Kirk, the Jerk

I remember when I was back in middle school, there were three very real constants in my life:

1. The Price is Right will cure any illness.

2. I will eventually marry Jordan Knight from New Kids on the Block.

3. Mike Seaver from Growing Pains was adorable and dreamy.

Sadly, none of those things are true anymore.

1. Even though I'm from Cleveland, Drew Carey annoys me and I don't like him hosting my Price is Right (I have done much better with Steve Harvey as host of Family Feud.)

2. Turns out the one thing I learned from VH1's The Surreal Life was that Jordan Knight was a dick hole. Also, I love my husband. 

3. Armchair preacher Kirk Cameron has ruined any and every wonderful memory I have of Mike Seaver. Growing Pains-wise, I would now rather date Sandy (poor, dead Matthew Perry's character is first tv death I bawled at), Luke (prepubescent Leo DiCaprio) and the magnificent Boner Stabone (a very real RIP Andrew Koenig).

A little while ago, my best friend texted me with a link saying, "I swear if you don't blog about this, I will" and here is what the link lead to this quote of Cameron's:

"Wives are to honor and respect and follow their husband's lead, not to tell their husband how he ought to be a better husband. When each person gets their part right, regardless of how their spouse is treating them, there is hope for real change in their marriage. A lot of people don't know that marriage comes with instructions. And, we find them right there in God's word [in the Bible]."

Oh, Kirk Cameron. You know, your sister is super religious too and I'm pretty sure she agrees with most everything you say. I'm pretty sure that's the kind of family that you came from. But you know what? I don't fucking hear her spouting off to anyone with a microphone or tiny recording device perfect for reporting. You know why? Her job is to act. Her job is to pretend to be someone else for our amusement, entertainment and poignancy. Now, you might not have liked Full House. That's fine. You might think this Netflix Fuller House reboot is fucking stupid and unappealing. That's fine, too. But guess what? She's doing her job and she's not hurting anyone in the process. You, ya big dumb mouth hole, decided it was your job to teach us Americans about God and Jesus and stuff. So, instead of just becoming the most fun Sunday school teacher in the neighborhood, you decided to become the world's Sunday school teacher. 

Well, know what? My parents handled that for me, thank you very much. I sure as shit don't need Mike fucking Seaver telling me what is and is not acceptable. And you know, for someone who seems to live his life What Would Jesus Do-ing you certainly took a departure from that when you got an entire storyline on Growing Pains changed, had an actress fired from her role and then had them conceive a whole new storyline for you because you didn't like the fact that she had posed for Playboy. I got news for you, Kirk, Jesus wouldn't get someone fired because he didn't agree with a job they did or what he perceived to be their morals. That's not very Jesusy at all. 

But, whatever, right? Shit doesn't apply to you, is that it? 

So now, let's break down this wonderful little snippet of advice, you feel is so important for us to learn, sentence-by-sentence...

--"Wives are to honor and respect and follow their husband's lead, not to tell their husband how he ought to be a better husband." 

Well now, that's just dumb. I'm not saying that wives or husbands should be pushing their spouse around or "instructing" them on what qualifies as being a proper spouse but open communication is absolutely necessary to a good marriage. In fact, I'd go one step further and say that it's your job as a good spouse to be open and honest with your husband or wife about your needs. Cause if there's something that is integral to your happiness and you're making your fucking spouse guess at it, that's just a struggle you're adding to his or her life that he or she doesn't need. 

--"When each person gets their part right, regardless of how their spouse is treating them, there is hope for real change in their marriage."

For real, fuck you, Kirk Cameron. If you think anyone should stay in an abusive marriage, you're a dick. That is some of the least Christian shit I've ever heard. I understand that marriage vows are sacred but if you seriously think that Jesus Christ would tell a man or a woman to stay in a marriage where they were being hurt or assaulted, you are fucking more stupid than Mike Seaver ever was. We, as a society, have worked so incredibly hard at making sure that abused spouses know they have places to go in order to get away from their harmful environments and you shove the Bible in our faces and try to use it to convince people not to seek help?

And let me ask you, sir, if there are kids in these families, you think it's okay to keep them in abusive environments? You think it's okay to teach them that this behavior is acceptable? You think it's okay to teach them that they shouldn't protect themselves if they were in this same situation? You think it's okay to teach them that a good spouse is someone who is either an abuser or someone who can really take a punch? And what if they're being abused as well? You think a good parent keeps their child in a situation where they're being hurt? You think Jesus would be okay with that? You think Jesus would just tell the abused spouse to stay put and let their kid become the target? 

Dude, there isn't even one thing about that sentiment that makes sense. Not only have you totally missed the point of anything Jesus ever said but I believe someone once said that doing the same thing over and over again and expecting change to occur is insanity. Therefore, getting your role "right" regardless of how you're being treated will never produce "change". 

--"A lot of people don't know that marriage comes with instructions. And, we find them right there in God's word [in the Bible]."

Here's the thing, it seems like you're living in the Old Testament and Jesus, my friend, is in the New. We were taught as Christians, in no uncertain terms, that Jesus brought us the New Testament and that we're to let go of the Old. That's not ours. It's part of our shared religious history, yes, but it's not our book. Our book is the one with Jesus and the Apostles and the amazing sacrifice that was made to take away our sins. Our book is about love. Everything Jesus did was about love. He sacrificed himself for his love for us. But you're just wasting it. You're fucking wasting his love. Instead, you're dwelling on Abraham sacrificing his son Isaac willingly and without question. You're focusing on the great flood and two-by-two in an Arc. You're fucking concentrating on God wiping us out and only having the "chosen" survive. That's not your book, man. You're book is about love and befriending the outcasts of society. A good Sunday school teacher would know that. 

