Help is out of the question

And now, some self loathing.

I kind of have to do this. I've tried a couple of times but it ends up turning into a hate fest--then I realized, shit, it IS a hate fest.

You see, it's been a suck time to be Xands lately. I mean, it usually isn't a fun time to be me anyway but lately it's been pretty awful. I just want to be left alone to myself and have everything just quit. I'd quit life if I could right about now but I don't like to be rash.

I suppose because I'm negro australis, and because I'm a girl, I'm expected to just enjoy petting. Unfortunately I've had to blow up at a few people now over something so simple as touching my hair. I know it's all green and fuzzy but seriously. I don't get why people won't quit touching me. It is extremely dumb. I feel like I don't understand the workings of the universe anymore. This is all making me pretty upset.

Because I don't have much time to feel sorry for myself I've also been massively depressed. That's why I haven't had a lot to say lately in case you're wondering. I can't really do much without quickly descending into a pit of anger & sorrow. Again it feels like pretty much no one cares, and I certainly don't. I don't have any time or reason to care because, well, no one else does. I should really get over myself and pull myself up by my bootstraps because considering what's going on in the world it's not that tragic being me anyway, I guess. I guess.

I'll be done with all this at some point one way or another, but a few days ago my dad dropped a bit of a bombshell on me. He's going to seek help. He's finally getting himself together, and I'm pretty sure he's for real this time because he was talking about basically institutionalizing himself for 3 months.

I thought, "holy shit." as he'd tried the rehab thing before and that clearly didn't work. But this? Damn. He's also planning on leaving the state completely because it seems like all his trouble comes from the company he keeps in TN, and that company fucking follows him like flies on a carcass. Hopefully it won't follow him to Kentucky, which is where he's planning on going. I'm planning on leaving TN myself after school because it really just sucks here. But it sucks everywhere in varying degrees.

In any case, after I heard this somber news I just though, "WELL! here's the strongest, proudest, I-can-take-care-of-myself He-Man I've ever seen, breaking down and admitting he needs assistance!" I think I've mentioned it a few times but I'm pretty sure dad has a mood disorder--I say bipolar disorder, but he was diagnosed schizophrenic a while ago too. BUT he was also never treated for it, except by drugs & alcohol and those don't mix.

Before I could gloat, I realized pretty much how tragic this shit's gotten. Okay my DAD just up and said he needs help but damn if I can bring myself to do the same thing, and I'm pretty sure I do. It led me to the well-worn topic of why black folks (and other people of color) just tend to avoid any constructive therapy like the goddamn plague. There's many of those reasons. My personal ones are pretty common, such as:

1) It's simply not available to me right now for a few reasons. For one thing, mama's insurance kinda sucks and I'm on it, and neither of us really have money for me to go discuss my feelings. That's it.

I tried some free counseling when I was younger & mixing Excedrin with Tylenol for the hell of it (it makes you sick) but it was the worst. I was basically talking to some old white dude I didn't even know, with my mom, and trying to explain why I am the way I am, and since then it's just fallen on deaf ears I guess. Because again, no one cares. He then suggested I see a child therapist, which was so out our league it wasn't funny.

2) It's a sign of weakness. Yes that's silly. Yes mental illness is seen as a "white thing" and yes this probably the one area where blacks are expected to pull themselves up by their bootstraps. I don't feel like my issues are particularly a sign of weakness but I do feel the need to make myself get over them as soon as possible because they shouldn't be happening to me (obviously they do). There's this weird meme that black folks don't commit suicide because we tend to have stronger community ties. For me this isn't true, I don't have a fucking community, ironically mostly because of my race. I'd rather be solitary anyway.

3) No one cares. Seriously. I'm pretty apathetic about the whole thing because I've been thinking about it without "help" for so long. I mean, I guess someone would if I told them, but how many times do I have to tell anyone anything before they start listening to me? It's like I don't even exist 80% of the time.

I feel small all the time, I kind of hate myself. Kind of a lot actually, a lot of the time. I'm not the prettiest, not the slimest, I don't have good hair, people don't respect me, I don't feel like respecting myself.

I wasn't expecting to draw any inspiration from my dad's decision, although I really am happy that he seems to have a life plan now after having such a string of bad luck. I just thought, "well I no longer have an excuse for anything do I?" No, no I really don't.