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Missing You

A few days ago I found the note you left me on my door, that night you came back. I remember wondering, am I strong enough to do this again?  Can I deal with this pain again? Because I knew, even then that losing you was going to be painful. 

About 5 years later, I can still say I miss you. I can still say I wish I was sharing my life with you. Maybe not as my life mate, but certainly as my friend. You were such a good friend, when you weren’t breaking my heart into 1000 pieces. 

But I miss you. As I’m going back to who I was before I met you.  As I’m exploring new boundaries, and trying to take these fantastic leaps of faith. Trusting complete strangers with my life’s goals and plans.  I wish you were here. To lay with me as I express my fears that most people don’t understand. 

I miss feeling so safe. Sometimes, I can be strong and say Thank YOU God that I even got to experience that feeling. So I know it can happen. But tonight, I just wish I had it back. I even called your number….even though I know you changed it. I just…..Do you remember that night we laid in bed, and planned out what our business would look like. All the ideas we had and how we actually prayed for it to happen. 

I kind of hate the fact that I’m doing it without you. Even as I’m afraid of what’s going to happen. Even as I know that I can do whatever I set my mind to, even as I look at what my life has become since you.

I miss you. And part of me always will.  I guess that will have to be enough. Writing you letters in my blog, because I know you will never read them. You didn’t read my blog when we were friends, I’m quite sure you don’t read it now.  But someone in Tucson misses you. 

And I hope that’s enough. I pray that’s enough. It kind of has to be enough. 

New Moon Free Write

I’ve been trying to get myself together for the last 6 months. Actively trying to be mindful of the consequences of my actions. It’s hard as fuck. Because, at least for me, when I’m intentional, it’s much harder to complain about the outcome. I like complaining. It’s kind of my thing. 

That’s not really what this post is about. It’s more about how hard this is for me. How I feel like I’m taking 3 steps forward and 7 steps back. It feels like when 1 thing is working, the other 168907 are not. I decided in June I was going to have weight loss surgery, only to have my company not allow us to do it with their insurance. 

I have finally gotten to the point where I want to do something permanently about my weight, as well as acknowledged that I can’t do it alone, and It was like that world was yelling at me, SIKE! GOTCHA BITCH! So now, I have to do something different. 

That seems to be the theme of 2016 for me: Do Something Different. And I’m trying, Lord knows I’m trying. But again this shit is HARD AS FUCK. Depression is a real thing for me. Therapy helps, I won’t deny that. But thanks to my high ass deductible, I can only do it 2x a month. I need like daily therapy sessions at this point in my life. 

I’m still angry. On June 2nd, when I thought my anger was going to kill me, I said okay girl, talk to somebody. And he’s great. But he’s not there at the local Fry’s at 10pm when I discover some asshole adult has taken wooden letters and spelled out KKK in the craft section on every shelf. He’s not there when I’m trying to not yell at random assholes with Trump stickers on their cars. 

This shit is HARD AS FUCK! By this shit, I mean life. It’s kicking my ass this year. Not to say that it’s been all bad, cuz it hasn’t.  But that’s not the hard part. The good stuff is easy. 

The hard part makes you feel like God doesn’t listen to you. Or maybe he’s just mad at you cuz you happen to be in love with someone you shouldn’t be. Or maybe God doesn’t care cuz there are people in Aleppo with a much harder life than you right now.  So stop being a selfish whiny bitch and deal with your shit. Cuz it could be worse. But this shit is HARD AS FUCK right now. 

So yeah….that’s where I’ve been for the last 2 weeks. Just needed to get all that off my chest. I’m better now, I think. 

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.  

Truth Is . . . . I’m Tired

I used to tell everyone what was going on with me.  My Facebook used to be a minute by minute detailing of every emotion, action, and life event.  I didn’t expect people to wonder where I was, I told them . . .often.

Slowly, I’ve become the opposite.  With every Black Child/Man/Woman who has been killed at the hands of the “authorities,” I’ve slowly shut down. I’ve kept my problems to myself, because they seem quite trivial in the face of Systematic Racism and Murder.  No one told me to stop talking, I just don’t.

