Disabling Depression
I've been disabled longer than I thought because mental health disabilities exist as invisible disabilities. I take meds for depression, anxiety, and PMDD. I am never not in pain and I live in a very expensive city, in which I don't ever intend to leave. When I first became disabled, my "friends" stopped inviting me to things, outdoor events, and if they did invite me, they didn't think about my disabilities. This was mostly people I talked to in college and have completely cut them out of my life. I do have my disability to thank for showing me who my true family is. Now if only others were the same.
I've been publicly called a cripple, and even almost getting hit by a car on my own fucking street. "Move faster," *insert car honks of all variety,* and my personal favorite, "what's wrong with you?!" What's wrong with you that you're literally yelling at a stranger trying to cross her own street because the Lyft driver arrived at my one-way street house? It's also 2am on a Thursday! What happened to you? There will always be people out there who are and will always have the container for toxicity. I know what happened to me, my disability, my traumas and I chose to be a better person because of it. And I'm still fucking here; being myself as loud as I can.
I've tried to work a 40-hour work week while disabled, but couldn't do it. I've also tried a 30-hour work week, but it was so much more physically taxing that I had to quit. Additionally, navigating employment while disabled is truly an Amerikkkan nightmare. The marginalized suffer while the government and money control our class and are meant to divide us. I know many people who have lost family because of Covid. Disabled people are dying and no one cares, even before Covid.
I'm almost 30 and I see the lives of my able-bodied peers and think, "what's the point of all this if I can't even get a job? Not even my dream job, just a job where I can make money and use that money for leisure and assisting others?" Then the suicidal ideations builds and the more exacerbated my imposter syndrome becomes. Is it still imposter syndrome or are there too many barriers to living a happy, healthy life? I know life can be so devastating and as I age, this world ages with me in polluted time. The constant stress of survival is getting too much.
My Past Fears of Being Touched
I love to be touched and often forget how much I feared it when I was younger. My aversion to human touch, whether it be family or strangers, my body would tense up and freeze. A slow income away from the touch feeling, in hindsight, gave me chills and made my blood run cold. I never realized how much I've grown and healed from physical touch and the lack of mother's milk is a definite testament to our relationship. My mother was 46 when she had me. Her milk ducts were no longer producing milk, perhaps a lack of prolactin production due to age, the bitch was dry, okay? I theorize that this, including my continued failed relationship with my mother, repressed sexual trauma and desires, and a lack of socializing all led me to be adverse to touch; they're all connected too!
I was so averse to touch that I would sit very still in my house, afraid that I would get "dirty." My kid brain associated touch with germs. I would literally dodge hugs when I was a preteen and I was so closed off. I never realized the issue until my brain could fully understand the situation. So I did my best to fix it. After my disability, I knew I wasn't going to live forever and after many visits to various hospitals, a place I feared the most because of germs, I got over it. It literally took me becoming disabled to get over my hurdles of fear. Day after day of being admitted to a new hospital after almost 2 years, once even in a different country, I literally became desensitized to "germs."
My relationship to touch is so much better now and I have to thank the BDSM community for it. I like to be spanked, manhandled (all genders included), spat on, and my fear of being touched eventually went away. Of course, consent is still a big factor for me, but my life has been filled with both bad and good touches that I truly do not care anymore. Life is too short to not touch or to be touched.
The Last of Us: Part 1 from a Trauma Perspective
SPOILERS ahead for TLOU game and show!!!
On Sunday, March 12, 2023, The Last of Us season 1 finale aired on HBO. The episode starts off with the origin story of Ellie's entrance into a broken world. They gave Ellie's mother, Anna played by Ashley Johnson (the original voice actor for Ellie), a background sorry. However, I want to focus on this post on The Last of Us in a Trauma lens.
After the opening credits, we see a traumatized, and perhaps a dissociated Ellie. A line that really resonates with me said by Ellie after the rooftop scene with Joel, "after everything I've been through. Everything I've done. It can't be for nothing," after Joel tries to tell her they could walk away. In the previous episode, Ellie was sexually traumatized by David and we see the effects through, what I interpreted as, dissociation. This is a very common trauma response for someone who has experienced what Ellie experienced.
Then we learn that Joel's scar is from a suicide attempt. Opening up to Ellie about his daughter's death affected him and we learn that he tried to kill himself the day his daughter died. These two are trauma-bonding, but it's really the only way to connect with people because they are not given a choice. The show sets in an infected "zombie" apocalypse after 20 years of living in this brutal world. The season finale, particularly the multiple ways of interpreting Joel's answer to the tough question about Joel being honest, "okay."
