#(disclaimer i am in HIGH SCHOOL and do not advocate for any actual important education decisions to be made due to my influence) <- ooc

[ask-annie-edison]

HELLO ANNIE oh shit that was in all caps, anyways! what got you into forensics? I wanna change my major soooo bad like you did but im literally in my junior year ALSO youre the epitome of standing on business, love you (ay it back or else!)

Hi there, thank you for the question! I think it was just a curiosity I’ve had in the back of my mind since middle school, but I didn’t think I’d ever get a chance to look into it at all, what with my extensively planned out life. But when I ended up at Greendale, completely out of my element with no foreseeable future… I decided to just have some fun! “Go with the flow”, if you will. It took me a while to work up the confidence to change majors, but ultimately I think it was worth it. I really love forensics, and I think that if you believe it’ll be good for you then you should change too. I really have no idea what it means for you, but choosing to pursue a genuine interest of mine, one that hadn’t been written down on every page slid in front of me since childhood, was one of the best things I’ve ever done for myself.

So, do whatever you feel is best — and I love you too ♡

[ftkrotec]

The Devastation of "M"

Disclaimer:  The statistics that I provide are based on articles and accounts that I have come across over the past five years.  I have not confirmed all of the figures and do not have citations for most of them. Further, I have rounded them off for ease and reference.  However, some simple research through the various organizations that specialize in mental health (i.e. NIMH, NAMI, etc) will confirm that the statistics above are more or less accurate.  Further, as I mentioned in my previous post on similar issues, I do not claim to be an expert or educated in this area. I am just providing my own insight into these issues and provide some personal experiences.  Speaking of these personal experiences, the accounts I reference below are based on my personal observations experiences with individuals, with whom I am intimately familiar (myself included), suffering from some of these conditions.  As to not betray any confidence nor violate anyone’s privacy, I have taken the liberty of altering some information including names and inconsequential facts or details. Since my sample is limited, these accounts are not likely an accurate representation of the millions who suffer from mental health conditions of varying types and severities.  Nevertheless, I know that my experiences are unlikely unique and I intend to share those experiences with the hope that it helps people better understand these conditions and, maybe even, help someone seek out the help that they so desperately need.

Imagine there is an illness, or more accurately a collection of conditions and disorders.  Let’s call it “M.” Imagine that over the next 12 months, one in every five people will suffer symptoms of M.  Imagine that one in four of those suffering have or will develop a substance abuse problem. Imagine 60% of those diagnosed with M are, for one reason or another, unable to get treatment of any kind.  Imagine that teenagers and young adults are not only more susceptible to M, but also more likely to add to M's fatality totals. Imagine that uncontrollable factors like one's sex and race correlate with even lower rates of treatment of M symptoms.  Would you consider that a problem worth our collective attention? Do you think that something should be done about this M? What if I told you that sufferers of M live 30% shorter lives? Well, M is real. The above statistics reflect the prevalence of Mental Health Disorders here in America.

Before discussing anything further, we are in need of definitions.  So, what is "mental health?" According to WHO, mental health is "a state of well-being in which the individual realizes his or her own abilities, can cope with the normal stresses of life, can work productively and fruitfully, and is able to make a contribution to his or her community."  It is important to note that the simple lack or absence of a disorder does not, by itself, mean one has positive mental health. I would also imagine that this is the case for the inverse as well, but that is not relevant to my discussion today.  What is relevant is understanding the importance of mental health. The definition, itself, is like a checklist of the benefits of mental health. Mental health brings an understanding of our own abilities and keeps us rooted in the realities of life.  It allows us to cope with stress, rather than crumbling under its weight. It ensures that we remain productive and fruitful, rather than ineffective and wasteful. It, also, enables our participation and contribution to our own communities. Though not an exhaustive list of benefits, it is easy to see why maintaining mental health is important.

