bnprime:

gonehometoyavin4withpoe:

snapslikethis:

Confession: I used to belong to trump culture.

Not entirely willingly, mind. I was young, religious, and I made the naïve mistake in thinking that all Christians were like the ones I had encountered at my home church: warm, tolerant, kind. I fell in love, and we did what young, hormonal Christian teenagers did: rushed into a marriage.

I realized my mistake almost immediately, but it took far too long to get out.

Personally, I endured abuse at the hands of my new husband—mental, physical, sexual, economic, emotional. You name it, he did it. Brutal is an understatement. He systematically broke me down until I was a shell of a human being. I’m still dealing with the emotional fallout and physical side effects, and I probably will be for another decade at least.

That’s personally, but let’s talk his family. Because he was an extreme case, yes, but he was raised with the idea that women existed to keep their mouths shut and their legs open. I spit out two children faster than I could whip my head, because birth control wasn’t part of god’s grand plan for my life. I was fulfilling my purpose as a mother, and wasn’t that great? My husband didn’t want the first baby. He wanted me for himself, see? Abortion was unthinkable, but he fully expected to carry a baby—my baby—to term, then give it away.

Keeping him was my first rebellion. Keeping the next one was my second.

In the time I belonged to that family, I watched my mother-in-law endure the same, though less extreme mistreatment. I watched every young female family member be groped by the family patriarch. “That’s just how it is.” I was shamed for making a fuss about it. I watched an older cousin try to sexually assault my teenage sister-in-law and she was the one who felt ashamed. We women made family dinners while the men sat on their asses. My husband and I lived with his parents for a short time. She and I would go to work each morning—an hour each way—with our husbands sitting in their robes in the living room, playing video games. When we returned hours later, weary, exhausted, they hadn’t moved. The standard greeting? “What’s for dinner.”

That’s his family, and yes, some families are sexist, but let’s talk about church. That’s where all of this is validated, encouraged, taught. Imagine my shock, when I went to my new husbands’ family church and encountered muted xenophobia and racism, a heavy dose of homophobia, and some damned overt sexism (see above.)

Equal roles, but different. Sound familiar? This is still being taught to little girls today.

In church, I listened with quiet disgust as pastors preached about how awful my sister—one of the gays—was. I piped up and asked how that sexual sin was any different than the two young church kids who’d just been caught “in a bad way”, soon to expect their first baby. Sexual sin is sexual sin, isn’t it? I sure did get an earful for that one. We did church boycotts: Disney, Target. Every Sunday School class: Job, cookies, and lets pray God saves the moos-lims before they all come over and blow us up. We revered people with white savior complexes who went to be jesus’s hands and feet and save the poor, helpless Africans.

Hate and ignorance, wrapped up in the holy Scripture. Hallelujah.

Meanwhile, I endured this abuse. This abuse, and every door slammed in my face as my husband hit me, tortured me. “Stay true to your vows,” the pastor would say. “You have communication issues,” our sister-in-law would tell us. My mother-in-law: “Linds, you just have to accept it. Love is a choice.”

“But what about the part where it says that husbands are to love their wives like Christ loves the church?” I asked.

My brother in law, joking: “This is why women aren’t supposed to speak in church.”

This America is alive and kicking, kids. It’s never gone away; it’s just been lurking, behind closed doors. “Pass the casual racism and meat loaf, would you? And get me a glass of water while you’re up. Ketchup, too.” What I’m scared about, truly, is that I know this. And these ideas are now validated. Now mainstream. Almost 50% of our population believes this is a good idea.

“It’s our time to take America back.”

What in the hell, if they’ve been saying these things behind closed doors, and if they believe them In The Name Of God—what in the hell are they going to say in the open, now? What in the hell are they going to do?

The 50s are revered as the aspirational yester-year, days gone by. Progress, as we call it, is godlessness to them. We, the godless libs, took Jesus out of schools. We’ve gone wrong ever since.

This is the America people want back, and that’s my first fear.

The second is this:

I got out. And I’m terrified that this, my success story, won’t happen anymore.

I’m the rare statistic. I un-brainwashed and educated myself. I got counseling (against every Christian advice) to treat severe post-partum depression. In the process of becoming a healthier person, I realized what a goddamn mess I was.

