Nanu Nanu

Nanu nanu, Mork.

If you don't know me, you may not know the... well, the circus of things that contribute to who I am as a person and a professional. I'm a mom, a wife, a dog person (well, a MY dogs person), I identify as a member of a few fandoms (I totally ship Destiel and upset my 14 year old daughter with my vast Harry Styles knowledge), I live with debilitating chronic pain associated with autoimmune diseases, I'm tattooed, a varsity swim parent, a reader, a knitter, a depressive socially anxious introvert, and a social media professional. I know, I don't make sense to me, either.

I work for and volunteer my time, energy, words, and presence to a couple of important causes here in South Carolina. One of those, an organization very close to my heart, is NAMI Mid-Carolina. I was asked to address the Mid-Carolina facebook audience about the suicide of Robin Williams just as I had begun to peek out from behind my own feelings of oppressive grief, depression, and sadness related to the second anniversary of a close friend's suicide. So here's what I wrote. See the original on Facebook, and please give a "like" to NAMI Mid-Carolina while you're there.

By now you have heard, watched, or read reports regarding the death of beloved actor Robin Williams. On behalf of NAMI Mid-Carolina, we would like to express our horror; our grief, condolences, and deep sadness... So we open with National Suicide Prevention Lifeline number: 1-800-273-TALK (8255). 

But you're not about to read another "hey, don't do it, you aren't alone, you have so much to live for" post. No, instead we are going to tell you about how one of the planet's most beloved actors and comedians often spent his days consumed with feelings of worthlessness and fear. Maybe just like you. Maybe just like me. He fought hard to win those battles most of the days, but... today is the day that he lost that fight. I'm certain his wife and children lost. I know the world lost. Maybe this loss could have been you. Maybe it could have been me. Today it is Robin Williams. 

Chances are, Mr. Williams FELT alone, just like you or I have felt alone. Chances are he FELT as if he had nothing to live for. Diagnosed with bipolar disorder in addition to substance addictions, he often talked about using his own "one bit of crazy" in turning bouts of mania into comedy routines to make the world laugh. He drank heavily to quiet his ever-present fear. "It's just literally being afraid," he said. "And you think, oh, this will ease the fear. And it doesn't." When asked what he was afraid of, Williams said "Everything. It's just a general all-around arggghhh. It's fearfulness and anxiety." 

Today, our loss is a person we all recognize, a person for whom we all have a bit in our memories where he mattered, a person who loved nothing so much as he loved to bring JOY. This man who struggled *always* with fear and depression dedicated most of his terrified, depressive, anxious, life to OUR LAUGHTER. Does the suicide of a man who lived for joy and laughter MAKE SENSE? We submit to you that the answer is no. No, it does not make sense. It sounds like a depressive EPISODE. A TREATABLE ILLNESS.
Williams’ publicist gave a short statement with the news of his death, saying that Williams had recently been “battling severe depression”. Robin Williams made no secret of his decades-long fight for mental health, most recently seeking inpatient help last month (July 2014). 

Forbes writes: “Many people who suffer from depression report feeling as though they’ve lost the ability to imagine a happy future, or remember a happy past. Often they don’t realize they’re suffering from a treatable illness, and seeking help may not even enter their mind. Emotions and even physical pain can become unbearable. They don’t want to die, but it’s the only way they feel their pain will end.” 

It's time to talk. Talk about addiction, talk about depression, talk about mania, and TALK ABOUT SUICIDE. It's time to stop buying into the stigma that suicide is shameful and embarrassing. It's time to stop sweeping it under the rug. Tell your stories. Talk about the pain of surviving the self-inflicted death of someone you love. Talk about treating your own suicidal ideations tenderly. Talk about surviving yourself! Talk about how support and understanding mattered, matters, and is there, waiting... for all of us. 

We miss you already, Robin.

Honor Among Tweebs

An open letter to @drinkblogrepeat, @prodigalsam, and #therealtwitterati:

I meant to write this before now. I should have! I'm writing it now with just a few hours left in the Free Times Best of Columbia 2013 Poll, but writing it at this late hour is better than not writing it at all, I guess. I hope.

For those of you who may not live in or around the Columbia, South Carolina area, our most popular newspaper (hey, it's my blog, I calls it like I sees it) is a free weekly paper aptly named... Free Times. For the past four years, they've held a "popularity" poll covering topics from biggest media hog to best bar to hit up with only $10 to your name. It begins with a round of write-in nominations, from which they then publish the top nominees as a multiple-choice ballot for the public's opinion on the best of the Best of Columbia. 