Kirk, listen, on the real tip, you need to put away all your scripts about the fucking rapture and remember what your religion really says. Otherwise, your just some asshole who thinks he knows better. And that's pretty damn blasphemes.

Author's Note: A very smart and awesome good friend of mine let me know that the biblical passage referring to "Wives, submit yourselves to your own husbands...Husbands, love your wives" is from the New Testament, which I totally messed up on. The full passage read a little differently than Cameron seems to be promoting, however: "Wives, submit yourselves to your own husbands as you do to the Lord...Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her." Here, we see sacrifice from both parties whereas Cameron seems to only focus on and promote the woman's part of this equation.

I'm With Her

I've seen a lot of posts lately: on Facebook, on my Twitter feed, just about everywhere. I've seen a lot of people very upset about the results of the Democratic Primary and I truly feel for anyone invested in a candidate with real merit that doesn't win their election. That happened to my candidate 8 years ago, so I get it. But luckily, 8 years ago, the senator that beat my candidate was a noble man who operated his campaign with respect and had the best interests of our country in his heart. So, after my candidate's defeat, I took a deep breath, put a smile on my face and celebrated this monumental achievement of his. I realized that no matter how much I liked and trusted my candidate that it clearly wasn't the right time and I was overjoyed that the person who won broke through the seemingly insurmountable obstacles that our country had placed before him for so many years. 

Now, eight years later, I am proud of so many things. I'm proud of my president. I'm not saying that he's perfect but I do believe he's a great man who really tried his fucking hardest for our country. I'm proud of the things he has managed to achieve despite so many in our government doing everything in their power to make sure he couldn't leave his mark on anything. I'm proud of the first family and all they've done for progress in our country. I'm proud that even though I'm sure they've had to make ridiculous adjustments that it never felt like they changed themselves, instead changing our country and helping us move into the current century, politically. 

The things is, I'm also proud of my own behavior. I'm proud that when my candidate didn't win, that I didn't lose my shit. I'm proud that my passion for the person I was supporting didn't cloud my judgement and didn't cause me to tear apart my future president publicly and without censure. I'm proud that my disappointment didn't turn ugly and that at no time during the primary did I feel the need to castrate my candidate's competition just because. 

I'm proud that I didn't make a separate set of standards for him just because he was African American. I'm proud that anytime I heard someone mention a birth certificate, I spoke out against that blatant and inexcusable racism. I'm glad that I never took any of his qualities or behaviors and deemed them unacceptable or held him to a higher standard, because he looked different than most everyone who had come into this arena before him.

And what have I received for my good behavior? I received a president that I'm proud of. No, he's not perfect but none of them have been. That's the trouble with us human beings, we're not perfect. I received more progress than had come with any other presidency in my personal history. And eight years later, my candidate is back and she won. 

I'm sorry if you don't like it. I'm sorry that you're in the position I was in eight years ago. And I'm sorry that so many of you aren't behaving like adults about it. I'm sorry that somehow you've been fooled into believing that your candidate isn't an actual politician. One day, you're gonna feel foolish. Not for supporting him. He seems like he has the best of intentions for our country, truly. I'm a very liberal liberal and it seems like he has some really wonderful ideas that I support. I just feel like there isn't a clear path to putting those ideals in place, at least not right now and not from any plans of his I've heard. But, the things is, he is a politician. He's not some kindly old grandpa just fighting the good fight. He wasn't a democrat when he went after the nomination from that party and he had pretty much no interest in supporting the party he was trying to get that nom from. Even now, he's not showing much support there. For those people that are democrats and have been for a long time, that feels offensive and insulting. I'm open to changing the party and making it more progressive, I just wish I didn't feel like he and a lot of his supporters were slapping me in the face as they tried to do it. 

I'm a good person who has been supportive and kept the negativity out of my opinions 8 years ago and again now and I deserve the same respect back. 

My candidate is not the fucking devil. But, she is a politician. Thing is, she's never tried to convince me otherwise. As far as I'm concerned, the only American president we've had that has been more human than politician is Jimmy Carter and that man couldn't get a second term, had a lot of notable turmoil during his presidency and has done a fucking shit ton more good outside The White House and Oval Office than inside. 

All the candidates in our primary have been politicians, save for one. Bernie Sanders has been pulling moves from the Politics 101 syllabus this entire primary and continues to do so. Hopefully, one day his supporters will see that. But even if they never do, hopefully those that haven't yet will start behaving like adults instead of spoiled children who haven't gotten their cookie. Hopefully, they'll stop telling me that the only reason I support Hillary Clinton is because we both have a fucking vagina. 

Am I glad that someone with a vagina has finally gotten this far. You're fucking damn right I am. But fuck you for implying that's what I'm thinking with. That's insulting and I don't fucking deserve that. You may think all of your friends are #feelingthebern but I prefer someone cooler, calmer and with the political savvy to get shit done in the government that we, the people, have. 

I'm sorry that she's not hip enough for you. I'm sorry that because of her vagina, you expect her to not have the faults of men. But most of all, I'm sorry you can't see the forrest for the trees. 

