Rambling Thirza

I am trying to do my resolutions but my mom is wandering around this office going “Oh crap” and “these are all yours!” and otherwise cleaning and being annoying. OMG! She left! Hurrah! She keeps making piles of my things and giving them to me. Thanks?

I have not seen any weirdness in the basement recently. I feel a bit relieved. No flashing lights, or black blobs, or little men with big cheeks waving like I saw that one day. Whew! But I am still going to make an eye appointment. I might have some genetic eye disease my mom has, which needs to be checked on.

Do you remember Gattaca where they have their life course laid out for them based on their genetics? Sometimes I worry that is where we are heading. They are starting to do more and more dna tests screening for things and I’m wondering when the insurance companies are going to require a screening test.

Personally, I don’t think insurance companies should be allowed to deny someone insurance because of a “pre-existing” medical issue. That’s just fucked, who DOESN’T have a pre-existing condition??? And in the states being a woman is considered a pre-existing medical condition because they don’t want to pay for women’s health issues. Which is ridiculous considering women live longer than men.

Anyway, they are worried about paying for a baby to be born. The insurance companies creep me out!

But back to my eternal quest to be loved.

I got this fortune cookie last night that said “To be loved, be lovable.” I sometimes worry I am not lovable enough. I was really worried when I was first diagnosed with bipolar disorder that I would never have a happy relationship with someone, that I would always be seen as broken and not worth forging a meaningful long term relationship. I used to think it was specifically because I have bipolar disorder that I worried about this, but now I am thinking anyone who is suddenly diagnosed with a life altering medical condition ends up feeling this way.

We are raised to treat partner’s like commodities. There’s this whole idea that there is a “perfect” partner out there who doesn’t fart or have medical issues, who is always healthy and the right amount of sexual and doesn’t need fixing and will be able to read your mind! They don’t exist, in case you are still looking. That being said, I absolutely ABHOR when someone gets together with another person with an eye for fixing them to be this perfect partner that never cries when it makes you uncomfortable and never gets sick. Someone who will suddenly abandon all their family of origin issues and quit drinking for the rest of their lives. It’s kind of creepy to want to change people, especially if one professes to love them for who they are.

Anyway, none of my girlfriends have tried to change me, or if they did I think they failed. But for not trying to change me, I salute them!

Once I was talking about an ex and someone told me they were fucked up. And I was like, well, no, they just had a shitty life, that doesn’t mean someone’s fucked up and should be chucked out with the trash. I hate how as soon as someone has issues they are seen as disposable people. This is especially true when people talk about persons with addiction issues. It’s considered in Canada to be a mental health issue, mental health and addictions are always squished together as services. It makes sense for a few reasons. But it is also interesting to see how the stigma of addiction works in much the same way as the stigma of mental illness. Disposable people.

It’s not a coincidence that many homeless persons suffer from both addiction issues and a mental health issue. Because of all the stigma very few people want to house us. Most of the facilities existing in Saskatoon to get people off the streets are strictly sober living facilities. Even the group homes for persons with mental health issues are all sober living. It SUCKS if you don’t want to live sober. You have no choice but the streets.

But I’m straying from my original intent of this blog, which was to write about my eternal quest for love as one of societies rejects.

Some people don’t realize that persons with mental disability (cwazy folks) are protected from discrimination under Canadian law. They say shit and discriminate to their heart’s content and sometimes (mostly) get away with it because the target doesn’t have the ability to follow through on human rights charges. I’ve had one “friend” I am trying to ditch because he keeps saying fucked up shit to me about my disability. I hope he tries it at work and gets his ass fired for being a bully douchebag!

Anyway, I don’t really want to be with someone who considers me broken for having a mental health issue that has been stable for years. I couldn’t handle being with someone who was that hateful. There’s this thing where bipolar folks often pick another partner who has bipolar. I’m almost drawn to that because then my partner could see where I was coming from. It would make things a lot easier in that respect.

But then there’s also the idea of double trouble if two bipolar people fell in love. But that’s a negative view of it, I think. I’m rambling now.

Arg here comes mum again!

Now she’s telling me I have work to do and she is rubbing her tummy. Go away! Good.

I have about 10 resolutions now, but I am only concentrating on three, flossing, writing, and making two videos. I’ve been terrible at the flossing. And I missed two days of writing. The videos, well, I need some inspiration.

I have a select few women I am secretly considering as possible long term partners. No girlfriend at the moment, I’m not even sexually active right now, but I’m assessing certain women. They are all horribly out of reach right now though, one’s in the hospital and we haven’t even had a date, one’s far far away, and one has had the same boyfriend for years. So even though I think these women are interesting, my chances are actually really slim for settling down with any of them. Which is too bad because all three of them are super cute and smart and seem nice.

Nice is a terrible word for some people. It’s like a diminutive kind of a word that makes them feel less edgy. I like edgy and nice women.

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