It’s World Narcissistic Abuse Recovery Day 2023, and I’m thankful for “that day that I woke up” from one of the most twisted and chaotic living nightmares a human being can ever live through, survive, then RISE to tell about:

“What Lied Beneath“

As for the devil? He never ONCE turned back see what he had done! It was such an easy choice for him to just discard me as the unwanted “baggage” he’d once referred to as my son. As for me? It was everything, because I loved him (or so I thought), trusted him, and had given him every piece of my already broken heart I could have given.

“Starving A Narcissist“

At first, he gaslight it back to my insanity, but a friend hooked my phone up to a recording device so I could at least try to bait the truth out of him in what he thought was a private conversation. Lol! The dumb fuck actually fell for it! I then took the recording to the used car dealership that Angie’s family owned and played it for her father and brother, who was one of John’s best friends. Needless to say, it didn’t end well for the small man and dear, sweet ‘lil Angie. I’d been vindicated! Believe me when I say that although this tale seems way too far fetched, the people who helped me bust “Hoovery McNarcissist” at what was almost his best mind fuck EVER are both still very much alive to tell about it.

“Hoovery MacHooverson“

“Hey you! I was just thumbing through my text stream and realized that my text to you this morning was green, and I’m like “did you block me” and then I went straight to your voicemail when calling, so … did you block me before or after I sent you that text?” Lol. You were just “thumbing through your text stream”, huh? Umm, NO, little man MacHoovy Hoove, you were checking your old supply! We all know that little narcissist boys just don’t like being bored or alone, and I Jean Claude Van DAMN bet that you’d REALLY “value” a conversation. What’s the matter MacHoovy? Are ya feeling unadored? Well now, ain’t that a kick in the go take a dirt nap ya purely evil mini-bastard!

“The Chronicles Of MacHoovery“

At this point, these chronicles are getting kinda funny. Be it known, however, that although this Diary entry is dated February 20, 2022, because that’s when the little fucker called me yet again, I didn’t find it on my phone until a week later. Why is that you ask? Well, my friends, “Catherine Marie” (throwing up in my own mouth) has left the building, Satan is BLOCKED and DISREGARDED, and long gone are the days that I go digging through fuckin’ trashcans. Well, wait. I take that back. Rebirthing and reinventing seemingly useless things is one of my favorite things to do, but only if that garbage is worth my time and attention.

“Old MacHOOVER Had A Farm“

Meanwhile, guess who’s still calling who after 23 fucking years, still keeping our “special dates” on his calendar, and still thinking of ME when he sees a a drop dead gorgeous woman on social media. Although, I must admit that he was dead-on, tiny balls accurate in that correlation, ’cause, umm, for a “fifty-THREE-it’s-SO-good-to-be-ME” year old biotch, I STILL look pretty good. So, with that, “Hey, you … MacHeebie FUCKING Jeebie?

HOW DO YA LIKE ME NOW?

Narcissistic abuse is psychological and emotional. As such, because there are no physical scars, it’s wreckage is all but impossible to prove. Meanwhile, since there are no laws against mind-fucking, name calling, belittling, degrading, and isolating their victims, narcissists can very fly under the radar unscathed, unrecognized, and unpunished for entire lifetimes. It’s imperative to note that most people diagnosed with NPD have a pattern of NOT taking responsibility for their behaviors, impulsivity, and a lack of empathy. This makes them relatively resistant to treatment or change. After all, ya can’t fix something you don’t think is broken:

Narcissistic personality disorder is a mental health condition in which people have an unreasonably high sense of their own importance. They need and seek too much attention and want people to admire them. People with this disorder may lack the ability to understand or care about the feelings of others. But behind this mask of extreme confidence, they are not sure of their self-worth and are easily upset by the slightest criticism.

{The Mayo Clinic}

The ONLY way to end narcissistic abuse is to raise awareness and educate people about what it is, the often subtle warning signs, and how to avoid these “things” that walk among us all together. Knowledge, awareness, and education are the critical armor needed to avoid being tangled in their webs. Those THAT (not “who”) are narcissistic abusers tend to seek out prey that are already in a weakened and vulnerable psychological state. Why is that you ask? Because these SPAWN are so weak, themselves, that the only prey they can run after are the ones even weaker than them. It’s laughable to think about.

To anyone reading this who has ever been ensnared by one of these animals, BE PROUD! Actually? Now that I think of it, calling them “animals” is an abysmal discredit to the animal kingdom, since studies have shown that most animals are sentient and therefore capable of “feelings”. Narcissists are not! At any rate, please listen to this song if you or someone you know is a narc abuse survivor, then celebrate today for having awakened and risen from their chaos. Breaking free from one of those THING’S cages is not for the faint of heart and ONLY the strong survive them!

CHAOS

Each day is a war. A fight we must face. Our backs to the wall. Our hands bound and tied. Our feet in the grave. Sometimes, I feel it’s what kills me inside. Sometimes, I feel it’s what keeps me alive. So, take the world that you hate … the pain that you face … ’cause only the strong will survive! Break the cage of your life. Awaken the fire inside! Let the chaos bring you to life! The deeper we fall, the higher we soar. The scars show us all we will survive when we can’t take anymore. Sometimes, I feel it’s what keeps me alive. So, take the world that you hate … the pain that you face … ’cause only the strong will survive! Break the cage of your life. Awaken the fire inside! Let the chaos bring you to life! Drain the world ’til it’s all gone! {Like A Storm}

Call your name every day when I feel so helpless. I’ve fallen down, but I’ll rise above this, rise above this. I’ll mend myself before it gets me.

{Seether}

Thank you to those of you who have reached out to me this last week, even though I haven’t returned a SINGLE call or text. I appreciate you more than you’ll ever know. Imma be alright, though. Not only do I have no other choice, but I wouldn’t even WANT another choice. Falling and rising over and over again are what I was meant to do.

~ Real Bat

I mean …

~ Real CAT

Who wants to guess what THE best argument I’ve ever had was?

