Where is Your Condemnation Now?

TW: For Racism

During the Ferguson protests, during the Baltimore uprisings, during countless demonstrations that took place because black children, black men, and black women, are being murdered, there were countless and endless condemnations by white people of the protestors as being too violent, too angry.

Last night, white people came to a Black Lives Matter demonstration for no other purpose then to commit violence. Their purpose wasn’t to raise awareness, to express anger and hurt over government sanctioned murders. No. They were there to kill people who had the nerve to protest being murdered. They were there because they don’t see PoC as being human beings, as being people. They shot five people.

When the police responded, their response included macing protestors after they had just been shot at.

Continue reading “Where is Your Condemnation Now?”

Where is Your Condemnation Now?
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Sometimes the Cure Really is Puppies!

For the last several months, I have been dealing with increased Crohn’s like symptoms: an increase in pain, in nausea, and in extreme exhaustion. All the tests however are coming back normal. It’s possible that one of three things are going on:

  1. The symptoms are being caused by my IBS instead of my Crohn’s.
  2. My Crohn’s is active in my small bowel and we need new tests to detect it.
  3. I am one of the percentage of Crohn’s patients who have symptoms but the location of the disease is hard or impossible to find. Crohn’s sometimes likes to hide.

The doctor’s advice was for me to “take it easy” in the hopes that less stress will mean less symptoms. This is especially the case if the bulk of the symptoms are the result of the IBS. The problem of course is that in terms of stress, I am already on disability. I don’t work in the traditional sense, though I would argue with anyone who would try to say I don’t work. (Ever try to make 70 hats in under a month? Ever write a book?)

Most of my stress comes from the poverty that comes with being on disability. I live on a fixed income that was fixed long enough ago and hasn’t accounted nearly enough for inflation. I live on an income that depends on me having to make additional money but not so much that they start docking my support. My anxiety fixates on things, sometimes legitimate and sometimes not. In addition my depression sets off my anxiety.

If I can’t actually make more money and money is the leading cause of my stress, and I’ve already done as much as possible to relieve other forms of stress, what else is there?

I’ve looked at the problem extensively, and a thought emerged. You see, whenever I am around someone’s anxiety service dog that dog responds to me in a way indicating that they want to alert me. More than once, I’ve been alerted to an anxiety spiral by a dog on multiple occasions. When that happens, my sudden awareness of what is going on helped me work on therapy techniques to draw me away from the spiral.

It makes sense. When you live in a circumstance where some measure of nervousness and worry is justified, how do you differentiate regular worry from pathological anxiety?

For some time now, I had been considering the possibility of a service dog. The biggest barriers always seemed like a lack of easily accessible information, and an assumption that the costs would be prohibitive.

Then a little bit of luck came my way. I met a wonderful person who not only had an anxiety service dog, but had gone through the process herself. Her animal is what is called an owner-trained service animal, a designation that is not allowed in some places but luckily is in Ontario. Now, I am still learning what there needs to be learned, but I can say that an owner-trained service dog is NOT a fake service dog. It is simply one who was trained by the owner rather than by a specific program however, they both need to meet the same level of qualifications.

This person was willing to help me and let me know how to go about it.

With the consultation of my friend, and the pressure from my increasing symptoms, it seemed as though we were being pushed in that direction. In addition, our dog is starting to age and it getting to the point where a younger companion could do a lot to keep her in good health and extend her life. The final decision was aided with a promise from my parents to help with some of the costs in the form of a Christmas present.

We decided to give it a go and early this week we welcomed CJ (After CJ from West Wing) to our family.

Our choice of breed was dictated by a series of considerations:

  • Our home
  • Our lifestyle
  • My ability to handle certain weights

All of these considerations pointed us to a small dog. Toy breeds are also very attuned to humans since they grow up in much closer contact with people than other breeds.

My friend helped me administer a temperament test more than once, one based on one of the recognized assessment tests out there.

I will be writing about the process while I go through it. But first…. Puppy pictures!

Tiny Black and Beige Chihuahua Puppy

Tiny Black and Beige Chihuahua Puppy
Tiny Black and Beige Chihuahua Puppy
Tiny Black and Beige Chihuahua Puppy

Tiny Black and Beige Chihuahua Puppy

Sometimes the Cure Really is Puppies!

Don't You Fear Terrorism

If you have any interest in the news, you have heard about the attack that took place by a stadium in Paris. The attacks on Paris were not the only ones that took place. In addition to Paris, Daesh (ISIS/ISIL) has also claimed responsibility for attacks in Beirut and Baghdad which took place just hours before the ones in Paris.

