FIVE. That’s the number of Father’s Days we’ve had to celebrate without out you, Superman. But then, FIVE! (Oh, yah, in case you missed the memo, he’s “Five” by order of appearance in my halo as a child of either my blood or my heart. Meanwhile … HONEY? Are you watching this through your telescope from the other side of the stars? Have you seen this young KING who has shown up in our family picture?
Imagine my surprise when this text came in yesterday while I was out showing houses. While at first glance, my heart wanted to fall through my stomach, instead it only swelled. I mean, how many times did you send me flowers for absolutely no reason at all, but even more so when I’d been out working even though you said I didn’t have to?
“Thank you”. Just “thank you”, he said. Lol. He has no idea how to show his appreciation to me? This young man who we literally never saw coming has been such a driving force in both her and my life already, and I’m hoping that you approve. Wait! No! I KNOW YOU WOULD! Actually? Now that I think of it, there’s a song I recently heard that I had intended to blog to Christian, but instead, I’m blogging it to both him and the kid by tweaking the words my way:
It’s funny how a little plus sign can change your life overnight … even when it belongs to another mother … and turn a boy into a man … and how hearts so big fit inside small Superman-caped wrecking balls who eventually grow into an extremely brave men with no fear at all!
To My Number One:
I hope you love with all you’ve got and never try to be something you’re not … always a fighter, dreamer, survivor! Heart full of fire, keep looking them in thеir eyes when you shakе their hand, “Sir” and “Ma’am”. Understand God’s got a plan for you and I hope you know you’re grow up to be the man I always knew you could be. I tried not to blink too long, but before I knew it, you’ve gone and fallen for another and I’m okay with it, ’cause guess what? SO HAVE I! Before you take somebody’s little girl away and ask her hand, take a knee and say:
I wanna love you with all I got … never try to be something I’m not … always a fighter, giver, provider. Heart full of fire, look you in your eyes as we both stand, like God planned, slip that band on your left-hand and promise you that I’ll always try to be the man you see in me!
To My Number Five:
I hope you love with all you’ve got and never try to be something you’re not … always a fighter, dreamer, survivor! Heart full of fire, keep looking them in thеir eyes when you shakе their hand, “Sir” and “Ma’am”. Understand God’s got a plan for you. Although I may not have given birth to you, or seen you during your “Superman-caped” wrecking ball days, as a mother, I am so damn proud of the man you are becoming and am certain your own mother must be, too. Some day I truly look forward meeting the woman whose plus sign you belonged to. Only time will tell what the future has in store for you and my girl, but in the meantime, I’m so thankful you’re in my halo! Both her dads must be, too!
Do not let this thing you got go to waste. Do not let your heart be dismayed. It’s here by some random disclosure of grace from some vascular Great Thing. Do not let this thing you got go to waste. The pain and the beauty, so strange. Get the FUCK out of your head if it says, “Stay cold and be deathly afraid.” Do not let your spirit wane! Do not let your spirit wane!
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.
It’s that double-headed little beast on your shoulder that’s constantly looking for a stronger sense of identity by feeding our superiority. The ego cannot tolerate inferiority, because it feeds off of the pain that comes with our insecurities. It never feels like it’s enough, so, it’s constantly trying to add to its sense of self to feel superior.
So, with that …
Stop waiting on your fifteen minutes of fame, ’cause you’re not special. I’m not trying to rain on your parade, but you’re not special. I’m not trying to bring you down. I’m not trying to sound so ineffectual … but you’re not special!
Okay, people … CALM YOUR TITS … because, also? You’re INCREDIBLY fucking special, but the only way to ever truly reach your “I’M SO SPECIAL” potential is by first realizing that you’re NOT! Didja catch that?
Try not to take things so personally all the time and consuming yourself with what others may be thinking, saying, or judging about you. Chances are high that most everyone is just living in their own very special and also NOT THAT SPECIAL moments on this big, blue, EPIC marble we call home!
Ego death is a “complete loss of subjective self-identity”. The term is used in various intertwined contexts, with related meanings. Jungian psychology uses the synonymous term psychic death, referring to a fundamental transformation of the psyche. In death and rebirth mythology, ego death is a phase of self-surrender and transition, as described by Joseph Campbell in his research on the mythology of the Hero’s Journey. It is a recurrent theme in world mythology and is also used as a metaphor in some strands of contemporary western thinking.
Trust me when I tell you that mine is still in Rigor mortis … BUT … the stiffer it gets as it’s heading 6 feet under, the freer, happier, and more connected I’ve become to myself and this “EVERYTHING” I’m securely UNattached to. As a result, my sense of self no longer feels more distinct or “special” than anyone else’s. Meaning? I’VE GOTTEN THE FUCK OVER MYSELF! Meanwhile, I also feel deeply and intrinsically connected to both the Universe and humanity, which is ALSO paradoxical since I’m blissfully alone (but not “lonely”) and at peace literally 99.9% of the time.
And so, with that …
“Hurry up before you go and get old. Hurry up before your blood runs cold. None of us were ever meant to stay. We’re all gonna find out one day. You see, life’s too short to run it like a race. So, it’s never gonna matter if you win first place, ’cause we’re all the same. Stop waiting on your fifteen minutes of fame, ’cause you’re not special. I’m not trying to rain on your parade, but you’re not special. I’m not trying to bring you down. I’m not trying to sound so ineffectual … but you’re not special.”
God removes people from your life because He heard conversations you didn’t.
NOTHING could be further from the truth! When I say I have someone’s six, it actually does mean I have their entire clock, so, there’s no need for them to ever look back and see if I’m there. I’m EXACTLY where I said I’d be! With that, and in honor of “National Friend Day 2024“, lemme just say THIS:
That’s right, “friend” … I SEE YOU and I FELT THAT! I may be DUMB but I ain’t no STUPE! So, if you weren’t in it to win it with me EVEN when my soil was rotting and infested with worms and disease ridden fruit that looked and smelled like a vampire’s asshole, then get your fuckin’ paws out my tree!
That’s right, you heard me! At this point in my journey, I have no time or space for fair weather friends and “family” in my atmosphere. So, if you ducked and ran when the storms of my life were raging, don’t you dare try coming back around when the Sun is burning and shining for me again! As far as I’m concerned, “got your six” people aren’t just those who’ve protected your name in your absence. They’re also those who were there for you when it wasn’t exactly convenient or optimal.
The bottom line is THIS …
Do right by your people, troops, even when no one is looking. It’s called integrity, and your word should be your bond. “I got you!” should mean I GOT YOU! Period. THE END!
A long day alone. The emptiness is so real. Never having peace of mind. Running from what I can’t see. And there is nowhere left to hide. Turn and face these empty eyes all alone. I try to find myself. I find the stranger trapped inside and I take one more step away from a face I used to recognize. Familiar shadows closing in. A Suffocating fear descends.
{The Band RED}
Happy 18th Birthday to yet another one of the most powerful songs of my life by one of favorite bands, “The Band RED“. Lol! You’re officially an adult now!
