Blog: I'm Angry, I'm Anxious, & I'm Over It

Hi y’all,

If you're rejoining us from last week, I have unfortunate news for you. Unlike last week’s show & tell installment here on the blog, this week will take a much more serious twist, if the title weren't indicative enough of that. I have had a lot of people reaching out in the last week, specifically asking me when new music is coming out & I feel that I need to fill you in on what my life has looked like & why there has been a bit musical gap in my catalog. A lot of that will have to do with my current mental state as well as the goings on of the world, specifically here in The US. I know a lot of you who actually need to read this blog won’t do so because it may seen hyperbolic, incendiary, inflammatory, farfetched, catastrophizing, ludicrous, or otherwise conflict with something you believe or are just blatantly ignoring. I will let you know that I am not here to pull punches. I’m here to be honest, to write the truth of everything happening & how it is making me feel.

Let me start by addressing the music question. As a fee of you may also have noticed, these blog entries have gotten somewhat inconsistent. That’s not intentional, but it does also tie into the lack of music. You see I have been so stressed out, so anxious, so angry, frustrated, & over encumbered that it has caused me to enter into what basically equates to a state of paralysis most days. My creativity has flown the coop & my body is in a constant state of flight or fight wrestling between maintaining the most pedestrian of states or packing up & selling everything I can to GTFO out of this rotting, bloated whale of a country before it collapses in on me. I am so anxious most days that all I can do to not slide into a full on panic attack is just go numb, do nothing, distract myself any way I can. I literally wake up most days after sleeping through all of my alarms to do my best to make it through the day without booking one way tickets to anywhere & leaving my house to fall to ruin. I go to bed & I have to find something to lull my mind outside of itself for long enough to allow me to finally fall asleep. Typically, from the time I get into bed, to the time I fall asleep, this ends up being about four hours. Additionally, my body wakes me up every thirty minutes to an hour in a panic until Evan wakes up for work & I am able to sleep through knowing full well if something happened he’d come wake me up. It’s exhausting & it’s a horrible way to live if I’m being honest, but that’s how fascism works.

They want us so bogged down with all of the harm that they’re doing to everyone that it overwhelms us. They want us to be in a panic, like a deer in the headlights, not knowing which way to run off for safety. Fascism thrives on it. So, alas, here I am.

I am a queer, chronically depressed, neurodivergent leftist living in a deep red state. In fact, the red state that was just rated to have the lowest quality of life of anywhere in the country. We beat Alabama this year, nuts. I know that I have three things working in my favor at the moment: I’m caucasian, I’m a man, & I have financial resources available to me, but that does very little to placate my fears, & yes, they are fears.

This current administration continues to denigrate & strip the citizens of this country of the fundamental things a government is meant to provide for its people while also vilifying anyone who they deem lesser amongst their constant barrage of misinformation, disinformation, & outright propaganda. They have striped this country of its checks & balances & continue to do so further with every passing day it seems. They’re outright opening concentration camps, which some of you are way too chill with, & send innocent people to their death either through deportation, malnutrition, or starvation all under the banner of “christian values.” It disgusts me & what disgusts me further is the amount of you I know personally that are okay with all of this or at the bare minimum, passive to it. Your passivity is your support. It is abundantly clear what side of history you stand on & unfortunately, I feel it has ruined my ability to respect or trust any of you ever again. You truly should be ashamed of yourselves. God knows I’m ashamed of you.

So that leads us to the anger, which if you haven’t guessed, we’re deep within.

I loathe being an angry, hateful person. It feels like poison to the soul for me, but I can’t escape it & I can’t channel it at the largest, most responsible targets out there, so I am forced to funnel it down into those I know who are complicit in all of this, those who I know voted for this. Those who, despite the horrible things done from 2016-2020, or the continuous stream of lies, slander, divisive politics, & hate, still supported it in 2020 & 2024. I live in cold fury for all of you.

My entire family voted for Trump, My entire family. I’ll announce that, because at the end of all of this, when the damage has been done & we revert away from the authoritarian bullshit, because it’s not sustainable, everyone will deny they had any involvement in it or support of it. My family, who has a son/brother/nephew/grandchild/cousin/etc in a same sex relationship, who profess to love the teachings of Jesus, all voted for a man who actively seeks to do Evan & I harm & all the other people they claim to “love” behind the mask of christianity all voted for one of the most hateful, deceptive candidates in the written history of the globe & still to this day don’t seem to understand why I take issue with that. They don’t understand why it has strained our relationships, why I go on the defense or shut down around them, why I avoided going back to see them as long as I could, why every part of me wants to leave all of this behind & find a corner of the world where people actually care about one another & don’t actively do things to harm those they claim to love. I resent them & I hate that I resent them, but I do, because they go on living their lives like nothing is wrong. Like this is just another presidential cycle & all of this will be undone in four years when in reality people are dying, losing their rights, & being shipped God knows where because of it.