In light of the attacks, there has been an international backlash against Syrian refugees. The backlash has included attacks on refugee camps, attacks on Mosques in Canada, the US, attacks of Muslim people all over the world. It has also resulted in the US attempting to close its doors to desperate people fleeing from Syria. Politicians are announcing that they are barring their specific corners to refugees in flagrant violations of their own laws, and still others are suggesting measures reminiscent of the Holocaust and the persecution of Jews in Nazi Germany before the start of the war.

Why? Because they’ve decided that Syrian refugees pose a safety risk.

Some people have decided that the torrent of refugees is the perfect disguise for any terrorists looking for admittance to the US or any other place where refugees fleeing. This, of course, ignores the realities of the refugee process, and the fact that none of the terrorists have even been found to be Syrian nationals.

The racist and islamophobic rhetoric and actions of the last few days, always seem to be accompanied by apologists asking: “Don’t You Fear Terrorism?”

The question is meant to suddenly make these bigoted measures seem appropriate, because, it’s not racist you see, its self-defense.

But see, here’s the thing. I do fear terrorism.

I fear the terrorists who send threats to people who fight for social justice.

I fear the terrorists who put people’s lives in danger by doxing them.

I fear the terrorist who decides to shoot me or my friends because he’s decided that feminists are to blame for anything that has gone wrong in his life.

I fear the terrorist who walks into a school with a gun because a woman told him no.

I fear the terrorist with a badge who kills people based on the colour of their skin.

I fear the terrorists who see nothing wrong with brutalizing their children because of a disability, or because they are trans, or gay.

I fear the terrorists threatening and murdering people of colour for daring to exist: in churches, universities, in parks playing as children, walking home from the store.

I fear the terrorists who blow up clinics because they disapprove of a woman’s right to choose.

I fear the terrorists in government who use fear to slowly strip us of our rights.

What I don’t fear are children and terrified people fleeing their homes and everything they’ve known, who have watched their homes destroyed, and seen their friends and family killed.

The refugees are not terrorists. The terrorists we are so afraid of grew up right here.

Don't You Fear Terrorism

Guest Post: The Stigma of Mental Illness and Religiosity: A Dual Insult

Guest post by Katrina Halfaker

 

My life is defined, to some extent, by my mental disorders. To be chemically different is to be a lesser. It is to be stigmatized. We’re cast as violent, deranged, and irrational even though we are ten times more likely to be victims of abuse, often by those in positions of power, whether they be police officers, academic administrators, loved ones, or strangers on the street.

 

I’m an atheist with OCD, which is comorbid with other anxiety-based disorders, and I noticed clues of their onset as early as when I was ten, as did my family, though they never took me to a doctor. In the last year, I’ve dealt with mild pubic trichotillomania. Years before, I developed a binge-eating disorder (which led to childhood obesity). It went quiet for a while, but still, it occasionally asserts itself in relapses. Every single person in my immediate family has been or is currently affected by at least one major disorder (diagnosed and undiagnosed: SAD, borderline personality disorder, and depression). I was raised in a religious household and educated until teenage-hood in a low-key Creationist school. We never had a licensed school therapist or nurse, or any provisions outside of an occasional hearing and vision test – but we did have chapel every week.

 

So, yes: I know the difference between reinforced frameworks and chemical diversity.

 

Many of you, my fellow secularists, need to understand one very crucial aspect of this dilemma: you have made it personal when you call religion a mental illness. And you have transgressed in ways you believe you have not. And you are unwilling to acknowledge it.

Continue reading “Guest Post: The Stigma of Mental Illness and Religiosity: A Dual Insult”

Guest Post: The Stigma of Mental Illness and Religiosity: A Dual Insult

Metropolitan Movers: MOVE FROM HELL!

I posted earlier about the “Move From Hell“. The following is the email I sent to the company on Oct. 15, 2015, detailing the whole thing. I am posting it publicly since the company has as of the date of posting this, not responded to my email except with a confirmation of receipt and a promise to respond to it within 15 business days (Which would have been Nov. 5.) 

Re: Sunday Oct. 4
To Whom It May Concern:

On Oct. 4th, 2015, I had a scheduled move with your company, Metropolitan Movers, for an in city move of a 1 bedroom apartment to a 2 bedroom apartment.

At the time of booking the move, I informed the person with whom I was making the booking that we had 3 large aquariums as part of the move, as well as a deep freezer. I described that our building had a loading room connected to the elevators.