And hey, if you really want a candidate that's not a politician, I hear the GOP elected one. I'm sure they'd appreciate your support of the racist, misogynistic bigot that they're trying to sell. But from what I hear, some of you are considering doing that already or not voting at all, which is tantamount to the same thing. And if those ideals of yours that are apparently so much higher than the rest of us dumb, sleazy fuckers that weren't smart enough to follow your Pied Piper allow you to do that, you've got fucking bigger problems than this election. 

To wrap things up, I'd just like to say thank you. Thank you, Hillary Clinton. You've been in my life since I was in high school. You taught me as a young woman that it's not just okay to be strong and speak my mind, but that it's my duty. You were the first person who brought universal healthcare to my forefront and you taught me how to behave with dignity when things weren't always going my way. You took the seed that Geraldine Ferraro planted in my little kid head and taught me that my world really was whatever I could make of it. It's 2016, baby, and I couldn't be prouder. Our time is now and I'm so proud that things turned out the way they did, eight years ago and today. I'm proud of the progress my country has made and I believe it's better for it. And you better fucking believe that I proudly stand With Her.

#imwithher

My Truth

My anxiety has been worse lately. I'm not exactly sure why. My husband thinks it could be just a release of emotion. He says that because I've been operating in "emergency mode" for a while now that my brain was basically just shutting shit off. And now that things are returning to a bit of normalcy that my brain feels like it's safe to stop ignoring some of its strongest impulses. 

That makes sense to me. Doesn't change that things are sucking right now, though.

I've had three panic attacks in four days and my "day off" wasn't a trip to Disneyland. Some attacks I can classify as minor but the one I had on Friday was a fucking volcanic eruption of panic, anxiety, anger and depression. Every single ounce of control that I normally grab onto out of sheer fear absolutely left me. Impulses raged like I haven't felt in years and echoes in my head of conversations past worked at chipping away my self-made esteem. 

Life right now could be much harder, I one hundred percent get that. I just had a close friend lose a parent, a past work colleague is in the process of losing one as well and my very best friend in the world is also going through a lot of family health issues. There are a butt-load of things that could've gone much worse but it's possible that I'm finding out my brain can only process a certain number of calls to the paramedics within a certain period of time.

Anyway, I'm not really looking to talk too much about that. More than anything, I don't want people 1) feeling sorry for me or 2) thinking I want people to feel sorry for me. Pity isn't something I'm comfortable with. I'm not honestly sure what I am wanting to talk about right now. I know that there are words inside of me looking to get out, I know that. And I know that I'm hoping something that I put on this page is something that someone else will read and find help in, even if it's simply being able to say, "I am not alone."

I know that I developed impulses as a kid that I hid from everyone I knew that helped me cope with my pain. And I also know that when I dabbled in suicidal thoughts at that same age, I decided that I was just being a trendy adolescent and that there was nothing I really needed to worry about despite these other impulses that were very real and that I was very much acting on. 

I know that these impulses got stronger as I got older and that the first time I ever had a witness, it became an indelible and scary memory -- for both of us, I imagine. I know that I've worked very hard to not give in to these impulses but I also know that there are people incredibly close to me that I've never shared them with and that when I made the very adult decision to see a psychiatrist that I never mentioned this to her whatsoever. 

Part of me is ashamed, I know that. Part of me doesn't want to worry loved ones, that's for sure. Part of me truly thinks that my problem isn't important enough to mention to a doctor. And the rest of me can't quite make my square peg fit into the round hole that is self-harm, even though I'm guessing the pegs are squishy and foamy and can be successfully molded into many shapes. 

My husband and I screwed up after our wedding and so I haven't had health insurance these past six months but that will be changing next month. So, I'm hoping that I can start healing again once June starts. So, you know, Wednesday. 

I realize how greatly my life has been affected by this, and not just my past life but my future. These problems of mine are one of the reasons why, despite loving the shit out of all the kids close to me, I've set the idea of children to the side. I know so much of what plagues me is something other people in my family have dealt with and I just can't seem to make myself okay with tempting fate and making a child of mine feel like this. The idea that my son or daughter would cry themselves to sleep at night without knowing the reason why, devastates me. The idea that they would think they were worthless even once, let alone on a regular basis is one of those things that I can't seem to get past. 

In a lot of respects, I feel like the best way for me to be a mother is to make sure that I don't pass this on. I feel like these potential children of mine don't deserve to live a life plagued with pain and fear. 

And all of that is just based on what's going on in their own heads. Add on top of that the stigma from the world about mental illness and it just seems like the best thing I can do for my kids is to not have them. I don't wish this on anyone else, let alone the very people that I would love most in life. 

And, yes, the stigma is getting better. Much better. But it's still there. There are still memories I have of a friend telling me that I was foolish for deciding to go to a psychiatrist because he followed the Tom Cruise method of health care. At my lowest points, my brain still loops through a conversation about suicide I had once where I was told in no uncertain terms how selfish I was for even thinking about the topic and that anyone who considers this doesn't deserve the life they have. This conversation actually played very heavily in my thought process this past Friday and despite the fact that I know I shouldn't, the words still echo in my head and try to convince me that they're true. That even though I was reaching out for help, I somehow don't deserve to live. 

I don't want to be the reason that anyone is ever told these words. I don't want to have the power to prevent this pain and then not use it because of some societal rule that married people should procreate or even because of some desire I have to see if my kids would be the kindest, funniest, most creative kids in the world as I think they would probably be (just based on how awesome my husband and I are). 

