SSDD...BW

A pale hand, doing thumbs down

 That's Same Shit Different Day...But Worse

Click the link. You might see my point.

Or you might not, especially if you believe in what He Himself (I'm not naming him; we all know who we're talking about here) called "alternative facts."

The ICE guy didn't "fear for his life," and he didn't have "internal bleeding" unless it was just a bruise. If he legit did fear for his life, then he was a) poorly trained, and b) not over the trauma of being dragged by a car six months previously. He should not have been there.

The ICE guys today - with their "Like Call of Duty, cool huh?" - bullshit. Normal people - like me, for instance - can leave their video games on the console where they belong. These assholes just see terrorizing, shooting, and killing real people as another game. I guess that it's not fun for them unless there's real blood and guts. 

He Himself has said out loud he's picking on blue states and areas. He has said he loves the poorly educated. He has said he could shoot someone in public and his fans wouldn't even blink. He's right, although I can't understand how you people are so gullible. How you can dismiss "grab by the pussy" as "locker room talk" while simultaneously praising Himself for truth-telling, I do not grok.

"But Obummer deported even more!" Yeah. Legally, fairly nonviolently, and actually going for people who broke more laws than just being here, which is a misdemeanor and a civil matter in the first place. The ICEholes right now are going after anyone who "looks illegal" (by which they almost certainly mean not someone who passes as a cishet white allegedly-Christian male), or who so much as looks at them crosseyed, apparently just for fun.

I would bet most of them are just Proud Boys with bigger guns. Read that link, too.

It does make sense, I guess. You can't expect real adult men to follow He Himself, as he started out as Veruca Salt and is deteriorating rapidly.

Has Mexico paid for that wall yet? No? Shocker.

I believe in people over profit, but I guess that's too hard for some of you to fathom. 

It's my Anxiety

I have Generalized Anxiety Disorder (GAD). 

We know this, but in my experience (mild for most of my life, mild-to-moderate since my husband's death in 2016), an anxiety episode has either had a definite trigger - like a particularly severe asthma attack or driving on icy hills - or it's that low-level constant dread that seems to be part of trying to be a decent human being in Today's America. Or volcanoes in movies, or trying to make that damn lightning-assisted leap in the Inazuma region of Genshin Impact, but again, those are general, vague, and pretty mild.

As a rule, I can deal with it on my own, with things like the Calm app, deep breathing, and so forth. In the winter, it's paired with our old friend Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD), and I take a low dose of an antidepressant at bedtime in the winter. Usually, I'm fine, if a bit hand-wringy as a self-soothing mechanism.

But today, my supervisor texted me while I was out with a pair of students, and, like a responsible driver, I waited until I was parked at their bus stop and they were on their way into their house before I read it. It only asked if I could come see her when I got back to base, so I responded with, "Yes. Is everything OK?"

Then I started back to base.

And then... then I worried.

Had I done something wrong? Did I go too fast in a school zone? Neither of my morning students was there today, and maybe one of their parents called to complain that I hadn't waited long enough. The boss hasn't responded. What if it's terrible and she doesn't want to say anything over text? Or nothing in writing at all, because it's that bad. Did I stop long enough at that red light before turning?

Mind you, I know in my forebrain that everything is fine, and there's almost certainly nothing I did wrong. Still, my hindbrain was being an asshole and overriding that, plus my forebrain was busy Driving Safely at Dusk, so it couldn't argue with its asshole cousin hindbrain. So I'm okay, but that asshole part of my brain is working itself into a frenzy.

Grand.

I got back to base and went into my supervisor's office, and she was appalled that I had gotten upset because it was a simple scheduling issue.

Of course it was.

But try to tell Asshole Hindbrain that. He's not listening.

Anyway, worked it out with my boss, texted my therapist to tell her I have a topic for our next session, had dinner with my younger kiddo, and started writing it out while she was in the shower. And now I'm fine.

At least I recognized it, so the next time I start spiraling like that, maybe Forebrain can successfully tell Hindbrain to STFU.