Depression: An Expression Through Dance

TRIGGER WARNING-mentions suicide
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I often can't explain why I'm depressed even though I wish I could. Is there a rhyme or reason for this darkness, I don't know. People tell me to just snap out of it and I wish I could! Maybe if I understood why I was so sad, I could do something about it! Maybe if those who say that they love me actually saw the real me instead of my reflection would help. But do I let them see the real me? Would they want to, could they handle it? Could I deal with the real me on a daily basis? Or do I just keep hiding because no one wants to deal with this and I'd lose the few friends I have? Would they even care if I was gone?

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Musings while Medicated: My response to someone about my mom's choice and um, yeah.

Being CF, pro-choice and mentally ill rant:
When you say that it's the women's choice and some douche asks "what if your mom had aborted you?"  "So what if she had? We'd probably be a lot happier. I wouldn't have been exposed to a childhood of narcissistic douchebaggery and domestic violence. I wouldn't have grown up with chronic pain, with frequent stomach aches that were never investigated. I wouldn't have searched for love quickly, stupidly and in all the wrong places. Meeting with that guy online and he used you for 4 months. But you couldn't tell your family. Avoiding it all together? Great!  But can't leave those emotions behind, chronic pain worsens, you can't work and the doctors put you on 20 pills a day. But your parents who didn't abort you are bitching about supporting you while you wait on the government. Too bad they didn't abort me, they wouldn't have had an expensive but defective child so more money and less heartache for them and I wouldn't have had such a miserable fucking life!

Driving out trauma with kindness and a love for music

I had music teachers who made a difference in my life. Some positive and some negative but let's go with the positive here.

By the time I was fully immersed in my music studies, my PTSD was raging. I didn't advance into higher choirs and had a ton of anxiety around this one professor who happened to be my advisor. I was taking beginning conducting from him and struggling with it. I found myself quite nervous every time I got up to conduct the class. I'm getting emotional now just writing this.

One day he called on me to conduct the class. I got up, took my baton and music, started to conduct. As I moved my hands, a dark cloud came over me. Like a dementor from Harry Potter. I got this awful feeling in my stomach. I looked at my professor out of the corner of my eye and I could hear the voice of my narcissistic grandfather who had died several years before. "You'll never make it, you can't do this, you won't go to grad school, what makes you think that you can sing, you can't even conduct, you're just a waste." Hot tears clouded my vision and my hands started to shake. My service dog was attached to my chair by his leash and was straining to get to me. I dropped my hands in the middle of the piece, grabbed my purse and my dog, and fled the room. I don't even know where I went afterwards.

That night I wrote a letter to my professor. I hadn't realized the extent of the trauma from my grandfather and I still realizing what had happened during the abusive relationship. I told him things that my grandfather had said about my original psychology major and how I'd never make it, that I'd be some two-bit social worker. How that it had been transferred to music by my brain. This professor physically resembled my grandfather and wore similar types of clothing. I went to school the next day, put the letter in his mailbox and fled back home.

The day after delivery, I went to school again. I didn't go to class but I decided that I better talk to this professor while this was fresh or I might as well forget about the music program. He was in charge of the two advanced choirs that I was having such trouble auditioning for. He saw me by his office and called me in. I was utterly terrified and almost in tears already. He had the letter on his desk.

The memories are a bit foggy, I was such a wreck and I've been in tears while writing this but I'm trying to accurately remember what happened.

I was shaking in his office. It was packed full of music and was a huge fire hazard. My backpack was on the floor next to his desk, I had left it in the classroom when I fled. He said that he didn't realize that I was holding so much pain as he always saw me smiling and laughing. He had no idea how difficult being around him was. He asked how he could ease the pain. Then I lost it. I started sobbing. Loud, hot tears that burned all the way up from the depths of my soul. He handed me some tissues and I constantly mopped my face. I said that I didn't know. I was just realizing all this plus some other stuff  (I really didn't want to talk about the rape) and I had no idea how to deal. He said that he realized why I was so nervous singing solo around him and that my voice coach said that I was ready for a more advanced choir. That put a small smile on my face. But I still had to deal with conducting class, now this choir and other classes. He asked me to stand up and conduct him playing the piano. I was handed a baton, music and a stand. It was an extremely simple piece, I could've played it. I gave him the cue and we started. As we started into the music, that dark cloud descended again. He was looking right at me which didn't help. Suddenly, he gives me this big, encouraging smile. My hands are hardly conducting but he says, "It's just me, Harley, not your grandfather. I want you to succeed and I'm here to help you." He kept playing and I tried to keep conducting. My service dog was nudging at me to alert to my rising anxiety but I tried to keep conducting. My knees shook. He got to the end without me. But we tried again and he kept reassuring me.

When it came to class, I wasn't sure how it would work. But he gave me that big smile and I could see him mouthing words to me. He gave me the courage to keep going. I got a B+ in Conducting!

