“The Master and His Emissary: Conversation with Dr. Iain McGilchrist”

Naomi Klein on Latin America, particularly Venezuela (2007)

Today I’d like to transcribe portions from Naomi Klein’s book The Shock Doctrine: The Rise of Disaster Capitalism (2007). The reason being that I was introduced to this book by a close friend back in 2008 during my more “radical” years which involved both feminism and my 4-year stint volunteering within the local peace community (i.e. Left-leaning political circles). Libertarian-leaning as I’ve always been, still I too was attracted to various messages advanced by the Political Left during my 20s, so here’s one example of information I was presented with back then.

Beginning on page 446:


Despite the attempts of everyone from Pinochet to Cavallo to Berezovsky to Black to portray himself as a victim of baseless political persecution, this list, by no means complete, represents a radical departure from the neoliberal creation myth. The economic crusade managed to cling to a veneer of respectability and lawfulness as it progressed. Now that veneer was being very publicly stripped away to reveal a system of gross wealth inequalities, often opened with the aid of grotesque criminality.

Besides legal trouble, there was another cloud on the horizon. The effects of the shocks that had been so integral to creating the illusion of ideological consensus were beginning to wear off. Rodolfo Walsh, another early casualty, had regarded the Chicago School ascendancy in Argentina as a setback, not a lasting defeat. The terror tactics used by the junta had put his country into a state of shock, but Walsh knew that shock, by its very nature, is a temporary state. Before he was gunned down on the streets of Buenos Aires, Walsh estimated that it would take twenty to thirty years until the effects of the terror receded and Argentines regained their footing, courage and confidence, ready once again to fight for economic and social equity. It was in 2001, twenty-four years later, that Argentina erupted in protest against IMF-prescribed austerity measures and then proceeded to force out five presidents in only three weeks.

I was living in Buenos Aires in that period, and people kept exclaiming, “The dictatorship just ended!” At the time I didn’t understand the meaning behind the jubilation, since the dictatorship had been over for seventeen years. Now I think I do: the state of shock had finally worn off, just as Walsh had predicted.

In the years since, that wide-awake shock resistance has spread to many other former shock labs—Chile, Bolivia, China, Lebanon. And as people shed the collective fear that was first instilled with tanks and cattle prods, with sudden flights of capital and brutal cutbacks, many are demanding more democracy and more control over markets. These demands represent the greatest threat of all to Friedman’s legacy because they challenge his most central claim: that capitalism and freedom are part of the same indivisible project.

The Bush administration remains so committed to perpetuating this false union that, in 2002, it embedded it in the National Security Strategy of the United States of America. “The great struggles of the twentieth century between liberty and totalitarianism ended with a decisive victory for the forces of freedom—a single sustainable model for national success: freedom, democracy and free enterprise.” This assertion, made with the full force of the U.S. military arsenal behind it, was not enough to hold back the tide of citizens using their various freedoms to reject free-market orthodoxy—even in the United States. As a headline in the Miami Herald after the 2006 midterm elections put it, “Democrats won big by opposing free-trade agreements.” A New York Times/CBS poll a few months later found that 64 percent of U.S. citizens believed the government should guarantee health care coverage to all and “showed a striking willingness . . . to make tradeoffs” to achieve that goal, including paying up to $500 a year more in taxes.

On the international stage, the staunchest opponents of neoliberal economics were winning election after election. The Venezuelan president Hugo Chavez, running on a platform of “21st Century Socialism,” was re-elected in 2006 for a third term with 63 percent of the vote. Despite attempts by the Bush administration to paint Venezuela as a pseudodemocracy, a poll that same year recorded that 57 percent of Venezuelans were happy with the state of their democracy, an approval rating on the continent second only to Uruguay’s, where the left-wing coalition party Frente Amplio had been elected to government and where a series of referendums had blocked major privatizations. In other words, in the two Latin American states where voting had resulted in real challenges to the Washington Consensus, citizens had renewed their faith in the power of democracy to improve their lives. In stark contrast to this enthusiasm, in countries where economic policies remain largely unchanged regardless of the promises made during election campaigns, polls consistently track and eroding faith in democracy, reflected in dwindling turnout for elections, deep cynicism toward politicians and a rise in religious fundamentalism.


Pausing there on page 448 and picking back up again on page 453:


In December 2006, a month after Friedman’s death, Latin America’s leaders gathered for a historic summit in Bolivia, held in the city of Cochabamba, where a popular uprising against water privatization had forced Bechtel out of the country several years earlier. Morales began the proceedings with a vow to close “the open veins of Latin America.” It was a reference to Eduardo Galeano’s book Open Veins of Latin America: Five Centuries of the Pillage of a Continent, a lyrical accounting of the violent plunder that had turned a rich continent into a poor one. The book was first published in 1971, two years before Allende was overthrown for daring to try to close those open veins by nationalizing his country’s copper mines. That event ushered in a new era of furious pillage, during which the structures built by the continent’s developmentalist movements were sacked, stripped and sold off.

Today Latin Americans are picking up the project that was brutally interrupted all those years ago. Many of the policies cropping up are familiar: nationalization of key sectors of the economy, land reform, major new investments in education, literacy and health care. These are not revolutionary ideas, but in their unapologetic vision of a government that helps reach for equality, they are certainly a rebuke to Friedman’s 1975 assertion to Pinochet that “the major error, in my opinion, was . . . to believe that it is possible to do good with other people’s money.”

Though clearly drawing on a long militant history, Latin America’s contemporary movements are not direct replicas of their predecessors. Of all the differences, the most striking is an acute awareness of the need for protection from the shocks of the past—the coups, the foreign shock therapists, the U.S.-trained torturers, as well as the debt shocks and currency collapses of the eighties and nineties. Latin America’s mass movements, which have powered the wave of election victories for the left-wing candidates, are learning how to build shock absorbers into their organizing models. They are, for example, less centralized than in the sixties, making it harder to demobilize whole movements by eliminating a few leaders. Despite the overwhelming cult of personality surrounding Chavez, and his moves to centralize power at the state level, the progressive networks in Venezuela are at the same time highly decentralized, with power dispersed at the grass roots and community level, through thousands of neighborhood councils and co-ops. In Bolivia, the indigenous people’s movements that put Morales in office function similarly and have made it clear that Morales does not have their unconditional support: the barrios will back him as long as he stays true to his democratic mandate, and not a moment longer. This kind of network approach is what allowed Chavez to survive the 2002 coup attempt: when their revolution was threatened, his supporters poured down from the shantytowns surrounding Caracas to demand his reinstatement, a kind of popular mobilization that did not happen during the coups of the seventies.

