isn't relevant.

It's not that I don't appreciate his opinion on things because I do. I talk things over with him all the time and regularly bounce ideas off of him because I value his opinion and enjoy getting his perspective on things. How I dress, what eye makeup I wear, what I do with my hair and superficial aesthetic things like those have no real impact on our relationship. It's not like I cut my hair to spite him. How I look is up to me and I do what I'm comfortable with and I do what makes me happy.

What typically follows these questions is, "well if he prefers long hair, why would you cut it short?"

Again, IT'S MY HAIR AND I WANTED IT SHORT TO BE MORE COMFORTABLE AND BECAUSE IT'S CUTE SO I CUT IT SHORT. I don't need anyone's approval to do something to my appearance.

I've never understood the notion that if the person I'm in a relationship doesn't like a certain aesthetic then it means I shouldn't do it anymore. Thankfully, I'm with a person that doesn't try to dictate or pressure me into looking a certain way. He might not like the short hair or the lime green eyeliner but he doesn't try to discourage me from doing things that I enjoy because they're not his preference. He doesn't pressure me or shame me. He understands that I'm the one in control of my body and in control of what I do with it. As long as I'm not hurting myself, he doesn't care as long as I'm happy.

Now if only other people would be as awesome as my boyfriend and stop asking me (and I'm sure asking other people) why I do things to my appearance for myself without considering what he would prefer, that would be rad.

A social media rant.

I have a coworker that posts about her boyfriend on social media nearly every day. I don't care what people do with their Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Whatever Social Media Account You Prefer To Use. You want to post about your significant other every day? Cool. You want to share cool recipes you want to try? Cool. Post pictures of your dog in weird outfits on the regular? Okay. Talk about your kids doing kid things? Whatever floats your boat.

I don't understand why people that share parts of their lives on social media get mad when people comment on them doing that, though. 

Examples:

The aforementioned coworker was in a rage because someone had informed her that she and her boyfriend post too much about their relationship so she was planning on hiding her from her news feed. Coworker got so mad over this. Now, I don't fault her for getting upset because her friend could have hid her without saying anything or could have just ignored the posts. I'm friends on Facebook with this coworker and I just ignore her daily posts about her boyfriend. It's not that hard to just scroll on by or hide people from your feed if you don't want to un-friend them but don't want to deal with whatever they're posting.

Anyway, bits of coworkers rant went like this:

"People just need to stay out of my business."

"People need to keep their noses out of my relationship."

"Who does she think she is, commenting on anything about my relationship?"

"I'm just tired of people making comments to me or him or us or on facebook."

Uh, well, you're posting about it on a public platform where people can comment on things so..... huh? I get that the way her friend reacted could be seen as rude but then she went on to generalize further about how people in general should just keep their opinions to themselves and basically never comment on anything unless they're giving compliments.

I responded, "I don't care what you post but I think it's silly to get angry at people for commenting on stuff you post publicly. If they're being jerks, sure, get mad and tell them they're being dicks. But if you just don't want anyone to good naturedly tease you or make a comment ever, then keep it off social media."

Her: "They can just unfriend me then. I don't even care."

Sharing your thoughts and experiences on social media doesn't mean people can be terrible to you just because they can but it doesn't mean you can tell other people how they can react to what you share, either. Again, I'm totally down with calling out someone for being a jerk because I'm no stranger to doing that when it's warranted. Telling someone to stay out of your business when the business you're talking about is all the stuff you post about in an open forum? 

You want people to stay out of your business and not comment on your life and/or your relationships? Stop posting those details on social media where anyone can see it and make comments on it. It ceases to be your private business when you post it to a public social media platform. In a way, it's like how celebrities get so little privacy because so much about them is out there.  Only with you, you're the one putting everything out there for public consumption. You put the details of your personal life in a public space on a regular basis and it infringes on your privacy. I'm not sure why this is such a hard concept.

I miss her.

It's been 5 months since my friend's suicide.

Tomorrow would be her 30th birthday so I've been thinking about her a lot the last few days. There won't ever be a Whirlyball party or a super nerdy Cosplay party or any other event or conversation again. No baking her any birthday cupcakes. No card. Nothing. No goofy banter. No random talks. No weird little messages. Just nothing. The random conversations and dumb little jokes is what I miss the most.

I miss her sassy little smile and her wit and the weird things we used to joke about. I haven't been bothered by it much lately but significant dates and events of deceased loved ones are always tough. Especially the first ones you go through after they're gone. And then I think about how awful her family must feel, how much they must be hurting with her being gone and I feel terrible for them. I know how I feel and can't even fathom how they must feel. I haven't deleted my friend from my facebook yet so I've seen every time a family member posts how much they miss her. It was one of them posting something this evening about her birthday coming up tomorrow that set me off tonight.

I feel like I should be fine by now, that I should be passed the tears and the hurt. And mostly I am but there's still some part of me that hurts so much when I think about or am reminded of her. Though it doesn't happen every time. Sometimes I will see or hear something that reminds me of her and I just smile. When it hurts though, it's this raw space that feels like a wound that just won't heal. Then I go through all the emotions again. Crying because I'm sad and miss her. Angry because she would still be here if she hadn't pulled a trigger. Guilty for getting angry because I so completely understand that mental illness is a bitch. Then I'm sad again and overwhelmed because it's so much to feel and it always rushes over you quickly. Like a sucker punch that hits you hard in multiple places simultaneously.

Suicide is hard. If it's something you humor the idea of or think about at all, please reach out and get help. You might feel like no one cares but if you're gone, you'll leave behind people like me. People that will miss you more than you might think possible. People that will cry for you. People that will be left with memories and pictures. People that will wish they could hug you and laugh with you and plan with you and celebrate birthdays with you and have the dumbest most pointless conversations in the world with you. People that will wish they could say things to you that they didn't get to say because they didn't realize that last time was their last chance. People that will feel pain so raw and so deep that it will reduce them to a sobbing aching mess sometimes.

No matter how alone you feel or how much you're hurting, it can get better. Not even just for those people that you'll be leaving behind but for yourself. You're worth it and you're not beyond fixing. You aren't broken. You aren't ruined. There's no shame in not being able to overcome things on your own. We all need help sometimes and that's nothing to be embarrassed about or ashamed of.

And as I've stated in previous posts, that's said as someone who has been there and someone that still struggles sometimes.

If you're struggling in any way, talk to someone. That first step, that decision to reach out for help and making yourself do it is the scariest part. Talk to a teacher, a friend, a coworker, a parent, a sibling, an aunt, your partner, a professional, anyone you feel safe and comfortable talking to. You can email me if you can't or don't want to talk to someone you know. Call the Suicide Prevention Lifeline (1-800-273-8255) and talk to them. If you'd rather chat online, 7 Cups Of Tea is a free, confidential online one-on-one or group chat with a real people there to listen and help you.

It can get better.

Much to her surprise. I'm not a lesbian.

One of my new coworkers was surprised to find out I have a boyfriend. Not because I'm hideous looking or because I'm a horrible person. She assumed I'm a lesbian. The logic (and I use that word incredibly loosely) behind her theory was very special.

Her: "You like sports, like a lot. Like you seem to know baseball and hockey better than the guys here do. And plus you drink scotch and that's a total man thing. Plus you listen to metal music and like muscle cars and you're into shooting archery. And you dislike shopping and don't like chick flicks. And you don't seem feminine really very much. Plus your Nike's look like they're men's Nike's. I mean not like you're manly but you're not girly at all and seem pretty tomboyish like you'd be better off being like in a guy's body, you know? So I really thought you were a lesbian." 