With every new hashtag, and every new addition to the “Dangerous to do While Black” list, I’ve become more and more reclusive.  I seem to have collapsed inside myself, and I’m not even sure if I want to come out at this point.  It’s hard at this point, when every single time I open my FB or my Twitter, I’m seeing pictures of people being killed by police, or videos of the aftermath of someone being killed.  Or watching a press conference where a family member breaks down.

Black Pain has become fodder for all to consume.  Even when you try to ignore it, someone is tagging you in a post, or sending you a link.  I tried to escape to Instagram today, and all the Black Celebs that were a day late, and several dollars were posting the videos, or even still pics of crime scenes.  That shit HURTS.  It causes my body to cease up in pain, because I feel every bullet.  I can feel the pain of every mother crying out for their lost child.

This . . . situation . . . has been weighing on me since the Trayvon Martin Trial (We don’t say his killer’s name). I thought about all the children I’ve taught, and the smiles on their faces, and just felt lost. Because I can’t save them.  I can’t hold them close, and make sure they are going to live forever.  I can’t even guarantee that a trip to the pool won’t end in abuse.  I can’t tell them walking to the store won’t end their death.  My crew is driving now, I can’t guarantee they won’t get pulled over and killed during a “routine” traffic stop.

That existence, the fact that I live in a world where this is the Norm, TERRIFIES me.  Since my seizure, my emotions have started to work differently.  I don’t understand them.  In addition to that, and I know this sounds crazy, I’ve been having prophetic dreams.  Nothing normal like, “so and so is pregnant,” or “you should play these numbers tomorrow.”  No, I wake up in tears, trying to stop screams from escaping my mouth so my mom doesn’t hear me.

On  the morning of June 12th, I had the scariest dream to date.  My mom and I had gone to a club to see someone perform, and we were having a great time.  All of a sudden people were running and screaming, “There is an Arabic Guy coming to kill us!” We guided everyone into the bathroom, and we were all huddled in one stall.  As he walked in the bathroom, I turned to my mom and told her I loved her, because I knew we were going to die.  Then I woke up.

I checked my phone to see news of the Pulse nightclub shooting.  I haven’t been right since.  Because, What the FUCK?!?! If that’s a Gift from God, I’m not sure how he expects me to use it.  Since that dream, I’ve only been able to remember parts of.  But I’m still afraid of where my mind will take me some nights. This World . . . This World is stressing me OUT.

I haven’t even talked about what’s been going on in my LIFE this year.  I probably won’t. Because my burdens are small compared to those of others.  Problems have come up, I’ve solved them, the best way I know how.  Maybe, when I’m famous, I’ll talk about how my life changed in 2016.  ‘Cuz it surely has.

This post is all over the place. It’s not very coherent (in my opinion). But I promised my Therapist (yes, I have one of those now) I would take at least 15 minutes to write. And I try to keep my promises, especially when they are basically homework toward healing.

30 Day Writing Challenge: Catch Up Post (Place to Live & Someone who Fascinates Me)

So Like, LIFE has been taking up a lot of my time lately. So I had to double up today in order to catch up . . .

London

A Place to Live that I Haven’t Visited.

London! I love British everything! The accents, the countryside, the TV Shows.  Plus, if i move there, I won’t have to learn another language.  Also, it’s a metropolitan place with access to lots of different countries.  I could head to Rome for the weekend, or hop on a train to Paris like it’s NOTHING.

I always wanted to backpack through Europe when I was in high school, then my mom reminded me that I was Black, and poor, and I couldn’t do everything my white friends did.

That’s okay though, cuz the summer after I turn 40 . . . this is the plan. Not to move there, but to at least spend a month exploring Europe.

Someone who Fascinates Me

Honestly, all people fascinate me.  I can’t really pick just one person.  My Top Five: Jill Scott, Dave Chappelle, Bill Gates, Oprah, and Jesus.

Jill Scott – Because her music has always spoken to me, but her life views have been off putting in the past.  I’d love to pick her brain.

Dave Chappelle – Cuz I think he’s a genius.  I love the way he thinks about the world, and we have the same taste in music.

Bill Gates – I just wanna talk him into giving me money.  That’s it.

Oprah – Yeah, I gots some bones to pick with her.  Cuz she can educate African Girls, but she can’t answer all the letters i sent her in high school about helping me building a child care center in the hood.