I feel like the responsible thing for me (and just for me, I don't know anyone else the way I know myself) is for me to stop my cycle here. I think I would be a good mom and I think this decision sort of solidifies that. And I think that somewhere inside of me, I've always known this was how it was going to be. And that's why I've spent my entire life channeling my voice as a writer, to give anything of myself that might be worth anything to the world. 

And I know this might sound pompous, like I'm saying the world would benefit from my wisdom and compassion but in some respects, I'm just proud of myself that I can say that statement with a straight face. At my darkest moments, I taunt myself by repeating that I don't deserve to be alive but if I can say that the world is a better place with me in it then maybe irreparable damage hasn't been done. Maybe it's still possible for me to not let this disease win and to be in more control of the voice inside my head. 

My husband and I have always said that if we get any surprises, we're just going to go with it. That if fate determines things that we weren't setting out to do or be, that we'd trust in fate and embrace our new roles happily. And that's still true. Neither of us is a baby, though, so I don't really know what those chances are especially without trying but I'm still bleeding annoyingly once a month so game is still technically on. 

In conclusion, I have no idea if anything I said here means anything to anyone. I have no clue if my words or thoughts can help anyone else in a similar situation or position. But I do know that if you're reading this and anything I said sounds familiar to you, that you're not alone. I know that it might feel that way but you have a friend out there in me. I know some of what you're feeling and above all, I know the struggle you go through every goddamn day. And I know something else. I know that you deserve to be happy. I know that no matter what goes through your head that you shouldn't be punished for being in pain. And I know that you want help, even if the idea of help scares you in every fiber of your being. 

So, please keep asking for help, if you can. From friends, from family, from clergy or a hotline. Or me. Just keep asking. Because you are not your worst fears. You are not the thoughts that creep into your head at night. You are not nothing. You are amazing and special and unique. And the world deserves a chance to get to know you and maybe, just maybe, be changed for the better just by you being a part of it. 

National Suicide Prevention Hotline: 

1-800-273-TALK (8255)

http://www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org

God Doesn't Make Mistakes

I'd like to talk for just a minute to my religious and faithful brethren out there. No matter who you pray to or what God you worship -- I'm not trying to single any faith out here. 

There's a statement, an idea, that I've heard all of my life and I'm hearing it being thrown around a lot right now. Most of you can guess the topic which brings out this statement but I'm making a point to not even address the statement in a particular context. I'd just like to talk about the statement itself. 

First off, I'd like to just say that although I'm no longer religious, I don't have a problem with the concept of this statement, just for anyone thinking that I'm looking to pick apart a common religious sentiment just for the hell of it. 

This is not what's going on. This is just my half of a discussion that I'd really like to be a part of. And the discussion involves this statement right here:

GOD DOESN'T MAKE MISTAKES.

Now, most of the time when people use this -- or at least when they shout it boldly from behind their computer screens -- it's to talk about how something we humans are doing to mess with God's plan. And that's the use of the statement that I'd like to address here. 

I would like to quickly preface here that for the sake of this discussion, I'm asking that we all just jump on board with the concept of God. Afterwards, feel free to believe what you like God-wise. We all got that sweet, sweet free will (from God, if that's what you believe) to make our own choices about our lives and I'm not looking to change any of that.

So, anyway. People, let's talk about God not making mistakes. 

The thing is, you're right. God is God. If God is the all-powerful being we believe God is, God does not make mistakes. God has a plan. God doesn't just "wing it". And if God does, the winging goes well. God is God. 

So, here's my two cents:

How dare you question God's plan? How dare you, a mere mortal, decide what is part of God's plan and what isn't? Who are you to decide what God has intended for us? How are you, human, able to so decipher the complexities of God?

Is it instinct you're using? A hunch you have that something you're witnessing doesn't seem "kosher" to you? What exactly are you using as your basis for telling people that GOD DOESN'T MAKE MISTAKES? 

Because you're no more special than the rest of us. You have no finer link to God than everyone else. God made sure we all had the direct dial line. And it's pretty incredible that you feel that you have better knowledge and vision as to what God has set in motion for us.

And that -- that arrogance that you possess that makes you think that you have the ability and the right to pick apart and judge God and God's plan -- is a sin. And it's a big one. You haven't refused to go to bed when your parents tell you or decided to watch the game instead of paying a visit to God's house, you're questioning God. 

Because, you know what? And this is for real. I mean, really for really real. Please take this next sentiment very seriously. You have no evidence that anything that is happening -- at any time -- is not part of God's plan. In fact, God is pretty fucking powerful, so the idea that someone could actually come along and interfere with God's plan is a little fucking silly if you're a true Believer. 

So, I guess the question for you is: Are you a true Believer? Are you truly among God's faithful? Because each and every time you question God like this, you're essentially saying "you fucked up, God. This shouldn't be happening. Man is more powerful than you and can change your will whenever he or she likes." Is that what you're saying? Is that what you're trying to tell God?

You are all right, GOD DOESN'T MAKE MISTAKES. That's an impossibility for a Believer. So whatever you're questioning, whatever it is that seems so ungodly to you, understand that it's your lack of faith in God's plan leading you to these statements. Instead ask yourself:

What's God trying to teach me?

What's God trying to show me?

