Our Mothers Want Us Dead. Another Antinatalist Post.

I have spoken at length with other women who, throughout their lives, have been abused, neglected, torn/worn down, palmed off and otherwise unsupported by their mothers to the point that the only logical outcome of this treatment would be our untimely deaths, either from the abuse/neglect itself, from the completely predictable male violence and neglect we are subjected to when we choose heterosexual relations/relationships for survival, or via suicide.  The obvious fact that motherhood is the end result of misogyny, specifically female reproductive abuse including unwanted or “survival” sex and rape, makes this non-attachment to children foreseeable and ordinary and insures that it will never be discussed as if it were either.

I have written here before about what “family” means to me, and from where I’ve always stood, family appears to be the source of overwhelming grief, torture, humiliation, powerlessness and pain including medicalized torture, humiliation and pain if you were “privileged” enough to be born to Western medical professionals like I was.  (Of course, the tools of any trade and any patriarchal conditioning can and will be used by parents to torture children, especially girls.)  Family, if we are honest, is the source and location of almost all of girls’ and women’s suffering including being subjected to abusive male “sex” practices that only lead to one place for female-bodied people: pregnancy and motherhood.  Motherhood is a biological function exactly as romantic as shitting if we are honest about it and children are treated like shit for exactly that reason including grown “children” who were never part of the families they were born into in any human sense.  More like a shit-on-the-bottom-of-your-shoe sense.  Oops.  For more forward-thinking (or adaptable) folk perhaps in a compost-sense: a useful object that better prove to be useful or else.

A goodly portion of us were not wanted by our mothers and common sense bears that out; most of us know how difficult it is to have consequence-free recreational intercourse (or rape) and we activate against pregnancy for decades and not just because of the “timing” although for some that may be part of it.  For anyone who is still unsure, the ways our mothers often treat us make it clear that we were unwanted by her, or at least that we are unwanted now.  Although I shouldn’t be I am taken aback every time I see chronically ill people commenting in groups and on message boards how they are treated almost universally poorly by their own families — including by their own mothers — now that they are sick.  The last time I spoke with my own mother she blamed and dismissed me for being sick and told me I should move to a bigger city “because they have nicer homeless shelters there.”

Why I should be homeless when my mother and my entire family all own their own homes (well, the bank owns them) was not addressed, nor was the fact that my mother only “owns” her home in the first place because she was treated generously (albeit begrudgingly) when she divorced a man who could well afford it.  The fact that she is currently sheltered has nothing to do with her own responsibility, good choices or inherent worth even though she pretends, or may even believe, that it does.  But I digress.

Continue reading “Our Mothers Want Us Dead. Another Antinatalist Post.”

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Crohn’s Disease is a Terminal Illness. Coming to Terms.

After researching this disease for going on 6 years now, I believe I have come to a rational conclusion about Crohn’s disease which is that it is not a so-called incurable progressive disease but a fatal one: based on all the evidence including anecdotal evidence from patients themselves I now believe that Crohn’s disease is a terminal illness.  I have more or less concluded that before but for some reason I hadn’t yet come to terms with it.  It’s not easy to come to terms with something like that but not because I suffer from what is almost certainly going to cause my untimely death but because everyone, and I mean absolutely everyone is lying their asses off about Crohn’s disease including how “treatable” it is, what kind of quality of life Crohn’s patients can reasonably expect, how predictably disabling it is and why, and how it’s probably going to end.

But before we get to the end it’s important to start at the beginning and admit what Crohn’s disease is at base: Crohn’s patients, including myself, have to medicate in order to eat.  And that is serious, very serious indeed.  If there is anything that is any less compatible with life than a disease that prevents the sick person from eating I can’t think of it.  A disease that prevented the sick person from breathing wouldn’t be any less compatible with life than Crohn’s is, it would just be quicker.

Continue reading “Crohn’s Disease is a Terminal Illness. Coming to Terms.”

Medically Futile Care as Ritual. Part II. The Political Intent and Effect of Flogging Corpses, Framing Zombification as “Life Support” Etc. What’s Going On?