Latin America’s new leaders are also taking bold measures to block any future U.S.-backed coups that could attempt to undermine their democratic victories. The governments of Venezuela, Costa Rica, Argentina and Uruguay have all announced that they will no longer send students to the School of the Americas (now called the Western Hemisphere Institute for Security Cooperation)—the infamous police and military training center in Fort Benning, Georgia, where so many of the continent’s notorious killers learned the latest in “counterterrorism” techniques, then promptly directed them against farmers in El Salvador and auto workers in Argentina. Bolivia looks set to cut its ties with the school, as does Ecuador. Chavez has let it be known that if an extremist right-wing element in Bolivia’s Santa Cruz province makes good on its threats against the government of Evo Morales, Venezuelan troops will help defend Bolivia’s democracy. Rafael Correa is set to take the most radical step of all. The Ecuadorean port city of Manta currently hosts the largest U.S. military base in South America, which serves as a staging area for the “war on drugs,” largely fought in Colombia. Correa’s government has announced that when the agreement for the base expires in 2009, it will not be renewed. “Ecuador is a sovereign nation,” said the minister of foreign relations, Maria Fernanda Espinosa. “We do not need any foreign troops in our country.” If the U.S. military does not have bases or training programs, its power to inflict shocks will be greatly eroded.

The new leaders in Latin America are also becoming better prepared for the kinds of shocks inflicted by volatile markets. One of the most destabilizing forces of recent decades has been the speed with which capital can pick up and move, or how a sudden drop in commodity prices can devastate an entire agricultural sector. But in much of Latin America these shocks have already happened, leaving behind ghostly industrial suburbs and huge stretches of fallow farmland. The task of the region’s new left, therefore, has become a matter of taking the detritus of globalization and putting it back to work. In Brazil, the phenomenon is best seen in the million and a half farmers of the Landless People Movement (MST) who have formed hundreds of cooperatives to reclaim unused land. In Argentina, it is clearest in the movement of “recovered companies,” two hundred bankrupt businesses that have been resuscitated by their workers, who have turned them into democratically run cooperatives. For the cooperatives, there is no fear of facing an economic shock of investors leaving, because the investors have already left. In a way, the reclamation experiments are a new kind of post-disaster reconstruction—reconstruction from the slow-motion disaster of neoliberalism. In sharp contrast to the model offered by the disaster capitalism complex in Iraq, Afghanistan and the Gulf Coast, the leaders of Latin America’s rebuilding efforts are the people most affected by the devastation. And unsurprisingly, their spontaneous solutions look very much like the real third way that had been so effectively shocked out of the way by the Chicago School campaign around the world—democracy in daily life.

In Venezuela, Chavez has made the co-ops a top political priority, giving them first refusal on government contracts and offering them economic incentives to trade with one another. By 2006, there were roughly 100,000 cooperatives in the country, employing more than 700,000 workers. Many are pieces of state infrastructure—toll booths, highway maintenance, health clinics—handed over to the communities to run. It’s a reverse of the logic of large corporations and losing democratic control, the people who use the resources are given the power to manage them, creating, at least in theory, both jobs and more responsive public services. Chavez’s many critics have derided these initiatives as handouts and unfair subsidies, of course. Yet in an era when Halliburton treats the U.S. government as its personal ATM for six years, withdraws upward of $20 billion in Iraq contracts alone, refuses to hire local workers either on the Gulf Coast or in Iraq, then expresses its gratitude to U.S. taxpayers by moving its corporate headquarters to Dubai (with all the attendant tax and legal benefits), Chavez’s direct subsidies to regular people look significantly less radical.

Latin America’s most significant protection from future shocks (and therefore from the shock doctrine) flows from the continent’s emerging independence from Washington’s financial institutions, the result of greater integration among regional governments. The Bolivian Alternative for the Americas (ALBA) is the continent’s retort to the Free Trade Area of the Americas, the now buried corporatist dream of a free-trade zone stretching from Alaska to Tierra del Fuego. Though ALBA is still in its early stages, Emir Sader, the Brazil-based sociologist, describes its promise as “a perfect example of genuinely fair trade: each country provides what it is best placed to produce, in return for what it most needs, independent of global market prices.” So Bolivia provides gas at stable discounted prices; Venezuela offers heavily subsidized oil to poorer countries and shares expertise in developing reserves; and Cuba sends thousands of doctors to deliver free health care all over the continent, while training students from other countries at its medical schools. This is a very different model from the kind of academic exchange that began at the University of Chicago in the mid-fifties, when Latin American students learned a single rigid ideology and were sent home to impose it with uniformity across the continent. The major benefit is that ALBA is essentially a barter system, in which countries decide for themselves what any given commodity or service is worth, rather than letting traders in New York, Chicago or London set the prices for them. That makes trade far less vulnerable to the kind of sudden price fluctuations that devastated Latin American economies in the past. Surrounded by turbulent financial waters, Latin America is creating a zone of relative economic calm and predictability, a feat presumed impossible in the globalization era.

When one country does face a financial shortfall, this increased integration means that it does not need to turn to the IMF or the U.S. Treasury for a bailout. That’s fortunate because the 2006 U.S. National Security Strategy makes it clear that for Washington, the shock doctrine is still very much alive: “If crises occur, the IMF’s response must reinforce each country’s responsibility for its own economic choices,” the document states. “A refocused IMF will strengthen market institutions and market discipline over financial decisions.” This kind of “market discipline” can only be enforced if governments actually go to Washington for help—as Stanley Fischer explained during the Asian financial crisis, the IMF can help only if it is asked, “but when [a country is] out of money, it hasn’t got many places to turn.” That is no longer the case. Thanks to high oil prices, Venezuela has emerged as a major lender to other developing countries, allowing them to do an end run around Washington.

The results have been dramatic. Brazil, so long shackled to Washington by its enormous debt, is refusing to enter into a new agreement with the IMF. Nicaragua is negotiating to quit the fund, Venezuela has withdrawn from both the IMF and the World Bank, and even Argentina, Washington’s former “model pupil,” has been part of the trend. In his 2007 State of the Union address, President Nestor Kirchner said that the country’s foreign creditors had told him,” “‘You must have an agreement with the International Fund to be able to pay the debt.’ We say to them, ‘Sirs, we are sovereign. We want to pay the debt, but no way in hell are we going to make an agreement again with the IMF.'” As a result, the IMF, supremely powerful in the eighties and nineties, is no longer a force on the continent. In 2005, Latin America made up 80 percent of the IMF’s total lending portfolio; in 2007, the continent represented just 1 percent—a sea change in only two years. “There is life after the IMF,” Kirchner declared, “and it’s a good life.”


Stopping on page 457.

My thoughts follow. To start off with, I continue to have mixed feelings over such material, more so now than ever before, because I do take issue with the policies of the IMF and am aware and critical of Big Corporate excesses. There remains truth in concerns over externalized costs and the ongoing pursuit of cheap labor and cheap resources extracted from nations where few alternatives are available. One could argue, as my stepdad and others do, that these examples of corporate outsourcing for production of products brings much-needed money to these communities and provides more opportunities than they otherwise would have. Yes, but what is to become of them when these plants up and leave, headed for other locations where even cheaper labor pools and/or resources can be had? Appears to leave economic devastation in their wake, which we can also see in the U.S. where communities depended on businesses that moved their operations to China or Mexico (as occurred in my own hometown down South). Sufficient alternatives don’t tend to spring up in the vacuum left behind, leading to a rise in economic and social problems in those areas, which can then turn political. I remain perplexed over what can be done about this, though I grasp that simply shrugging our shoulders and expecting people to make do with what little is left isn’t much of an answer. But neither is trying to implement a communistic/socialistic model instead since that too will prove unstable, and likely even more so.