Trauma is essential in this show. The trauma response was present since the first episode. Trauma, to me, is not what defines you, but what you do with it after. Joel lies, Ellie accepts the lie, whether we think she is telling the truth or not. This perfectly sets up season 2 and I'll end the spoilers here, similarly with the game, leaving you with a cliffhanger. I might be one of the few people who absolutely adored the sequel more than the original. Hot takes, but we’ll have to wait about part 2! Play or watch the game. I personally watched theRadBrad’s playthrough because he doesn’t talk during cut scenes!
It was a simple writing prompt…
PROMPT: You can write your life story as a person, as a professional, or as a sexual being. Describe your hopes, dreams, goals, wishes and vision for a future as you review your own past. Notice the wins and losses; what made you who you are today? Imagine this is what you ask of your own clients before you work begins. How does doing this exercise help you become a better coach?
Use this space to write your own life story. TW: RAPE/SA/MOLESTATION
My first memory is of one of my older brothers molesting me. I always lied, telling a bullshit story about how my father and I were looking at stars on our Filipino house’s porch that he would usually clean with a walis ting-ting. It didn't really register in my head until my first (and only [hopefully]) rape around the time of Kobe Bryant's death. I was so angry when he died and I didn't know why. Then it clicked; when I was in middle school, it was around the time his trials for rape/sexual misdemeanors came about. I went through the 5 stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and after 3 years, acceptance. The brutal part was depression because it hit me like a fucking train. I was 5150’ed twice in one year, isolated myself from my family, made horrible decisions, and all of that happened during the height of the pandemic. However, I’m not here to tell you how my rape initially happened, I knew something was wrong because I was taking a trauma response and recovery certification at the time; my body was sitting the trauma.
In 2019, I went on a trip to Yosemite with my cousins visiting from the UK; this included my molester (I will be calling him my molester because no brother molests their own sibling), his wife and two kids, my cousins, and my molester and mines' 2 older brothers, and one of them brought my precious niece. I want to stay alive because of her. I am alive because of her; I want to protect her from the evils of this world and I want her to be happily safe. Everyone, except my cousins and niblings knew what happened and they didn't want to take a side. All the adults drank alcohol, which ended up with me crying and my molester trying to console me by giving me a hug to which I angrily responded with, "don't touch me!" I’ve lost allies both on my mother’s and father’s side and I really only have the brother that I live with.
I couldn't take the pain anymore so I exposed my molester online. I wanted to protect the little girls in my family and spoke my truth on Facebook; I made an honest recollected post of that horrendous day. My molester threatened to sue me for defamation so I was forced to take the post down, but most of them don't know I have a YouTube channel and other social medias. I posted a video on Youtube and I got so much praise for speaking up and that's when I knew I wanted to be an advocate and storyteller activist for ST (sexual trauma). I even wrote an affidavit to someone from the San Francisco Unified School District because she had found my tweets of the time I was raped by a trusted partner, again, before the pandemic; he was a substitute teacher. I have no idea how she found me, but it was a good thing. When I speak about my rapist to those familiar to the comedy scene in SF, they respond negatively about him.
I really needed to write this out because it has been on my mind as of late because of this time of the year. I tried to kill myself because of all the sexual trauma, lack of family support and belief, and feeling hopeless due to not having money and/because of disability. It was my most mentally anguishing time, but I came out stronger and better. I don't want my niblings to experience what I've experienced which is why I'm in this line of work. Education, storytelling, coaching, and practicing healthy boundaries has helped me heal so much; I want to use my experiences as a way to end generational, intergenerational, and general trauma. Overall, making people see that their [in]actions have consequences and/or rewards and benefits to themselves and/or others.
——————————————————
How timely…
It has also officially been a year since the war between Russia and Ukraine.
My YouTube Presence and Thoughts on YouTube in General
I went to Vidcon twice and for those who are cool, Vidcon is a convention started by the Green Brothers. I have attended twice during peak YouTube, before the scandals, back when Chocolate Rain through collaborations and challenges. Oh boy, cringe. Back when everyone was still in the queer closet and over-the-top fans making parasocial fanfics. Most of it was bad, but oh did we rise from our gay ancestors; Eugene Lee Yang, Daniel Howell, MacDoesIt, Ingrid Nilsen, and Alayna Joy. However, I loved my content because I never did it for anyone; most of it was for my joy.
My absolute favorite parts are the writing and the improvised jokes. I literally have a two full 2TB external hard drives with all my videos, including essays, papers, and projects that I did in college. Finally enough, most of my creative projects were video-based. I once improvised an entire 10- minute presentation about some unimportant elective class while my classmates just stood in silence, jokes were of course included. BIG TIP FOR THOSE WHO GET NERVOUS DURING PRESENTATIONS: go first because most of your classmates are also nervous, less likely to pay attention to you. It's also okay to be embarrassed. Get humbled haha.
