We are not engaging in a Liberal-lynching.
I'm not about to rail against a politician whose policies and actions I don't know (I haven't ever really paid attention to politics)
What I am talking about is how much I fucking hate this shiny, all-new, bright, exciting modern age of social media and having your shoes synched to your phone, which is synched to your laptop, which is synched to your tablet(s) and your MP3 player and your car, which is also synched to your MP3 player and your phone, and it's all linked to the Cloud, and everyone can see the great family tree of your electronics... And thereby see all of your schoolwork, your job, your occupation, your home, your family, your bills, your car, etc. etc. etc.
I've been annoyed at the way our world views news- excuse me: the "news"- and responds to it.
"What difference does it make?"
Secretary of State Hillary Clinton was in a hearing to discuss the failure to warn of, safeguard against, or tell the truth about, the Ben Ghazi incident. She *did* give that quote; however, the Conservative side of the media and the Internet has turned it into a meme by MISQUOTING the Secretary of State.
Yes, this does sound much like she's saying that the incident isn't that big a deal, that it makes no difference why someone perpetrated an attack which killed four Americans. However, that's NOT the truth. The FULL quote is as follows:
""What difference, at this point, does it make?
It is our *job* to figure out what happened, and do everything we can to
prevent it from ever happening again, Senator."
She didn't just say, "Yeah, what difference does it make what happened? Fuck it; it doesn't matter."
What she did was ask the question, "What difference does it make?" in order to then answer her own question by saying that it is the United States' Government's JOB to figure out what happened. Just like if you're explaining a concept to someone, you might say, "Why do we wear helmets in football? So that we don't have massive head injuries every play!" (just pulled that example out of thin fucking air- *very* thin air, clearly)
It's frustrating that people are taking the misquote (lying by omission is still a LIE, so this is a misquote) as Gospel truth and railing against the Secretary, but as I said I don't know much about Secretary Clinton. No; it infuriates me because it's indicative of something which has infuriated me more and more with every passing day, and has been reaching critical mass of anger lately:
People don't think.
1) People see this quote, "What difference does it make?" and they take it and run. Instantly, without pausing to think about it- let alone research it and see if there was more said around that clipped quote- they post angry comments. I've literally seen comments saying they hope that "that slut" dies soon; men and women calling her every foul name; "she should quit now, but while she's at it take her boss down first!" NONE of these people understand what they're talking about; Conservative media doesn't like Hillary Clinton, so they took only that part of the quote and went into outraged rants.
Yes, with just that bit of the quote, I can see how it's inflammatory. If that had really been what the Secretary was saying, I would be furious as well. However, IT WASN'T. They completely omitted two thirds of the quote- and the rest of the quote shows, quite clearly, that she wasn't dismissing the investigation as unimportant. But no, these people are Conservative, and they've seen what their Conservative reporters and politicians *want* them to see, and that's what they run with.
Then, speak a single word in defense- not in defense of the woman, but in defense of common sense, and combating the extreme ignorance displayed here- and you'll be dissed and smeared and discarded and insulted and patronized; they'll say that it's so sad you believe everything the Liberal Media brainwashes us with. They think that they're the only ones who see the world how it *is*, and that the Liberal Government and the Liberal Media are conspiring to brainwash and train and control the population.
I'm not saying that Liberals aren't guilty of this sort of thing as well; they are. All I'm saying is that maybe when you hear a bad quote like that, something highly incendiary, maybe before you go off and rant about it and start calling for executions and dismissal and wishing disease and pestilence on someone, maybe you should THINK about it, and research what really went on.
2) I already touched on this, but let's go in further:
People don't THINK anymore. People see what their friends say; they listen to whatever news program they watch (which they watch because it agrees with what they believe); they *sometimes* see what the opposition is saying. And then they blast off and shout hate and intolerance and ignorance at full volume. (oh- they only look at the opposition's position so that they can say that they're lying about everything and use quotes to say so)
I'm NOT claiming that I'm blameless here; I've done this a few times. Twice recently, I've re-posted something- usually a meme with a quote- and then something about it didn't seem right, or someone said that they didn't think it was correct. So I did what a responsible, reasonable adult would do: I Googled the quote to see the circumstances around it, what the accurate quote is, and how it became distorted. Three minutes on Google each time, and I had at least two trustworthy (not Wikipedia or Yahoo! Answers) sources telling me exactly what the original quote was. Once I knew, I apologized on the incorrect posts and took them down.
But no. Confront a far-Left-Wing or a far-Right-Wing believer with evidence which says they're wrong, and they'll tell you that the source clearly isn't credible, because that's clearly biased media! So, if you pull information from polar media which gives the same numbers, they'll still find a way to ignore it and continue in their ignorance.
People do not think. They don't. They do not use a gram of common sense; there is no logic behind their decisions; reason and rationale? Please, don't speak such words- they bring tears to my eyes, I miss them so much.
I believe that I should be allowed to bear any fucking "arm" I want to; I trust myself to be perfectly safe walking through Central Park with a 240G and two full boxes of linked 7.62mm belts ready to go. I trust myself to hold the end of the barrel of a .50 caliber rifle, or machine gun, to a small child's temple- while in Condition One- and I would trust myself and be confident in my ability to not shoot that child. However, there are many people in this country to whom I would not give a toothpick if a child was within 10 feet of them. And as such, I find myself making a compromise on the side of safety- a decision I don't like, but one I can live with: fine, if you're terrified of these weapons and won't stop treating me like a criminal until I relinquish them, then okay. Magazines? Let's be honest: there is absolutely NO reason you *need* 30 rounds when you're plinking targets. Now, no, I don't have to have 250hp in my car; people don't need to go 208mph; they don't need motorcycles; they don't need alcohol, or cigarettes, or most prescription drugs (which are often misused), but honestly, if this measure will give us a bit of peace- and hopefully will be revoked when they realize it hasn't actually made the country safer- then fine. Go ahead.
But I am deep, deep in the minority. Left-Wing-ers are trying to ban all weapons; Right-Wing-ers want to hunt rabbits with .50 cal Barrett rifles. And NO ONE will compromise. NO ONE will admit that maybe, for the GREATER GOOD of the entire fucking country, we should concede a few points.
No.
No, everyone is hardcore Left or Right. There is no compromise, no concessions, no allowances, no understanding.
And it ALL comes from one thing:
PEOPLE DON'T USE COMMON SENSE.
Sheeple. Fucking idiots.
THINK.
We have evolved such that we have risen to the *top* of the food chain. (or were created as such;' whatever. That's an argument for another day- or a week or so) Why? Nearly every creature in the Animal Kingdom is faster and stronger; they can smell far better than we; they can live on food which would kill us; how did we survive to come on top?
But we did. Not only did we survive, we conquered. We pwned the natural predators. We keep tigers and Boa Constrictors and Pythons and lions as fucking PETS. How?! As we all know, a tiger- one-on-one, bare-hands- would literally mop the floor with any human in the world... yet, we are somehow superior to them.
How?
Because humans THINK. Humans reason; they plan; they ponder; they wonder. Mankind has succeeded to the point of excess and comfort because we can imagine, we can dream, we can analyze, and WE CAN THINK. We are logical and reasonable and sensible and analytical. (when we want to be)
So why now, at what we seem to think is the pinnacle of our race's civilization, WHY are we dumber than we've been since Feudalism in the Middle Ages?! Why can't people THINK FOR THEMSELVES?
DON'T BE SHEEPLE.
Sunday, January 27, 2013
You're lazy. Yes, YOU.
I've been thinking a bit lately about "life after the military." I'm not sure how it's going to go. I'm working my way through the VA and the Medical Review Board to be
medically retired from the military. I considered staying in, and I've
given quite a lot of thought to it, but in the end I realized that with
my injuries, I would not be able to perform as a 'normal' person would
in a combat zone. The damage to my spinal cord is too great; I have
great difficulty with bodily functions which seriously hinder my ability
to get through a day without some special considerations and a good
deal of time devoted to them. As such, I'm now thinking about what will
happen when I return to the civilian world.
While I was in Afghanistan, I met a British contractor one day; another Marine and I were standing post at the ECP (front gate) and he came out to wait for a local to show up to talk to him. It was about 0430, 0500, somewhere in there, so there wasn't much going on. And while standing there, we started to talk to him.
The Marine with me was interested in the possibility of doing some contract work after he left Active Service- he was supposed to EAS (Exit Active Service) not long after we returned from the deployment- and he asked the man why he'd decided to be a military contractor.
The man told us that he'd been in the British army for.... a long time. I seem to recall that it was somewhere around 20+ years. (for some reason, British men seem to stay in the service far longer than most Americans)
On leaving the service, he tried to apply himself to the civilian workforce, but found himself constantly frustrated and confounded by the civilian attitude toward "work" he found there. He told us that whereas in the military, there is a strong sense of brotherhood- a PFC has a connection to the Sergeant Major, and at each rank there is a strong bond between peers- in the civilian world, everyone is out for themselves. No one does work "because it needs to be done"; you only work because you're paid, and you work absolutely NO more than you're paid to. In the Marine Corps (and possibly the rest of the US military, but I only have experience with the Corps) you work because you're told to, and you're expected to, and because it must be done. If you get off work at 2300, and are woken up at 0300 by your NCO calling to say that you have to get back right now, you go. You don't argue; you don't complain to him/her. You'll whine to/along with the people who are similar rank, but you won't ever let those below you see weakness, and you won't admit to your 'boss'(es) that you hate being there. It has to be done; they're in charge; you *do*it*. That's all there is. No argument, no questioning, just action and reaction.
So, the contractor had ended up leaving the civilian workforce in disgust and frustration, and found his niche as a contractor. He was still a civilian, so he had personal freedoms, but contractors are primarily prior-military men, so they all understand and still share that sense of strong brotherhood.
The only time I was able to take leave while I was stationed in Hawaii, I was waiting in the Honolulu airport for my flight- it was late at night, and I was flying to LAX, then BWI- and I couldn't help but stare at some of the civilians who were waiting for boarding around me. And I have a very clear memory of a man who walked up and fell into a seat a few rows away from me in the terminal..... This man was perhaps in his 30's or 40's- lower-middle-aged- and I swear must have weighed about 300 pounds- *none* of it muscle. I think he would have had the "pear" shape (which I find myself fighting to avoid now, as sedentary as I am in the hospital) except that he was simply too large; everywhere his body should have tapered, there was more fat. He had a slight shape to him, but it was more like an upside-down, deformed Red Delicious apple than a pear.
This man was wearing his flip-flops- one of which was broken, and was being held together with Scotch tape- his loose, paint-stained pajama pants, a baggy T-shirt (not sure how he found one large enough that it was still baggy on him, but it was clearly quite stretched even so) which was *full* of holes and had a few threads hanging from its stitching, a grimy baseball cap. (inside the terminal....) It didn't look like he'd shaved in two or three days, and there was a little crust of food in the corner of his mouth.
Overall, pretty nasty even to other civilians. But I noticed that a few other people looked up as he walked in and collapsed in his chair, but then everyone looked away. There were no signs of disgust to be found. And I realized: it's just another person. He's allowed to be like that. It's not "unacceptable" for him to look like that. In fact, if I had gone to him and told him that he was fat, his shirt was full of holes, his pants were sagging around his gelatinous rear end, and he needed to shave, he would have been first shocked, and then angry; I would almost certainly have found myself in some trouble for speaking to him thus.
Marines have a dress code, even while on leave. While I know very few people who follow it to the letter- I don't actually own a single Polo shirt, and it calls for a "collared shirt"- it does mean that anyone may, and will likely, correct you if you're out in public in some unacceptable attire. No gaping holes in clothing; no rude or ATOD-promoting T-shirts; NO flip-flops (the only exception being if you are stationed, and at the time physically in, Hawaii- Lava Dogs are permitted to wear flip-flops because of the overwhelming local culture and the climate) and the list goes on. Essentially, you are expected to- required to- look professional, clean, and respectable at ALL times. While on leave, you're still required to shave- no Marine is allowed to have facial hair other than eyebrows and a regulation-compliant mustache. (which often ends up being referred to as a "Hitler-stache") Marines aren't just called on to be, and look, clean and professional in uniform, while someone in charge is standing in front of you; we are expected to maintain certain standards everywhere we are, whomever we're with, whatever the circumstances. Wounded Warriors, some of them multiple-limb amputees, are held to a certain dress code: black bottom, green top, or the Marine Corps jogging suit, or OD Green sweats. It doesn't matter if it's cold out and you have no black pants or green sweatpants; you meet the standard. There is no confusion or questioning it; you just do. It's not an issue because we are Marines.
You live with that mentality for long enough, and you find the way you think and the way you perceive things, and other people, changing. Whereas a civilian would have seen that man in the airport and perhaps been disappointed he was fat, or at least a little disgusted at his unkempt, dirty clothing, they wouldn't have been outraged. It wouldn't necessarily be "unacceptable" to them.
(I don't really know where I'm going with this- I'm kind of just ranting)
I am, to be honest, not all that excited about leaving the Corps.
Things *work* in the military, and especially in the Corps. Marines do what they have to do, because they know that it has to be done. And there's a very good chance that they've actually done it correctly, because they *know* that someone will review their work, and that they *will* catch Hell if they haven't done it to the best of their abilities. You always know, without a doubt, that when you need a brother to lean on, you can take your pick of a dozen of the most dangerous, crazy, stupid, loyal, honest guys you'll ever know. And you won't just be on the phone- your boy is racking out, and you call him and say you're in some bad shit, and he'll stay on the phone- all the way over to your room, where he'll sit down with you if you need him there.