Just.... really? A person's interests, dislikes and personality in general does NOT indicate what they're sexuality is. Also, I did at length explain why her assumption was stupid, offensive and horribly problematic. I'm pretty sure she hates me now but I think I'll be able to live with myself. Also, quite happy in my current womanly body and definitely do not wish I were a man. Getting erections at random times and no longer having boobs anymore? No thanks, I'm fine here because this works for me and I'm good with who I am. I'm a big fan of doing what works for you, what makes you comfortable and what makes you happy. As long as you're not hurting yourself, hurting others or doing something that could cause potential harm. 

I have never understood why things have to be sectioned off as "boy things" and "girls things." I think that's partly because I grew up as a girl that had little interest in the "girl things" I was supposed to like and much more interest in the "boy things" that weren't for me. Gender binary can go die in a fire now, thanks.

Growing up, I liked LEGO's and Ghostbusters. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and Batman were idols of mine. I liked sports. I liked music. I liked painting. I had an obsession the trains (that still exists to this day.) I loved books. I liked building things with my hands and science sets were rad, too. I liked the color purple. I loved art. I loved monster trucks. I liked playing outside and getting dirty. I liked hanging out on the garage floor with my grandpa while he worked on cars. I liked doing crafts. I was fascinated with pirates and dragons instead of the princesses I was supposed to be interested in. I pretended to be a Ghostbuster, a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle or Batman in whatever made up fantasy game I was playing with siblings or friends. I loved stuffed animals. It's not like I didn't like "girl things" just on some kind of principle because there were things considered as "girl things" I did like. I remember being a kid and wondering why it was weird for girls to want to play with Tonka trucks or why boys weren't supposed to want an Easy Bake Oven. It always made sense to me that you should like what you like as long as it makes you happy but that's not what society told you back then. It's largely still not what it tells you today, sadly. 

Bless my parents, they didn't try to push stuff off on me that I didn't care for. They stopped buying me dolls and other "girl things" and just let me have the things I was interested in instead of the things I was supposed to be interested in. Sometimes those were "girls things" and sometimes they were "boy things." I called them toys and hobbies. I know, weird.

So hearing my cw explain to me why she just assumed I was a lesbian brought me back to that. I do love sports and have since I was a little kid. I was also an athlete growing up and happened to play all of my favorite sports at one time or another. I'd hope I'd have a pretty good understanding of the games given the time spent playing and the even longer amount of time spent watching. Girls like sports, too. I swear it's not some trick and no, we're not all trying to impress the mens by liking sports and showing off our sports knowledge. Some of us (and there are a lot of us, I can direct you to tons of avid sports fans on Twitter that identify as female) just really enjoy sports, k.

I get that because of movies and television there are things considered as "man drinks." Men drink beer. Men drink scotch. Men drink whiskey. If it's a brown liquor, men put that in a glass and knock that right back. SO DO WOMEN. I'm not the only woman I know who can enjoy a nice glass of whiskey. 

And yes, I wear men's Nike's because it's really fucking hard to find women's running shoes I like that aren't doused in colors I hate. If I'm paying $70+ for some shoes, I'm going to LOVE the way they look as much as I love the way they feel on my feet. 

I'm not listing out why every example she used to come to a conclusion about my sexuality because no matter what else was used as an example, it's not indicative to how I identify my sexual orientation. 

I'm bisexual so don't think I'm ranting because she assumed I was a lesbian and OHMYGOSH HOW DARE SHE. But really, how dare she drop her jaw and let her eyes fly open in surprise at the mention of my boyfriend that she assumed I didn't have because I'm like a totally masculine tomboy brochick who obviously wishes she were a guy so obviously I like girls? Because every dude on the planet only wants women and if you're not a heterosexual female it's apparently because you wish you were a man but you're in deep denial or some such bullshit. I digress. I'm mainly irritated this way of thinking is STILL so prevalent in today's society. I know I'm not alone in thinking you should like what you like, as long as you're not doing harm to yourself or others, as long as it makes you happy.

 Aside from assigning things as appropriate based on your gender, another issue I have is assuming because a person's personality doesn't fit the mold here then they obviously belong there. I'm not girly enough so obviously I'm not heterosexual. I'm not but that's not an indicator to make a judgement off of. Being an "ultra feminine" woman  is not a sign of being heterosexual anymore than being a woman who is "tomboyish" is a sign of a women being gay. 

All of these silly preconceived notions about how people should be this way or should be that way or vice versa are really insane. You really can feel like there's something wrong with you when so many people and so much of what you see around you is telling you the way you are isn't right. That can be horribly confusing and quite damaging to a person.

There's no set way to be. There are no guidelines that say if you like these things and act this way then you go here in this box. But if you act this way and like these things, please go here instead. If everyone were meant to be the same way, we would be. We're not, so it shouldn't be so difficult of a concept for people to grasp or accept.

It Can Get Better....

**Trigger warning: suicide**

My mom's birthday was yesterday. I realized last night that I had several more people to get birthday cards for in the next few months. My sister's birthday is next month, my dad's is in December, my youngest brother's is in January and I have a small handful of friends and a couple coworkers all with birthdays coming up in the next few months. I got the clever idea that I should make a quick list so as not to forget anyone and then go buy all the cards I need for the next few months all at once so I don't have to run to the store in the name of birthday cards nine times over the next few months. I also wouldn't have to worry about having to run out last minute in case I ended up losing track of the days and then remembering, "hey I need to send so-and-so a card because they're birthday is two days away!"

So I got my list together, double checked to make sure I wasn't forgetting anyone I planned on sending one to and then set off to get what I needed.

I love sending cards and letters. I'm one of those weird people that still enjoys hand writing out letters and thank you notes and sending them off in the mail. I almost always write an extra little note inside of cards I send because there's almost always something missing that I want said in whatever card I find. 

Sometimes, I hate looking through cards, though. Sometimes, I'm looking through cards looking for a specific one. In this instance, the birthday card for my sister. Then it springs to mind that, hey, Amanda's birthday is the same day as my sisters is! I think for a second I need to get her one too and then I remember that no, no I don't need to get her one because she's been dead since she killed herself this passed June. And then I'm standing in Hallmark with tears rushing down my face while I stand in front of a row of cards that I can't really see anymore. I'm sad and I'm crying and I'm trying to stop and I feel so grateful I have on a hat that covers half of my face and relieved the ladies in that store leave you alone unless you need their help and angry at myself for breaking down in public and sad again all because I can't buy my friend a birthday card because she's gone. 

So I leave without getting anything because I can't stop crying and I don't like to cry in public. I don't like to cry in front of people I know. Mostly I don't want to make a scene and don't want to explain to strangers why I'm standing in Hallmark with tears rushing down my face and I needed quiet and solitude to get myself calmed down again. So I sit in my car for 10 minutes. I think about just driving the four minutes back to my apartment but I'm stubborn and want to get what I came out for. I feel like I'm letting myself down if I go home, letting my emotions and anxieties chase me back home without completing a task. I don't want to let these things rule me, so I don't. I'm fine. So, I let myself finish crying until it doesn't feel like there's a gaping hole in the my stomach. I open my door and splash my face with water from a bottled water I had with me. I turn on some loud rock music and I take some long, deep, calming breaths and then I'm fine again. I go back in, get an odd look from the lady at the counter and I smile and she does a strange little head bow and smiles at me as I get back to buying cards. 

Suicide is hard. Death is hard enough on it's own but suicide makes something hard and makes it even harder to cope with. You're in denial because no, no, no, my friend/loved one is fine and would never do that. Even if they weren't fine, this can't be right because they wouldn't kill themselves. They have friends, they have families, they seem happy and content with life. Or they're struggling but they have family and friends and people that care about them, people that love them, people that would do anything within their power to move the whole fucking Earth to make things better or at least more bearable. There's no way they would do that. You'd know, you'd be able to tell, right? Right? Wrong. 

You wonder why they would've done this. You don't understand. Amanda didn't leave any kind of note explaining anything. From what I've come to understand, most whom commit suicide don't leave any kind of thought out note explaining or saying goodbye. The hardest part with reaching acceptance of their death is accepting that you'll just have to accept that they're gone without understanding why they took their life.