Now that we know what Mental Health is, what is M?  That is, what is a Mental Health Disorder? Well, the simplest definition is any disorder affecting mood, thinking, or behavior.  So, this would include well-known conditions like Depression and Schizophrenia, as well as, more obscure conditions like Apotemnophilia and Capgras Syndrome.  Regardless of the condition, these disorders are quite prevalent. Further, given the low numbers of those who receive treatment for their conditions, it is not unreasonable to assume that there may be unidentified people living with these conditions, suggesting that the true statistics may even be higher than that 20%.  Regardless, even at 20%, the laws of statistics would suggest that, even if you are luckily enough to be in the majority of people without a diagnosable condition, someone close to you is suffering from one, be it family, friend, colleague, teammate, etc. As such, chances are that one or more Mental Health Conditions will affect or have affected each and every one of our lives.

With the definitions out of the way, I can now focus on what led me to write this post.

Recently, I found myself listening to someone talking.  This individual is a first responder and recently had a run in with a pretty gruesome death.  This conversation seemingly triggered an emotional response and she demonstrated the anxiety that I have seen coincide with my previous experiences with PTSD.  I found myself surprised by this. Not because she was likely suffering from a Mental Health Condition, but because of the lack of attention and concern she, and her friends that she was sharing with, had for her symptoms.  As she went on, I was, further, alarmed for the seemingly lack of support provided by her employer, especially considering the trauma that is, for lack of a better word, more commonplace than in other occupations. Playing Devil’s Advocate on behalf of the employer, this lack of support may have been due to her refusal to request or avail herself to services and options that the employer does have in place.  Nevertheless, it appeared to me she was not seeking and had not received any help with her apparent PTSD. As a third party to this conversation, I did not probe or inquire further. Perhaps I should have, but then again, was it my place to hijack her attempts to share her experiences with her loved ones? I don’t know. But, I did not.

That experience led me to ask some questions to myself  not only about my own Mental Health but also how we, as a society, handle Mental Health Issues.  It also led me to seek out answers concerning Mental Health, answers to questions that I could not answer myself.  Further, it motivated me to compose this post and to share some personal experiences of my own struggles with and my experiences in witnessing others struggle with some Mental Health Conditions.  As I mentioned above in the disclaimer, I am not an expert on this and my experiences are admittedly limited. However, my hope is that my words lead someone or perhaps several someones to ask themselves questions and seek answers about Mental Health, much like the first responder’s story did for me.

My first real experiences with Mental Health Conditions came in High School. Unaware at the time, I had a classmate, well probably more than just one, who was desperately struggling with Depression.  I can look back now and see the evidence was clear as day. The withdrawal from her friends and other relationships and sudden and drastic shift in his attitude and interests should have been glaring signs to her friends, family, teachers, and even classmates, like myself.  However, I am sure, much like myself, most if not all of them rationalized these signs as something else, like a it being “just a phase,” or just did not know any better and, therefore, did not notice these signs. If her life were a Hollywood movie, something would have happened, which we would have taught us all a valuable lesson about Mental Health and she would get the help she needed with the help of her friends and family.  However, that is not what happened. Though she, unlike many others with similar struggles, found a way through her struggles, eventually sought out the help she needed, and, now years later, she appears to be living a much healthier life, I cannot help but wonder how different her life could have been if she got the help she clearly needed back in high school. Nevertheless, that experience helped me understand the importance of being aware of the signs and how seeking help can improve one’s life.

Several years later, I got a much closer look at how Depression can affect someone.  A close friend of mine had a hard time coping with the effects of Depression. His depression led him to struggle with self-harm and thoughts of suicide.  Unlike my previous experience, my proximity to him and his struggles were very enlightening. Further, it taught me many things about Depression and how to deal with it as a friend and loved one of the one struggling with it.  Of the many things I learned, the hardest for me was taking care of myself. Seeing his struggles, I could not help, but do everything I could to help him. However, this just led me to neglecting my own needs and my own life. I found myself so concerned with “abandoning” him, that my school life and work life began to suffer.  Not only was this obviously unhealthy and bad for me, but also I found myself doing more harm than good to his Mental Health. I learned that I was actually adding to his anxiety as he began to notice my issues and to blame himself for them. Further, as my neglect of my needs worsened, my ability to be supportive of him also worsened, as my patience and willingness to listen to his problems and concerns began to run out.  So, I had to find a balance in how I was living my life, in order to be the friend that he needed. Looking back, it still surprises me how much easier things got once I found that balance.

