Pudgy Indian

"Depressed? Researchers say hang in there." This is a headline in The Oregonian newspaper I glanced at in a paper box on my almost daily journey to the BOO. Oddly, I've been unable to find it on the internet, so I went to Grendel's to get a cup of coffee and to see if my eyes were mistaken by checking out their copy. I was right. Turns out these researchers are suggesting drugs, and lots of them, or new combinations of drugs.

I have/do suffer from depression. It stems around many events that have happened in my life and how I interpret them into my soul: I was raped as a child. Sexual repression. Alcoholic father (deceased) and despondent mother. Raised on television. Living in a completely insane world. Living in a world out of balance. Living in a world that I know in many places is absolutely CRUEL!

When I went to a therapist, especially when I was starting a powerful series of breakdowns in dealing with the child rape I hadn't dealt with until that time, he suggested anger management and sending me to a psychiatrist for drugs. I told him there is only one drug I would use to help my depression. Marijuana. I've heard of the horrific side effects of the pharmaceuticals that big corporations are trying to shove down the throats of the nation in order to make capital. They don't have this business because they want to cure anything. If it's cured, you can't make money off of it. I don't trust those fucking bastards. Marijuana has worked for me. Therapy is a good way to deal with depression, but each therapist is as individual as the depression. You have to find one that fits or it aint gonna work.

My depression is going away. I haven't had a breakdown in months. This is what I did.

I have gone through a series of breakdowns, and I claim each and every one of my emotional breakdowns as mine. I Love each and every one of them. Why? Because they moved me to healing. They were a release of emotional and physical tension built up from years of abuse, an alcoholic father, living in an occupied territory, sexual repression, genocide, and so much more. My breakdowns consisted of fetal position mild to intense convulsions, finger knotting, uncontrollable crying. My body was releasing all that shit that had been held in for so many years because of abuse and pain. These would last from just a few seconds to three and a half hours, one time three in one day, five big ones in a whole weekend, and a series of small ones along with it. These are MINE! They are not bad. They are not horrible. It was a natural cleansing of my body and spirit. Claiming my own pain as mine and letting my body and spirit deal with it in the best ways it knew how was a great healing ceremony for me.

My daughter is a good helper, though she doesn't know it. It is the fact that I am helping a fellow human being grow up to be a beautiful human being. To teach her to Love and Forgive herself. To explain to her the beauty that is within her by being born a woman. I am reading her the book, "Cunt," by Inga Muscio. Her mom is very much repressed and to her mom, the human form is one of the most disgusting things on earth (she is a Christian). So I try to teach my daughter the beauty that is her because she is a woman. The best way I figured out to do this is to use the knowledge gained by that wonderful goddessy woman, Inga Muscio, who expressed women's beauty through her wonderful book, "Cunt." Felicia, here is the expression of women's power by a fellow woman. I also share with her all the cool women I know. There are a lot of them out there, and they all express their beauty differently. I try to expose Felicia to as many examples as possible of the expressions of beauty women create in this world: journalism, radio, sexuality, clothing, food, anger, television, self-understanding, etc. I enjoy doing my best to help my daughter become the wonderful human being I already know she is, and that helps me deal with my depression as well.

Activism is another big helper for me. "Action is the antidote to despair." I've heard that a million and a half times in my life. A friend and I produce a radio program and host a cable access television show. There is nothing so sweet as telling people, "What we need is a Revolution? But don't forget, in this Revolution, there should be no killing, because not killing is a Revolutionary act! So we have to be clever. How do we get it all back and not kill anybody? How do we bring down this patriarchal rape culture and change the world for the better so generations to come can enjoy this world as well?" I get to say that to a lot of people. We are all leaders in the Revolution. As a leader in the Revolution, what can you do to change the world?

