Words Do Not Suffice in Numbness

SCOTUS overturned Roe v. Wade today, and I feel numb.

Too many emotions have found their way into my system: rage, sadness, fear, mortification, disbelief in the expected, guilt, anxiety, and all have warped themselves into a nauseated numbness. I’m certain I’m not alone in that.

I’ve yet to process this information fully. This is an extremely raw reaction. I’m neither conceited enough nor blind enough to pretend that my individual reaction to this is any more important than another’s, that this digital diary entry is anything entirely significant. But I need help to process in the effort to escape numbness into rage and fight this archaic (not even: more like dystopian) movement, and if I can provide some information to that end, or help another process their own emotions as I do mine, then why not.

[IF YOU FEEL READING THIS HISTORY WILL EXACERBATE YOUR MENTAL STATE RIGHT NOW, SKIP THIS; IF YOU DON’T KNOW IT, READ ON]

In short basics: this nation has launched an embarrassing regression, one that holds serious consequences. Prior to the late 19th century, abortions and reproductive healthcare had been practiced by female-identifying healers for centuries, and were supported by religious institutions across the world. They were not political until around the 1870s, when a whole myriad of politicized issues (male doctors being threatened by female doulas and midwives, churches craving larger populations, carryover of forced pregnancy for enslaved humans) led to the condemning of abortion, the popularization of “life at cellular level,” and the banning of any form of contraception or birth control. Abortion was perfectly acceptable until the patriarchy needed more people to work, to worship, to populate. That sounds harsh, but, by Goddess(es), the world is. I’m learning moreso every day the pain that accompanies beauty.

So, what happens when abortion is made illegal and access to reproductive healthcare is limited? The inherent value of women and womb bearers is denied. Human beings edge closer to being deemed chattel, useful for their ability to carry a child; this disproportionately affects—and always has—women of color and poor women, people who were historically experimented upon in early gynecological settings and forced to carry to term, often children of rape or incest. This ruling, ceasing federal protections that already scarcely existed in some places, acts as a jumping-off point into the ugly past.

Again, Roe v. Wade did not start abortions. They were always there. They existed for centuries. Lack of proper care from the patriarchy just made them unsafe.

And what other risks do we run here? Criminalizing miscarriages, a thing that has already happened in other nations. Assigning value only to those who can carry a child. An increase in long-term abusive relationships. An increase in poor parenting and childhood trauma. An increase in cyclical, systemic, generational poverty, aided by cyclical, system, generational racism and sexism.

[RESUME HERE, IF MENTALITY SKIP]

If you think this is a win, you’re wrong. I offer no apology for that statement; I’m tired of trying to prove our humanity to you.

I’ll say it again: if you think this is a win, you’re wrong.

Only a few months after Women’s History Month, in the midst of Pride, this feels like the harshest of backhands, the kind that stings your eyes, stops your synapses, makes it difficult to see. Everything rushes. There are too many thoughts, too many feelings, and it’s difficult to speak, to think, to breathe. Numbness settles. Until you feel the rage and the fight.

I know so many who have already been affected by the Roe v. Wade ruling: they’ve either benefited from its protections, or suffered from conservative states manipulating it. I, myself, come from a state that is so red it bleeds some days, a state that tends to be kind at face value and legislate behind one’s back; I have friends and family who live there still, and I worry for them, for when the legislation sections of our Midwestern unicameral have been salivating over for years. And Nebraska isn’t even a trigger state. Those will be worse with more immediacy.

I am angry. I am saddened. I wish so badly to protect.

I worry for the womb bearers of this nation. I worry for women of color. I worry for poor women. I worry for high schoolers in abstinence-only districts. I worry for rural women. I worry for my future children (dear god, it better be better by then). I worry for states of crimson. I worry for a cobalt influx. I worry for people who menstruate. I worry for women, whatever that word may mean to you.

And I feel guilty. Going into my current survival job, serving coffee and cocktails, feels pointless on days like these. I want to do more. I’ve donated today (see the bottom of this blog post for their websites), I’ve made statements, I’ve increased viewings on advocacy. But it is not nearly enough. I want to create art that slams politicians and malignant thinkers. I want to shout through a megaphone. I want to meet the gazes of lawmakers and pop a brow. I want to hug all the womb bearers in America. I want to volunteer at a Planned Parenthood. I want to march in the streets. I want to read aloud an intersectional history book (read: the truth) from the rooftops, yelling truth to the fiction. I want to protect so many, and fight for so many. And it makes me feel helpless.

So I feel numb.

I’m not alone in that.

So let’s feel. Let’s grieve. Let’s cry. Let’s scream. Let’s punch a pillow. Let’s listen to sad music on repeat, then Boss Ass Bitch music on the same. Let’s be numb for a time, so we can fight.

I’m embarrassed for my country.

This fight isn’t over.

Even when we feel helpless and angry.

It’s not over.

And I’m done apologizing. Done.

HELP:

Planned Parenthood

National Network of Abortion Funds

United State of Women

READ (A Small Selection):

Without Apology by Jenny Brown

Crow After Roe: How "Separate But Equal" Has Become the New Standard In Women's Health And How We Can Change That by Pieklo and Marty