Look, if I’ve learned anything thus far, it’s that even those who are surrounded by people who love them and aren’t fighting “all alone” can slip to the darkness of a void there’s no easy way out of. Hello? Do you KNOW what happened to my husband? Although he walked alone for the majority of his life, in the end he was, indeed, surrounded by a handful of us who tried desperately to keep him from losing himself in that Godforsaken shattered mirror where he saw “nothing”:
I finally broke and my mind came undone. My body gave way as I hit the floor. My heart shattered. I lacked the strength to even pick up these pieces as they spilled across the floor while they looked at me in disapproval for the “mess” and inconvenience I made for them, but I gathered them up none the less as the whip cracked and scarred my back pushing me begrudgingly forward. I didn’t know what to do with what was left of me. I had never come this far apart. I was just a little [boy]. I just wanted to give up. Lay down. You know the rest. There is a crack deep in my soul that is still healing, but some days I feel as though it is only getting bigger. I thought I would never be strong enough to stand on my own and finally get my “shit” together. Could I find enough love for myself to make these jagged pieces worth putting together? I have looked to find strength in so many ”things” because I feel it is not within me, but deep down inside I know it is there. One day soon I will gather up these pieces again. Fit them together the way they are supposed to go. These shards will become my strength. My protection. My weapons against further abuses of my worth and love. The strength is gathering within me – I’m not little anymore! They shoved me on to the path of adulthood and I will show those who have wronged me my wrath, which will only be overshadowed by the ferocity of my love that is and was the best thing they will never have known. I spent so much time seeking their approval, when it was MY approval and favor, they should have been looking for all along.
Meanwhile … HAVE YOU? Have you ever had to pull YOURSELF out of YOURSELF all alone? Been there! Done that! Got the tattered proverbial straight jacket to prove it! That shit AIN’T for the faint of heart, my friends, and ONLY the strong survive a knock down, drag out, bloody battle in a ring going toe to toe with “themselves“. In the end, the best that any of us can can hope for is the strength to be strong alone, because no matter how many people we do or don’t have at our six, NO ONE can keep you from getting lost in a mirror but YOU!
Remember …
Behind every badass Spartan out there, there’s a story that gave them NO other choice but to learn the EPIC and DYING art of SOLO survival. Just think about everything your “cave people” went through and faced while they battled through untold triumphs just long enough to create the YOU! You are risen from their ashes, my friend. Don’t you EVER forget that! Whether you believe it or not, there truly are “solo survivors” in your very own bloodline looking back at you when you stand in that mirror!
So, with that, if you “woke up and broke it down” today … or EVER in your life … YES, I am SO fucking proud of you! Spartan on, my friends. Your victory is not in vein and trust me when I tell that someone out there has watched you rise after a fall and thought to themselves: “If they can do it, I CAN DO IT!”
Wow! Just WOW! Who woulda ever thunk that there would ever be such a thing as “National Mind Your Own Business Day“? Lol. Go figure! Guess what, my friends? THAT’S the kinda business that I’m TOTALLY down with minding!
Love me or hate me, since I’m only here to keep it REAL, you can just mind your biz … I can just mind mine, and never the twixt shall meet! This is, after all, my life, and your life is very much yours, so, umm …
… and then, just like that, the Sun did set on my my almost 25 years as a school-daze mom:
Where did all the time go? Can someone tell me, PLEASE? Wasn’t it, like, just five minutes ago that we were dropping her off to her very first day of school with a silly, toothless smile on her face, a giant bow in her hair, and a backpack that was all but bigger than she was? I’m not gonna lie, folks, it was a bittersweet moment pulling into the parking lot and stepping onto that field to watch the “sun rise” on her first day as a senior in high school without the man who was primarily responsible for making this all happen for her, and an even longer drive home and agonizing day that followed. Yes, I spent a full 24 hours, if not more, in a flood of tears. Meanwhile, and with this, we begin the excruciatingly short 285-day long journey to the sunset of her graduation. Ugh.
… and you can’t fight the tears that ain’t coming, or the moment of truth in your lies. So, when everything feels like the movies, yeah, you bleed just to know you’re alive.
Listen, I dunno who needs to hear this right now, but pain really does demand to be felt, and dare I say that internalized pain that doesn’t hurt you anymore is actually dangerous. So, if you’re that child in a long line of family people who either refused to feel a thing and chose to avoid dealing with that gift that just kept on fucking giving, KNOW THIS:
But none of them were ever gonna heal from it unless someone finally faced and ROSE from it, and that, my fellow black sheep, was YOU validating the realities that no one wanted to talk about. You CANNOT move on from all that generationally gifted pain until you face, FEEL, and overcome the gauntlet of emotions and friction you WILL endure as go through this journey to freedom.
PAIN
You’re sick of feeling numb. You’re not the only one. I’ll take you by the hand and I’ll show you a world that you can understand. This life is filled with hurt when happiness doesn’t work. Trust me and take my hand. When the lights go out, you’ll understand. Anger and agony are better than misery. Trust me, I’ve got a plan. When the lights go up, you’ll understand. I know that you’re wounded. You know I’m always here for you. I know that you’ll thank me later Pain, without love. Pain, I can’t get enough. Pain, I like it rough, ’cause I’d rather feel pain than nothing at all. (Three Days Grace)
She walks through the city. No one recognizes her face. They don’t want her pity. No one ever mentions her name. She’s carried the broken, but their scars have no name in her heart, ’cause she walks in forgiveness. She’ll shine like a light in the dark.
She’ll always remember the days when they welcomed her here. They know if they need her. She made a promise to always be here.
When they are weak she will always be strong. Though they don’t know it, they’re never alone. No matter how many times they may leave, it’s never hopeless, ’cause she still believes.
She is love.
🎶
She’s the whisper of the leaves when you walk down the street, the smell of certain foods you remember, every flower you pick, and the fragrance of life itself. She’s the hand on your brow when you’re not feeling well and your breath in the air on a winter’s day. She’s the sound of the rain that lulls you to sleep, the colors of a rainbow, and the heartbeat of Christmas morning. She’s the place you came from, your very first home, and the map you follow with every step you take. She’s your first love, your first friend, even your first enemy, but nothing on earth can separate you. Not time, not space… not even death. She is always with you. She’s your Mother. She is Love.
Pray God, I am someone’s “She”. I was blessed, honored, and privileged to be someone’s Mother. But you see, not a Mother’s Day has passed since the first one I celebrated with Zachariah in my halo that hasn’t been met with an abundance of joy and gratitude for having been blessed enough to be their “She”, but as well a deep and aching sadness. Not everyone has a “She” propelling the wings of their flight:
As with every Mother’s Day I’ve since had to or will ever spend without him, today is so twisted and bittersweet. On one hand, I am privileged to celebrate not just the gift of my motherhood, but the gifts of my mother beautiful Mother and angel Grandmother as well, it was on this day in May 2019 when he started coming apart at the seams. For that reason, this day will always be a rollercoaster of deep joy and intense sadness for me. He had just gone up to say goodbye to Gia before heading off to work that morning. As he made it to that last step on the way back down, he just stopped there dead in his tracks and started sobbing, much like the day at the kitchen window a few months before. When I asked him what was wrong, the words he spoke were all but paralyzing:
“That whore that gave birth to me just threw me the fuck away. My own mother didn’t want me. She never did. She never will. I really AM a Zack Of Shit!“
Nine years ago today ago, the Dallas County Bureau Of Vital Records finally issued my husband’s Court Ordered Delayed Certificate Of Birth since his “parents” could be bothered to memorialize his birthday legally:
In case you didn’t know by now, my husband’s childhood was less than optimal. His mother all but threw him away beginning the day he was born, then walked left him for good 18 months later, because, I suppose, he wasn’t as “stellar” as his older three siblings who were good enough for her to stick around for. It was only ever him she didn’t want, and trust me when I tell you, it’s been a sobering truth reality for him to wake up to every day. Keep in mind also that almost from the onset of meeting him, and especially once we got married, I’d been asking (if not begging) for the “family” he was left with after “the thing that gave birth to him” kicked him to the curb to please find some pictures of him as a child. Even one. JUST ONE? Does anyone have even ONE picture of this man from his childhood? But I’ve digressed.