Smoking pot has helped me. In a world so crazy and insane, one of the best and healthiest choices I've made is to become a pot smoker. I read "Marijuana Myths, Marijuana Facts." I've read many books related to the drug war and know the potential problems (all punitive) that can come from being so open about what I do. But this is mine. It may not work for you. Marijuana doesn't kill. Alcohol and cigarettes kill. War kills. Marijuana gives me a euphoria not unlike the feeling one gets after a real wonderful orgasm without all the wet wonderful fun. The best marijuana is, afterall, the flowers of the female plant. Flowers are the sex organs of plants. Their leaves also play a role, and when prepared in the many wonderful fashions one can do and are consumed, create a wonderful euphoria even more intense than when you smoke it. Sex, for me, is FANTASTIC when in this state. Sex is FANTASTIC in any state, but this state is another creative way in which to explore sexual expression. Unlike pharmaceuticals, there are no unhealthy side effects from smoking pot. When high, I can function like I am sober. In some ways better, in some ways, head in the clouds. Works for me!

Sex. Sex is a great way in which to deal with depression. Sex is the natural expression of beauty and tension that build in our personal worlds. There is nothing like a good orgasm to keep us become strong and beautiful in the Revolution. To share orgasmic beauty with one or more partners or, more importantly, YOURSELF! Sexual exploration is OK! In fact...It is healthy! I Love Sex. I haven't had sex with someone in a year and a half. I'm slutty, but I'm also shy. I Love talking about sex because when I get back into it, I want it to be BEAUTIFUL! I want it to be FUN! Until then, I masturbate. I am reading Inga Muscio's book, "Cunt," as I've mentioned many a time on this blog. I'm currently in the chapter about orgasms and she encourages women to explore the possibilities of female orgasms. FUCK YEAH! We all need good orgasms. She also mentioned that men are afraid to explore their sexual natures, which is true. It's sad. We don't talk about jacking off with each other. I've heard many songs about female masturbation, but rarely hear songs about male masturbation. For me, there is nothing like having an orgasm. They feel so fucking great! It's much more fun when I'm sharing, but the intense pleasure I feel when I cum is very healing and most excellent for depression. I Love myself enough to make myself feel good. It hasn't been until recently, that I really explored this part of myself other than hand to cock, rub profusely until wonderful magic happens...repeat. It is how I know I'm a slut. I have to exercise this part of myself, my sexual expression, otherwise, I'D GO CRAZY! Lately, my solo sexual expressions involve lighting, touching my skin with various cloth or fingers, full body massages, smells and atmosphere, then BANG! BiG OlE OrgaSMO! YEAH! Then I'm off to face another day of this Crazy Beautiful World, and repeat said action more often than not, several times a day. INGA MUSCIO! YOU ARE A GODDESS, AND SO ARE ALL OF YOU WOMEN! Orgasms, affection, fun wonderful wet beautiful sex is good for depression. You can't fuck a pill. You can't masturbate with a pill. And those pills, figuratively speaking, will fuck you up and often have the side effect of decreasing ones natural sexual desires.

Beauty! Yassir! The world is a beautiful and wonderful place. I will, from time to time, fall to my hands and knees on a sidewalk here in town to gaze into the Loving beauty of a flower. I have many scarves and other beautiful cloths and things in my room. I Love flowers. Flowers remind me of the gateway of life, the pleasure center of women. Women's anatomical jewels look like a flower. Gladiolas are my current favorite for that physical likeness beauty. Daphne is one of my favorite smells. I Love iris, and roses, and daffodils, and cherry blossoms, and corcus, and so many more. I Love crossing the Burnside Bridge and seeing the beauty of my river as many times as possible throughout the week. I Love the Beauty in all of the women I see walking by. I Love looking at architecture and choosing which style I like best. I Love parks and trees. I Love animals and babies and playgrounds. I Love the sounds of the busy city and the nature of birds and wind and squirrels, goats, cats, dogs, rabbits. I Love the beauty in my friends and the beauty we share together. I Love to touch the trees and the plants along my journeys. I love to feel flower petals against my face. I Love paintings and sculptures and poetry and writing and there is beauty all around me all the time in this crazy and wonderful world. Beauty! It helps with depression. I Love hugging and experiencing and sharing life with my fellow human beings, especially those I Love dearly. Beauty! Fantastic for dealing with depression.