I cried a lot in June after Amanda's death. News of her suicide came just a few hours after I'd gotten home from celebrating my birthday and Father's Day with my family and boyfriend. I was having a party the following weekend that she was going to attend. I struggled a lot the first few weeks. Then I cried less. Then I didn't cry at all. Then the realization I wouldn't need to buy her a birthday card and wouldn't have to worry about getting her a gift for the awesome birthday party that was planned months in advance was the first time I'd cried over her death since the first week in September.

I don't know if she thought death would be easier. I don't know if she couldn't bear the thought of living life anymore after the events that lead up to her taking her life. I don't know if she was thinking her kids would be better off. I don't know if she just panicked. I don't know if thought and planning went into it. I don't know if she was just that depressed. I don't know if any of the things that I've turned over in my head after her death were thoughts she had or not. 

I do know that suicide isn't the answer. I'm not just speaking as someone that has lost someone to suicide, or someone that has lost two people she cared deeply for to suicide but also as someone who has thought about it and fought through depression more than once. 

I stood on a bridge once when I was 17 and thought about climbing the rails and jumping. I stood there, running my hands over the cold metal and looking down into the waters below me and thought I could just climb over, jump and nothing would hurt anymore. I've always loved bodies of water; they're calming to me. I leaned over the railing, listening to waves crashing and water churning and I felt like pushing myself over it and letting myself drown would be the most fitting way for me to go. I remember thinking it like it was the most logical thing in the world because at the time, I was a mess and just didn't want to live anymore. I was about to climb the rail when a cop car pulled up and the officer got out slowly, calling out to me. I remember how slowly he approached me, how soothing he sounded and how angry I instantly became because I knew he was ruining everything for me. It was late at night and he was curious why a young girl was out so late, by herself, hanging out on the bridge. I knew he knew what I was thinking of doing and he stood there with me, asking me if my family knew where I was at this hour. He made a few jokes and told me I needed to get on home. He followed me as I left. He followed me and made sure I actually went back home. I cried myself to sleep that night because I was so angry and sad and hurt. I cried until I couldn't breath anymore, my face buried in a pillow, my fists clenched and punching the mattress. 

I decided then I couldn't commit suicide. Not because I suddenly wanted to live but because I couldn't do that to my family. I couldn't hurt them that way and I resented them for that. So, my depression got worse, I started drinking more and doing drugs a lot more. I smoked weed and took Xanax I got from a coworker as often as I could. I moved out and moved in with a friend who was a drug addict himself. We had neighbors who were big partiers. I did more drugs. I drank way more. I didn't want to kill myself anymore because I spent so much time high so I wouldn't hurt anymore. Until I came down, felt worse and wanted to die all over again. It was the worst cycle in the world.

I contemplated suicide occasionally still but then I'd just get high or take a few drinks from a bottle and I'd feel "better" again and then I wouldn't think about how I wanted to die anymore. Then one day, I met this guy. He was waiting in an office with me to do a job interview and I remember we were sitting there together, not saying much at all, then he suddenly looked at me and asked, "so why are you so sad?" I remember blinking at this guy a half dozen times trying to figure out what his deal was. He shrugged and said, "I'm a mess, I guess I recognize it in others." I just shrugged. Then this guy starts telling me that he applied for this job because he was starting over. He told me he had been really depressed and had tried to kill himself. He told me he had tried to jump off of a bridge but had figured it wrong and ended up landing wrong, breaking both of his legs instead. He was recovered and it would be the first job he'd had in a while because of that. He waited for me to talk. I just stared at him, goosebumps on my skin, not really capable of saying anything even if I had wanted to. This kid jumped from the same bridge I had only months ago contemplated hurling myself over. I've never believed in coincidences but I couldn't figure this out. We both ended up getting hired and we started working together a week later. He only worked there for six weeks but in that six weeks, he talked to me a lot about suicide and depression. It took me about a month to realize I didn't really want to die anymore. Not just because I didn't want to hurt my family but for a ton of other reasons. I don't even remember his name. I wish I could because I wish I could tell him thank you for saving me from myself. It sounds cliche but I was planning on trying again. I was trying to figure out ways I could do something to where it seemed like an accident and not suicide. My family would still be hurt but it wouldn't be as bad as losing someone to suicide. In the weeks I worked with that guy, he spent a lot of time talking at me, even though I often didn't say anything back to him at all. Then one night, I remember getting high with my then boyfriend and then sobbing into his shirt because I didn't want to die. I remember telling him everything and all he did was hold me while I ugly sobbed and came undone. I stopped thinking I'd be better off dead. Unfortunately it took quite a while longer to stop using drugs to get me through the day. It took years before I stopped abusing substances to make myself feel "better" but I got there, eventually. 

That was the first period of my life where I very seriously considered suicide a viable option and unfortunately, it wasn't the last. However, I'm still here and suicide is not something I entertain the idea of anymore. Currently, I'm struggling with issues that I'm not really ready to openly talk about here yet. I'm not ashamed of them and I'm not too scared to discuss them. I'm just not ready to put it all out there. I feel like when I understand it all better, I'll be more willing to discuss it in a more open venue.

Some days I think about the periods in my life where I thought I should just kill myself and I'd like to punch that silly girl. I'd also like to hug her and let her know how much strength she really had despite how pathetic and weak she thought she was. 

It can get better. Some days, it will suck. Some days, it feels like everything is wrong. Like nothing you do is right. Like nothing is moving forward in a better direction. Those days happen and you can't beat yourself up over them. You can't get stuck in those days.

No matter how alone you feel or how much you feel like absolutely no one in the world could possibly care or understand what you're going through, you are not alone. There are people out there who will understand or at least try to understand. There are people out there who will offer you empathy and support because they genuinely want you to feel better. Those people could be friends, family members, professional health care workers, a trusted co-worker, someone in an online support group or a stranger on the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline. Hell, you can email me and I'll talk to you. Just talk to someone. Suffering in silence doesn't help. You deserve better than that. You're worth more than that. 

Getting help doesn't make you weak. You don't have to be ashamed or afraid. You're not wrong. You're not broken. You're not beyond repair. Your mental illness and issues do not define who you are as a person. Whatever you're facing, it can get better.

You are not entitled to your partner's body.

Recently, a discussion occurred between myself, another female and two males. I decided I wanted to blog about it and they were all fine with it as long as I didn't use their real names or give any specific details about where we were and such. I can easily do that.

Trigger warning for rape and assault.

The four of us were hanging out together and Britney* was pretty out of it and obviously either very tired or not feeling well. Thomas* asked her what was wrong and she Britney replied that she had barely gotten any sleep last night. She has a minor addiction to binge watching Netflix, even on nights where she has to be up early the next day. Eric* and I gave her a hard time about not getting enough sleep and made jokes about her binge watching. She exclaimed, "Oh my gosh guys, I wasn't binge watching any shows last night! Damian* (her boyfriend) kept me up late last night because he wanted sex. Twice."

Eric shook his head and told her she should say no once in a while when she knows she needs to get more than a few hours of sleep.

Britney rolled her eyes and said, "well, telling him no doesn't work. I do that a lot but he just does what he wants anyway."

Before I could even get my mouth open, Thomas was already speaking.

"Britney, that's not cool. That's wrong. He needs to listen when you tell him no."

Britney: "No, it's fine. I mean I say no and try to push him away but he keeps trying and will start kissing on me and touching me so I give in and do it anyway."

Thomas: "Nope. That's wrong. He shouldn't do that."

Britney: *rolls her eyes* "Like you've never done something like that before."

Thomas: "No. Never. When my wife says no or indicates that she doesn't want sex, that's it. The end. Stopped and done. Right then and there."

Britney: *rolls eyes* "Well, aren't you the saint. But I'm sure Eric knows what I mean."

