Family and Politics

I think I’ve said it before, but will repeat it: my family is filled with right-wing, ultra-conservative, rednecks. I think I am the only progressive, bleeding-heart liberal in the whole lot of ’em. And it has become even more evident during this political election cycle. I am currently “at war” with these family members on Facebook. Yes, I post left-leaning articles and posts on my Facebook timeline. Yes, I am extremely anti-Trump. I am not pushing my agenda on anyone (i.e. I don’t go to their posts and scream and berate them for their right-wing, Trump-loving posts), but they delight in coming to my posts and spilling their hate-filled rhetoric – and I do mean FULL OF HATE. I’ve asked them to please stop, but they cannot grasp that I have the right to my opinion on MY Facebook without being harassed by them. They are family. I don’t want to have to delete them, but I am getting  close to that very action.

One of my cousins tonight called me a “nut case” because I don’t fall in line with her way of thinking. Well yes, dear cousin, I am a certified “nut case” but not because my heart is hardened and all I can spew is hate. But I would rather be a “nut case” than to just blindly believe that Trump and Trump alone will solve all of this country’s woes (and apparently in his first hour as President!) while filling people’s heads with hate, destruction, and doom.

There’s no talking to them. No amount of “please stop” seems to sink in. They think they deserve their opinions, but apparently I am not entitled to my own. If it isn’t an ultra-right opinion, then it isn’t warranted. It’s like free speech only runs in one vein with my family. But then, that is the atmosphere of this entire election cycle.

I get it. I really do. None of the candidates this year are worthy of the Presidency. Donald Trump is a misogynistic, narcissistic bigot who used to be a Democrat and still has a lot of liberal-leaning ideals (he’s just good at turning himself into whoever he needs to be at any given time – a good Con man). Hillary Clinton is a lying career politician. Gary Johnson is a pot-smoking idiot (not to be confused with my intelligent pot-smoking friends) who has no clue where Aleppo is nor can he name one foreign leader that he admires. And Jill Stein, well… I don’t know enough about her, but what I’ve seen and read rubs me the wrong way. And although I supported Bernie Sanders, even he is flawed and far too angry a man for my taste. There is not one single honorable candidate in the bunch. No one to get enthusiastic about and respect. (Oh how I wish there was a Bobby Kennedy in the bunch!) And, because of all of this, this election is ripping families apart.

And so the battle will continue with my family, probably long after November the 8th. I will never see eye to eye with the majority of them. They will probably continue to view me as a “nut case” for it. But I will say this, if it gets any worse, I will start deleting and blocking them on Facebook. It’s not as though they’ve made any effort my entire life to actually get to know me, and with their hate-filled rhetoric, I don’t want to know them.

 

03.22.16 – End of Day Notes

What I did today: Since I had such a late start yesterday, I ended up staying up all night. I got quite a bit done though. All of my usual writing projects and read some more of the theme reveals til I was exhausted. So I went to bed. I didn’t wake back up until 5 pm and am now wide awake at nearly midnight. So I guess I will do some writing and read more of those reveals.

What I learned today: that hate is alive and well in the world and no matter how much love I send out, it doesn’t seem to counteract it, but I am not giving up!

What I am most proud of today:  in truth, I am most proud of the part that I wrote of my noir-style mystery story, The Stacked Deck today. I think it is the best part that I have written the entire month.

What did you do today, dear readers? Learn any lessons? Have a reason to be proud? Share your thoughts with me in the comments!

My Love-Hate Relationship with Darkness

After reading Keith Garrett’s poem, Darkness and leaving a comment, I began to ponder about this love-hate relationship that I have with it.

I’ve always been a night creature. I would stay up past bedtime as a child and read under my covers or sneak downstairs after everyone had gone to bed to watch a scary movie on television. I loved everything Gothic – the literature, architecture, and the fashion, even that of the modern Goths which was just coming into scene in the early 80s. I often mused that I had my own dark soul (and still do) and this was why I was so attracted to the night, to darkness. As an adult, I surrounded myself with anything and everything darkness – clothes, make-up, boyfriends. I began studying witchcraft as a way to capture the essence of the night and all that it embodied. My poetry was dark and foreboding. I played an RPG game about vampires and created my own persona as that of a dark, brooding vampiress bent on revenge and surrounded by ravens. I lived and breathed the dark world I had created for myself.

And then madness set in. I’d always suffered mild bouts of depression, but managed to bounce back from each one. Some time around my fortieth birthday, I became not only severely depressed, but psychotic as well. I heard demonic voices telling me to harm or kill myself. My muses were gone and these voices replaced them more intensely than anything I’d ever experienced before. I become lost and hopeless. I spent my days and nights enmeshed in darkness. I rarely ventured from my home. I saw no one but my husband when he returned from his trips. I refused to go anywhere with him, even to shop for groceries. The result was endless arguments and physical fights. And suicidal attempts. I was hospitalized numerous times and drugged so badly that most of the time I didn’t even know my own name.

My ray of sunshine came in the form of a therapist who taught me Mindfulness and encouraged me to live in the light. I am well now. I no longer hear voices and I am not medicated. My muses have returned in full force. And yet, I still love the darkness, though it nearly caused my demise. Love. Hate. And love again. I just hope this isn’t a vicious cycle and I am just awaiting the madness to set in again.