This conundrum has left me frustrated since either way we turn it appears we’re damned. Though capitalism offers the most promise out of the modern models we’re presented with, corporatism that has arisen out of it is proving extremely alienating and inhuman. As in it forces humans to adapt to it, yet it cannot adapt to serve the needs of humans. Globalized corporatism adheres to a different set of values than do most human beings, which then stokes strife that often enough does result in political upheaval on down the road. Somehow this matter must be addressed, yet neither leaders on the political Left or Right are willing (or able) to do so. What Naomi Klein refers to as “neoliberalism” is often enough used interchangeably with the term “neoconservatism” and is embraced by both major political parties in the U.S. For whatever differences may be ascribed to these two terms, what they each fundamentally share in common is political fusion with global (multinational) corporate and banking agendas. And it’s that unto itself a lot of us out here continue to take issue with.

Now, was Naomi Klein’s book biased? Yes it was. She put her own political spin on events based on her Leftist political outlook. Certainly can’t claim her to be politically neutral, independent, or nonpartisan in her delivery there. And I understand that nowadays in a way I didn’t 10 years ago. Everybody’s got an agenda, or so it seems. So let’s look at a current news stories on how Venezuela is faring these days.

An article from The Guardian (Jan. 21, 2018) titled “‘We loot or we die of hunger’: food shortages fuel unrest in Venezuela“:

Angry about empty supermarket shelves and soaring prices, some people are breaking into warehouses, ransacking food trucks and invading outlying farms.

During the first 11 days of January the Venezuelan Observatory for Social Conflict, a Caracas rights group, recorded 107 episodes of looting and several deaths in 19 of Venezuela’s 23 states.


There have been previous incidents of looting but analysts fear that the current wave could linger amid the Venezuela’s economic freefall.

President Nicolás Maduro blames the country’s woes on an “economic war” against his government by rightwingers and foreign interests.

But his critics say his government has disrupted domestic food production by expropriating farms and factories. Meanwhile, price controls designed to make food more widely available to poorer people have had the opposite effect: many prices have been set below the cost of production, forcing food producers out of business.

Meanwhile the government has less cash to import food because of its mismanagement of the oil sector, where production has fallen to a 29-year low. Hyperinflation and the collapse of the currency have put the prices of foodstuffs available on the black market beyond the reach of many families.

But rather than reforming the economy, the government has resorted to handouts and far-fetched schemes.

So somewhere along the way that experiment obviously failed, and within a mere decade of when Naomi Klein’s book hit shelves. What are we to make of this? Seems to me that while relying on the IMF indeed proved problematic, so did switching over instead to a socialist scheme.

To be delved in deeper at a later date…

Monday evening journaling in frigid February

Had a snowstorm today that caused half of my appointments to be cancelled. So go winters in the Midwest. Wound up taking me over 3 hours to go where I needed to, dodging around all the cars spinning their tires in the middle of the road or in snowbanks along the side. Didn’t have my snow shovel on me so I couldn’t be of much use to any of them. Pretty dangerous to get out and try to push vehicles since other cars can slide on the snow and ice and wind up running into you. That actually happened to my second cousin decades ago, though not due to snow — he was just trying to help someone push their car that died when another car rounded the bend and struck him, pinning his leg and resulting in it having to be amputated. Tragic accident. Makes one think carefully about offering help to vehicles stuck in the middle of the road (most especially at night and on a winding country road as in his case).

Another tragic accident: I knew a girl several years back whose aunt and uncle were traveling up north after I believe coming down to attend a funeral. Icy conditions led to several cars piling up on the freeway, including theirs. Her aunt was injured so her uncle exited the car to go around to her side to try to help her, and that’s when another car slid into him. Killed him.

In short, these are reasons why I don’t play in traffic, especially in dangerous weather conditions. People up here who’ve lived here all their lives ought to have the sense to put snow tires on their vehicles. Helps tremendously. Hence why I never get stuck anymore. Used to get stuck all over town, having to shovel myself out everywhere I went. But no more. Now I cruise around the rest who are spinning in place and go about my business. I occasionally stop to try to help, but they better be in dire straits (because of examples outlined above). Taking a big risk exiting your vehicle on roadways on days like today. Was a clusterfuck all around town. Cars in the ditch every few blocks. You would think people who didn’t absolutely have to come out in such conditions would’ve stayed their tails at home, but alas, no. For some reason the roads were completely packed, seemingly more than usual even. And I’m not aware of any event going on to draw so many out.

Anyway, I headed home as soon as I could, leaving them to their demolition derby. Been inside since the afternoon, keeping warm. Cooked a spaghetti bake dinner that turned out well. Lots of garlic and also added zucchini to it, served with a side of green beans. Took a nice bubble bath and then trimmed my hair, all while listening to Eric and Bret Weinstein chatting on the Rubin Report.

Sipping coffee now and preparing my nails for re-polishing. Just trying to take it easy these days, still adjusting to the shifts in my personal life. Haven’t spoken to Former in a week, nor have either of us attempted to reach out to one another. And that’s good. It’s for the best.

Did stop by that local bar last night where I had my issues over a week back. Wanted to apologize to the bartender lady in case I acted a fool. Can’t remember, but I assumed I had. But she said no, that I actually wasn’t the problem that night. That real-life troll asshole I can’t stand started lacing into me, calling me every name in the book once he got past a certain level of drunkenness, and she tried checking him. I recall none of it since I had a lot to drink that evening (hence why I quit drinking and am back on the wagon ever since — that night being outside of my new norm). Was good to know that I wasn’t a problem child in there though. She said she and I had been outside smoking cigarettes and that as soon as we stepped back inside he just went off on me. Sounds like the douche. He’s a real thorn in my ass and has been for over a year now. Just a super insecure older guy who can’t stand to be ignored, and I have absolutely no time for him. I ignore and avoid him, and that apparently just irritates the hell out of him until he’s too fubar to not share his thoughts with the room. Hence why I avoid him. He’s a shitty drunk who’s a dumb jerk normally with nothing going for him except superficial charm. Treats his ex-girlfriend the same way in there, and I now hear he’s taken to lacing into a few other women the same way. Short guy with a bad attitude who surely wouldn’t run his mouth like that to another man, but he’ll talk big shit to women. Ugh.