Eric: "No, I don't rape women and that's what your boyfriend is doing to you. Every time he doesn't stop when you tell him to, he's doing something wrong. I stop when I'm told to stop. It sucks sometimes and obviously it can get frustrating but no means no. No doesn't mean you get to do it anyway because you're in a relationship with someone."

At this point, I want to hug both of them for being fantastic. Although I realized at her next eye roll that it wasn't setting in with her that what her boyfriend does IS wrong.

Britney: "You guys don't get it. Ashly, I'm sure you've had this happen before?"

Me: "My boyfriend understands no. He never pushes or whines or gets angry when I say no. He understands no means no. And other guys I've seriously dated haven't ever forced themselves on me either. I've had a couple guys that tried to push once I said no but I always managed to fend them off, get myself away from them and then never saw them again. If you say no and then someone forces themselves on you anyway, that's rape."

Britney: "It's not rape. He's my boyfriend."

Me: "It IS rape. He needs to stop when you say no. It doesn't matter why you say no. It doesn't matter why you're declining sex. No is no is no. It's that simple. As soon as he starts kissing and touching you after you've said no and tried to push him away, he's in the wrong. He's not respecting you and doesn't care about what you want."

Thomas: "Exactly. He cares about what he wants over what you want. He sees you as a thing that belongs to him to do with what he wants when he wants with no regard to what you want. That's wrong. That's abuse."

Me: "Being in a relationship with someone does NOT entitle them to your body any and every time they want access. It doesn't entitle you access to their body any and every time you want it. You can say no to someone you're dating and they should be able to stop and respect your wishes. It doesn't matter how bad he wants it, if you say no, it means no."

Eric: "Exactly. He isn't allowed to pressure you into doing something you don't want to do. He shouldn't take it personally. It's not like you don't want him, you just don't want sex sometimes and there's nothing wrong with that. I'm not going to tell you to break up with him but you need to explain this to him. You need to tell him he doesn't have that power over you. And if he can't respect that and learn to stop when you say stop without pressuring you, pushing you, or doing what he wants anyway, you need to get the hell out of that relationship."

Britney sat there quietly, staring at us all. Then she was crying which led to sobbing. She said she didn't understand because she was always taught that if men wanted sex, you gave it to them, even if you didn't feel like it. That people still have this mentality is infuriating to me. 

YOU ARE NEVER ENTITLED TO SEX. NEVER.

You did something nice? Cool. 

You purchased a gift for no reason? Cool. 

You helped them out of a jam? Cool.

You remembered to take out the trash every time it needed to go for a month? Cool.

You planned an elaborate night out? Cool.

YOU'RE STILL NOT ENTITLED TO ANOTHER PERSON'S BODY. 

Spending money, buying things, doing chores, being in a relationship? None of that means you're guaranteed sex whenever you want it. If your partner says no, it means no. 

You don't get to pout, whine, pressure, guilt, manipulate, threaten or force them into sex anyway. That's abuse and that's wrong wrong wrong.

"You can't do that!"

People that tell you all the things you can't do are often the same people who wouldn't dare step outside their own comfort zone of security. Sometimes, it's not about them thinking you really couldn't achieve the thing you want to achieve but the thought of doing something beyond a comfortable realm just throws them off. It doesn't even have to involve them, some people just don't like things that seem like they might be a risk or too challenging. Taking a risk is scary and change is really rough for some people. 

I don't personally want someone to tell me "yes Ashly" all of the time and I certainly don't mind when someone points out what they perceive as a flaw or a problem in something I want to do or in an idea I have. There's a difference between being critical in a helpful sense and being critical in an un-supportive way. Communication is important in so many aspects of life and it bothers me how often people in general don't communicate with each other enough in constructive, positive ways. It's possible to be supportive without just going along with everything because being supportive sometimes means pointing out why something might not work and getting that person to think through everything. 

Maybe they're concerned about your safety. That's always something to take into account. Sometimes people don't always take their safety into consideration. I have an impulsive nature and often I just think about how fun and exciting something will be long before the thought of safety enters my mind. I've gotten better about that, though. I also have a boyfriend, family members & a couple close friends who are always on the ready to point out safety concerns with things that I think I might want to try. Sometimes it's not an adventurous fun thing you're trying to do because there are plenty of things where safety needs to be factored in and thought over. If someone is discouraging you from something with reasonable concerns for your safety, listen.

Maybe they think you're wasting your time. It's your time to "waste" so go ahead if it's something you really want to pursue. Just don't forget that no matter how good of an idea you think you have, it is possible that it could lead to a dead end and turn out to be a waste of time. Though I always looks at things as if I learned something valuable in a pursuit that didn't work out, it wasn't really an entire waste of my time.

Maybe they think your pursuit is stupid. They're entitled to their opinion and for me, it's always worth listening to someone else's input as long as they're being respectful because maybe they'll point out something that I hadn't thought of yet.

Maybe they really don't believe in you. In that case, you should probably look at that person and figure out why you're listening to them in the first place. 

Instead of just listening to the "oh, you can't do that" and the "yeah, I think that's a bad idea for you" or etc, stop and ask them why they feel that way. There has to be a reason and you should hear that reason. Maybe it will offer a fresh point of view and put things into a fresh perspective for you. Ask and listen. 

If there isn't a major safety, moral or legal concern involving whatever your goal is, why are they trying to discourage it? Listen even if there isn't a sensible reason behind their discouragement because that's telling, too. 

Just remember, you're responsible for your actions and you're responsible for the things that occur because of those actions. So if you fuck something up, own it. If you fail, own it and don't let a failure discourage you from trying something else. If you try and decide it's not for you, accept that and move on. If you mess up, learn from it, fix what needs fixing and remember what not to do next time. Take the time to think things out, too. There are pros and cons of everything. Sometimes it's tough to do that but never let yourself get discouraged by other people telling you what you can and can't handle, what you can and can't do.

I just need to get this out.

Sometimes you find yourself in a bad place without realizing immediately how you got there. Which seems like a weird thing for a moderately self-aware person. Shouldn't you realize that you're on a decline? That you're slipping further away from the people and things that make your life a bearable and better place? Maybe it should be easier to see but that's not the way it always is. Sometimes people are really good at hiding it. Sometimes people don't even realize it's happening until they're at the bottom looking up, perplexed at how they didn't notice they were sliding downward before then. 

Three weeks ago, my friend Amanda was involved in a murder/suicide. In light of that, I learned a month prior she had tried to commit suicide. I knew she was struggling and I knew she wasn't in a good place. I didn't know how bad it was. I didn't know the depth of the negative emotions she was feeling. As someone who has been in a bad place more than a couple times, I never hesitate to ask if someone is okay when I notice something is amiss. You can't do more than ask and offer support. You can't push someone to let you help them when they just smile and tell you they'll be fine, they're just stressed from XYZ. That life isn't great but they're okay. They promise they're okay. They'll promise if they really need someone, they'll reach out to you. It's an incredibly frustrating feeling to watch someone you care about be in pain, physically or emotionally, and not be able to help them through it. All you can do is trust that when they say they'll reach out if they truly need it, that they will. And you can hope they mean it and feel a little better as they smile at you and thank you and promise you they won't suffer in silence. You can let a little of the uneasiness go as they put an arm around your shoulder or hug you and you can feel a little more secure that everything is going to be okay.

I'll never know why my friend did what she did and I'll never know why her ex did the things he did. I've refused to speculate about any of the "maybes" and "what ifs" because I wasn't there and couldn't possibly know what happened. The only thing I know for certain is what the ultimate outcome was and that's that two people died senselessly and needlessly leaving behind a lot of confusion, sorrow, anger and pain for their loved ones to deal with. 

I could barely get through that first week without crying every time I thought of her. I couldn't avoid learning some of the specific details of it so I had nightmares of my friend laying in a pool of her own blood with her big eyes staring lifelessly into nothing several times. I cried for the two young kids she left behind. I cried for her family for the raw agony they displayed. I cried until my body hurt because it hurt and because I was confused and angry. 

