I am a graduate of USF with a degree in English Education. I worked in the food industry, office, and as a teacher. I'm now disabled and on a fixed income.
The year was 2023, and the pandemic of Corona Virus was over. Most people had received the vaccine and after time and tests and trials the world returned to a place where people did not have to wear masks again. It was then, that Mrs. Brown decided to venture out again and socialize. Ever since the mask mandate she had stayed at home. She wasn't scared of death, nor was she opposed to wearing the mask, but she had a severe case of Asthma and the mask was extremely uncomfortable for someone like her. So she had stayed home during the whole pandemic, and it was a new adventure now that it was over, now that she could venture out comfortably.
Logically speaking I can not blame one person for hard times in my life. I've been through very hard times in my 49 years of existence in America. Surviving September 11, 2001 was no picnic. Surviving Hurricane Katrina in 2005 was also not easy. Yet there has been no worse time period in my life than this four year span (2017-2020) while Trump has been President. Logically, I can't say it's his fault, but it sure is a weird coincidence.
Some people say rape is rape, it's all the same, but I disagree. Just like Dante says there are various layers of hell, there are different kinds of rape. A male raping a male isn't the same as a male raping a female. A female raping a female isn't the same as a male raping a female. Finally, there is a difference between rape and date rape and I'd like to describe that to you. I want to talk about this topic not just because I was a fan of the show "13 Reasons" where the theme of rape is covered heavily and one of the reasons why one of the main character's commits suicide; I want to cover this topic because I feel that I've been victimized by it and I'm a survivor, and not only is writing about it cathartic, it may help some people who have not been raped and who may benefit by knowing what it's like and how to avoid it.
Yesterday I watched a film that I had heard about and have been wanting to see for quite some time. I, Tonya which is labeled as a comedy, but if it's funny, I would call it dark humor. I didn't think it was funny at all. I thought it was very tragic. There are many videos you can watch on youtube that show the comparisons of the actors portrayals of the characters to the real people they were playing. I watched some of that before I watched the movie to prepare myself for any hoopla that the director might have wanted to do to the audience using sensationalist tricks. I remembered the story of Tonya Harding and Nancy Kerrigan back when I was just starting college in the early 90s. I always loved to watch gymnastics and figure skating in the Olympic games. My good friend at the time was a huge Kerrigan fan, so we were watching the skaters. When Kerrigan got hit, it was huge news for weeks. I was left thinking that Tonya Harding and her clan must have been monsters. After watching the movie, I see that I was almost correct. Her clan were completely monsters, but Tonya was a victim of abuse from family and a victim of the "system" (just like me) being made to believe that she had a fair shot coming from "poor white trash" - when the truth is she was doomed from birth.
I'm getting older and a bit nervous about turning the big 50 in April of this year. If you had met me just 5 years ago, you would have seen an arrogant woman who thought she was wise, yet was blind to the abundance and wealth that I had, and ungrateful for the many blessings I was surrounded by. It changed in 2018 when I lost everyone and everything that was dear to me. In the past two years, I had to revisit being homeless. I traveled to many places trying to find a home, lived in a van, lived in the woods, stayed at overpriced hotels and cheap slimy motels, and couched it wherever a friend or family member would allow me to. I had nothing but time on my hands with no job and no car, so I did a lot of thinking about myself, the world, money, life, and of course death. I had moments of joy, moments of sheer depression, moments of anger regarding how unfair life seems sometimes, and moments of pure gratitude for the kindness and generosity of some people.
When I was a little girl, a virgin, raised by my mother and my grandmother, both Catholics trying to teach me about Jesus, I was not horny meaning I never masturbated. I wanted hugs and kisses and attention, but my little body did not have or experience the kind of desire that drives adults into sexual relations. The first sexual feeling I had came around the age of 9. I was playing with my friend Magda and we were acting like we were adults and taking turns playing the "man" and/or the "woman" and creating scenes that led to the bedroom. I felt some sexual stirrings in my body and it scared me. I didn't understand it and I wanted it to go away. I was too young, too small, and my mother and my grandmother would think I was possessed by the devil if I tried to tell them what my body was feeling. So I ignored it and carried on.
I am a fan of Leonardo DiCaprio and I've seen many films he has starred in. I don't care what they say about his talent or credits, I enjoy viewing the work he does. There are many roles he has taken on and some were praised and some were not. Two films that were not as acclaimed stuck in my mind and I was thinking how different these two films are: Shutter Island and Inception. Both films dig deep into the mind and perception of "reality" offering the film viewer various philosophies and strategies for coping with other people's viewpoints and ever-changing realities.
There are so many reasons each day to feel badly, not including physical ailments. As someone who has been contending with Bipolar Disorder for the past 18 years, I feel I am pretty experienced when it comes to dealing with emotions and emotional breakdowns. It's a strange phenomena and it happens to everyone, even if you are not diagnosed with a mental illness. It could be a perfectly good day, sun shining, bills paid, no problems confronting you, yet you feel awful and you don't know why. You have a voice in your head telling you that you're not good enough or that something you usually love about yourself is invalid. This is when women start whining and saying "I'm too fat," or "I'm too stupid," or "I'm too whatever," and they feed their depression because they have lost the will to battle. They just want to surrender and relax. They don't want to win anymore. It's not just women, it happens with men too, but stereotypically women are better at expressing their emotions than men.