Wait for it …

Wait for it …

DING! DING! DING! DING! DING! DING! The best argument I’ve ever had is the ones I never had by simply refusing to argue. I’m not gonna lie, folks – the demon on my shoulder who still rears its head now and then loves it when the people who want me to argue with them only get a smirk and laugh they can’t hear but KNOW is happening in my head when they’re trying to take me toe to toe on something but they can’t! I WIN! THEY LOSE!

If YOU’VE never felt the power of not giving people the satisfaction of letting them revert you back to a toddler who can’t control their emotions, I cannot recommend it enough. Once you’ve felt it, it actually becomes addictive, and the mastery of your OWN art of war will reach new and epic heights. It’s the “Art Of War” SUPREME, my friends, and it probably makes Sun Tzu smile even bigger than those little trolls from our dark side that we keep on a leash do! Why not give it a try?

… because if you you’re a women who’s given birth and sleeps well at night knowing that, NO, your heart does not live inside your own body anymore, and NO, it will never will, I’m sorry that I’m not sorry to say that you’re probably not doing it right. Dare I mention, most ashamedly, those countless times in my foolish youth when my own mother would say those words that are impossible for anyone to understand unless or until they’ve given birth:

I can’t sleep until I know that you’re home safe.

When I was a teenager, then off to college and on my own, I’d just roll my eyes and think she was being dramatical. Now that I’m a mother? Those words hit pretty hard! No momma worth her weight in love rests a single day in her life unless she knows her babies are “safe inside“, even when they have their own babies.

Regardless of how strong my faith in God has been, is now, or will ever be, there has yet to be one single day as a mother that I haven’t incessantly worried about my kids. This includes the waking and sleeping hours of all my pregnancies, and even worrying about “my other kids“. Motherhood changes you permanently, and is, perhaps, the most beautiful of all double-edged swords. Studies have shown that:

Mothers around the world say they feel like their children are still a part of them long after they’ve given birth. As it turns out, that is literally true. During pregnancy, cells from the fetus cross the placenta and enter the mother’s body, where they can become part of her tissues.

(Smithsonian)

I am here to tell you that yes, it is true, that we mothers really do “feel” our children long after they leave our wombs, which is why I believe that when they say, “a mother is only as strong as her weakest child”, said weakness isn’t just psychological … it’s physiological, too.

“The Hood”.

It’s the single most important job in the world:

Still, the sobering truth is that it’s the woman’s hand that was meant to rock the cradle. We’re the Earth, the Sun, the Moon, the stars and the entire effing COSMOS to the babies we bear, and even wild animals know this to be true and often do much better jobs of raising their children than some of the “things” with wombs.

{“Mamas Boys“}

If you were blessed to have been hired for “the job” that simply ain’t for the faint of heart, be proud, HANG TOUGH, and cut yourself some slack when necessary, because walking around the face of this often wicked place with your own raw heart in shaking hands on a ground covered with broken glass isn’t easy.

To all my mom friends out there: I SEE YOU! Just because we don’t all speak out loud about how we all spend every waking and sleeping hour fending of the nightmares we have about the things that can hurt our kids – EVEN WHEN THEY’RE 30 – it doesn’t mean we don’t all understand this unspoken bond of “The Mother HOOD”. This beautiful little “Hood nugget” moment from late last December between my own mother and all of us posted below is but a prime example of exactly what I am saying. HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY, MOM! We all love you … “food-pushing” and all!

To My Babies On This,

My 30th Mother’s Day:

If for some reason I forget to tell you this today: THANK YOU FOR THE GIFT OF BEING YOUR MOM! It has been and will always be my utmost and highest calling, privilege, and honor. I love you both to The Moon and back!

ONE HEARTBEAT AT A TIME

You’re up all night with a screaming baby. You run all day at the speed of life. And every day you feel a little bit less like the beautiful woman you are. So, you fall into bed when you run out of hours, and you wonder if anything worth doing got done. Oh, maybe you just don’t know, or maybe you’ve forgotten … YOU … you are changing the world one little heartbeat at a time. Making history with every touch and every smile. Oh … YOU … you may not see it now, but I believe that time will tell how YOU … you are changing the world one little heartbeat at a time. With every, “I know you can do it”, and every tear that you kiss away. So many little things that seem to go unnoticed … they’re just like the drops of rain, over time they become a river. And YOU … you are changing the world one little heartbeat at a time. Making history with every touch and every smile. (Steven Curtis Chapman)

Dear Me,

You took a shot to the chin? Looks like you just can’t win in this do or die situation. And it’s harder than it seems to survive, keep alive, and make your dreams all come true. Oh! You gotta give it your best shot! Give it everything you got! Oh! You gotta hang tough!

Sometimes love can make you blue … a heartache made just for you … but you can’t let it bring ya down. If you should stumble, if you should fall, PICK YOURSELF BACK UP OFF THE FLOOR! Fight for what’s right and stand your ground! Oh! You gotta give it your best shot! Give it everything you got! Oh! You gotta hang tough! When the goin’ gets rough … hang tough! Keep your head above the ground!

Don’t you let it get you down!

Don’t stay locked away inside your room, even though you know what this world is comin’ to. Hummingbird hums ’cause he don’t know the words, and the piper will play, ’cause he don’t know what to say. He’s a lot like you, yeah. Oh, he’s alot like you, yeah. He tries hard every day to be free and fly away. Yeah! HANG TOUGH!

I Love You, Me!

~ You

{Words Adapted}

In honor of “International SUN Day“, lemme ask you a question:

Are you focused on what YOU are after?

THE KEY TO YOUR NEXT OPEN CHAPTER?

I don’t know who needs to hear this right now, but not only is no one gonna steal The Sun for you, but literally, no one else can! Loving yourself is an inside job my friends. Yes, it IS a choice. YES, IT IS ALLOWED!

… and above all things, don’t forget to shine your Light, fly from the inside, and spread your infection everywhere you roam! Sing and scream your joy so loud that even strangers will feel it oozing from your soul!

