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I Can’t Drink You Away….

This blog MIGHT be all over the place (kinda like my emotions right now) but I promise there is a central theme.

*******Avengers: Infinity War Spoilers********

We all said, nothing can ever be better than Black Panther. I THINK we were wrong. This movie is just….. So first off, FUCK THANOS. His entire existence just ruined my life. For a myriad of reasons. The last 20 mins of that movie are 1000000000 times worse than the Red Wedding episode of GOT.

But what has me awake at 4:30am like I don’t have shit to do in 3 hours, is the relationship between Thanos & Gamora.

He stole her, after he destroyed half of her planet’s inhabitants. He killed her mother, and told her it had to happen that way. He then trained her to be a deadly assassin who traveled the world killing for him. Because he’s an ASSHOLE.

Even though Gamora swore she hated him, when she *thought* she had actually killed him it tore her apart. Like broke her all the way down. Because even after all the abuse, and hate, and self-loathing, that was her FATHER. Every girl just wants a Daddy.

My life is in chaos right now. I reached out to my father, who has more than enough money to help me deal with this situation. It’s an unexpected life altering event, right as I took 2 months (unpaid) FMLA off to help my mom.

I knew he was going to say no. I knew it in my soul. I told my mom he was going to say no. He did. I wasn’t even shocked. I had already been working on another solution to the problem. He has never helped me out in a crisis. He has actually caused the last 2. And yet…..I asked. At 36, I still held an impossibly small piece of hope he would come through for me.

Because that’s what parents are supposed to fucking do – Help their children in times of need. That’s what our relationship was until I was around 12. The spoiled girl who was pampered and NEVER told no until she started gaining weight……she didn’t understand why the relationship just changed. It went from fun to weight control and walking 4 miles a day in the Arizona heat. I didn’t handle the transition well, because I wasn’t prepared for it.

My Hero. That’s who and what I used to think my father was. You couldn’t tell me shit bad about him. And due to his “strict religious and moral beliefs,” he would of course never lie to me or hurt me. Because that’s what the Bible says. But not the Good Reverend. That nigga worked 50 years to push his kids out the house at 18, and tell them to fend for themselves. Because that’s HIS moral obligation. Now, where this supposed code came from, I don’t know.

It took me way too long to understand this code of ethics even existed. [Partially due to my mother’s parenting style, because she’s the best mom ever] I was used to having a need, telling my primary parent at the moment, and getting what I needed. Some people called it spoiled…not sure why. Some part of me still felt, even after all the times he had disappointed me – if I can just explain why it’s so urgent that I need his help, he won’t say no then. I keep banging my head up against this emotional wall.

Always leaving a door open, or a window slightly cracked hoping he will be different this time. Because I never felt more loved and appreciated than when I used to go visit my father in Tucson and Pittsburgh. I still crave that….feeling. I write about wanting that all the time. Thanks to therapy, I know the root of that. But this blog isn’t REALLY about my daddy issues.

I know, insanity. The kid inside of me always feels so less than when dealing with him, because I’m still trying to get him to:

  • Acknowledge that parenthood doesn’t end when your children reach 18.
  • HELP ME GOT DAMMIT

Back briefly to Avengers.

In order for Thanos to reach one of his final goals, he LITERALLY threw Gamora over a cliff, and killed her. I started crying right then. Because GOTDAMN! Gamora’s face as she was falling, throwing out her hands and hoping by some miracle he would save her in the last minutes…….

It was like seeing myself on screen. (This conclusion is why I’m still awake right now) Every time I call my father specifically for his help, I’m hanging off the cliff holding on for dear life. He reaches down, and lifts each finger off, while telling me something about budgeting for unexpected events.

That’s how I see my dad. I paid the mortgage on a house that was in his name for 4 years, for him to tell me if I didn’t let my DEADBEAT ASS SISTER move in (and pay no rent or contribute to the household….did I mention shes is 22 years older than me) he would sell the house, and I would be homeless. This was of course about a WEEK after I had a Grand Mal Seizure at the gym and dislocated my shoulder. And my mom was already staying there to help me recover FROM A FUCKING SEIZURE.