My boyfriend and I had a joint birthday party the week after she died. We went to her funeral the morning of the party and I was a wreck. She was supposed to attend the party that night and yet there I was, sitting in a church, looking at pictures of her cycle through on a wall. Pictures of her and her kids. Pictures of her looking so happy. Doing things she loved doing. Being the kind-hearted person she was. Being the girl I met at a mutual friend's party years and got along with immediately. The first time I met her we spent the rest of the time there hanging out, laughing and joking like we'd seen each other many times before. I don't often connect with people like that and it didn't matter how much time went by between times of seeing each other, it was always like we'd just seen each other last week. I remember sitting there watching pictures and notes scroll by on the wall and wanting to cry because I was supposed to see her later that night, not see pictures of her and mourn her death. 

The first hour or so of the party that night, I felt like I was just going through motions and not really in it at all. One of my friends came in, came into the kitchen and hugged me so tightly for much longer than he normally does and I almost lost it then. He said, "I know this sucks and I know you're sad but everyone here is happy to see you and happy to be spending time with you and would do anything to stop you from hurting if they could. That's got to make you feel a little better." He was right and then I did cry a little because him saying that brought the warmest feeling I'd felt all week. I decided then not to let my pain and grief run things but there were a few times where I'd look around the apartment full of talking, smiling, laughing people and I wished so hard that she'd walk in and I'd realize it was all just a bad dream. Of course, that's completely unrealistic and I knew that even as I was thinking it but it's hard not to wish things like that when you're dealing with the death of someone you cared about.

I know better than to feel guilt and blame myself in situations like this. I had a good friend commit suicide years ago when I lived in California. I felt a lot of guilt over that at first but I realized placing blame on myself for someone else's actions was just bad for me. It didn't bring them back and it only added to all the negative feelings I already felt. I've learned that you can't blame the things you didn't do or blame yourself in any way in situations like this. A friend of a mutual friend went on a tirade about how we were all the blame for her death because none of us did enough. He didn't share my feelings on blame and that made me sad for him. It's easy to look at something after the fact and find ways where you could have done more but who's to say that one more time would have been the time that made the difference? You have no way of knowing one way or another. You're only hurting yourself even more during a time where you're already hurting enough without rubbing salt in your own wounds.

I wish she would have said more. I wish I had known she had tried to kill herself a month prior to the murder/suicide happening. I understand why her family kept that private and understand why she wouldn't have told anyone about it. I wish she wouldn't have stayed in an abusive relationship for so long before finally deciding to leave. I wish she would have asked me or anyone else for help. I wish she could have found the peace she was always searching for. I wish a lot of things had been different because then maybe my friend and her ex would both still be alive but I don't blame myself in any way.

You can offer to help someone all you want but that doesn't mean they'll ever take it. You can care and worry until it hurts, until it wears on you physically and mentally, you can do everything in your power but you can't make a person let you in or accept that they can't do it on their own. Sometimes, they will. Sometimes, you'll offer and they'll let down their defenses. They'll open up and let you see that raw vulnerability and you'll be there as they travel back up. It'll be hard and it'll hurt but they'll get there.

Sometimes, they won't ever do anything they say they will because even when it's being offered, sometimes it's just too hard to accept the help people are offering. It's such a silly notion because on paper it seems so easy. You're struggling and slipping further into a darkness that's stealing away the light from your life. People notice and offer you the help you need because you're losing the fight on your own and having another person or two or four to help you through it would make things easier. So you ask for help and those people do what they can to offer their support and do whatever they need for you. It's different than people who suffer on in silence without no one noticing and not being able to say anything on your own. You've got people noticing and you've admitted things suck a little and you're not dealing with it well. On paper, it's easy. On paper, it's so black and white and simple that it makes no sense for this to fail.

Mental illness isn't just black and white and simple. It's not neat and easy. It's one thing to know people are there for you but to be able to reach out and admit that you're really not okay and don't think you can make it back up on your own? It's hard. So hard. There are so many reasons why someone might not reach out when help is being offered to them. It's easy for people to say, "here, just tell me what's wrong and we'll fix it!" when they're not the person sitting there trying to figure out what's wrong and feeling like there's something deeply wrong with them for feeling the way they do. It's hard to ask for help when you feel so broken and wrong that you feel like nothing anyone could possibly say or do would ever make you feel any better. It's hard to see that things could get better when they're bad. Especially if it's been bad for so long. Sometimes you think you should be able to fix your own problems and assume that if you can't even figure out how to fix yourself, no one else will either. Sometimes you don't want to admit to anyone else how bad you really feel. It's tough to open yourself up that way and to be that vulnerable to other people. What if they react poorly? Maybe they'll judge or laugh? Maybe they'll brush it off because maybe it's really not as bad as it seems? What if they treat me differently? What if they think I'm lying? Maybe they'll be indifferent? What if they don't care as much as I thought they would? What if they can't help me? Maybe they'll think I'm just crazy?

So many things keep people from reaching out. It's hard to see that there's any light left when you're so far down. No matter how many people tell you they're there for you, it's not always easy to believe them and not always easy to let go and ask for help. You know that even if you can't open yourself up to friends and family members, there are hotlines and professionals you can reach out to for help.Sometimes even reaching out to a stranger is terrifying. Admitting there's something wrong and admitting you might need help to yourself is one of the hardest things to do. Reaching out to get that help no matter who you're thinking about reaching out to is tough and scary as hell. A lot of people don't realize how much strength and courage it takes for a lot of people to speak up, to say something is wrong, to admit to themselves and others that they need help.

There's still such a stigma deeply rooted here and that alone makes it even harder for so many to seek out help. If I could, I'd help everyone see that it's never too late for them. It sounds so cliche but it's true. As long as you're living and breathing, it's not too late to say something. It's not too late to get help and get back to a better place. It might take a while and it will be hard and it will hurt and it will suck for a while more but it can get better. It will get better.

 I miss her and it still hurts. I wish she would've felt like she had another option. That things could have gotten better. That it wasn't too late. It doesn't always work that way, unfortunately. Sometimes, mental illness wins out and it's crushing. I know she'll never see this but I'm not really writing it for her. I talked to the boyfriend a little about how I was feeling but I didn't talk much. Talking about the way I'm feeling isn't easy for me. Writing my feelings has always been a hundred times easier than speaking them, even if it's someone I trust and love, it's hard to verbalize my emotions and the way I'm feeling. I've written some in a pen and paper journal but I wanted to blog about mental illness again and this all just kind of spilled out in the process. I thought about deleting a lot of this but I figure, if it spilled out, I needed to get it out, so I'll leave it as is. I'll always miss her and it'll probably always hurt a little bit in that aching kind of way that hits you when you think of someone you've lost but that's just a part of living life.

Death and the ugly side of curiosity.

On June 15th, long after I got home from celebrating my birthday and Father's Day with my family, I was laying in bed thinking about what time I needed to be up in the morning. My boyfriend walked in with his phone clutched in his hands and it was one of those moments you just knew something wasn't right. I asked what was wrong and he just handed me his phone and laid down next to me wrapping an arm around me. I read the words on the screen but I couldn't make sense of them. So I read them again. And then a third time. Then I read the names three more times because I was in shock. My friend and her ex had been found dead in what had been the home they shared together up until a few weeks ago when she had begun moving out.

I sat there staring at the words on the screen trying to make sense of it. It was Sunday night. She had been fine Friday. We were having a party on the 21st that she was coming to and was excited about. Instead, my Saturday started by going to her memorial service. That wasn't the way I was supposed to see her that day but that's how it worked out.