This year, they've added a new category: Best Twitter-er. I mounted a mini campaign for a write-in in the nomination round, more for fun than anything else - there has never been one single day in all of my 14402 days* that I would or could have described myself as "popular". In fact, I once lost a student council election in the 8th grade... ordinarily not that big of a deal, sure, but I was running unopposed. Riiight. See? (I ended up getting the gig by default, and the council was just me and Assistant Vice Principal Cankles, whose name I cannot recall.)

So: Imagine my surprise when I found myself as one of the four nominees for the Best Twitter-er in Columbia. ME! I was shocked. Thrilled! Amazed! Heartbroken.

Yes, heartbroken. Because of the three other nominees in my category, one is my late, great, wonderful friend Rick Stilwell. He died on January 11, 2013, and there he is, his name right above mine, nominated to be Columbia's Best Twitter-er of 2013. 

The thing is: He deserves to win. I think that the first time "Best Twitter-er" is a category in this poll, Rick should be the guy. Rick was the Randy Newman of our local Twitterati. Always there, always a favorite, always with just the right narrative, always showing up in our timelines with the right accompaniment for the timeline at hand. Did he win awards for it? Nope. Would he have needed to win awards for it? Nah. He just loved what he did. And then, after all these years, in spite of having passed on, when finally Rick is going to #WinAnyway - I hope, and I really do believe he should win - somewhere out there in heaven or the afterlife or whatever awaits, he'll be RandyNewmanizing his acceptance of the win. After the heavenly afterlife twitter version of a standing ovation, an amused @RickCaffeinated wouldn't want your pity, but he'd be grateful, and so honored, to have won your votes.

So, to get around to my point, I'd like to ask you, @drinkblogrepeat and @prodigalsam, with apologies for this late hour, to encourage your followers to vote for @RickCaffeinated instead of asking them to vote for you. Even though we lost our friend on that Friday morning in January, Rick's account continued to tweet - beginning with a tweet during our impromptu memorial toast in his honor at Jamestown Coffee Company - every five days, until his last tweet arrived... five months to the day after his passing, on June 11, 2013.

If Rick wins, I kind of like to think that we all win. Because really? I think we would.



*That's right. Math. I did some. I am 39 years and 157 days old as of this writing. That's 14402 days, 2057 weeks (plus 3 days), and I've been alive for 10 leap years (which is to say 10 February 29ths). I'm going to text my mother so that she can answer "473 months" whenever she needs to mention the age of her eldest child.

Cheetos To You!

Eme presenting to me the
Tell Them "Cheetos to you!" Award

Internet Nation, I accidentally got myself a catch phrase.

I make no secret about who I am, what I do, and the things I enjoy. I talk, you know? When I like things, I like to share that information with my friends so that maybe they will spend some of their hard-earned moneydollars on those things, too. Sometimes it happens in the other direction, although I try not to be a Cranky Cathy if I can help it. I'm curmudgeonly; I'm not rude. Usually. So it's pretty common knowledge that I like Tell Them, the organization and the women who run it. I advocate on their behalf, I contribute to their blog, and I participate in their online events. Internet, It Is Known. (It is known)

It's the online part which brings us here today. Like Vikings punter and glimmering sparklepony Chris Kluwe, my writing career was primarily born from the gaming communities (he's referred to such communities as "a seething pit of ignoramuses, born of misspoken children on the internet"), where, as he said, "if you go after someone, you'd better make sure you've got your ducks in a row or they're going to come right back at you". I'm in complete agreement with Mr. Kluwe: If I'm going to call you out, "the only way to do so without being ignored is to craft a completely logical argument that has a hook."

Which brings us to how I intervened in a fingerquote discussion fingerquote on Tell Them's facebook page. You can read the entire thread for yourself, if you want. It doesn't matter what you're saying or how reasonable your argument may be. If you start with hate, the rest of your argument, however logical it may be, is automatically a pile of poop. So, I replied, and then declared to friends "BABAM! They just got JBeebled!". And so #jbeebled you can now get, and it is a thing you can be, and be careful because it is typically contagious.

