I Can Only Assume I’ll Die A Failure

[hermind-defined]

I hate my life, I hate myself.

A song that has played on repeat since my mind started running.

The best part of it all, my mind hasn’t stopped running.

I hate myself, I hate my life.

[hermind-defined]

Finding Strength in Pitch Black Darkness

I was initiated into the #metoo movement when I was twelve years old.  A family member took advantage of me behind my grandparent’s shed and it didn’t stop there.  For three years he would visit for holidays and summer break, every time he would secretly do something to make me uncomfortable.  Whether he grab the upper part of my thigh and say “You’d be so much prettier if you lost this weight” or if he was coming into my bedroom in the middle of the night and harassing my friends and I – he always made his presence painfully known.  I became a shell of myself and carried that guilt for a majority of my life.  The first time I ever spoke of the incidents was less than six years ago and the courage to make that confession was one of the hardest things I ever had to come up with.  Although I never spoke of this incident with my mother, I knew it would do no good because she’d do everything she could to defend her husbands honor and not let a single word I say infringe my step-brother’s reputation.

Last night the truth finally came out.  During an argument between my mother and I, the truth rattled the walls.  I confessed what happened and she didn’t know how to take the information.  She was stunned for the first time in her life.  The pain resonated once again, and I knew due to the peek in the argument the information was not well received.  After more words were exchanged, my mom had claimed I made up the incident and that it probably never happened.

Some may analyze this situation and question it, but it’s not the first time.  The next time I was sexually violated was when I was nineteen years old.  I had began dating someone I had known since the first grade, we grew up together, and I had always had great respect for him.  I was so excited when we started dating.  Our first date was to a conservation park and it was one of the best days.  As time passed, he backed off a little bit but then we picked up conversation again a month or so later.  One Friday night we decided to have a movie night, I picked up all my favorites from “Beetlejuice” to “The Orphan,” I was prepared for a movie night with the cutest guy I knew at that time.  When I went to his house I was so happy to see his mom, we sat and talked about childhood memories and went on for hours.  I felt like I was in a safe place.  As we went upstairs, we put on the movies, took selfies together, and just snuggled.  I managed to fall asleep when he got up to go to the other room, but I wasn’t asleep for long.  When he came back he started pulling my pants down, he proceeded to hurt me in ways I am pained to think about today.  During all of this I tried to resist, and it didn’t work, so I just gave up.  I watched the clock tick, second by second, minute by minute. That was the worst nineteen minutes of my life.  After that I laid in bed with tears rolling down my cheeks, my hair was wet from all the tears, all at the same time I felt paralyzed.  I left as soon as I had the strength to move again and drove around for a few hours trying to process what had happened.  Once I had grown tired, I started to head home.  That is when the situation got worse.  

My mom had been pumping me for information, trying to figure out where I was.  She wasn’t happy when I had told her I stayed at his house.  I had told her that I was upset and started to explain what had happened.  I did not receive a hug from my mom, I did not receive compassion, she turned around and focused her attention back onto her Facebook account on her desktop, took a drag of her cigarette and said something I will never forget.  “Well you shouldn’t have stayed at his house.”  How could she say this?  How could my own flesh and blood say such a thing when I had made a confession something that had terrified me to death hours before?

I will never understand, and it still pains me that I have been wronged by such horrible people in so many ways.  These actions have molded my fear of men and my hesitation to trust my mother. Although the pain isn’t as severe as it was before, what I have learned in my age is that I should not carry shame and guilt over what happened.  It was not my fault.  Regardless if the first culprit was months younger than me and regardless if I had stayed at the night at my boyfriend’s house, it should have never happened.  No means no, and unsolicited sexual interactions are the most awful thing that could ever come about.  I am hopeful that I will continue to grow from these incidents and even the ones I didn’t mention today.  Part of womanhood is being susceptible to these things because you’re simply a woman and some men view us as receptacles. However, carrying guilt and self-blame over something that is not my fault is exactly what I refuse to do any longer.  I wish I could make the world a better place, but realistically I can’t do it on my own.  That is why I stand in solidarity with the #metoo movement.

