I Have Some Things to Say

Dear World,
You do not get to define me. I am much more than your limited views of me would suggest. I am not just anything, except for just me.

Because you do not know me, you cannot tell me that I can't have problems because I am a white woman. You cannot tell me that I cannot have problems just because I don't have children to figure out how to feed. Life is hardly ever as simple as outward causes for mental problems.

You cannot tell me that my husband can't potentially have problems because he is a white man. That his weight is where it is simply because he's lazy. That he doesn't care about me intensely because you don't see him doing whatever you think shows his care.

You can't tell me that everyone is hurting and then expect that everyone is fine emotionally. That someone who outwardly has their life together can't be lost inwardly. That depression only affects those whose lives have obvious complications and the rest of us are just weak or lazy or overly emotional.

You can't tell me that depression only attacks when things are bad. That I've never felt fine emotionally when things were at their bleakest from the outside and barely able to semi-function when things were starting to get better because it suddenly attacked with every trick in it's demented book.

You can't tell me that I'm the only one that's happened to.

Stop telling women that if they don't look like this celebrity or that supermodel that they are fat, unhealthy, and worthless. Too many of us take it to heart and it causes more problems. Quit implying that any woman who has any noticeable body fat anywhere is overweight and needs to diet and exercise. Quit implying that every man finds your insane standards of beauty to be the only standards that are acceptable. Quit lying to us all.

Quit acting like who someone loves is more important than that they have someone they love. That only one religion could possibly have the answers to everyone's questions. That just because I go to this church instead of that one that I am going to Hell because God is so narrowly strict on who he accepts. Quit denying that the Bible says that God wants to save as many people as He can. Quit telling me, without words but with attitudes, that I am going to Hell for any minor wrong and that I've got to be careful to never have a bad day (but apparently judging people based on their sins is okay, despite what the Bible says).

Quit trying to pigeon-hole everyone. Let us all be as free to be ourselves as we want to be. Let us be individuals or a group based on our social understanding and let us label ourselves.

Quit labeling women with negative words when they do things that a man would be praised for. Quit acting like a woman's worth is tied into being perfect at all things at all times while a man's is tied into what he earns. Quit acting like my opinion on anything might be less than my husband's because I am female and he is male.

I think it is time we all grow up and treat each other as we would want to be treated. Let's try that for a while, instead of judging and labeling everyone for convenience.

We are all more than most people see from the brief glimpses we get into each other's lives. Maybe we should try to respect that more.

Love,
M.A. Smith

Exhausted Rambling

I would love to say that things are going swimmingly over here. They are going pretty well, but today has been long and I'm tired and sore and cold (Pennsylvania is cold in February, especially right after a snow storm, spread the news).

Ace got a load today that we drove 20 miles, maybe? Before he got 5 miles from the shipper, we got a call that he needed to head back. But we had to wait, somewhat, for a call from his dispatcher (because the first call was from someone else) and now we've been waiting for over an hour for getting into a door for them to unload the load they just put on the trailer and...

It's nothing big. We're getting paid well for that short trip. But it just made half the day feel pointless and I already had problems with not wanting to get up this morning.

I just want to wake up and not feel tired. That is where I'm at today.

Tomorrow, we get to be up and have the truck moving by about 6 am to make it to our next pick up on time. And I'm feeling like I've not been getting enough sleep for the past month (I really have, but it's been not so great sleep). And it sucks and I'm whining and feeling annoyed about that.

Things are going well. This is a small issue and I'm not getting depressed over it. I'm just ready for the day to be done. Because I think Ace is coming down with my cold/sinus gunk/whatever, which strangle came back when we got to colder weather. And I just need one of us to be okay right now and it doesn't seem like it's going to be me.

I'm just glad I have my blanket to wrap around me and help me feel like something is going... at least not completely pear-shaped. And I'll get to lay down and sleep soon, I know. I'm just ready to be past soon (and to have some heat warming my toes).

Literary Tattoos on the Brain

I've been fascinated with literary tattoos lately. And this is unsurprising, seeing as I am usually reading several books at once and stories with meaning stick with me and if I enjoy (or don't absolutely hate) getting tattoos, I may consider one someday.

I, somewhat recently, read a book about literary tattoos. Mostly it was looking at pictures of tattoos, but still. It was fascinating. Some people explained their tattoos and some people didn't. One woman wrote a story (or was in the process of writing a story) by having words tattooed on people. Some were tattoos that related to writing more than just being about a specific book. Most of the tattoos were quotes.

I'm not sure there has been something that I've read that I want to put permanently on my body. That, however, is not necessarily going to be true forever.

So far, I'm planning on getting "I am stronger than I think" and "It gets better" tattooed on my wrists (possibly in white). As reminders to myself that dark days don't last and I will get through them. Ace and I have talked about getting matching tattoos, and even potentially picked out what we're getting. Of course, if I don't like the process, that will put a damper on the idea.

I've never thought of myself as someone who gets tattoos, and yet I'm considering getting not just one, but three.

Anyway, none of this is set in stone. But I am fascinated by why people choose the tattoos they choose.

And now I think it's past time I went to bed.