Her death made the local news. I went into work the morning after I found out and told my boss what happened so he would understand the mood I was in. He offered to let me go back home and have the morning off. I declined. I needed the distraction and needed to keep focused on something else. Anything else. My co-workers there that day found out from my boss and were supportive and respectful.

As the days passed and a few more details emerged, some of my co-workers and acquaintances decided to start speculating about what may have happened. The death was a murder-suicide so there are so many things left unanswered and unknown. I know people like to talk and speculate about things like this so I avoided news stories and tons of things posted on Facebook and Twitter. I asked my co-workers not to talk about it in front of me.

I learned a new lesson about death. One of the worst things about a friend's death getting media coverage is so many people want to talk to you about it. They'll give you space at first but then they'll get curious and they'll want to talk to you. Because you knew them and maybe you know something that's not mentioned. They'll offer their opinion on what they think happened, an opinion that's based on nothing. Or worse they'll try to pry details out of you like you're just a vault of secrets. Most don't even care that you're hurting, that you're grieving. Their own curiosity is more important than how you're feeling. Some will even get annoyed when you refuse to discuss it. How dare you put your pain ahead of their curiosity! The story was on the news and in the paper so how could I not want to discuss every tantalizing detail?

To them, it's a news story and they're emotionally detached from it. It's something to solve and try to figure out. It's interesting despite the circumstances being unpleasant. So they ask questions and offer scenarios and opinions and want to discuss the whole ordeal with you because you have a better grasp of things and more knowledge of what's going on. It's not because they care, it's just human nature to be curious. Discussing the details and listening to speculation is really the last thing I want to do. To me, I'm sad. I'm angry. I'm confused. I feel lost. I'm aching to understand, to make some form of sense of why this happened not because I'm curious but because if I could just understand, I could cope better. I'll never know more than I know now. I'll never know how things played out and I'll never know why this happened. It's crushing in a way that sudden deaths usually are. I don't find the mystery of all the unknowns interesting; I find them heartbreaking and feel them like heavy rocks weighing me down.

I've had countless people attempt to pry for more details after I've said I don't want to discuss what was on the news. I've had many more offer opinions that I didn't ask for despite me saying I didn't want to discuss it. I've had people try to tell me how I'm supposed to feel and think about my friend because they saw the story.

I understand curiosity, I really do. I'm a very curious person myself. However, I also understand being a decent, respectful human being and understand putting a person's feelings ahead of my own. I've been on the other side of a situation similar to this. Prying and offering speculation to a person directly affected never even crossed my mind. Support was all that I offered because I wanted to help, not do something to make things worse or make them feel worse than they already did. Explaining that concept to people has been exhausting. And it's mostly co-workers, acquaintances and friends of friends. It baffles me that someone would be annoyed or angered by a grieving person not wanting to discuss or speculate about the death of someone they cared about. It's confusing and enraging that a few have even acted like I owe it to them to discuss it.

Unexpected death is hard enough to deal with without having to deal with people you know and others you hardly know pushing you for details and/or offering their opinions on the situation because they saw this here and read that there and that lead them to this conclusion because. I appreciate everyone that's offered their support and respected my wishes to not discuss things. I appreciate that so much more now than I did a week ago because so many people just don't understand or don't care enough not to pry and push.

It's not hard to be decent and respectful. It's not hard to think of how someone else is feeling in a situation where they've lost someone they cared for unexpectedly. Especially when they're telling you how they're feeling and telling you that you're overstepping. It's not difficult to be kind and put their pain ahead of your own desire to feed your curiosity, your desire to know. At least it shouldn't be.

Let's talk about harassment.

Something that drives me up the wall is seeing and hearing people blame a person that is a victim or harassment for being harassed. The most common thing I see is blame being placed on the harassed for what they're wearing. Or people saying that clothing is obviously the biggest draw for a harasser. Let's do a little stroll down memory lane with me. Buckle up, this is going to be a long one.

(I go in to specific details on three instances of public harassment that might be triggering to some.)

One lovely Saturday I was at an outdoor mall. You know the type, not outlet stores but a bunch of stores, specialty shops and restaurants grouped together in the same style that outdoor outlet malls tend to use. I was by myself, as I usually tend to be. I was walking along wearing black flip flops, flare jeans and a black Dallas Stars tshirt. I walked passed two guys in their mid-twenties and one of them called out to me. I ignored his cat call and kept walking toward the store I was heading toward. Ignoring it didn't do the trick because he yelled at me again and threw something at me. I stopped, turned and said as politely as I could that I wasn't interested and asked that he leave me alone, please. He didn't like that much, called me a bitch and told me to "bring my white ass back [over there] and talk to [him] right fucking now." I started walking again at that and him and his friend began following me, continuing to yell things at me. I quickly ducked into a Barnes & Noble and ran right into a security guard that was on his way back out of the store to presume his patrol outdoors. I stopped him and explained the situation and pointed to the two guys who were now standing around just outside the doors of the bookstore. He asked if they had laid hands on me and I said they hadn't because I had ducked into the store as quickly as I could once they started following me. He said he would go out and talk to them and tell them to move it along. I went deeper into the store to the magazine shelves so I could still see out on the sidewalk through the windows. I saw him talking to them and watched them look through the windows a few more times before they walked off. The security guard came back in and alerted the store manager to the two guys and then went back on his way. I was afraid to leave the store immediately. I wasn't parked close to the store and didn't want to run into them again. My boyfriend was at work in a city 50 miles from where I was at the time. I was in the city I lived in at the time but I had no friends who lived there. The boyfriend had friends that lived there as it was the city he grew up in. I thought of calling one of them to come up there but felt silly doing that because at that point, I just wanted to get to my car and go home. I decided to hang out in the store for a little while since it's a store I love anyway. After about half an hour, I had found two books I wanted to buy but decided to go over by the magazine shelves and see if those two guys were anywhere in sight. I told myself I was being ridiculous and paranoid. Except I wasn't because they were back to hanging out in front of the store. I decided to call the police. They took off quickly once the police SUV pulled up outside the store. I was asked if I had initiated any of the dialog with them and was questioned about if I had led them on or given them any cause to think I had been interested in them. I hadn't and resented them trying to place fault with me for two guys acting like dicks. I was told they couldn't do anything because the guys hadn't harmed me in any way and asked why I felt it necessary to call the police when it hadn't escalated to them "really doing anything." I was livid because I shouldn't have to wait for violence to occur to take action. The fact that they followed me into a store and came back after a security guard had sent them on their way was threatening enough.  The security guard that had originally dealt with them offered to walk me back to my car. I drove home and once I shut the front door, I started freaking out causing an anxiety attack. I'm not sure why it happened then instead of in the store but then again I often don't understand why they strike when they do. I digress.

Based on societal views, I obviously did something to provoke them. I ignored them, politely asked them to leave me alone when ignoring them only caused persistence, was at an outdoor shopping mall in the middle of the day on a weekend afternoon completely sober and was dressed in loose fitting clothes that covered everything but my forearms, hands and everything from the neck up. I guess it was my fault for having the audacity to not humor a random guy on the street that wanted my attention.

Another instance: I was in a club with my boyfriend and a guy friend. The club wasn't busy and was very laid back in atmosphere. I needed to use the restroom. The restroom was on the other side of the club from where we were sitting at a table and it was upstairs. I walked over to the elevator since that was the only way up to the second floor for the restroom. While waiting on the elevator, a man at a table close by began trying to get my attention. I at first assumed he thought I was a waitress and said, "I'm sorry I don't work here." He replied, "bitch I didn't ask you if you worked here, I said get over here." I replied that I wasn't interested and just needed to use the restroom. He replied that he didn't care and to get over there before he got up and got me himself. He didn't wait for me to respond and got up as the elevator was opening up. Instead of going upstairs, I turned around quickly and went back to my table. I explained what had happened and my boyfriend got up and accompanied me to the restroom. As soon as I got back over there, the same man got up and started to say something to me again, until my boyfriend who is 6'8" and 300 lbs stepped up beside me. The guy looked at him, looked at me and immediately sat back down and averted his attention elsewhere. A little while later, I went to the back patio with my boyfriend since he smoked at the time and I wanted fresh air. The guy who had harassed and threatened me earlier but hadn't been thrown out because "he didn't really do anything" followed us out there. I was afraid he had gotten a few drinks in him and wanted a confrontation. Instead, he came bearing an apology, stating, to my boyfriend and not to me, "I didn't meant to scare her, sorry, I was just trying to talk to her." "That's not how you talk to a woman, ever. And apologize to her, not to me." To which the guy mumbled some garbage and went back inside. We left shortly after that.