Not long after that experience, I had my first encounter with someone’s struggles with PTSD.  I had a close friend who was quite a bit older than me and chose to enlist in the military. In all honesty, he was likely driven more by a sense of rebellion than a sense of civic duty to do so, but he took the opportunity head on.  His experience in the military was mostly good. He had a few bad experiences due to some toxic masculinity, but overall he enjoyed his experience and made the most of it. I had always seen him as emotionally strong and he was always there for me growing up.  So much so, I idolized him for his strength and will. However, having will-power and strength does not make you immune to a Mental Health Condition. During one of his deployments, his unit was attacked and he lost several friends. This experience weighed on him.  To this day, he still struggles with PTSD stemming from the deployment. I have also learned that there he suffered a history of depression and battled eating disorders, not to mentioned survived sexual abuse, all ocurring before he enlisted that I never knew about. All of these things came to a head in the years following that deployment.  Living miles away in another state and without the connection we once had, I watched him, fueled by a desire to escape and forget, turn to drugs and alcohol. However, as many of us know, substance abuse is not a solution and it just developed into another problem, another struggle, addiction. To witness someone I admire so much and thought to be invincible, falling to such a low was a very scary and humbling experience for me.  It was a strong dose of reality for me, learning two things. One, we all wear masks and, to a certain extent, hide our feelings. Just because someone looks fine and healthy, there is no telling the demons and the struggles lying just below the surface. And second, we are all human and Mental Health is important for each and every one of us. As such, we can all find ourselves struggling with something sometimes.

This leads me to speak with my own issues and my experiences with Depression.  Several years ago, I found myself struggling with Depression. In all reality, I may have been dealing with it for longer, but it was then when it became apparent to me.  From my previous exposure to Depression, I knew its symptoms. However, I quickly found that, like many things in life, knowing something is not the same as experiencing it.  For me, I first noticed the lack of energy. I have never been what one might call “active” or even “energetic.” In fact, I was always a bit lazy and would often actively avoid activity.  However, this was a lot more than that. It wasn’t that I did not want to do something, it was more of an inability or a distinct lack of impetus to do even small and simple tasks. There would be days that I would just literally lay in bed all day, missing school and/or work.  Hell, I would not get up to eat or drink, or even use the bathroom.

Seemingly paired with the energy symptoms was the sleep disturbances.  As anyone who has suffered a disruption to their sleep cycle or has a sleep disorder can attest, the seemingly contradictory mix of inability to fall asleep and oversleeping will interfere with everything in your life.  The hours of sleeplessness from the insomnia leaves you tired and less responsive, inherently affecting your performance at work and school. Meanwhile the intermittent oversleeping obviously interferes with your timeliness and attendance at work, school, and even social activities.  Further, they also combine to frustrate your day-to-day activities and schedules. For example, my eating habits had to drastically shift, while experiencing these symptoms, from sleeping through meals and having a “fourth” mealtime because I was awake for an additional 6 or 7 hours.

Soon after this and probably coupled with the frustrations of those symptoms, I started developing the more apparent emotional symptoms.  I started to find myself irritable and tense, which inevitably led to frustratingly angry outbursts over meaningless things and, even, more restlessness exacerbating the sleep issues I was already  having. Further, the sadness and the lows also became apparent. For those you haven’t suffered from the lows associated with Depression and other similar conditions, it can be difficult to understand this sadness.  It's more than just feeling down or unhappy. It carries with it an existential feeling of dread and despair. It isn’t something that requires some “cheering up” or can be overcome with simple laughter. The feeling is deeper and almost sourceless.  As you sink into this fathomless darkness, it isn't that you cannot see a way back to the light, it is that there isn’t one. This dread much like the other symptoms quickly leads to more symptoms.

As I felt lost in this abyss, I quickly found myself losing interest and pleasure in the things I most enjoyed.  For those of you who do not know me, I am a cinephile, a lover of films and the theater experience. During episodes of Depression, I lost any desire to watch films, even the films that I love to watch over and over again lost their appeal.  I am also an avid gamer, but even those mildly addictive escapes from reality had no pull on my interest. Even when doing these hobbies, I would find myself distracted and just going through the motions. My favorite things provide me with no comfort or release.  Even my social interactions would suffer. Being distracted and not engaged when socializing with friends and even losing any interest or enjoyment of our more basic desires and needs.