(“When The Sun Is Hard To Find“)

(ps)

In case you didn’t know this already, there’s enough of Her to go around for all of us! She can shine simultaneously in infinite spaces and lifetimes and illuminate our independent universes at once. She’s kinda magic that way, so, there’s no competition necessary or need whatsoever to dampen or extinguish anyone else’s sunshine.

If you’re that cranky parasite running around out there that no one wants to be around, who literally make peoples’ skin crawl with an ass ugly scowl permanently etched across your face, or worse yet, who people are gonna have to find a way to “fake cry” through your funeral one day, do better! Do ya hear me? Being a toxic wasteland of a sunshine killer is gross! It’s gross, I’m tellin’ ya! IT’S GROSS!

If you are “misery” just waiting for a place to happen and don’t even wanna try to get out of your own way and CHOOSE joy, do the rest of us who are mindfully and willfully making the best of our humanity gig here beneath The Sun a favor, just stay home and save us all from YOU! As for me? Imma be SCREAM singing all damn day long today!

(pSs)

This is yet another one of those songs that has earned a place in this Diary more than once!

In closing, while in the process of writing this to you, I think I’ve discovered that in a way, these words are not just from me to you, but from me to me. It appears that we are both standing at a crossroad right now, aren’t we? Congratulations my graduate, I LOVE YOU! It’s time for you to FLY FROM THE INSIDE!

(“Fly From The Inside“)

FLY FROM THE INSIDE

Is the weight of the world on my shoulders? Is the weight of the world on my shoulders? On my shoulders … All alone I pierce the chain. And all in all the sting remains. And dying eyes consume me now. The voice inside screams out loud, I am focused on what I am after. The key to the next open chapter. Cause I found a way to steal the sun from the sky. Long live that day that I decided to fly from the inside. Every day a new deception. Pick your scene and take direction. And all in all I search to connect. But I don’t wear a mask and I have no regrets. I am focused on what I am after. The key to the next open chapter. ‘Cause I found a way to steal the sun from the sky. Long live that day that I decided to fly from the inside. I can’t escape the pain. I can’t control the rage. Sometimes I think that I’m gonna go insane. I’m not against what’s right. I’m not for what’s wrong. I’m just making my way and I’m gone. {Shinedown}

Lift me up above this. The broken, the empty. Lift me up and help me to fly away. I’m gonna change history … enlighten the world … teach ’em how to see through my eyes. I’m gonna lash back … check that fate as a heart attack … stomp out all the ugliest lies!

In honor of this 10th birthday of one of THE most epic phoenix battle cries of all times, here’s to all the ones like ME who say:

FUCK all those ashes this world tried to DUST me in!

LIFT ME UP!

… then find the strength to pick themselves back up off a ground that was meant to keep them there in pieces and RISE! Just sayin’.

Some of you may just see a picture of some random black bird sitting on a statue, but I see a bold and brazen corvid staking the claim of one of the most powerful rulers in history, Charlemagne, “King Of The Franks”, the father of Europe.

With that, and in honor both this glorious International Crow And Raven Appreciation Day and my fascination with corvids, allow me to introduce you to Karlsson, a friend and backyard resident of one of my friends and fellow “crowpagandists”, Spitfire Sparky. She snapped these epic shots of him in front of a Hamburg, Germany church in her area.

Meanwhile, good King Karl, who’d have ever thunk that a CROW would take your crown? Surely you must have missed the memo that one should NEVER cross a crow!

Long live the king …

“King Karlsson The GREATER”!

May you serve your brethren well! More importantly, still, ALL HAIL THE KING OF HEAVEN who gifted us with the wonder of these magnificent creatures!

I LOVE THIS QUESTION

“Some people” do understand people and “some people” simply do not. In my opinion, the people who do understand people the most are those who understand themselves. Which is not to say that understanding ourselves is always easy. It’s not!

The process of our understanding of ourselves begins at our first breath the day we are born, through other people’s lenses, perspectives, realities and experiences. Such that, if our first understanding of ourselves is through the eyes, words, thoughts and actions of emotionally mature, healthy and functional people, it is easier to get know and understand who we really are, and thus perpetuate that outwards to other people.

UNDERSTANDING that “we are what we reflect” is the key to all understanding!

Well, at least where people are concerned, that is. What we see and understand in our own mirrors is what we see and understand (or not see and understand) in others:

⏸️ At the end of the day, neither projection, deflection, or any clinical words, phrases, or diagnoses mean a hill of beans. PERCEPTION IS EVERYTHING, my friends, and aside from our faith, the only thing we really need to understand to navigate this “peopling” gig.

We are NOT what people think of us … we are what people think of THEMSELVES! So, try to remember that the next time you think about letting other peoples’ opinions control your life or define you. Someone else’s opinion of you is merely a reflection of their own personal experiences, beliefs, and realities, and sometimes a reflection of a war they’re battling within themselves. Only take what is useful and valuable from other peoples’ words, thoughts, and “opinions”. NOTHING MORE! NOTHING LESS! Only YOU know the size and shape of the shoes you’ve been walking in every single day since the minute you were born, and only YOU know how the comfort, fit, and style of those shoes have shaped YOU!

In being honest and taking this even further, for me, it’s only my self-reflection through God’s eyes that matters to me. But hey, you know what? My faith journey is my faith journey, and although I do so wish you ALL well on your own faith journeys, that’s a totally different Diary entry for another day. In the meantime, you just do whatever it takes to make friends with that person you see standing in the mirror, because like it or not, that beautiful creature looking back at you is your ride or die from this day ’til eternity! How YOU feel and what YOU think of YOU is EVERYTHING!