The next semester came and I was given a clearance code for Madrigals. He came up to me after the first class and said, "Carol was right, you are ready for this level of music."

Thank you Dr. Mulienburg.

Love wins, Always.

From Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows:

"His scar burned, but he was master of the pain; he felt it, yet was apart from it. He had learned to control it at last, learned to shut his mind from Voldemort, the very thing Dumbledore had wanted him to learn from Snape. Just as Voldemort had not been able to posses Harry while Harry was consumed with grief for Sirius, so his thoughts could not penetrate Harry now, while he mourned Dobby. Grief, it seemed, drove Voldemort out...though Dumbledore, of course, would have said that it was love..."

Dumbledore said that Snape was an excellent Occlumens and of course we find out at the end that he loved Lily all along. I'm guessing that his continuing love for Lily helped him keep his mask, kept Voldemort out of his head, kept everyone out. Except during the lessons when he took those thoughts out and put them in the pensieve. He opened himself up.

The first brother died because of presumption of power. The second one was consumed by loss of his love. The third willingly went and passed on the Hallow to protect someone he loved. Voldemort wanted the Hallows to rule with power. But in the end it's love that will win.

Always.

Dark Memories-Tulelake Internment Center

In the early 2000's, I was a student at Humboldt State University in Arcata, CA. Humboldt County is on the far north coast of California. They are known for liberal politics, beautiful nature, a large homeless population and marijuana. One of the undergraduate requirements was 2 earth science classes. Having grown up on the West Coast, I was familiar with earthquakes that split the earth and caused destruction. I had thoroughly enjoyed a popular class called "Earthquake Country" for my lower level earth science requirement so I chose Geology of California for the upper level requirement.

The class itself was rather monotonous. The professor read aloud from the textbook instead of actual lectures. The most interesting part of the class were the required field trips to geologically significant area. The first one I went on was to Lava Beds National Monument in the northeast corner of California. Our first night was spent at Trinity Lake. My classmates seemed happy to get away from school and treated like a party by the lake. I wasn't a night owl at the time so I went to my tent around 11pm. Around 7am, I left my tent and went to the shore of the lake. Trinity Lake is quite large, it was already autumn so there was a chill on the lake. I stood there and gloried in the beauty of the lake and surrounding forest. We packed up our tents and hot back on the bus to head to the lava tubes.

As we drove, we moved to a high desert area. The professor announced that we'd be looking at areas around the dry Tule Lake. One of the geologically significant things there was a giant rock formation. It was in the center of the dry lake. The lake had been dry for many years by then. We walked to the rock formations and saw the art on the rock done by past generations of the Modoc tribe. When it was time to get off the bus again, the professor warned us that we might be disturbed by what we saw. He didn't let on why but I soon found out. 

We had arrived the Tulelake Internment Center. The building had originally been used for the California Conservation Corp.

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tulelake_camp

 After the bombing of Pearl Harbor, it was used for another purpose. The Japanese population who lived along the west coast of the country were seen as enemies. At the time, it was seen as a way to protect the US. Now, it's a very dark time in our history. The coastal Japanese population were taken from their homes and sent off to various camps. They were barely allowed to take anything with them and they weren't compensated for their lost property. While we were fighting to stop concentration camps on the European front, we were building them here. https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Japanese_American_internment

The Tulelake Camp was the largest camp and wasn't closed until 1946. There were also German and Italian POW camps nearby. Feel free to read the links for more information. 

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tule_Lake_War_Relocation_Center

"After a period of use, this facility was renamed the Tule Lake Segregation Center in 1943, and used as a maximum security, segregation camp to separate and hold those prisoners considered disloyal or disruptive to the other camps' operations. That year inmates from other camps were sent here to segregate them from the general population. Draft resisters and others who protested the injustices of the camps, including by their answers on the loyalty questionnaire, were sent here. At its peak, Tule Lake Segregation Center (with 18,700 inmates) was the largest of the ten camps and most controversial."

The sun was out but I still felt a chill as we walked around the empty buildings. Although the camp had been closed for over 60 years, you could still feel the presence of the people who "lived" at Tulelake. You saw the barracks that had been crammed full of people and could almost hear their tears on the wind.

I have family who were in the Nazi concentration camps and we were taught about WWII in World History classes. Due to my background, I was interested in visiting Auschwitz, Birkenau and Treblinka. I wasn't prepared for my feelings about Tulelake. The grounds were oddly quiet. Even the animals who made their homes in the empty camp were silent. A chill fell over me. Would it be like this at Treblinka? Hot tears streamed down my face. This was a topic that was glossed over in US history classes. As if we wanted to erase this dark mark from our past. While the Holocaust is remembered, we should always remember the concentration camps in our own country. Tulelake can't be forgotten. 

