When she tells me to do something, I feel like she is talking down to me. I don’t know if she really is, but it probably doesn’t matter, because she’s spoken to me in this manner so many times that I can’t erase how she’s treated me from my mind to discern what is past and what is present. Even if she’s not talking down to me now, I know she’s spoken down to me before, and she never apologized, so it’s kind of a moot point, this bullshit side effect of paranoid schizophrenia where I tell myself I’m perceiving things incorrectly because I’m fucking crazy.
I am finding it difficult to connect with people with age. It could be a personal problem. It is never my intention to blame a behavior flaw on my mental illness in an effort to make excuses. I hate when people do that. When they ask people to be empathetic towards them because they have a mental illness. I don’t believe in special treatment; I believe in special abilities.
I once had a boss – well, I have a boss – who believes that embracing diversity is the key to any great team’s success. He works for a company whose main mission is to honor its own humanity, so even though this is Corporate America, I am inclined to believe that he is not full of shit. He is likely the best boss I’ve ever had, and the best boss many would ever have, but his integrity as a leader is an entirely different, detailed matter.
As an author, in order to sell books, among other things, I have a responsibility to be on multiple social media platforms every day. That doesn’t mean, though, that I like to. The responsibility is just that: a responsibility, like doing the dishes, or going to work, neither of which I necessarily want to do. I’m not on nearly enough of the various platforms as consistently as I need to be, but there are so many that I can’t keep up. But I am active on the sites that anyone who hasn’t been living under a rock for the last twenty years would recognize by name, unfortunately. Truthfully, I don’t like how Facebook encourages its users to argue with each other with the reply feature and tagging feature (why not tag your friends to fight your argument for you?!). Twitter is not a great place to make genuine connections anymore, with the hundreds of auto direct messages I get and the link dump on my feed and even on my notifications (some authors think it’s acceptable to mention me with their book links and blog posts without asking me first).
“We are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful about what we pretend to be.” – Kurt Vonnegut
In his novel, Mother Night, the satirical giant warns his readers against spending too much time in a dream. The dream, these days, is of course the Internet. In the age of Instagram fame, we should all be careful what we wish for, in the metaphorical sense. I am sure that Orange County native Yaritza Hernandez did not wish to lose her life, but she did seek out fame.