(“The Stranger In The Mirror” from The Diary Of My Perfection ) ⏸️

Okay, my Quoran peeps, that’s all she wrote. Lol. “Umm, but she wrote an entire dissertation.” I know, RIGHT? It’s what I do! Oh, and for the record, while I am NOT a doctor, mental health professional, or “peopling” expert, I am just over a half a century old, with a vast wealth of hard-earned “understanding people” experience. Dare I say that, like most of us girls and boys who are skipping and SCREAMING through our epic GOLDEN years, I probably should have a masters degree in human survival and the accompanying white sheet and lamppost of the most learned philosophers in history. I JUST KNOW SHIT, and I love to tell it, because I’m pretty sure that’s what we’re ALL meant to do. Gate keeping all these human survival skills would just be WRONG!

(“The Real Cat Williamson On Quora“)

… that morning you wake up after having made your intentions and the desires of your heart abundantly clear to the Cosmos, find this message, then expel your uncontainable joy to your ex-best friend turned nemesis:

To My Dragon BITCH:

For the longest time, you held me down, but I got back up and brushed off the ashes you dusted me with. Now? It’s MY turn to dust YOU with the ashes you left me to fucking DIE in alone, but instead, just propelled my flight. HEAR MY VOICE! It’s the thunder that’s coming to shake the ground and hold YOU down like the bitch you always were. Consider this my FIRST of many roars! Before my time is done here, if I have ANYTHING to do with it, UNREST assured knowing that there WILL be others who I personally send for you and yours!

~ YOUR Dragon Bitch 🗡️

For the record, I recently sent out fifty plus emails to random eating disorder programs around the country. In the meantime, I’d received a powerful message of support from a virtual friend I’ve made on Instagram, along with her own bittersweet reasons why my hell bent mission to ROAR does matter:

As a female who had to watch that bitch dragon try to eat my little sister for decades, I understand so much of your story. Like you, she’s at a place finally where she’s fairly certain she will not relapse again. The same cannot be said for my beautiful friend. You remind me so much of her. Sadly, unlike your amazing self, she didn’t win. Her dragon devoured her, all while looking forward to her very first grand baby, while finally being loved by a man who was devoted to her and cherished her after her first husband severely abused her. She left behind a one year old son that she worked two years to conceive after a miscarriage and to change her “eating habits” (her words then) so that she could be a healthy pregnant Mom who was going to “do it right this time.” I will never forget her second husband’s words as he told the world what happened the day she collapsed and the fight was finished:

“She’s gone, my beautiful wife, my heart, my life, is gone. Why wasn’t I enough, was my adoration and devotion and love not enough. Why was our son not enough to fill her emptiness and fix her wounds.”

She had been fighting her dragon for thirty years. I think you are finding your calling. I’m a firm believer that things happen to us for reasons and sometimes it’s the hardest things that make the biggest impact on others. I know without a doubt there are lives out there ready and waiting for you to connect. Your story alone is so powerful and inspirational that you may save some other human from feeling his words, so, I thank you from the depths of my heart and soul for putting your story out there for those who truly need it.

I’m doing this, people! It’s finally gonna happen! I can feel it in my bones and crawling beneath my skin! If only one person hears my story then makes it their own hell bent mission to slay the fucking dragon, that’s enough!

“A Life Of Use To Others“

JUST WATCH ME!

Why, yes! Yes, I was “singing” in my house on a Saturday night, and doing it so loudly that two little boys from my hood who were passing by my castle on an acre of land with a 6,000 foot long driveway heard me doing it. Lol! What must they have been thinking? God love the precious little souls who ended up giving me a random gift that I never would seen coming:

Is she happy? Is she mad? Is she getting hacked up by a contractor who’d been hiding in her attic? Maybe we’ll just leave her a note?

Yes, I really was “a little bit off” last night at home just “SCREAM singing” my lungs out in my ugliest pajamas, powerfully but perhaps not so gracefully! Lol. The voices in my head truly ARE legendary and Imma make sure EVERYONE can fuckin’ hear ’em!

By the way, never will i EVER throw that sweet little post it note away. I’ll treasure it along with all the sweet little “everythings” my own kids have gifted me over the years, especially when they were just about the ages of those two little nuggets who rang my doorbell! Lol. Don’t be surprised if I don’t end up having “Are You SINGING?” t-shirts printed before it’s all said and done and handing them out to random strangers!

‼️NEWSFLASH‼️

Today is “National Lima Bean Respect Day“, and if you think I’m joking … I’m NOT! The powers that be went and made an actual day of honor for what I believe are GOD-FORSAKEN legumes. With that, I am reminded about that day I was SHOOKEN last year by one of those “QUORA QUESTIONS” I love to hate so much that, much like lima beans, are the BANE of my existence:

What extreme measures do ugly people to take to feel good about themselves?

Umm, REALLY? This question is literally unacceptable, because beauty truly is in the eye of the beholder, as what may be beautiful to one may not be beautiful to another. One person’s Mona Lisa, Starry Night, or David, might be another person’s dart board, nightmare, or ogre. What a person finds “aesthetically pleasing” is a matter of purely individual perception, reality, value, and belief.

There’s this silly thing I used to say to my kids when they were little:

Not everyone likes lima beans!

These words have always been so beyond fitting in our family, because while some of us all but CRAVE those disgusting legumes, to the rest of us they are the bane of OUR existence.

Meanwhile, my friends … AND I CANNOT STRESS THIS ENOUGH … anyone who uses the word “ugly” to describe a human being, is, IN FACT, the epitome of that very word:

Unattractive. Repulsive. Unpleasant. Hideous. Ill-favored. NASTY!

… and, might I add, Jean-Claude Van DAMN kinda disgusting and “GROSS”! [See Below]

How many of YOU can say that you’re still best friends with your high school sweetheart ~ 38 years and counting ~ and that he still sends you love songs?

Okay, so, maybe “Bad Company” isn’t quite a “love song”, BUT, the mere fact that there’s at least one person in this world who thinks of me when they get Death Punched is as close to a cosmic hug as could be.

