Reason's Greetings!

"Why would an atheist celebrate Christmas? You don't believe in god so you shouldn't even be allowed to!" Yes, people actually say this shit to me. Phrases like this one have been flooding my Twitter feed for the last week, I'm getting sick to the point of tears of hearing this drivel, and after perhaps a few too many I'm going to tackle this bullshit HOPEFULLY once and for all. Yes, there are atheists who also enjoy the Holiday Season, and it may surprise some of you to learn this, they do so for VERY DIFFERENT REASONS than you'd probably ever thought of.

Reasons up to and including, but by no means limited to, because I fucking want to.

It's common knowledge that what we now call Christmas is a mish-mash of hijacked pagan holidays with traditions stemming from the Vikings, the Romans, the Celts and then some. You don't need to consult your friendly neighborhood Bible Scholar about this, they've been teaching it in public schools even since I was a little girl. So NO, Jesus is NOT "the reason for the season" as many claim, this is not only historically inaccurate but factually untrue in ALL CONTEXTS. Besides, Unlike Jesus, at least there's evidence of Axial Tilt having a distinct effect of Earth's seasonal weather patterns.

So why, for those of us who DON'T believe in bullshit, would we want to participate? For the same reason many of us enjoy things like the Fourth of July or even Valentine's Day: Yes, I used those two examples deliberately: ONE is an American National Holiday (not in any way religious in nature) and one USED TO BE a religious holiday in ancient times but is generally no longer considered as such. Atheists, being human, tend to enjoy meeting in groups of people that they have a common bond with and having good times together, you don't HAVE TO BE an American Citizen to appreciate or acknowledge the significance of the Fourth of July. I never used to be a huge fan of Valentine's Day, I don't think a lot of people are in this day and age. It so happens to be my anniversary, so it has some extra special meaning for me & my family instead of what people THINK that meaning should be.

For a group of people who idolize a long-haired hippie that told people not to be assholes to people, today's Neo-Christians sure do enjoy being assholes to people.

No one OWNS a holiday, certainly no one owns THE Holidays, no matter what label you want to slap on the front of it you will never be able to honestly tell someone they are not allowed to enjoy a special day on their own terms because it's yours and yours alone. Nope, no dice. Atheists have families, too, are we not supposed to enjoy giving gifts to each other and eating meals together because YOU SAY SO?

I am very hard pressed to think of anything more anti-Christmas than greed, and no I'm not talking about Black Friday Corporate greed. Christians do not OWN Christmas, Jews do not OWN Hanukah nor do Wiccans OWN Halloween (at least they're happy to share with the rest of us, but it's still superstitious nonsense) and so forth: So you can stuff the self-righteous "Keep Christ in Christmas" anger straight up your chimney, I'M going to enjoy myself and you can't do a damn thing to stop me!

So why do I celebrate Christmas? Because of my friends, my family, and the best reason of all...

Because I fucking WANT TO.

Io Saturnalia, friends ^_^

What's the Point?

I've spent a great deal of my time deliberately trying to make a mountain out of a mole-hill, and for what I thought was a damn good reason: In late February of 2011 while I was deployed in Iraq, a male squad-mate forced himself into my room, grabbed my shirt-collar, threw me into a wooden wall-locker, then after searching my room B-Lined straight at me while I was barely off my floor. Several Shrinks & Lawyers later, I've come to agree with their assessment that this incident was extremely fucking likely about to become a rape, were it not for a male NCO that so happened to come strolling along past my still-open door. TO THIS VERY DAY, that incident was never formally or officially addressed, investigated or even acknowledged by my (now former) Commanding Officer nor my Unit: Certainly NOT for failing to report it, of course.