[hermind-defined]

Advice from the Crazy Girl Who Found Her Way

For the longest time I have been so critical of the ones around me. I will be the first person to dismiss a friendship if someone is doing something I don’t like or associating with someone I don’t care for. That isn’t right of me, and is never justifiable.

However, what is justifiable is knowing when to emotionally shut yourself off from a relationship. To “ghost” someone originated from me, I am the queen of “ghosting” and for a long time when my anxiety started to bubble to the top, all I had to do was tip the cup and pour a few people out my social circle to simplify my life.

There is absolutely some friendships that should be put to rest, but on the other hand there is some friendships that are incredibly difficult to walk away from.

I do my best to be transparent, to always be honest about my emotions or my opinion. What I’ve noticed the last two years I will get very upset because I’m not receiving the attention or acknowledgment I need from a friendship - yet, I still try to communicate with these people. The stupid cycle, right?

The frustration will probably never subside, but I have found a way to navigate through the frustration without letting it affect me.

It is imperative that you learn to set boundaries in life. Set boundaries with the way your time is spent, set boundaries with the amount of time you allow yourself to upset over something, or even set boundaries with your diet; it could be anything. Having boundaries allows you to have control over your life and I’ve realize that I know my place on this planet. I know whether I’m important to a person or not, and I am aware of my surroundings. If I don’t feel like I’m receiving what I need, I won’t cut you off or “ghost” you but I will just educate myself for down the road when it’s time to interact again. No one is obligated to be my friend or associate with me, and people who want to associate with me know my worth. Those who don’t, well...yeah.

At the end of it all. Establish boundaries with your life, this will allow you to enforce control over things in your life. Know your worth, don’t lessen your standards to accommodate those who don’t recognize just how great you are. Relentlessly, love yourself.

That’s all I have.

[hermind-defined]

Reform for a Broken System

Recently, throughout the United States there has been great discussion about the structure of prisons and whether the system poses as an effective form of rehabilitation for offenders.  While reviewing the statistics, money funneled into the program, and psychological benefits, the results are alarming.  The questions at hand are, “Why does the United States hold the number one ranking for most incarcerated people,” and “How can we stop this revolving door system?”  The outcomes to these issues will not be easy to rectify, however it’s time that officials start to recognize that the United States prison system is a flawed system that fails when it comes to rehabilitating offenders, however with heavy efforts, the change can be accomplished to halt this issue from progressing any further.

Former President, Barack Obama once said, “The United States is home to 5% of the world’s population, but 25% of the world’s prisoners. Think about that,” and when being provided alarming statistics such as the ones above, there is nothing left to do but step back and evaluate how the United States landed such a remarkably high number of inmates (“13th” 00:00:08).  Starting in 1972, the United States only had a total of 300,000 prisoners, and today that number has reached over 2.3 million.  Believed by many, mass incarceration started in the 1970’s and has been an exponentially growing issue over the last forty years (“13th” 00:00:50).  The fabric of America is sketched by our pride in freedom, however yet we hold the number one spot for the most incarcerated citizens. Statistics are evident, which provide a solid foundation for officials to admit there is a problem, however, achieving that admission is another obstacle.