Anyway, I was just in there for an orange juice and to clear the air with her. And he wasn’t there yesterday so it all went fine. Had run into another bartender lady who works there at a separate lounge I was at with a galpal the day before, and she alerted me that the rumor mill informed her that he and I had a fight that night. Like I said, I don’t remember it. And when she approached me, after having heard about the ordeal secondhand, she let me know I was welcome back in there and that she wouldn’t let him talk that shit while she’s working, which was nice of her. He’s such a permanent fixture in that place to where I rarely go in anymore (maybe only 2-3 times since I quit drinking last summer). Not interested in being harassed for no reason by a guy holding a grudge over god knows what. He was a dick to me back in the day, so I learned to leave him alone. I quit even being cordial because he kept being verbally abusive toward me, though that has continued regardless. Why? Because he’s a major alcoholic with problems in his life, all of which he created but won’t face. And I know all about his problems, so he probably doesn’t like me around since I serve as a reminder of someone who knows what a loser he actually is. Doesn’t matter that I’m silent toward him and let him be — he can’t let me be. Why would a 52-year-old man behave like that? I assume because his life is just that empty and pointless. Otherwise he wouldn’t sit up in the bar half the day, everyday, wasting money he doesn’t have, further wrecking his already-declining health, berating women who don’t want to talk to him.

There’s a little bit of history there dating back about 1.5 years. Made the mistake of hanging out with the guy for about a month or so in the summer of 2016. Worst decision I made. But I was lonely at the time and my former partner was trying to date other people, so I went with it. And in short order it didn’t work out. He and I had absolutely nothing in common besides drinking, and as already stated he’s a really shitty drunk once past a certain point. Truly am embarrassed I ever gave that man the time of day back then. But, on the upside, one good thing about meeting him is he has served as a potent cautionary tale on what not to become. As in, if you kept drinking like you did you risked becoming someone like that over time. And that’s all he is to me anymore and all he has been since we parted ways over a year back — an example of what not to do.

So I ignore him if I see him. For whatever reason he can’t stand that, so I tend to steer clear of that establishment since I’m not fond of being yelled at and called a whore and a slut just for being in the vicinity when he’s had a few too many.

Thankfully most drunks aren’t that bad. Or else I would’ve given up on bars long ago. My goal in life at this point is to be the opposite of that guy.

Anyway, mentioned I met with a galpal a couple days ago. She texted me on Friday so we met on Saturday and had dinner. Caught up on what’s been going on and have plans to start mall-walking again beginning next week. She struggles with her weight and wants to start working on getting it down again, and I can always use more exercise myself. That will give us each something to do a couple evenings a week. Will be good for me to get out more. Still haven’t returned to the gym yet. Difficult to feel up to it when it’s this cold and snowy out. But soon enough…

Played cards with a couple other ladies on Sunday afternoon at a coffee house. Learned the card game Golf for the first time. Was fun.

Planning on attending a meetup group this Sunday. Believe it’s an atheist luncheon. Might as well. Probably good for me to get out and try to socialize with new people instead of spending so much time in this apartment. Winters here can be pretty isolating, especially when you’re trying to change your lifestyle and aren’t exactly sure where new to go.

Am planning to re-listen to Marcus Aurelius’ Meditations in audio format while out and about this week. Will also be ordering new audiobooks in a couple of days, though not sure which ones yet. Considering checking out Murray Stein’s Jung’s Map of the Soul since there’s a local discussion group that’s reading it and meeting at the library once a month. Also contemplating getting Noah Levine’s Dharma Punx.

A glimpse into Stephen King

Another lazy evening perusing on Twitter and Youtube, taking it easy. It’s cold as hell outside, and there’s nowhere to be until tomorrow. Sipping seltzer water like usual, watching the wheels go ’round and ’round. Which I need to do. Polished my nails. Re-watched one of Kevin Hart’s comedy specials (after first watching Dr. Jordan Peterson’s latest appearance on Joe Rogan’s channel). Baked brownies last night and handed them off to my neighbors this morning. Hopefully they like their new home. Liked having them as neighbors.

The gossip of the day: Stephen King came out typing shit about “karma” in regards to that train full of Republicans crashing into a garbage truck in Virginia. Killed the man in the truck who one source claims was 28 years old. Seriously injured another person. Sad state of affairs there, and then King wants to be crass about it. Pretty harsh, man. Especially coming from a guy who himself was run over by a van years back. Heard all about it in his memoir On Writing, purchased a year or so ago. Followed that with his book The Running Man, which I really liked (leading us to rent the film by the same title which turned out nothing like the book and sucked). Re-watched part of the movie Misery around Christmas time and even went to the theater with a friend a while back to see the new rendition of the movie It (which we didn’t care for, though I remember the original being terrifying back in the day). Grew up reading his books, from Cujo to Gerald’s Game, and watching a few movies based on his books.

So I’ve had Stephen King on my mind from time to time. Moved on to books by other authors (mostly nonfiction) for much of my adult years until randomly stumbling across his book Desperation at Walmart during my last visit to Mississippi in 2016. Proved entertaining enough.

No question that he’s a talented author, but I’ve never been a fan of his politics.

On a slight side-note, I recall watching a talk between King and John Grisham a year or more back where King’s demeanor struck me as kinda off-putting:

Is it my imagination or does the man ooze with a sense of superiority? Snooty and goofy, if you ask me.

Anyway, knowing what I know by now, it really shouldn’t surprise me that Stephen King would pop off a tweet like that.

That’s Stephen King in the raw. Can admire his craft but still think his personality sucks. Stuck in his own bubble.

Sad what political ideologies can do to people. Makes one wonder who a person might’ve otherwise been had they not gotten drunk on the asshole kool-aid.

“Joe Rogan Experience #1070 – Jordan Peterson”

What I’m listening to tonight:

Tuesday night journaling in late January

OK. Going to try this again today since my earlier entry was a bit too personal and therefore needed to be marked private.

Keeping it simple, I’ll just say this. My worry over the “relapse” last Thursday wore down and I no longer am as concerned about seeking outside help, at least so far as AA is concerned. It’s not that difficult to keep the alcohol out of my mouth (having made it over 7 months since the last time I drank and am right back to leaving it alone again), and my knotted stomach days later continues alerting me that it felt abused. That was a glitch, a momentary bad idea that I take full responsibility for, and it had a bad outcome (that shouldn’t be too surprising). Certainly not as bad as it could’ve been, though, thank god. Not worth playing Russian roulette with it, as I full well know already. I’m going to chalk that up to one bad decision in 7.5 months of sobriety and simply carry on with my plan to keep alcohol out of my mouth. Might not always be easy, but it is simple.

If I feel the need to reach out for external help, I will do so. Nothing is off the table in that respect. But my fear has abated and I recognize the situation for what it was. It feels like a showdown with “the devil” because indeed that is essentially what it is. And so be it. Hanging out with a bunch of recovering alcoholics doesn’t sound like the smartest way to confront that problem though.