Notable Tulelake residents included Pat Morita (Mr. Miagi from The Karate Kid) and George Takei. Takei is currently working on a musical called "Allegiance". It first premiered in Los Angeles in 2012 and is now headed to Broadway. "Allegiance" is Takei's legacy. 

The US government has attempted to make monetary reparations for the Japanese internment camps. However, money won't erase the memories and won't change history. 

Blessed be the memory of those who died at Tulelake.

Ableist family bullshit

I am in an absolutely "don't fuck with me" mood. For those who don't know, my sister is kicking me out so she can spawn with the lazy douche she's married to. So I'm back up in my college town, trying to find an apartment. The hemming and hawwing of my cosigner already caused me to lose on the best options. Now I have to go through property management, request access, call my doctor at home and get a letter, background check, blah, blah, blah. I didn't have to do any of that for this other place, I have a personal relationship with them. Just sign the rental agreement, pay the deposit and be done. My mom and sister are already packing my stuff.

I call my mom today to tell her about this place I am looking at and to see how my rat Ginny Weasley is. Then my mom dropped a bomb on me.

I'm ending this trip to go to my cousins  (who couldn't identify me in a Starbucks line) Bat Mitzvah which is a Jewish coming of age ceremony. It's at a private venue, owned by a synagogue. It's a summer camp that many of us went to and there's lots of wildlife.  My cousin says they said no dogs. I email their offices as a camp alumnae. I went for 4 summers. I get an email back from and Max is welcome. After I tried to get a hold of my cousin to no avail, I just said that I'm going and Max is coming. I find out that the RSVP wasn't mailed for weeks after.

My cousin's dad calls my parents. He couldn't call his own first cousin to tell her that her medical equipment isn't welcome at this family event. My uncle wouldn't even call me. They couldn't say it  directly to me. "Sorry, your life-saving medical device isn't welcome." It's at a fucking summer camp next to the beach! You own two dogs you twat! Do just not want my "problems" to ruin her special day? Without him, it would be even worse. I'd scream in the middle of someone talking, storm out of the room in tears and probably hurt myself trying to get to the beach via the old basketball courts. Can't have the oddball cousin ruin your princess's big day! It's a Bat Mitzvah at a summer camp, not a debutante ball!

This shouldn't surprise me, almost that whole side of the family is filled with narcissistic, snobby assholes. Only 5 decent people. My grandfather was my major childhood trigger. I wasn't good enough, I wouldn't make it, why was I doing something stupid like that? That asshole verbally tore me apart.  Now I'm supposed to go to an event full of people who love without one of the best tools in my toolbox? My family didn't even stand up for me, they just took it! My mom telling me how she'll help me. I don't want my mother to help me! I have several things  to assist with independent living, just let me use them! Being doped up the whole time won't help.

I'm sorry but if Max isn't welcome, neither am I. He saved my life, I wouldn't be here without him. So no Max, no me.

Leviticus 19:14-"You shall not curse the deaf nor place a stumbling block before the blind; you shall fear your God - I am your Lord."

I am highly medicated on controlled substances right now. I will likely spend the rest of the day eating trail mix while watching shit on YouTube.

Hypocritical Family Voices

I'm so angry with my parents! They say that they want what is best for me but they never listen! For 2.5 I've been saying how much I hate living in that town, I conflict with my sister and I want to move. But the family keeps saying that I'm not ready, I can't do it on my own and I shouldn't live alone for my own safety. Then my sister decides that she wants me out. BAM! I am moving. None of those previous concerns are brought up, I need to move. And not to a local apartment, those are too expensive. But back to Humboldt where it's cheaper.

The talk of "You should be close to family" and "We'll help you heal" is gone. I was a temporary pain in the ass and they want me gone. I didn't "get better". PTSD doesn't just go away. Fibromyalgia doesn't heal, colitis doesn't leave the colon. THIS IS FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE!

Now I'm back here in Humboldt. Last week I was offered a decently priced apartment. I know the owners personally, they weren't going to demand a background check or an application. But my parents wanted me to look at other places, pointing out flaws with the offered apartment. I wanted to see pictures of the place as it was recently redone. I emailed the landlord and asked for some. She didn't have any but I needed to let her know about the apartment soon as they'd start advertising next week. So I called my mom and I said I wanted the place. But..long story short, between Thursday night and Friday night, the apartment got rented to someone else. Now I have to keep looking which is really stressful, educate about service dogs like mad, pay a bunch of application fees and spend the next 2 weeks grinding my teeth between trips to the toilet!

I was offered the place last week! If my parents had listened to me, it would be mine! I know the rental market here, I know it where they live. They have no clue. Their tenants are ripping them off! Treats one of them like a son! He doesn't pay rent, they go to the movies, dinner, the zoo, the beach and we're not invited. But he won't keep his greasy hands off me! We dated for a few months back in 2012 but he cut off contact because I wouldn't put out. Dude knew that I'm asexual! Now he's acting like my brother from another mother but still comes onto me, nasty! I'm just so angry right now!