How does the United States manage to properly care for 2.3 million inmates, you ask?  They don’t. Medical professionals have admitted time and time again that the United States prison system is not psychologically benefitting to inmates (Sindicich et al). During a man or woman’s stay in prison, 90% of those individuals will endure some sort of trauma (Sindicich et al). While most inmates have some sort of addiction or mental disorder, it’s been speculated that prisons do not have firm guidelines in place to ensure inmates are receiving the proper care (“Solitary Confinement is Torture”).  Some may say, “Why waste the money on these criminals,” however, at some point a majority of inmates will be stamped with “timed served” and it would be reassuring to know that prisons are taking the time to properly rehabilitate inmates before preparing them for the world outside of a cell.  Society does not have much compassion when it comes to newly released inmates; stereotyping can easily be stemmed from one’s past, especially when known that an individual had been incarcerated for any amount of time (Schlumpf 21-23).  If proper structure was established for inmates, treatment would be able to be administered as well as proper diagnosis to those who have underlying issues that may have not been acknowledged prior to being incarcerated.  According to a study in 2017 conducted on a Rhode Island prison, 90% of the male inmate population had an unaddressed past trauma (Tyler et al. A.18).  Due to the lack of preparation for inmates to be released back into society, this poses even more threats for future situations.  A negative combination of an ill-prepared individual, who typically is re-entering a financially strained situation only contributes to a cycle where an inmate will typically land back in the custody of law officials and back in a cell.  Even if an inmate does not make their way back to prison, they’re 14% less likely to be able to provide financial support for their family (Tyler et al. A.18). There are countless gray areas when it comes to the prison system, however a significant improvement that could easily be established is designing guidelines to ensure that inmates are not ill-prepared, but and are self-aware of any preexisting mental conditions they may possess and how they can actively treat themselves.

The 13th Amendment in the United States Constitution could possibly be one of the most controversial amendments within our Constitution.  The amendment states the following:

Neither slavery nor involuntary servitude, except as a punishment for crime whereof the party shall have been duly convicted, shall exist within the United States, or any place subject to their jurisdiction (US Constitution.  Amendment XIII).

This amendment was voted in favor by 68% of the House of Representatives on January 31, 1865 (“Primary Documents in American History”).  This Amendment has relation to the prison reform issue at hand due to the fact the forms of punishment in prison are currently comparable to slavery and torture.  The 13th Amendment formally bans slavery, however the clause of the Amendment delegates that if a person is a convicted criminal, they will lose their constitutional rights, therefore leaving them in the relentless hands of the prison system in the United States.  Only then any prison inmates can be forced to complete any form of occupation from making lingerie for multi-billion-dollar companies to making military weapons for long hours and little pay (Benns 2015).  In the event an inmate chose to be disobedient, they can face different punishments but the most commonly known repercussion is solitary confinement (“Solitary Confinement is Torture”).  When an inmate is sentenced to solitary confinement they are secluded to a single sell up to twenty-two hours a day (“Solitary Confinement is Torture”).  Due to prison reform sparking a national debate, some prisons have taken steps to manage time spent in solitary confinement more closely to ensure that 7% of the prison population isn’t susceptible to the same extensive lengths in solitude (“Solitary Confinement is Torture”).  Solitary confinement aside from hard labor can hinder on an offender’s ability to re-enter society with a peaceful transition (“Solitary Confinement is Torture”). To rectify this major dilemma, it’s crucial to establish more effective forms of punishment and limit the hours of labor an inmate may work.  The modification of the current structured state of the prison system is a viable aspect that could progressively halt the revolving door that potentially lands inmates back into custody of law enforcement.

    In conclusion, to achieve prison reform it’s possible that a small army would only be capable of creating such significant changes.  To ensure changes can be made to improve the conditions of our prisons, it’s crucial to be involved with your government, whether it be locally, state-wide, or nationally.  The evidence of the significant population, psychological damage, and poor conditioning structure is clear, but the rebuilding of a broken system will be the step that can correct a national epidemic that will ensure safety and a potentially better environment for future generations.

[hermind-defined]

A Eulogy to the Other 75% of My Stomach

Background:  This was my first official paper upon my return to college.  “A Eulogy to the Other 75% of My Stomach” is about my gastronomy sleeve procedure I had done.  This surgery saved my life, like I predicted.  I hope you all enjoy my manuscript.

