Nausea Inducing News - Issue 1

Whilst today offers a wealth of possible winners for the NIN award (the cost of the Pope's visit to the UK, the appalling way that some humans treat animals, or the ongoing erasure of rights, decency and diversity in France), I'm going to start with something close to my heart: the disgusting way that people with histories of mental health problems are treated in this country.

This story about police refusing to believe that a woman had been seriously sexually assaulted in her own home twice, because of her history of mental health problems, makes me feel physically sick as well as making my blood boil. I wish I could say that I cannot believe that it took her family and GP to intervene before the investigation was carried out properly, but unfortunately I can believe it. I'm actually more surprised that the GP actually weighed in on her side; I don't think ours would do the same.

I'm also pleased that this woman has family who will go into battle for her; so many people with complex mental health histories either do not have families who would be prepared to fight for them, or their families do not have the resources or social capital to take this kind of action. And it often is a fight; if you love a person with history of mental health problems, you become discountable by association. That this woman's family has been able to get notices served to 11 officers in relation to their conduct in this case is impressive. I wish that were not something to be impressed about.

I cannot begin to imagine how it must have felt for this woman to be assaulted in such a manner and have the sense of safety in her own home destroyed. To then be told by police that you must be lying because, well, you're mad, just compounds the damage. Can you imagine being dismissed about something so serious, despite the physical evidence that you can provide? Can you imagine having something in your history or from a completely irrelevant part of your life used to prove you can never be believed? Can you imagine what that would do to your sense of your own perception of the world? Can you imagine how worthless that could make you feel? Don't you think that that might make any mental health problems so much worse?

I hope whoever she is and wherever she is, the eventual conviction of her attacker and this IPCC ruling might have gone some way to helping her heal. And I wish her peace and safety.

And, Essex Police, you are the winners of today's Nausea Inducing News Award. The word despicable does not begin to cover what you've done.

Conference week, day 3

Wow, it's been an amazing couple of days. Let me see...

The rest of the conference on Monday in Brighton was fab. There were some really interesting papers, some lovely new people met and hopefully the chance to create some interesting new opportunities. I got the chance to promote the feminist cultural activism carnival and met a few people who I've followed online. I left the university of Sussex campus feeling so energised and happy. The organisers must be commended for putting together a fantastic event. All in all a great day.

Which was good, because the next day was PAINFUL. I elected to travel to San diego the day before presenting at the current conference because of monday's event. So yesterday started at 4:20 in order to get my 8:30 flight to Toronto. Yep, that's right, I flew to San Diego via Toronto. I then should have had another connection in Chicago before finally reaching San Diego. Not what happened. The first flight was 40 mins late leaving heathrow and so despite running through Toronto airport, there was no way in hell I was ever going to make that connection, since I had to collect my bag, then go through US border preclearance then recheck my bag, and then head for the gate. And apparently I am a bit risky according to the US customs people. I have no idea why, but the pissiest guard ever seemed particularly worried about the fact that I was carrying 4 - count 'em, 4 - books. They got more scrutiny than anything else in my bag. Not my external hard-drive which could have been a fake, or my many meds, no, the books were apparently the most worrisome thing I could be carrying. By this point I was already so tired I wanted to cry. And then the bitch had the audacity to bend the cornerbof one of my books as she shoved it back into my bag. I have killed people for less.

So 25 hours after I started my journey, I got to my hotel room, which is seriously plush. Pictures will follow when I get home to a better Internet connection. The bed was bliss - until the train went past at 2am and the train driver thought it would be cute to toot his horn 10 fricking times. Seriously, W T F!!

Anyway, I need to wrap this up now, so I'll just say for now that I gave my paper this morning and it went well. To time, well received, and plenty of great questions. Met the lovely Ashley,my fellow panellist along w Ann, my academic supervisor. Had some fab conversations about subjectivity and the reality of cultural activism via blog. Think I can congratulate myself on a job well-done.

Right, got to go now to call my honey before she goes to bed. Hope you all having a good day, folks.

Conference week - day 1, post 1

This week is the week of conferences. Today, it's Brighton for the Digital Methods, Cultural Politics and Feminist Approaches conference. Then tomorrow I fly out to San Diego to present on Wednesday morning at the contemporary women's writing network annual conference. In the process I will be travelling internationally on my own for the first time, which as a nervous flyer is more than a bit daunting. On the other hand, I will be presenting my first conference paper & hopefully expanding my network of academic contacts for my nascent career. Not too much pressure for the week then!