How is God making this an opportunity for me to show my strength and love in God's plan and for all of God's children?

Because the thing is, God doesn't make mistakes. God always knows. God is everywhere, in everyone and in everything. God offers us the chance to grow in every situation we're in: in love, in compassion and in understanding. 

As human beings and Believers, we need to stop questioning God. We need to stop pretending that we can ever possibly understand God. If we believe that God is real (and at least for the sake of this blog that's what we're doing) and that God is where we all come from, how could we possibly wrap our heads around everything that God is? It's just insulting to God to even imply that's possible. 

And no true Believer is ever looking to insult God. 

So, please, if you're a true Believer I ask that you stop using the statement GOD DOESN'T MAKE MISTAKES to tell other's that what they're doing is ungodly. Because, quite frankly, you have no idea. And maybe it's time we repurpose this phrase and use it at face value and the next time you witness someone passing this kind of judgement onto another person, you can quietly tell them "listen, man. God doesn't make mistakes. This is all part of The Plan."

Tough Love Week -- Native Americans

I'm feeling really sick today but I wanted to try something that I call Tough Love week, where each day I broach a topic that affects me personally that I may have been avoiding a little bit, as to not piss off people close to me (or in my vicinity). Or at least that's the idea. But, hell, it's Tuesday so technically I've already missed the first day of Tough Love Week so who knows where I'll end up with this thing!

This wasn't the topic I was going to start off Tough Love Week with but it seems the best choice for the situation I'm in, since I'm not really in the mood to sugar-coat anything, especially something I feel is a topic that shouldn't even remotely be a fucking thing anymore (or technically ever). 

So, let's hit it, shall we?

Why in the fucking hell do we still think it's okay to be completely and totally aggressively racist to Native Americans? And how is it that we refuse to even acknowledge the very real truth of this statement?

I mean, The Washington Redskins (fuck you, very much) are literally going to the Supreme Court to argue that their fucking team's identity is apparently more important than an entire people's identity. And, honestly, I can't even fucking wrap my head around the goddamn idea of this. Which is why I'm swearing even more than normal.

What in the actual fuck is wrong with people? How do you honestly think that your sports team means more than real human beings? Seriously, like I want an answer to come from the wind or something. I want someone somewhere to actually answer me right now and have that answer be carried through fucking magic or something and be spoken aloud to me as I sit here typing. Because that's how fucking messed up this whole situation is -- it makes one fucking insane. 

And here is where this topic hits close to home for me. I grew up in Cleveland, Ohio. Land where this used to be a thing:

Yeah, there he is all huge and shit. Just staring you in the face with his cherry-red skin, huge-ass grin and other lovely accouterments. Do you know how many people I've heard wax fucking poetic about this violently racist image? And the thing is, we know perfectly well that you don't need a goddamn emblem to identify with your home team. We identify with the Browns pretty fucking amazingly and they have no "logo", no cheerleaders, no identifying marks on their helmets and hardly any fucking wins. Yet, we're still so vehemently loyal to that team that when Art fucking Modell tried to move them to stinking Baltimore, we sued his piece of shit ass and told him that he could take his fucking players anywhere he wanted but that team and everything that goes with it wasn't his to move. 

But, for real, I have heard so many goddamn people talk about Chief Wahoo like he's a real goddamn person. Like his ethereal existence is more fucking important than every single one of the people that he has been tearing down with that toothy motherfucking grin of his. 

You know what? Here's some real talk for anyone who is still sore about Wahoo being removed from the Indians roster of identifying characters:

You are an asshole. Chief Wahoo doesn't exist. He's not real. I don't care how much he's meant to your existence and childhood. He's fucking racist and he should have never, ever existed in the first place. Saying that he means something to you is like saying that Ronald McDonald is a buddy and that if he ever goes away, you'll fucking cry yourself to sleep at night...IF clowns were a race of people and Ronald McDonald was a fucking offensive example of their people and culture. But it's not and he's not, so crying over the McDonald's mascot would actually be less embarrassing and stomach-turning. 

And that's just Chief Wahoo. That's nothing to say of the fact that the team is still called the Cleveland Indians. It's still named after a fucking race of people. AND it still keeps the term "Indian" in our vernacular when that, in and of itself, is fucking racist.

I mean, for real, could we all fucking stop pretending that Columbus was awesome? I'm not trying to say that he was a moron. I didn't know him so I have no idea. But he did mess up his little boat trip. And he did still claim to discover a land that already had fucking people there. And he fucking renamed those people that didn't actually need new names AND he renamed them the laziest fucking name he could, probably to make himself feel better over the fact that he didn't end up where he intended. 

And we celebrate him.

Just that alone should be enough info to let go of the moniker that he established and pay just the tiniest bit of respect to both Native Americans and actual Indian people. Let alone, I dunno, maybe getting rid of stupid-ass Columbus Day. And for anyone seriously bummed at losing a federal holiday, we can easily just make Veteran's Day a federal holiday. It's only a month away from Columbus Day and, I don't know, I kind of think our vets deserve a national holiday more than some lazy-ass racist who has marked our country in such an embarrassing and indelible way. 

And then there's our country's other BIG thing. And I know that a whole shit ton of people are going to get so fucking mad here. People I know. People I don't know. People who have never even heard of me will feel my words brush against their cheeks and automatically hate my very essence. 

Let's talk about Thanksgiving.

