My therapy session on Monday ended with that sentence. “You sound passively suicidal, which if we are being honest is kind of your baseline. So it sucks, but it’s not crisis mode.”
I don’t know how one is supposed to take that, although its completely true. It just sort of feels like the problem in mental health care. “Ok, so you have cancer, but its only stage 3. So it sucks, but it’s not crisis mode.” Somehow I don’t think people say that.
So. I’m sure everyone who pays attention to academic news, feminist issues, or hell, just watches the news really, has heard about the major scandal at the Dalhousie school of dentistry. My job places me somewhat in the periphery to middle of the whole debacle. A lot of press statements, media commentary, riding fine lines. For those of you who aren’t familiar, a group of 4th year dentistry men had a facebook group in which they made ‘jokes’ about chlorophorming female classmates so they could fuck them, had polls on who they would “hate fuck” and generally made a lot of rapey comments. Public outrage has ensued, particularly because the students worked in the public clinic – ie, with chloroform, on the public. Public doesnt like how the school is handling it, everyone is commenting on it. the canadian dentistry board has commented on it, for christ sake.
And this is my job. Politics, post secondary education, students. This is my job. And it is unbelievably triggering. which feels like such a cop out.
I dont even know how to talk about it. ive been the victim of sexual assault and now talking about sexual assault makes me queasy?
I’m fighting with my mother, of all people. I havent been answering my phone. then my brother emailed me, and it happened that shortly after i chose to look at my phone. so i emailed him back, and then called her. and apparently im a terrible person because i couldnt even deign to tell her that i was ok, but id email my brother. and “obviously im fine” because im “hosting a party” tomorrow. My party, being having 4 people over, all of whom I would describe as my best friends, all of whom Ive gone to bawling because I thought I might kill myself. But you know, I can go “party” so im fine and just being ever so melodramatic.
I honestly want to punch her. I cant help it. I really do.
Speaking of which, my father was a dick over Christmas. Im not going to get into it, it was mostly butting heads but it was just.. I just cant. I need to not deal with them.
Brandon is gone for another 3 days. Its sort of nice. Its probably sort of dangerous. I dont know. Passively is the word of the day, I suppose.
I bought mini quiches and egg rolls and crap for tomorrow. I dont know why. its 5 people.
forcing myself to deal with other people. food is some sort of buffer. here, eat this, be distracted. dont ask me things. lookit, red lipstick and coordinated outfit. im fine. so fine. not like that time i went psychotic and didnt brush my hair for two months. but you didnt know that because i didnt leave my house then, either. whoopsie, dont mind me, haahaha have a mini quiche.
Jons leaving work.
Im probably going to have to quit.
did I mention Ive stopped sleeping?
I’ve watched 2 seasons of Gilmore Girls and 2.5 seasons of Ink master though, so Ive got that going for me.
Rocking this living life to the fullest thing. Rock-fucking-ing.