maggalish - Tumblr blog

[maggalish]

I gotta delete this blog. It’s just turned into my stupid whiney confessional. I hate it but sometimes I just have to get it out. This is safer than Facebook because there aren’t enough people paying attention. 

[maggalish]

Fuck, I am freaking out so hard and there’s no one to talk to. Everyone has too much of their own shit going on. 

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Feelings are bad right now but on the plus side, I really, really like where I live. I have to figure out how to clean the ceiling fans though.

[maggalish]

Well now we know Taco Bell’s stance on gay demon sex.

I guess good on you for thinking positively in this situation?

[maggalish]

[maggalish]

My mom died one year ago today.

In fact, I think it is right around now-ish that my dad started calling me trying to find out why it was taking me so long to get the the hospital. I couldn't get onto the expressway because there was some kind of police chase and the whole Eisenhower was closed. If it had occurred to me sooner that I could take Roosevelt Road all the way out, I might not have missed her. If I hadn't stopped to get something to eat, I might not have missed her. If I hadn't sat in the parking lot finishing my cigarette, I might not have missed her. I thought it was like the other times. She had a myriad of chronic illnesses that landed her in the hospital often and for great lengths of time, but none of them were acutely life threatening so her death still seemed very sudden. I wonder if it's easier or harder to deal with when you know it's coming. I wonder if she knew I wasn't there, if she wondered why I wasn't there. I hope that isn't the case. I hope she was unconscious or was in the place her brain would take her to when she had seizures. If she did know I wasn't there I hope that that big hallucinatory dopamine release that they say happens at death washed that thought out of her head. 

I have never felt so alone in my life. Like, alone in the world. I'm an only child with a spread out family and all of my cousins are literally a generation older than me, so I'm used to being by myself. But shit man, I don't even know how to describe it. It's like your world is shattered and you're inside this bubble where time has sort of stopped for you, but everyone else keeps moving, even the people close to you, and they can't see you inside of this bubble, so they don't talk to you and you don't know how to get out and I guess eventually the bubble just pops on its own. I don't know man, I have no idea how it changed but that was like the first 4 or 5 months was just a bubble of aloneness where no one could see or hear me. And the fear. I don't think I've come to terms with the fear yet because I've just recently acknowledged that it exists but when my mom was alive I felt safer. I felt like there was someone there to catch me if I fucked up and fell. That is mostly untrue. My parents were having serious financial problems that were compounded by health issues and physical disability. Realistically, if the shit really hit the fan, the most my mom could offer me was a couch to crash on. But she always made it seem like she had a handle on things and actually, up until she became disabled she did. So my safety net, imagined though it may have been, is gone, and I feel like I've lived my whole adult life on this tightrope and I'm fucking terrified. There never has been a time in my life that I wished so much that I had a sibling. Someone that I could call and would be there at a moment's notice, that knew what I was going through so that we could support each other. I know that's not how siblings actually work, but in my mind I feel like that would have made this year a whole lot easier.

My mom and I had a complicated relationship. In a lot of ways we were very close, but we also pissed each other off constantly. Maybe that's not so unique. But she loved me so much. Maybe too much, which could have been the cause of some of our problems. I think she wanted me to be everything to her and I couldn't handle that. But the fact remains that there has never been a time in my life when I didn't feel supported by my mom. She would let me know loud and clear when she thought I was making a mistake, but she never tried to stop me. Personal issues aside, she was such a good person and did not deserve the hand of cards she was dealt. She taught me compassion, the importance of generosity and doing things for others, open-mindedness, strong feminist values (I don't even think she identified as a feminist, but she definitely didn't let people shit all over her for being a woman and taught me not to let being a girl hold me back). Every good thing about me and honestly, a lot of the bad things about me are because of my mom and she's gone and I'm still really fucking sad about it.

[maggalish]

LIBERAL RAAAAGE!!!

[maggalish]

My dad wanted to watch that too. I gave him a firm no and told him that ventriloquism us the lowest form of comedy.