In my last post I wrote about an article published in a British medical journal that admitted that medically futile care — care that is not expected to increase a sick or dying patient’s health or prolong their life — has ritualistic intent and effect on the population at large.  I did not pay to access the full article and the abstract did not detail the ritualistic intent/effect so I was left to surmise for myself what the intent and effects are on society as a whole when Western medicine in particular flogs corpses with no reasonable chance of being revived; prolongs the dying process with aggressive and violent transplants and surgeries, resuscitation attempts and so-called “life support” including intravenous nutrition and hydration, mechanical breathing and filtration and the like; artificially delivers and maintains genetically or congenitally nonviable infants instead of letting them die naturally and so on.

I have observed previously that Western medicine attempting to treat untreatable, incurable and progressive disease is also ritualistic and does not benefit the patient except to function as a means of compliance and confession where sick people, especially sick women, are expected to confess their sins of and accept a flogging for being failed producers/consumers under capitalism and patriarchy.  Thus I would include such ineffective care under the heading of ritualistic medically futile care although the article I was responding to did not address or include that type of futility.  As a radical feminist I reject patriarchal rituals on their face and refuse to participate in them at all where and when I have a choice.  I have resisted using the capitalistic patriarchal (Western) medical doctor’s office as confessional, and refused to accept the flogging of brutal treatments that will not increase my overall quality of life or even reliably delay my death, instead choosing to treat my otherwise intractable pain and symptoms with medical cannabis.

So the existence of medically futile care as (capitalistic, patriarchal) ritual does not seem to be at issue, being freely admitted to by researchers who frame these rituals as having a positive effect on society — an effect which transcends the abuse and pain suffered by individual patients who are subjected to it but do not themselves directly benefit from it in terms of an increased quality or even quantity/length of life.  So what exactly is the specific ritualistic intent and effect on society at large of flogging corpses, creating and maintaining zombified “undead” and/or profoundly impaired patients on so-called life support, artificially reducing natural levels of infant mortality and so on?

Continue reading “Medically Futile Care as Ritual. Part II. The Political Intent and Effect of Flogging Corpses, Framing Zombification as “Life Support” Etc. What’s Going On?”

“Medically Futile Care” As Ritual. I Fucking Knew It. And People Are Okay With This?

I’ve been researching so-called “medically futile care” lately, or more accurately, it’s a rabbit hole I fell down while researching nursing and what nurses have to say about witnessing and participating in medically futile care, otherwise known as medicalized torture.  My own mother is a nurse and I know that she, after being a nurse for some 30 years, started to become disillusioned by Western medicine and the horrific procedures and treatments imposed on intractably and/or terminally ill and actively dying patients.  Of course, she didn’t start having a problem with it until after she had reaped the social and material rewards of being a disgusting handmaiden and middle class patriarchal enforcer for her entire adult life including subjecting her own children to medicalized torture: my own brother died from it and earlier this year she brutally criticised me for abandoning Western medicine after 2 years of conventional Crohn’s treatments that were not helping and only making me worse.  With a Western medical nurse as a mother who needs a firing squad (or torturer) amirite?

I have written here before about disillusioned Western medical doctors resisting their evil profession by leaving the field, including leaving via suicide.  Apparently there is currently a movement headed by Western medical doctors themselves to challenge abusive practices in their field including but not limited to hazing and domination rituals in medical school and medical residency; overwork, sleep deprivation and other conditions related to employment in the Western medical field; and cruel standards of care including those implicating medically futile care where doctors feel “forced” to literally torture sick, injured and otherwise vulnerable patients lest they lose their jobs or be sued for medical malpractice.  Doctors are actually feeling sorry for themselves because their jobs as patriarchal enforcers and medical torturers makes them feel bad, and while anyone who has ever worked before knows what it’s like to be coerced for money (and survival) those who literally, physically harm and torture other people in order to maintain their own standards of living will garner no sympathy from me.

