Porcupine and the City

I am sitting up late tonight, because I hurt and don’t want to go to bed yet. I am having the PTSD tingles. I also am feeling some annoyance at my feelings. I am liking Hello Kitty objects, some Barbies are “cool!” and I want them. Dolls in general. My world is a topsy turvy land of confusion as I branch out and grow. I run into a few videos as I watch my normal stuff, and some not so normal stuff. It’s like the videos are stalking me.

I find a series of make up tutorials that break my heart first. The creator of them (not named because I will not link to self aggrandized abuse) is a person of color. She spends half her make up regimine erasing signs of life, the other half using make up tricks to try and look like a white person. In general only one video is slightly cool that I watch. The one with vampire make up. It’s cool because for a few seconds she does the same thing I do. Except of course her make up system requires that you risk your eye health with eyeliner on your eyeballs. I mock her with M for a while, trying to delve into the feelings. He and I both are just shocked at her.

I move along, stumbling onto a parody of the above person. The parody is demeaning to women in general but over all addresses the same self hatred. I inspect the user’s videos and find a video about hugging asians. As M is Asian I watched it, deemed it hilarious and linked it to him saying I now knew how to hug him. We laughed a bit, but I was curious about who he was parodying.

I saw something in the reality of the parodied person, again not linked because I won’t feed the self hate. It took an hour of just processing and my attentive little moments to figure out what it was that drew and repulsed me to this person. Apparently they are a sensation on youtube, which could mean a career in this age of technology. Their sensationalism? Being a fat disabled woman who is angry and pushes everyone away with their acerbic tongue. There is little wit, and the perception this person clearly has is that everyone else is stupid. No one has value, nothing can be gained by her or us. I was stunned, and decided to write a bit about the revelations I saw.

I saw myself as a teenager, raging and screaming for attention, hungering for love, and in pain that I felt no one else could understand. With in the end of the first video I knew this person had a disability. There were the tells that I can spot. I have the ability to consistently identify people with hidden disabilities based purely on my own years of trying to pass for normal. It’s a twitch here, the slight hunch of the shoulders, references to always being tired. Six videos later, as I am grasping for what it is that has me so unnerved the disability is revealed. The cavalierness of the reveal is refreshing, there is no self hate in that aspect yet the entire portrayal of this New Jersite is one of rage.

Reducing yourself to a single facet is never healthy, and yes this is youtube and I hope that this personae is not carried on in the real world but I once did the same thing. The same behaviors where I pushed everyone away. I sometimes want to still, as I find my pain left unchecked makes me a porcupine again. I will say or do anything to be alone because pain makes me vulnerable. I will say anything and do anything in order to survive in those moments and your existance invalidates mine for reasons I cannot understand.

The charm of the person wears thin rapidly, the honesty is nice but not the cruelty that is there hiding something. What bothers me about this video? This person is older than I am. I always expect people who have lived longer to be wiser. Not smarter, as wisdom comes in many flavors. Yet this person is left feeding on rage. I wonder if she would still be a ball of rage, harming herself by pushing herself into this mood to record rants that rarely go anywhere… if people ignored her videos.

Yes, she could be classified as a human troll, and she has declared that her shouting at the world is for justice.

The reflections of who I once tried to be stared at me in the face and I cried for her pain and for the echoed pain that I never quite shook. I understand what bothered me, it is the knowledge that if she acts this way at all times she is lonely, the knowledge she is in pain, and that people are encouraging her to continue to lash out at the world. There is a difference between being constructive and destructive and it takes a lot to not go into destructive. I screw that up still but is she trying?

I want to reach out to this person but I know that is not a valuable task for my energy at the moment. They are being given fandoms, possibly money, all to act out like this. I can say I hope I am wrong but that refraction through my mind of these images and sounds has left me deeply shaken.

Suddenly my worry that I have so many pink things in my house now (a doll with pink hair, some of the barbie furniture I have yet to paint, three doll dresses and the USB Hubs that I got years ago as the non pink were ten dollars more) I am not so worried that I think Hello Kitty is cute and I am wondering if my letting myself near the softer things I like is another sign of my starting to let go of that stiff rage I had felt. Had.

My default emotion is no longer rage, anger, sorrow, etc. I am most often contented. Not jubilant or happy, technically by the average standards I am depressed still. I probably always will be depressed if I am measured against other people but I am good. In my heart, in my mind, and mostly my fingers I am good.

I am creating again. Soon I will make videos of dollies murdering one another. I am spending time on writing. Soon I will be linking to a story I wrote, which is based in that same pain and anger that I was thinking of as I wrote this.

So as this person who remined me that I once was a porcupine too lives in New York, I hope that they find a place of comfort. If you are a porcupine too, don’t be alone. You do not have to be. Now if yo uwant to be then do be alone, but people will love you for you. Just the right people can be hard to find.

I may not write again until after the Holidays. I have Sprite’s Birthday next Tuesday as well as Yule, Tuesday, and then Gothmas on the 25th so that there is still a celebration. With really smart animals who understand when their birthday is, can’t cheat and go “here, lets open it all now.” I tried that once.

Oh and I did win a disabled barbie doll on ebay, M covered the fees, so soon enough I will try to repaint a dolly to look like one of my fantasy imaginary people who is disabled. Now being on a Barbie I am not sure I can make the doll fatter but I may try. I hear Bondo is great for sculpting dolls.I am continuing to work on the dolls I want to create in my head. The ideas branch out further each day. Especially the more I see how often Barbie really does fail at being anything positive. Doesn’t mean I don’t own a few because I do now. They will be made into monsters and other not ordinary barbie things for the Murder Dolls videos!

I sometimes wonder, what gifts I have been given to come so far. From the unwanted unborn child starved and punished before birth, to the little girl who didn’t understand why no one liked her on sight, to the rage filled teenager who started to build a bomb to blow up her high school days before Columbine due to years of abuse and torment and became afraid of herself, through to the adult who had become convinced the only wayto be a real person who mattered at all was to work and never do anything but…. to the homeless person with a disability, to the disability rights advocate who has never had so much love in her entire life and has more love than seems fair, but I am not giving up a bit of that love.

I am so blessed to have come so far, seeing the echoes of past in another’s pain broke my heart. I wish I could help her so much.

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