I was henceforth crowned Queen Bee of the World and a motion was carried to replace the word "kudos" with "cheetos". You might not even believe me if I told you how many women were saying "CHEETOS TO YOU!" yesterday. Heh. The thing is, Internet Nation: DON'T HATE. EDUCATE. And CHEETOS TO YOU, from the Tell Them "Cheetos to You" Award recipient and Queen Bee of the World, March 2013.

BABAM! You just got JBEEBLED!

Adluh Flour Explores Social Media

"Beth Ellis, controller for Allen Brothers Milling/Adluh Flour, says the family-owned company has always kept up with the changing world. Some of its early advertising centered around the Adluh Knocking Man. “We had a truck that went around town in local neighborhoods,” Ellis says. “Our customers were all home consumers. We would have people drive around and knock on the door.” If the homeowner could show the Knocking Man a bag of Adluh flour – Ellis says it was akin to a “like” on Facebook, in today’s terms – she was rewarded with a cash prize."

Gosh, that all sounds so familiar. Oh! Wait! That's because I'm quoted in this article, available on newsstands now, in the April 2012 edition of Columbia Business Monthly. :D

Adluh Flour is truly a beloved fixture and a landmark in my adopted hometown of Columbia, South Carolina, and I'm so pleased to for GraySail to be working with them. Talking with people, connecting, and exchanging information... well, it's just an awesome thing to do for a living, and I love doing it.

Huge thanks to writer Chris Worthy for taking the time to speak with me, and with Beth, and ultimately for turning out such a great article: Adluh Flour Explores Social Media.

Differences in the Time of Social Media

Lately I've been thinking about differences. With a big D, that is: Differences. The kinds of Differences which can ruin friendships. Specifically, I've been thinking about Differences in the time of social media.

Thinking about this makes me wear my "I'm keeping my mouth shut, behold my utter seriousity!" face, which I've helpfully demonstrated for you over there on the right.

You see, for me, for the kind of person I am and the kinds of friends that I have, it's usually been the case that once differences of opinion get addressed, that's that. To co-opt a gross cliché here, some of my best friends are Republicans! Our differences? They're okay, because we are entitled to our opinions. What I mean to say is, overall, we just don't need to constantly hash it out. We keep our mouths shut. Seriously.

Politics, religion, global warming.... heck, in the times of the Mommy Wars, it was, is, and will probably always be about how breast is best, or circumcision is genital mutilation, or my kid's carseat is safer than yours... whatever. You know how I feel, I know how you feel, and we move on.

So here's where Facebook, in specific, is causing me some discomfort, and some introspection.

Facebook groups and pages are the new Fish/Bicycle t-shirt, or "Don't blame me!" bumpersticker. Sure. I get it. What scares me about this, though, is how you can make a statement without actually making a statement, just by way of being a "joiner". You don't own that shit. You're not saying "I, Self Me, believe that the Holocaust is a lie! Wanna make something of it?"

No. You're not taking that heat.

You're saying "I passively agree with this thing someone else said, and did you happen to notice the moist and chewy pre-packaged safety in numbers deliciousness? No? Oh, well, then it's just a JOKE Holocaust denial anyway, quit being so reactionary".

It feels like receiving a "Dear Jen, learn how to park, you asshole!" note under my windshield wipers - not that I've ever received one of those, Aaron - every time I see a friend joining a group or liking a topic that I, personally, find reprehensible. No, I know it isn't about me. Yes, I am just as guilty as the next guy. Only my Passive Joiner Statements of Difference were things that I agree with. Acceptance. Equality. Understanding. Choice.

You know what They say about opinions.

So I think about the kind of person I am, and the kind of person I want to be. Do I want to be the kind of person who only surrounds herself with people of like mind? Because that sounds pretty boring. Do I want to embrace or ignore my (admittedly) knee-jerk reaction of "You know what? Friendship over." when I encounter these really grotesque statements that my friends seem to be supporting? Because if I got friend-dumped over being pro-choice, for example, I'd be pretty pissed. I'd be making noise about my right to my opinions. If I got friend-dumped for being Caucasian, well, aiiie discrimination!

It's always about rights and discrimination when it's not originating from your own self, innit?

I don't know what's right or what's wrong, here. I don't know where it starts or where it stops. What does it say about acceptance and equality if I'm going to refuse to be friends with you because you feel differently than I do?

As I said, lately I've been thinking about Differences. I don't have a clear answer, but at least I'm thinking. I hope my friends are, too.