It took three tries and a pastor-pseudo-therapist legitimately telling me, “You know if he hits you again, Linds, I’m going to have to tell you to leave.” 

All regretful, like it was bad news.

“Why should I stick around and wait for it to happen again?” I asked.

He didn’t have an answer. I left the next week.

It took a few boldfaced lies (it’s temporary, it’s just a separation), and a few miracles, and a large support system of family and friends who all but plucked me out of that hell.

For leaving? My price was excommunication. From his family, our friends, our church. I am the heathen who Divorced my Husband and broke our home. In that entire city, only three people talk to me now.

(No loss, but it took a long time to recognize that.)

I never, ever would have made it on my own. I had two small children, a new job that barely paid a living wage, and I was, as I’ve said, a shell of a human being. I left him and went straight to the human services office. Without subsidized childcare, healthcare, and food supplements, we would have starved or been homeless. It never would have been possible.

These are the services that will probably be cut first.

How will anyone in my situation ever be able to leave? They won’t. Not to mention federal funding for shelters, crisis counseling for families, healthcare for abused women, and legal services for domestic violence victims. Throw in a court system that doesn’t value women, and a cultural mentality that believes what happens behind closed doors should stay behind closed doors… What hope do abused, trapped women have? None in hell.

If this is what makes America great again, I want out. I’ve been there, done that, and I’m never, ever doing it again.

You’ll take it back over my cold, lifeless body.

This is the dark, dirty secret of Amerika: Women are not free. 

as i child
i was told to recognize oppression as a thing 
which is unnatural
and which looked like this movie or that book or this play or that tv show

but i was never told how to break the chains
does anybody know?

(via bnprime)

crab-child:

theworksofshanyu:

falsedetective:

airagorncharda:

brodingershat:

roachpatrol:

bogusjake:

you know what i want?? a representation of the seven deadly sins where for once lust isnt the only woman and is instead a horny friendzone dudebro

holy shit

A frat house of deadly sins:

Lust, the guy who hits on everyone regardless of whether or not they seem inclined to reciprocate, also known as the guy who considers his own pleasure the endgame of any encounter, consistently failing to give a shit about other people’s comfort or satisfaction;

Gluttony, the guy who overindulges in everything regardless of whether or not it was offered in moderation or offered out of politeness, also known as the guy who’s always high off other people’s weed and drunk off other people’s beer, consistently failing to respect the unspoken standards of politeness;

Greed, the guy who lays claim to every object of ambiguous origin left behind after a party, also known as the guy who hoards things he’s fully aware he’ll never use before they expire or will simply never use at all, consistently failing to demonstrate an awareness of the basic concept of sharing;

Sloth, the guy who only demonstrates any agency when the possibility of getting someone else to do his work for him arises, also known as the guy who will actually expend more energy trying to get out of making a basic effort than the basic effort itself would have required, consistently failing to do much of anything;

Wrath, the guy who finds a way to pick a fight with anyone nearby regardless of the circumstances, also known as the guy who’s formed an elaborate system of self-justifications to excuse his violent behaviours rather than attempt to curb his temper, consistently failing to take responsibility for his actions;

Envy, the only nice guy in the house, also known as the guy who thinks the world and everyone in it owes him something regardless of whether or not he’s done anything to deserve it, consistently failing to recognize that basic acts of human decency do not entitle him to the regard and attentions of others;

and Pride, the guy whose stories keep getting longer every time you hear them, also known as the guy who can’t stand not to be the centre of attention and who only starts conversations with others in the interests of talking about himself, consistently failing to take into account the fact that literally no one likes a person who feels compelled to engage everyone around them in constant games of self-congratulatory one-upmanship.

They are insiduous people, these frat brothers, primarily because you know people exactly like them and could never quite put your finger on why they’re so goddamned infuriating.

the sons of the white suburban moms of the apocalypse

the white suburban moms of the apocalypse:

war: stands up at the pta meeting to remind everyone evolution is just a theory and shouldn’t be taught in science class

famine: invited you over for dinner but everything’s vegan and gluten-free

pestilence: didn’t vaccinate her fucking kids and now the whole neighborhood’s got measles

death: on the way to sign her divorce papers and you just put regular instead of sugar-free syrup in her half-caf no whip caramel latte

Never not reblog

@distractibledingo @masterwayfinders

(via neurodiversitysci)

neurodiversitysci:

potrix-the-queerschlaeger:

kcsplace:

themightytor:

voce-morti:

psychosis–suggestions:

Therapists aren’t people who you “pay to pretend to care about you”, therapists are people you pay to teach you how to care for yourself

Me: I am violently depressed.