Jesus – I just need to know his stance on Homosexuality, Poly Amory, and Racism. That’s it. I need him to verify that the Bible is JUST  a book, not a way to govern our life.  Yeah, that’s all I would need from him 🙂

The Possibility of Us . . .

In my 20’s, I used to make playlists for everything.  Even before the Great Spotify, I needed a soundtrack for whatever my life was at that moment.  They all had super emo names, like “The Living Struggle,”  or “Why do I still Love Him?” etc. It was my way of singing out my problems.  It was a good catharsis for me.  I could instantly go to the song I needed to hear, sing and cry on my porch or balcony, write 7 blogs, send 3 or 4 passive-aggressive emails or texts, and I could move on with life.

In my 30’s, the loss of music has let me know I’m going through something.  When I would rather listen to NPR in car, or Old Podcasts I’ve listened to 1000 times, I know I’m due to have some sort of emotional breakdown.  Living with Depression has taught me everything isn’t sadness.  It isn’t “OMG my life falling apart,” it’s instead I have something I need to.  I have to find the music again.  Find the song, or the playlist, or the lyric that is going to express EXACTLY where I am.  I’ve gotten to the point where I am too busy with everyday life to wallow in my emotions.

That’s probably a good thing, especially for my friends who have been with me through my adult life so far. Because I KNOW they were tired of all the emo ass texts, and phone calls crying over the same person, or the same situation, or some conversation over and over again.  I’m trying to be a better friend.  My last relationship ended just as it began, with little to no fanfare.  No one knew it was over, it just was. That’s the adult way to do it, right? However, tonight, while driving home from my last tutoring session, a random Spotify Playlist lead me all up in my feelings.

I Present to you: Selections from The Possibility of Us.

Poision & Wine – The Civil Wars

I miss MM.  I’ve accepted the fact I miss the intimacy we had.  I can acknowledge that it was unhealthy to a great extent, but also wish I was that naive again.  I trusted every word that came out of his mouth.  I gave every single part of me, gladly, and without Fear.  I’m so cynical and untrusting these days.  I cut people off when I feel they are about to hit me with a bullshit excuse.  I don’t have faith in anyone except my inner circle.  I expect people to lie, and be unfaithful, and bad.  I long for the girl I was when I fell in love with MM.

spotify:track:3yKsX1l5OoLJU5TDzkajLd

Stay – Sugarland

I’ll never be a Side Chick again. It’s not because of something stupid, like morals or whatever. It’s because I’m over the bullshit.  The conversations that used to woo me into that position no longer hold the same weight.  I don’t need you to tell me, “I can’t talk to my wife/girlfriend/lover the way I can talk to you,” in order to feel special.  I don’t need the ego stroke anymore.  Maybe i’ve grown up, or maybe it’s that cynicism.  I’ve come to realize, every Man/Woman has a choice.  You can control yourself.  You can get a divorce. You can break up with your partner. Just like you choose to not be honest with your significant other, I can choose to tell you that you are full of shit, and need to put on your big boy boxers and handle your business.  You aren’t staying for the kids, you are staying for you.  Until you are important enough to you, get the fcuk outta here.

spotify:track:6k0MYs7iejQfLAtJBmxCiC

One Day You Will – Deborah Cox

I’m still looking for the connection I had with TBTLNY.  No one has ever given me that same feeling, which means everyone eventually disappoints me.  {This is probably means I’m continually setting myself up for failure, but you know, whatevs} Which is kind of stupid, since clearly I’m not with him right now. It was a teenage love, but it was STRONG. I would have climbed mountains, and swam oceans, and ran marathons to keep that love in my life.  That feeling, it’s a high I’ve been seeking out since I got the first taste. My life’s addiction is that high.  I can admit that to myself, and even understand how unhealthy that is.  Craving an emotional connection with someone is just as harmful as a drug addiction, because it could lead to putting yourself in dangerous situations.

spotify:track:6RLkxQmjmbB6ItZBOwSK73

I Won’t Give Up (Demo Version) – Jason Mraz

I wish I believed in Love like this again.  Even if I go out searching for it, I don’t believe I will actually find it.  Which is kind of sad right? But it’s the truth.  To be able to say to someone, “I’m not going to quit.  I’m going to love you enough, to work on this.  To grow with you, no away from you.” It requires a certain level of vulnerability and openness, and a trust that I don’t have. And I WISH I had it.  I wish I was that Girl who sat on the phone talking to TBTLYN for 12 hours.  I wish was the Girl who made a mixtape for MM because I couldn’t find an easy way to say I loved him.  I wish I was the Girl who smiled at text messages from my current crush.