Death Punch, Lucky Charms, crows, dirty hair, plastic crowns, trash can clothes, an unfiltered mouth that talks too damn much, a life filled with incomprehensible joy and laughter, and an unbridled heart filled with unwavering gratitude and unconditional love for those who I call MINE? Why, yes. Yes, I am.

I truly AM “Power + Grace” …

… PLUS the luckiest QUEEN alive!

That’s the masterpiece of a legacy I’m working on, folks, NOT just the birth and death dates that will be etched in granite on my headstone one day hopefully many years from now. As far as I’m concerned, it looks like I’m KILLIN’ it!

This is probably one of THE most important messages I will ever drop in this Diary, so, thank you in advance to anyone who takes the time to listen to it. It’s as very long as actual dragon’s tail, because there was so much to say and no way to do it quickly.

If you or someone you know is struggling with a dragon of any kind, please get help immediately, and perhaps share the link to this entry. No one … and I mean NO ONE … deserves to walk this Earth alone while they’re slaying dragons. Don’t let those tragic voices inside your head sentence you to death. Pick up your sword and FIGHT!

As par for the course with my epic and beautiful journey, as I was literally making this video, a knucklehead sister of mine was “liking” a comment I’d written about one of Ivan‘s posts some time ago:

The purpose of a story is to be an axe that breaks up the ice within us. Ivan, my friend, the beautiful insanity in YOUR story is surely the axe that has not just broken the frozen tundra within in so many of us, but transformed it into the fire beneath our wings. Enjoy that view of all us crazies from your stage, Fucker, and keep on hacking away at all our ice.

Guess what, people?

Consider … Me … HACKED!

Am I still somewhat of a frozen tundra? You Jean-Claude Van DAMN betcha! But, you see, I’m NOT frozen anymore, and don’t think I ever really was. From what I now see as I look back on the wasteland I only thought was my younger self, the only thing that was “frozen” in me was my ability to speak the truth about the lies and farces I’d been perpetuating. As it turned out, I just needed to be transformed and risen and apostrophe I have become! It is now my truest prayer that my bittersweet tale of insanity and survival has already been an axe for some of you to begin breaking up any ice that may exist on your tundra.

By the way, how lucky am I to not have to wait until I’m dead to be a living, breathing embodiment of how “unfreezing” yourself and learning to REALLY live while you’re ALIVE is done? That’s kind of EPIC!

Oh, and by the way, I just cannot say enough how thankful I am that I’ve finally found the perfect place to use this song I’ve loved for well over half of my lifetime here in The Diary.

Two years ago this night, I made an entry entitled “Three Strikes And I’m In!” about what “this”, of all Fridays means to me. Well, since that night, not much has changed, other than to say that I’ve only grown stronger in my truly blind, if not ridiculous faith in Jesus.

Meanwhile, somewhere along the way, I stumbled upon this passage about the REAL “not so good” truth, but also, the REAL “OH, so GOOD truth” about “this” particular Friday, the author of whom is unknown to me. If, by the way, ANY of you out there seeing this right now do happen to know who wrote it, please message and let me know I can give them all due and proper credit:

He received 39 stripes because 40 was known to kill a man. They wanted him alive! They held handfuls of his beard, and hair and pulled it out by the roots. They wanted him alive! They kicked, punched, and spit on him for hours until there wasn’t a single spot on his body not covered in blood. They wanted him alive! They shoved a crown of thorns down on his head so harshly it stuck in his skin and skull. They wanted him alive! After hours of being beaten, mocked, whipped, flogged, and tortured, they made Him walk with a cross. They made Him carry it. A rough piece of wood with splinters digging into fresh wounds. They wanted him alive! They wanted Him to feel every ounce of pain they could bring. He HAD to feel it in order to heal us. Crucifixion was historically one of the cruelest most tortured deaths a human could face … hours upon hours of torture … torture most of us can not mentally think of because that kind of cruelty just isn’t normal and isn’t something our minds can comprehend. We celebrate Easter with pastel colors, happy children hunting eggs, and chocolate bunnies. The truth is that there was absolutely nothing happy about the day Jesus died. It was cruel, bloody, and nasty. He could have stopped all of it. He could have called every angel in Heaven to demolish every person standing and shouting “Crucify Him!” He didn’t. He knew that in order to have a Sunday, you have to have a Friday. He knew that in order to have joy, you have to carry your cross. He felt everything that day. He felt how your heart broke wide open when you had to watch your baby die. He felt how heavy your life was when you were staring down the barrel of a gun wondering if the man you call husband was going to shoot you. He carried the weight of the burden you have felt since your spouse died and life just doesn’t seem right anymore. On that cross, he held the rapists, murderers, sinners, and saints, leveling every playing field, and saying, “ALL of you are worth it!” He knew He had to carry the cross, but He never promised that the cross you’d have to carry in this life would not be heavy. HIS WASN’T! His promise is that Sunday is coming. No matter how heavy your Friday was today, be it financially, emotionally, mentally, or physically, such that the burden of that cross you bore all but crumbled and leveled you under its weight, His promise was simply this: He will never make you carry it alone. Now, tell me? What kind of king would step down from his throne for this? For me? For you? For this “humanity” we have become? Jesus of Nazareth, the Son of God did! He did every bit of it for you and me. Oh, yes, it’s SO heavy to carry the crosses in our life that we sometimes think we can’t even take one more step with. But look up, my friends … because Sunday is coming!

{Author Unknown}

Most Bible scholars, as well as most “Jesus For Dummies” like me, hold that on “this” Friday 1,993 days ago, the blameless king and only Son Of God stepped down from His throne to take 39 stripes, three nails, and a crown of thorns into His skull for those who would claim His name. Even as strong as I am in my walk, I’m still not ever really sure exactly where to begin with what to say about the conversation I’ve played in my head so many times with anyone who cares to listen. But I do know this:

Sunday is coming!

No, really wasn’t the nails that held Him on that tree … it was His love for me. Three strikes … I’m STILL in … He STILL reigns deep inside every fiber of my being … and “this” Friday is always going to be the very first day of the greatest love story of my life.

