Lookng for Light in the Midst of Darkness

I've been feeling down and blue lately. The election is a part of that, and it is winter so I get less sunlight, and that always seems to affect me, and then there's my sight...

I know to expect a constant decline. I know it is, as my medical record so kindly states,

"a progressive, incurable disease" 

I know all of this, but I still find it hard to adjust each time I notice my world getting darker and smaller than before.

Colors fade.
Lights dim.
Visual acuity diminishes.
And my positive outlook plummets, even if it is temporary.

I was deep in thought about it all the other night, and I realized that there are parallels between how I feel about what's going on in the world around me politically, and what's going on in the world around me visually.

• Darkness is slowly encroaching on an ever smaller and smaller world. 
• The dangers I encounter are growing in number, and I don't always see them before it is too late. 
• What worked before is inadequate now.
• I have to constantly remind myself to slow down, look for the safe spots, and then make my way to them slowly, meticulously considering each step and then cautiously advancing, ever onward. Ever forward. 
• Sometimes the steps I take look foolish to others, and I have to stop caring whether or not they understand my motives. I always strive for my actions to do no harm, to myself or to others. 
• I'm constantly looking desperately for a glimmer of light to help guide me. 
• Sometimes I have to create my own light. 

Although I get overwhelmed with the changes and frightened by the darkness, I have to approach it with determination and confidence.

Friends, I'm here to tell you, I will get through my vision loss and thrive in spite of it.

We will get through this dark period in our country's history by adjusting ourselves to our new environment, taking carefully planned steps, and maneuvering ourselves back into that circle of light where we can clearly assess our surroundings, unobstructed by all this darkness.

What is Sexual Assault?

WHAT IS SEXUAL ASSAULT?

Sexual assault is any type of sexual contact or behavior that occurs without the explicit consent of the recipient. Falling under the definition of sexual assault are sexual activities as forced sexual intercourse, forcible sodomy, child molestation, incest, fondling, and attempted rape.

https://www.justice.gov/ovw/sexual-assault

Let's be clear. He who shall not be named was not merely bragging about his sexual exploits. He was bragging about committing sexual assault. I don't know a single person who was offended by his use of the word, "pussy" on that recording. It was purely about the fact that he said, "I don't even wait. Just start kissing," and that he justified it by citing his socio-economic status as granting him permission to do as he pleases to any person's body without gaining consent, 

"And when you’re a star, they let you do it. You can do anything. Grab them by the pussy. You can do anything." 

It is clear exactly what is being said here. This is not just locker room talk. This is beyond that childish "boys will be  boys," bullshit. This is a person clearly saying that they don't need permission, consent, or even a hint of reciprocity, they feel that their fame and fortune grant them access to other people's bodies in the most intimate of ways, regardless of how the other person feels. And if you are defending him, you are just as disgusting, repulsive, and abhorrent as him. Grow the fuck up and realize that your candidate is a vile human being, and should absolutely NOT represent what the United States of America is about, in any sense whatsoever. And get the fuck out of my face with your disgusting defense of sexual assault. 

Here's where my reaction to this comes from, as a woman who grew here  in a country where rape culture is so prevalent and yet so quickly dismissed as myth or exaggeration, I experienced the following: 

1.  By the time I learned what it meant to be a virgin, I realized that my virginity had been taken from me long ago, without my permission, and by someone close. 

2.  When I tried to discuss the sexual abuse with my parents, I got the response, "You have to learn to get along  with everyone." They didn't even get it, what I was trying to tell them, and my vocabulary didn't even hold the words "rape" or "sex" or even "bad touch" yet. 

3.  When I tried to tell my priest about the sexual abuse, he actually did grab me by the pussy and asked me, "Is this where he touched you?" and then went on to tell me how God only punishes naughty girls in this way.  Years  later, when I went to the Diocese to report that abuse, my claim was dismissed because the school mysteriously lost all record of my attendance there, even though I still, to this day, have year books, report cards, and letters from my teachers. 

4.  Riding on the school bus at 13 years old was a treat when boys would randomly grab my breasts.  One time one boy actually stuck his hands up my skirt. He blamed the bumpy ride for his fingers pushing into me, but I knew better and left a pretty good bruise on him. He didn't try that again.

5.   At 19 years old, I endured a male manager who conveniently dropped his pencil under the desk and needed to bend down there to retrieve it  every time I wore a dress or skirt to work. When I caught on and switched to slacks, he stopped being so clumsy. 

So don't talk to me about "innocent locker room talk" or "school boy banter." Men who talk the way that orange pile of shit talks about women are the reason we have kids like Brock Turner raping unconscious women and then spending less time in prison than I spent recovering from pneumonia.  And if you can't understand that, you have much bigger problems than your feigned outrage and defense of the indefensible.  

And now I need a shower.