At the heart of it all, I'm a performer. I'm originally a singer because I sang before I could talk. My family hates Disney's Alice in Wonderland and The Little Mermaid because I played those 2 VHSs out. So let me perform and inform you that I am coming back to my YouTube channel because I want to get back into digital art, while maintaining my traditional art, singing, comedy and wit. This is also a chance to be seen as a sex coach and a platform for information with flavor.
New trailer video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-HNlnNJ67Xw
Death as Liberation
My dream has always been to help people. When I was a kid, I would massage my family because I had the height and strength of a 13-year-old when I was 10 and the $5 reward. My family immigrated from the Philippines in 2000 when I was 5; I couldn’t contribute financially so this was the least I could do for my parents and my closest brother. I'm not going into the intricacies of my family dynamic because I've healed from that trauma. My biggest traumas are becoming disabled in America and sexual assaults. I've beautifully recovered from my own sexual traumas, though I'm still fighting for my own rights as a disabled person; then add a business for the cherry on top
I'm currently in grad school for sex coaching and am surprising my peers and instructors with the speed of my completion with the modules. I'm paying my own tuition and have a 15-month payment plan with my savings and sex work. I was really hoping to be employed, but I did some research and most successful disabled people in America have their own business, entrepreneurship, solopreneurship, and/or have different sources of income. It's a never ending hustle.
I have been in the sex education sector for years now and I do include my sex work. Sex workers are social workers. I have had clients who are decent and have thanked me for showing them that it's ok to look, but with a respectful gaze. I've been complimented for my online sex work advocacy by my own clients, even changing their attitudes and beliefs towards ethical sex work. I feel a lot more comfortable with sex work, however, that's mostly because of the awareness of sex work.
Sex coaching is very different from sex work, mostly for safety and legality. Sex coaching is also very personal from both clientele and coach. There must be trust established. Unlike sex therapy, sex coaches can physically touch our clients (with the proper certification for some form of bodywork certification). Ideally, I would really like to incorporate my sex work and sex coaching because I have learned a lot from my years of sex work and education history. This would need an additional certification for sex surrogacy, but why can't my years of experience simply because I don't have fiscal access to more training.
If you are disabled and want to work in America, forget about it! The sheer safety hazard alone makes sex work so scary currently. Especially for queer Asians with undiagnosed brain inflammation; I happen to be a part of this demographic. My disability has been very debilitating since it affected my right hand, inabiling writing functions. I am currently practicing body regulation for stress and extreme self-care. Sex coaching is my passion and the doubt my family has for my success only fuels my grind. I jokingly respond with, "well then I die," when asked about my uncertain future because this country does not care about my life. For many disabled people, death is a form of liberation because living is simply too much to handle.
There's a Big Difference Between Radical Acceptance and Tolerating Abuse
My family has always been loud due to the following: hearing loss on my father's side, my mother being from Batangas, and having anger issues. I cried when I was in 3rd grade because my mother got frustrated and slapped me for not understanding the multiplication table. Yeesh, no wonder her and I only talk when my brother's not home.
I hear their whispers. "Oh she quit because she wants to focus on her graduate studies," my brother says to a family friend or "alam mo na naman," from my mother, roughly translating into "well, you know why again," indicating no hard work and not understanding that I'm choosing to live on my own terms. I have a romantic date next week with one of my closest friends and I asked my brother if she could sleep over. He was wondering why I was asking, and even instigated on why I only hung out with my friends outside of our home. I responded honestly and replied, "because I don't feel comfortable being myself around you. There's all different versions of me and I can't even tell which parts are actually me." Silence. We didn't speak until the next day.
I'm now doubting my radical acceptance of him because it's not fair that I am the only one willing to change. Every time I privately correct him on GSRD/LGBTQIA+ terms or pronouns, he barks at me and says, "it's just us!" Unfortunately, yes. It is just him and I and I bet he hates it. I know I hate censorship, but he doesn't have to worry about that because he's older, the man, and has money. What I hate most is the lack of emotional support, but I mean, what can I expect? My mother doesn't even believe I was sexually abused by a different older brother! Additionally, she loves bringing up my past, but whenever I bring mine up, I'm shushed to the side.
Anyways,
Happy birthday to the other person who doesn't cause drama in my family,
My father.
Why The Last of Us is So Important to Me (Spoilers ahead)
I was hyped when I first found out about The Last of Us getting a TV show and it was going to be on HBO. Home of some of my favorite series: Euphoria, True Blood, The Leftovers, Insecure, and Big Little Lies; the list goes on. In addition to that, Neil Druckmann, who led the development of The Last of Us is also directing it. He also happens to be co-president of the game developer, Naughty Dog, known for Jak and Daxter and Uncharted (yes, THAT Tom Holland movie).