With that in mind, here are a few things for all you parents out there to think about, and even all you hands-on aunts, uncles, and primary caregivers. Remember, it’s not just those of us who have procreated who can have seriously positive and life changing impacts on the little people standing in our halo (or toxic and malignant ones).
Are you painting your self-portrait small with just a tiny “here and now” brush, or are you creating an EPIC masterpiece with MUCH broader strokes that even your grandkids’ grandkids will treasure? Are you living out loud with power, grace, passion, and purpose? Your children and THEIR children will reap EXACTLY what you sow, so, SHOW THEM everything you TELL THEM! And (ps), don’t forget to keep a journal or keepsake memorializing all the memories and highlights so you don’t leave your “here and now” as mystery or subject for debate. Leave your fingerprints on everything (but hopefully not bloody ones like the ones my husband’s “parents” left all over him and my “father” is leaving all over us.
But more so than anything …
Be honest with your kids. Talk to them. Spend time with them. Share what’s in your heart of hearts, what you stand for, and what you believe in (but don’t shove it down their throats). Let them know it’s okay, if not encouraged, to take a different path than you. Let them know that you DON’T want them to be your “mini-me”, but rather, “the first of THEM“.
In the meantime …
To My Kids:
Please know how hard I’m really trying to change the crooked trajectory of this family tree. Yes, I very much do want you to find new and different paths of your own and not be “mini-me’s”. I want you to be the first and the last of both of you and brave enough to CHOOSE happiness. More so than anything, I hope someday when the time has come, you’ll listed to this song and think of me, but know also that when I hear it now, I think of both of you. You’re not just my legacy … you’re the LIVING love letters I never want to stop reading while I’m still here with you. Remember that …
LEGACY
Won’t you walk with me ’til both of our feet bleed? Won’t you walk with me through the blindness we can see? If I set you free, will you promise me I will see you again? I will walk with you ’til both of our feet bleed. ‘Cause we are one … we run free … I am you and you are me. You sacrificed everything. I am and will always be your legacy. I will dance with you ’til the shadows slip away. I will lay my hands on you to ease your pain. I will sing to you, I will guide you for everything. Won’t you dance with me till the shadows slip away? We are one … we run free … I am you and you are me. You sacrificed everything. I am and will always be your legacy. I promise I will see you again. I will find you on the other side. {In This Moment}
When you wish to lead an orchestra, you must be willing to turn your back on the crowd.
{Max Lucado}
Dear Younger Me,
In order to be a leader, a game-changer , and a cycle-breaker, you HAVE to be willing to ignore the popular opinions of not just society, but your friends, family, and loved ones, as well. As long as the compilation you’re making is in ultimate best interest of all, wield that baton like it’s the most precious thing you own.
It’s gonna take courage to run against the crowd, swim into the current, and sit alone atop your mountain when the truths you eventually speak seem so flawed and tragic to everyone else. In the meantime, don’t worry about what the people in the crowd are saying about your unchained melody. I mean, DUH! That’s why they’re SITTING behind you!
I know you never asked for the responsibility of leading this orchestra that has become your life, but as a rising queen, it truly is your bounded duty. I love you, Catherine Williamson! You got this!
~ The YOU You Will Become!
(ps)
This Diary entry is in honor of the late Queen Elizabeth’s birthday today.
Quite thankfully, NO, the “broken and despondent angel on her knees” in this picture is NOT who I am, yet, in so many ways, she was in the way long days gone by. Then? I started counting my blessings instead of my scars.
Meanwhile, everyone’s gotta pick and choose the battle cry “fight words” that fit them best, right? Especially in that, for the most part, we are what we “believe, say, think, and manifest” ourselves to be. And by “for the most part”, I mean to make WOEFULLY clear that despite the fact that yes, there are people in this world who REALLY take that literally, NO, it doesn’t ALWAYS quite work that way:
I believe, say, think, and manifest myself to be an orangutan driving a Bentley across the water.
💥POOF!💥
So, how’s THAT working for ya? I’m guessing that you have NOT just transformed into a primate with a really pimp ride on skis just a Jesus-ing your way across the Sea Of Galilee?
… BUT …
All in all its a good life, I got what I want … I can’t complain!
Now, those are some words you can “believe, say, think, and manifest” right this minute … no matter what, every day! See how that works? Gotta love it, and all these often EPIC amounts of bullshittery and SHAM PAIN moments living amongst sometimes not so “human-ity” here on Earth!
By the way, if you ARE gonna try and manifest yourself into an animal, maybe DON’T make it an orangutan. While they are, indeed, HIGHLY intelligent, ALWAYS smiling, incredibly majestic and important creatures, eating with your feet just CANNOT be that fun all the time. Ya know what I’m sayin’? Oh, and one LAST but certainly not LEAST thing:
In honor of this first day of Prevention Of Cruelty To Animals Month 2024, can I just say that if, indeed, this “Indian legend” is true, how much it’s gonna SUCK for a certain someone I know who I grew up watching literally kick our family pets in the ribs across the kennels he kept them in at the WAY far corners of our family properties every time he went to feed them and they’d jump up happily to greet him because they didn’t know he was abusing them. They were just so fucking happy to see him every day after having been sequestered out there all alone, even in the ice and snow. That being said, I’m guessing there’s not gonna be a “bridge” to where he’s going … justa piping hot “slide” down!
Wait!
WHAT?
Meanwhile, the bottom line is THIS: I don’t give two FUCKS about your job title, “social status”, your house, your car, or what you have in checking and savings. How a person treat animals tells me everything I’ll ever need to know about them! PERIOD!
Once upon a time, in a land so far away, a very confused girl had a question for her Father. You see, she’d been looking in the mirror at a mind made up that her pain would last forever. He was heading for a heart that was all closed up, so He asked her: “Will you ever open up?” She said, “NEVER”! What is the secret to keeping my head in Your promises?”
Then she just kept staring at the sky wondering why the night wasn’t telling her to believe Him. “If He could only read the pages of my heart. How can I learn the secret to keeping my head in His promises?”
HE SAID:
I’ll mend your broken heart under one condition. If I let you in, you’ll never push me out. Darling, under one condition. This is my one … this is my one condition.
On this day in 2012, Shinedown released the album that gave birth to what I believe is one of their most poignant songs of all, “Amaryllis”, which I’ve diaried here once before:
I’m a divinely punctuated queen who is abundantly aware of her risen reflection in every mirror. The girl who once waged war with herself and her many wounds, now brings flowers to her scars instead! … If you DON’T have someone special in your life, take 20 minutes today to get YOURSELF some flowers! Having a healthy, loving, forgiving, and unconditional relationship with YOU is the first step to becoming living royalty. Meanwhile, this song was particularly special one for Zack and me, because when we met, we were both an “amaryllis”.
Bukowski was right. Creation truly is a solitary act. Just ask the Queen Of The Night, the exquisitely beautiful “mystery girl” who blooms alone but once a year in the dark. In order to make her coveted appearance, she must first be exposed to frigid temperatures, but not before being induced to dormancy. This process, of course, requires not just her, but those who love and care for her to be patient. But, alas … when she’s ready, she’ll unfurl her petals and stand strong and tall amid the solitude of her own weed-free and healthy soil.
