Tag Archive | Grief

Mass Shootings and Society

Feb16

The shooter wasn’t mentally ill in Florida. florida-shooting-new-gallery1

He was pure rage, uncontrolled.

His primary rage appears directed at his ex-girlfriend, who dumped him. He jumped her new boyfriend and assaulted him which is how he got expelled.

He also had rage against Jewish people who make up almost half the students in that district, a rage fueled by white supremacist groups that are known to be anti-Semitic.

He was not mentally ill. He was angry, to the point of rage. We need to stop confusing rage with mental illness.

We already recognize unbridled rage as bad. We have religions, many of them, that admonish about controlling one’s temper, about the evils of letting rage and emotion control your actions.

Society already knows this is bad. But in a pseudo-scientific way, to make it try to sound scientific, we want to label something that is not mental illness as mental illness, because we do not want to take responsibility for it!

If it’s mental illness, it’s not society’s (white people’s) fault that young white males do this.

Here’s news for 21st century America – yeah, it IS your fault. Part of this is the outgrowth of 400+ years obsession with warfare, violence, misogyny, conquest, and genocide. Part of this is the outgrowth of a few thousand years of patriarchal male dominated ownership of women as sex objects.

But white supremacist patriarchal society does not want to take responsibility for the fruits of 400+ years of colonialism, patriarchy, genocide, and obsession with conquest and warfare. That is the United States, in a nutshell.

To be responsible for those things means society could change those things, might even need to change those things, but if they can instead blame a factor beyond society’s control, then society doesn’t have to change, does it?

But, by laying the problem at the feet of mental illness, white, male controlled society washes its hands of the problem, and then pretends it can go on being patriarchal, genocidal, misogynistic, and obsessed with conquest and warfare.

If these are the fruits of society’s CHOICES, then society could change and alter those fruits. By pushing it off on mental illness, society is trying to pretend that what happens is no one’s fault.

That is what you are seeing happen around you right now.

An Unexpected But Perfect Gift

Jan6

Two years ago in December, my mother passed away unexpectedly. She was in her late 70s but had COPD issues due to a lifetime of heavy smoking but otherwise members of our family tend to live well into our 80s and 90s. So mom’s passing was unexpected and I can honestly say that even at my age, I miss her greatly every single day.

Mom never had much. Abandoned by my father when we were still small children, plus health issues she had mid-life made life tough on our family but Mom kept us together. She raised us, loved us, and was thrilled as each of us grew to adulthood. But for herself she never had a lot. One thing she did have was free and clear ownership of her home from her early 50s onward.

It was a small home in a small town in eastern Ohio. It wasn’t worth a lot. She had little savings. Plus it took us two years to sell that house. Because of her financial situation, my guess at the value of the house, legal fees, funeral expenses, house maintenance while we waited for it to sell, etc., I didn’t expect to get much from my mother’s estate.

Anything would have helped, of course, but I expected a few thousand dollars total.

Before I go further, I’ve budgeted out about $15,000 for my trip to Thailand for my gender confirmation surgery. I’ve waited a lifetime for this and could wait a few more years as I saved the money.

So imagine my surprise when I was informed that I and my siblings would each be receiving approximately $16000 as our last gift from mom.

I’m sitting here with tears in my eyes today, looking heavenward, and repeating “Thank you, mom”. For even in death, her last gift to me turned out to be perfect.

As Christmas 2014 Comes then Goes

Dec24

sepia-selfieThis doesn’t really get any easier at this time of year. This will be my third Christmas isolated from family, from children and grandchildren. You learn to take a deep breath, gently set it behind you, and try to move on. You focus on your friends, some of whom are very dear and very kind, and some of whom have ensured that you won’t be alone for Christmas day. And yet… your own children remain firmly fixed in your mind, even as you don’t exist in theirs.

Ultimately, things like this are why I will likely leave Texas once I have completed some key milestones in the medical side of my transition. If I’m a thousand miles away, it becomes easier to not dwell on the exclusion.

I have a few errands to run today, small things yet they need done. I will think about my siblings back in Ohio, and hope they and their families are having a happy holiday season. I will consider my friends all around the nation and hope they can find happiness and cheer in this time of year as well. And then this evening, I will make a quiet dinner and try not to think on my family gathered just a few miles away, celebrating, opening gifts, and enjoying one another’s company.

I read a heartfelt and thought-provoking piece about what trans people experience at this time of year titled Transition Is Not Death. There are powerful words on that page, words that claw at hearts broken and alone for no other reason than they had to face themselves honestly finally. A trans child (or parent) is struggling to reach for life, not death; to be themselves with those whom they loved first and foremost. And yet the very reason to transition, to reach for life for the sake of those they love then frequently becomes the basis for those same people to reject the trans individual.

It’s heartbreaking when I see it happen to others. For me personally there’s nothing left to break anymore so I struggle to continue reassembling a shattered life, especially at this time of year. This year it no longer hurts; it’s just empty. So I focus on those who are trying to fill it for me – Julie, Elizabeth, Fran, Kate, Jennifer and all my internet friends. To each of you I say thank you for helping me rebuild my reasons to love this season. It’s an effort that is still underway, but you have each helped me in various ways.

So as yet another Christmas day comes then passes, I realize that Christmas is my personal Yule, the longest, darkest day of my year. And that once it is past, the light will begin to grow again. In realizing this, I know that I have those around me who care, even as I let go of those for whom I once cared.

Happy holidays everyone. Sometimes finding joy in this season can be difficult but if we search, we can find it, even if it’s not where we hoped or expected. I hope each of you can find your own joy this Christmas, and that you can continue to let go of the pains that others choose to inflict. May your new year bring you each joy, strength, growth, wisdom, and the love of those around you.

Letting Go

Dec10

Letting go. It seems I’ve been doing that a lot lately. Letting go of my children, some of whom don’t even want to know me anymore. Letting go of my mother, who died a year ago but whose passing seems as fresh as yesterday. Letting go of the illusions that I wove around myself to fit into the expectations of society.

But one thing I’ve not been able to let go of is my desire to see my grandchildren. Even as that is denied, I continue to hope and pray that the situation will eventually change. Yet even as I hope and pray, I know that I should not expect it in the least, that the likelihood is utterly small, and that I should never expect to see those children ever again.

Perhaps that is what makes this so hard. I had no choice but to let go of mom. Her death took her from us. But then there are my grandchildren. I probably focus on them far too much. I probably think about them more than I should. Little Emma is growing up. Kaiti is becoming a young woman. And I’ve been severed from them both, for no rational or medical reason.

I’m learning to let go, at least of some things. And I’ll keep moving forward with my life. But there are also some things which, for better or worse, I don’t intend to let go of ever.

December Memories

Dec9

A year ago tomorrow, my mother died. It was sudden, unnecessary, and shouldn’t have happened. It was a shock. She’d been ill from a botched colonoscopy back in late September but seemed to be recovering, but a year ago tomorrow she went to her regular doctor’s appointment, closed her eyes “for just a minute” and never opened them again.

I mourned my mother last year but I find myself mourning her again this year. Tears come unbidden at the most unexpected times. The wrong song, the wrong moment… and given how my children have isolated themselves from me, that just exacerbates things. It’s hard to find joy in the holiday season like this.

I miss you, Mom. There’s not much more to say than just that. I miss you.