Therapist: Oh! Sounds like you need to do YOGA! That will help!

Me: *signs up for yoga*

Me: *is violently depressed in Downward Dog*

Me: I hate myself and only see my flaws

Therapist: ok lets refocus on things you like about yourself. This week i want you to try and journal about good things you’ve for yourself and others.

Me: *does the homework* yeah but i still hate myself but feel bad cause i shouldn’t

Therapist: feeling like you shouldn’t hate yourself is a step in the right direction. Mental health is complex and isn’t something that will ~magically~ improve. We have a lot of hard work head of us but I’ll be here to help you.

TL;DR stop perpetuating the idea that therapy is unhelpful because the results are not instantaneous.

FUCKING THIS.

As a psychologist the amount of bullshit on this site, the amount of fucking dangerous bullshit on this site about how therapy is neurotypical bullshit and isn’t worth it and how exercise is pointless and good diet is pointless and that therapy homework is pointless DRIVES ME UP THE FUCKING WALL

Exercise is fucking important.
good diet is fucking important
therapy is fucking important.
WHY???

because pills alone don’t help. they improve the hormonal imbalance (as does exercise and good diet which ALSO are a form of very real self care as your physical being is sorta connected to your mental one but go fucking figure right?), but guess what? the suicidal thoughts, the thoughts of harm, the thoughts of hating yourself, they’re still there.  suicides actually increase when medicated.  why? because suddenly you have the energy to fulfill thoughts of harming yourself.  which is why you NEED therapy alongside pills.

it has taken you years, or decades to create your maladaptive thought processes and behaviours.  that shit doesn’t disappear overnight. core beliefs don’t change overnight. these are the very fucking core of your personhood, your being and personality. THAT TAKES TIME TO CHANGE

STOP ACTING LIKE THERAPY IS SHIT IF IT DOESNT WORK IN TWO SESSIONS

^This!!!!!

I have been working on and off for YEARS with a couple of different therapists to not hate myself. It took a lot of that just to get to the point where I wasn’t clinging to them as a source of validation to fill up that bottomless pit inside. 

For me, realizing I shouldn’t hate myself and not wanting to hate myself was an essential part of the process that didn’t come overnight. It’s hard to stop hating yourself, especially when you have done bad things you feel you should be ashamed of. It takes a long time. And like anything else hard, it helps to have help.

Right now, I’m at the point where I actually like myself sometimes. I only hate myself after specific sorts of brain and body fails. 

It helps to compare notes with a therapist who’s known me a long time and can remind me how far I’ve come. (I otherwise wouldn’t remember).

(TANGENT: BTW, I have SAD and the thing that helps me most with winter depression is leaving the house while there’s light out. Exercise helps me the most with getting rid of brain fog and anxiety. I also have less brain fog when I eat a large breakfast with protein instead of carbs. These take an investment of energy and I can’t always make myself do them. But yes, leaving the house, diet, and exercise help).

Are there therapists who are lazy or don’t care? Are there therapists who can offer nothing more than “do yoga?” Of course. I’m sure plenty of people saying this negative stuff about therapists had a bad experience with a therapist. 

I bet a lot of people don’t know having a therapist who “gets” and likes you is the most important part of therapy. They probably don’t know you can use your first meeting to “interview” your therapist. And if you can afford more than one potential therapist, you can pick one who “fits.” 

But having a bad experience with a therapist doesn’t mean all therapists are horrible any more than knowing a crappy person with ADHD means all people with ADHD are awful. 

And it does harm to turn people away from therapy who could actually benefit from a decent therapist.

(via neurodiversitysci)

veryrarelystable:

the-adhd-girl:

I think teachers are one of the best examples of “intent vs. impact.”

I’m student teaching. I have worked very closely with a number of teachers and future teachers. Every single one of them that I’ve met means well. I’m sure there are truly awful people who go in to education for awful reasons, but the vast majority of us truly do mean well.