Epectitus once said,
The trials you face will introduce you to your strengths.
Yes, my reign here in The Queendom has required an immense amount of time alone as I’ve been lovingly, carefully, diligently, patiently, and often thanklessly tending to the avant garden I started planting with the conception of my firstborn “bulb“. I wouldn’t have had it any other way! This self-imposed “isolation” of sorts has been preparing me. Sharpening me. EMBRACING ME! This true creation of mine has had to be a solitary act, lest I have failed to ever know who I really am and what I was truly capable of “widowed” and apart from the crowd or as someone’s “better half“. All of my most beautiful petals have unfurled in the darkness while no one ever really knew what was going on inside my “disrespectfully private”, if not reclusive world.
AMARYLLIS
In a while now I will feel better, I’ll face the weather before me. In a while now I’ll race the irony and buy back each word of my eulogy. All the uninvited tragedies. Step outside. Ask yourself now where would you be without days like this when you finally collide with the moment you can’t forget. So, do I remind you of someone you never met? A lonely silhouette? And do I remind you of somewhere you wanna be? So far out of reach. Oh, I wish you’d open up for me ’cause I wanna know you. Amaryllis. Bloom. Stay a while now. Undress your colors ’cause they’re like no others I’ve ever seen. I could get used to your company. Step inside. Ask yourself now where would you be without days like this when you finally collide with emotions you can’t resist? {Shinedown}
No man is more unhappy than he who never faces adversity. For he is not permitted to prove himself.
~ Seneca ~
⚔️
Adversity
Challenge
Abrasion
Grating
Rasping
Grating
Chafing
Resistance
Pressure
FRICTION
⚔️
Guess what has to happen in order for you to grow, people? FRICTION! No matter what you call all the little cluster fucks that happen in your life, they are happening to make you stronger, better fortified, and more resilient! With that, and since I was originally going to date this post for “the day” between “National Diamond Day” and “National Sword Day”, but couldn’t find find a date for either, here I am ROCKING this on “National JEWEL Day” today, instead! Lol. Didja catch that? “Rock”! Yes, that pun was intended!
Meanwhile, let’s take a minute to think about all the shit that’s gone wrong for you. Chances are you either learned, changed, fixed, developed, or maybe even LOST something that’s given you an entire new perspective, set of skills, and better yet … APPRECIATION for what you DO have as a result.
It’s we been statistically proven since the dawn of mankind that those who’ve endured extreme amounts of friction in their life are happier, more fulfilled, and at peace. I mean, HELLO? Have you MET me? I’m a 100 carat, D-Flawless diamond of epic proportion with light literally SCREAMING through every facet etched into my soul while I was CARBON being crystallized by pressure, heat, and FRICTION!
Being a piece of coal subjected to unfathomable pressure and temperatures for upwards of 3 billion years is hard, but not becoming the diamond you were intended to become, is an actual living tragedy. DO THE HARD STUFF MY FRIENDS, because sometimes the easy way out can actually cost you EVERYTHING! Hmm. Now that I think of it, maybe this is why I’ve always been FASCINATED by diamonds. They’re tactile proof that behind most every beautiful thing were unspeakable amounts of pain, pressure, and toil. As it turns out, I was a fuckin’ 5 carat, D-color, FLAWLESS and PRICELESS solitaire all along, it just took me a long HOT minute to figure it out!
Lol. Why do you think I love my diamonds so much? (HINT: It’s NOT because I’m trying to flaunt my wealth!) I have adored them since I was just a little girl with no idea of their value, literally or metaphorically, and been wearing the ever loving SHINE out of them even when I was sleeping on a pull out in a one bedroom with my Frog Prince of a husband who eventually had me dripping in them.
Oh, yah! That picture there at left? No, that’s not my diamond, but it is a picture of a ring I’d found in a magazine ad once upon a time when the king and I were waiting in a doctor’s office. It wasn’t until years later, the day after he was gone, that I found it while going through his wallet. It was taped it to the back of his Social Security card as a reference until the day would eventually came when he could have one just like it made for me and slap it on my finger. BAM! “My Big Mac!” Yes, I’m proud of it, and nope, I’ll never stop wearing it until the day Gia’s future husband comes calling for her hand and it passes to her in legacy.
Whenever I see a diamond, be it “dust sized” or the nearly flawless one he frosted me with that I’ll never stop wearing (even when I’m in public in my dumpster dive clothes and plastic crowns) I see MYSELF: Power and grace in risen “shine” built from one of the most resilient substances on this Earth: FRICTION!
PEOPLE are people, so, why should it be you and I should get along so awfully?
Forty years ago today, unbeknownst to me despite the hundreds of times I’ve since listened to it in my lifetime, the answer to this age-old query was answered in an epic song that was released worldwide.
Umm, so, perhaps the reason we people sometimes have an awful time getting along with other people is because the people they’re attempting to get along with aren’t even “PEOPLE” at all? Long story short:
And so, with that, always remember that if and when you do get into a tangle with a snake, although they can shed their skin, they can never shed their nature. Likewise, although a person can lie about what and who they really are, the patterns in their lives never lie and will always reveal their nature! Just thought I’d share!
In the beginning, God made the land. Then He made the waters and creatures … then He made man. He was born with a passion … love and hate. A restless spirit with a need for a mate. But there was something missing … something lost. So, He came up with the answer. Here’s what it cost: One part love; one part wild; one part lady; one part child. A whole lot of fire; a little bit of ice; a whole lot of something you can’t sacrifice. I give you …
“WOMAN“
Did you know that in many parts of the world, today is recognized as “International Women’s Day“? Indeed, it is the global day to celebrate the social, economic, cultural and political achievements of women. As an American woman and capitalist who is not a fan of either socialism, feminism, or Rosie The Riveter, but is a fan of the solidarity and sanctity and of “The Hood“, I choose to celebrate “woman” for a much more powerful reason than modern women’s ability to pick up a hammer, try to grow their own dicks and balls and conquer “the patriarchy” and man in general. A social media influencer that I’ve been following for a while recently said:
Listen, there is nothing in my world that I have ever experienced that is more profound than the Power, purpose, and joy of watching my wife carry our children and then give birth. As a man, I have no idea what she is feeling. As a man, I have no idea what she is going through. As a man, I have no idea what pressure, stress, pain, and process she is going through. But I do know this is GOD’s most incredible creation.
Love him or hate him (and many people do, as is the plight of many the truth sayer according to Plato), the man is a beast of epic proportion and I couldn’t agree with him more. More so than that, what a beautiful tribute to not just his own wife, but the power of “woman”!
Meanwhile, as far as I’m concerned, perhaps the best thing about the sisterhood of REAL women (or rather should I say “WOMBen”, because without a womb at birth, you ain’t one) is our innate ability to be given anything and multiply it. If you give us your time, we can give you our hearts. If you give us a house, we can give you a home. If you give us the ingredients, we can give you a meal. If you give us your sperm, we can give you a family. If you give us love, honor, loyalty, and respect, we can give you an entire lifetime of unwavering support, partnership, a crown, and a throne from which we can build a kingdom TOGETHER.