Laughter. In earth based societies, laughter is a SACRED act, just like sex. To laugh is to release through humor the tensions of the day. To laugh. Margaret Cho is my favorite comedienne. She has made me laugh so hard that one time tears were actually squirting out of my eyes, an act I have not been able to duplicate since. She is so beautiful and so funny. I used to have fantasies of telling her I want to have sex with her, because, well, I do. I would tell her the sexiest thing about me, besides the fact that I would do all I could to send her to the world of many or wonderful orgasms (Eugene Wonka and the Orgasm Factory), but if I snored too loud, she could kick my ass out of her room and tell me to go home. "South Park: The Movie," had me laughing so hard that after it was over, I laughed for at least another half hour. Laughter, there is a good, natural tool, to help with depression and not have the horrific side effects that pharmaceuticals have, with the exception of the occasional sore rib, belly and face muscles.

Crying is another great form of release. Aint nothing like a good cry. THANK YOU OH GODESSES AND GODS FOR THEM THERE TEAR DUCTS! Some movies are designed to make you cry. Tears of joy. Tears of sadness. A physical expression of wondrous emotions. Explore them. Feel them. FEEL THEM REAL FUCKING GOOD! And release them. There needs to be a flow to them. Cry when you need to cry. I met one of my friends, or I should say that I created a great friendship, because I needed a shoulder to cry on one day, and the only person I could find was my then acquaintance, Julie (since then, fantastic friend). I had found out my cousin had been murdered over the weekend about a year ago and I needed a shoulder to cry on. [I'm crying now]. She was the only one I even vaguely knew down here at the BOO, which is where I was when I found out. I just told her, "I need a shoulder to cry on. I just found out a cousin of mine was murdered on the rez. Can I cry on your shoulder." I was already crying, and she was so compassionate. She even took me to her home and fed me. A few days later, I hooked up with my friend Leigh Anne, though we were more like acquaintances like Julie and I were. I wound up crying all over our lunch. She took me to her home, and I spent most of my time there crying on her couch in front of her and her husband and I am so glad they were there for me even though I barely knew either of them. SEE THERE IS BEAUTY IN THE WORLD! Crying, it's good for depression.

Dance. Emma Goldman, Awesome historical woman extrordinaire, said something like: "If I can't dance at your Revolution, I aint gonna come." Che Guevara, worlds greatest Revolutionary, was also the worlds worst dancer. How do we know he was the worlds worst dancer? Because he danced, frequently, and every time was not a very good dancer. My housemate, Heidi, is a folk dancer. She has studied many different forms of dancing from all over the world and has a children's international folk dance troupe. The woman is FUCKING AWESOME! When we first started getting to know each other, I think the big opener to our friendship was the Megaband event last year, which we both missed this year. It is an annual Contra dance, which is a form of partner type line dancing that has been done for centuries in parts of Europe. You create this great and fun flowery patterns by following the callers instructions. It requires a little teaching prior. My favorite thing to do is spin. There are some wonderful spinners out there. It is great feeling, sharing, that centrifugal force with a woman, though I've done it with men also, who were also excellent spinners. I Love women's energy more, however. It's not only fun as all get out to contra dance, it is also a lot of fucking fun to watch all the wonderful flowery patterns that get created and the occasional humor one feels when someone in the line fucks something up. It is even more fun if they are actually able to find their way back into the pattern. I also do a spinning dance. I spin by myself, arms out and swinging as my feet and legs turn my body round and round. This is the type of dancing I do when I'm walking across the Burnside Bridge especially, but it doesn't matter where I'm at or what I'm doing, if I feel like doing it, I'll dance right in front of your face to no music at all, just the natural rhythms in my soul. Dancing works for me in dealing with my depression as well as just being an out and out fun way in which to express beauty in the world.

Exploring ones depression. As stated, my depression stems a lot from my historical issues. I take the time to sit with my depression, which, is not always easy. As I've told my friends recently, it has taken me most of my 42 years just to be able to look in the mirror and to be honest about the person I see looking back at me. Not judge, just see my face, who I am, how I dress, and even more recently, to Love that person looking back at me. To Love myself. I ask myself why I'm depressed. Lack of sex? Current solution, masturbate in fun and beautiful ways. Father deceased from alcohol, I miss him so much and so much pain has been caused in my life around the process of losing him to that medicine that can be abused and used as a tool of self destruction. Sexual repression from abuse both sexual and verbal. I try not to judge the things I see in myself, but instead, explore them for what they are. I hurt right here in my soul. OUCH! THAT'S TENDER! OUCH! I experience the pain to release it to the beauty I see in the world. Sometimes it was expressed in serious breakdowns. Lately when I feel it, it is crying that comes forth. And it is all mine, and it is beautiful. I make friends with it, which is not always an easy process. None of this happened for me overnight. It took time and patience of which I would occasionally run out of one or the other or both. To Love myself. To forgive myself. To heal. To create beauty in the world.