... I just hear things like the universal 'joke' of 'calling in sick'; a generally accepted measure to get a day off. Hey, I get it- sometimes you need that time. You have concerns and a life outside of your job, and sometimes the two don't get along well. But the fact that people are so lackadaisical about such things makes me wonder if they're actually going to be there when they need to be.
Anyway, I'm finished, because I don't really know what else to say.
While I was in Afghanistan, I met a British contractor one day; another Marine and I were standing post at the ECP (front gate) and he came out to wait for a local to show up to talk to him. It was about 0430, 0500, somewhere in there, so there wasn't much going on. And while standing there, we started to talk to him.
The Marine with me was interested in the possibility of doing some contract work after he left Active Service- he was supposed to EAS (Exit Active Service) not long after we returned from the deployment- and he asked the man why he'd decided to be a military contractor.
The man told us that he'd been in the British army for.... a long time. I seem to recall that it was somewhere around 20+ years. (for some reason, British men seem to stay in the service far longer than most Americans)
On leaving the service, he tried to apply himself to the civilian workforce, but found himself constantly frustrated and confounded by the civilian attitude toward "work" he found there. He told us that whereas in the military, there is a strong sense of brotherhood- a PFC has a connection to the Sergeant Major, and at each rank there is a strong bond between peers- in the civilian world, everyone is out for themselves. No one does work "because it needs to be done"; you only work because you're paid, and you work absolutely NO more than you're paid to. In the Marine Corps (and possibly the rest of the US military, but I only have experience with the Corps) you work because you're told to, and you're expected to, and because it must be done. If you get off work at 2300, and are woken up at 0300 by your NCO calling to say that you have to get back right now, you go. You don't argue; you don't complain to him/her. You'll whine to/along with the people who are similar rank, but you won't ever let those below you see weakness, and you won't admit to your 'boss'(es) that you hate being there. It has to be done; they're in charge; you *do*it*. That's all there is. No argument, no questioning, just action and reaction.
So, the contractor had ended up leaving the civilian workforce in disgust and frustration, and found his niche as a contractor. He was still a civilian, so he had personal freedoms, but contractors are primarily prior-military men, so they all understand and still share that sense of strong brotherhood.
The only time I was able to take leave while I was stationed in Hawaii, I was waiting in the Honolulu airport for my flight- it was late at night, and I was flying to LAX, then BWI- and I couldn't help but stare at some of the civilians who were waiting for boarding around me. And I have a very clear memory of a man who walked up and fell into a seat a few rows away from me in the terminal..... This man was perhaps in his 30's or 40's- lower-middle-aged- and I swear must have weighed about 300 pounds- *none* of it muscle. I think he would have had the "pear" shape (which I find myself fighting to avoid now, as sedentary as I am in the hospital) except that he was simply too large; everywhere his body should have tapered, there was more fat. He had a slight shape to him, but it was more like an upside-down, deformed Red Delicious apple than a pear.
This man was wearing his flip-flops- one of which was broken, and was being held together with Scotch tape- his loose, paint-stained pajama pants, a baggy T-shirt (not sure how he found one large enough that it was still baggy on him, but it was clearly quite stretched even so) which was *full* of holes and had a few threads hanging from its stitching, a grimy baseball cap. (inside the terminal....) It didn't look like he'd shaved in two or three days, and there was a little crust of food in the corner of his mouth.
Overall, pretty nasty even to other civilians. But I noticed that a few other people looked up as he walked in and collapsed in his chair, but then everyone looked away. There were no signs of disgust to be found. And I realized: it's just another person. He's allowed to be like that. It's not "unacceptable" for him to look like that. In fact, if I had gone to him and told him that he was fat, his shirt was full of holes, his pants were sagging around his gelatinous rear end, and he needed to shave, he would have been first shocked, and then angry; I would almost certainly have found myself in some trouble for speaking to him thus.
Marines have a dress code, even while on leave. While I know very few people who follow it to the letter- I don't actually own a single Polo shirt, and it calls for a "collared shirt"- it does mean that anyone may, and will likely, correct you if you're out in public in some unacceptable attire. No gaping holes in clothing; no rude or ATOD-promoting T-shirts; NO flip-flops (the only exception being if you are stationed, and at the time physically in, Hawaii- Lava Dogs are permitted to wear flip-flops because of the overwhelming local culture and the climate) and the list goes on. Essentially, you are expected to- required to- look professional, clean, and respectable at ALL times. While on leave, you're still required to shave- no Marine is allowed to have facial hair other than eyebrows and a regulation-compliant mustache. (which often ends up being referred to as a "Hitler-stache") Marines aren't just called on to be, and look, clean and professional in uniform, while someone in charge is standing in front of you; we are expected to maintain certain standards everywhere we are, whomever we're with, whatever the circumstances. Wounded Warriors, some of them multiple-limb amputees, are held to a certain dress code: black bottom, green top, or the Marine Corps jogging suit, or OD Green sweats. It doesn't matter if it's cold out and you have no black pants or green sweatpants; you meet the standard. There is no confusion or questioning it; you just do. It's not an issue because we are Marines.
You live with that mentality for long enough, and you find the way you think and the way you perceive things, and other people, changing. Whereas a civilian would have seen that man in the airport and perhaps been disappointed he was fat, or at least a little disgusted at his unkempt, dirty clothing, they wouldn't have been outraged. It wouldn't necessarily be "unacceptable" to them.
(I don't really know where I'm going with this- I'm kind of just ranting)
I am, to be honest, not all that excited about leaving the Corps.
Things *work* in the military, and especially in the Corps. Marines do what they have to do, because they know that it has to be done. And there's a very good chance that they've actually done it correctly, because they *know* that someone will review their work, and that they *will* catch Hell if they haven't done it to the best of their abilities. You always know, without a doubt, that when you need a brother to lean on, you can take your pick of a dozen of the most dangerous, crazy, stupid, loyal, honest guys you'll ever know. And you won't just be on the phone- your boy is racking out, and you call him and say you're in some bad shit, and he'll stay on the phone- all the way over to your room, where he'll sit down with you if you need him there.
... I just hear things like the universal 'joke' of 'calling in sick'; a generally accepted measure to get a day off. Hey, I get it- sometimes you need that time. You have concerns and a life outside of your job, and sometimes the two don't get along well. But the fact that people are so lackadaisical about such things makes me wonder if they're actually going to be there when they need to be.
Anyway, I'm finished, because I don't really know what else to say.
Monday, January 21, 2013
Correction... damnit.