We are the most sacred vessels, alchemists, sorcerers, and forces of unrivaled nature that there ever was or ever will be, other than God Himself, which is why I believe He partnered with and empowered us with not just our wombs, but the ability to endure and then rise above unspeakable amounts of physical and emotional pain and suffering for the sake of those whom we ingratiate as the female expression and reflection of His profound and inexplicable creativity and love:
The sobering truth is that it’s the woman’s hand that was meant to rock the cradle, not destroy it! We’re the Earth, the Sun, the Moon, the stars and the entire effing COSMOS to the babies we bear. Even wild animals know this to be true and often do much better jobs of raising their offspring than some of those “things” running around this gig with wombs.Does a good, strong, emotionally wealthy and present father bear any value in raising a child? OF COURSE! Do ya think I’m effing stupid? But you see, “mother love” is the fuel that supplies this world with the most valuable energy of all. As that supply steadily dwindles, humanity is fucking FAILING!Mama” is the only one who can make a human being, so “mama” is the one who wields the most power to fucking shatter a human being irreparably. For every toxic devil of a man roaming this planet and giving “some men” a really bad wrap, chances are that you can trace his fucked up ways back to the hands of the worthless “mama” who either did or did not rock his cradle. Sorry, NOT sorry. It’s the Jean-Claude Van DAMN cold hard truth, and I don’t care what anyone has to say about it.
I guess what I’m REALLY trying to say, here, “ladies”, is perhaps some of you actual ‘lil hookers out there should think about using that “power of your pussies” to do something a little more MAGICAL than just running around fucking literally everything in sight and screwing up huMANity? Spread those legs for the good of all mankind and leave behind a “legacy”, not a “LEGS-in-the-air-DISEASE”! We are epic magic of divine design and the living reflection of HIS femininity, so, why would you want to be anything else? Dare I say that any words, deeds, or “things” THAT (not “who”) negate, make mockery, or spit upon the utmost and highest calling of “woman” are, perhaps, the greatest of all the Devil’s lies.
The late Steve Jobs, whose birthday is today, really did say it best! Why be in the Navy when you can be a pirate? Umm? HELLO? Ya think? Be a pirate! Be a Viking! Be an adventurer! Be ALONE but DON’T be lonely!
But guess what, my little swashbuckling marauders? YA GOTTA CUT THAT ANCHOR THAT’S BEEN KEEPING YOU WEIGHED DOWN, FIRST! FUCK all those norms, traditions, and idyllic ways of EXISTING! FUCK living YOUR life inside the pretty little box you have to SHRINK yourself to fit in so that YOUR life makes everyone else’s more comfortable!
Now, does that mean you should be an asshole or on an upcoming episode of Dateline NBC? Umm, NOPE! It just means you should go and be the BIG, awkward, funny, intelligent, beautiful enigma that you are! DON’T hold back! WEIRD IT OUT! Release yourself from the prison YOU keep yourself held hostage in for the sake of everyone else! And oh yah … just be HAPPY!
STRANGER IN A STRANGE LAND
Living on this lonely street … a stranger in this town. Feel it in this cold concrete whenever I’m around. On the outside looking in … it’s a mystery. When I’m out there in the wind, I know I’m feeling free! I know I’m a stranger in a strange land. Just a stranger … I’m a solitary man. All alone I stand … about … just a stranger in a strange land. Seems I’m spending half my life saying long goodbyes. On the edges of a knife, I leave it all behind. In another place and time I’ll find where I belong, but until that day arrives, I guess I’ll be moving on. {Eddie Money}
On this day back in 2008, Seether released this most powerful song about struggle, resilience, and self-empowerment in the face of hardship in the aftermath of their front man who wrote it, Shaun Morgan, losing his brother to suicide in August of 2007. For me, it’s a relatable and endearing reminder of how some people choose to rise above dismal and tragic circumstances with hope and optimism.
The ability to safeguard, rise above, and master both ourselves AND our “feelings” lies within that glorious sentient power available to us humans known as AUTONOMY. With it, we are afforded the ability to choose where we begin and others end:
No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.
THAT’S WHAT SHE SAID! Eleanor Roosevelt, that is, and I concur! Likewise can nothing harm us unless we decide to allow it to make us feel harmed. I know! I know! Sometimes that’s easier to preach than practice. I mean, HELLO? Have you HEARD some of my rants and taken note of how poorly I’ve often gambled with my own power and grace? Many are the times that some jackass won the keys to the six inches of QUEENDOM real estate between my ears, such that dear ole “Uncle Marcus”, as well my many other ancestors and late husband must SURELY have been screaming at me from that BSOG base camp in the sky:
Umm? Cat? I love ya, kid … I DO … but you DO realize, don’t you, that you COULD have just chosen NOT to be harmed, right?
Lol. It’s all good, though, ’cause through it all, I’ve ended up swallowing a heaping spoonful or two of my own stoic medicine, taken back my power, learned a ‘lil something about myself and where I need to keep focusing my soul work, then forgiven and just moved on!
I guess what I’m trying to say is that it takes an immense amount of self love, respect, and control, as well as a lifetime of sculpting and chiseling to reveal the hidden splendor that lies within our human clay. JUST KEEP CARVING! You’ll get there, my friend, and so will I. In the meantime, whenever you’re feeling lost or in doubt, just call upon The Master, Himself:
Take the light and darken everything around me. Call the clowns and listen closely … I’m lost without You. Call Your name every day when I feel so helpless. I’ve fallen down,but I’ll rise above this! Rise above this! Hate the mind … regrets are better left unspoken! For all we know, this void will grow and everything’s in vain, distressing You, though it leaves me open. Feels so right … but I’ll end this all before it gets me! Call Your name every day when I feel so helpless. I’ve fallen down, but I’ll rise above this! Rise above this! Call Your name every day when I seem so helpless. I’ve fallen down, but I’ll rise above this … rise above this doubt. I’ll mend myself before it gets me. Call Your name every day when I feel so helpless. I’ve fallen down, but I’ll rise above this! 48 ways to say that I’m feeling helpless … I’m falling down, but I’ll rise above this … rise above this doubt!
… because it’s 7:15pm here in Dallas and I just KNOW in my heart and soul that someone out there in this world really needs to hear this message. Keep the faith, kiddo! YOU GOT THIS!
So, tell me, friend. WHO’S YOUR PERSON? As for me, I can honestly say that other than mykids and my ailing German Shepherd who’s just about to cross the bridge, my “person” is ME. Just me. Guess what, though? THAT’S OKAY! I mean, don’t get me wrong, folks – I very much DO have a handful of EPIC ride or die “I got your clockers” in this life, some of whom I’ve never even met, but those women all have lives and families of their own, so, logistically speaking, I’m on my own here.
The most terrible loneliness is not the kind that comes from being alone, but from being misunderstood. It is the loneliness of standing in a crowded room, surrounded by people who do not see you, who do not hear you, who do not know the true essence of who you are.
No matter how far you travel, you can never get away from yourself.
Both these quotes make me sad for anyone who hasn’t yet learned to “see, hear, and understand” themselves such that they are never alone in a crowded room, and even sadder for those who feel the need to “get away from themselves”.
Have I ever told you that I sing love songs to myself? Like, as in I literally SING to myself … every day! It’s called “That Music Thing” and it’s one of the most valuable mental wealth hacks I’ve ever empowered myself with. One of my all time favorite “songs of myself” is one that Zack used to sing me all the time, “When The Seasons Change” by 5FDP. The powerful lyrics are the one food (for my soul) that I’m actually proudto be addicted to:
When the seasons change and we’re in for colder weather I won’t let you down when the seasons change. I won’t go down. I’ll fight through the pain. I’ll be there right by your side. I’ll never let them bring you down when the seasons change.