Scarves work for me. Men's clothes are so fucking boring. I have been exploring a new expression of who I am by how I dress, and I like using scarves. Currently, I only wear several as I just started this exploration. I have, however, probably a hundred or more. I also have a sari, which I don't know how to wear, but is fun. I also have many sarongs, which I wear at home and have not yet felt comfortable in wearing in public. Bright beautiful colors infused into the cloth that surrounds my body. But I love wearing the scarves I've started wearing. And why do I wear them? That's right, to catch the attention of women. And it works. And it makes me feel beautiful. And I enjoy feeling beautiful with women, because most women are beautiful to me. In today's patriarchal society, women understand and know the joys of beauty that are needed in the world and I Love getting women's attention using cloth. It is my natural sexual desires in action. I am too shy to go beyond just catching their attention and talking with them as I sit around the BOO or work or whatever. "Hello beautiful woman. I am wearing this bright plumage to catch your attention."

Let's be honest. All creative expression comes from our sexuality. Sexuality is a beautiful and wonderful thing whose desires and beauty often spread out into the world of art. Music and musical instruments represent both male and female and come together to create such a beauty to motivate us to dance, all of which is an expression of our beautiful and natural sexual desires and how we express them. Anger, Love, Beauty, ugliness, Fear, Joy, Sadness, landscapes, the beautiful form of the body and it's natural expression in the world, to interconnect, and make a better world for one and all. SEXUALITY IS A GOOD THING! HECK! IT'S A GREAT FUCKING AND WONDERFUL THING! Sexuality is what creates the wonderful tensions where I find beauty. Flowers is the natural sexual expression of plants. I Love flowers! I Love sex! As difficult as the journey has been for me to get here to tell you all of this on a public forum such as my blog, I just have to tell you, especially from reading Inga Muscio's book, "Cunt," which I hope more people, male and female and otherwise gendered read. Women are the gateways of life, and that gateway is also the center of her pleasure. Men should honor that! I Love it! I Love women's sexuality. I Love women. I Love them as friends and Lovers and fellow Revolutionaries and sometimes all of the above or any combination and much much more. I Love sharing orgasms with women and myself. I Love holding hands and walking down the street with women. I Love talking and cooking with women. I Love eating food with women. I Love going to concerts with women. I Love brainstorming ideas of Revolution with women. WOMEN FUCKING ROCK! My writing is a form of my sexual expression. My rage, my joy, my desire, my depression, all of it.

My best advice to anybody who suffers from depression is to avoid the drugs unless absolutely necessary. If you use the pharmaceuticals, wean yourselves off as soon as possible because that shit in the long run is not good for your health. There are other methods that work for healing depression that don't involve using pharmaceuticals. I use the above tools because they work for me. They may or may not work for you. Try them on for size. See if they fit. See if you can create something unique and beautiful for yourself. Most importantly, Love and Forgive yourself as you explore those things that create a strong and beautiful mental health within you. You deserve to Love yourself. You should forgive yourself for all self perceived short comings. Use them as examples to help live your life by, because more often than not, they aren't short comings, just expressions of unhealthy ways in which we look at ourselves.

THIS, MY FRIENDS, IS ALL PART OF THE REVOLUTION. THIS, AND SO MUCH MORE! Get out and in there and explore your world and find what works for you a create MUCH OVERWHELMING BEAUTY AND LOVE. I think your worth it. I think I'm worth it. I think future generations are worth it. Find what works for you. Don't be afraid to change things, discard things, pick other things up, discard them later. Don't be afraid to share. Explore these things and find out what works for you. All things have natural flows and most work on their own times and not that of the clock or current calendar. Some will remain with us for the rest of our lives. Some we may only try once. It is up to us. Do what you can and make this world a better place for one and all, including yourself.

REVOLUTION NOW!