OK, so after I posted last time about how firearms should be totally legal and it's stupid to say otherwise, I started thinking. (always a dangerous place) And then, last night, I got into a bit of an argument. Someone on Facebook posted an image of President Obama (because he's the fucking President, let's say "President Obama"; he's not my home-boy from the block, so I don't just call him "Obama") saying "Most Americans agree with me on gun control." And then it had a few graphed poll numbers below it; here's the picture:
I couldn't quite believe that those numbers were real, so I did some research. (by which I mean, "I Googled "Americans gun control numbers"") and I got back these results:
http://www.washingtonpost.com/page/2010-2019/WashingtonPost/2013/01/14/National-Politics/Polling/release_192.xml
http://i2.cdn.turner.com/cnn/2013/images/01/16/rel1b4pm.pdf
http://www.foxnews.com/politics/interactive/2013/01/18/fox-news-poll-gun-rights-and-gun-control/
So, the Washington Post and CNN are Liberal media outlets, so when I posted them first someone commented on the picture bashing me for believing the obviously faked numbers which gun-hating, Liberal America wanted me to believe. So I looked again, and found the FOX News poll, which gives almost exactly the same numbers.
But people are never satisfied, so I played Devil's Advocate for a while. While saying again and again that I do not *agree* with the measures (Assault Weapons Ban, banning semi-automatic weapons, etc.) I do believe that they may be the best idea FOR THE COUNTRY. While I trust myself perfectly well to handle any firearm within a few feet of a classroom of children, I can't say that I have the same faith in all American citizens; for quite a few, I wouldn't hand them a butter knife if they were tied to a chair, for fear they would somehow kill someone with it. And seeing as these dangerous people are finding more and more ways to harm themselves and others, I do believe that, IN THE INTERESTS OF KEEPING THIS NATION ALIVE, that some personal freedoms may have to be surrendered. The freedom to burn trash in your own yard has been illegal for some time, because while you may be capable enough not to burn your own house down, it does put others around you at risk.
So I can see why people would ask for these measures. Again, I do NOT agree with them, and I do believe that the Second Amendment grants us the privilege to own and bear whatever firearms we please- they created that Amendment in order to allow people to rise up and fight their Government if necessary- but they did not see today's world when they wrote it. They had no idea how dense population would become; they couldn't possibly have foreseen the military-grade equipment we regularly see today. "Cutting-edge weapons technology" of the time was a rifled barrel; today, gas pistons are cycling weapons automatically, allowing for fully-automatic fire with minimal maintenance and cleaning of the bolt housing and group, and ammunition and weapons allow for engagements at ranges which Revolution-era soldiers couldn't have dreamed of. So while I do believe that the Second Amendment was designed to ensure that American citizens had access to such military-grade weaponry, I also believe that it was written in a very different time; the concept that you had to rebel against established authority was, obviously, very reasonable and logical to the men who birthed the American Revolution. Today, it simply isn't.
So I found myself arguing that gun control is necessary to maintain this world in which we live.
And I find myself arguing it once again.
Once again, I DO NOT AGREE with the idea of limiting *my* access to weapons and ammunition; however, I wholeheartedly agree with the concept that some people- a lot of people, actually- should be barred from buying, owning, and handling the same weapons.
I couldn't quite believe that those numbers were real, so I did some research. (by which I mean, "I Googled "Americans gun control numbers"") and I got back these results:
http://www.washingtonpost.com/page/2010-2019/WashingtonPost/2013/01/14/National-Politics/Polling/release_192.xml
http://i2.cdn.turner.com/cnn/2013/images/01/16/rel1b4pm.pdf
http://www.foxnews.com/politics/interactive/2013/01/18/fox-news-poll-gun-rights-and-gun-control/
So, the Washington Post and CNN are Liberal media outlets, so when I posted them first someone commented on the picture bashing me for believing the obviously faked numbers which gun-hating, Liberal America wanted me to believe. So I looked again, and found the FOX News poll, which gives almost exactly the same numbers.
But people are never satisfied, so I played Devil's Advocate for a while. While saying again and again that I do not *agree* with the measures (Assault Weapons Ban, banning semi-automatic weapons, etc.) I do believe that they may be the best idea FOR THE COUNTRY. While I trust myself perfectly well to handle any firearm within a few feet of a classroom of children, I can't say that I have the same faith in all American citizens; for quite a few, I wouldn't hand them a butter knife if they were tied to a chair, for fear they would somehow kill someone with it. And seeing as these dangerous people are finding more and more ways to harm themselves and others, I do believe that, IN THE INTERESTS OF KEEPING THIS NATION ALIVE, that some personal freedoms may have to be surrendered. The freedom to burn trash in your own yard has been illegal for some time, because while you may be capable enough not to burn your own house down, it does put others around you at risk.
So I can see why people would ask for these measures. Again, I do NOT agree with them, and I do believe that the Second Amendment grants us the privilege to own and bear whatever firearms we please- they created that Amendment in order to allow people to rise up and fight their Government if necessary- but they did not see today's world when they wrote it. They had no idea how dense population would become; they couldn't possibly have foreseen the military-grade equipment we regularly see today. "Cutting-edge weapons technology" of the time was a rifled barrel; today, gas pistons are cycling weapons automatically, allowing for fully-automatic fire with minimal maintenance and cleaning of the bolt housing and group, and ammunition and weapons allow for engagements at ranges which Revolution-era soldiers couldn't have dreamed of. So while I do believe that the Second Amendment was designed to ensure that American citizens had access to such military-grade weaponry, I also believe that it was written in a very different time; the concept that you had to rebel against established authority was, obviously, very reasonable and logical to the men who birthed the American Revolution. Today, it simply isn't.
So I found myself arguing that gun control is necessary to maintain this world in which we live.
And I find myself arguing it once again.
Once again, I DO NOT AGREE with the idea of limiting *my* access to weapons and ammunition; however, I wholeheartedly agree with the concept that some people- a lot of people, actually- should be barred from buying, owning, and handling the same weapons.
Saturday, January 19, 2013
Issues, instead of another boring personal update:
So today, I'm going to get into THE topic of the last several weeks:
GUN CONTROL.
1) Proper gun control = using two hands.
And that is that.
2) I can see both sides of this issue. I can easily take up the flag and argue- very convincingly- that firearms should be *heavily* controlled, if allowed at all. I can look into things like school shootings and say, "See? This will make everyone sager!"
OR, I could come down on the side I really *want* to win: Gun owners. I enjoy using firearms, and I think that they are a powerful, effective self-defense tool.
I also know, for a *fact*, that they are a very powerful offensive weapon, as well.
However, the big issue seems to be that gun control advocates speak as though they want to ban ALL semi-automatic weapons; anything with a magazine; anything which they do not see as utilitarian. Hell, they'd probably *love* to ban all firearms, period. And all gun ownership supporters seem to want an open season on gun ownership; .50-caliber armor-piercing rounds in a rifle which could blow your body in half at full mile? Of course!
Me, I think that there is, in fact, a middle ground to be found. But people don't seem to *want* to find it.
Gun advocates always say that "if you outlaw firearms, only outlaws will have firearms!" Well, let's look at a nation where guns are, and have been for some time, totally illegal: Japan.