And please know that this one is hard for me, too. I fucking love turkey and mashed potatoes. And no one makes homemade mashed potatoes like I do. They're seriously incredible and I've had people write sonnets about them. I also, for a long time, really liked that because Thanksgiving was national and non-religious that you didn't have to hear people bitch and moan about it taking the "Christ" out of it or being pissed that someone else's religion that takes place during the same period of time as a Christian one was somehow infringing on territory that doesn't belong to anyone in particular. But whatever, that's a different blog to piss off different people. 

But, I digress. Delicious food aside, how can we not understand how fucked up it is to celebrate Thanksgiving? And I've heard more than once the fucking awesome reasoning that we celebrate all of the things that we're thankful for at Thanksgiving and therefore the holiday is awesome. But you know what? That's fucking bullshit. And here is why:

1. That's a total fucking excuse. You don't need a holiday to be thankful. But if you want one, that's valid. The thing is, we have to move it, we have to rebrand it AND we have to take the whole first fucking thanksgiving out of it because that's where the disgusting problems come about. 

2. We have done everything in our power to turn this holiday into a pre-Christmas retail nightmare instead of a legitimate holiday. It's become more and more about gearing up for Black Friday and fucking sales for Christmas than anything else. Like most everything in this country, it's become all about money and things and stuff and possessions. So, tell me again, what it is exactly that we're trying to preserve? 

3. And finally, celebrating gratitude by highlighting one of our most shameful periods in history is, well, inexcusable. It's contemptible and quite frankly, villainous. We slaughtered a people. We fucking slaughtered a people, people. And for anyone who says that you weren't there so it wasn't you...by owning and celebrating the holiday of Thanksgiving, you are taking on the actions of the pilgrims and identifying with them as Americans instead of the people already here. Therefore, you have taken these actions and spread them on yourself like the blood of the people they for very real killed. And they didn't just kill them. They took their hospitality. They pretended to broker a peace. They let themselves be saved and then they turned around and they slaughtered their saviors. And now, we celebrate this. We teach our children about the first Thanksgiving and how beautiful it was without immediately telling them how we destroyed that beauty. How we fucking pissed into the eye-sockets of the people that wouldn't let us die when they could have. 

There are so many things that we've done in this country that we've only half-assed an apology for: slavery, internment camps, keeping civil rights from anyone without a white fucking penis, the list goes on and on. But we've never even shit out an apology to Native Americans. Not really. We expect them to be happy on their reservations, like they have the very first American timeshares. We feel like our gracious act of allowing them to have casinos to somehow find a way to support themselves and not die the fuck out is like the most magnanimous fucking thing that's ever been done throughout all of history. We constantly talk about how they're alcoholics and smoke the peyote and basically talk about them like their subhuman. And we've continued to fucking steal their land for whatever we want. For fuck's sake, Mount Rushmore is on Native American land. Land they consider sacred. And we took it and then we defaced the nature of it. And we revere it like the faces fucking etched themselves onto that granite like the face of Jesus on a piece of toast or in the visage of an oil slick on the road. And yeah, that was a pretty cool thing to be able to craft but maybe, just maybe, we could've crafted it somewhere that belonged to us. I mean, fuck, why not just go into Canada and deface some of their shit. "But I defaced it with an American President's face! So, that makes it okay!" But we'd never do that. Cause we think of Canada as a white country and we don't do shit to white people. And if you need references, here are a few (some already listed): slavery, Thanksgiving, internment camps, Manifest Destiny, the fact that we sent back boats of Jews to Hitler before he started gassing people, civil rights, lynchings, Guantanamo...I'm just gonna stop there. And I'm sure there are a lot of people that don't feel this list means anything. They'll feel like this doesn't show any kind of trend to our behavior. And I get it -- cause it's hard to see reality clearly when your head is firmly planted in the sand. 

But, the thing is, this IS reality. This is the legacy of the white man in America. Scroll up and get a good look at Chief Wahoo again. Stare at him. Let him sink into your brain. Set a timer. Look at it for five straight minutes. Keep repeating in your head "REDSKINS, REDSKINS, REDSKINS". Then picture yourself face to face with a Native America, something many people have probably never done. Picture yourself face to face with a Native American and then picture yourself calling him or her a "redskin". Can you picture it? Can you really picture it? Think of how upset people get when they hear the term "hillbilly" or "white trash" and now call him a "redskin" again. And now put Chief Wahoo's face on top of his or hers. 

Are you really still okay with this? Is this really something you think is acceptable? Do you really think that turning a race of people into a caricature, minimizing their existence into simply being your pastime's mascot and then hanging this depiction from banners, putting it on t-shirts and ball caps and chanting it over and over again (Tomahawk Chop) is anything other than contemptuous and reprehensible? 

And if your answer is yes, I honestly only have one piece of advice for you. This is a piece of advice that I haven't given anyone in a really long time. It's not my nature and I, myself, haven't been able to wrap my head fully around the concept in a long while. But here it is, all the same. If your answer is yes to any or all of these questions, you need to sit your ass down and pray. You need to fucking close your eyes and turn your attention to someone or something else that might help you find your way. Because you can't manage it on your own. You've failed at being able to muster the most basic compassion without some God or Savior or Prophet telling you to. So, pray. Close your eyes and pray that someone or something will help you heal the soul inside of you. 

You are not everything. 

You are not most important.

You are not the way.