The same goes for Western medical nurses who my research indicates suffer greatly from vicarious trauma and professional burnout from “having” to witness torturous medically futile care in their professions.  Examples of such care include flogging corpses which have no reasonable chance of being revived; continuing invasive so-called “life support” for those who are dead to the world and will probably never regain consciousness or if they do will be horrifically and permanently impaired; refusing to let extremely premature or terminally malformed or diseased infants die naturally, and so on.  Get a real fucking job, no matter how low it pays, is my response to all medical professionals who have a problem with physically harming and torturing people…yet continue to do it anyway because some man somewhere tells them they have to lest they lose their jobs if they want to continue to fund their own middle- to upper middle-class lifestyles.  Seriously fuck you a million times you poor, poor self-proclaimed victims of workplace abuse who continue to physically torture vulnerable people for money.  You absolute monsters.

Continue reading ““Medically Futile Care” As Ritual. I Fucking Knew It. And People Are Okay With This?”

Happy New Year! 2018 Year In Review (Chronically Ill Version). Ft. Cannabis Refugee, Esq. Meta Discussion.

2018 Year in Review (Chronically Ill version).  I was sick every single day, 365 days in a row, no shit.  I had a couple of relatively good days but I have no idea what I did to deserve them and was unable to replicate them.  I had a lot of bad days.  Overall, I am feeling worse over time.  For some reason I’m still here which terrorizes and terrifies me every minute of every day.  I surpassed my mental and physical limits a long time ago but no one cares what my limits are.  It’s a miracle that I’ve avoided either the hospital or jail due to intractable physical and mental pain.  The End.  LMAO @ “The End.”  Who am I kidding, this is going to go on forever.  I’m starting to think I died and came back because there is no way any human being could live through this for this long and I’m pretty sure I actually died like twice, if not 4 or 5 times that I can think of.  Am I am zombie?  Or a ghost?  A ghost would make perfect sense since I seem to be invisible now.  What the fuck.  I have no idea what’s happening to me.  The End.  LOL.  FML.

But seriously, I have found myself wishing people “Happy New Year!” as if there is anything likely to be “new” about it when my life as a chronically ill person has been completely the same day in and day out for going on 6 years now (I was diagnosed in 2013).  Meet the new boss!  Same as the old boss.  And chronic, progressive illness is the boss baes.  I no longer have much if any say over what happens to me.  For some reason in my well-wishes I have also included something like “I hope 2019 sucks less ass than previous years” but truthfully is late-stage capitalism and patriarchy — or chronic illness — likely to improve with time?  Is it?  I’m just asking.  And apologizing to anyone I may’ve said that to because in hindsight I realize it’s ridiculous.

I have enjoyed (not the right word) writing this blog and interacting with those who choose to do that.  I hope it has been helpful and a cohesive, coherent and relevant project.  I think it has been.  The first posts I wrote for this project were literally the first opportunity and ability I had in the nearly 4 years I have been here to gather and articulate my thoughts about what has happened to me since I’ve been ill and treating with both Western medicine and now medical cannabis, including what it all means politically in a big-picture way.  I think I did that accurately, and radically, and well.  Importantly, this project also helped me to recover my sanity and even my identity which were suffering under the heat and weight of my lived experience — living with a chronic, progressive disease, as an unkept female, under late-stage capitalism and patriarchy is hell, utter hell.  I know there are people here who understand what that means.  I didn’t understand it until it happened to me.

Continue reading “Happy New Year! 2018 Year In Review (Chronically Ill Version). Ft. Cannabis Refugee, Esq. Meta Discussion.”

Helping a Friend’s Mom Recover Her Speech After a Stroke. Moron Medical Incompetence.

Recently I was offered a part-time job helping a friend’s mother regain her speech following a stroke.  I really, really like this woman and her mother and I am actually looking forward to helping them both get through this.  Yesterday I tagged along to a hospital appointment with the speech therapist and I was struck by my friend’s energy and good humor as she guided her mother through her exercises.  She has been taking her mother to appointments in the evenings and doing this alone for months after working long and physically and mentally exhausting days and seeing her teaching her elderly mother how to speak again nearly broke my heart.