In 2008, the United States had 9,484 gun deaths; Japan had 11.
In 2007, the numbers were 10,086:22, respectively.
[Source: The Atlantic]
It seems like I'm making a pretty compelling for banning all gun ownership in the United States, yes?
No, I'm not.
Japanese culture is radically different from that in the United States of America. Citizens of Japan are not, and have never been, guaranteed the rights American citizens are. American citizens are granted, are guaranteed, the right to own and bear arms, and they are charged with the duty to stand up and remove any power which tries to overstep its boundaries to control their private lives. The Japanese are not, and never have been.
I understand that there are people who should not be allowed to get their hands on firearms. I understand that so long as such weapons are available that someone will be hurt and/or killed by them. I know that if law-abiding citizens are given the privilege of purchasing firearms, there will be some loophole, some way for criminals and mentally unsound persons to obtain weapons and use them for havoc, massacre, and death.
However, it is not our government's job to eliminate all danger in our lives.
I like driving my car at high speed. However, 85mph is the fastest you are allowed to drive anywhere in the United States. Most of the roads I drive on have limits of 55mph; on larger highways, I see 65mph. If the fastest you are ever going to be required to drive your car is 85mph, why doesn't the Federal government limit all road cars to, say, 90mph?
In 2011, 32,310 people were killed in traffic accidents in the United States; there were 32,885 traffic fatalities in 2010. [http://content.usatoday.com/communities/driveon/post/2012/05/2011-may-have-had-fewest-traffic-fatalities-ever/1#.UPsX-GdxlRw]
How many of them were caused by, or at least turned from a ‘severe accident’ to ‘traffic fatalities’ due to, excessive speed?
How many stories have you heard which end in a drunk driver doing 105mph straight into the side of a family’s minivan?
No, it won’t remove all traffic fatalities; taking away alcohol will prevent an awful lot of those deaths, yes? 31% of the fatalities in 2010- that’s 10,228 men, women, and children, dead- were due to drunk driving crashes. More than three people were killed in drunk driving fatalities for every 100,000 Americans. [http://www.centurycouncil.org/drunk-driving/drunk-driving-fatalities-national-statistics]
I don’t hear anyone calling for a second Prohibition. I don’t hear any demand for the government to stop all these manic people who get wasted and then terrorize our children on the roads! Our children are on the street in school buses; they’re playing in the yard; they’re helping old ladies cross the street; I could guarantee you that there are more people in’on’near the streets than are in school! So WHY aren’t we hearing the President of the United States railing against drunk drivers? Why don’t we hear an outcry for this madness, this murder, to be stopped?! Men and women with no driving training beyond Driver’s Ed are getting into high-speed, multi-ton vehicles which are capable of driving through ditches, over low walls, and even straight into your living room, and careening at speed through your neighborhood!
We accept traffic fatalities because we like our cars. Cars aren’t black and scary and evil-looking. Anti-gun activists often don’t understand the weapons they’re afraid of; for instance, while semi-automatic handguns are scary and dangerous because it just takes a trigger squeeze to fire, pistols are generally regarded as less sinister. In fact, most pistols are capable of firing in single-action mode as well. No, they don’t have a magazine, but they have a revolving chamber holding multiple rounds; most commonly six, but there are examples of eight-, nine=, or ten-round revolvers. If you have a so-called “moon clip”, it’s much like having multiple magazines; when you have fired all of the rounds your weapon holds, you simply pop open the chamber, let the empty brass fall, and pop a new, fully-loaded moon clip into position to reload. An experienced shooter using such a clip can reload in the time it would take most people to eject an empty box magazine, slap a new magazine into the breach, and rack the slide to lock a new round into the chamber.
Numerous pictures have begun to circulate the web: pictures of anti-gun politicians- including the President of the United States- surrounded by their standard security: fully-armored Police, Secret Service, men bearing assault weapons, pistols, etc. The pictures are usually captioned with something along the lines of, “If it’s good enough for POTUS, it’s good enough for my family!”
Lawmakers fear guns. They are afraid of the “Black Rifle”; it’s associated with the military; with death; with chaos and carnage. Lawmakers read “gun owner” and hear “homicidal maniac”; they see “semi-automatic rifle” and read it as, “BAR with baby-killing bullets.”
OK, that’s a little extreme. But I’m pissed.
Honestly- here are the two things to which I boil down my arguments:
1) Lawmakers and politicians approach no other subject like they do gun control. Vehicles and alcohol cause about the same number of fatalities annually in the United States, but I have yet to hear a news anchor calling for a sweeping reform of automotive laws and regulations. Newspapers aren’t printing the names and addresses of everyone who’s bought a bottle of alcohol in the last year. [http://www.cnn.com/2012/12/25/us/new-york-gun-permit-map/index.html] People are going out to bars and drowning their memories; college parties are still going strong; clubs are still packing their dance floors with the tipsy, the woozy, and the straight-up drunk. No one is so much as questioning their right to enjoy themselves.
2) THIS IS THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. This nation was founded to provide individuals with the freedoms which we now consider to be a natural right; freedoms which we Americans believe to be inherent to life. I disagree with many of the trends in the modern United States of America, but I do believe that its purpose in this world is true and it is necessary. And I do believe that we must, no matter the cost, hold true to the core principle of our foundation: individual freedom, rights, and responsibility.
Yes, this leads to deaths; but it is why we exist as a country. If you don’t agree with the tenets that this country stands for, the freedoms which we exist as a nation to provide, then leave. Find a country where guns aren’t allowed. Sure, you won’t be allowed to do a lot of other things, but that’s the price you pay. You can’t stand for freedom for some things, and not for others. You either believe in personal freedom, and you believe in the in the idea that our Government exists to protect us from the world, not from ourselves, or you don’t. You either believe in ALL freedoms that this country provides, or you don’t. If not, then find another country; found your own Nation. But this Nation exists, has existed for all its history, to provide its citizens with ALL of the freedoms which its Constitution guarantees them.
I got a little bit mixed up, but I’m pissed..... It seems like no one is saying this, so I’m trying to.
GUN CONTROL.
1) Proper gun control = using two hands.
And that is that.
2) I can see both sides of this issue. I can easily take up the flag and argue- very convincingly- that firearms should be *heavily* controlled, if allowed at all. I can look into things like school shootings and say, "See? This will make everyone sager!"
OR, I could come down on the side I really *want* to win: Gun owners. I enjoy using firearms, and I think that they are a powerful, effective self-defense tool.
I also know, for a *fact*, that they are a very powerful offensive weapon, as well.
However, the big issue seems to be that gun control advocates speak as though they want to ban ALL semi-automatic weapons; anything with a magazine; anything which they do not see as utilitarian. Hell, they'd probably *love* to ban all firearms, period. And all gun ownership supporters seem to want an open season on gun ownership; .50-caliber armor-piercing rounds in a rifle which could blow your body in half at full mile? Of course!