And yet another “On This Day” …

On this day in 2008, Canadian rockers, Theory Of A Deadman, released their “Scars & Souvenirs” album. On that album is a song of mine and Zack’s, the powerful words of which he’d spoken to me over the phone one night while I was away tucked at The Meadows having my nervous breakdown:

Now don’t you be afraid. We can always talk about it. No need to medicate, ’cause I know you’re strong without it. You got me through the days when I thought I couldn’t face it. Oh, let me count the ways. The love we have you can replace it. Just hold on … I’m not that strong. There’s a little piece of Heaven right here where you are. The fact that you keep trying is what sets you apart. Help me find the reason, and I’ll help you find the way to get rid of all your pain … little by little … day by day.

Bittersweet, poignant, and ironic, dontcha think, considering that he was the one who ended up not being strong enough to just hold on an stay. With that, I finally release these words into the atmosphere and back to him, only tweaked in my kinda way:

Now, you’re far away, and I’m alone to cry about it. It’s not a better place since you died and left me here to say: “Hold on … I was never that strong.” But I’ve gotten STRONGER, so, if you need me, I’m not far away. Now, I’ll just keep holding on, so I can help them find their way, ’cause there’s a little piece of Heaven right here where you were. The fact that I keep trying is what sets me apart! You helped me find the reason, so I can help them find the way to get rid of all their pain … little by little … day by day.

I love you, Zachariah.

~ Me

Those words are amongst my most treasured scars and souvenirs. Nope! No one ever DID say that this living gig was gonna be easy. Yup! I really HAVE gone through Hell on Earth too many times to count. Meanwhile, I’m just sitting here thinking that all of this pain suffering was, indeed, “the point”, because how would anyone ever really know what Heaven is unless they’ve been to hell?

I’m so honored to have been the one God chose to bear it all with the power and grace I wield. I guess He needed an apostrophe … not a semi-colon … because there is no easy way out of this, only the strongest survive, and He needed to use me to show my kids and this world how it’s done.

I’m here again … but NOT a thousand miles away from You. No, I can’t do this on my own (nor would I want to). Since I’ve seen Your face, I’ve known that I was Yours and found everything I thought I lost before. When You call my name, You make me into one whole piece in Your eye.

{“God’s Favorite Daughter“)

Meanwhile …

I’m STILL standing strong amidst a lifetime of shards and pieces that I suppose should have actually killed me by now, but instead, have only helped me find God’s face and voice within myself. I’ll never be broken and alone in silent darkness with all these shards and pieces again.

{“The Silent Pieces Of My Memories“}

Some years ago, an extremely powerful song was born from one of my favorite albums. That Said song has since become one of my utmost battle cries to the devil:

I’m gonna hit you right where it hurts. I’m gonna give you everything that you deserve. If you need attention … something to say … let’s hear your confession. I am just too hard to break! Your words are reckless … delusional! Inside you’re helpless … far from who you say you are. You try to push me over the edge. I won’t let you pull me down to your level again! And now you’re here to stare me down. And now you’re here to stand your ground. I’ll knock you down … I’ll drag you out … no mercy! How do you like it now?

Bring it! Bring it! I’m still right here undefeated! Say whatever you want … it really don’t mean anything.

Bring it! Bring it! If there’s no fear let me see it! There is nothing you got that will ever get to me!

Guess what, though? Today that song just became one of my utmost battle cries to myself. I didn’t let my anger get the best of me. I kicked my ego’s ass, rose above the hostile, albeit well-deserved feelings I have towards my husband’s THING of a “brother”, and remembered who ABOVE the hell I am! I’m the risen and reigning queen that the “Zack Of Shit” he couldn’t be bothered with left behind.

Very long, complicated, and sometimes ugly story short? Hey, Devil? I WIN! YOU LOSE! The same goes for you, “brother THING”! why don’t you hit me up whenever you need that hundred bucks. It’ll be waiting in my wallet! And by the way, not only is your police pants blue Porsche ASS ugly, you barely fucking fit in it, little big man. Lol! Something tells me that see you next Tuesday Meggy is the one that unfortunate decision for you, kinda like the even more unfortunate one she made for you to piss away your baby brother.

“I will not be forgotten! This is my time to shine! I’ve got the scars to prove it … only the strong survive! I’m not afraid of dying! Everyone has their time! Life never favored weakness!“

WELCOME TO THE PRIDE!

They say that perseverance will always lead to victory, and indeed I believe that’s true. Quite sadly, however, it is also true that life never has favored weakness, everyone does have their time, and (ps), you have to be willing to die! No, I’m not just talking about LITERALLY dying. I mean that sometimes you have to be willing to metaphorically die … to YOURSELF … by killing your ego.

The real trick is knowing what’s worth fighting for in the first place and knowing what TRUE victory looks like. Sometimes, LOSING is actually WINNING. See, that’s where the ego death comes into play. Some of the bloodiest battles and wars were started by man’s insufferable ego … and some of the most epic victories were found at the losing end of “man versus himself”. Remember:

Your ego wants you to win so you feel good about yourself. Yet it’s exactly the ego itself that’s sabotaging you from winning. The paradox… Killing the ego before it becomes big is a great way to sustain a happy life … because once it gets enough power, you’ll start to beat yourself up for small stuff. It’s a guaranteed way to cripple yourself.

(“Inside Out Mastery” by Mick De Boers)

Sounds complicated, right? Well, it doesn’t mean it isn’t true. If laying low in an almost perpetual state of rest to the point of appearing lazy is a good enough survival tactic on the pride lands, it’s good enough for all of us, too. A lion’s victories in war are only as good as the energy it’s conserved for only the most necessary of primal battles. So, too, is it with we human animals. Just sayin’!

“When in Rome“, we were fortunate to visit the remains of Pompei, the once thriving city that seems to have been eternally frozen in time by Mount Vesuvius in AD 79. It was ethereal!