My friend’s mother was a teacher in her previous life and apparently they used to play word-association games in the car during road trips, the kind of “games” that seem to be the playground of the generationally literate, the kind of wordplay I was never able to do or even care about to save my own life.  I can tell that her mother is still very much “there” and that she just has trouble grasping and uttering the correct words (she asked me how to spell my name and after that she did not forget or stumble with it again).  Apparently, the mother was initially extremely frustrated at her speech limitations and fought against the stress and exertion (and compounding failures) of her speech exercises but has since calmed down a bit; she does her homework and participates in her exercises without much complaint.  My friend told me they try to have fun with it and they end up laughing a lot.  I’m glad she told me that explicitly — that they were deliberately trying to make it fun — because that is not a tack I would’ve known to take as I find the whole thing very unsettling in the vein of Dworkin and her comments on female old age and how that plays out under late stage capitalism and patriarchy.  I’m glad they had me go once as an observer to see how it’s all supposed to work.  Of course, after observing for a bit I had a question.

In my isolated, sick and medicated state, while I can still write and watch videos (and read in moderation) I actually think my own speech and memory skills have begun to fail.  My friend and the speech therapist were running my friend’s mother through word association and “priming” exercises which went something like this: “Watermelon, fire truck, camping, blood, starfish.  Which of these things are red?”  I should mention that she also lost a lot of her eyesight in the stroke so she can’t look at the list, or refer back to it, she just has to remember the list as it’s being read aloud and then only afterwards is given the “category” she is supposed to be sorting them into (e.g. things that are red).  Considering her circumstances she does remarkably well at remembering the list when I myself was having a difficult time remembering the items and then sorting them after the fact.

The way it played out in practice made it completely clear to me that if she can’t remember the list, they are going to think her troubled response is a speech-related problem and not a memory-related one.  And although I had a feeling this outcome was unintentional, I didn’t know for sure or whether it mattered because the policy/intent behind speech therapy in her case had not been explained to me.  For an elderly woman who has just had a stroke, this seemed needlessly cumbersome, not to mention cruel and unfair, assuming the exercises were not intended to include the obvious memory challenge that was baked-into doing it that way.

Continue reading “Helping a Friend’s Mom Recover Her Speech After a Stroke. Moron Medical Incompetence.”

What “Family” Means to Me. A Lil Holiday Perspective. Or, Christmas Family Portraits I & II. (An Antinatalist Post)

I highly recommend Teri Strange’s Antinatalism series on her YouTube channel, as well as the comments below the vids.  In the spirit of Christmas, I would like to offer a little perspective on “family” and exactly what family means (and doesn’t mean) in the context of capitalism and patriarchy.  In case anyone is wondering or just not completely clear why their family stresses them out so much, about why the holidays suck, about why everyone drinks heavily and talks small (or fights, or uses passive aggression) when they get together “for the holidays” or why they never get together much if at all, I hope this will help.  I understand that this will be controversial for most of the human population but don’t bother trolling me with pro-family comments, I am completely immune.  Having a family myself I fucking know better, and I know that as much as anyone defends “family” with jerking knees thinking that what I’m saying doesn’t apply to them, the kinds of things I am talking about here are actually universally applicable and apply to everyone under the current system even if the details are not exactly the same.  And like everything that’s true and real, it’s true and real whether anyone chooses to believe it or not.

And remember: just because you don’t personally know about it doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.

So without further ado, I offer the following Christmas Family Portrait(s):

Christmas Family Portrait I.

On Grandparents.

Grandfather.  Your grandfather was the man who was legally entitled to rape his wife, your grandmother.  And we all know that men will be goddamned before they decline to exercise an actual or perceived right; in a sexual context that’s especially frightening because the other thing men love to do is push boundaries, and beyond that, they take things to which they aren’t entitled at all.  So if he was legally entitled to rape your grandmother you can be pretty certain he did and he probably did a bunch of other horrific shit to her too.  If your grandparents weren’t legally married he may not have had the legal right to rape her, but then where did your parents come from?  Think about that just a little bit.  Do you really think your grandmother probably said “Hell yeah!” to the prospect of being ejaculated into by your grandfather when there was no such thing as reliable birth control back then and when abortion was probably illegal?  Was your grandfather just so fucking sexy that she actually had to fuck him even though she could literally die?  Or is there another — any other — explanation that makes more sense than that?  Think before you answer.  And don’t lie.  Also, for all you know your grandfather could’ve been an unknown assailant or John.

Continue reading “What “Family” Means to Me. A Lil Holiday Perspective. Or, Christmas Family Portraits I & II. (An Antinatalist Post)”