I’m Not Anymore.

And I really don’t even know what that makes me? Who am I now? My Love of Love kind of defined me for a while.  I hate romantic comedies, because they are so unrealistic. I used to swear that Carrie Bradshaw was my Love Guru, she was an Idiot.  Big was an asshole! I used to read Trashy Romance Novels in one sitting, I don’t even buy them anymore. Maybe my heart’s been broken too many times, maybe I just need a break from love.  Fuck if I know.

I bask in other people’s relationships.  I’m happy for their love.  I’m not like a Love Hater. I see beautiful relationships all around me, and I’m so pleased for my friends.  I’m equally content with my current busy life/schedule. I’m just . . . . trying to figure myself out now.

spotify:user:joy4yourmind:playlist:4BBLwI0EIkIEM6mfl89ae3

Free Write: Souled Out – Jhene Aiko

*This album just appeared in my dropbox.  We don’t ask questions.*

 

48 Minutes of Goodness

Track #1 – Limbo

I got off work early, and felt the need to write. I got home, packed up all my stuff and made my way to my local Starbucks.  The minute I say down, all my motivation left me. I’ve never had that happen to me.  Starbucks in my safe place, my writer’s Haven as it were.  Suddenly the smell of coffee did nothing to entice me.  The creative juices refused to flow.  I tried so hard to get in the groove, looked at blogs I had left in my drafts, and NOTHING. Immediately I was unsettled.  Does this mean my writing talent is gone? Do I hate Starbucks now? WHAT IS LIFE?

Track #2 – W.A.Y.S

Clearly, as I’m currently sitting here {in my Living room} writing, it’s not gone. But I think the need to escape to Starbucks to write had more to do with escaping the clutter I lived in at the time.  A place where I could stretch out and just create.  NowI have that, at home. Crazy! Sitting on the couch in my living room is just as peaceful to me as sitting at the table at Maple and Orchard Lake used to be. I can finally write at home.  That hasn’t happened in . . . 5 years. The last time I wrote at a place I was living was my first Apartment in Arizona.

Track #3 – To Love & Die ft. Cocaine 80’s

I’m currently on a Celibacy Quest until January of 2016.  It’s a Quest because penis’ seem to throw themselves at me.  I’ll be minding my own business, and one will just pop up in my face. I had to fight them off in Michigan! The two years I spent in Michigan – was like Bad Decision Amusement Park.  I tried out all the rides, had entirely too many ups and downs before I landed on my own two feet.  I opened new doors, closed one or two, and tried my best to put my past behind me.  Admitting that you ruined a friendship with sexual tension sucks.

Track #4 – Spotless Mind

I regret some of the choices I’ve made in the past 2 years.  Maybe regret isn’t the right word.  I wish I would have been as mature then as I am now.  I was hurting, and male attention is – and always has been – my coping mechanism. {Read: Daddy Issues} What was supposed to be a one time escapade, became something that somehow cheapened our friendship. Sex really does ruin everything.  He was the first person I’ve ever had sex with, that I felt an actual emotional connection with. It meant something to me. It shouldn’t have, I told him it didn’t. We swore it wouldn’t change our friendship, one that we’d had for 10+ year.  It did tho.  Suddenly, I felt like he wasn’t paying me enough attention.  I wanted to see him all the time, I wanted him to comfort me when I had a bad day at work. Sex is stupid. It ruins everything . . . and I really really really miss my friend.

