Permit me to introduce myself: My name is Rachel... age 48, married (happily, so buzz off creep). I embarrass my parents and I'm a disgrace, a disappointment. My parents hang their heads in shame!
The Embarrassment: Major depression sends me to the psychiatric hospital at times and there is not a damned thing I can do about it. Expect me to write about living with severe, debilitating mental illness. Writing about it might just encourage open dialogue and dissipate stigma. Writing about it will certainly scandalize my parents if they find out I advertised my depression!
The Disgrace: Social Security Disability supports me because of other disabilities. My clothes are thrift-shopped, re-fashioned, and handmade so nobody (either parent) wants to be seen with me in public. I neither made any money working at jobs nor had a real career. Can you understand what my parents must endure?!!?
The Plan: What's the point? I do not plan in a linear fashion. My thinking and my tastes diversify and span the universe. This drives many people (my parents) right up the wall.
The Posts: Expect me to post whatever the Hell I feel like posting. Photos of what I cooked, sewed, or read... photos of my doggie Albert, who turns 12 this April... photos of my finger-wagging, eyebrow-raising parents... You know the deal.
Interpersonal Communication: Please do get in touch! I'm no bully, but I also do not cow-tow to political correctness. Polite consideration is more up my alley. Please do not expect me to be sensitive to your feelings. Oh - and, I lack people skills - according to my parents - so kindly exercise patience.
The Embarrassment: Major depression sends me to the psychiatric hospital at times and there is not a damned thing I can do about it. Expect me to write about living with severe, debilitating mental illness. Writing about it might just encourage open dialogue and dissipate stigma. Writing about it will certainly scandalize my parents if they find out I advertised my depression!
The Disgrace: Social Security Disability supports me because of other disabilities. My clothes are thrift-shopped, re-fashioned, and handmade so nobody (either parent) wants to be seen with me in public. I neither made any money working at jobs nor had a real career. Can you understand what my parents must endure?!!?
The Plan: What's the point? I do not plan in a linear fashion. My thinking and my tastes diversify and span the universe. This drives many people (my parents) right up the wall.
The Posts: Expect me to post whatever the Hell I feel like posting. Photos of what I cooked, sewed, or read... photos of my doggie Albert, who turns 12 this April... photos of my finger-wagging, eyebrow-raising parents... You know the deal.
Interpersonal Communication: Please do get in touch! I'm no bully, but I also do not cow-tow to political correctness. Polite consideration is more up my alley. Please do not expect me to be sensitive to your feelings. Oh - and, I lack people skills - according to my parents - so kindly exercise patience.
Dear Rachel,
ReplyDeleteIt is such a relief to find someone with debilitating mental disorders who, like myself, has the insight to realize that our pain and suffering is merely secondary to the shame and embarrassment we cause our parents. Rather than focusing on our own self- acceptance and well being it is our duty to assuage their grief with constant assurance that in no way should they harbor any underlying guilt or feelings of responsibility for our condition.
I applaude your selflessness, dear Rachel, however I cannot help but wonder if your flower Doc Martens might be adding to your parent's turmoil. It might be in their best interest for you to rethink that choice.
Sincerely,
Jill
Thank you so much for your feedback, you prejudiced, small-minded Doc hater, you!
DeleteNo wonder you suffer from "debilitating mental disorders": You lack aesthetic sensibility, boorish clod.
Enjoy your week,
~Rachel