Sunday, January 6, 2013

at risk

  Have you been paying attention to this Stuebenville rape case going on?  Well I'm behind the times 'cause I just found out about it today and it's been going on for months.  I'll leave it for you to google on your own and make your own conclusions, of course, but what the hell is going on in our culture in general here?  All the conjecture, taking things out of context and snarly opinions aside, this story is terrifying.
  Beyond the small town mentalities, the antiquated cry wolf theories and the general fucked-up-ness of the situation, what might bother me the most is the term "at risk behavior" that's being bandied about.   I'm sure this isn't the only time the term has been used, it's just that this is the first time I've ever noticed it.  What blows my mind isn't the suggestion that she might have been making the wrong choices (we're all guilty of making them) but the implication that in making those choices she should have expected whatever horrible treatment was given her.  That by putting up suggestive tweets in the past, by having a healthy sex drive, and then getting intoxicated at a party she put herself at risk of being abused sexually. 
  And they made a term for it.  To authenticate the fucked up idea behind it. 
  How do I even live in a time when this is possible? 

this cartoon life

  So here I am, trying to to write three (possibly four if there's outcry) books, right?  All three main characters are based on different aspects of myself (what? Sush- write what you know) and I'm having issues pulling sentence after painful sentence out of my head and today it finally dawned on me why.  With all the upheaval going on recently I have little to no idea who I am.
  For the past few months I've been in stasis-  I'm here in this tiny house too afraid to leave unless I'm in desperate need of food (a little agoraphobic with heavy anthropophobic overtones) or paying a bill.  I might dash out to get the mail some days if I'm feeling particularly brave.  I sleep in, I stay up, I read horrid books that I'm ashamed to even own, I wear a lot of comfy clothes and I make bargains with myself in order to shower daily.  I really like video games.  Sometimes I trick myself into working out but most of the time I'm far too wily for that old trap and see it coming a mile away. 
  There's no way I'd answer the door if someone knocked. 
  These aren't at all new developments and, in fact, I've been struggling most of my life with these issues and it's just recently that I've allowed myself to give in.  After mom died everything seemed to get harder to deal with.  The move, homelessness, my flaky roommate, this whole vegan thing I just started but mostly my continued disuse of my talents- it's killing me that I'm still not happily ensconced in a career that uses my abilities as an artist to their fullest while simultaneously failing to suck my soul dry.
  These issues I have... well I know they'll always be part of who I am and I used to float on top of it all.  But now I'm drowning in it and I feel like I've reached the point where I either go full fledged hermit or slap myself out of it.  Possibly with heavy doses of drug and/or alcohol therapy. 
  I'll keep you posted.  Unless I turn hermit.  Then I'll send you scrawled messages on bark.