Last but certainly not least for me, came the feelings of worthlessness or guilt.  I found myself stuck in my own head fixating on my failures and finding ways to blame myself for anything and everything.  These feelings just lead to even less enjoyment of activities, more despair, more sleep issues, and less energy. All of these things just compound and build upon you until you start to kind of feel numb.  Nothing really matters or means anything anymore, a feeling of pure apathy, which, at least for me, leads to a desire to feel anything. Joy, sadness, and even pain. It is here where things feel the most hopeless.  Even though it is here where I witness others turn to substance abuse, self-harm, and other destructive habits, I have found that this is often the stage where I find myself the most safe. Here at the bottom of the abyss, I know things cannot get much worse.  Though I know many never find their way out of this abyss, I find that hitting this bottom serves as a bit of a trigger forcing me to go the only way I can go back up.

The happiness and euphoria of feeling again and beginning to enjoy activities again begins to feel you with seemingly endless hope.  However, this hope is a honey trap. For as many times I have ridden this wave to restore myself to a healthy and positive Mental Health statutes, I have just as many times slipped and fallen down the slide back to the abyss.  It is at this stage that things I feel are the most dangerous. Because when I slip back into the abyss, I find myself pondering two things. These two things occupy my mind for virtually every waking moment. Those two things are:  Was this fall always inevitable? and What was the point of making the climb?  When at the top, it is easy to say “No” and find a reason for the climb.  But when that despair and hopelessness returns, my mind’s answers to those questions quickly become “Yes” and  “There isn’t one.” It is then when I feel completely subsumed by the deepest and darkest darkness.

Because I am both very introverted and very introspective, I often seek out answers on my own.  “Seeking out others is uncomfortable and I know no one knows me like I do, so why would I share my questions and thoughts.  Besides, others have their own stuff to deal with.” It is this internal dialog that often keeps me from reaching out and speaking about my feelings.  Also, growing up as a male in 1990’s America certainly didn’t dissuade this kind of thinking. Hell, I struggle admitting to myself that there might be a problem.  However, I have learned that this darkness can become very overwhelming very quickly, as there is no outlet or venting of these feelings if you refuse to seek help.

Much like I learned when trying to help my friend with his Depression, I learned that I need to take steps to take care of myself.  For me and for many, the first step to taking care of yourself is to ask for help. Finding someone who will listen and be supportive of me during my slides, while at the bottom, and especially during the climb.  However, I know that I cannot stop there. Even at the top, I must take steps, continue to work on being healthy, and being willing to seek help. For me, even though I am currently in a healthy state, I know that Depression and the threat of the abyss will always be something I struggle with.  The struggle in remembering that “maybe the fall was inevitable.” However, when I do, I know I need to find a way to remind myself or, better yet, find someone who will help remind me that there is always a point to making the climb, you just have to find it. At least, that is the way I see it.

P.S.  I know that it is my hubris to think that anybody reads my posts.  Nevertheless, if you have read this and you are experiencing any of this, or, perhaps, you find yourself on the slide, in the abyss, or on the climb, please talk to somebody, you do not have to do it alone.  There are so many resources available for those willing to look for them. If you need help finding one, PM me and I will help you find one. I know it can feel like there is nobody willing to listen or nobody who cares, but I assure you that there is and they do.  I am one of them.

[sweetsuccesssociety]

Why We March

Today, all across the globe (literally, the GLOBE, so crazy!) over a million women, men, children, and just generally awesome people marched together to deliver a peaceful, impactful, and empowering message. The photos of the seas of hot pink pussy cat hats and creative signage are enough to get you inspired, but the feeling on the ground was electric. This was a shining example of why I truly believe that together, we can accomplish anything.

Boom.

