when mary oliver said, "but mostly i want to be kind" and when she said, "there is only one question; how to love this world" and when she said, "it is a serious thing just to be alive on this fresh morning in this broken world" and when she said, "i think this is the prettiest world so long as you dont mind a little dying" and when she said, "maybe the desire to make something beautiful is the piece of god that is inside each of us" and when she said, "also there are a hundred paths through this world that are easier than loving. but who wants easier?" and when she said-
my father cheated. not once, not twice, but on multiple occasions. once he even brought a woman back home, reeking of booze and her perfume. needless to say, it started a war. another time he was passed out piss drunk in the lift, presumably after visiting another woman, and my brother’s teacher from kindergarten (who happened to live in the same block as us back then) had to inform us as such. needless to say, hell broke loose again. my mother burnt his clothes and possessions while we watched, mindlessly cutting cloth into scraps. all times i was thoroughly bemused and probably uncomprehending; i was no more than seven when all this happened. but i knew infidelity, long before i knew love.
two decades later, i try to be fairly apathetic about things most times. if i let everything ruffle my feathers i’d have none left to fly with, and what i need is to escape this bird cage. two decades, i’ve lived with my mother, observing how my father’s mistakes ruined her from within. two decades, i’ve lived without a father, who lurks around more like a stranger and usually only contacts me when he’s in trouble, legal or otherwise, or when he needs money. the past quarter of a decade, i started dating my current partner, who has been nothing but devoted and has never once given me any cause to suspect infidelity.
and yet all mistakes bleed into present and future, from a wound that never properly scabbed. you cast aspersions on his character like stone, even when he’s literally done nothing wrong, because it’s all you’ve ever known. going for a boy’s night out on a Saturday? why isn’t he spending it with you instead? are you sure there’s no other woman? comes back mildly buzzed? are you sure he was just enjoying a night out with the boys? are you sure there’s no other woman? going on a firm trip? are his colleagues going to be there? are you sure there’s no other woman? and it’s odd, the way frustration rips apart the thinner fabric of sympathy. my patience is wearing thin. i am so tired of constantly having to justify and defend someone who’s only ever been unwaveringly loyal. someone innocent. someone who you pinned the crimes of another on, even as you insist i must forgive said another by virtue of us being blood.
but yet again, like any other anti-aging gimmick, you reiterate the need for beauty; the only currency of our gender worth something. if you’re not pretty, he’ll leave you for someone else. he’ll leave you be. and i want to say, look at me! look at my accolades and achievements and everything i’ve done up till now. look at how resilient i’ve been, staring into adversity dead in the eye. look at the friends i’ve made and the places i’ve seen and the things i’ve tasted. the smiles of strangers from miles away, that i’ve gathered in my arms like postcards and stamps. isn’t it enough that i try, mostly, to be kind? isn’t it enough that, after all that’s been said and done, i still have all this love left to give?
(Recently I've been reminded that I actually enjoy teaching sewing basics to adults who are complete beginners.
Because they do things that I'd never think to do, which may or may not improve on what i'm showing them. Because they're asking questions about things that are obvious to me now. Because I can't really remember learning to sew, I was so small when I did, but I know they will.
And because I love how proud they are when they get it, when their stitches have visibly improved in just two or three seams, when they don't need to ask for help for a while. And because I know this high of I've made it/mended it myself and i love that they get to experience it and that i get to witness it.)
they want to talk about mental illness and acceptance and how everyone is a little ocd it's cute and quirky and their "intrusive thoughts" are about cutting their hair off and you say yours are about taking a razorblade to your eye and they say ew can you not and everyone is a little adhd sometimes! except if you're late it's a personality flaw and it's because you are careless and cruel (and someone else with adhd mentions they can be on time, so why can't you?) and it's not an eating disorder if it's girl dinner! it's not mania if it's girl math! what do you mean you blew all of your savings on nonrefundable plane tickets for a plane you didn't even end up taking. what do you mean that you are afraid of eating. get over it. they roll their little lips up into a sneer. can you not, like, trauma dump?
they love it on them they like to wear pieces of your suffering like jewels so that it hangs off their tongue in rapiers. they are allowed to arm-chair diagnose and cherrypick their poisons but you can't ever miss too many showers because that's, like, "fuckken gross?" so anyone mean is a narcissist. so anyone with visual tics is clearly faking it and is so cringe. but they get to scream and hit customer service employees because well, i got overwhelmed.
you keep seeing these posts about how people pleasers are "inherently manipulative" and how it's totally unfair behavior. but you are a people pleaser, you have an ingrained fawn response. in the comments, you have typed and deleted the words just because it is technically true does not make it an empathetic or kind reading of the reaction about one million times. it is technically accurate, after all. you think of catholic guilt, how sometimes you feel bad when doing a good deed because the sense of pride you get from acting kind - that pride is a sin. the word "manipulation" is not without bias or stigma attached to it. many people with the fawn response are direct victims of someone who was malignantly manipulative. calling the victims manipulative too is an unfair and unkind reading of the situation. it would be better and more empathetic to say it is safety-seeking or connection-seeking behavior. yes, it can be toxic. no, in general it is not intended to be toxic. there is no reason to make mentally ill people feel worse for what we undergo.
you type why is everyone so quick to turn on someone showing clear signs of trauma but you already know the fucking answer, so what's the point of bothering. you kind of hate those this is what anxiety looks like! infographics because at this point you're so good at white-knuckling through a severe panic attack that people just think you're stoic. even people who know the situation sometimes comment you just don't seem depressed. and you're not a 9 year old white kid so there's no way you're on the spectrum, you're not obsessed with trains and you were never a good mathematician. okay then.
mental illness is trending. in 2012 tumblr said don't romanticize our symptoms but to be fair tiktok didn't exist yet. there's these series of videos where someone pretends to be "the most boring person on earth" and is just being a normal fucking person, which makes your skin crawl, because that probably means you are boring. your friend reads aloud a profile from tinder - no depressed bitches i fucking hate that mental illness crap. your father says that medication never actually works.
you still haven't told your grandmother that you're in therapy. despite everything (and the fact it's helping): you just don't want her to see you differently.
The hellsite is eating my posts again. We'll see what gets through.
Edit: this one made it! You've asked for a house tour, I hope this isn't boring. There's some rooms that I don't include because I'm working on stuff and don't want to show the mess. This is still not that tidy but it's... tolerable mess. The audio is just Clair de Lune, no narration. I can answer questions if you have them; I'm always happy to talk about my million hobbies and the house is...definitely one of them.
I could also do a photo post for anyone who doesn't want to watch the whole thing.
You don't want to hear the story of my life, and anyway I don't want to tell it, I want to listen to the enormous waterfalls of the sun. And anyway it's the same old story — a few people just trying, one way or another, to survive. Mostly, I want to be kind.
Mary Oliver, from “Dogfish” in New and Selected Poems
╰┈➤ “At times, being bipolar can be an all-consuming challenge, requiring a lot of stamina and even more courage, so if you’re living with this illness and functioning at all, it’s something to be proud of, not ashamed of." - Carrie Fisher
Rio’s request for Miles, before everything went way, way off the rails, was to take care of her little boy when no one else would - treat him kindly and remind him that he belongs
How literally do you think Miles is going to take that
Miles (1610): I just want you to know, if nobody else told you today… I love you
Miles (42): No
Miles (1610): I appreciate you and how talented you are at punching things
Miles (42): No shut up
Miles (1610): And even though you’re not a spidey and were prevented from your fate of becoming a spidey due to circumstances outside of your control in a cosmic mistake that only made your life worse, I want you to know… you belong