Da FUCK? I mean, HELLO? Hasn’t ‘lil Tay Tay either touched down or been engaged to at leasta dozen of them? And by “them”, I mean MEN whose behaviors and gaslighting she’s had to silently absorb? Meanwhile, she has no problem whatsoever not so silently absorbing that $800 per ticket from the MEN who’ve shelled out them Benji’s for their wives and daughters to take their ‘lil pink Stanley cups and Lulu Lemon “look at my ass” pants to her shit shows, right? Which is NOT to say that many a self-sufficient women hasn’t funded her own ticket to the parties, too.
But I’ve digressed …
Guess what rage provokes me, “America’s MEATheart”, especially as the mother of a SON and the late wife of a KING who earned every bit of the pedestal he sat upon every single day he walked this Earth along with quitea few damn good men I’ve been lucky enough to love, honor, respect? Well, I’ll tell ya …
“Anything men can do, WE can do better!”
Really? Well, then SUCK IT UP Rosie The Riveter, come down from your sanctimony and shove that fuckin’ hammer that destroyed “the heart of the home” as the world once knew it right up your “I AM WOMAN! HEAR ME ROAR!” ass, ’cause with that train of thought …
“Anything MEN can fuck up, WE can fuck up BETTER!”
Hey, ladies? Sometimes when you’re dealing with a “devil of a man”, the best thing to do is take a good look in the mirror. Have you ever stopped to consider that maybe YOU’RE the one manifesting that devil out of him? Ya get what ya give, know what I’m sayin’? And by the way, don’t forget where we came from: THEIR RIB!
I thank GOD for the truly good men in this world. I respect them, value them, worry for them, and PRAY FOR THEM! I cherish and HONOR men as the strong towers they were intended to be. You see, I am a woman who’s been lucky enough to have been loved by not one, but TWO of the most beautiful KINGS who ever walked this Earth (make that three if you count my son), and often thank God that I wasn’t actually BORN a man. From the moment they draw their first breath, they’re expected to bear the literal weight of the world on their shoulders, and “stay at home trophy husband” USUALLY ain’t an option for them. It’s a brutal reality that so many women take for granted.
If you are a man-hating biotch, YOU are not my people! Actually? You’re gross and the majority of what’s wrong with this world we’re ALL fucking up. So, take your “toxic masculinity” double standards of BULLSHIT back home to your family, cook some fuckin’ chicken for the man in your life if you’re lucky enough to have one, and get the HELL out of my Diary PRONTO!
Okay, I feel better now. Damn! I feel like I just had an exorcism! Now I can get ready for the Stuperbowl this afternoon, which in case you haven’t gotten the memo about yet, I only ever watch for “the pants“. Lol, I don’t even like football, and this despite the fact that my next door neighbor is one of the top ten highest paid NFL quarterbacks in history. I couldn’t give two shits less about that by the way, and (ps), my car is faster than his. Wait! WHAT? To me, he’s not a baller, though. He’s just my next door neighbor who’s a pretty decent MAN.
But I’ve digressed again …
For the record, if I see that cringeworthy hypocrite of a 34 year old woman “secret handshaking and hip bumping” another grown ass woman in the stands again, I’m telling ya I’m gonna lose it! Bye everyone, it’s me, CAT!
You know, honey, you do that, too … the crying in your chair in private thing! Did you think I didn’t know that’s what you do when you run back into our room? You let yourself fall apart so you can keep it all together for us. It’s one of my favorite things about you.’
… after all these years, I’ve finally got it right. I’ve learned to give myself full permission to just sit still and hold space for myself whenever I need to let it go. My “panic chair” is THE safest place to do it.
Actually? After I wrap up this Diary entry, imma go and pour myself a giant bowl of Lucky Charms and eat them IN MY CHAIR! Lol! Believe it or not, this silly piece of furniture is one of the most beautifully static parts of my epically messy life. I deeply love, cherish, and will always hold space for her as part of the magnificent tapestry I’m being woven from.
First of all, and just to be clear, folks … NO! I am so not a runner! Honestly? The mere thought of a marathon of any sort whatsoever makes me sadder than those homeless animal commercials and also kinda makes me want to puke in my own mouth. Lol. Meanwhile, I stumbled across this news footage on social media today and just had to share it:
Back in 2017, 18 year old Ariana Luterman was propelled into the spotlight after a split second decision she made while competing in the BMW Dallas Marathon. When race leader Chandler Self collapsed on the final straight, Ariana stopped to help her fellow competitor finish. Her selfless actions rapidly made news around the world. Now aged 21 and in the midst of studying at university, we caught up with her to hear the full rundown on how events unfolded on the day and the ‘completely insane’ media frenzy that followed.
Really? Exactly how many SENIORS in high school would do something so selfless? I immediately found her on Instagram and commented under one of her posts:
Dear Ariana:I just saw the footage of you helping the doctor whose legs gave out make it to the finish line. Well done, my beautiful friend that I don’t know. Well done. Here’s to you breaking that record, and (ps), GOD SAW THAT! I actually got tears in my eyes watching it. As a widowed mom of two who has GOTTEN to learn the very hard way about what things REALLY matter in this life and what things REALLY don’t, I am so proud of you for putting that kind of love and energy into this atmosphere. I don’t know anything about you or your own parents, but it seems to me that someone did an incredible job raising a person like you. Okay, that’s enough now. I am NOT a “runner” at all, but I’m going to be following your journey now and praying for you!
… and for the record to any of the future fruits from this EPIC family tree who are reading this virtual love letter right now, i.e., to my grandbabies, their grandbabies, and maybe even their grandbabies: THIS is how we roll and it’s “Crazy Grandma Cat” APPROVED! (By the way, even though I may or may not ever get a chance to meet a single one of you in person, please know that I love you, I’m always with you, and if you ever feel a warm breeze brush past your cheek from out of the clear blue (or grey) sky, THAT WOULD BE ME!
He’s tired. So, now I just keep telling him to let me know when he’s ready, assuring him that it’s okay to go, and begging him not to worry about me if that’s what’s keeping him lingering here between his worn out body and that beautiful Rainbow Bridge where I knowhis dad is waiting for him all “squatted down” with those big wide open arms and his favorite stuffed Lamby and cookies.
I’m so thankful for this life Zack left behind for us that has me in the extremely fortunate position of being able to stay hands on and fully attentive to ALL my babies’ lives. Not every widow is so lucky. Because of this, I’m able to just sit quietly and peacefully with Lord Williamson pretty much around the clock, focus on keeping him comfortable, tending to his every whim, and enjoying every second with him until it’s time. Sadly, not even every HUMAN who’s waiting to make that leap to The Brighter Side Of Grey is so lucky and they literally die all alone.
In the meantime …
Dear Walter,
You’ve made sure I always saw the daylight during this last 1,609 days since Daddy left us. It’s okay to let go, I promise. I’ll make sure I’ll always BE the daylight!
Dear God,
Grant me the serenity to accept the things that I can’t change and the wisdom to know the difference. Living one day at a time, enjoying one moment at a time … accepting hardship as a pathway to peace … taking, as Jesus did, this sinful world as it is, not as I would have it … trusting that You will make all things right if I surrender to Your will … so that I may be reasonably happy in this life and supremely happy with You forever in the next.