You're just another speed bump on our road to recovery, trying to fuck up the people actually wanting to make the world a better place. And those people exist, you know. People wanting to make the world better, we exist. You can't shut us up with your rhetoric and you can't keep our voices out with your wall. Nothing you do will stop us from continuing to try. And that's why, no matter what you do, we will always win. Our existence is our gold medal, the winners platform has room for us all and that National Anthem playing in the background isn't just yours. It's time we make America truly great, for the first time in history.

Faux Paso Doble (it's clever if you know ballroom dancing)

Hey, remember back in 2009 when a reporter from Wonderland magazine asked Megan Fox to talk about director Michael Bay and after dabbling in a few Napoleon insults, she instead compared the director to Hitler? Remember when the world collectively told her to shut the fuck up and have some goddamn decency and then she wasn't asked back to the Transformers franchise and we all began to slowly but surely not give a rat's ass about her? 

Yeah, well, apparently Dancing with the Stars' Cheryl Burke was off somewhere fucking around when all of that went down. Because some-fucking-how we've got another thoughtless, disrespectful and intolerable celebrity making the same kind of paralyzingly asinine remarks.

Sunday during an interview on the "Allegedly With Theo Von & Matthew Cole" podcast, Cheryl Burke was asked who her least favorite celebrity partner was on DWTS. Now, other more seasoned celebrities (and human beings) wouldn't have fallen for this cheap attempt at gossip journalism. Instead of answering, someone more experienced or simply smarter would've refrained and moved on to a different topic. Someone braver might've even called the interviewer out on the low-rate question that shouldn't be regarded as journalism. 

And here is when a thoughtless and ignorant decision to answer a subpar and adolescent question takes a turn into "are you fucking kidding me with this shit" territory.

Instead of deflecting, not only did Burke answer said question but she went on to say that working with Beverly Hills, 90210 star Ian Ziering made her want to slit her wrists. She said she considered jumping off a balcony to injure herself and did so with any partner she was given over the age of 65 (save for Wayne Newton).

You know, I realize that even though it's the year 2016, we've still got quite a way to go on our journey to understanding mental health. I get that there are still a lot of people who don't "believe" in psychiatry and think that issues of this nature are made up, bogus or even worse. And I realize that taking medication for these types of issues is still fairly high on the universal stigma meter. 

I am pretty sure, however, that we've most definitely reached a time when people tend not to joke about committing suicide all that often anymore. Most people, save from a certain breed of schoolyard bully, are in total agreement that making light of the topic of suicide is pretty much completely abhorrent and fucking inexcusable. 

Now, I'm not sure exactly what Cheryl Burke was doing the day that fucking memo went out. I'm assuming it was something like kicking puppies or stealing delicious candy from tiny, tiny babies. Maybe she was telling Make-A-Wish kids that once when she was their age, she swallowed a piece of gum and thought she was going to die so she knew what they were going through. All of these things seem like viable possibilities. 

Cheryl Burke has since apologized for her comments and admits that she was "out of line" in her remarks. And kudos to her for listening to her publicist when the poor fucker called her thirty seconds after the sound waves carrying her words reached a human being's ears. But I wonder if she's really thought about the greater damage that she's done. She's helping to reinforce to those people who are struggling directly with this issue the idea that no one cares about what they're going through. She's diluting the very meaning of the words themselves -- words that should strike a chord when someone hears them. And then there's the more personal level. Just based on numbers alone, there is an almost certain chance that Cheryl Burke knows someone that is or has struggled with suicide, whether she knows it or not. She's admitted to having friends and family that struggle with depression and yet she somehow thought that making light of this issue, with a goddamn microphone in her face, was a totally okay and not at all completely insensitive and disrespectful thing to do. Does she seriously think that some half-assed apology that rings with the truth of a politician's smile is going to repair the damage caused by her callous and incomprehensibly self-absorbed remarks? Does she really even care? Doubtful.  

Hopefully Cheryl Burke will somehow learn from this, although one has to wonder how prepared her brain is for the learning process. I think reading her words, straight from the horse's ass, really puts into perspective just how adolescent and fucking stereotypically "Heather" this 26 year old perpetual Mean Girl is:

"My least favorite [partner] would be Ian Ziering. The fact that his name is not EE-AN and it's EYE-AN makes me want to throw up."

"By the way, I also don't know anybody, so I would have to Google almost every single partner of mine, other than Ian Ziering because I used to watch 90210," she shared. “My mom, my crazy Asian mother, would let me watch an hour a week, and I would watch 90210, 8 p.m. on Wednesdays. I'm like, 'Why, couldn't you give me Luke Perry or Jason Priestley? Why you give me that guy?' I know he's on 90210, but give me Screech [Saved by the Bell actor Dustin Diamond]."

"I mean, I could try and hurt myself," she said. "I thought about that a couple of times. I've got a balcony and was like, 'Should I jump?'...I wouldn't die. I wouldn't die. No. I wouldn't die. I would just be like, 'Hey guys, I'm injured this season. I won't be able to come back 'til next season.'"

"Anyone over the age of 65 I wanted to jump," she added, although she was quick to note that her season five partner, 74-year-old Wayne Newton, was 'lovely'."

She's a real fucking class act, isn't she?

Now, I'm guessing she'll have more learning opportunities than normal right now. She'll probably have plenty of chances to practice not saying stupid-ass shit with the overwhelming number of pseudo-journalists that are sure to beat down her door in the next couple of weeks, hoping for a new nugget of insensitivity and brainlessness.

