Archive | magickal depressive realism

a solstice/new year intention-setting ritual

i am on a makeshift writer’s retreat at our out-of-town friends’ home in the mountains of glendale, california. last night, wind gusted against the house, kept me up half-wondering if someone was trying to break in. this afternoon, the rain stopped, and tonight, the wind has calmed down some, but it is still freezing. 50 […]

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image showing degree conferral from UCLA: bachelor of arts, sociology, magna cum laude

I used to hate myself and now I hate society: post-graduation reflections and jobless rambling

Society—other people, systems, institutions, culture—has so much more power over our lives than the average person gives it credit for. Acknowledging its outsized influence is devastating at first, incompatible as it is with a vision of the individual as master of their own destiny, culpable in failure and deserving in success. But there is a […]

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we should be rioting in the streets but instead i’m updating my resume: on business as usual at the end of the world

everything from then on out was going through the motions. everything from going to work every day to saving for the future to breathing was a charade performed as defense against the inevitable a tired eye closed to the light of the oncoming train a battered heart numb to the cries of the victimized child […]

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Towards reclaiming my birthright, part 2: divest from cure, control, & contain

[In the first installment of this series, I talked about my politics in general and how the connections between systems of oppression and my personal experience have become incredibly salient to me. Here I want to talk about how that awakening impacted my attitude towards my various disabilities and how I navigate the world with […]

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The shape of a memory: surviving sexual abuse outside the bounds of rationality

I don’t remember the first time I was raped, but I know it happened. I don’t recall when the memory was lost. I can’t answer #WhyIDidntReport. I do recall remembering exactly what happened, in re-traumatizingly clear detail, two years later: in the middle of an assembly at school on reporting sexual abuse. And then, I […]

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the master's tools will never dismantle the master's house, but they WILL build a kick ass shed miles away, in the woods.

Using the master’s tools to build a shack outside so you can be alone (aka navigating disability gatekeeping in the educational system)

Even before I stopped taking medication, I stopped going to therapy. I didn’t have a therapist through most of the withdrawal process; only at the very beginning did I seek out a psychologist because I thought it would be safe. But I just found myself arguing with her, as we had such different worldviews and […]

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