Open Thread for Personal Stuff: February 2015 Cat Wearing Box in a Sink Edition

dhag I’m pretty sure there’s instant decaf in the cabinet, hiding among a dozen varieties of fruit teas. You should probably stay away from my coffee though, assuming you wanted to sleep that is 🙂

WatermelonSugar, I got sober in a 12-step program, but I don’t recommend them to people without HUGE caveats. I’m sorry they weren’t available to you – but on the other hand, you seem to be doing OK without them and I’m glad to hear it.

Relatedly, is TERF now considered a slur around here?

This is literally the question that set off the most recent DoomThread. I’ve seen you ask it repeatedly, but it’s quite likely that you haven’t gotten an answer because no one wants to start that fight again.

So I went to a Marilyn Manson concert last night, and did it ever go badly. Manson is a great performer, and it was fun to see him on stage. He’s not someone I would have normally gone to see on my own (meaning I’m not obsessed enough with his music to know much about him as a person), but my friend had an extra ticket and he’s a really iconic figure, so I went.

The opening band had a gothic sound and only two band members, the female lead singer and the guy on the keyboard. Their sound was atmospheric and the voice of the vocalist wasn’t that clear, mostly because opening bands frequently have bad sound quality. I think this is because everyone has to bring their own equipment and the title band gets the best stuff, but I don’t know details. What I do know is that the men around me started to get increasingly angry. By the end of the first song, I saw a guy lift his hand above the crowd and make a cupping, groping gesture with his hand, while other men chortled to themselves that she might as well get naked if she was going to suck. An older man who was shoulder to shoulder with me shouted “shut the fuck up!” during the first interval between songs and then “take off your clothes” during the second song. I saw all the women who were there with their boyfriends cast worried glances back his way. I was right on the edge of a little pocket echo chamber of sexist, increasingly angry men who were getting louder and increasingly aggressive. Everyone in the crowd was standing stock still, and I heard jeers elsewhere in the audience, so the group next to me wasn’t the only one of their kind in the audience. It was wrecking the mood for everyone. The one woman who told us that the opening band was “Hyde Park” in a tone that made it seem like she was a fan actually left.

When that guy yelled “take off your clothes”, I whipped around and yelled “oh, SHUT THE F*CK UP” at the top of my voice. I grew up as one of the boys and my voice is on the lowest end of the scale for women. When I yell, it’s a mean roar. I don’t even like to yell to be heard in a club because I just sound mean and angry whether or not I intend to, but this time that fierceness was a good thing. The man looked taken aback. I told him that what he had just said was inappropriate. How could he think that was okay? Couldn’t he see the faces of the women around him, and how fearful they were looking? He wasn’t the only one in the crowd, and he needed to stop. Well, he did stop. He actually started cheering for the band instead of heckling them. I hadn’t expected, or even wanted, him to take it that far, but I was relieved that he, at least, had stopped.

Then a guy behind me and to my left yelled “Get of the stage!” and while this itself wasn’t a sexist statement, he was part of the group that was making problematic comments and had some bad attitudes toward women. I whipped my head around again and yelled “F*ck OFF” before turning back to the stage. By this point I was trembling all over because I was angry and thought I might have to start punching people if this got any worse. I don’t even like to fight. I couldn’t perform well in Taekwondo because I get so stressed out when I need to fight, no matter the context. I got into physical fights with my male peers all the time growing up, but as my home life became increasingly abusive I began to see all forms of violence as unpleasant. But if a brawl was what it would take to keep those assholes to stop being abusive, sexist harassers, I was going to make it happen. I couldn’t just stand there as a shivering bundle of nerves until it was all over. All of it felt so wrong that it seemed better to risk a broken face than deal with it in silence.

Lucky for me, there was something intense and mean enough in my voice and body language that those men didn’t even want to brush shoulders with me after that. I began to raise my voice in support of the artist, to try to drown out the combined voices of the hecklers. I didn’t manage a revolution, but I gave it my all, and when Marilyn Manson finally came out I was relieved.

Not relieved enough to be able to jump and fist pump and scream the lyrics with the same enthusiasm since my body was still trying to tie itself in knots, but still glad it was over.

The whole thing has left a really bad taste in my mouth. I have seen a lot of opening bands. Most of them sounded terrible unless they were big enough to rival the main band and were therefor treated as equals. Never have I seen anyone jeered at that way. I admit that I go to see bands whose members are almost exclusively male, and whose audience is geared heavily that way as well, but…well, that’s really no excuse. It’s just an example of how toxic those boys club type groupings are to the women in their midst.

Tl;dr, version: I experienced organized and aggressive mob sexism for the first time at a Marilyn Manson concert and it was terrifying. I still feel uneasy and I would not willingly put myself through that again.

lordpabu — first, hugs if they’re welcome, coffee is on the counter and the kettle should still be warm if you want to rummage through the tea options. Second, your story reminded me of this —

http://youtu.be/JAT_YsRb8NI

Because EA may well feel like kissing VV, but you do NOT tell her what to do.

NOPE, no sleep tonight. This damn Tassimo will be the end of me.

On bringing backchannel arguments onto WHTM: please don’t. I guess it’s not technically against the rules (in that I don’t see it written anywhere), but people are starting to email me about it in my mod capacity and it’s putting me in a really fucking awkward position. I don’t want anyone to have to censor themselves, but I don’t want people worried that their private conversations are going to end up on the blog, either. Can we please just not?

Oh, I really love the sound of Opheliac! Emilie Autumn has this amazing voice with incredible range and richness in sound. I especially love it when she starts to edge into rockstar scream of anger and/or anguish territory though. That’s the kind of sound that keeps me hooked on rock (and it’s derivatives) as a genreand I can’t get enough of the female vocalists who can pull it off. The world needs more more more of that!

Oh, toujoursgal, so much sympathy. Here, have a hug.

And – whoever the anonymous person was who donated to me? I’d really like to thank you. I can’t even tell you how much that generosity means to me. I’m sending some drawings to the other people who helped me, once I get settled, and I’d really like to send one to you. I mean, it won’t be super duper fancy, and my style is pretty cartoony, but I am a pretty okay artist, and I’d like to say thank you. So, you know, if you want, email me? And I’ll send you a picture.

Oh, I know the feel of failing to eat regular meals, and blanking on taking meds all too well. *hug* And all too often other people don’t understand, they blink at you and say ‘How could you not notice you haven’t eaten in a couple of days?’ when I find it all too easy to do so. That’s one of the things I love about here…people understand.

For me depression often means apathy and numbness more than the crying jags and suicidal ideation most people think of. Sometimes I’ll just realize that I haven’t felt a feeling in weeks.

Toujouragal–I totally get it. Depression is a sneaky thing. I am a major supporter of good therapy, especially if you have someone you have worked with before and like. Hugs and warmth if you would like some.

WWTH–I usually get the same way when my depression first sneaks in. I just kind of drop off the face of the earth, it feels like. The crying and suicial thoughts only kick in when the Numb has been around a few months.

I try to celebrate Little Victories.

Yesterday, for example, I not only took a shower, but I also shaved my legs. Little? Very. Victory? For me, right now, most definitely.