Mental Health

Sometimes Healing Means Turning Your Life Upside-Down

September 6, 2021September 7, 2021 by Rasmenia Comment Closed

Trauma is an unpredictable and sneaky thing. Most of us have those experiences in our personal backstories that have left us softer in some places, harder in others. Maybe we get a little twitchy when a particular name or song evokes a painful memory. In the current parlance, we get triggered.That kind of trauma, though, that wound you can take a good long look at and assess just how much damage it's done to you, that's one thing. It's something you can reckon with, maybe show it to someone else who can sit you down and help you staunch the bleeding. Dress that wound. Get you back up on your feet again. You're wobbly, stumbling around, and you fall on your face now and then, but you're moving forward again.But what about the damage you don't see? What do you do with a splinter that's lodged in your psyche, causing you to do all kinds of uncharacteristic shit when you...

Please Don’t Sit Next to Me

July 23, 2019November 24, 2020 by Rasmenia Comment Closed

A few months ago, I was hanging alone with a sandwich while watching Atypical on Netflix. In the season 2 episode, "A Nice, Neutral Smell," the main character, Sam, who is autistic, attends his sister's track meet. Standing in the bleachers, a girl in front of him turns her head back and forth, her ponytail whipping Sam in the face. After he's smacked a few times, Sam seizes the ponytail and doesn't let go until his father intervenes.Sure, this happens because of Sam's autism. He doesn't have the same concept of social norms that neurotypicals do. The thing is, when I watched this scene, I nearly spat sandwich all over my living room because I was cheering. More than once in my life, I've wanted to do exactly what Sam did.Sitting next to strangers in public can be stressful. Some instances are mentally and emotionally taxing, detracting from the experience of whatever it is you're trying to do. Maybe it's...

Self-Promotion vs. Self-Sabotage: The Weird Balancing Act of Being a Writer With Anxiety

July 23, 2018December 2, 2020 by Rasmenia Comment Closed

Here's a scenario I've lived through more than once and will likely experience again one day: I'm having dinner with a small group of people, chiming in only occasionally because I prefer to focus on my food and listen to everyone else. Without warning, someone says my name and proceeds to ask me questions about writing. Have I been writing? What have I been writing? Tell us about it what's it about and when can they read it and oh for fuck's sake Brenda why can't you just leave me alone with this goddamn chicken leg?I know, I know. Brenda is only making conversation and is trying to include me. She doesn't mean any harm. She is a person with a fairly developed set of social skills. But, for me, this scenario, and variations of it, are painful. Not physically, of course, but in a way that makes me want roll up like a pill bug and disappear under the...

How to Find Closure When Your Bullies are Dead

June 24, 2016November 30, 2020 by Rasmenia Comment Closed

I wore the dress because it was Halloween. One day where we can dress up and pretend to be something that we're not. Something we don't get to be every day. Something more wild. Cooler. Louder.My dress had a newspaper print pattern splashed with neon pink and green. My mom wasn't crazy about it, but I loved it. It was cheap, so I was allowed to buy it when we were shopping for new clothes a couple months before. However, she hardly ever let me wear it. It was too "tacky" and too "loud." But then, Halloween approached and I had a last minute idea. I was now 12 years old and adult enough to dress my own self up for Halloween, thank you very much.I put on the dress. I slipped into my neon green jelly shoes. I sprayed red and black and glitter into my hair, which I curled and teased and sprayed and poofed. I did my...

Lessons From a Dollhouse: Longing For a Smaller Life

April 12, 2016November 30, 2020 by Rasmenia Comment Closed

My grandfather gave me the dollhouse right about the time my brain began to form lasting memories. He'd built the entire thing himself, with his own two hands. My mother, the oldest of four children, was the first to give her parents a grandchild, so I was a big deal. My grandparents spoiled me in the usual ways, but the dollhouse held the most meaning. Within each piece of tiny furniture there existed a universe of adoration. Every small human figure and carefully cut piece of fabric, another echo of love from my grandfather to me.A few years later, my mother and I moved halfway across the country. I could only take with me a few things that would fit in the car. The dollhouse, with most of our other possessions, remained in my grandparents' garage."We'll come back for that stuff later," my mother said. "We'll rent a U-haul and move it all into our new house when we find...

Self-Preservation Can Look the Same as Being a Dick. But It Isn’t.

October 10, 2013November 24, 2020 by Rasmenia Comment Closed

"Things get bad for all of us, almost continually, and what we do under the constant stress reveals who/what we are." -Charles Bukowski, What Matters Most Is How Well You Walk Through the Fire "When you're struggling with something, look at all the people around you and realize that every single person you see is struggling with something, and to them, it's just as hard as what you're going through." -Nicholas Sparks * * * Some people think I'm mean. They don't always use that word. Sometimes they say "hardass." Other times, they say "cold," "callous" or "hard."It doesn't hurt my feelings. Not because I'm cold and unfeeling, but because they're wrong. The adjectives people use to describe us are usually inaccurate. I'll tell you a story from a few years ago about why that is.I know a couple of women. Let's call them Patty and Selma.I've known Patty and Selma for most of my life (though they aren't a part of my...