Now that I'm no longer in the Army (I got out this Summer) I've tried very hard, to my detriment, to raise as much awareness about this as I possibly can. I've been screaming it at the top of my lungs since the day I hung up my ACUs, and with the exception of some good folks I've gotten to know via the Twitter Atheist Community, I've received little to no support AT ALL: I've harangued the Army Times newspaper, reached out to what seems like a non-existent "Women Veterans Network" whom has yet to resound to ONE EMAIL almost 6 months after I initially contacted them, I've even written a very detailed letter, to include EVERYTHING surrounding the incident mentioned above, to a US Senator: What acknowledgement have I received for trying to clue in the public about JUST HOW SERIOUS the military's rape crisis really is?

With the exception of appearing on some Independent Humanist media programs, because they graciously agreed to allow me on their programs, ZILCH.

I don't want money, not for THIS. Maybe I'm just exaggerating here, but it seems like the louder I try to make myself sound, the harder people jam their fingers into their ears. Really? Is this how far things have degraded that people who try to speak out about sexual violence are seen as little more than an annoyance? I've even tried writing a book about the entire ordeal, lousy fucking writers' block killed THAT project (at least for now, I hope.) 

Why am I trying to do what feels like the right thing if no one wants to hear my side of things? What is the point of raising my voice, shaking my fists and gnashing my teeth for all the Internet to see just to be shut out and bypassed like the 14th beggar on the same city block? If you have no idea what I'm talking about AND have half-an-hour to kill, proceed no further until you've seen THIS, and hopefully when you're done my frustration conveyed in this post will make some degree of sense to you. 

Again, I am not doing any of this for money: I am doing this because I find it morally fucking abhorrent that the Army treats sexual assault & harassment as a means of punishing Soldiers who screw up instead of as the criminal acts that THEY ARE.

Would I be wrong in interpreting apathy for acceptance? Are people REALLY okay with things just the way they are? Whoah, I do hope not! How bad do things have to get that someone who breaks the rules, however severely, is objectified and dehumanized to such an extreme capacity because of it? Worse yet, that such things are quietly encouraged to continue by those in charge? I THOUGHT that this was an issue worth bringing up publicly once the boots came off for good, but it would seem that I've just been shouting into an abyss all this time. Trust me, I've tried the whole "Unrestricted Reporting" road while I was still in the Army, my own at-the-time C.O. deliberately ignored my story: Fuck him right in the eye, the coward.

Maybe I'm still not trying hard enough, maybe I need to aim higher if I want my story to truly be known.

I'm going to consult YET ANOTHER LAWYER, and then I'll do my damnedest open up the cyber-flood-gates, I'd kindly appreciate as much help that you'd be willing to give me.

I titled that original entry "Vae Victis" for a reason.

RANT: Survivor vs "Victim"

I've survived a great many horrendous things in my 32 years, and considering how things often pan out for women in my position I actually consider myself pretty damn lucky just to still be alive. I've done my share of very bad things (fortunately none of them got anyone killed) and what good I HAVE DONE with my life isn't much comfort in retrospect. At no point in my life have I professed to be a good or moral human being, I've also made no claim whatsoever to sanity (as any of my former squad-mates will probably tell you) but I do the best I can and try to enjoy my own life without imposing directly onto those of others. Even as an atheist, as much of an asshole as I can often be to theists and their tired-ass catch-phrases their priests & pastors taught them, I genuinely get no joy or jollies in arguing with them. In fact, I'm downright dreadful at debating for that very reason.

Maybe my bad experiences in life are a big part of what has shaped me as a person, but I still can't honestly say that they've really made me a "better person," just sharpened my awareness for suffering, at best. I'm a domestic violence refugee, I barely escaped a cult as it was solidifying it's purpose, I served in a war that I never agreed with started by a spoiled old cunt that I didn't vote for and I almost died on numerous occasions while deployed. Also, at the hands of at least one person and almost by two, a multiple rape survivor.

What a funny word, it is: "Survivor." To the uninitiated it does sound a bit heavy, and it's not something I talk about very often in public if only BECAUSE people's reactions to the term are often unpleasant. 