 That night, I had on black 2" heels, black pants and a blouse that showed no cleavage, wasn't the least bit see through and the sleeves ended at my elbows. I made no eye contact with anyone but the elevator when I first walked up by myself. I guess being a woman in a club and not originally assuming I'd need my boyfriend to escort me to the fucking restroom was where I fucked up this time. Silly me, assuming I could go to the restroom in peace without some asshole harassing me.

Another instance: I was walking down a street on Sunday afternoon. I don't remember where I was going but I remember it was a beautiful day and I was walking downtown and enjoying the weather and sunshine after so many days of rain. I remember I was wearing jeans, flip flops and a t-shirt, as I quite often do. I remember a car with 4 guys not much older than me pulling up and driving slowly along side me so the passenger could attempt to flirt with me from his car. I moved further away from the street and again, expressed my disinterest and told the guys to leave me alone. He tried a few more lines but I wasn't interested and said as much. This  resulted in the guy harassing me and the one in the backseat passenger side to both throw their sodas at me and call me a skank, slut, bitch, tease and a few other names I don't recall before the driver sped away.

I guess it was my fault for daring to go OUT IN PUBLIC on a nice afternoon by myself and expect no one to bother me. I guess I need to make a lot more friends so I can have someone with me every time I go somewhere. Not that having a person with you always stops someone. Maybe I should hire a bodyguard because I'm obviously asking for harassment by gallivanting around outside by myself, right?

I don't have to give attention to someone just because they want me to give it to them. I'm allowed to decide I don't want to be bothered by a person without having to face verbal or/and physical harassment from them. I should be able to go places, by myself, in the middle of the day, without having to worry about if the person who just said hello is just being polite or if they're going to attempt to take it further and if they're going to react poorly or not. I shouldn't be blamed when a person does react poorly to rejection or being asked to leave me alone.

I'm not saying no person ever decided to single someone out of a group or a crowd because of the way  they were dressed, I'm sure that happens. I'm also sure that if that's a person's motivator, it has everything to do with them and nothing to do with the person they're about to harass. The dialog that surrounds this topic is disturbing because people spend more time pointing fingers at the harassed, trying to tell them what they did wrong and how they have partial blame because of what they're wearing rather than focusing on the person doing the harassing. I'm not at fault for their actions. They make the decision and put forth the effort to act the way they do. Them. Not me. Accountability is a real thing and unfortunately, often times, people would rather tell a person who has been harassed or assaulted what they should do differently to avoid it next time. It's the same kind of bullshit you find in rape culture. "Don't do this, don't wear that, don't say this and it probably won't happen."

"Don't wear that because someone might harass you or worse" is bullshit and incredibly inaccurate because it doesn't often have to do with what a person is wearing. That needs to stop being such a heavy focus point and the focus needs to shift to the fact that people aren't objects and people aren't entitled to demand attention from someone else and react with verbal or physical abuse when they're denied and people that do these things should have repercussions to face when they do react this way.

You wouldn't tell someone who was a victim in an armed robbery that they had it coming because they work in a store with a cash register. 

You wouldn't tell an athlete that had broken their leg that they maybe kind of sort of had it coming to them because they play a contact sport so they should have been more careful.

You wouldn't tell a person who had their home broken into that they deserved it because, duh, homes sometimes get broken in to and look at you over there living in one!

You wouldn't tell someone who got hit in a car accident by another driver that it was their fault because they should have been looking out for what every other driver was doing on the road.

So why do people want to place blame on a person who was harassed instead of the person they should be placing the blame and focus on? By doing this, you're only making it harder to change this. The more you blame people who aren't at fault, the less people will speak out about it because they don't want to be told they're at fault because it's hard to fight a battle when you're starting on the losing end from the get go. Or worse, they listen and believe they really shouldn't have worn those tight jeans to the mall and believe that the guy who copped a feel on the escalator was valid in that because he only did so because he was provoked by them, placing blame on themselves instead of where it really belongs. 

The belief that the way a person dresses is what causes them to be a victim or harassment or an attack is problematic, it's stupid, it's inaccurate and it's not helping anyone. 

Another problem with this assumption is that it gets people thinking if they don't dress a certain way, they don't have to worry about people bothering them. I am harassed far more often when I'm mostly covered and not wearing anything tight or revealing and I'm far from the only person who could truthfully back that statement up. The belief that you'll be safe from harassment as long as you don't wear this and don't do XYZ is harmful and dangerous. Based on societal standards and the usual victim blaming bullshit so many people spout, the amount of times I've been harassed should be significantly smaller.The belief that a person is even somewhat at fault for harassment because of their clothing is enraging. 

A short dress, a tight pair of pants, a low cut blouse, a bikini; none of these things are an open invitation to say lewd things, badger someone for their attention, verbally assault, physically assault or harass them in any way. A short dress is just that, a short dress. It's an article of clothing and doesn't entitle anyone, male or female, to harass another person. Ever.

Dear Drivers...

Dear drivers,

1.) Please learn how to merge properly. This is not a difficult task, for the merging or the drivers dealing with cars needing to merge on or off. 

2.) Turn signals come standard on your car and don't cost anything to operate so please use them.

3.) Do not tailgate people. You never know when they'll have to slow down suddenly and you may then find yourself eating the back of their car with the front of yours or swerving to avoid an accident. Which may work or may cause another incident. 

4.) The left lane is for passing. Please do not chill over there cruising along right at or worse yet, under the speed limit.

5.) Going under the speed limit when there's no reason to (construction, weather, other hazards or traffic) is annoying. It's also unsafe. And again very, very annoying.

6.) Stop speeding through parking lots. There are people walking everywhere, cars backing out of spaces and plenty of reasons aside from not being a douche to not speed through a parking lot.

7.) Stop merging onto the highway going 20+ mph under the speed limit, especially if the entry ramp gives you enough room to get up to speed. 

8.) Throwing your hazard lights on and parking any place you feel like is obnoxious. Just because you can stop there, doesn't mean you can park directly in front of the grocery store so you can go rent a RedBox movie to avoid parking and walking up there like a normal, decent human being. 

9.) Stop freaking out because there is some form of precipitation on the roads. If there's ice, snow or rain, you don't have to drive 5 mph, but speeding is dumb also. Use your brain.

10.) Turn your headlights on at night. Those are pretty important. Driving with your high beams on when there are other cars around is rude. Stop that. Headlights, yes. High beams, not unless it's necessary and you don't have cars in front of you.

11.) Please make sure you check your blind spot before merging into a new lane. And don't get enraged because someone honked at you for nearly taking off the front end of their car. You're the douche here unless they sped up intentionally to keep you from being able to change lanes.

12.) Speeding up to pass me then getting in front of me and slowing down because you don't want to get caught and get a ticket. What are you even doing?

13.) Please clean heavy snow or ice off of your car. It's going to fall off eventually, yes. Likely while you're driving. I do not appreciate that chunk of ice flying off your car and into my windshield and neither does anyone else. 

14.) Taking up two spaces in a parking lot is obnoxious. You don't want to run the risk of door dings, scratches or another person breathing around your car? Park it out in BFE away from all the cars. 