… what it looks like when a storm, rainbow and sunset collide in the Grand Canyon. The Grand Canyon provides a unique setting for the formation of rainbows due to its immense size and the presence of water particles in the air. When rain showers pass through the canyon, the sunlight interacts with the water droplets, resulting in the creation of stunning rainbows.
No, kiddo. This picture is a reflection of you AND Me! Remember: You are everything because you are nothing, and no one can become “EVERYTHING and ALL OF IT” unless they first become “NOTHING at all”. It’s the one great paradox in what you often only THINK is your meaningless existence, when in reality, your existence is profound and truly magnificent. (ps) I love you. You’re my favorite.
Venom made his first appearance in 1984 as a new Spider-Man suit the “Secret Wars” storyline when Spider-Man came into possession of a mysterious new black suit that gave him extra powers, which suit is later revealed to be a malevolent alien symbiote that attached itself to Peter Parker. Although Peter soon rid himself of the suit because of its inherently evil nature and propensity to channel an inner darkness inside himself that he doesn’t want to channel, the symbiote ended up bonding with Eddie Brock, a reporter with a serious grudge against Spider-Man. Eddie Brock and the black suit then became symbiotically bonded as Venom. So then, no, Venom is not Spider-Man.
Long story short? I don’t think anyone really knows how fucking CRUEL the world can be until you’ve had to grow up and protect your children from your own “family”. If you are one of us who is fighting desperately to change your family’s legacy, I’m truly sorry that you’re having a spend your adulthood fixing things you didn’t break so that your children can have a better future. “The battle that lies within you” is not for the faint of heart, and I FEEL YOU! Stay strong. Keep the faith. RISE ABOVE! Oh, and by the way, “malignant parent” that is reading this right now, always remember that how your kids treat you when they no longer need you is a direct reflection of how you treated them when they needed you to survive.
As for me? I’ve since learned that the best way to end an infectious relationship “disease” is to just let it fuckin’ STARVE! No contact! No responses! No reactions! No NOTHING! Just stop feeding the slimy thing, ’cause the energy you put into it is where its power lies. K, bye!
Enough said on this subject that no one really wants to talk about. Oh, with the exception of this bittersweet life nugget that I had to learn the very hard way at the life and death of my angel daughter, Gina Marie, exactly twenty years ago this day:
Next, there was the little one who passed go but never collected the $200 before her tiny little feet hit the board. She was both the greatest gift and greatest tragedy of my life, wrapped softly in a yellow blanket and sent straight back Home in angel’s wings. Still, even with an often daily struggle with the hole in my heart that belongs to her, I must admit that there have been days that I’ve thanked God that He took her out of here before the pain and struggle of simply “existing” became her any longer than the few short hours she spent here.
Let’s be honest all you parents out there in this bullshit club of having to outlive and bury child: Have any of you ever felt a little guilty about bringing them into “all of this” in the first place? Indeed, I have, and will continue to bear this double-edged sword of parenthood with as much “power and grace” as I can keep on mustering. Even on my best days in the hood, though, the burden of carrying the weight that an often sick and depraved “humanity” heaps upon our shoulders is all but impossible.
For the record, whether you’re a parent or not, if you never made it to see The Sound Of Freedom, I cannot urge you strongly enough to find a way to see it. I Jean-Claude Van DAMN promise that you’ll never be able to look at either an 18-wheeler rolling down the highway or a coastal shipyard loaded with “empty” cargo boxes the same again. Granted, it’s uncomfortable subject matter, disturbing nonetheless, but a MUST SEE for the sake of opening your eyes, ears, hearts, and awareness to what I believe is the most abominable travesty on this planet.
As for me and how I’m choosing to acknowledge both this “National Human Trafficking Awareness Day” and what would have been my tiniest angel’s 20th birthday had Destiny not much better plans for her, I’ll remain as steel a magnolia I can, all the while praying and crying on my knees for all those babies locked inside darkened rooms, even as I’m writing this, and begging GOD that those demons masked as “humans” will meet their final judgment day with as much hell, fire, and damnation as they wreaked on His children.
Whoever you are, or whatever it is that you do, when you REALLY want something, it’s because that desire originated in the soul of The Universe. It’s your mission on Earth.
Now I have children of my own. They ask their mother, what will I be? Will I be handsome? Will I be rich? I tell them tenderly … Qué será, será. Whatever will be, will be. The future’s not ours to see.
Some people when they hear a groove shake their head, ’cause they just can’t approve. Well, I turn up the music ’til it’s shakin the sky! There’s nights you wanna yell for help, but you can’t fly when you’re standing still!THERE’S NOTHING WRONG WITH RAISING SOME HELL!
{Kenny Loggins w/ Steve Perry}
Are you getting my drift here, people? There is nothing, and I mean NOTHING you can do to avoid your destiny. It was written in the stars EONS before your mommy met your daddy, and the blueprints for your journey were drawn and discussed in rooms you’ll never know about by powers that are above our mortal comprehension and pay grade:
If I’ve learned anything by now, it’s that the only semblance of “order” I can count on is … OH, that’s right … there isn’t one! So, I just let all the pieces show up in their perfect timing and let them fall in place.
By the way, HAPPY BIRTHDAY, Kenny Loggins! Not only have I been rocking to your music for years, but you also share a birthday with one of my favorite “raise some hell while you’re fighting it” music alchemists of all, Ivan Moody! Gotta love it!
“Hi guys, just checking on you and hoping all is well. Also reminding you that today would be my mom’s birthday. Please say a prayer for her. I love you all.”
ME:
“Mom, I’ve been thinking about her LITERALLY all day, am wearing her black zip up jacket, am wrapped up in her blue blanket, and have the little flower basket I got from the funeral and added “MARY” in Scrabble letters to on my desk as I’m working all day.”
MOM:
“I’m glad you remembered Grandma. She was an awesome, creative and very smart woman. I called her my little “whipper snapper” or Eveready battery because nothing could keep her down. Nothing!”
Yes, you really were a little whipper snapper, which is probably where I got it, and yes, you really were an Eveready battery whom NOTHING could ever keep down! It’s probably no coincidence that as I’m going through the process of straightening my crown again by reminding myself who I am and where I came from, that YOU showed managed to show up like the whipper snapper you were to help me reset my battery. Happy Heavenly 100th, beautiful! I LOVE YOU ALWAYS FOREVER!
On this first day of a brand new year, I am gazing back at my childhood. While there are, indeed, some happy memories to be found there, for me, growing up felt mostly like constantly falling out of a bloodied and blackened sky as a million tiny shards of glass. My parents had all of my pieces in their hands, but courtesy of their own toxic childhoods, were unable to see or catch my scattered pieces, much less put them back together. Lol. “Generational trauma” … the gift that just keeps on giving. As a result, I was given no choice but to find a way to pick up, make sense of, and mend my shards alone.
Yes, I’ve healed my own broken heart way too many times to count, but I’m still just a woman who was painstakingly pieced back together with an adhesive whose sole compound is the love I finally found for myself despite the many circumstances that otherwise tried to refuse me this gift of self-artistry. Even so, I will never have that once flawless interior that I arrived here with on the day that I was born and there will always be little gaps between my pieces. Thus, the current decline in my mental health. Does the Light still shine through me like a mosaic? Of course! But does the darkness still creep through me as well? YOU BETTER BELIEVE IT! My job now is to make sure I don’t allow the latter to happen more often than the former such that the black hole my husband slipped to inks the final page of my story.