I’ve had classmates who talk on and on about equity and the importance of social justice in the classroom say that they “don’t believe in labeling kids with disabilities.” Or that “the majority of struggles (kids have in school academically) aren’t cognitive, they’re socioeconomic.” 

I’ve had professors who really, truly do believe in doing what’s best for their students talk about how “ADHD is over-diagnosed and would go away if schools valued creative professions.” 

I’ve heard good, caring, passionate teachers say that “the right thing to do” is to NOT accommodate a student because he doesn’t have an IEP, even though he clearly struggled and everyone agreed he should have an IEP. 

These are not evil monsters who actively want to harm ND kids. These are not people who stay up at night plotting to take rights away from kids. These are not people who think ND kids deserve less.

These are people who think that what they’re doing is what’s best for their students. These are people who want their students to succeed. These are people whose hearts break for struggling kids. 

But none of that matters in reality. Their intentions are good. On a moral level, I think that matters. But on a practical level? A kid not getting accommodations is still not getting accommodations, regardless of the motives. 

It is very true that an impairment only becomes a disability if society makes it one.  But the prime way that society makes impairments disabilities is by not providing accommodations.

For instance, short-sightedness is an impairment, but in our society it’s not a disability, because glasses and contacts are readily available and accepted as normal.

If short-sighted people were made to try and train their eyes to see properly through force of will – then it would be a disability.

(via neurodiversitysci)

I was walking behind a woman for five minutes and she got catcalled three times.

wilwheaton:

rafi-dangelo:

I usually walk everywhere with my headphones on, but I had them in my bag and I was reading a book on my phone instead (I do that when the foot traffic is light).  A young Latina was coming down the street as I was coming up the avenue, and when she got to the corner a few paces ahead of me, she turned to walk in the direction I was going.  We were traveling at the same speed, but since she was like ten paces ahead and it’s bright outside in the middle of the day, I didn’t feel the need to fall back or slow down to give her more space. At night, I try not to walk too close behind women just so they don’t feel like I’m any sort of threat.

We got to a corner and this dude standing outside of the bodega was like, “Slow down mama where you goin? You don’t have to work today, you can stop and speak.”

She didn’t break her stride. “I’m going to the gym.”  The Walk sign was on, so I didn’t break mine either.  

A block later, a young guy was coming toward us on the sidewalk riding his bike.

“What’s good shorty?”

She didn’t respond.

“Well you was lookin, you can say something, stuck up bitch.”

We kept walking.

In the middle of the next block, an older man was walking toward us and he put on a friendly smile and said, “Smile young lady, it’s a beautiful day.”

I don’t know if she smiled, but we kept walking. She went into the gym and I kept on toward where I was going thinking about how that was just five minutes of her day.  How many other blocks of five minutes are just like that?  

Only one of them was truly aggressive. The other two guys seemed nice enough and it felt more like a pleasant compliment. It felt like the kind of thing a guy says who argues with women online about catcalling. “We’re not all bad guys. We can’t even compliment women? We can’t even say something nice?”

No.  You really can’t.  I was annoyed in that five minutes and I just happened to be walking behind her with no headphones on.  Can you imagine those five minutes over and over every day of your life?  Nobody wants to be spoken to by strangers day in and day out forever regardless of what they’re saying.  

So no.  You can’t say anything. The quality of your life has not decreased because you aren’t allowed to say nice things to strange women on the sidewalk, but your silence greatly increases the quality of hers.  So just be quiet, and let her go where she’s going.

So no.  You can’t say anything. The quality of your life has not decreased because you aren’t allowed to say nice things to strange women on the sidewalk, but your silence greatly increases the quality of hers.  So just be quiet, and let her go where she’s going. 

So no.  You can’t say anything. The quality of your life has not decreased because you aren’t allowed to say nice things to strange women on the sidewalk, but your silence greatly increases the quality of hers.  So just be quiet, and let her go where she’s going. 

So no.  You can’t say anything. The quality of your life has not decreased because you aren’t allowed to say nice things to strange women on the sidewalk, but your silence greatly increases the quality of hers.  So just be quiet, and let her go where she’s going. 

So no.  You can’t say anything. The quality of your life has not decreased because you aren’t allowed to say nice things to strange women on the sidewalk, but your silence greatly increases the quality of hers.  So just be quiet, and let her go where she’s going. 