Did Thanos love Gamora, yes? But he – and by extension his agenda – was still more important to himself than his child. I just don’t understand how that is. I try really hard to look at everything from both sides. But my dad….

Seriously tho, Fuck that Nigga Thanos.

I just…. I can’t wait for the day when I can not have “daddy issues” flare ups. This shit is worse than herpes. I might be done tho…because exhausted. Also, I might have already said too much. I had to edit like 4 times before I could post this. Because feelings.

Fuck Thanos So Much

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Dangerously In Love….. a Forever #Mood

Soundtrack to this Blog:

It seemingly takes very little for me to fall for someone.

The Convict: His lightskinnedness (It was the 90’s! JUDGE👏🏾ME👏🏾NOT👏🏾

TBTLNY: His voice/accent

MM: Our friendship

TOTGA: His hood ass mentality

Bono: Conversation

The Unicorn: Conversation/His accent.

I share this NOT to call people out, but to say it’s never something exceptionally deep at first. It’s usually simple conversation or likemindedness. (Is that a word?) But after I sat on my best friends couch stressed as all the hells this weekend, I realized I’ve never had an issue falling for people. I have an issue letting them go.

If I’ve looked at you as a potential mate, if ive seen that vision in my mind’s eye, I will hold on for much longer than I probably should. To my own detriment, in most instances.

The Convict was my first real crush. The first time my lady parts reacted to a dude. I was 12, he was 17, and I was IN LOVE. Fast forward to 2010, I sho nuff satisfied THAT curiosity. Even though I knew it wasn’t a good look for me.

I was in love with TBTLNY for like 10 years. We ‘met’ June of 2000 and I was attached until August of 2010, when he acted a complete ass and I gave up. Only for me to almost IMMEDIATELY fall for MM (formerly known as HotNeighborGuy).

MM was 2010…he broke my heart. Like DEVASTATED me, and I didn’t know if I was ever going to be okay. But when he showed back up 6 months later….I just took my happy ass right on back. Only for it to fall apart 6 months later. To the point that I left Tucson. And yet……I’m 36.87% sure if he called me today, I’d answer. And smile. (Becuz I’m an idiot.)

TOTGA were college…….and yet. If ever they would like to roll on back in my life…I’d probably let them. (Yes, there are 2 of them)

This brings me to my point. I’m FIERCELY loyal, even to people who’ve hurt me on multiple occasions. For most of my life, I’ve just accepted that. That’s who I am, I’m always there. Part of it has been attributable to my zodiac sign…the other I’ve just assumed was Daddy Issues. I’ve just…….lived with this character flaw.

Because that’s what it is, a flaw. I can cut off a female in a heartbeat if she does anything that violates my personal code of ethics. I’ve cut off family members, CLOSE family members when I felt they’ve violated my trust. I stopped talking to my mom for like a month when I started college, just because we got on each others nerves on the drive up.

But I always seem to leave a window open and a light in that window for the men in my life that mattered. There is always a part of me who knows I’m going to let them back in, if they want to. This knowledge makes me feel weak. Because I’m a strong independent black woman, so I shouldn’t have these issues at all. But I do…and some of those listed above have been let back in.

TBTLNY and I….he’s still around. We figured everything out, and he’s still one of my best friends. I’ve known him half my life. We’ve matured together, laughed together, cried together, and everything in between. But that wasn’t because I stayed….its because we both wanted to do the work to fix everything.

MM changed my life, and I miss the intimacy of our relationship. I think I was so open and free with him because I KNEW we weren’t going to end up together. I risked my heart, 3 times, because I wanted to experience him. I don’t regret it, even though most of my friends would probably say I should.

Bono is so much of everything! Straightforward, no guess work, just fun. Weekly dining experiences and amazing conversation. No want/need to label anything or answer to each other for what we do outside of the time we spend together. It’s basically the best relationship ever…..that’s NOT a relationship!

