A customer yelled at me today for being on my phone. I was waking out of the backroom to go pee as one does, the unisex bathrooms all the way on the other end of the store. Had my phone out waking there.
I leave checking my phone and he comes up and I was confused. Thought he was asking for help but suddenly gets in my face and goes on about how he can't check his phone as he's driving for his job and just what the fuck. He gets in my face and just bitches to me. I just walked away.
Turns out though, he was the kilt guy! The guy I saw weeks ago wearing a kilt. Apparently he's a known asshole and now I see why. He had a Santa hat on to but certainly not a jolly guy.
Remember to treat retail workers right and if you're going to wear a kilt in winter, don't ruin it by being a piece of shit.
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Attending what a white person calls a "Pow-wow" when you belong specifically to a tribe that belongs to that terminology and your family were very much so banned from practicing your religion up until 1951'- the feeling of uncomfortibility and sickening anger one feels after that racially charged language.
From a white person who specifically doesn't believe you've faced discrimination is particularly hateful, and eggregious.
Can't believe I didn't say anything not a word b/c of some fucking holiday bullshit. I'm hurt and mean words wouldve made the racism go down and have them understand what was the issue is at its core, and its that you don't get to decide it's acceptable to use my traditions as cannon fodder for your shitty gathering of people just as racist as urself.
There was a big strong indigenous lady there and tonight ffs im crying as I type this bless them, they protected me from their bullshit antics they feel like they can get away with. But not when they were there, true feminist matriarchal figures don't fuck around. Hell we were all laughing about how badass they were telling some lady to fuck off 😤😢😓
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I hate the holidays so much. My depression is already bad, but the holiday season just amplifies it.
Thanksgiving 2020, my mom and I prepared a meal for me and her and my dad. We were still in the middle of COVID, she had been receiving chemo treatments since summer of that year, but she had stage 4 cancer so there was no cure. We laughed our way through preparations though because neither of us had actually ever cooked a turkey before.
I remember giving her a hug. We were talking about what we would do differently for Thanksgiving 2021 (like getting a Honey Baked Ham instead of a turkey), and then she told me she didn't think she would be around anymore by the time Thanksgiving rolled around again. I told her not to think like that. It was impossible for me to imagine a world without my mom in it.
A month later I had to take her to the ER because she was having trouble walking. She went into the hospital the day before Christmas Eve, and a month later I had to say goodbye to her. She never came home again.
My brother and sister flew out when she was admitted into the hospital, but it was still in the midst of COVID and we couldn't spend time with her. She was in triage for three days before they finally found a room for her in the ICU.
The cancer was in her lungs (she never smoked a day in her life), in her spine, and it was spreading like wildfire throughout her brain. There were two weeks where she was in the hospital and we didn't get to see her once because of how rampant COVID was (and the people who fucking refused to take the pandemic seriously).
They had to intubate her because she stopped breathing on her own, and then finally we learned that there was nothing else they could do for her, so she ended up in hospice.
Christmas and New Years was spent worrying about my mom and being upset because we couldn't sit with her in the hospital. My mom spent about two weeks in hospice after that, and I stayed with her as much as I possibly could.
She passed away on a night I was unable to stay, in the final days of January 2021. Exactly one month before my sister's birthday and just a little over a month before my 40th birthday. It never occurred to me that she wouldn't get to live long enough to see me reach 40.
My sister's kids didn't get to fly out to visit my mom because my sister, a single mom, wasn't able to afford plane tickets for all three of them. She couldn't even get the time off work to stay out here with us for a full 24 hours.
And now my sister's former mother-in-law has stage 4 cancer, so the kids are about to lose their only other grandmother to an aggressive form of cancer as well. It hasn't even been a week since we learned this information.
It was 19 degrees outside the day we had my mom's funeral, but this same woman stood next to me while we watched them lower my mom's casket into the ground, with her arms wrapped around me, to give me some small amount of comfort on one of the worst days of my life.
And she's been cursed with a fate just as cruel as my mom's.
I feel so small. I'm broke and jobless and feel like an entirely worthless human being because my depression and anxiety are so bad right now that I can't even function like a person is supposed to.
I'm months away from turning 43 and all I can think about is how much I really want my mom right now.
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Christmas has always kind of sucked for me.
In high school I realized I wasn't just sad I was depressed while we were decorating the Christmas tree. There was Christmas music. No one was fighting. Everyone was smiling and having a great time looking at old family ornaments. I had no reason to be unhappy in that moment, but I felt hollow and empty. It was a turning point for me.
A year later, around Christmas I hit the lowest point in my mental health. I was deep in self loathing and hopelessness. I resented decorating that tree. I resented that everyone was happy and I was dying little by little.
Another year later, I was with my first serious girlfriend. It was always a battle trying to see her with my homophobic family trying to force religious guilt down my throat. Around the holidays if I tried to spend time with her I was told I was abandoning my family. On Christmas day I was forced into a yearly tradition of going to a movie with family friends. One of the daughters in that family was the girl who outed me to my parents. Being around her was like swallowing broken glass and trying to breathe around the shards. My girlfriend came to see me that night because I was really on the edge. It lead to the one the biggest fights I've ever had with my mother.
A few years down the road and I've had a lot of success with treating my depression. I don't have a partner so there's nothing to fight about. I've reached a point of relative peace with my family and it's the first year in about a decade that we aren't doing a Christmas movie with those family friends.
We're decorating the tree tonight. As I type this my youngest brother is calling for me to come upstairs. I should be okay. But I'm frozen.
I'm still afraid to hang those ornaments.
I'm afraid of remembering those feelings. Of living them again.
I don't know how to do Christmas. I don't know how to exist right now.
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