One reason being that I texted this guy I met a couple years ago who had a horrible drinking problem and finally went to AA (he preferred the atheist meeting that is held downtown) and got sober. Good for him. We talked about all of that back then, and then we lost contact over time. I reached out to him the other day, while I was lying around on my comfy sack trying to recover from Thursday’s shenanigans, to ask if he is still off the booze. Unfortunately the answer is no. Said he made it 19 months and however many days. Said he broke his ankle a few months back and wound up moving back to his hometown and is now back to drinking with no desire to quit again anytime soon. Hmm. That’s disappointing since that guy was a poster-child for someone who needs to lay off of alcohol. The stories he used to tell me were disturbing, and I witnessed enough firsthand from him, which is largely what ended our interacting. So…that’s a bummer. And that guy was avidly on board with AA back before.

Not saying AA doesn’t work, just noting another example where someone in that program returned to the drinking lifestyle. Not exactly wanting to subject myself to making friends with people who are going to fall off the bandwagon and return to boozing. Strikes me as counterproductive, like it would be better to instead meet people who don’t have drinking problems. Because I have no desire to return to that lifestyle. It’s frickin’ suicide in my view, and so many of the people who’ve succumbed to that way of life for many years are bound to return to it. I intend to be an exception, and will be. Unless (or until) I grow old and get cancer, then all bets are off.

It’s not a lifestyle for someone wishing to live and make productive use of their years on this planet. Leave it for the hospice cases.

Heard too much negative stuff about AA. Though I’m willing to read their literature online and acquaint myself more deeply with their ideas espoused. Just don’t think hanging around with a bunch of its members is the best gameplan for me personally. I’d rather go it alone primarily. Social support can come by way of friends and family.

The counselor lady I used to see and sent an email to over the weekend has yet to respond. So I’m starting to think she doesn’t work at that clinic any longer. Might look her up to see if she’s practicing elsewhere in town. If not, I may consider arranging a visit with a therapist who specializes in addictions, since it might be good to gain more insight from a professional perspective. Maybe. We’ll see.

I’m not one to trust the mental health field much, but that’s just me. My Papa licked this addiction on his own, as have plenty of others, so I know it can be done. It’s one day at a time regardless. But I have so much anger and frustration toward that time in my life and the barscene as a whole (and my idiocy within it) that it’s not tempting to return to. Thursday night was the result of a self-destructive impulse to block out other pain in my personal life, which didn’t do a damn bit of good and only left me feeling far worse afterward, as to be expected.

As for my personal life… Former has fully moved on to this new lady and has announced her as his girlfriend. I’ve given him my blessing on that when we spoke at length yesterday. Undeniably an odd and crazy dynamic between us two. But now he gets to move on in this new relationship, and I told him I’d prefer to hear fewer details in moving forward. Their personal business is and should be their own. He’ll have to turn to other friends for those types of conversations. Yes, I asked some questions, and now I’ve heard enough. We intend to remain in contact, though less frequently, and I plan to reduce that further as time goes on. Because I really need to care for myself right now, having already devoted the last 7 years to our chaos. I’m admittedly a little miffed about a couple things he cared to share last night that I thought were attempts to rub salt in my wound, plus he confessed to lying to me on one matter, which was irritating. What’s going on with him? I’m not entirely sure. But either way,  we’re headed in separate directions now. I wish him all the luck and want the best for him, and he says the same for me. And we will remain friends, albeit at a much further distance.

So, it’s been an interesting new year thus far in that respect. All of this was inevitable and I accept it. Is for the best. That man and I cannot communicate effectively with one another to save our lives, and that gets to become her problem now. Don’t mean that to sound bitter, but damn. I deserve to purge our drama out of my system, and so I am. Not feeling sad any longer, though I will undoubtedly continue missing him a bit since we spent so much time together. But it’s also a relief quite frankly. Been on this carousel long enough. Wayyy past feeling disoriented and nauseous. He’s not a bad person, nor am I; we just had a ton of problems and weren’t suited for one another romantically, as we began figuring out long ago. I look forward to experiencing less stress in the coming months, as I’m sure he does as well. Those two already have a vacation scheduled in the spring, so I’m sure she can keep him entertained over in her corner at least long enough for me to work this attachment out of my system in case they don’t work out and he gets to thinking he can come back to me until he meets the next one. Nope. No more of that will be tolerated. Hurts too much to deal with that yo-yo bullshit.

And then I basically blogged the same damn thing I marked private earlier. Ugh. Oh well. This has been my life. Won’t claim to be thrilled with all that’s been going on (actually quite the opposite), but there it is. I’m a little over half a year into giving up alcohol (aside from last week’s reckless outing), and then I got to start off this new year saying goodbyes to my ex-boyfriend whom I’ve gone through the longest breakup in recorded history with. Was a unique relationship, to say the least. But I am actually very glad that both of these phases in my life have come to an end and that now I am free to head elsewhere. It’s all an adjustment though. Was pretty sad for a couple weeks there, but c’est la vie. This is the best timing for this to occur, and we both knew this day would come eventually. He sounds very happy and excited, and she sounds like a decent person, so far as we know. So, good for him. And that’s that.

Turned my attention to cleaning some in my apartment today after work and resumed re-listening to Mark Manson’s audiobook The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck. Didn’t make it to the gym this afternoon since my left foot still hurts, but soon enough. Later I began listening to Kevin Hart’s audiobook I Can’t Make This Up: Life Lessons while out at a little Chinese buffet that I enjoy.

Am supposed to bake brownies for my neighbors who are moving out on Thursday, which I may do later tonight once the dishwasher finishes up.

It will be quieter around here, but that’s okay. I need some time to myself right about now.

Mid-December update

Been holed up over here, not interacting much online this week before tonight. Got busy with Christmas shopping (nearly all of which is completed now) and otherwise laying low. Had a good bit on my mind lately and am keeping much of it to myself. Recorded a few videos back in November and early December that I’ve yet to edit and upload. May get around to it eventually. Especially since I’ve now hit the 6-month mark in quitting drinking. Yay me. Though I haven’t missed it much, nor the bar patrons I used to waste time with. Cravings still come and go, as they perhaps always will, but nothing overwhelming.

Haven’t been to the gym this entire past week. Was pretty darn cold out, so I got lazy after finishing work. Plus my knees are strained. And the left ankle’s weak again. Maybe it’s developing arthritis…

Took my car into to Sears auto shop last week and it wound up taking them over 2.5 hours to just put my snow tires on, even with the appointment booked days in advance and me standing around waiting with a friend to get my car back. That shop’s gone to hell. After they messed up my car’s rack during a previous unrelated job, I no longer trust them to do anything more than mount my tires, and they can barely even do that right, come to find out. Probably should re-tighten my lugnuts just to be on the safe side.

That’s been my main gripe lately. Otherwise I had been in a pretty decent mood. Kind of unusual for Christmas time, having not been in the spirit the last several years. Though now that I’m feeling somewhat chipper I’ve noticed that practically everybody else out roaming around town seem to be pissed off. Bunch of grumps in the grocery store, at Target, in traffic, at the UPS store, etc. To that I say that folks should take a break off of celebrating the holidays then. We’re not mandated to do so. If it stresses you out so severely, then say to hell with it for a year or two. Maybe only sends cards for a change. Doesn’t make much sense to wear ourselves ragged over a holiday, especially since it’s become little more than a commercial ploy these days.