Me, I think that there is, in fact, a middle ground to be found. But people don't seem to *want* to find it.
Gun advocates always say that "if you outlaw firearms, only outlaws will have firearms!" Well, let's look at a nation where guns are, and have been for some time, totally illegal: Japan.
In 2008, the United States had 9,484 gun deaths; Japan had 11.
In 2007, the numbers were 10,086:22, respectively.
[Source: The Atlantic]
It seems like I'm making a pretty compelling for banning all gun ownership in the United States, yes?
No, I'm not.
Japanese culture is radically different from that in the United States of America. Citizens of Japan are not, and have never been, guaranteed the rights American citizens are. American citizens are granted, are guaranteed, the right to own and bear arms, and they are charged with the duty to stand up and remove any power which tries to overstep its boundaries to control their private lives. The Japanese are not, and never have been.
I understand that there are people who should not be allowed to get their hands on firearms. I understand that so long as such weapons are available that someone will be hurt and/or killed by them. I know that if law-abiding citizens are given the privilege of purchasing firearms, there will be some loophole, some way for criminals and mentally unsound persons to obtain weapons and use them for havoc, massacre, and death.
However, it is not our government's job to eliminate all danger in our lives.
I like driving my car at high speed. However, 85mph is the fastest you are allowed to drive anywhere in the United States. Most of the roads I drive on have limits of 55mph; on larger highways, I see 65mph. If the fastest you are ever going to be required to drive your car is 85mph, why doesn't the Federal government limit all road cars to, say, 90mph?
In 2011, 32,310 people were killed in traffic accidents in the United States; there were 32,885 traffic fatalities in 2010. [http://content.usatoday.com/communities/driveon/post/2012/05/2011-may-have-had-fewest-traffic-fatalities-ever/1#.UPsX-GdxlRw]
How many of them were caused by, or at least turned from a ‘severe accident’ to ‘traffic fatalities’ due to, excessive speed?
How many stories have you heard which end in a drunk driver doing 105mph straight into the side of a family’s minivan?
No, it won’t remove all traffic fatalities; taking away alcohol will prevent an awful lot of those deaths, yes? 31% of the fatalities in 2010- that’s 10,228 men, women, and children, dead- were due to drunk driving crashes. More than three people were killed in drunk driving fatalities for every 100,000 Americans. [http://www.centurycouncil.org/drunk-driving/drunk-driving-fatalities-national-statistics]
I don’t hear anyone calling for a second Prohibition. I don’t hear any demand for the government to stop all these manic people who get wasted and then terrorize our children on the roads! Our children are on the street in school buses; they’re playing in the yard; they’re helping old ladies cross the street; I could guarantee you that there are more people in’on’near the streets than are in school! So WHY aren’t we hearing the President of the United States railing against drunk drivers? Why don’t we hear an outcry for this madness, this murder, to be stopped?! Men and women with no driving training beyond Driver’s Ed are getting into high-speed, multi-ton vehicles which are capable of driving through ditches, over low walls, and even straight into your living room, and careening at speed through your neighborhood!
We accept traffic fatalities because we like our cars. Cars aren’t black and scary and evil-looking. Anti-gun activists often don’t understand the weapons they’re afraid of; for instance, while semi-automatic handguns are scary and dangerous because it just takes a trigger squeeze to fire, pistols are generally regarded as less sinister. In fact, most pistols are capable of firing in single-action mode as well. No, they don’t have a magazine, but they have a revolving chamber holding multiple rounds; most commonly six, but there are examples of eight-, nine=, or ten-round revolvers. If you have a so-called “moon clip”, it’s much like having multiple magazines; when you have fired all of the rounds your weapon holds, you simply pop open the chamber, let the empty brass fall, and pop a new, fully-loaded moon clip into position to reload. An experienced shooter using such a clip can reload in the time it would take most people to eject an empty box magazine, slap a new magazine into the breach, and rack the slide to lock a new round into the chamber.
Numerous pictures have begun to circulate the web: pictures of anti-gun politicians- including the President of the United States- surrounded by their standard security: fully-armored Police, Secret Service, men bearing assault weapons, pistols, etc. The pictures are usually captioned with something along the lines of, “If it’s good enough for POTUS, it’s good enough for my family!”
Lawmakers fear guns. They are afraid of the “Black Rifle”; it’s associated with the military; with death; with chaos and carnage. Lawmakers read “gun owner” and hear “homicidal maniac”; they see “semi-automatic rifle” and read it as, “BAR with baby-killing bullets.”
OK, that’s a little extreme. But I’m pissed.
Honestly- here are the two things to which I boil down my arguments:
1) Lawmakers and politicians approach no other subject like they do gun control. Vehicles and alcohol cause about the same number of fatalities annually in the United States, but I have yet to hear a news anchor calling for a sweeping reform of automotive laws and regulations. Newspapers aren’t printing the names and addresses of everyone who’s bought a bottle of alcohol in the last year. [http://www.cnn.com/2012/12/25/us/new-york-gun-permit-map/index.html] People are going out to bars and drowning their memories; college parties are still going strong; clubs are still packing their dance floors with the tipsy, the woozy, and the straight-up drunk. No one is so much as questioning their right to enjoy themselves.
2) THIS IS THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. This nation was founded to provide individuals with the freedoms which we now consider to be a natural right; freedoms which we Americans believe to be inherent to life. I disagree with many of the trends in the modern United States of America, but I do believe that its purpose in this world is true and it is necessary. And I do believe that we must, no matter the cost, hold true to the core principle of our foundation: individual freedom, rights, and responsibility.
Yes, this leads to deaths; but it is why we exist as a country. If you don’t agree with the tenets that this country stands for, the freedoms which we exist as a nation to provide, then leave. Find a country where guns aren’t allowed. Sure, you won’t be allowed to do a lot of other things, but that’s the price you pay. You can’t stand for freedom for some things, and not for others. You either believe in personal freedom, and you believe in the in the idea that our Government exists to protect us from the world, not from ourselves, or you don’t. You either believe in ALL freedoms that this country provides, or you don’t. If not, then find another country; found your own Nation. But this Nation exists, has existed for all its history, to provide its citizens with ALL of the freedoms which its Constitution guarantees them.
I got a little bit mixed up, but I’m pissed..... It seems like no one is saying this, so I’m trying to.
Thursday, January 17, 2013
MANY apologies
Once again, I'm going to truly apologize for mu absence from my adoring public!
Life has been..... well, let's say it's been "a little crazy."
Okay, I can't say that with a straight face- life has kiiinda gone to shit for me. For now.
It happens sometimes.