So no.  You can’t say anything. The quality of your life has not decreased because you aren’t allowed to say nice things to strange women on the sidewalk, but your silence greatly increases the quality of hers.  So just be quiet, and let her go where she’s going. 

Got it, my dudes?

things I wish autism research actually tried to figure out:

neurodiversitysci:

softandspoopy:

autistic-knight-errant:

wilder-than-moon-light:

absynthe–minded:

• why caffeine works for some of us, but not all, and even then it often depends on the way you take it and the dosage
• how come all of us have gastrointestinal problems?
• addendum to the above: what exactly are our gastrointestinal problems? are we genetically more likely to have autism be comorbid with gluten sensitivity/colitis/IBS/lactose intolerance/whatever else or is it something completely different? is it psychosomatic? the fuck
  
• okay but how does being sensory-seeking work. and what does stimming do to your brain. what neurological function are we facilitating with flapping hands and rocking back and forth and spinning? wouldn’t it be great if we had a serious long-term study of the brain on stimming?
• are you more likely to be autistic and LGBT?
• what are things we do better than neurotypicals?
  

but no it’s always “how do we train the animals to be something they’re not” or “but what made you this way??” or “Time To Find A Cure”

Please, for heaven’s sake, study the gastrointestinal stuff! Because I’ve been to several doctors and none of them know what to do about my constant indigestion!

Oops, wrong blog!

Hi, I’m an autistic neuroscience and psychology student, and I’m actually looking into some of this stuff right now! (Because, um, hello? Why don’t we get some actual autistic people studying autism? We have brains.) Now, I’m just an undergrad, so I definitely don’t know everything, but I actually found a report recently on the gastrointestinal stuff, which said that it’s actually a sensory thing! Basically, a lot of autistics (myself included, you’re not alone), are hyposensitive to interoception- sensory information from internal organs. So basically, our bodies are like “idk what’s happening down there”, which screws up our automatic responses to sensory stimuli in that area (such as when our internal organs are being stretched and should be in pain but aren’t). Which is why I, for example, may go to the bathroom less than others and not know when I’m feeling hungry. This would also cause a lot of pain as stuff builds up in there. Or at least from what I gather.

I think there are also several reports on how gut bacteria differ in autistic populations. I don’t know much about that yet, but that sounds pretty cool and like a very likely cause of gastrointestinal problems!

(If I’m wrong about anything or you have something to add, go for it.)

Interesting.

Pretty sure gastrointestinal issues weren’t studied for a long time both because

1) researchers were repulsed by “leaky gut theory,” a quack theory about what causes autism

2) the study of gut microbes and the gut-brain relationship is a hot new thing as of, like, the past few years. So too new to get far yet.

IBS is also related to clinical anxiety. Stess and anxiety trigger IBS symptoms, even for non autistic people. As far as I know, the reason why is still under investigation. IBS has no established cause or treatment but a lot of theories. As the doctor who diagnosed me explained, IBS is a catch-all for any gastrointestinal problem they can’t diagnose and explain.

And of course, autistic people and other ND people are over 50% likely to have clinical anxiety, so that could well be an explanation.

My guess is that both sensitivity and anxiety are involved. Anyone know more about gut microbiomes and IBS want to weigh in?

(via neurodiversitysci)

megasov:

vashti-lives:

note-a-bear:

millennial-review:

If you wanted to see how many people don’t know what taxes are or how they work, read the notes

I think my only problem with continued joke— tech bros just invented busses tech bros just invented renting etc— is that it assumes these guys are just clueless idiots who don’t know how the world works. The reality is these guys know exactly what they’re doing and what they’re doing is creating a lifestyle that deliberately excludes the poor. Re-invent the bus system so you don’t have to sit next to the poor. Re-invent renting to be even more exclusive.

Re-invent taxes so you be sure your money is only helping “your community” ie other wealthy people and then vote to lower actual taxes so that none of that money goes to help anybody else.

This is absolutely a purposeful plan. Nobody wants to drive on roads with potholes or walk on broken sidewalks but why should our tax money go to *those people* I know let’s create a “community startup” so we can cut taxes without personal inconvenience.

fuck

(via queeranarchism)