Hello other 75% of my stomach, this is my final farewell to you.  On November 23rd, 2017, I will lay you to rest; you had a beautiful twenty-five years, four months, and twenty days, but it is now time for you to go.  As we part ways I set aside all my nostalgia and face the facts that we just weren’t meant to be.  My goodbye to you is quickly approaching, and its finally time to leave all the pain you have caused me behind.            You were not good to me, Other 75% of My Stomach; you saw my weakness and latched on like a leach.  You thrived off my pain and helped me find comfort in food, while I got lost in my pain and despair.  I sat quietly in the corner and fed you like a bad habit, and while I watched the world pass me by.  You helped create my addiction, you fed my broken soul, and I became dependent on keeping you full so my heart would hurt a little less.  I let you take half of my twenties from me, and now I am taking back my life.  Stomach, you know your end is coming so you’re stepping back.  I am finding strength in myself and realizing you no longer have a hold on me.               Starting November 9th we embark on our final journey together before I finally say goodbye.  You get to enjoy copious amounts of pureed fruits and vegetables, chicken broth, and protein meal replacement shakes.  No, these are not our usual unhealthy favorites, but life will carry on without your control.  As November approaches a new, beautiful life afoot and the temptations you hung in front of my face no longer matter.  The loss of you, Stomach, is also bringing me back to life.  I will never forget the times we shared, but you will never be missed.

[hermind-defined]

I Don’t Want My White Privilege

I walk down the halls of my college and see white faces.  The banter before class is always political and I always here a joke about how the “blacks are making something out of nothing” and “white privilege is bullshit”.  Fox News says it, so it must be true, right? I hear people say that the constitution is fine, and it doesn’t need changed.  Blacks aren’t in chains anymore, so why should we care?  Yet, the very amendment that freed the slaves actually just gave white men the grounds to charge them with petty crimes in order to enslave them again. I am pained by the fact my grandmother supports our president.  I am pained by the fact the woman who built the world for me is finding solace in the proverbial shit that spews from trump’s face hole. I sit here, thinking about the woman who was murdered at a rally and wonder why she’s faded away.  I wonder how she, like me, stood in unity with a community who has been wronged for over hundreds of years. I can’t stop thinking about the fourth day at my new job.  Three black men walked out and my coworker immediately disappeared.  I knew where she was.  I didn’t want to believe she’d do such a thing, but I knew.  Moments after the black men left the store my coworker returns, she had confirmed that she was watching the cameras.  She had navigated nervously around them, she watched them and was extra attentive towards any activity near their backpacks. I wanted to quit right then and there. I think back to my communications class where a girl recited an ensemble about her late sister.  I fought back tears as she cried relentlessly about how her sisters face was torn to shreds by wildlife and that still hadn’t lit a fire under the law enforcement’s ass to find who killed her sister. I am sick of this world.  I am sick of navigating through a world by leaning from side to side just to dodge the filth among me. I’ve thrown myself into the black culture ever since I left my hometown.  My home was primarily white, I grew up with a proud conservative who openly detested the black race.  I bare witness to a hole being smashed into our family television because Barack Obama was elected President. I moved to an urban area and I educated myself.  I made amazing friends and fell in love with the bonds I created with such amazing people.  The only difference between my friends and I is the color of our skin.  I don’t see the exterior though, I see what’s important - their eyes.  I make eye contact with my friends and we have long conversations about struggles in life.  The other night we discussed about how hard it is to be a woman.  Without a doubt, it’s one of the most troubling experiences.  I made it clear, to my friend - being a white woman doesn’t have shit on what she’s faced as a black woman.  I soon heard stories about her experience as a black woman.  “No matter where I go, no matter how I am dressed, when I enter a room all people see is my skin color - they see that I am black and then everything after is behavior fueled by stereotype and stigma.”

Without a doubt, in this lifetime we all experience obstacles.  Mine will never be nearly as difficult as my friends, and I detest that fact. I hate that this world isn’t more culture accepting and basic products revolve around white use. I hate that people turn away the movies and music because they believe it may fall into a Reagan-Era stereotype. I hate that when I buy a bra from Victoria’s Secret, the color nude matches my nude, but not my friends.  Instead, she gets ebony.  I hate that when we travel, I can get airplane bottles of shampoo, but she has to make her own.  I hate that when we enter a store, the sales associates watch her but don’t give a shit about me because I’m pale. The world is not accommodating towards the black community and I want to fight to change that. Small step at a time, I want to see change.  This is my public promise to take part in the revolution and destroy the current stigmas wrongly molding our society.