At the end of the day, I’ve had quite enough of all this hunting, gathering, and gluing myself back together like the master “Shardsman” I’ve become, and I didn’t come this far to keep having to fucking be one. Meanwhile, as an adult survivor of a fucked up beyond reality “childhood”, I guess what’s tearing me apart the most these days isn’t what was done to me, but rather, the shocking and sobering fact that after a lifetime of ducking and dodging the bullets of textbook malignant narcissism, no one will apologize, no one will intervene, and no one will stand up, say “ENOUGH!”, and help me protect the kids I brought into this tragedy we call a “family”. Instead, they just stand there and watch the shit show of arrows flying right past their faces and hearts and often straight into their backs. At this point in the game, my heart, mind, and soul are sick and tired of having to work so hard to keep all this shit together. My hands are bloodied and torn from the serrated edges of myself I’ve had to handle over the years. I just want to exist in peace now, not in “pieces”.
But you see, the flip side of this bittersweet, double-edged sword of a living love story I’ve become is that I’ve gotten to learn the very hard way that my heart is love and my hands can rest because my soul has learned to happily exist in the blissful peace of my own solitude unless and until I decide to let anyone near me with a hammer again, much less be forced to just stand there and watch some mother fucker with a hammer continually annihilate my children. The best that I can do now is the best that I can do while at least trying to embody and teach my babies, grown as they may be, the art of becoming their own Shardsmen. God, Himself knows that I, too, in all of my failings as a mortal parent have dropped a hammer or two onto their once perfect and whole glass hearts. Now? I can’t and won’t leave here until I’ve taught them the secret of “the glue”:
THEMSELVES!
One year ago this month, yet another brave daughter sent up a requiem about the lingering effects of her childhood trauma. I borrow her words to send out to not just my parents, but any other parent who’s ever emotionally crippled their child:
I thought it was normal to watch your parents fight. It taught me dysfunction was just part of life … that love’s just a word that we use to excuse our mistakes.Now, I can’t tell if I’m afraid or just jaded. I guess I’m just scared to end up the way they did. How do I unlearn the ways I deal with pain when that was all they taught me?To everyone I’ve loved who’s let me down, let this letter hold what I can’t say out loud. What do I owe you for who I became? Should I say thank you or curse your name? Do I give you credit or all of the blame, ’cause growth and pain always feel the same.I try to avoid it when I meet somebody new. I fall for the same shit that I did with you, ’cause there’s comfort in chaos, and that’s why I kept you around. It’s insane to me that this could be the medicine and the disease – the cigarette that’s killin’ me – yet, I still wanna breathe in. I keep tryin’ to wash off the smell, but it’s stuck on my skin. I wanted to fix this – I thought we could change – but when will I learn that’s a damn mistake? I’ll keep on givin’ ’til my body breaks, ’cause growth and pain always feel the same? I know it’s not your fault, but I don’t know who to blame, oh-oh. Growth and pain, growth and pain, growth and pain. They feel the same, feel the same, feel the same.
Look, I don’t know who needs to hear this right now, but please don’t be that parent whose adult children struggle with the lifelong fear that your grandchildren are gonna spend their entire lives looking in all the wrong places for the glue to put themselves back together after being imprisoned by the endless childhood trauma recovery YOU sentenced their parent to. Remember, some of us eventually realize that the families we create and the safe and healthy places we want to take them are much more important than the abusive and unacceptable bullshit YOU served us, so we burn it all down to the ground then walk away from you for good!
It’s hard to tell these days and which way that I am falling. I’m not sure anymore what’s right or what is wrong. It hurts to feel, to think, to know I may be nothing. But then again, I’ve been wrong before. I’ve opened up my eyes just to wish that I’d stayed blind. Blacken out the sky and let the arrows fly. It’s never over, not ’til it’s over. Outside looking in, when do the nightmares end? Over and over, until it’s over. The end!
As for me? I can honestly say that the last few months of 2023 all but took me to my knees and sent me into another mental health tailspin. The woman I’ve worked so hard to become and seemed shatterproof has been fractured once again and will be leaving social media and life as I’d been enjoying it for a while to calm the fire and put myself back together. I’ll be back and Imma be alright, and no, this isn’t “the end” for me. I did NOT survive all that I’ve survived just to go back to where I came from!
… because sometimes what’s actually in your own head becomes much more bearable and impeccable under not so impeccable circumstances when they’re being channeled through the thoughts, words, and deeds of someone who’s channeling someone else’s:
Oh, my dear Lone Wolf! If ONLY you knew LEGIT how many times a day I fucking SCREAM these words out loud either inside my head, in my car, or in my home. Sooner or later they’ll be tattooed on my back for some of those BASTARDS to read when they find my body dead somewhere.
“So take these chains from me … break these bastards … there’s no masters here! In the end … BREAK THESE BASTARDS! THERE’S NO MASTERS HERE!”
Just sayin’!
“What’s in your head … in your head … ZOMBIE … ZOMBIE?”
Happy New Year, Vext! You’re doin’ good, my friend, and I hope you know that you are loved, valued, and HEARD by those of us who need to NEED to hear you. I’m about to sign off of social media for a while to get my currently spiraling mental health back in order, but I’ll be watching and listening to you on our family page.
I cannot tell you how many times I’ve been told that I’m the darkest burning star filled within joy, love, happiness and light that some have ever met. To me, there is no greater compliment!
… but is it really true, as Einstein said, that “a picture is worth a thousand words”? Let’s ponder that for a minute. Take, for example, this picture of my son and his girl taken one year ago this day on his 30th birthday trip to Aspen. Or rather should I say, she’s our girl, not just his, as she’s one who has somehow managed to not just steal his heart, but in many ways UN “steel” his heart once and for all. It’s one of my favorites of them thus far.
Do you see it?
Do you see what I see here? Of course not! But you see, as his mother, not only does this snapshot evoke insurmountable feelings of pride, joy, happiness, hope, and LOVE for both of their futures, likewise is it a poignant reminder of the entire lifetime of mental pictures flipping back and forth through not just my head, but his, hers, and probably even the stranger who snapped it. As with every photograph, the backstories of both of their lives that culminated to this one moment captured in time are the collective lifetimes of “nothing, everything, ALL OF IT” experiences they’ve had prior.
Always remember that not every child was equipped with the proper toolbox and blueprint for how to be in a healthy relationship. Sadly, so many people truly believe that the broken adult born of a toxic childhood should somehow just be able to magically snap their fingers and “get over it”. What they don’t realize is that the environment a child was raised in either systematically FAILS or eniquivocally EQUIPS them to cognitively, emotionally, psychologically, and often even physically grow into a normal, healthy, functioning adult with the wings they need to fly and the tools they need to not just “survive”, but THRIVE as a healthy adult in any capacity. When a young person is always in “fighting just to survive” mode, they often miss the REAL flying lessons.
I’ve been avoiding things I’m missing. Then you came into my life a brand new flower, baby. A reminder of what happiness is like on the other side. I’m saying my blind side. And if a mental picture’s all I’ve got to go on, for a while or more … you know I’ll always think of you, think of you.
(John Secada)
By the way, never forget that sometimesthe person we need most to help us check our “blind side” and cultivate a season of brand new flowers is ourselves! (Wink, wink!)
So, with that, I say Einstein truly was a genius, and not just academically speaking. As is the case with the more intelligent of the human species, his knowledge of the human heart, soul, mind, and mental pictures that they take were spot on!
The Diary Of My Perfection 