No matter what, though, I think Cheryl will be able to take this experience and use it to better her relationships with future dancing partners. After all, she probably sees much clearer now how easy it is to lose your footing, misstep and really stick your foot in it. 

HA! Just kidding! She hasn't learned shit. 

Personally, I think the real kicker -- what Alanis Morisette might call "ironic" -- is that if this happened in the 90s, good old Cheryl would be sitting in front of the TV, Wednesday at 8:00, to watch Steve Sanders and company doing a very special episode of 90210 to address fallout from this whole disgusting event.

Life

Life almost never goes your way. There are people that will tell you that's not true and those people are either naive, stupid or use the word "blessed" too often. Now there isn't anything wrong with people who focus on the positives in life, other than we all want to strangle them most of the time. But for those people who understand that life can be an uphill struggle from start to finish but still be totally worth it and rewarding know differently. 

I don't like to talk too personally about people other than myself on here so just for the sake of this blog, let's just say that some really shitty stuff has happened lately with my family. When something like this happens, something that is polarizing even for a short period of time and will possibly change your life going forward, what do we do to make sure that we don't lose ourselves through the course of events and fallout? How do we not get buried under all of the details and how do we learn to take care of ourselves when we're devoting most of our time and attention to other, necessary, things? 

I pretty much have no answers. Some moments, I feel like I'm lucky to have even thought of the questions. 

I've mentioned before that I struggle with anxiety and depression, so too often my instinct is to hide inside of myself whenever possible. I become a pro at handling information-based communication but breakdown almost entirely if things get too personal, losing the ability to speak frankly about my thoughts and feelings. I find that in order to properly handle all of the important things that need to get done, I have to sacrifice other areas that take too much of my energy. 

I don't know if this is the right thing to do, I just know it's what I need to do in order to get done what needs to get done. My husband says I'm handling things well. He calls me the strongest person he knows (because he's wonderful) but it definitely doesn't feel like it. I'm freaked out most of the time and am only starting to realize that every single day, I feel like a life amateur. 

There's been no stage that I've been prepared for, life-wise. I didn't know what I was doing at all when I was a kid. Being a kid is like running in brand new dress shoes, across freshly Zambonied ice on legs made of those peel-apart Twizzlers. You will literally never be stable or understand a goddamn thing that is happening to you and hopefully you'll laugh and scream and have fun through most of it.  And honestly, not too much has changed for me since. Each stage of my life has been a surprise and almost nothing like I expected. High School was both exactly like and fucking light years away from a John Hughes movie. I was a brain, an athlete, a basket case, a criminal and a princess but I'll tell you that I never once sat in detention gabbing and learning from my peers all day while we played music and danced and snuck around the school only to be indelibly bonded to them for life. That never ever happened. College, for me, was ridiculously more vast and life-changing than I ever thought it would be -- and I went in thinking it was gonna be huge. My twenties were seriously like almost the exact opposite of how I imagined them. Nothing I did felt at all sure-footed and literally no part ended up with any permanence in the long hall, save for getting my dogs and making some truly amazing friends. And my thirties, honest-to-God, ranged from "what the fuck, are you kidding me?" to "how in the fucking hell did I get here?" And that's on both the good and bad side of things. 

I'm starting to think that the moment you really grow up is when you stop trying to convince everyone that you know what you're doing. Not at work, we all have to fake it there, but in general. When we can actually say out loud that all we're doing in trying our best but are really only guessing at the right things to do -- that's when we earn the term "adult". It's not about understanding anything better or achieving some sort of experiential status. It's just about being honest with ourselves, first and foremost, and then with everyone else about the fact that -- for the most part -- we don't know fuck all about like 95% of everything. And most of that 5% that we do know are like Beatles lyrics, Friends quotes and where the best donut place is near our home.

Some days, I do wish I knew a little bit more about what I was doing. Okay, every day I wish I knew more. The lack of confidence during tough times can get scary, especially when people are counting on you. Right now, I'm finding that panic attacks are a part of my daily life but I'm also finding that I get through them every single day. I'm leaving the house knowing full well that I'll probably have to deal with one sooner rather than later and in my parked car instead of in the safety of my home, where no one can see me. But you know what? I'm still leaving the house. I'm still doing what I need to do. I'm still hanlding my shit like a semi-pro (life amateur status still intact) and I'm still muscling through and staring in the face all of the things that make me twitch. 

So, maybe my husband is right. Maybe I am stronger than I think. Maybe it's not about how scared I am or how many days in a row I have a panic attack or how there are some moments that I feel like the smallest, tiniest speck of light in the world and that everything around me is working to snuff me out. Maybe it's just that I keep going. Maybe it's just that I close my eyes and gather my strength and do what needs to be done. I have my go-to's and my rituals and my panic attack evacuation procedures and maybe it's just that I use them everyday and I don't allow myself to give up at life. Maybe it's that I've learned to accept help from people who care about me and, for me, that's almost harder to do than anything. 

So, maybe I will be okay. Maybe I'll even be good. And maybe my dreams will still come true even though it feels like there's no room for them right now. Maybe I won't give up all over again, every single day, and I'll choose the only life for myself that I've ever understood. 

Cause I may not know what I'm doing but I do know that the world needs me. I do know that no one has exactly what I have to offer. And I guess strength, a lot of the time, is just being able to say that and really mean it.