Tag Archive | Mad

Dear White People . . . I Have the Right to Be Angry

*If you are my friend and you are White, – if this offends you, contact me.  Have the difficult conservation with me.  If you aren’t willing to have a conversation with me about this, we aren’t really friends.*

I’ve started to see every white person I don’t know as the enemy/a threat.  I’m not exactly sure when it first started, but it was probably around the time that Mike Brown was murdered.  I didn’t grow up afraid of White people. Even though my mother made sure I knew the history of the United States, I lived the first 32 years of my life believing in the goodness of all people, regardless of their skin color.

I THOUGHT I understood racism.  I thought racism was dying out, and racism was just based on old ideals, in the south. I thought as we spent more time conversing and getting to know each other, racism would die.  After all, “Some of my BEST FRIENDS ARE WHITE.” They love me and I love them. They’ve never treated me any differently because I was Black*.

Racism is the herpes of -isms. Sometimes you forget it’s even there. But then, there is a flare up that very lewdly reminds you, “Oh Bitch, I NEVER Left.” It’s been there, lurking under the surface just waiting to ruin your whole got damn day. Be it the random white dude who won’t let you over on the freeway, to the lady checking your math, right after you give her the total, about money She Owes You. Or even, The News.

Before Mike Brown, I felt like the bad apples would eventually see the error in their ways, and we would all live together in harmony. Post-Ferguson, when people I’ve known my whole life wouldn’t stand up and speak up, I was . . . lost/hurt/angry/frustrated/devastated/other words that mean angry.

Why aren’t you fighting for me and my people? Why aren’t you in the streets, and talking to your family members about what is going on in the news? How could you even let the words come out of your mouth, “Well if he wouldn’t have . . . “

Strangers were livid about the collective rage coming from Black Millennials. They were livid that we were standing up for ourselves and being vocal about injustice. I’d never seen such ugly comments on internet articles. The wave of unarmed children, women, and men, killed by police officers, that followed Mike Brown’s murder has done nothing to illicit rage in some my White Counterparts.

They keep killing my people! Even children in the park aren’t safe! My skin color puts me in immediate danger every hour of every day! I’m afraid when I drive at night to get pulled over by a cop.  Help Me! Speak Up for Me! Can’t you see my pain! HELP ME!

It was at this point I realized the real issue.  The ROOT of Racism, is WHITE. PRIVILEGE. {a term for societal privileges that benefit people identified as white in Western countries, beyond what is commonly experienced by non-white people under the same social, political, or economic circumstances.}

Add to that a sense of Entitlement, and we are all pretty much fucked.  Because YOU don’t want the status quo to change.  You are safe, comfortable, and happy with the way YOU are treated in the world we currently live in.  In your bubble, nothing is wrong.  Because you don’t worry about your children when they go out to play, why should you notice/protest that I have to have that worry?

Enter All Consuming Rage.

I am WORTH your concern.  How DARE you live a life of blissful ignorance, with my people’s blood running in the street?!?!?!?! My Life Matters.

BLACK. LIVES. MATTER.

That’s not a fucking Slogan. It’s a truth. And the fact that your response is, “All Lives Matter,” is not only insulting, but Bullshit.  The correct phrase should be, “All Lives that Mimic My Own Matter.”

I’ve started to re-evaluate everything I ever knew about the people around me.  I’ve started to look at certain situations, and ask new questions. I find myself assuming motivations, before I start a conversation to actually understand motivations.

Then I’m pissed again, because that’s what YOU do. It’s why I’m angry in the first place. The difference between me and YOU, I catch myself.

I do the FUCKING WORK. I take the next step, acknowledge my hurt/pain/fear and it’s affect on the situation, and try to make sure I’ve done everything to understand your point of view and/or educate you.

I’m tired. I’m  FUCKING Exhausted.

Because I have to do my work, your work, and extra work.  I’m So Damn Tired. Why won’t you do the work? Why won’t you talk to the people in your life that refuse to listen to me? Help Me Please!!! I’m so tried of carrying this burden on my own.

{I went to the doctor because I was feeling off last week.  My blood pressure was 200/148. That’s no hyperbole. This is why I’m tired. It’s a miracle I haven’t stroked out yet.}

And this has caused my current mindset to be, “If you aren’t For Us, you’re Against Us.”

I have the right to be angry.  The fact that I haven’t started fighting people in the street is a testament to my fairly decent upbringing, and my need to keep my job. Stop telling me why I should turn the other cheek.  Stop telling me it’s going to get better, especially if you aren’t actively working to make it better.

I’m done trying to be nice, and quiet, and calm.  I’m Fucking Angry.