I also have the benefit of education &, honestly, nuerodivergence. I am an expert at pattern recognition & had to take a course at University all about the rise of Nazi Germany, the fall, & the denial of the Holocaust. It’s the second most failed course at Belmont University. Our professor required us to go through the text book at least three times, annotating in different colors each time we did. We are deep in the trenches y’all. But none of it matters. I’m just the squeaky liberal wheel of the family who, for the longest time, they came to with questions about politics. Why? Because I was insanely well versed in them. I could tell you who voted which way on what bill, what’s in the bill, who’s up for reelection, etc., etc., etc.. It didn't matter, because it doesn’t match a narrative. So now, as I reach out for help, trying to impress how much I want to leave this country for mine & Evan’s safety, I get shrugged off. The topic gets changed. My understanding, my expertise, all of the red flags, & the fears amount to nothing because it doesn't support the narrative.

I have friends who I no longer speak with, because I can’t. How can I be friends with someone who is in favor of any of this? From a moral perspective, how? You & I are not aligned as human beings on what a basic human right is & I no longer wish to extend the privilege of my friendship to you because you can’t even do the bare minimum of extending the courtesy of a vote to me. Why would I want you to be a part of my life?

So yes, I’m angry. & I know this is a bit of me airing my dirty laundry on the internet but I can’t keep going on pretending like everything, myself included, is okay. I am exhausted: physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually exhausted, because how could I not be? It doesn’t help either that I have to be the one of Evan & I to consistently keep the foot on the gas of us getting our life in order to move when all he wants to do is slam on the brakes. I know it’s out of fear, because it is scary. How do you leave behind everything & everyone you’ve ever known? I get it. Trust me, I’m scared too (see paragraphs about anxiety above). But if no one does anything than nothing gets done & we end up stuck in a place that wants to see us dead. Every survival coded cell in my body is screaming at me to run & instead I sit here renovating my office or doing dishes.

I’m sorry about this post. I really am. I’m sorry because it’s a lot & it’s very personal & it’s not bright & shiny & hopeful. I’m sure this post is going to offend some people, in fact I guarantee it & I’m sure I’ll be fighting the fires I’ve started here all week long but I’m so tired. I’m so tired of pretending I’m okay to the outside world, or that this is a normal way to behave towards the people you profess to love. I’m tired of all the rug sweeping & the playing nice just to save face when inside I feel like I’m literally being ripped apart. I am hurt & maybe this is me lashing out, but I can’t begin to heal if I keep trying to ignore the wound that is festering within me.

Genuinely wishing authentic, nonjudgemental, thoughtful love to you all,

-C

Blog/Object Writing: Grief

If you noticed I did not post an outright “Object Writing” post on here on Wednesday, that is because I did a five day series on grief. I was given the grief prompt by a dancer our of University in Canada who asked if I would do an object writing page for her final dance project using the five stages of grief. Naturally I agreed & was delighted, this is that assignment! In my initial writing I did my best to make the stages flow naturally into one another, over the last week I had to figure out ways to segment them out into five one minute posts, they are all attached below. So, what I’m going to do is first post the written form then if you feel so inclined, or if you’d rather, you can go through the individual posts & watch/listen to what I did with them. I can’t wait to share the final dance product as well once it’s presented! Enjoy!

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OBJECT WRITING: GRIEF

“This can’t be happening, this can’t be happening, this can’t be happening.” The shock of the news nearly knocks me off my feet as the message the tsunami of information carried echoes endlessly around my brain. I feel faint, detached from the human vessel that tethers my spirit to this earth, adrift in the noise & chaos. My myriad of emotions cause me to question what is real or even possible. Is this? Is it all just a dream, some sick illusion my subconscious has cooked up for some unknown reason or have the unfathomable nightmares of my deepest, darkest dread become reality? At the end of my Rolodex of “no’s” hangs the fixture to which I attach blame. “IF” I am to believe this malicious marquee of misinformation then someone is at fault. Someone or something is the culprit for this misfortune; effect is nothing without cause. My adrenals pump molten rage into my bloodstream, igniting my senses into fiery passion. I am fuming, eyes frantically searching for elucidation & something to pin the focus of my frustration. Then it hits me. It smacks me in the face with the fury of the scorn I’ve irradiated into my atmosphere. What if it’s me? What if it’s my fault? My mind begins to work overtime, clockwork machines come alive & the pressure & steam give way to desperation. I return a call, for the first time since being encumbered by the burden of knowing I reach out to another human being whom I share commonality with. I am insistent, disheartened, “if only I’d done this,” I cry, “if only I’d done that” but my cries are fruitless. What’s done is done. Life has no redo button, it offers no relapse into the undoing of retribution. Maybe an exchange then, something for that which I’ve lost. Maybe the almighty, the cosmos, the powers that be will shine one glint of mercy upon me & offer me a fair trade. Time, money, possessions, health, all are on the line, all viable options for the return. But the universe sits silent, unbothered by the heart-wrenched pleading of a drop in the river, in the grand stream of time. All is silent. The stillness creeps into my being & settles uncomfortably into my bones. The meaning & spirit drains from me like sap oozing softly from a tree into the ground below me. Gravity’s weight is multiplied ten fold & soon the creature comforts that bring me respite begin to do little the fill the void. I am hollow, an empty shell of icy numb hurt as the colors melt inchmeal around me into sickly, sullen shades of grays. It’s pointless, all of it. Pointless. My energy depleted, my hopes scattered, my berth begins to feel more & more like a tomb; a black void of nothingness to which I shall willingly succumb. Little by little I fall further into the pits of my forlorn until, at last, I reach the soft maw of the abyss. Cradled in self pity & affliction I lie there, transfixed by misery until a delicate ember drifts haphazardly into my core. It too rests with me in this eternity, offering a knowing melancholy smile before wrapping me in warmth. The freedom of empathy washed through me & enrobes me in loving light. It does not discount my loss or patronize but instead sits in amiable eloquence carrying me through my despair. It lifts my chin, places a quant reassurance on my forehead, & nudges me affectionately towards tomorrow. “It is time,” it whispers to me. Like a freshly birthed foal I stagger to find my footing; one & then the other. I look up to the mountain that stands proudly aloft before me & I begin the ascent; one foot at a time, one day & then the next. The sun breaks through the morbid gray & for the first time in what feels like an age I am at peace.