Audiobooks that I’ve been listening to lately are Hillbilly Elegy: A Memoir of a Family and Culture in Crisis by J.D. Vance (as already mentioned elsewhere on this blog); The Quest For Cosmic Justice by Thomas Sowell (HIGHLY recommend that one!); The Running Man by Stephen King; three books in Lois McMasters Bujold’s Vorkosigan series: Shards of Honor, Barrayar, and The Warrior’s Apprentice; Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking-Glass by Lewis Carroll (narrated by Alison Larkin — she sounded like a chipmunk, causing me to miss nearly every third word, but I’d already listened to the story long ago — not sure why I felt the desire to re-listen to this); The Hacking of the American Mind: The Science Behind the Corporate Takeover of Our Bodies and Brains by Robert H. Lustig; Ego is the Enemy by Ryan Holiday; and currently I am listening to Future Crimes: Everything Is Connected, Everyone Is Vulnerable and What We Can Do About It by Marc Goodman (and loving it — would definitely recommend it to others, though I doubt most people I know could sit through it since its information is rather alarming for those unfamiliar with current technological threats and those on the horizon — think “internet of things”).

What else? Purchased a bunch of baking supplies and am planning to share brownies and cookies with some of my clients and friends this season. Been putting together little treat bags for some special animals in my life. Finally ordered Grandma some cookies Saturday morning (with free shipping — woohoo! Having already spent over $50 at UPS this week.). Bought lots of thick, warm socks since those are always needed in the winter. Pretty pricey too.

Cooked myself keto “mac” and cheese three days ago and have been enjoying the leftovers. Basically broccoli and cauliflower with a homemade cheese sauce, and I also poached some chicken tenders to add to the mix. Plus a side of roasted brussels sprouts. All very tasty. After two weeks of carb bingeing I figured this meal was in order. Continue reading

More on the book “Hillbilly Elegy: A Memoir of a Family and Culture in Crisis”

Wrapping up my thoughts on the audiobook Hillbilly Elegy: A Memoir of a Family and Culture in Crisis by J.D. Vance tonight, seeing as how I meant to get to this last week when I completed listening to it. Did enjoy its content throughout and would recommend the book to others.

I experienced what might be considered a sense of kinship while reading his story. Like that of a distant cousin. My family migrated to the South, and his headed to Appalachia and then Ohio. They sound like similar types of people, having originated from Scotland, Ireland, and elsewhere in northern England, so the culture he described is fairly relatable. Was glad to hear of his acceptance into Yale Law School, though admittedly much of what he described there sounded pretty foreign to me too. I also hadn’t realized that some of the most expensive and prestigious schools could be the most cost-effective for low-income students due to grants and whatnot.

There was a part in the latter portion of the book where he was talking about his mother and recognized that her ability to act like a monster was in him too. That resonated with me deeply. It’s amazing how many similarities we can share with those we think are crazy, especially when we were raised by them. And the culture reinforcing such behaviors certainly doesn’t help. He spoke of learning to keep his indignation in check and not being so reactive to perceived disrespects from others. Yep, that’s a tough lesson that undoubtedly requires ongoing grappling with.

But I felt proud for the author after listening to his book. Almost like how I’d feel toward a cousin who’s moving up in the world (as my own cousin actually is, graduating with a Master’s degree in spring of 2018—a first in our lineage—and we’re very proud of him too). It’s a humbling story to sit with and consider and one I’d like others to spend time with as well. Vance is right about a lot of things he mentioned there, particularly in regards to personal responsibility and accountability (which he learned about while serving as a marine). My own family has very mixed feelings about the military too. But I suppose it’s good at least in terms of instilling self-discipline.

I’ll admit, listening to this book made me realize, once again, just how class-conscious I am and apparently can’t help but be. Struggle with it as I might, it still remains ingrained. And maybe that’s largely due to socialization and culture, but I also don’t doubt a good bit of it comes via interactions. Difficult to shake that sense of “us and them” once it’s deeply taken hold. Almost like a defense mechanism where you can’t help but maintain this sense of tribal pride out of loyalty and as well as to stand up for your own people in the face of a society that likes to make fun of them and speak as if they’re unwanted and disposable, ignorant and backwards. I don’t think any amount of climbing the socioeconomic ladder can fully erase that either — your roots are what they are. Money doesn’t nullify that fact.

One point that I’m stuck on and have been waiting to address on here is the forgiveness he chose to show his mother. While I can understand the desire to do so and wish him well with that, I can’t personally endorse the idea in all cases. Sure, it’s the Christian thing to do (so we’ve been taught), but then there are concerns about enabling bad behaviors. Some people won’t change until the costs of not doing so become so great that they must, and others won’t change regardless. Maybe one important difference here is that Vance spoke of how much anger he had earlier in life toward his mother, whereas later on he came to feel sympathy for her. My own experience was just the opposite, having grown up with a great deal of sympathy toward mine the first 20 years of life, then figuring out that tough love was in order if I was ever to escape her bullshit. Then I got really angry. Nowadays I oscillate between irritated sympathy, frustration, and acceptance (in the last step in the grieving process-sort-of-way). It’s not a matter simply of what’s easiest, it’s about sanity preservation. Some people are toxic, for whatever reasons, and they either don’t see it in themselves or won’t. Either way, they’re unlikely to change if they can’t come to terms with the harm they’ve done and continue to do to those close to them. Sad but true. Not that I would encourage others one way or the other on these matters — that’s for each individual to decide for him or herself. But when he mentioned his mother getting onto heroin around the time he graduated…ugh…my heart sank for him. Some folks are inclined to chase pain, to recreate it and keep it rolling onward. And it’s very difficult, if not impossible, to achieve a healthy relationship with someone hellbent in that sort of fashion. Much as it may be tough to accept, considering these are family members. But we each figure that out however we do, or perhaps the situation might change for the better over time. One can pray, and I do hope that’s the case for Vance’s family.

This man’s story did strike me as sad in places, though I’m glad he too had the love of grandparents to help pull him through. His Memaw sounded like quite a character. The people he described therein reminded me of various persons I’ve known over time as well, to whatever degrees. I appreciate that he was willing to be so brutally honest, sharing both the positive and negatives sides to their personalities. Because we’re all a complex blend of right and wrong, well-intending and misguided, ignorant and insightful. I feel he really brought his family members to life in the pages, which isn’t an easy feat. Kudos on a book well written!

Anyway, I’ve said enough on all this. Tripped down my own memory lane quite enough also. I’ll leave off in saying again that this is a book very much worth reading or listening to.

Book of interest: “Hillbilly Elegy: A Memoir of a Family and Culture in Crisis” (my thoughts)

Today I began listening to the audiobook Hillbilly Elegy: A Memoir of a Family and Culture in Crisis by J.D. Vance and am currently on chapter 10, putting it on pause until tomorrow. Definitely speaks to my own spirit and life experiences, both directly and indirectly among people I knew.

