i am at my wit's end

to my husband,

looking back in my email history, i can see that i have sent you two dozen links over the last couple of years that i found important to share with you regarding insights into our marriage. i never got an email response to any one of these messages - i think we both know i never got *any* type of response to them - and that made them so easy to identify as i was putting together a folder in my inbox specifically for these types of emails. i want to have them handy so we can go through them together, as you've made it quite clear that you will not be doing any independent study. i read and i research and i think and i try and nothing's changing with us. i'm left at the end of every single day with just one question;

why in the fuck do i have to do to get you to participate in this relationship?

i don't know why you seem to think that the moment we said "i do" that we were guaranteed to be as happy and compatible for the rest of our lives as we were that day. i don't see you doing a single thing to enhance our happiness. i don't see you doing a single thing to ensure me that you're not going anywhere. i don't see you doing a single thing.

well, you did something one time. you told me with the kind of ignorant certainty only a man could have that i am severely depressed. you told me that in the middle of an argument, and told me you think i've been that way for, and i quote, YEARS NOW. you have yet to apologize for saying something so cruel and uniformed and out of line, despite my many requests that you do just that. i'm going to leave that topic alone for now because it's so incredibly hurtful to me and i don't know if i can ever forgive you. so i'll have to come back to that another day.

if you only knew the pretzels i twist myself into emotionally and mentally for you. how one day i'm sure i just need to lean all the way in and the next i physically cannot give you any more than i already have. i'm just throwing everything i can think of at the wall, waiting for something to stick, and nothing has yet. you don't feel any different to me when i love you fiercely than you do when i treat you coolly and keep you at a distance. nothing changes for you. honey, are you stupid?

i work hard for this, and you don't do a goddamn thing. and i'm just so tired. and the thing is, babe, you know all of this. i tell you all the time that i need you to be present and you assure me you will and then you don't do anything. you don't. do. ANYTHING. and i don't understand how you can look at me when i'm crying and insist that you are happy. honey, are you fucking stupid?

i'm so close to giving up and that makes me so sad, babe. sadder still that you don't seem to care. you might say you do but i give you every ounce of me and you give me nothing and you know that. so what are we doing? i'm torturing myself for you and you won't even change the look on your face.

i'm not threatening you with leaving because i think it'll wake you up. i'm not threatening you at all. i'm flat-out telling you, Scott, that i'm already half-way out the door, and either haven't noticed or you don't care. neither scenario is okay with me.

i can be lonely all by myself. and i'd be more financially secure without you. so maybe it's time.

be the change

i don't know what's going to happen.

but i won't let this go without a fight.

we'll see if he shows up.

i can't just be angry all the time anymore, though.

i can't be the only person feeling something.

i won't harden my heart, but i will not soften it any further.

time to... well... it's time to shit or get off the pot.

at what point

am i just going to have to say out loud that my mother-in-law appears to be truly hateful?

man, the shit she is posting on Facebook is not only untrue, it is vicious. i actually laughed out loud the other day at one of her posts calling for unity in this time. HA! after meme upon meme about how many protesters were available for Donald Trump's inauguration because the people who voted for him have jobs, about women marching for the right to kill their children, about Madonna being a whore. like JESUS CHRIST, KAREN. this woman goes to church every weeks and prays her fingers to the bone but she will start some shit online. i'm under the impression that if you are not a kind person on the internet, you are just not a kind person. so i guess i'm seeing this woman for who she is.

makes me wonder what type of things my husband would post online if he were that type. would i find him cruel, too?

nobody said it was easy

went to bed November 8th a democrat

woke up November 9th an activist

i'm on a one-way trip to intersectional feminism, holding this administration accountable, and staying WOKE AF.

i will not be derailed.

i will, however, to occasional self-care breaks for puppy dog videos and reality television.

pro life is a bullshit name for y'all

if you are "pro-life" :
can you say Black Lives Matter?
where do you stand on Syrian refugees in this country?
and the IVF samples that aren't used?
what's your position on the state of the foster care system?
how do you feel about Plan B?
are masturbatory emissions pre-pregnancy abortion, y or n?
do you support subsidized heathcare?
... or paid family leave upgrades?
... or child care?

seriously just whose fucking life are you "pro?"

does he ever doubt himself like this?

does he ever wonder if he's crazy?
does he ever feel like he'll never make me understand, no matter how hard he tries?
does he ever just want me to disappear?
does he ever question his own emotions?
does he ever know that something is wrong but not be able to pinpoint it?
does he think like me and just hide it better?

or am i right to doubt myself like this?

i'm fucking doing it

started the process today on either running for office or helping someone better equipped than i am to run for office. fuck this shit. 1/20/17 - mark it. this is the day i don't give a fuck how anyone else perceives my activism and my choices and my politics. i'm writing it down right now. i would rather be a single, old, childless woman who did the right thing than allow my whiteness to soothe me in the face of actual fucking fascism. YES WE CAN. and

i

fucking

will.