Both TOTGA……yup they are still around, yay #Friendship.

Usually I try to give people advice about how I’ve coped and the steps I had to take to get there. I can’t give that advice today. Cuz ain’t shit changed. I’m still making dumb ass decisions about dudes. Because when I love, I Love HARD.

Because Stubborn & Aquarian Daddy Issues.

2 Day Free Write: I miss the Old Kanye

After I cried for an hour at work, I started making a plan. . . .

This is a Free Write, I’m just jotting down thoughts, because the Woman I realized is my mentor, told me to.  And sometimes I obey commands . . . but only sometimes.

  1. My best friend lost her mom at the end of last year.  She had to see her mother become this thing she wasn’t ready for.  She had to see her mother in pain and hurting, because cancer was ravaging her body.  At about the same time, my mother was going through Chemo for Cancer.  And I was in Arizona.  2096 miles away from her.  I have the greatest Best Friends, and my OTHER Best Friend stepped up and kept my mom together.  She drove her to appointments, helped run errands, basically everything.  I don’t know what I would be, without her.  I’m so grateful for what she’s done for my mother.  But it’s getting to me today.  Being away from her, is getting to me.  I’ve been in Arizona for 9 years, and this is the 2nd time I’m seriously considering leaving.  Because THAT’S MY MOTHER. And when I was sick, she dropped everything and came here for me.  I should have done the same for her.  I know all the practical reasons why I didn’t, but I should have.  I think, I feel guilty that I didn’t come home.  I know most of my family judges me because of it.  I had already assumed it, but it was confirmed over the holidays.  I just . . . hate having to acknowledge that my mother is going to die.  I can’t even IMAGINE my life without her in it.  I’ve been her life, since I was born.  I have so many hopes and dreams for my mother.  I want her to live a carefree life, at least 5 years.  So i can see my mother without the struggle.  Cuz it’s been a struggle much more often than it’s not.  My mother DESERVES better life.  I want to give that to her.  Because i couldn’t thank her enough for everything she’s done for me.  IF i wrote it a million times a day, it wouldn’t be enough. I’m almost at the point where I want to beg God, Please Please Please let me have this option.  And that’s selfish.  I understand that.  Everything has a reason, everything happens for a reason.  But Please Please Please God, help me help my mom to live her best life.  Please.
  2. I think I’ve met the person who is going to be my male companion for the rest of my life. Or rather, one of them.  That’s weird.  But he’s . . . . stable. That’s all I’m gonna say about that.  Because . . . . NO.
  3. Drugs are amazing.  LEGAL Drugs are amazing.  They make life easier to handle.  Everything in moderation tho.  I’m low-key worried about my . . . dependence on sleep helpers.  Like, am I going to live the rest of my life unable to sleep without some type of medicinal help?
  4. BIG K.R.I.T. is Life.  If you don’t know . . . now you do.
  5. Have this innate fear of talking about my personal life on this blog and/or social media now.  I feel like there were, in the past, people I thought were friends who saw me happy and wished unhappiness on me.  I know this may slightly appear to be irrational, but it is what the FUCK it is.  I’ve felt like there was someone in my life, who pretended to be my friend, but hated me.  I think they had access to my personal life, and details about it, then very specifically plotted against me.  And because I was just walking around clueless, I didn’t protect myself like I should have.  I didn’t know I needed to pray about people trying to cause me harm.
  6. I miss #TheHim. I miss how he felt, and smelled, and looked at me.  I know I shouldn’t, and my pride won’t let me contact him.  But I miss him sofa king much lately.
  7. I’ve self diagnosed myself as being Bi-Polar with symptoms of Hypomania. This is because of an article I read on Facebook. I’m probably right about this.  Google it, and see if it doesn’t describe me almost perfectly.
  8. I just saw the FINEST black man at the Club House Gym.  Guess who’s going to start working out here. New stalkee’s always bring me joy.
  9. I’m not a stalker . . . . anymore.  I miss that side of me.
  10. IRRRRRRRRRRRNADIMM. INAOTNE. IAEAVFT, ATHTTAFMBASPHHEAUX . . . . I’ll never forgive that bitch.
  11. I miss college, or rather the music of college.  If I had known that I would regret not making up diss trolls to every song that plays these days, I would have probably been in better shape back then.
  12. People keep calling me skinny.  It’s annoying. (This is in response to my recent weight loss.  I’m smaller, but I ain’t nowhere NEAR skinny and never will be.)
  13. This took me 2 days to write, cuz I got distracted by a guy at Starbucks.  I mean, he was there to see me . . . so there is that.
  14. Edibles are AMAZING.  Anyone who tells you different is a Lying Ass Liar.
  15. Thanx for reading!