Do something, or shut-up. Point. Blank. Period.

 

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I’m Mad as Hell . . . and I’m Not Going to Take It Anymore

I’m Mad my former best friend betrayed me.  I’m Mad that I cared too much about being the bigger person to tell her to go Fuck Herself.  I’m Mad I’m still hurt about her not caring I’m hurt. I’m Mad she didn’t care enough about a friendship we spent 10+ years building, and instead chose to compromise it with someone she had known for less than 6 months. I’m Mad that we had an amazing Idea for a book that would have made us so much money, and now it won’t be written because we don’t speak. 

I’m Mad as FUCK I fell in love with a man that wasn’t attracted to me.  I’m Mad I let him make me feel ugly, and unattractive.  I’m Mad I stopped looking at myself as a woman, and instead of as a thing that needed to be fixed.  I’m Mad I still won’t speak of the other fucked up things that went on in our relationship because I care about other people’s feelings.   I’m pissed the fear of rejection he, seemingly systematically, instilled in me follows me everywhere I go.  I’m Mad as FUCK I’m afraid to like someone.  Not because I don’t think I’m awesome, but because I don’t want to risk losing something great again.  I’m Mad he played me in public, with my family. . . 

Speaking of Family . . . I’m Mad my Biological Family is full of assholes.  I’m Mad my Brother is a bitch, and lets his Bitch wife run his life.  I’m Mad my brother would rather kiss my father’s ass than expect better for himself.  I’m Mad my niece would believe anything he would say about me.  I’m Mad I lived in Arizona and my support system was not related to me, with the exception of my Older Sister.  I’m Mad I will probably never speak to that side of my family again, because I don’t know how to speak to them without telling all of them to Go Fuck Themselves.

I’m Mad at my job, for exposing me to the most fucked up people I’ve ever met.  I’m Mad I’m so out of touch with that side of society, that I can’t help them the way I want to.  I’m Mad people don’t understand how prevalent Domestic Violence is. I’m Mad the women I am trying to help are their own worst enemy.  I’m Mad I’m struggling to see past a Survivor’s Mentality, and into the person they have the potential to be.  I’m Mad the same woman who says she cares about her child, smokes like a chimney.  I’m Mad there is an entire generation of children who are being raised with a role Model like Nicki Minaj.

I’m Mad Nicki Minaj is even an artist.  I’m Mad people call Eminem a Misogynist  but Nicki can’t refer to a female without using the words Bitch Hoe or Cunt.  I’m Mad the Feminist Movement has completely ignored Black Women and our struggle. I’m Mad I know what Rape Culture is. I’m Mad Rick Ross made a song about Date Rape, and no one is rioting and burning his music. I’m Mad I know what Misogyny is.  I’m Mad I Can’t be a Feminist, cuz I’m Black, Fat, and Educated.  

I’m Mad stress is making me gain weight.  I’m Mad the sun doesn’t fucking shine in Michigan like EVER.  I’m Mad I have no motivation to do anything anymore.  I miss Arizona, and the Tucson JCC Gym, and having a gym where I work.  I miss being happy driving and seeing the sun.  I’m Mad I don’t see mountains while I’m driving anymore.  I’m Mad I feel like I ran away from Arizona, because I just couldn’t take not being loved anymore. 

I’m Mad that I have so much anger inside of me all the time that all i want to do is punch someone.  Like literally punch a stranger in the face at all hours of the day.  I’m Mad this anger is causing me to lose friends, and push them away.  I’m Mad no one understands why I’m so angry, and I can’t vocalize it without feeling like I’m just complaining about petty shit.

I’m Mad people date/marry/stay with people they don’t want to be with.  I’m Mad I know more people who have cheated on their significant others than I do people who are faithful.  I’m Mad almost every male I know married the person they thought everyone accept, not the person that made them happy.  I’m Mad people stay in relationships for “Stability/Children/Family” but are willing to ruin someone else’s life to find their happiness.  

I’m Mad I spent years searching for the perfect man, then I found him.  I’m Mad I’m TERRIFIED of him.

I’m Mad I want to be happy, but don’t see it happening anytime in the near future.  I’m Mad I live with my mother.  I’m Mad I’m writing this blog, and hoping no one reads it because if they do, they are going to know I’m slowly losing my mind.  I’m Mad talking to people is frustrating for the first time in my life.  Because I always seem to be on the verge of tears if we discuss something of merit or value.  I’m Mad the only people who seem to understand my “Second-hand Trauma” have trauma of their own, so I don’t really want to burden them with mine. 

I’m just Mad.  I’m trying to move past it, and it’s not working.  So I thought I would write this, and maybe just saying it to strangers would help.