okay, so, feminism

this is a huge topic for me and this for sure won't be the only time i write about it. i have so much to say, and i don't feel like anyone besides me gives a shit about my thoughts. but, online diary, you don't have a choice so here goes. there are so many people in this world who are SO QUICK to get defensive and take personally the slightest suggestion that life isn't as fair for others as it might be for said people. bring up white privilege and so many people clutch their pearls - what about BET? there wouldn't be a White Entertainment Television! what about black history month? can you imagine if the roles were reversed? you and i know, blog, why these are stupid questions and so we don't have to talk about them. i'm merely bringing them up because it's the same way with feminism. instead of striving to understand one another, men put women down and are openly misogynistic. women reject feminism as a bunch of hairy-legged liberals and internalize misogyny. white women refuse to hear that black, Latina, queer, trans women don't get the warm and fuzzies from us like we are sure they do. no one wants to hear each other. we're all just waiting to talk. i know this because i do the same thing. when it comes to US vs. THEM i'm not always patient. i'm not always as open-minded as i'd like to be. and, truthfully, when it comes to feminism - an belief system around which i have built my entire adult life - my first thoughts about someone else's input aren't always rational or fair or helpful. that being said, when it comes to feminism, i am *much* better at waiting to respond. i'm so much better at recognizing that my first thoughts don't always and sometimes shouldn't represent my position. and so i'm careful. and i listen and i hear and i learn. i want so badly to be recognized as a hashtag not all white women type of woman, but that's gross. it's just a symptom of my need to be validated, and that extends to every part of my life. so i can quiet it but it's still there. but even though i think i feel a deeper understanding of intersectional feminism than maybe other white women do, what i do with that? i don't know any black women very well. i don't know any Latina women very well. i don't know any trans women. and i only know a couple of lesbians, and not that well at all. and the women i do know in those categories either don't count themselves as feminists or i have been too busy (i guess?) to ask them about it. so how i can claim intersectionality if it's just me and my white feminist friends?

............

welp, i could've saved myself a lot of time. i just googled "feminist groups in my area" and it looks like there are some like-minded ladies around here. i just requested membership to my local NOW chapter and their next meeting is on 2/04. time to get to work. more incoherent thoughts on this vast and beautiful topic another day, i'm sure.

where the fuck have i been?

a white, middle-class girl doesn't have to spend her whole life educating herself on the way the world works, because her world works just fine. but i woke up, and now i know so much and i'm learning so much more. i'm embarrassed by how much time i wasted not knowing, not actively trying to know more. i won't let my kids get away with this.

stunted

i feel frozen in inaction most of the time. i have a job that i barely do and no one really notices me barely doing it, although i've probably just jinxed it. so what i do instead is a 50/50 split : 50% of my time i'm watching netflix and the other 50% i'm in an internet k-hole learning about the financial crisis of 2008 and the history of anti-Catholicism in the U.S. and intersectional feminism. i fancy myself a critical thinker and i'm trying to jam so much shit into my brain - if i'm being honest i'm doing this so that my husband can't shut down every argument i make. so since we're being honest am i really happy in my marriage or am i just frozen in inaction?

sometimes i write so i don't fucking scream.

scott had the day off. awesome. i wish i did, especially since it was raining when i left today and he was cuddled on the couch with the dogs. it was tough to leave because they all looked so cute and comfy. i should be accustomed to scott not doing fucking anything around this house unless i specifically ask him to but, amazingly, i let myself be surprised every time it happens. i come home after stopping at two different places to get the beer he wants (not with cash, like we promised we would shop) (plus he knows good and well i'm not drinking right now so why the fuck would i need to get the beer) and come home to a house with no fucking lights on, the tv on Fox "news" channel (like it always is - i swear to god it's propaganda and scott eats it up), and his shop looks really clean.... meanwhile everything he hasn't thrown out is now crowded in the garage (THAT IS NOT CLEANING, SCOTT, THAT IS JUST MOVING THINGS) and, lo and goddamn behold, he has only done one thing in my house today and that's load the dishwasher. a four second chore... i will not say thank you for that even though i am actively practicing gratitude right now. the kitchen counter is a mess and it took me less than one full minute to straighten it. i don't care if he doesn't care if the house is straightened up. i care so sometimes he needs to fucking care. i'm not pleased to be so worked up about what amounts to nothing but here i am anyway. at least i'm writing instead of yelling or sulking; both tactics are classic melissa  and neither is fair nor compelling. he doesn't see this and maybe i shouldn't either but sometimes when things like this happen i think he must not give a shit about me at all. he knew i was on my way home - i texted him as much. and he knew i was going out of my way to do a favor for him on my way home. call me crazy, but shouldn't he have been ready for me to get here? like do what you want all day - it's your fucking day - but when you know that in 25-35 minutes i'll be here turn on the motherfucking lights. straighten up the fucking kitchen counter. make a plan for all the shit you just put in the garage. have the dogs out and peed already. WHY. DO. I. HAVE. TO. DO. ANYTHING. THE. MOMENT. I. GET. HERE. WHEN. YOU'VE. BEEN. HOME. ALL. GODDAMN. DAY. i'm sure i'll come back to read this and be very embarrassed.

should i stay or should i go

Donald Trump will be inaugurated as our 45th president this week. i have so many thoughts about it but none that prompt description at the moment. my prevailing thought now is about the Women's March the day after the inauguration. The march in D.C. is going to be enormous - probably bigger than the inauguration celebration. there's a march here, in Beaumont, and i'm struggling. i want to go, and i don't want to go. i know scott won't go. i don't know who else is going. it's an incredibly adolescent concern - who's going to be there? - but i'm concerned anyway. i read somewhere recently that, if one wonders if they'd have participated in the civil rights movement in the 60s, they only need to look at their participation in the civil rights movement of today. am i a coward? should i go? how much does this mean to me? am i taking the easy way out if i don't help stand up for others? i am all talk? will i regret it if i don't go? i need to think.

the ides of january

this is a diary without a lock. at my healthiest, mentally, i write routinely. i dropped that habit years ago and have found myself shouting what i ought to be writing down. so here we go. my new year's resolution is to remember that this outlet is available and to use it regularly. i have too much to say at the moment; nothing is an emergency and i don't want to pick a fight internally in order to write so i'll leave it at this for now. 2017 will finally be the year i make choices keeping the long run in mind rather than choosing instant gratification.