 

No More Mediocre 

I’m tired of mediocre people. I’m tired of mediocre people in power. I’m tired of mediocre people with power and privilege. I’m tired of mediocre people with power and privilege having any sort of say in the everyday workings of my life. 
I’ve spent most of my adulthood, being forced to deal with mediocre people in positions of power. There was a time when I didn’t really care. But it seems that since around January 20th, 2009…this shit has really come to the forefront. My contemporaries elected the first black President, and folks lost their gotdamn minds. 

The people who voted for the Only President I will ever claim, all of a sudden felt all their years of benefiting from their privilege no longer mattered. They felt they should be rewarded for their charity, and race should no longer be a part of any dialogue. 
You shouldn’t be rewarded. No one is going to clap for you. No one cares about your political act of charity. The movie Get Out just solidified some things I’ve been thinking out for the past year. I’m tired of mediocre people in positions of power (both minute and great) demanding respect they haven’t earned. 

I don’t have to respect, like, or care about you (or your feelings) just because you are a liberal (white) woman. I have the right to deny you that respect. Because, my people are free. I am notafraid of you, and in truth never have been. Because you didn’t earn your power, it was handed to you. 
The anger that comes, from knowing I’m better than people and yet I’m not afforded the same access and privilege they are. Some of this I can’t control….but there is a reason I have a therapist. Cuz sometimes that anger can be overwhelming. The difference between them and me…my knowing I’m better than you doesn’t make me address you differently. 

I don’t want your power. I don’t even want your privilege (I mean the good credit yes, but other than that….) I’m good.  
Being black is beautiful. It’s a blessing. At 35 I can say that and understand that phrase. There is nothing better in this world than an intelligent black American woman. Because we have carried the burdens of this country since it’s inception. 

The difference between “Us and Them”, we don’t want your power or your privleges. We just want to be able to create our own, without you trying to take it and make it yours. 

I don’t want your job. I know I can do your job better than you can. So do you, and that’s why you hate me.  I’m starting to believe that it’s some times in the very nature of mediocre people, to ruin any semblance of greatness. LET ME BE GREAT! My greatness doesn’t block your shine…its not meant to. 

I’m great at everything. This country created me to be a jack of all trades. I have to master everything, because survival is key. That’s why I can adapt to everything, because genetically I’m here because my ancestors did the same thing. The strong and resilient ones were the ones that lived. They killed the rest of them. 


I’m so tired of having to dim my light to make mediocre people feel comfortable. I’m so tired of code switching to keep my attitude in check. I’m so fucking tired of being told to stay in my place, because some sensitive ass mediocre bitch is sensitive and feels challenged. 
Wanna know why everyone likes me, cuz I’m honest. I know exactly who and what I am. When I say to them, “We dont judge,” its not empty words. I actually mean that shit. People gravitate towards truth, and those who try to destory it will never win. 

Call this a manifesto of sorts, if you will. My light is finna blind (but not block) these mediocre ass people. 

I am Amazing. I am Beautiful, I am a Genius, and I am indeed Better Than You. This is my truth. I’m living in it. 

Sorry, Not Sorry.