I was quoted an estimate of two to four hours, but was warned that it could also take up to six hours.

Your movers arrived promptly, and got to work right away. I want to be clear that their first impression was of professionalism. They also made a point to make me aware of any existing damage right away, which I appreciated.

Despite the fact that the movers appeared professional, their actual work was completely incompetent. To begin with, they did not use their available equipment to complete the move. They carried every box with their hands rather than loading several on a dolly or flatbed, to speed up the process. When they arrived, almost the entire apartment was already packed up and ready to go, with the only exceptions being items which needed to be packed at the very last minute, such as food in the freezer.

Continue reading “Metropolitan Movers: MOVE FROM HELL!”

Metropolitan Movers: MOVE FROM HELL!

The Move from Hell

At the beginning of October, Alyssa and I moved from our old apartment, to a new one. There were a lot of reasons why we decided to do so. Main among them was the continuing declining quality of the building we lived in. When we first moved is, the building was well maintained. There was a tenant run library where many neighbours would congregate. We knew our neighbours, something I had never had happen in an apartment building.

Over the years however, the frequently changing property managers and rental agents, some of who were not well disposed to running a building of that size, led to things being dropped. The tenant library was closed, first we were told it was temporary, but finally it was revealed that it would in fact be permanent.

We ended up with a mold problem in our unit, and rather than dealing with it, the managers tried to blame us. During this time, I learned that the whole building was experiencing problems with black coloured mold spots in their units. Despite this, we were still blamed for its presence in our apartment. We finally had to hire a professional who was able to identify that the problem was systemic and not a result of anything we had done.

While the professionals were there, they measured the air quality levels. Their machine detects dust, mold, and pollen particles in the air. A level of between 200 and 600 thousand was ok. The level in our building was seven million. While living in that building, I dealt with increasingly worse allergies, and now I knew why.

When we finally moved out and I came back a week later to clean, I had my first asthma episode since I was 12. I’m on puffers again, after having previously outgrown asthma.

We were really excited for our move. Because the location was further from downtown, we were able to scrimp up for a 2 bedroom apartment. Finally I could set up an office and maybe use that fact to help motivate me to focus better. Our new community also offers some great amenities, including more accessible recycling, community gardens, and so forth.

Thanks to the generosity of friends, as well as a credit card, we were able to hire movers. Something we were excited for, since my disability makes it difficult, even dangerous for me to lift heavy items. Alyssa also has been dealing with enough, that the prospect of heavy lifting was extremely daunting. The movers would help make the whole situation less stressful. Little did we know, our choice of moving company would turn this whole experience into the move from hell.

To start with, the whole move took over 16 hours, spread over two days, and wasn’t even done at the end. I still don’t understand how they managed to drag it out that long. After almost 8 hours of moving out the apartment, the truck was half empty, and yet we were being told that they would have to charge us a second truck fee. Why? Because they had packed the pantry first, putting bags of food at the bottom back of the truck. They couldn’t put anything on top of it or it would be destroyed.

When they finally arrived the next day to continue the move, it turned out our lift-top table, the one piece of furniture I splurged on when I finally received disability, had been stolen. Along with everything that had been stored inside it. That wasn’t the only thing we lost. In the end we were missing my office chair, as well as Alyssa’s jewelry box, as well as some miscellaneous items.

They made Alyssa carry items, so that we could “save money”. That first day, she didn’t sit once for over 8 hours. The move took so long, that we missed both breakfast and lunch, having expected to go to Tim Hortons on the drive between apartments. I too ended up having to move more than I should have health wise.

During the second day of the move, they refused to start until I paid for the day before. Clever, since I had no intention of paying that much for what was clearly an incompetent move. Still, I needed to get my move finished. After some negotiation, we agreed that I would pay for 9 hours, total.

What followed the transaction going through was a completely expected, but still exasperating, flaking out on work. One of the movers was apparently so sick, that he had to stop working. I took him at face value. Since they were saying he needed to go to the hospital, I offered to drive so they wouldn’t have to take the truck. Imagine my surprise when they insisted that it was ok, they would finish unpacking the truck with what they had packed first. They left with a half empty truck, leaving behind several items in the public hallways as well as all over the floor.

By the time it was all done, Alyssa and I were so exhausted we could barely function. I spent most of October with severe spinal pain. I could barely walk all month. The stress made my Crohn’s flare.

We’re still not completely unpacked, though we are getting a bit more done every day. I can’t wait till we are finally settled and things can get back to normal. Needless to say, neither of us have any interest in moving for a very, very long time.

 

The Move from Hell