Trying to unpack my tumultuous relationship with Bitchface.

Bitchface (ongoing enemy/family member/mostly enemy) has posted all over her social media about reaching out and it being okay to not be okay, and the importance of mental health and all of that. With some beautiful insta-worthy quotes on gorgeous sunset backgrounds. She is commemorating RU OK day.

RU OK is an admiral campaign aimed at suicide prevention by simply asking “RU OK”. It has become a massive thing with the help of social media as well as some key partners, such as being endorsed/adopted unofficially by the government and other huge workplaces such as education systems, sporting codes etc.

So I’m going to casually side step the incredibly poor job the Australian government has done on mental health awareness, spending, researched actions and actionable steps. I’m also going to side step the horrendous examples of abuse of mentally ill, subjugated and mostly any feeling person in Australia by the general culture and the systemic policies.

And I’m just going to bitch.
Bitch: Verb. Complain about a specific person or persons.

Also, I made up that definition. But in the interest of clear communication, it totally works.

So I am all up for suicide prevention, mental health awareness, asking if people are okay, reaching out, and acknowledging that it’s totally okay to not be okay. I am such a massive advocate for all of those things. And more.

But I find this all incredibly tokenistic.

And, as with just that everything you do, Bitchface, irritates the fuck out of me. Everything.

And this was no exception.

Firstly, what on earth do you know about feeling? Actual question. (Bitchy question, but I mean it actually) I have attempted repeatedly to get to any form of feeling space with you. To reach you in the land of feelings. To converse on some form of anything based on the depths and real-ness of feelings. Feelings. I’ve been trying for years!

And I don’t think you are overtly vicious. I think that you have been very privileged and sheltered in your life experiences. You have not confronted the depths of conflicting emotions and needing to meet needs in unhealthy or unsustainable ways but that being your best option because that was the only way to get needs met. You haven’t had any of that. You haven’t had to explore the privilege you were born with, nor the smooth ride you’ve had since that day.

Yes, life is tough. For everyone. Yes you’ve had some massive things happen in your world. And yes, you’re still an insensitive turd and you drive me nuts!

In counselling I realised that you draw a lot of parallels with my birth mother. You have an incredibly grandiose experience of self and seem completely unable to go beyond that. You are hurtful and incredibly un-emtionally-intelligent.

Things are mysteriously black and white for you. There is a get-over-it thing about you, that you generously apply to all people, all situations and all things. And hey, it is obviously working for you.

You have an investment in your identity and world. An identity and world in which my existence is threatening. Because I don’t value the things that you value. I don’t see things the way you see things. And I have tried so hard to meet you on the plane of weather chats and cocktail drinks. I just want you to meet me part way. You know – the feeling way. The this-cocktail-is-nice-cos-I-am-stressed way.

And not in the condescending, platitude giving way. Which is your only way towards feeling spaces as I have come to determine.

When I told you that I was not okay – you silenced me. You shut me down, shamed me out, drew daggers and fired. Repeatedly. On very big things. You have told me that my feelings were wrong and placed all the blame on me. You mirrored the words and blame of childhood, which meant I took it onboard way too easily.

You are so fucking insensitive. In so many ways!

When I open my heart to you – it gets stamped on. And crushed. Repeatedly.

And I know that you are fucking trying. With your weekly (almost) daily texts and fake emoji fuck-tard-ness. I know that in your world this is you genuinely trying.

But how many times does a heart need to be crushed before I am justified in being suspicious of you?

I know that we are related. And that means more to you – right now for obviously fake and sheltered reasons… It’s just that I don’t trust you. With my heart, or feelings, or authenticity. And faking it to be around you is incredibly draining. Soul sucking.

So screw you – for your post about RU OK day. Screw you for your incredible naivety and lack of awareness of any and all things. Screw you for your lack of sensitivity. Screw you for your misinterpreted centre of gravity. Screw you for your sense of entitlement over me and my world. Screw you for your lack of confrontation and your under-the-rug sweeping abilities. Screw you for how much I am still thinking about all of this, and how I can’t totally process or understand this, and screw you for sleeping soundly whilst this is going through my head and heart again in early morning freight trains.

I’m not sure why I’m even playing this game with you! Why haven’t I walked away? What the hell?!

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