After the tour, we visited the nearby Cellini Gallery, where I scored this bauble made from Mount Vesuvius lava. Fashioned from the Her core, not only do these beads ground me back to Mother Earth herself, but with my ancestral roots that trace back to right there in Southern Italy, even more so do they connect me to the ancient mariners who came before me:

They’re the pirates who came before me and the zephyrs in my sky who forged this path and built this mountain for me to stand on as they push me into the perpetual state of punctuation and magic I’ve become as I navigate this sea of madness. In the meantime, as I continue to soar through these golden years of mine, “I’ll be wearing steel that’s bright and true and carrying the news that must get through!

{“My Perfectly Mistaken Quarters“}

Look closer at my bracelet, and you’ll see a little charm. Our time there was over and I was supposed to be heading to the bus, so, I rushed through my purchase and didn’t notice it until I returned home. Truth being told, because I’m half blind without my glasses, and also because I’m not typically a fan of jewelry with “little charms”, it wasn’t until I was literally standing in my closet about to snip it off that I realized what it was. It was a teeny, tiny anchor, and yet another reminder that He’s with me eternally in my storms, just as I know He was with those of “my people” who were buried in those ashes.

Going forward, I’ll wear this bracelet proudly in honor of having walked in the footsteps of those who perished in those ashes for me, as I scream these epic “I WIN! YOU LOSE!” words to that Godforsaken devil in my mind:

Only time would hold the answer of how their season turned. They stayed there bleeding, suffering, burning deeper, then finally sinking under. Oh, how they fought to survive so that I would never break! So, you pulled me under with your lies and watched me breaking underneath, but I hid away that darkness in the Light that burns now deeper in me. You never knew who I was, because you NEVER held the key: They lived, then they died, and from their ashes I’ve ignited so they’ll NEVER fade away!

{“From The Ashes” … Words Adapted}

Yes, Miss Maggie (may you truly be resting in peace), you really nailed this one on the head! For all those times I’ve ever wondered if anyone really “see me” (especially my babies), all it took was a few truly impeccable words to drive those silly doubts out of the darkness my mind still occasionally wanders through. Even her Dad is “seeing” how hard I’m working to cultivate a bright future for our masterpiece.

Don’t get me wrong, folks. I don’t do things for anyone from a selfish place. The altruistic soul my skin adorns refuses to give of myself for personal gain. I do what I do for the people in my halo (and sometimes even strangers) from a place of unbridled love and passion for pebble-skipping and wave-making, regardless of whether I’ll ever see the tsunami of fruit from the gifts of my heart and hands. I truly don’t need to be “seen, heard, or appreciated”. It literally sets my soul on fire to at least try to make all the people, places, and things I’ve touched better than I found them, and that feeling is reward enough for me … BUT … I’m not gonna lie, folks … I don’t hate it, either!

With that, I am blasted right back to the past to one of my favorite “oldies but goodies”, Circa 1999, which I am now blasting back out to my babies, my God, and even myself:

Hey, look at me, living life for you. When it’s good. When it’s hard. You know me. You know my heart. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I give up anything at all when You call. All I know … it’s worth it all!

{Michael W. Smith}

Make it a powerful Monday, friends! If there’s someone in YOUR life whose works and deeds have made it better, but perhaps you haven’t told them yet, SAY THE WORDS that tell them.

Solomon once wrote:

Better is open rebuke than hidden love.

{PROVERBS 27:5-6}

With that, perhaps we should consider “the words” to a song that may be an oldie, but it’s still a damn goodie, that I listen to all the time:

Silence is golden but these are the words that the world needs to hear. Terms of compassion will cause a reaction as love drives them near. But still we choose to hide behind the face of pride, pretending we are blind to the calling. This is my point and case, if hate can be erased with such a simple phrase, why are we stalling? 

Some just assume we already know of the love that they feel. Some have a heartfelt emotion, but never the words to reveal. I think we all relate, so why are we afraid to let our hearts convey what we’re feeling? There is a world in need with hungry souls to feed, and love can intercede if we’re willing.

So, say the words, say the words, say “I love you”. Say the words I long to hear. Say the words, say the words, say “I love you”. Say the words I long to hear.  Ya gotta say it. Ya gotta say it. SAY IT!

{DC Talk}

By the way, “saying the words” doesn’t just apply to romantic partners. It means speaking words of love, kindness, and caring that your children and even friends or strangers may need to hear. Don’t just assume that your people know the beautiful things you feel for them in your heart. I mean, let’s face it … NONE OF US ARE MIND-READERS! Also, there are many people in this world, and maybe even some of your people, whose love language is words of affirmation. Meaning, the only way they really “hear” the words “I love you” is by really hearing the words “I love you.”

Do they make you smile when they walk into the room? Does their smile brighten the darkest of spaces? Do they inspire you? Encourage you? Make you want to be a better person? Do they make everything about your existence in what can seem like a dreadful existence more enjoyable, comfortable, and “worth it all”? TELL THEM! Tell them they’re beautiful! Tell them they’re smart! Tell them you have faith in them, that your proud of them, and proud to even know them!

I can end life. I can give life. I bring truth. I bring lies. I am heard … but not seen. Who am I? I AM WORDS!

(“Little Toy Guns“)

My valentine may be elsewhere now, but I will revel in all the sweet words I’ll share with all my valentines on Earth today … not the least of which is the very recently broken, not so golden silence between me and my Dad. These texts between he and I may seem a bit silly to the rest of the world, but to me, they are my case in point that hate really can be erased by SAYING THE WORDS!

Always remember that every word you speak into someone’s ears or The Cosmos itself can either sow a garden or destroy a crop. So, yes, SAY THE WORDS, but make them extraordinary and IMPECCABLE!

Lastly, and on a side note, I don’t know who needs to hear this right now, but it is my truest prayer that everyone reading this either has already or will someday soon attract a “Naked Partner” who speaks the love language of your heart so that you don’t have to spend what is often an entirely fruitless lifetime trying to interpret, decode, translate, and explain the language of your soul.