So one hour in to the first day of the week of conferences and I already have so many new things to think about. Adi Kuntsman just gave the first keynote of the day on 'Politics of/in digital cultures: lessons from feminist and queer theory'. It was a really rich, interesting, complex talk, which I am going to get so much out of reflecting on.

Thus far, it's a really good start to the week.

My Research

This is a post I have been putting off writing for far too long. But here goes....

I am currently just over 18 months in to my PhD research, for which I am considering feminist and womanist blogging, specifically what kind of feminist and womanist theory is being written about and developed in these blogs. I use the word theory, but I don't necessarily mean it in a purely academic sense; rather I mean theory at all levels, from the theories that we use to make sense of our every day lives to the grand theories of the academy. Georgia Gaden has suggested that the feminist blogosphere is the first place to direct people wanting to find out more about feminism, so I want to know what kinds of feminism and womanism are there out there? What is sayable and what absolutely not? And how does the presence of readers and commenters with unprecedented access to the blogger affect the way in which she chooses to write or what she chooses to write about? And, thus, how does the presence of the immediately interactive audience impact on the expressions of feminism and womanism that are available to an interested party?

That, in a rather long paragraph is my research. Needless to say it feels more complex and wooly at the moment than those few sentences would seem to betray, but I can see how my thinking is moving forward in this area. So why the anxiety about posting this? Well partly, it's protectiveness and insecurity about my academic work. If I blog about my ideas, maybe someone else will pick them up and publish before I am ready to (because obviously they are that good!). On the other hand, perhaps someone will leave a comment that trashes my work completely, and I am not sure if I could deal with that. And then I find the work of people like Ashley at Small Strokes and see both how great it is and how closely related it is to my work, and my anxiety does not get any smaller.

However, I have had enough of being that fearful, so here it is world: My Research.

Sometimes other people say it better

I think this warrants a 'Hell yeah!'

I will always expect more. It's the only way I know how to be.

H/T to the wonderful Shakesville

Working on it

As I've already mentioned, life got a bit complicated there for a while. Which is tricky enough generally, but since I am half way through my PhD, the timing was particularly sucky. Add in my ongoing issues with self-doubt and procrastination and the mix is not very positive.

But I'm working on it.

In so many ways.

So close and yet so far

Don't you jsut hate it when people that you otherwise have a lot of hope for get something so right and yet so very wrong at the same time?

My case in point for today is Nick Clegg and one particular statement from his otherwise respectable performance in last night's debate. To wit, his accusation that David Cameron is working with 'nutters, anti-Semites, people who deny climate change exists, homophobes' in Europe. It made my heart glad to hear Cameron called out over his alliances with homophobic bigots (amongst the many other questionable, if not outright disgusting alliances), but did Clegg really have to use the word 'nutter' like that? Could he not have found another word rather than thoughtlessly (hopefully) using words that people with mental health problems are punished with every day? Did he intend to conflate people with mental health problems with these unpleasant groups?

According to Beatrice Bray writing in the Guardian's Comment is Free, 'All three [party leaders] have signed a compact, drafted by the all-party parliamentary mental health group on the use of language', specifically about the thoughtless, inaccurate and pejorative use of language related to mental health.

Perhaps Nick Clegg should go back and review his copy.

Closer to Fine

You know how there are times in life when you can see just how precariously everything is balanced in your life and just how fragile it all is really?

Well, that's where I have been over the last couple of months. And it has been hard. Some of it I want to blog about in more detail, but need to check it out with others first, but for now I want to capture the feeling of resurgence and hope that I am currently filled with. Whilst nothing is fixed or sorted, I am nonetheless 'Closer to Fine' and that feels like a pretty damn good place to be.

There have been some tough times in the past, the kind that seems to generate lots of questions about just how I am managing to cope (and I have no doubt there will be many, many more such times in the future). In response, I keep coming back to the Indigo Girls track of the title and particularly the lines 'The best thing you ever done for me/ was to help me take my life less seriously./ It's only life after all'. Getting to that point in life where the worst has happened and you have survived anyway can be so incredibly freeing.

And that is definitely something to be revelled in.

So I want to share the joy of one of my favourite songs by one of my very favourite bands and because this is my blog and I can, I give you the Indigo Girls and 'Closer to Fine':

Warm fuzzies

So I haven't been keeping my blog up to date - what are you going to do about it?

But in the spirit of picking this thing up, dusting it down and holding it up to the cold light of day, I start with a small, micro-mini-postette. Baby steps and all that.

Tha thought for today is the warm fuzzies that follows an old friend you thought you had lost touch with forever getting in touch out of the blue.

That is all. Going off to continue being fuzzy. And warm.