15.) Make sure your cargo is tied down properly and securely. No one wants that ladder/bag of clothes/box of junk/couch coming loose, flying off your car or truck bed and fucking up their car or causing an accident. You don't want that either so secure your items down properly.

16.) PUT YOUR FUCKING PHONE DOWN WHILE YOU'RE DRIVING. I don't care if it's a text you're reading/replying to, mundane crap on Facebook, a tweet you think you just have to send or a news alert that you think you can't go a few minutes without seeing; STOP IT. I avoid so many accidents because I'm paying attention to all of the people who aren't paying a damn bit of attention because they have their attention buried in their phones while they're driving. You shouldn't be operating a vehicle that can cause serious damage, injury or kill people if you're not going to focus on operating it. I don't care how good you think you are at multitasking between driving and keeping your nose in your phone, you're not. 

17.) Don't get drunk and drive. Have a designated driver. Call a cab. Call Uber. There are a ton of options that will prevent you from driving home smashed and not only endangering yourself but endangering the lives of innocent people around you.

I'm sure I forgot some things but these are the things that drive me most crazy. Being a safe and courteous driver isn't that difficult. Although being a self-absorbed asshole is pretty easy and way too common anymore. If I forgot something on the list and you want me to add it, feel free to say so. 

Happy Thursday!

The Whose Life Sucks More Olympics

I hope I'm never the type of person who has to "win" the "Whose-life's-harder/sucks-worse-right-now Olympics." Everyone knows or has known someone like that before. No matter the issue you have, they'll be ready as soon as they have the chance to tell you why you're lucky because their problem is worse. It doesn't matter what it is, they'll use something current or draw from a passed experience to attempt to one-up your issue. It's rarely done out of actually trying to help the person they're one-upping.

I understand needing to vent at times. I understand needing to complain about a pesky problem or a tough situation you're going through. Doing that usually opens the doors for the person lending that ear to share a similar story or at least one to relate to you. I'm fine with that because finding out someone you know has gone through a similar problem as you can, at times, be helpful. It can make you feel a bit better just knowing they got through it. You can discuss situational similarities and it may open your eyes to paths and solutions you hadn't yet thought of. A different perspective rarely hurts things when you're trying to work through something.

Just don't be that person who constantly tries to make all of their issues worse than anyone else's. That person whom has to make everything about them. All you're doing is saying, "that sucks for you but here's my problem that I deem bigger and more important than yours. Aren't you glad you don't have my problems? How lucky for you and your less significant problems!"

Doing  that doesn't make the other person feel better and it makes you look like a self-centered jackass who doesn't care about what other people are going through. You don't need to prove your issues are bigger and more difficult or that things you overcame were tougher so boohoo.

We all go through struggles and hard times. It's a part of life and everyone processes and handles situations differently. You can't say that your struggle is harder than the struggle of a loved one because you don't know. And even if it is/was, they're not coming to you for you to tell them how lucky they are. So next time, try shutting it down, listening and offering up something useful instead of disregarding what they're saying so you can tell them how you have it worse. Life is hard enough on it's own but things are easier to get through with support and encouragement from the people around you. If you're unsupportive and more interested in everything being about you all of the time, eventually (some sooner, others later) the people you care about are going to get tired of it. It's exhausting and frustrating dealing with someone that acts that way, especially when it's someone you care for or even someone you love. You're not going  to like what you start getting back so step out if your little "it's all about me" bubble and try on a little empathy on occasion. I promise, it doesn't hurt to occasionally just put your own issues aside and show the same kindness and support that you'd like from those around you.

Cold weather rantings

Something I'll never understand is why people tend to feel superior to others about the weather. You see/hear it all the time. If you live down South and complain about the cold, you'll no doubt have a Northerner make some comment about "cold? that's not cold! That's a light jacket day around here hahaha." And when a Northerner sees a 90 degree day in the Summer time, you'll see someone down South mock the notion that a 90 degree day is a miserable day.

I live in Dallas. We don't see a huge amount of snow, ice and below freezing temperatures. We've been hit with a winter storm where it's been just ice covering everything and several days of below freezing temps. Today is supposed to hit above freezing temps for the first time in several days.







I posted these pictures after going out for an Ice Adventure Walk because I was tired of being holed up in my apartment. And of course, I had people who are used to dealing with these types of conditions call me names and poke fun at me. The mocking and name calling doesn't upset me or make me angry, honestly. I find the whole concept to just be incredibly stupid and a little bit perplexing. I don't see weather like this on a regular basis so obviously it's a big deal to me and obviously people aren't going to be as adept at dealing with it as people who are used to this type of weather every time December rolls around.

I just don't get the notion of making fun of people because of the weather and how they react to it. I don't mock people who think 90 is hot in July when I'd kill to see a July day not hit triple digits. I know it's not what they're acclimated to dealing with and sometimes feel bad for them if their area gets particularly hotter than what they're used to. One of my oldest and closest friends moved here from Philadelphia and lived here a few years before moving back to PA. He thought Summer here was absolutely miserable in comparison to his Summer weather back home. To some people, 90 is a hot day for the area they're in. Just like to some people 21 and a couple inches of ice on the ground in December is not the normal for them.

People as a general mass tend to confuse me in this regard. There seems to be a general need to feel superior to others and they use whatever means is convenient to do so. What do you get out of feeling superior about the weather? And I mean this in the sense of people who continually poke fun of others. Not the occasional jab in good nature or what have you. I get that to some degree. Sometimes I roll my eyes or laugh to myself when I hear someone complain about 85 being "too hot" to them because I can't imagine ever feeling that way in the same situation because of what I'm used to dealing with. I imagine the same goes for people used to snow, ice and very cold temps. They probably feel that same type of bewildered amusement toward us for not being able to handle a few inches of ice being on the roads for days. I just don't get the continual need of so many to make fun and talk down to people over something so trivial. Then again, I don't understand anyone who needs to talk down to and make fun of others for any reason. If that makes you feel better about yourself or attempting to make other people feel bad makes you feel good, that's more than a little sad.

Moving on to something slightly different but a little on the same subject. I think the thing that bothers me the most about the weather getting colder here is the amount of people I don't even know that I have to deal with asking me why I'm dressed a certain way or why I'm wearing a jacket or if I know it's not that cold outside or blah blah stupid question goes here blah blah blah.

I have an autoimmune disorder than effects my health in a lot of ways. One way it messes with me is I get cold rather easily. So when it's 50 outside and I have on a hoodie and a knit cap, having someone ask me if I "really need to be wearing all of that" because it's "not that cold outside" tends to irritate me. It also tends to happen quite often which confuses me because I'd never question a random person about why they're wearing what they're wearing. Obviously,  I wouldn't be wearing a hoodie if I didn't need to. If a lighter sweater or jacket would do, then that's what I'd have on but I digress. Every one's body is different and you don't know what a person has going on yet a ridiculous amount of people feel like they need to comment on things like this. I usually just respond to such comments with a simple "I get cold easily" and leave it at that. Unless the person keeps talking about how I don't need to be wearing something heavy because it's not cold enough for it, then I lose my temper and tell them what makes my body have trouble keeping warm. Which I hate doing because it's no one's business and I don't want people to feel bad for me because of it but if you're going to make fun of me for something I can't control, I feel less bad about making you feel like an ass. Mostly because you're an ass and it's hard to feel bad for someone who's acting like a jerk.

Anyway, one last thing before I wrap this up. It doesn't pertain to this post but it's a quick little side note. Of course if you guessed I'm about to talk about Toys for Tots, you're correct and obviously know me well. ;)

My Toys for Tots holiday fundraiser is up and running for the 5th consecutive year with only 6 days left for making a donation. See this post for details on how you can help donate to Toys for Tots with a few easy clicks and to check out the posts and pictures from years passed. It's a great cause and a donation of as little as $5 will help make this Christmas a little better for a family who could really use the help. Thanks!

Happy Sunday!