These are My Confessions Part 3: Open Windows

I chose my Therapist. Purposefully. He had worked with a former client of mine, and he struck me during our interactions as a smart man. Who understood the dichotomy of being black in Tucson, and how it would affect a child in the foster care system. 

So when I made the decision to seek out some profeasional help, I called him first. I crossed my fingers, and hoped he was accepting new patients. I know it was God that opened up that spot, cuz the day before I called him he had closed out a case. 

Today, was the first time I laughed and smiled during a session. Last week was 30 minutes of tears, because the world is so scary. But today, I laughed so loud and long. Because I’m figuring shit out, finally. My emotions are no longer taking over my rational mind. Which is beautiful. 

I laughed because he is so quick to call me on my shit. Sometimes he can just do it with a look. He doesn’t allow me to be ashamed of anything, he makes me address shit. I’ve been living in survival mode for so long, I’d forgotten how good mental clarity felt. 

Today, I smiled and laughed and talked about my feelings without fear. I caught myself speaking some truth I wasn’t expecting. I’m changing the way I interact with people. I’m letting people in, and it doesn’t terrify me….as much. It’s progress. 

Therapy is frequently my favorite part of the week. For an hour, it’s all about me unpacking my life. It’s dedicated time each week to do the work. Part of me still thinks it’s hella selfish. That I could be spending that money on something else. But that’s a VERY small part of me. Because I’m finally starting to see the results of the work. 

Confession #3: I leave windows open for those people I’m hoping will come back into my life. 

I don’t usually announce I’m leaving the window open, but it’s there. Cuz I’m quick to block people I no longer want to have access to my life. Be it via Social Media, or by blocking their phone number and/or email addresses. When I’m done, I’m done. 

My laughter in today’s session came from the realization that I blocked my family on social media….but I didn’t block the Unicorn. Cuz I’m hoping he comes back. I’m not done with that yet. I’m not done with him yet.  Do I want to just tell him off, or am I hoping there is another chance somewhere in there? I don’t know. I know, up until he started liking my pics on Instagram recently, he wasn’t on my radar. But I hadn’t denied him access, I just took away MY access to him. 

Truth be told, he hurt my feelings. Deeply. Until I get to say that to his face, I’m going to always feel a way. And that’s okay. Maybe next week, I’ll unpack that a little bit more. But I’m still smiling, cuz everything for a reason and in its own time.  

White Picket Dreams or TAMC Part 2a

I’m sitting here looking at this old canvas
And the picture looks so different from you
Yes it does, yes it does
Maybe it’s time to go back to the drawing board
Cause it’s likely that the man I drew is fictional

Here’s the thing . . . I haven’t listened to this album in a while.  I can’t tell you why, I just haven’t.  But thanks to my Spotify Discover Weekly, this song popped up, and Solange changed my life again.  Cuz I’ve been painting over the same canvas for years.  That image of the perfect family, the perfect life, the perfect relationship.  I continue to try to make people (men and women) I meet fit on one of the canvases I created in college, that was supposed to represent what my life should be.  Even while knowing the canvas is bullshit.  Because it is.

For five long years
I thought you were my man
But I found out
I’m just a link in your chain

It took me 10 years to get over my first love (TBTLINY). Through mostly no fault of his own, I was just holding on to the hope that we could make it work.  Because the connection was so deep, and the love was so strong. It just HAD to work. But in real life, he was just meant to be my friend (I think). {I might still be holding out hope that he will come to his senses, so sue me.  You don’t know my life.} But he’s been the prototype, for everyone that has come afterward.  They have to make me feel like I did when I first heard his voice, I have to want to be with them like I wanted to be with TBTLINY. The connection had to be that strong. Repainting on the same canvas.

If I could… could forget him, I would… please believe me
And I know that I should throw the towel in
But baby it’s not… not that easy
You treat me so much better than him, And if I was sane there’d be no competition

But… but I’m in love with someone else (ooh)
And I’m so sorry hey hey
I’m in love with another man
And I know it ain’t right

Instead of trying to heal, you tried to move on.  Even though you weren’t ready.  You might have even found a good guy/girl.  But you were still staring at that old canvas.  Longing for the life you had created in your head and your heart.  It’s so hard to let go of the image, once it’s been solidified in your mind.  That painting is stuck to the walls, and it’s not coming down until it wants to.

