Thursday, June 7, 2012

Where You Been At Tho?!

I know I've been neglecting AAI. I'm sorry. It's been a combination of lack of sleep (just tryna stay true to the title of the blog, people).

Side note: I hate when people see how tired I am and then proceed to ask me how may hours of sleep I got. Like why is you in my business that heavy? Do I ask you how many calories you ate yesterday? Like if you're not gonna provide me with a food diary, you don't deserve my verbal sleep diary.

Worse is when I actually humor these sleep-privileged bastards and tell them how many hours I slept (ie, 3-4), and they're like (pretend there is an echo for this, because that is how I hear it...not only because sleep deprivation leaves me sensitive to sound, but because the reminder of how much sleep others get instead of me reverberates through my brain like in Lifetime movies when there is horrible foreshadowing of the evil husband saying something like "I would KILL for that much" and you're like, "I get it. He will kill this woman for some moneyz. Thanks, foreshadowing!) "OH MAN, I CAN'T DO LESS THAN SEVEN OR EIGHT HOURS."

SLEEP PRIVILEGE. Yes, I opened the privilege door. With the exception of OD circles under my eyes and almost looking like a zombie, being an insomniac is an invisible minority--also cuz you're likely to never see us in daylight--so those who sleep are sleep privileged to me. Also can we talk about the people who are complaining about the people eating people's faces not getting sympathy because they're being called zombies? Their argument is that these face-eaters are mentally ill people who are not getting the help they need and are being stigmatized. As an insomniac, I can speak with moderate confidence on zombies, because we are the walking almost-dead. As a crazy person--excuse me, mentally ill person--I can definitely speak with confidence on mental illness and all the joys,confusions, and whatthefucks we bring to the table.

These face-eaters are not mentally ill--they are doing muthafucking BATH SALTS, which I did not know was a drug until like a few months ago and I was like, "Wow, that's kind of impressive that people are turning hygienic products into drugs and then looking like they are the least hygienic people in all of Dirtland."

These are bath salts. They go with washcloths and skin. Not up noses. I have placed these bath salts strategically in my bathtub so that the visual helps you associate where they are supposed to go, like when you're in a restaurant and you see those "Stop Choking" signs that are spelled out in too many steps for you to read so as to effectively administer the Heimlich maneuver in a reasonable time span (better hope the non-choking party can speed-read!), but help you associate someone placing one's hands on one's own neck with the fact that they are choking. (Leave it to Germans to make practically punching someone's chest cavity into a life-saving strategy.)

These are meth heads who had to step down on the drug finances because they couldn't afford the Cheetos they were once accustomed to. It's analogous to how people who become cokeheads have to step down their finances and step up their crackitude by moving to crack. Very simple. And yes, while there is a comorbidity with mental illness and substance abuse, this is not mental illness. This is an explicit choice to exfoliate their brain cells with bath salts instead of their dead skin cells. I never thought I'd be in a position to prefer crackheads over anyone else. The only pity I feel here is that bath salt heads (that's what we gotta call them now, right?) don't have the luxury of eating their choice from the crackhead food pyramid and have to just downgrade their whole gastrointestinal lives so that they only have to eat household products (and faces).

It is possible that they can still afford the question mark of the battery acid. And for those of you who think I'm being insensitive, this is real life. I'm talking about crackheads in New York--some of them are cool, some of them throw popcorn at you on the A train and make you late for work because the police have to get them off the train, and some of them punch through car windows to grab GPS systems to sell them to pawn shops and make you question whether the block you're living on is a sound choice. (Thank you, Giuliani, for helping alleviate some of this tho.)

Also, I'm a mental illness elitist--I will associate myself with only the finest of DSM diagnoses, thank you. These protesters are like the equivalent of subject headlines--make a real cause before you make a posterboard. You're taking away posterboards from kids who actually need them. And don't act like you were never in 5th grade trying to make a presentation about the constitution only to find out that the 99-cent store--which is intended to be like the emporium of posterboards--were somehow all sold out. If you're following my very sound logic, defending people who do bath salts and get called zombies in the name of prevention of stigma against the mentally ill is taking 10 points off social studies projects for 5th-graders. THINK ABOUT THE CHILDREN.

No comments:

Post a Comment