Deciding to head down to the Women’s March today made me sit back a little and think about exactly why I wanted to be a part of this. Besides the obvious reasons – you know – equal pay, a woman’s right to her body, not standing for misogyny – the usual, I had some deep personal reasons fire me up to be a participant in this movement. Disclaimer: this post is going to veer off from the usual course and get into some pretty serious stuff that some people may find uncomfortable. I always try to be real with you guys, but this subject matter might be troubling/triggering to some – just an FYI…it’s about to get real real, y’all.

I was raised a feminist by open minded, educated, feminist parents who encouraged me to be a strong, confident, respectful woman. I was fortunate enough to be told that my voice matters, and that all human beings deserve equal human rights. Something weird happened to my sense of self in high school. Before that, I had been fearless, confident, and secure in myself and my beliefs. I allowed myself to lose my sense of self respect and self confidence, which played into a series of experiences that caused me a lot of pain, but also interestingly enough shaped the passion and purpose that drives me today.

Let me just say this: no matter what kind of state a woman is in, broken or strong or something in between, she is to be respected and it needs to be understood that no means freaking no. Looking back on many of my experiences with the opposite sex, I see how rampant misogyny and misinformation can be even with generally good humans. I also see how uninformed and confused many young women are about their value, boundaries, and fundamental rights. I know I was. I lost my virginity before I was truly ready, because I thought it made me more valuable. The beginning of my distorted sense of my own sexuality and authority over my own body began with believing that sex was what defined my value, but it expanded from there with a series of events in which ‘no’ apparently did not mean ‘HELL NO”. Before I reached 21, I was sexually assaulted. Twice. I guarantee that is not as unusual as you probably think it is. The first time was the second time I had sex, ever. I was very young, very tipsy, and very alone with someone I barely knew who I felt safe with because he was charismatic, soft spoken, and in college. Looking back, he wore a fucking fedora literally at all times, which seems like a pretty solid red flag. I’m talking even when swimming. But maybe that was cool in 2004? I specifically remember going very quickly from feeling comfortable and happy to totally freaked out. Despite the amount that I had to drink, I clearly remember saying ‘no’ firmly and repeatedly, and physically trying to pull his hands off me, even using not being on birth control and not having a condom as a bargaining chip to get him to leave me alone. He was not violent, and it honestly didn’t dawn on me that this was sexual assault because of that; he was complimenting me and telling me nice things while touching me without my permission, it didn’t feel like what I envisioned sexual assault being like. But it was, because in the end, he didn’t take no for an answer and what happened was non-consensual. The next week, I went to Planned Parenthood to get birth control and my first pap smear so I could feel more in control, but I didn’t tell anyone about what had happened until confiding in a boyfriend years later. I was afraid that I either wouldn’t be believed, or that it would be pinned on me for being drunk and putting myself in a bad situation. Honestly? Sad as it is, it probably would have. In my heart, I knew it was not okay, but I made it out to be something that didn’t bother me. News flash: being coerced into unwanted sexual activity by a twenty-two year old Kevin Federline wannabe when you’re 16 years old, in reality, a bit troubling.

The following year on a spring break trip, what began as a fun makeout session in a car outside of a party (weird, but teenagers, man) was quickly heading towards something more – even when I said specifically that I didn’t want to have sex, he pulled my skirt off, slapped on protection – always remember safety when you’re feeling rape-y!, and literally picked me up and put me on top of him. He groped my neck and breasts so aggressively (which hurt like a bitch) that I had bruises so dark I couldn’t wear a swimsuit for the rest of the trip. Yes, I could have fought him off or screamed for my friends or tried to get out of the car, but that is not always how it works. When someone doesn’t listen when you say no or makes you feel bad about yourself for denying sex, it’s often tough to take yourself out of the situation. Just because sexual assault is not a violent attack does not make it okay. Manipulation and coercion may not be outright rape, but they are not acceptable. I pretended to my friends that it had been all in fun, and we even joked about the massive black and blue handprints on my chest. Since everyone thought he was so charming and good looking (he was gorgeous, just kind of a misogynistic dickwad), I didn’t want to sound like I was complaining for getting attention from a hot guy.