See, when I last said "hi" (for those of you [no one, I think] who are reading) I had been walking, and doing well, and I could see my life continuing after this fucking hospital bullshit was over with, and I had moved on past a few major hurdles in my life, and I was just starting to feel like maybe I was *getting* *there*- that I was getting to a point where I could trust myself to be entirely independent. Where I wouldn't need a prosthetist every other day to work on my leg; where I wouldn't need to take medication every few hours; where I could wear pants and honestly NO ONE WOULD KNOW I'M AN AMPUTEE, which has been my goal since I went Out-Patient in March!
And then, I guess God said "Uh, no, bitch" and I got MRSA in my leg, and spent a week in the ward to have it cleaned out. They couldn't just swab it and keep a bandage on it; they opened my leg up and cleaned the area. And then I went home (to the barracks room) and was told that in maybe a month, maybe two, I should be back in my leg and starting to walk again! I mean, it would take some time to rebuild the strength and resistance to the feel of it, but I can't imagine it would take so long if I had been spending all of my time in my prosthesis.
Well, one week after my discharge from the ward, I'm back here.
My leg kept draining blood and fluid, and they're concerned, so they're going to open it AGAIN and clean it AGAIN.
And I'm having issues with depression.
I've known for months that I've had depression (post-injury) and that it comes and goes. I don't think it's ever completely *gone*, but some days I just don't want to go to PT, don't want to shave, don't want to get dressed, don't want to get up, don't even want to lift my head. (it isn't just a physical sensation of exhaustion; it's mental exhaustion, apathy, and frustration at that very apathy, which makes you pissed at yourself)
But now, I've gotten to the point where I have realized that, no, something is actually wrong. I don't know exactly what it is, but I need to see someone to find out. I have long, long periods of apathy and a total lack of motivation to do anything.
I'm a Marine; when I was in the fleet, if a single thread was out of place on my uniform, I cut it. (literally- I spent hours some nights just going over the stitching and finish of my uniforms) If a single scrap of a gum wrapper was on the floor, I cleaned it up. Those were standards which came long before things like "watching a movie" or "relaxing"... or "eating".
And now, I can't quite get up the drive to clean my room. At all. Ever.
I have an awful time trying to sleep almost every night, I can't stop my mind from just thinking, and..... and I miss my boys.
Shit. By the time I was hit, I'd been in Afghanistan for 6 1/2 months. I had tickets to go home on leave; we were getting ready to have our replacements start moving in. And then, suddenly, instead of processing through with the Battalion and heading out that way, I got back to the States in eight days.
Now, my boys are in Hawaii, and I miss them. It's weird, because I have never been the type of person to miss.... anyone. Ever. But I miss being with my guys in the Comm Platoon.
Because I'd made it through almost the entire deployment, it wasn't like I'd just dropped my pack and checked out, but I thought I was going home. Nothing is a sure deal- especially not in the Marine Corps, in Afghanistan- but I assumed I would go home. We'd lost one man; we'd lost him about 7-8 hours away from the FOB I was in, if I remember correctly. (that's driving in a convoy on a small road) So I assumed I would be back in Hawaii, trying to deal with the orders and backlog of work and all the headache and frustration and sleeplessness of the Garrison life of an E-3-or-below Marine in Kaneohe Bay. Instead, I came here.
Now, they're all back. They all kept going. I feel like I'm left out, like I missed something. I've never really gotten to explore Hawaii (at all), and I was looking forward so much to seeing Pearl Harbor, and swimming in the ocean, maybe renting a kayak, and just being around my boys.
You know how trials and tribulation and group pain and punishment forge bonds between people? Think about going through Marine Corps Boot Camp, in the summer, at Parris Island; think about going through the months of Comm School; of being destroyed and upbraided and sprinting- literally- everywhere to your NCOs' demands, in the middle of the desert, where there is no rescue coming; of facing sleepless days, weeks, months, with guys who know at least some of your pain; of literally wringing puddles of sweat our of your clothing, knowing that tomorrow, it will be just as bad- if not worse- and that the guy next to you knows what it's like. Marines don't form 'normal' bonds with one another; we are the tightest brotherhood of any military service for a reason. And now, I feel like a Marine on his own.
My 'pack', the boys I'd bee with and around for a year, are suddenly gone. They have lives without me- they kept moving. They're married and moved and the Comm Shop is different and it's all so.... odd. Like when you see a friend you haven't seen in twenty years, but they've died their hair orange instead of black and they've lost eighty pounds and started wearing all-white clothing, when you knew them as a Goth before. It's still them; they're just hard to recognize. You don't know if you *can* relate to them now.
Everything just keeps moving. And just when I think I'm moving too, I get bitch-slapped in the face and slammed into a chair to watch everything whirl right past me.
Life has been..... well, let's say it's been "a little crazy."
Okay, I can't say that with a straight face- life has kiiinda gone to shit for me. For now.
It happens sometimes.
See, when I last said "hi" (for those of you [no one, I think] who are reading) I had been walking, and doing well, and I could see my life continuing after this fucking hospital bullshit was over with, and I had moved on past a few major hurdles in my life, and I was just starting to feel like maybe I was *getting* *there*- that I was getting to a point where I could trust myself to be entirely independent. Where I wouldn't need a prosthetist every other day to work on my leg; where I wouldn't need to take medication every few hours; where I could wear pants and honestly NO ONE WOULD KNOW I'M AN AMPUTEE, which has been my goal since I went Out-Patient in March!
And then, I guess God said "Uh, no, bitch" and I got MRSA in my leg, and spent a week in the ward to have it cleaned out. They couldn't just swab it and keep a bandage on it; they opened my leg up and cleaned the area. And then I went home (to the barracks room) and was told that in maybe a month, maybe two, I should be back in my leg and starting to walk again! I mean, it would take some time to rebuild the strength and resistance to the feel of it, but I can't imagine it would take so long if I had been spending all of my time in my prosthesis.
Well, one week after my discharge from the ward, I'm back here.
My leg kept draining blood and fluid, and they're concerned, so they're going to open it AGAIN and clean it AGAIN.
And I'm having issues with depression.
I've known for months that I've had depression (post-injury) and that it comes and goes. I don't think it's ever completely *gone*, but some days I just don't want to go to PT, don't want to shave, don't want to get dressed, don't want to get up, don't even want to lift my head. (it isn't just a physical sensation of exhaustion; it's mental exhaustion, apathy, and frustration at that very apathy, which makes you pissed at yourself)
But now, I've gotten to the point where I have realized that, no, something is actually wrong. I don't know exactly what it is, but I need to see someone to find out. I have long, long periods of apathy and a total lack of motivation to do anything.
I'm a Marine; when I was in the fleet, if a single thread was out of place on my uniform, I cut it. (literally- I spent hours some nights just going over the stitching and finish of my uniforms) If a single scrap of a gum wrapper was on the floor, I cleaned it up. Those were standards which came long before things like "watching a movie" or "relaxing"... or "eating".
And now, I can't quite get up the drive to clean my room. At all. Ever.
I have an awful time trying to sleep almost every night, I can't stop my mind from just thinking, and..... and I miss my boys.