To begin with, rarely have I heard of anybody else referring to a Memaw and Peppa. That’s what my stepdad’s parents were known as too. Memaw Allen we called her, and Peppa Pete we called him. Weird to write down those names now since I’ve long since switched to referred to them as simply Mr. and Mrs. Allen, having effectively divorced myself from accepting them as kin since back in my teenage years.

J.D. Vance’s description of his Appalachian Kentucky-rooted family shares similarities with what I’m familiar with in my section of the Deep South, though notable differences as well. Enough similarities though that his story really is resonating with me, reminding me very much of various family members, particularly my Papa (my maternal grandpa, not to be confused with Pepa Pete mentioned prior). Though I’d say that my own people tend to be a bit more conservative both in mannerism and political affiliation, as well as religious involvement. Interesting to observe the overlap between our two camps, not that it should be too surprising considering we share historical ethnic heritages (Scottish primarily). His people and my people came originally from the same regions of the United Kingdom at roughly the same time, belonging to the same socioeconomic class as well. Some went to Appalachia whereas others populated deeper parts of the South. The rowdiness he described there among his people is reminiscent of that which was described by Dr. Thomas Sowell in his book Black Rednecks and White Liberals, which also resonated with me. But the differences are worth noting here. He spoke of his people being Christian yet rarely attending church services, whereas many of my people remain lifelong active in their churches. He tells of his people voting Democrat because they were union folks and associated that political party with being for the working men, while my people viewed the Conservative political party as more beneficial for the working class, if only because they viewed government encroachment on their lives as doing more harm than good more often than not. Though I can see the commonality in the underlying political sentiments despite our camps belonging on opposite sides of the political divide, most markedly in their distrust of getting the Law involved in their personal affairs and vying to align themselves with the political party least likely to screw them and theirs over (though it appears we’ve all failed in that regard, both political parties demonstrating over time that they don’t give much of a damn about the working class aside from paying lip service to gain votes).

Parts of the book struck me as very funny, particularly when he described his grandparents hillbilly ways and inability (and/or unwillingness) to adjust to the established middle class norms and expectations in Ohio where they migrated to in search of jobs and an escape from Appalachian poverty. My Papa shared a lot in common with his people, from the gruff talk to the gun-toting, as well as the years of drinking and the damage that did to his family. But also the defiant pride and desire for your children and grandchildren to go to college so as not to have to work in laboring jobs like he and others in his generation had to. So much Vance said on all of that had me tripping down memory lane about my home county in Mississippi and various family members and neighbors. But we’re not hillbillies since we never resided in hill country — we were rednecks. Though I suppose to outside onlookers we all appeared to simply be “white trash” (a pejorative I do not like or accept being applied to my people).

Our stories differed in important ways, such as my mother thankfully not subjecting us to a carousel of husbands and boyfriends (to which I give credit to my stepdad for working with her as much as he did expressly to ensure that did not happen). And my mother never became a drinker nor a drug user (prescription or otherwise). Was just crazy in her own right, though not necessarily in a uniquely Southern/redneck fashion (we speculate it being due to brain damage likely experienced early in life during a car accident). But I knew those kind of people too. And I also wound up being raised largely by my grandparents and proved better off as a result thanks to the stability that offered. I also grew up hearing rough stories of violence and abuse, including episodes between my grandparents back when Papa was drinking. I can also understand the feistiness  among women that he described, though my own female family members tended to be a little more reserved about it than his. Among my people it was less acceptable for women to smoke and drink and curse like the men did, though some did anyway (myself included). And even among the men it wasn’t viewed as positive attributes to do so, the only exception being when they channeled their aggressive tendencies in the service for protecting the family. There is especially where I saw the women behave like junkyard dogs themselves, because all bets are off when it comes to defending one’s own. It’s a matter of pride and protecting, checking disloyalty and disrespect. And yes, it can go too far and wind up creating total chaos in some circumstances, which I myself have had to discover the hard way in my own behavior and reactions.

Perhaps that’s the biggest difference I noted there between our camps of people: self-control. Not that mine are terrific at maintaining self-control, but it’s definitely prized among them in many social situations. Because they deem it necessary for moving up in this world, though they too expressed feeling conflicted about it when it came to accepting poor treatment from others. There’s an underlying resentment toward those who look down upon you, who see you as nothing more than a member of a downtrodden class not worth much and treat you accordingly, leading to the manifestation of a great deal of class-related distrust (which I too continue to struggle with). On one hand they want you to do well in school so as to have greater opportunities, but on the other they don’t want you to get “too big for your britches” and forget where you come from and who helped you along the way. It does create a bit of cognitive dissonance within us to come up with so many contradictory messages. Want your daughter to marry well but then resent the man she does marry because he’s some highfalutin academic who doesn’t really with the rest of the family. Kind of sets up a no-win situation in a way. But that’s the way it goes. Probably has something to do with why I prefer to date working-class men — feels like there’s too much of a social divide between myself and my people and folks of middle-class origins for a romantic partnership to likely prove workable long-term.

In chapter 7 where J.D. Vance spoke of his Pepa dying, it really pulled at my heart strings. Especially when he stated that his Pepa died on a Tuesday and how that Lynyrd Skynyrd song “Tuesday’s Gone” played on the radio afterward. Was out walking in a neighborhood while listening to that part and had to turn off the audiobook so as to compose myself. Breaks my heart to hear of someone losing such an important father-figure while they’re still so young, he only being in his early teens by then. My Papa died 6 years ago when I was 29 and I still can’t barely talk about it without crying. Just can’t. Losing the big man in one’s life is a tragedy we don’t easily recover from apparently. In J.D. Vance’s case, it was so sudden with no warning, which is really sad. My Papa had cancer so we knew he was going down for a year and a half and tried to prepare ourselves for it, so much as one is truly able to do so. And I can understand how one wrestles with the memory of someone so important to them who also happened to have had drama with others in the family, largely due to his own doing through drinking and acting wrongly. You love him so much, and yet you can’t pretend he was perfect. We’re lucky in that our grandpas did change over time, they did both quit drinking (his in 1983, I believe he said; mine in 1990) and they sought to become better people toward their loved ones so as to find some sort of redemption. I think there’s a lot to learn from life stories like that, demonstrating that many people we consider good and valuable had to make a conscience effort to become that over time. They weren’t necessarily born that way, or their life experiences didn’t incline them toward a more noble direction originally. They had to make the choice themselves at some point, and often it comes after years of pain and strife created within their own families unfortunately. Pain likes to pay forward, and that can be a very difficult cycle to break. Speaks a lot to their merit as people, I would say. To come up in such rough circumstances, to fall into bad habits, and to eventually pull out of it. But we each wind up experiencing these events in life differently, especially us grandkids who weren’t yet alive for the worst of the storm.

