This week's Five Star Mixtape is brought to you by the continued stigmatization of intellectual disabilities, an inner conflict triggered by intended kindness, repetition compulsion, the bittersweet experience of birth and death, one of the weirdest lies we tell children, the fact that some things don't change, and Richard Wright:
Pixar, for that one moment, you helped make that stigma and discrimination happen. When words moron and idiot are thrown around like nothing, kids learn that it is ok to insult someone’s intelligence. Young kids learn that a good way to make someone mad is to call them stupid and pretend to look like someone with an intellectual disability, because of course it is awful to be that.
Last December when she was hospitalized and almost died I didn’t call for the Chaplin, I didn’t ask her to be blessed. I was not deliberately not calling on God but He had ceased to be of comfort to me. As I held Bridget down for the IV and she screamed mommy hurt then rested in MY arms afterwards I was amazed at her capacity for love.
A God of love should not allow any of that to have happened.
He told me it was my fault and my child mind took that moment, and every other moment since, and filed it into the “It Is You” category of my psyche. Don’t misunderstand. This is not an essay explaining the early makings of a narcissist. Nay, this is an account of a Virgo who was primed to take a hell of a lot more responsibility for the suffering and actions of those around her.
the day went by slowly yesterday....we took turns sitting at his side, making him comfortable, massaging his head and feet, telling him that we were all here, that it was okay to leave. his breathing was hard to listen to, increasingly pained and underwater. we know, as mammals, when death is at the doorstep. knock knock. who's there.
it was the day after the solstice, the day after the longest day in the year.
I’m sharing this critical information with you because
a) one of my polls revealed that some of you go commando
b) I recently tried to steal a tooth and I was really thankful I had on panties.
But seeing them beating that man on television, it must have scared me so deep, in a place so hidden, that I didn’t even know about it. My brain kept playing as though I were a regular teenager. But my body. My body ma. The body you gave me. My body knew the truth. My body locked the door from the inside without me even knowing it.
And because you are a fan of finding good, new writing online: