#mocsa

Volt egy rémálmom kb. egy hete.

Arról szólt, hogy európai és amerikai politikusok felismerték, hogy a közelmúlt összes terrorcselekményét (Manchester, Párizs, Brüsszel stb.) nagyvárosokban követték el, és ami ennél is fontosabb, ott is tervelték ki. Ezért, hogy elejét vegyék a jövőbeli merényleteknek (ún. "biztonsági intézkedések"), az európai és észak-amerikai országok kötelezővé teszik, hogy minden nagyvárosi lakos (a nagyváros definíciója lakosságtól függ, így országról országra változik) biztonsági átvilágításnak vesse alá magát (Ezeknek a törvényjavaslatoknak az összefoglaló neve a Make Our Cities Safe Again)

Mindennek persze köze nincs a biztonsághoz: az átvilágítások önköltségesek, és meglehetősen drágák. Aki nem hajlandó vagy nem tudja kifizetni a saját biztonsági átvilágítását, az automatikusan elveszti az ország összes nagyvárosában való lakhatás jogát. Az így üressé váló lakásokat pedig elárverezik. Vagyis a törvény foganatosítását egy hatalmas kilakoltatási és dzsentrifikációs hullám követi és az összes nagyvárosi lakás gazdag tulajdonosok/befektetők birtokába kerül.

Mosca - Wray & Neph

So I went to my first Adolescent Support Group thing at MOCSA last night. It wasn't like I expected it to be. Although, I wasn't exactly what to expect. I think part of me thought--kind of was hoping--it'd be like Its Kind of a Funny Story (the book or movie. both were good). And we all would sit around in a circle and talk about our feelings except there would be too many people, so I wouldn't have to say anything; just observe. 

Well, it was kind of like that. Except we sat around an old, shaky wooden table that had paint splatters on it. And there were only five of us. Let me give a quick rundown, so one would be able to understand why I felt so fucking out of place:

1. Lip-pierced girl. She was 17 and she felt numb. She also had lip piercings, short boy hair cut and huge tits. Mostly whenever she revealed anything it was about her boyfriend's cousin Cortez who was just shot and killed. And now they (whoever "they" is?) are keeping his funeral a secret because in her words, "Gang members could show up and start shooting." Obviously, lip-pierced girl was a regular on this little Thursday evening meeting. I could tell because she was really comfortable and didn't stutter or anything. Also, her mom and her talking in the waiting room like they were waiting for the dentist.

2. There was a black girl who for lack of a better identifier will be known as Black Girl. She was 16 and happy. She also arrived late with a can of Coke and one of the plastic wrapped streusels. Not to judge but simply to be honest and observant, she talked somewhat intelligently. Not like she was by any means retarded or stupid, just she mumbled a lot and used grammar all kinds of which way. It just was a little hard to hear/understand her sometimes. She talked about her boyfriend and how he was teaching her to play basketball. Oh, and her friend Tisha (?) almost got jumped at school.

3. Red-head. She was 16 and exhausted. She also was big, looked completely dejected and had fire red hear. And quite obviously, some sort of drug problem. This was just gathered from her mentions of rehab, court and awaiting a call on her probation officer. Well, shit. She didn't mention a boyfriend. 

4. And the last attendee was another first timer like me--Skinny. She was a fucking twig. Also she was 14 and she was sad. It made my gut ache to think about why she was there. She seemed kind of nervous but still participated more than I did in conversation. She has a "wonderful" boyfriend but her parents don't trust her. To me, she came off as a girl striving really, really hard to get attention. Who knows why she was there. Christ, she is only 14.

The group leader was pretty much I imagined her to be from our one brief phone conversation. She was young but not too young, smiley, warm. Kind of good sorority girl like. Her name's Jenna, and I think I like her. 

We talked about thinking errors and did activites that implied to the subject. I haven't decided yet if I'm going back next week. Because really I feel like I have nothing in common with those girls besides the reason of why we're there. If we didn't share that connection we probably would never have even known each other. And I think I would prefer it that way. Do I really want a friendship with this as the basis? Hell no. I don't want to carry this with me more than I already do. Although, it did become quite apparant to me that I have a few thinking errors.

One of which is being too quick to judge. Shit. I'm fucking walking example. 

Time to put on the smile people. Its clusterfuck grad party day. This whole idea of hosting a party just in celebration of making it through high school is a pretty good idea. Whoever started it must have have had a really awful high school experience or something. I feel for them.

I had to make this poster board of pictures for my party. And like there's stuff on there from freshmen year when I played volleyball and was fat (whoever thought those two would go together). And then there was like stuff from our families trip to Europe, from a birthday, from Sophomore year courtwarming when I went with Tyler McGrath and my tits almost came out of my dress--that was when I had boobs though, doesn't so much happen anymore. It was strange to look at these pictures from all these times and experiences I had, and it was strange to realize that the most important, defining thing from these past four year wasn't on there.

So, today I have to smile and tell people where I'm going to school and what I'm going to study and how excited I am. But it doesn't matter really. Nothing on that board felt like it really mattered to me because I would give back all those memories if I had just not gone that night, if I had not put myself in that situation.

My counselor or whatever at MOCSA doesn't really like me saying, "Put myself in that situation" because its in a way a form a self-blame. And, yeah it is so what? I'm not sure if MOCSA is helping much, I mean maybe it is. But I just feel like I'm not getting any better. But my fucking counselor told me I can't rush this process. Shit, it just sucks. At this one session, she made me watch a video that had all these interviews with women from different parts of the world with different stories, and I remember one woman (who was raped by a stranger in a parking lot) that it was constantly on her mind, every conversation, everything she did was altered because of it.

And I kind of know how it feels, except I've been fighting the alteration. We're in a full blown-out war right now. I don't know how to tell peoepl--my parents or best friends. But I'm getting to the point where I am so exhausted from pretending all the time that if someone asks me how I'm doing, it's getting harder and harder to reply, "I'm fine." When I'm not, I'm not at all.

But let me give you a second side to the story, kind of like the second side of a Disney Channel movie. It's gonna reveal some second layer beyone the simple--finals, AP exams, graudation invitations, research papers, etc.

Okay so second side of the story:

So this guy named Jon (screw his privacy) took me to prom. He's cocky, popular, manly, funny, the typical Alpha Male. It was the story of the weird girl and the jock. So, we've had a weird thing for a few months and the majority of it was not I feel like I should know better. But I let myself really like him, and I let him have all the power in the relationship. But after prom was done, he stopped talking to me. I saw him today and through to close confines of the hallways were forced to have a brief discussion. I mean brief more in the sense of subject matter, not time. Jon seemed unaware that anything could possibly be wrong. It's really hard to explain the way he acted. It made me feel pathetic and invisible.

But that's not it. Because of this wave of SSSS, I had to cancel my appointment and couldn't get another rescheduled till next week. Part of Operation: Normal is getting this type of one-on-one therapy at MOCSA. So in cancelling, I inadvertently set back my whole process. I still don't have a plan. And until next Tuesday, I'm flying solo on Operation: Normal.