He mentioned a book that really resonated with him that actually was about black people in urban areas and the problems they face. Many times I’ve noticed similar overlaps between members of the black community and my people as well. People like Thomas Sowell attribute that to a shared Southern culture, which I don’t doubt plays a role to whatever extent. But this is one reason why I find it difficult to view black people as if foreign, as if their community’s problems are entirely unique. There are similarities worth noting there, as I hope more of us explore in going forward since we’re all Americans here and share more in common than some may care to acknowledge.

When he spoke about his mom claiming her addiction was a “disease” I couldn’t help but cringe. He’s absolutely on to something when he stated that regarding addiction as a disease, while that may be somewhat true insofar as brain chemistry is concerned, winds up causing the addict to have less success in kicking the bad habit. It’s almost as if thinking of addiction like a disease winds up being some sort of crutch whereby one can dispense with personal agency, and that’s not a good situation. He spoke of his Pepa giving up alcohol after years of drinking without much fanfare or going to meetings, and my Papa handled it the same way. Yet I see so many out here returning to treatment facilities and turning to AA only to relapse again and again. But we’re not supposed to judge them because they have a “disease.” Yeah, a disease of the spirit, I’d say. An excuse to give up and give in to craven desires that destroy one’s life. It’s no good. Am currently 6 months into sobriety myself and while I’m proud of me, I’m very wary of myself also because I know me and I know the allure of alcohol and how much trouble it’s caused me and others. It’s an ongoing decision to leave that lifestyle and substance alone, one that has to be renewed with each waking day and bout of temptation. It’s not easy, but it is indeed a personal decision. A choice, ultimately. Yet some folks prefer instead to remain infantile and blame all off on external factors, as if the substance itself has the power to penetrate our bodies without our willful involvement. He has my sympathy in dealing with all of that. I’ve known many people who’ve had drug-addicted and/or alcohol-dependent parents and it sounds like a horrible way to come up. My former partner’s parents both drank (and still do) and I hear the resentment in him pretty frequently, reminded of the fighting and negligence. My ex-step-aunt and her husband were like that too, and it wound up producing nothing but carnage. Some people can manage their drinking and drug use better than others, but many can’t.

He spoke of his mom being unable to comprehend the significance of her father dying on her kids who viewed him as a father figure. Gotta admit, no disrespect intended toward the author (considering how sensitive he admits to being when it comes to his family), that level of selfishness burned my soul a bit to hear. My mother was like that in her own way, unable to comprehend how I could view her father differently than she did, she opting to blame everything in her life on him. And when he died, she didn’t attend the funeral and didn’t even so much as contact me or anybody else in the family. Asked her last year for the first time what she thought of his passing and she simply said she would not talk about it, so I dropped the inquiry. To her he’s a monster. To my aunt, he was her daddy but they grew apart emotionally over time, and I think she was bitter about that. To my uncle, he was a frustrating man but his daddy, and I think he has a lot of conflicted emotions too. None of them aired their grievances to him while he was alive, so now they’ll fester on, unresolved. Very unfortunate. But I can recall back when I was little and my grandparents were fighting for custody of me and I got caught in the middle and was made to choose on the spot between my mother and my Papa. I didn’t know what to do, being only 6 at the time, so I laid still until she began crying and walked away. In her heart I doubt she’ll ever let me live that down, and it still bothers me sometimes since I didn’t know what to do. I had to go with him — he was more trustworthy than her, more dedicated. Yet all she’s ever seen is her own view of him and her own sorrows from her upbringing, conveniently forgetting that she had a kid that had to be raised by them and who bonded with them. But in her warped mind, she just sees betrayal. As a result, I now see her as a lost cause. Like a perpetual child unable to grasp anything outside of her own perspective. Forever. No drugs or alcohol even needed to cause this to be the case. It is very frustrating to deal with, especially when you felt loyal to them all and loved them all.

I hate those memories. They always get to me, no matter how many times I’ve been over them in my head and recognize the situation for what it is. Left me feeling like the best way to stop this stupid cycle was to refuse to ever become a mother myself. Never wanted to let anybody down to that extent. Tarnishes one’s view of motherhood, whether we mean for it to or not. Some are able to overcome these types of upbringings and do better by their own children, which is good. But some of us think it’s best to withdraw from taking on such obligations, uncertain of ourselves in such a scenario and very wary of what the past brought. Guess we all must handle such matters in our own individual ways since there indeed is no one-size-fits-all answer to be found. That aggressiveness he spoke of I feel inside myself and express from time to time, always making me think that it wouldn’t be suitable around children. Not in this day and age, most definitely. Especially not outside of a tribe where such expressions are regarded as the norm, though even there it tends to prove dysfunctional. In my mind’s eye I can hear police sirens and crying, and I’ve never wanted any part of it, never wanted to bring children into such a life. Right or wrong, that’s been my resolve since I was young and remains so. Tangles my emotions to read or hear of parents fucking up, of children have to raise themselves and one another, of new men being cycled in and out of kids’ lives, of mothers who don’t understand the harm they’re creating, etc. Ugh…it messes with my head. Definitely stopped me in my tracks long ago, thank god. I just cannot imagine bearing the burden of bringing new people here and then winding up failing them. Yet, it goes on all the time…

Burden. J.D. Vance mentioned that word in reference to his Memaw having to raise him. I can most definitely relate with that. It’s quite embarrassing to feel like a burden on one’s family, so once again he and his sister have my sympathies on that. My Grandma would say things sometimes too, mostly when I was a teenager, like how she couldn’t afford me anymore. Hence why I kept moving around, trying to find ways to take care of myself so I wouldn’t be such a burden on her and Papa. Though I kept having return to her home, at least until I was old enough to attend college. Went into debt for it but never returned home to live again. Gave her and Papa money throughout my 20s in an effort to try to offset some of what they had to spend on raising me, as well as paying back what I owed her directly. Yet that feeling of being a burden hauntingly lingers on. I feel it with friends and loved ones even now sometimes. Live alone and try to be as independent as possible, yet still it lingers, whispering that if not for others I would be nothing and that I ought to find some sort of way to succeed so as to make it all worth it in the end. However success is to be defined here. Never do I forget where I come from or how much I am indebted to my grandparents for taking me in and providing so much love. Their commitment to me was a game-changer, no question. But I don’t wish feeling like a burden even on my worst enemies. Messes with the head and trains you to see yourself as a lesser-than, like a little parasite — needy. Because you can’t help but be needy as a kid. But when your own parents can’t or won’t take care of you properly, others have to, and that entails a sacrifice. I don’t know if it’s possible for such a realization to not color one’s outlook on life. But such is life. Guess it’s most important to take to heart what others have been willing to do for us and to carry that love forward in whatever ways we can. They made a choice because they love us, and I’m infinitely grateful for that. The alternative would’ve been to be perceived as a burden by people who didn’t give a damn about us, which would’ve been so much worse.

I know I’m rambling off on here a lot about my own people and upbringing, but this book tapped into all of that. And it’s a very good book so far. Very worthwhile. The author became a lawyer, so he really did manage to succeed. That makes me very happy for him. I look forward to continuing on in chapter 10 tomorrow.