And quite frankly, unless I actually WANT TO open up and discuss my thoughts ON MY TERMS, it's no one's business but mine, maybe my lawyer as well but that's it, really. People have often tried to persuade and coerce me into spilling my secrets to them, even family members, but No Dice: Trying to force someone's memory of a painful incident is, in my experience, as selfish and cruel of them to do as inflicting the actual incident itself. If someone WANTS TO talk about the things that hurt them, they will, but that doesn't de-facto mean that THEY HAVE TO talk about anything WITH YOU just because you ask. If they don't want to talk about it, fine. It's not your job to try to convince them to, asking respectfully out of concern is fine but remember that NO MEANS NO and once that magic word is dropped, YOU WILL kindly STFU and drop it. 

I do my best not to let the things that hurt me haunt me so, but I see so many who let their pain literally become their lives that instead of wanting to be a helpful friend I feel like shying away. It's also hard for ME to remember my own advice at times, to stand aside and let that person process their pain on their own terms without intruding. I can offer a hand, a shoulder, but reasonably that's about it: I can't cry or scream someone else's issues FOR THEM, and I sure as shit have no right to try to MAKE THEM vomit out their story for my benefit, absolute worst case scenario I call the cops if things get violent. I try to do what I can when I can, but it's a tough balance to keep between being a friend and being a nosy jerk.

I have no right to expect others to tiptoe around me, if something irks me SO STRONGLY I'll either say something or walk away. That's just how I am.

I never wanted to be "that one" who lives their life through the lenses of PTSD Glasses, though I have an official diagnosis (finally) my issues are a part of me but they are not who I am as a person. I've known lots of people, mostly via the Army, who can barely function: Usually for one of two reasons, either their issues are more serious than they are actively willing to admit or take proper care of OR they seem to over-analyze every goddamn thing around them and quite vibrantly project their internalizations like a constant blood-spatter-pattern. On rare occasion, some of them find a wandering soul to cling to expecting that person to "save them."

If it sounds like I'm being insensitive or judgmental I do hope you can forgive me, but I'm not going to censor myself for any one else's benefit, especially on MY OWN SITE. I have been that damsel in distress, I used to find the casual ignorance and unknowing of others absolutely crippling, to the point of tears and great malaise. Until one hot day in Iraq, while conversing with yet another "saviour" I'd found, he offered me a tidbit of his insights on human beings in general: No one is ultimately responsible for your feelings, or how you express them, but you. Suffering is, to a point, an unfortunate fact of humanity and no one can reasonably expect nor demand that another person feel something that they simply don't. I found this puzzling at first, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't having some doubts about this person's sincerity but after having a good hard think about this for a few days, I found it hard to disagree with him on it.

No one HAS TO appeal to your emotions, however strong. Share your thoughts, express your feelings, bearing in mind you will have ZERO CONTROL over their reactions however poor or favorable to you.

In a way, I try to find a fucked up sort of peace in bad dreams and ill memories. I can't put my whole life on pause to go sob in a corner under a blanket anymore, I can only remind myself that I have no control over the images my brain shows me. I'm not in Iraq anymore, I'm home. I'm no longer in harm's way, it's been years since anyone from ANY ASPECT of my past has shown up on my doorstep demanding information, apologies or payment. I am in a pretty good place RIGHT NOW, this is no longer BACK IN THE DAY. If someone I don't want to talk to DOES show up at my doorstep, I have options (within the realm of the law) at my disposal.

I want my life to be my own, it's the only one I'm ever going to have. I've never been completely comfortable with the idea of relying on others for my own happiness or stability anyway, I rather like being the kind of person that can take care of themselves. Granted, I do have my bad days, and some days that are downright shitty. Some days I still go home in tears, but I do eventually get back up on my feet. I acknowledge that this isn't easy for everyone who has been in my boots, for many it may seem impossible. I get it, I've been there, what seemed to get ME out of that slump was coming face to face with my own mortality (NOT something I would recommend that anyone actively seek out for themselves, this is just MY side of things) and relinquishing all illusions of fate, destiny and control. Instead I embraced responsibility for my own life and well-being, even if at times it just boiled down to getting out alive.

I have severe PTSD, but I am not my disorder. 

No one is responsible for my feelings, for good or ill, but me.