My right hand doesn't function very well and it hasn't held a penis in more than 6 years, maybe more! My right hand is stiff and is limited to a few activities: holding a bag, holding the base of a bottle to open it, holding the steering wheel while I'm driving (probably the most useful), and protecting me when I fall. I can't even hold down a piece of paper when I write with my left and I legit have to use a paperweight. It's weird how my left hand picks and chooses what it does. Sometimes, it has a mind of its own, twitching and not listening to what my brain is telling me to do.
The Last of Us was the last game that I played and fully completed on my nephew's PS4... twice. Since my disability, I've found YouTubers who play video games and I like games who DON'T talk during the cut scenes. Shout-out to theRadBrad for being my go-to person! I've watched his playthrough 3 times. What I'm saying is that I really fucking love this game, okay!? Since I've watched it many many times, I know THE scene. I CRY EVERY TIME AND I STILL DID. I'm in so deep, I listened to the podcast on Spotify.
Everything is perfect in the pilot. The narcissist inside me is putting myself in the current character's point of view, Sarah. We get to see Sarah a lot more, therefore, we feel the impact so much more when we, especially Joel, lose(s) her. The video game was already so diverse, then they went with a POCs' character angles, which worked perfectly well. This game came out at such a pivotal moment in my life; the 2017 limbo of my life when I was going through the process of becoming disabled. I don't quite remember when my right hand just stopped working, but at least it can still hold stuff. I have this running joke about my mouth becoming like a second hand which begs the question: is this a blowjob or a handjob?
My Relationship with The Miss Universe Beauty Pageant
My full name is Ilah Kristel I. Mallari, Ilah Kristel is my first name. Yes, having two first names is very common in the Philippines, especially for girls. "I" is the beginning of my mother's maiden name and Mallari is my father's last name. It's really not that complicated, but for some reason people don't understand.
The Philippines has a mild obsession with the Miss Universe parents. My first name will forever be an origin debate, I am 100% in love with the story of my second name. I was born in 1994, my second name, "Kristel," came from my family's favorite contestant, Miss Belgium. Shown below is a photo of her taken from a popular Filipino website and the article was published in 2016. Yesterday marked another victory for America, but also the Philippines. Ms. Texas, R'Bonney Gabriel, a 28 year old Filipino-American who also has her own brand of clothing was crowned Miss Universe last night. I'm not here to discredit Ms. Gabriel's success, but I am bothered by the fact that she is praised for being mixed and how Filipinos love white and Filipino mixed race babies. I dove deeper and found some astonishing discoveries.
My family's interest in Miss Universe really only appears when there seems to be a potential winner for the Philippines. It used to be a much bigger event amongst Filipinos, maybe it still is, but perhaps its popularity has dwindled at the rise of social media. Body activists and even contestants themselves frown upon pageantries and the misrepresentations of what a healthy woman looks like. In addition to this, this year's Miss Universe is claimed to be rigged. As the host announces the winner, there was not much shock as seen in past pageantries. This is what you have been training for and working hard on for the majority of your life and your reaction couldn't be less graceful than me having unsatisfactory sex with a man I clearly have no interest in? Most of these women cry! They are shocked to their toned core!
Thank goodness I love myself now and that my niece is smart enough to not listen to those body messages. My nephew's body dysphoria, well, that's for another blog post.
The Absolutely True Story of My Most Excruciating PMDD Experience
(TW/CW: SUICIDAL IDEATION)
My last day of menstruation was November 18, 2022 and it was only three days of light bleeding. I was not concerned since I had a new IUD inserted May 2022 and lack of menses isn't a worry for me. Considering this is my second IUD (the Mirena IUD), it is common and normal to have the absence of menstruation. In the last couple of months, I have experienced heightened depression and anxiety, lack of motivation, and in an overall funk!
I knew something was wrong when I suddenly had an intrusive and nonchalant thought, "what if I don't take up from this nap... I do have the pills for them." My inner self was shocked, but I was so mentally exhausted that I fell asleep immediately. When I woke up, I didn't want to get up so I slept again. Mind you, I went to bed around 11pm the night before and woke up around 6am because I like getting things done before noon so I can relax and simply take on less work after 1pm to 2pm. I was awakened by my brother, telling me it's time for dinner. This was the day before he left for Palm Springs on the 5th.
I started day 1 of my cycle this past Sunday.
My PMDD had never been like this in my 3 years of self-diagnosis. I have never missed a month without getting my period either. My PMDD is so debilitating that I lay in bed until my pelvic area isn't feeling tender anymore. I take naps because I don't want to be awake to feel the pain. As soon as I start feeling good about my life and myself, the PMDD cycle comes right back. I'm usually clueless too, even though it's a monthly process; blaming it on exterior factors like stressful situations which only adds fire to the body inflammation. No wonder the holidays weren't that bad in 2022!