Track #5 – It’s Cool

Admitting all of that felt good.  So let’s just keep admitting things.  I’m attracted to at least 2 people I shouldn’t be.  Not JUST because they are in relationships, but because liking them violates my personal – although twisted – moral code.  We don’t like our friend’s ex’s.  Ex HumpBuddy, Ex Boyfriend, Ex Fiance, Ex Husband. You don’t do it. But every time I see these two people, I try to justify stepping outside of the boundaries I set for myself in 1997. {Yes, I know the year, it was a very traumatic one for me}

Track #6 – Lyin King

Back when I was a Jezebel . . . I used to call guys I liked, and tell them I had a dream about them in order to peak their interest.  Then say, “Hey, why don’t you come over for dinner, I can tell you all about it.” This usually lead to Bow Chikka Wow Wow.  Best trick ever! In the last 4 days, I’ve had 6 . . . six . . . seis . . . dreams about men in my life. Some very graphic, some super awkward, some very comforting . . . but all of them made me want to reach out to these men, and just talk to them.  However, my current Sabattical restrictions mean I can’t.

Track #7 – Wading (Played this Twice.  It goes)

This whole learning restraint, and practicing it thing . . . I’m kind of proud of myself to be honest.  Most of my friends don’t think I will or can last until 2016. But it’ve done it before . . . of course that was because I didn’t know anyone in AZ and I wasn’t actively trying to meet anyone.  The goal is to focus on self.  To accomplish my goals – the reasons for moving back here – on my own.  Without being able to attribute any failures or successes to anyone but myself. “I was sad because so and so didn’t come over; I missed that deadline because I was hanging out with so and so; etc.” I used to do that all the time . . . blame events/feelings/emotions on other people.  Now that I have acknowledged it, I have to stop doing it, right? That’s the plan anyway. I’ve been here about 100 days, and stayed focused.

Track #8 – The Pressure

That’s not to say shit hasn’t come out of the woodwork since I’ve been back.  People have showed up out of the blue, people I thought I would never talk to again.  Funny the things you choose to deal with, and what you won’t.  When I decided to be celibate, I lost male friends. Because they tried to test me . . . CRAZY to me. When I was 12, my best friend at the time told me, “Boys and Girls can’t be friends for real.  Someone always likes the other one, even if they know it’s just a friendship.” My best friend was a Boy. AWKWARD. I mean, sure I had a crush on him but it’s not like I acted on it.

Track #9 – Brave

Consciousness has ruined my life.  Most of the behaviors I used to put up with/act on/ allow others to justify currently annoy the SHIT out of me. This is another reason I’ve kept to myself.  It’s unfair to assume everyone should think like me. It’s not their fault they don’t see the world the same way I do.  Ferguson brought that to the forefront for me once again.  I had already lost interest in certain movies and music and people when I became conscious of how prevalent Misogyny and Sexism is in the world around me.  Now, once again, I can see all the Systematic Racism in America.

Track #10 – Eternal Sunshine

I’m annoyed easily now.  I want to do more to change the world.  I judge myself that I’m not doing more to help those less fortunate than me.  It’s difficult to put into intelligent words this feeling of . . . Do Better, Be Better. Someone asked on twitter tonight what kind of volunteer work people were doing, and I couldn’t chime in.  At least when I was working full time, I had an excuse.  But now . . . what is my excuse? I can justify my lack of involvement  . . . but it’s a lazy and self righteous justification.  My life isn’t hard right now, so why aren’t I don’t something?

Track #11 – Promises

I refuse to commit to or admit to – on paper or on screen – my true goals.  I’ve become very paranoid about letting people know my wishes and dreams.  I once spoke them freely, and not only did “friends” try to tear them down and destroy them . . . I really think they wished/prayed for me to fail. This lack of trust that lives inside of me is new. It’s unfortunate as well, at least to me. But it’s needed.  Another layer of protection from hurt.  But I need to start working on my plans I made when I first got here.  I’m afraid to fail, because I’ve finally figured out what I want to do.

Track #12 – Pretty Bird

If you had asked me at the beginning of this Free Write the goal . . . I would have said a poem of sorts.  That’s what is so awesome to me about doing a Free Write to music.  I’ve always said you don’t pick the music, the music picks you. This album was a great one to listen to while I tried to sort out my thoughts/feelings.  When I couldn’t write at Starbucks, I felt a way. I had on the wrong type of music. I also wasn’t in my safe space.

But I’m Home Now, and my mind/soul is clear. If you got this far, thanks for reading.  Cop the Album too.  It’s pretty good 🙂