Shit. By the time I was hit, I'd been in Afghanistan for 6 1/2 months. I had tickets to go home on leave; we were getting ready to have our replacements start moving in. And then, suddenly, instead of processing through with the Battalion and heading out that way, I got back to the States in eight days.
Now, my boys are in Hawaii, and I miss them. It's weird, because I have never been the type of person to miss.... anyone. Ever. But I miss being with my guys in the Comm Platoon.
Because I'd made it through almost the entire deployment, it wasn't like I'd just dropped my pack and checked out, but I thought I was going home. Nothing is a sure deal- especially not in the Marine Corps, in Afghanistan- but I assumed I would go home. We'd lost one man; we'd lost him about 7-8 hours away from the FOB I was in, if I remember correctly. (that's driving in a convoy on a small road) So I assumed I would be back in Hawaii, trying to deal with the orders and backlog of work and all the headache and frustration and sleeplessness of the Garrison life of an E-3-or-below Marine in Kaneohe Bay. Instead, I came here.
Now, they're all back. They all kept going. I feel like I'm left out, like I missed something. I've never really gotten to explore Hawaii (at all), and I was looking forward so much to seeing Pearl Harbor, and swimming in the ocean, maybe renting a kayak, and just being around my boys.
You know how trials and tribulation and group pain and punishment forge bonds between people? Think about going through Marine Corps Boot Camp, in the summer, at Parris Island; think about going through the months of Comm School; of being destroyed and upbraided and sprinting- literally- everywhere to your NCOs' demands, in the middle of the desert, where there is no rescue coming; of facing sleepless days, weeks, months, with guys who know at least some of your pain; of literally wringing puddles of sweat our of your clothing, knowing that tomorrow, it will be just as bad- if not worse- and that the guy next to you knows what it's like. Marines don't form 'normal' bonds with one another; we are the tightest brotherhood of any military service for a reason. And now, I feel like a Marine on his own.
My 'pack', the boys I'd bee with and around for a year, are suddenly gone. They have lives without me- they kept moving. They're married and moved and the Comm Shop is different and it's all so.... odd. Like when you see a friend you haven't seen in twenty years, but they've died their hair orange instead of black and they've lost eighty pounds and started wearing all-white clothing, when you knew them as a Goth before. It's still them; they're just hard to recognize. You don't know if you *can* relate to them now.
Everything just keeps moving. And just when I think I'm moving too, I get bitch-slapped in the face and slammed into a chair to watch everything whirl right past me.
Thursday, January 10, 2013
Two steps forward, one step back...
... or maybe 1.5 steps backward.
Or 3.
Right when it looks like I'm doing well, and I'm walking everywhere, and I don't have any actual problems... something fucking opens up in my leg. I now have a 4.5cm deep hole in my leg which is steadily draining a clear-ish fluid and blood for about a week and about a half, and walking on it *hurts*.
So right when I was actually picking up some positivity, there it all goes.
... Again.
I hate this.
I don't like complaining, don't like whining- I don't even like admitting that anything is wrong. Thing is, well, an amputated leg isn't exactly something you can hide from a doctor; when you spasm and can't walk from pain, it's hard to play that off; and I've learned that there is absolutely NO way to make things better if I just sit there and don't say anything. If I admit pain, or say that something isn't right, then there is a chance- a small chance, but that's better than *no* chance- that maybe someone will actually try to fix it.
... maybe.
So about two weeks ago, I went off of a medication that was... honestly, it's my least-favorite medicine of all. And I wasn't sleeping- like, at all- for a while. (bed 2130-2230; fall asleep 2330, wake up 0030, sleep, wake up 0200, sleep-wake-sleep-wake until 0530; decide it's not worth the agony of lying here not sleeping; get up) And something about that... I'm thinking about things differently. At some point in the middle of that, I kind of snapped, and said.... "fuck it".
I'd been seriously twisted out of shape about something- something I honestly didn't think I would be able to ever get past. I can deal with, can adjust to, wearing a prosthesis, and the piecemeal sensation I have due to my nerve damage, and the other issues I have, but I honestly didn't believe that I would be able to get over that one thing.
...
Okay, so here we are. It's now about 2 weeks after I started writing this; turns out that there was a MRSA infection in my leg, it's been cleaned out, aaand it looks like I won't be walking for at least a month. Possibly more. Yay!
Anyway, I really do apologize for not writing- things have been a little bit crazy. This leg issue has been dominating my mind since it started, and I'm now actually an admitted "in-patient" in the ward. I was admitted last Thursday afternoon. I was supposed to have an in-and-out surgery Friday, be discharged that evening, but instead I had to have a second surgery on Monday, so they've kept me here.
I'll try to write more; I just honestly keep forgetting that I started posting things on here.
Or 3.
Right when it looks like I'm doing well, and I'm walking everywhere, and I don't have any actual problems... something fucking opens up in my leg. I now have a 4.5cm deep hole in my leg which is steadily draining a clear-ish fluid and blood for about a week and about a half, and walking on it *hurts*.
So right when I was actually picking up some positivity, there it all goes.
... Again.
I hate this.
I don't like complaining, don't like whining- I don't even like admitting that anything is wrong. Thing is, well, an amputated leg isn't exactly something you can hide from a doctor; when you spasm and can't walk from pain, it's hard to play that off; and I've learned that there is absolutely NO way to make things better if I just sit there and don't say anything. If I admit pain, or say that something isn't right, then there is a chance- a small chance, but that's better than *no* chance- that maybe someone will actually try to fix it.
... maybe.
So about two weeks ago, I went off of a medication that was... honestly, it's my least-favorite medicine of all. And I wasn't sleeping- like, at all- for a while. (bed 2130-2230; fall asleep 2330, wake up 0030, sleep, wake up 0200, sleep-wake-sleep-wake until 0530; decide it's not worth the agony of lying here not sleeping; get up) And something about that... I'm thinking about things differently. At some point in the middle of that, I kind of snapped, and said.... "fuck it".
I'd been seriously twisted out of shape about something- something I honestly didn't think I would be able to ever get past. I can deal with, can adjust to, wearing a prosthesis, and the piecemeal sensation I have due to my nerve damage, and the other issues I have, but I honestly didn't believe that I would be able to get over that one thing.
...
Okay, so here we are. It's now about 2 weeks after I started writing this; turns out that there was a MRSA infection in my leg, it's been cleaned out, aaand it looks like I won't be walking for at least a month. Possibly more. Yay!
Anyway, I really do apologize for not writing- things have been a little bit crazy. This leg issue has been dominating my mind since it started, and I'm now actually an admitted "in-patient" in the ward. I was admitted last Thursday afternoon. I was supposed to have an in-and-out surgery Friday, be discharged that evening, but instead I had to have a second surgery on Monday, so they've kept me here.
I'll try to write more; I just honestly keep forgetting that I started posting things on here.
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