Southernish is making my step dad watch Grace Jones on the Pee Wee Herman Christmas Special with the most devilish look imaginable on her face.

[maggalish]

I am so fucking tired of being the one that always has to put in the effort.

[maggalish]

I had an experience on a Facebook thread about celebrity feminists and I haven't been able to stop thinking about it all day, so I'm going to blog about it

Potential tw for abuse.

Here is the original post, from a cis man that I know:

"could we stop pretending that beyonce, taylor swift and other multi-millionaire waifs of the culture industry are feminists and that every public action they do has any purpose other than indulging their base ambition to make more millions? please?"

"Wow, this discussion about feminism is a real sausage fest (;. For my part, I do feel like there are mixed messages being sent out by these artists in regards to the disparity between their lyrics and their actions, but I think the imagery is more powerful and more memorable than this week's hit song and if seeing the word "feminist" in lights behind Beyonce leads girls to try and find out what feminism is or helps them to not be afraid to become feminists, then the motivation behind the action is not as important. And, no offense, but it's not really about what it means to you, it's about what it means to the little girls that look up to these artists. And yeah, there's no risk involved but there's not much to be gained either. It's not like Beyonce or Taylor Swift can get much more popular than they already are. I also hesitate to question anyone who self-identifies as anything. No one besides that person can ever really know if it's true. So yeah, these artists may have a lot to learn about feminism, but I don't think it's that much of a stretch to believe that they mean well and are trying to empower their fans."

His immediate, knee-jerk reaction, literal moments after I posted was: "As someone who's witnessed his mother abused by men for his entire life I think I'm allowed some opinions about feminism and that my being male does not invalidate any efforts I make in the least. But I understand what you mean." (This comment got a big show of support from some of the other guys on the thread).

Then I did something that I don't know if I should have done or not. I apologized for offending him and said that I didn't mean to imply that he wasn't allowed to have an opinion and checked out. He apologized for being emotional, but the topic is an emotional one for him. This effectively ended the discussion.

The reason that I apologized (and I'm still not sure I should have, because in my opinion, my point and his point are only related in the broadest possible way) is because he went through some trauma and I didn't want to be insensitive or further trigger him. I have, and will, and plan to again have many debates/discussions/arguments with men about feminism.

But what I allowed to happen by simply apologizing and not expanding on my point was that I allowed a man to silence me about a women's issue. A man that effectively deigned himself an arbiter of whether or not a woman is the feminist that she says she is. I feel really shitty about that. I feel like I failed my gender. I feel kind of small and bullied, but I don't know if I should. Are those things better or worse than continuing to discuss a topic that rubs salt on the wound of someone who experienced profound trauma? Am I being too sensitive to his experience or too insensitive?

And for the record, I do believe that men's opinions on feminism are less valid than women's. Non invalid, but less so because they do not have the lived experience that informs the feminist movement. I do not believe that a man gets to decide whether or not a woman is being a good feminist. I do believe that anybody that is a member of a group in power should do their best to check their privilege and shut up and listen to the people that they claim to ally with (this obviously takes constant vigilance and effort and it's easy to fuck up, but you gotta fucking try, otherwise how could you dare call yourself an ally/feminist/etc?). And you bet your ass that if I come across any discussion about women's issues that is dominated by or consists exclusively of men, I'm gonna put my two cents in, because how do you not see the irony in that?

But then again maybe I'm wrong about everything. Who's to say?

[maggalish]

Adventures in grieving

The waves are fewer and farther between now. In fact, it's probably been at least six months since I've felt the sharp stabbing pain that I did in the months after my mom's death. Since Thanksgiving though, there's been this creeping darkness in the corner of my mind. Knowledge that the holiday season isn't going to feel good for me for a very long time, no matter how much I compartmentalize and try to normal the fuck out of it. Well, my normal, which has never been normal traditional normal.

