First up: Facebook. Better blogs than this have addressed this issue much more eloquently than I can. If you don’t know the story,the short version is this: A while ago, Facebook decided to delete pictures and suspend peoples accounts for posting breastfeeding pictures. Yes, on the basis that it violated their terms of agreement. (For more details check out the League of Maternal Justice, or just google “Facebook Breastfeeding”)
Now, while I stand by the fact that a private company can choose to allow or not to allow whatever they want, really, well, the idea that breastfeeding=porn is, frankly, fucking stupid. And dangerous. Even I think so, and I didn’t do it. And if they are going to say Breastfeeding pics are unacceptable, they should do the same for slutty thong pics and pictures of women in bikinis that show the same amount of skin as is revealed by most breastfeeding.
I didn’t do it. Yes, that’s right, I am an evil child abuser. I admit it. I value my mental health more than I value the possibility of my child being a super healthy genius because I breastfed her. For the record, I did try, every time. It didn’t work and we both spent too much time crying and starving and screaming, (I’ll let you work out who did what there) Also, in case you care, the child I breastfed the longest has the most health and behavior problems. I was the healthiest during her pregnancy, too. Weird how fate works. It just serves to remind us that we really can’t control anything.
But, back to Facebook. So. I had an account I never used, and it was no big deal for me to delete it.
Skip to a few months ago, when a friend of mine convinced me to make another Facebook account. Frankly, I’d all but forgotten about the whole breastfeeding issue, and so, went and remade my account. And wow. Facebook is so much better that Myspace. I really, really really hate Myspace. Also, facebook has flair, and I need to show the world how much of a rebel I am via flare.
I wasn’t really feeling guilty about it, until yesterday when I discovered via the “blogosphere” ( and twittosphere?) that Facebook was fucking doing it again.
Ugh. While I am reluctant to let go of my Facebook account now, mostly due to my awesome flair, I think I am going to dig up one of those old “Facebook sucks” buttons and pop it onto my page.
Because breastfeeding: not porn.
The other day, the kid played with this dinosaur egg thing that I got for something like 49 cents at Target. Theres a whole slew of pictures up on my Flickr, but I really was just so amused by her joy and how proud she was over the whole thing, that I couldn’t not post a picture of it here too.
Speaking of crying, I cried while watching Scrubs last night. WTF is wrong with me?
Scratch that, I know what is wrong with me. The second episode was about a guy facing up to his fears of dying, and then, well, dying. I’ve been thinking about dying far too often lately, which is probably to be expected, (I’m not linking to “The Sick” again, its up there at the top of the page if you need it.)
While The Sick probably won’t kill me anytime soon, it’s pretty likely that I will end my life in a hospital someplace. And, while I know that death is inevitable for everyone, its… hard, dealing with your own mortality.
I’m having a rough time with it all. And thats an understatement. Basically, when I am not distracted, I am crying. And it makes it even harder because my Un-Husband doesn’t know what to do when I get crying about it. So he doesn’t do anything.
Honestly, things have been strained for a few months between us. (some of that having to do with him quitting smoking) We have had several fights over the holidays, some very bad, and some just resulting in me ringing in the New Year alone in my tub, crying. I know we probably need to talk, and work some stuff out but, I just can’t cry or fight anymore. Or explain again how sick *I* am of being sick. I feel like shit, pretty much all of the time, and that’s not likely to stop any time soon. I’m facing stuff and dealing with things, and I don’t really have the energy to handle how hard this all is on him, right now. I know, it’s selfish, but it’s true.
I really really really need to be distracted. I can’t just sit and do nothing. I need to be doing fifty things at once. Because I just can’t cry and feel sorry for myself anymore. I have to DO something. even if it is just.. writing about all this, and talking to people online.
That’s another thing. I think I’d be a much bigger mess right now if it wasn’t for the friends I have made in the past few months. Yes, Internet Friends. I know, they are considered “imaginary friends” by many, but I’d be lost right now without them. I really can’t talk to people in my real life about any of the stuff in my head right now. I can’t handle another playgroup mom asking me in hushed tones “And how ARE you?” I just can’t. I’m tired of having to tell people over and over again, ” No, I am not feeling better, I am never going to GET better.”
But you know what? Online I can laugh and joke and be a normal person. Well, Ok, *I* am never normal, exactly. But still. Here I can joke about my poop collecting and daily vomiting, and there’s none of that pity/awkwardness I am so sick of seeing on peoples faces. It’s keeping me sane right now.
Okay, sorry for writing what is possibly the most depressing post in the universe. Have a xanax and a puppy.