The pain of trying to be subversive

I think I was about 19 when I made the conscious decision to become what I called “eccentric” which somehow changed at around 21 to being something like subversive. Or was it self destructive?? Either way, I committed to spending my twenties doing drugs and having sex and going to sexy/bdsm-y events and making controversial art. I don’t know if I really succeeded at the sex part. I was pretty active in the first little bit of my twenties, but then there was this extended slump through the last majority of that decade. But I was going to be so damned subversive, and I don’t know if I actually managed it. So many of my non-mainstream interests and likes have become mainstream.

It’s particularly weird now to be standing at the Co-Op trying to decide on a type of honey with The Cure or Tori Amos or Joy Division playing over the p.a. system. I suppose I am the generation that grocery stores are catering to because I should have a kid by now according to the state of my fertile uterus. But it is scary to hear beloved music as MUZAK!

Time’s running out for the eggs! I lose at least one once a month, and eventually the rest will be dust, or scooped out when I end up having a hysterectomy like all the other women in my family. Sometimes I wonder if I should freeze a few, just in case you know. I don’t know what’s so special about MY dna over other people’s though. And I figure I will live on past my shelf life when my brain gets donated to science. Some nerdly scientist will discover the keys to bipolar disorder and make a gigantic breakthrough for all future people with this disease. On the other hand I could have a kid with a huge predisposition to bipolar disorder and have to nurse them through the inevitable early major depressions and suicidal ideation. See, now that just seems kind of cruel.

Is donating my brain subversive enough? Maybe I should donate the whole she-bang. Actually I’d really like my body to rot away on it’s own in a facility like the Body Farm. But I don’t know if Canada has a Body Farm. Either way, I’d like some kind of green way of disposing of my body.

But I’m getting away from the main topic of this post. I was actually going to talk about new ways I should consider being subversive. Having a mental illness and actually talking about it is pretty damned subversive. I hate when mental illnesses are considered taboo subjects that one shouldn’t discuss. OMG! I have to take my meds!


Actually it’s not that hard to be subversive when you belong to intersecting groups which are all oppressed for various reasons.

You know, being both First Nations and Queer makes my relationship to organized religions (specifically Christian) really adversarial. Not by my design, it just is. My tribe was colonized by the churches and my queer community is always being targeted by the churches as evil and sinful. I’m not sure anymore what Christianity has to offer me. I was really into it when I was 24 just because it’s symbolism is so ingrained in mainstream North American culture. But it’s not really something I can connect with as well anymore. I think it’s mostly because Christ’s followers have a lengthy history of committing pretty evil acts against people all over the world.

I don’t think I really want to have a religion or specific type of spirituality. I think there is something far grander going on than can be described in English.

It’s still early, on a Sunday, I can’t be expected to make sense on a SUNDAY!

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