Thanksgiving was weird. There were too many people, and they all knew we had been invited because my mom was gone and we had no place else to be. They knew that because these particular family members have had us over for every single holiday since my mom passed, but we had never been invited before that. I spent Thanksgiving night at my dad's, because I always spend Thanksgiving night at my parents' house. I didn't want him to think that that my mom was the only reason I spend so much time there over the holidays, even though, if I'm being perfectly honest, that's kind of true. I spent most of the rest of that weekend throwing a pity party for myself, wishing for a distraction but mostly glad to be alone at the same time. Once I was back to my work routine and everything, I was back to normal. 

Brief periods of depression are, in my completely unresearched, uninformed opinion, still to be expected at this stage. I'm not worried about it, I know that that's one more thing that will fade or evolve into something else over time. That stabbing though. That's worse. It always comes as such a shock. There's a certain point where you stop expecting it to happen, so when it does, it just takes you by surprise.

That's what happened today, over things that I'm sure seemed trivial to anyone but me. It started this morning. I ran out of shower gel. That sounds stupid, but the thing is that every Christmas for as long as I can remember, my mom has gotten me shower gel. Enough to last the whole year. So we're talking like, a decade's worth of shower gel, and I just used the last of it. The well has run dry. One more thing has ended. Also today, a back and forth conversation between my father and I has culminated in me buying my own presents for him to wrap. Let me be clear. I don't give a shit about the presents. The problem, the stabbing realization, is that the only parent I have left is the one who has no idea who I am. And I know that as shitty as that makes me feel, my dad's probably feeling a whole lot worse because I've known that he knows nothing about me for awhile now and I'm pretty sure that he's just realized it within the past two weeks or so. 

So that's where I am. Shocked into the realization that I'm not yet over it (not saying that I should be, just saying you settle into a new normal that you don't always realize is different than your old normal until the stabbing), watching one more piece of my mom wash down the drain, trying to deal with my issues with my father without letting him know I have issues with him because if I were a betting woman I wouldn't bet on too many more years with him either so why get into all that, trying to figure out how to make it through Christmas knowing that there's no way it's not going to be shitty this year, and feeling stupid and selfish for taking up so much space talking about my feelings. But hey, I guess that's what the internet's for, right?

[maggalish]

Close your eyes and repeat after me:

"Do not read the comments section, do not read the comments section, do not read the comments section, do not read the comments section, do not read the comments section..." and soon it will be ten years from now and the internet will have ceased to exist as we know it! Now don't you feel better?

[maggalish]

I was a public defender in a big city for almost 10 years. Police officers target young black males. Period.

I have seen so many black people arrested and harassed for things white people usually don’t even think twice about. Running a red light on a bicycle. Open container of alcohol....

[maggalish]

I was never supposed to be there.

[maggalish]

WHEN AND WHERE AND WHY WAS I NOT THERE?!

Chi Town bebe!! 

[maggalish]

Ugh, why didn't I think of this?

Look at these bitches/bastards on halloween! SO AMAZING!!! Digital insta shoutouts and emoji hands to: taylorcoltin & rachelstot, onesoulrevolution, lanye_weisst, mpistilli, katedrawsthings, iheartgreenmore, erinmarie_ & lisasab, sophiieclare, jtru22 an cholapaola!!!

[maggalish]

In which I commit to the internet the thoughts that go through my head every time I hear certain lines from 0-100/The Catch Up by Drake

They say the shoe can always fit no matter whose foot it's on

I don't think they say that. That's both literally impossible and metaphorically ineffective.

These days I feel like I'm squeezin' in 'em

Alright, good. Finish your thought. What else you got?

Whoever wore 'em before just wasn't thinkin' big enough

I'm 'bout to leave 'em with 'em

Oh, still on the shoes. Ok.

Cuz if I run the game in these, man, the seams are splittin'

OH MY GOD, YOU MUST HAVE FOUND SOMETHING ELSE TO BEAT THE DEAD HORSE WITH SINCE YOU'RE OBVIOUSLY STILL WEARING THE SYMBOLIC SHOES.

No pun intended, but they're smelling defeat in the air

Oh, fuck you, Drake.