I used to cry myself to sleep at night
But that was all before he came
I thought love had to hurt to turn out right
But now he’s here
It’s not the same, it’s not the same

So then you meet this new person, and they can do all the things.  They make you smile all day, and you feel all the feelings, and they fit the mold.  Finally, you can take that portrait off the wall, and start making a new one.  But instead of starting over, you use the outline of the last painting to create this one.At first, it works perfectly.  Slowly but surely, it’s the little things that don’t quite fit.  The painting starts to go outside the lines. They don’t quite seem so perfect, you start to see the flaws, the colors start changing, lines get blurred.  Once again, the picture in your head was wrong.

Some of you know what it feels like
Caught up just in his life
Don’t wanna try again, thinking what’s the difference?
Why am I not interested?
Cause when you’ve been broken, you feel like no one can fix it

I’ve decided to stop painting.  I just . . . Quit. And I’m okay with that. Clearly, me trying to control every bit of this isn’t working. So I’m done now.  I just needed to say that.  Cuz yeah.  That’s the conclusion I reached yesterday. Just stop trying, cuz Adulting is hard enough without trying to be a master painter.

My need to control every little part of my life is driving me crazy.  I can say that now, probably because when this blog is published, not that many people will read it.  I wrote this a few months ago, but then I didn’t publish it.  At the time, it was because I couldn’t get the Spotify links to work right . . . But you know, everything in time.  So I’ll post it now, and let this be another part of Confession #2.

 

 

 

These are my Confessions Part 2

I think, I’ve only been in love 3 times. I’m not talking about bullshit crushes or infatuation. But genuine love, the kind that makes for a beautiful relationship if nurtured correctly. 

#1 is and will always be my first love/soul mate. We literally grew up together. We argue, and fall out, and Hate each other frequently. But he has a piece of me forever. 

#2 is The One That Got Away. We speak very infrequently, maybe once or twice a year. It was easy to forget WHY I fell for him in the first place. But that love is still there. Just under the surface every time we talk.

#3 broke my heart, and to cope, I stopped feeling things. Most emotions are non-existent for me, and have been for the last 4 years. It wasn’t a conscious decision on my part, but I’ve noticed it and commented on it a few times in the past. 

There was a time when being emotionally numb kept me from losing my shit on an hourly basis. My mind created this block to save me from myself. I understand that. I’ve felt safe in the numbness for these past few years. I had a whole ass 9 month long relationship, and not one feeling was exchanged. Not any real ones anyway. I was actually able to fake a relationship. 

But…. for a brief moment today, I felt something. And it scared the fuck outta me, and I relished the feeling all at the same time. I was smiling, and my heart did that flutter thing it does when you get excited about a guy {is that just me?}

It was of course, one of those 3 people I mentioned before. Because I can feel a myriad of emotions for people in my past. I can bring up those feelings and those moments with ease. I can bask in the safety those moments (good and bad) bring me, without any real fear of the outcome. Because those are MY memories. 

I don’t have to share them with anyone, even if those memories involve another person. But making NEW memories, extending myself and investing an emotion in someone new….impossible for me. 

And even as I see this happening, I’m unable to force my brain, mind, heart, soul, or whatever controls my emotional muscles, to push (it)themselves past what they already know.  

He made me smile today, just because he thought of me, and had to call.  My heart jumped, and I was short of breath as I picked up the phone. And I felt the love that has always been there, that I’d had forgotten was still there. 

And my first reaction, was to call him back after our conversation ended, and say I need a break from these feels. We can’t talk for a while, because I don’t like this feeling. Not at all. I can’t feel anything real for you, I don’t do that anymore. 

My Confession: I’m really worried I’ll never love anyone again. I’m worried I won’t even try to find it, all because losing it might just take me all the way out.