Later in life, I dated many truly wonderful men (and a few not so wonderful, but that’s life). I also had a few casual hookups as an adult that I entered into confidently and with full consent, and those felt great. Don’t get me wrong – I love sex, but you know, I prefer to consent to it…call me crazy. I also continued to experience something that didn’t seem that weird to me at the time but is so weird: being pressured to have sex after clearly saying ‘no’. I had a guy I went home with after a party actually yell at me for being a ‘tease’ and I quote: “wasting his time”, when I refused to do anything more than kiss him. When I finally met the wonderful man who is now my husband, I hadn’t had sex in almost a year. I seriously believed that in order to respect myself and attract a quality guy, I had to completely swear off sex. I didn’t realize that I should have been able to say yes to sex when I wanted it, and no when I didn’t – and that my answer should be taken as firm and final. I didn’t realize that I was powerful, valuable, and allowed to be a sexual being without being taken advantage of. I didn’t realize that I was more than I gave myself credit for. This is a problem at the core of how women view themselves, and how men view women.

Listen – the me of today would have yelled a big ol’ “HELL NO” to those men that took my initial ‘no’ for a ‘maybe’, but the me of today is a different woman. The me of today is a feminist that doesn’t stand for any fuckery when it comes to fundamental human rights and I am not afraid of making a scene or raising my voice. However, that was not the case when I was younger – which is why I’m hell bent on empowering women from an early age and providing them with education, information, unwavering confidence, and a world wide support system.

I didn’t share my story for sympathy or to dwell in the past; I’m not whining or blaming anyone else. I’ve had a great life and great relationships. I think men are great, and I think women are strong. I’m happily married to a man that declares himself a proud feminist; I still love sex, I don’t hate men, and I’m not damaged – I’m actually more confident and courageous than I ever knew I could be. However I do think that as young women – and young men – we’re not empowered, informed, or supported the way that we should be. I think that misogyny is normalized, and consent is often overlooked. I think women are taught that sexuality is either a useful tool or something shameful, instead of something that should be used for mutual pleasure and under mutual consent. I think that men making decisions on women’s reproductive rights is wrong, and that placing any blame on sexual assault victims is unforgivable – I don’t care how short your skirt is or how sloppy drunk you are; the word NO means specifically that, and literally NO ONE is ever, ever asking to be raped. I think that “keep your legs closed” and “cover up” need to be taken out of our vocabulary – there is nothing wrong with choosing to express your sexuality when it comes from an empowered and confident place and it shouldn’t make you a target. I believe that misinformation when it comes to women’s rights, to rape culture, and to what the f**k Planned Parenthood actually does (hint: provide important healthcare and information for both pro-choice and pro-life women and men) is way too high for 2017. When it comes down to it, I’m actually in a weird way glad for the experiences that I’ve had, because it fuels me to be an advocate for young women. That’s why this is personal to me, and that’s why I march.

I march to help create a world where women choose what happens to their bodies and are respected.

I march to remind people that consent is not something to be argued.

I march to empower women to feel strong, equal, powerful, and valued.

I march to foster collaboration – not competition – amongst women.

I march to end ‘slut-shaming’, body shaming, and victim shaming – and let women feel ownership of their sexuality.

I march to stand up against the normalization of any ‘locker room talk’ that includes joking about sexual assault.

I march for organizations like Planned Parenthood that provide guidance, education, and vital healthcare to women (and men). This has nothing to do with abortion: Planned Parenthood allows access to crucial reproductive healthcare, birth control, counseling, and pre-natal care to many people who need it.

I march to make sure that the next generation grows up to know that they are important and valuable, and that they are wholly in charge of their bodies and what they do with them.

I march to show the world that we as women are many things. We can be sexy, assertive, proud, silly, sweet, kind, driven, talented, capable, maternal, independent, vulnerable, open….we can be so many things. But I march to get rid of the perception that women are bossy, abrasive, less-than, nasty (unless you’re embracing it, Janet Jackson style), bitchy, whiny, pathetic, less deserving, man hating, slutty, or anything less than the wonderful things that we are.

I march as a wife, a daughter, a future parent, an advocate, a lover of men, a proud feminist, a hopeful optimist, and as a human being.

Why do YOU march?

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