Dear Younger Me,

With everything happening today, you don’t know whether you’re coming or going, but you think that you’re on your way. Life lined up on the mirror … don’t blow it. Look at me when I’m talkin’ to you! You looking at me – but I’m lookin’ through you. I see the blood in your eyes. I see the love in disguise. I see the pain hidden in your pride. I see you’re not satisfied, and I don’t see nobody else. I see myself. I’m looking at the mirror on the wall. Here we are again. Through my rise and fall, you’ve been my only friend. You told me that they can’t understand the man I am. So, why are we here talkin’ to each other again?

Uh, I see the truth in your lies. I see nobody by your side. But I’m with you when you’re all alone, and you correct me when I’m lookin’ wrong. I see that guilt beneath the shame. I see your soul through your window pane. I see the scars that remain. I see YOU! I’m looking at the mirror on the wall. Here we are again. Through my rise and fall, you’ve been my only friend. You told me that they can’t understand the man I am. So, why are we here talkin’ to each other again?

Lookin at me now I can see my past. Damn, I look just like my f-ckin dad. Light it up, that smoke and mirrors. I even look good in the broken mirror. I see my momma smile … thats a blessin’. I see the change. I see the message, and no message could been any clearer, so, I’m startin’ with the man in the mirror on the wall.

(‘Lil Wayne ft. Bruno Mars)

So, why am I here talking to you again? Oh, wait! I KNOw! It’s because I need to remind you of how far you’re gonna rise above all the bullshit on your driveway and the childhood that started piling it there in the first place. Right now, it’s hard to see yourself through all the cracks and smoke swirling around “you” as you’re gazing into the looking glass, but you’re gonna be alright. You’re a queen rising to her own reflection!

I LOVE YOU, ME!

I’ll be waiting for you in front of the mirror. When that day finally comes that you’re ready to see and accept yourself as the EPIC favorite daughter of God and royalty on Earth you truly are, we’re gonna turn some shit upside down and make epic things happen together until our NOT so bitter end!

~ Me

… that moment you’re in the middle of what should have been a happy family text about the first-class, luxury vacation he had offered to send us all away on, but instead, you are cold-cocked in the face with the reality that it wasn’t just “dear ole Dad” who was the primary poisoner and “root cause” of the damage to your family tree. I mean, I’d always known that she, too, played her part in our family’s disintegration, but it wasn’t until tonight that I really understood the depth of that damage:

Mom, I’m going to say something and then shut my phone off for the day because I am REALLY upset about what you just did to Dad on that “family text”. It triggered me back to my childhood AND early adulthood when you would constantly say things like: “Just stop feeling sorry for yourself.” “Other people have it worse than you.” “There are children STARVING in Biafra.” “Think about all the people who have no arms and legs.” “You should be ashamed of yourself for all that self-pity.”

No more! It’s gross! It was emotionally abusive, invalidating, ABUSIVE, and a good part of the reason I started torturing myself both mentally and physically because I couldn’t just “be grateful enough” to NOT be devastated by all the REAL trauma I have gone through. You sent a subliminal message to me that I wasn’t allowed to “feel too bad” about ANYTHING because “others had it worse”. Meanwhile, you have ALSO been doing that to Dad literally ALL the years I can remember, and I can’t even begin to count all the times I heard you tell HIM: “Oh, stop feeling sorry for yourself! Just look at your beautiful family.” Trauma shaming and trauma comparing are cruel, Mom. Can’t you understand that?

Yes, I know that we have ALL had “beautiful houses, cars, clothes, and plenty of food to eat”, but that doesn’t erase all the HELL some of us have been through. That includes Dad, too. How would YOU like it if EVERY single time you let us know how badly your RA is making you feel, we said, “Just get the fuck over yourself, mom! There are children starving in Africa!” Does the fact that there are, indeed, “starving, homeless, sick people in the world” change the fact that your illness REALLY does make your body ache? No, it doesn’t! Both things can be true at the same time.

What upsets me the most about that text this morning is that here he FINALLY is after all these years REALLY trying to do something nice for this family, but you had to go and bitch slap him and shame him that way – AND – it was for NOTHING – because he wasn’t being self-pitiful, he was making a JOKE! That was pretty gross, mom. You should probably think about that for a minute. What the hell is wrong with you? “Virtue signaling” is a sign of narcissism, you do know that, right? From now on, when you tell us ANYTHING about your disease, we should all accuse you of self-pity? No! No, we shouldn’t.

Please don’t do that to ANY of us anymore. We’ve all had about enough of your “holier than thought” GUILTING and SHAMING us for having REAL feelings for our various trips to “hell”. It caused me a lot of psychological damage over the years, and probably Dad, too. IT’S ENOUGH!

I think I’ve finally had enough of this! I didn’t come this far to have to keep on choking and burning on ashes I never asked to rise above. For God’s sake, people, it really isn’t a competition, and YES, we’ve ALL been broken. Haven’t we suffered enough yet? It’s time to heal? Can’t we all just lay down the guns and calm this fire that never seems to stop burning? Even a phoenix has its limits and gets tired of choking on ashes!

CALM THE FIRE

Calm the fire. Do not fight anymore. They don’t know what they’re saying. They don’t know anything at all. For all that matters is you know that this is not their fault. There are places we should never go. Lost between the cracks something wicked waits below, and all I’m saying there are some things better left unseen at all. It’s been so long, it’s tearing me apart. I cannot understand or comprehend where we went wrong. Now we’ve come so far … the madness in our hearts will never end … ’cause I’ve seen it all. I can’t fight it anymore. If fire burns forevermore, is there nothing left to save, ’cause now more than ever, what we need is love to replace all the obscene. Something good, and something beautiful. If only we could see that now more than ever what we need is a little love. Is there no more? Have we gone too far? There’s nothing I can do to make you sway … to see the blood running through our hearts … no different from the blood we’ve come to hate. (Alter Bridge)