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OBJECT WRITING: GRIEF PART ONE: DENIAL

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OBJECT WRITING: GRIEF PART TWO: ANGER

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OBJECT WRITING: GRIEF PART THREE: BARGAINING

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OBJECT WRITING: GRIEF PART FOUR: DEPRESSION

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OBJECT WRITING: GRIEF PART FIVE: ACCEPTANCE

Blog: It’s Okay To Give Up On The Apology You May Never Get

Hi folk!

Interesting topic for this week’s blog, no? I’m sure the title put some people on edge before I’d even began but I felt compelled to write about this, this week. I actually started jotting down ideas for this blog throughout my week as I’ve been reading more introspective literature & doing more personal evaluation all in the name of trying to clear the debris that’s gotten in the way of my creative processes especially when it comes to writing. As I’ve stated before in blogs, specifically those regarding the state of the world or the way people treat other people, I have often found myself dwelling on anger. Not an emotion or a feeling I typically enjoy & usually, despite my sign (Aries), something I maintain fairly well outside of the flashes that occasionally arise in me. I was angry & I couldn’t for the life of me pinpoint what was causing it.

I’ve been doing quite a bit of journaling, answering some difficult questions about myself; the emotions & memories that live inside of me, amongst other things. I was prompted one afternoon to answer the following question:

“Why Are You Angry?”

My first response was “psh, I’m not!” That was a lie. You see, deep down I had this building, nagging rage that I couldn’t explain & really sitting & reflecting upon this question brought me to the realization that I was angry. In fact very much so.

The next prompt was:

“Is there anything you haven’t forgiven yourself or someone else for?”

That’s when it struck me.

You see I’d been dwelling upon this desire, this festering, insistent desire that I knew was farfetched at the best of times & was ultimately bogging me down. I was waiting for an apology that knew I will probably never receive. That’s a hard thing to live with, especially if that person is no longer in your life & even more so if that person is still a constant in your life but nonetheless we all still live with it.

We’re all human, we all make mistakes, we all hurt each other & sometimes we don’t realize the extent to which we’ve done damage to another person. Sometimes we don’t even realize we’ve done anything wrong. And that’s where this gets tough. It’s one thing entirely to ignore the pain you’ve caused someone out of pride or spite, it’s another thing entirely to be completely oblivious to it. But it doesn’t matter.

Let me say that again, it. doesn’t. matter. Bottling hurt helps no one, it benefits no one, the only thing that it does is harm you. Holding onto hurt leaves a piece of you in the past, it holds you back from growth & from realizing your true potential. Sometimes you just have to let it go.

There is peace in that, forgiveness. There is light, unfettered freedom. I’m not saying you have to ignore what someone has done to you, but I am saying that you can give yourself permission to let it go, to let bygones be bygones. I know that sometimes we so desperately just want someone to say “I’m sorry” for them to do the bare minimum & acknowledge what they’ve done but when everything in your gut is telling you that it’s never going to happen what good does it do to hold onto that distain?

I just wanted to come on here tonight & much like Elsa give you permission to let it go. To start a fresh, new day & be at peace. Acknowledge the pain, dissect it, but don’t keep holding onto it. You deserve better than that, you’re worthy of feeling better than that. So just let it go. I know it’s not always that simple but it is. It’s okay to say “thank you for protecting me, for making me feel like I’m deserving of an apology but you’ve surpassed your usefulness in my life & in my mind, but it’s time for me to let it go.”

You’re worthy of being at peace, of feeling light & unrestrained. Love yourself enough to see that.