There seems to be a family spigot. I can't tell who's cranked the handle, but the tears are flowing.
M--'s are her business. If you're friends she can tell you about them.
Mine are the culminating spillage from a lifetime of assumed unworthiness. Specifically, unworthiness of the suffering of animals subjected to pharmecutical testing for Bipolar medication.
Don't give me Genesis. It will come back to bite you. This is about causing others longstanding pain. Obviously I count sentient beings as "others."
I sat on the back row in Ethics today an bit my lip until I thought I might draw blood, and still the tears came. I got it under control only to find myself here, in the library, working on final projects, crying. I got it under control. I called my mom and went out into the courtyard between the library and the Liberal Arts building and, wow, floodgates. I got it under control. I came back in to the library to work on this final project, and sure enough...
If Mr. PNU had begun the semester with Animal Ethics, I wouldn't have made it to the ER when I admitted myself in January. I'm not in that sort of place now, but dear Lord! This is a painful place to be.
While I am passively carnivorous, I do not abdicate animal cruelty. I am sickened by the torturous methods I know that go into proving the efficacy and safety of the medications I take to be a functional, rational human being. A human being steady enough to realize that I live a life indebted not just to a sacrificial God as my Savior, but also to sacrificial animals.
I have blood on my hands.