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Monthly Archives: July 2012

I was thinking about the whole “you can’t joke about rape.” And wondering if that really is for the benefit of victims or just a straight hush up job. I have been molested, a kind of rape and I’ve been very close to a couple people who were violently raped as adults, heard those stories. I think perhaps it might actually be helpful if humor was an acceptable way of expressing the trauma, rather than leveling it an unspeakable thing.

I don’t mean blow it open to all for laughs. I believe in the hurt of rape victims and their right to respect, and the seriousness of the crime.

But the rules seem less “don’t offend” but “don’t talk about it.” I started this post because I used the word “rapist” casually and it made me feel guilty. But it should not be like that. The solution to major problems is not a climate of fear and silence over the problem. It’s got to be open, with all the dignity possible to the victims, but not hushed up.

I’m reminded of an awesome Louis CK bit where he calls out people for saying “the N word” because all it does is plant “nigger” into his brain. True, those six letters are not offensive, what they mean is offensive. Censorship is sometimes good for stopping an offense, but it can also be used to block acknowledging an offense.

Hell, the problems with “rape” and “nigger” aren’t that they’re said too much, their problem is that they are silenced too much. Our sort of political correctness is just sweeping big issues under the proverbial rug for keeping up appearances. Therein maintaing the problem (sexism, racism, etc, etc)

Depression has a weird effect on time. I mean the heavy hitting sort of depression. The really crippling variety. You lose all sense of time of day, what day it is. Just woke up to find it’s 2am, and since I’ve been asleep that means I’m going to have to spend the rest of the night killing time.

But first have to go through the checklist. I am shaved and my hygiene is acceptable. Don’t know why, but in my worst episodes of depression I’m always thinking I’m going to die and how bad it’d be if I was unshaven and unshowered when they find me. My sheets slipped off my matress (how does this keep happening?) but I’ve got no strength to put them back on.

Realized I didn’t eat today, but I also haven’t really burned a calorie.

Don’t want to kill myself, even that just seems like too much work.

And there’s this pain. There’s a commercial that was on TV to sell some useless drug that said “depression hurts.” It really does. People do generally assume that depression is mainly just being sad a lot, but it’s not like that. Literally, every single part of my body hurts.