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.
Ten years ago this day, one of the sweetest and most powerful songs of my story was released: “All Of Me“, by Jon Legend.
With that, it’s only fitting that I reveal one of the most regrettable and embarrassing things I’ve ever done in my life. Oh, don’t get me wrong, “the 32 dresses” regret will always be at the very top of my list, but I spent an EXTRA regrettable and embarrassing amount of time trying to be someone I wasn’t. This is saying a lot, by the way, as I have not hidden the fact that I’ve done some really boneheaded things in the last fifty plus decades.
As I look back now, I realize that I’ve always had a spunky personality and loved making people happy … BUT … for way too many years to count, I was just a dimmed down version of “all of this”. As I look back even further, I also realize that contrary to what I’ve often said, no, I have never been truly “voiceless”. I have, however, been filtered. Meanwhile, the former “make sure everyone ELSE is happy, even if it costs you your own happiness” version of myself wasn’t – fucking – REAL! As it turned out, there was a MUCH better way of doing this “who am I supposed to be” thing all along …
I JUST NEEDEDTO BE “ALL OF ME”!
These days? If someone wants to so much as breathe the air in my atmosphere, the deal they have to sign up for is ALL OF ME – the good, the bad, the ugly, and the often excruciatingly annoying – or Jean-Claude Van DAMN nothing at all!
So, Cat, is life up there in your shiny, happy queendom ever kinda lonely?
Umm, nope! HELL, NOPE! Trust me when I tell you that the drum to which I beat that only I can play, hear, and understand is loud enough to entertain me from now until eternity, and it is, indeed, possible that I will remain happily alone, but definitely not lonely until the bittersweet and beautiful end.
One of my truest wishes is that ALL OF YOU master this priceless mental wealth hack that I personally used to free myself from my mental institutionalization. PLEASE just tell the world (and even yourself when necessary) to JUST FUCK OFF when “what’s best for them” isn’t every single piece of you. Other than Brooks Hatlen from The Shawshank Redemption, I don’t think I’ve ever known of anyone who actually wanted to stay in prison, but I’d be lying if I said that being comfortable “behind walls” wasn’t the first forty years of my life.
More so than “all of that”, yet another one of my mental wealth hacks came in the form of understanding that in order for me to allow myself the full extent of grace I needed to heal all the broken pieces of my spirit, I had to STOP compartmentalizing the most damaged parts of me and keeping them stored in a box. The truest grace I’ve ever found came from learning how to love myself WHOLE, not just in pieces, just the way God loves “all of us”! I can’t just pick and choose which parts of me to love … I HAVE TO LOVE ALL OF ME … because that’s what unconditional love is!
If you’re not surrounded by people and a YOU who can’t handle ALL OF YOU at face value, then take your REAL face – the good, the bad, and the VERY, very ugly – accept it, own it, be proud of it and in love with it, then go on and SHOW IT TO SOMEONE ELSE! Hey, look, if the ALL OF YOU you release from your very own personal Shawshank is too much for the world to handle and you find your “people pickins” are slim, just remember …
JESUS LOVES ALL YOU!
(The good, the bad, and EVEN the very ugly.)
(PS) If unlike me, you don’t sport a sailor’s mouth, you don’t literally have to say “GO FUCK YOURSELF”. Sometimes just walking away silently is even nastier than an eff bomb.
As and aside, I thought that it was only fitting that I mention that the song “All Of Me” fits so perfectly with the theme of this post. Exactly three years ago today, my Mona Lisa had her very first dance to this song. Not only has my daughter already become well accustomed to not accepting anyone who doesn’t accept ALL OF HER at face value, so, too, did that king of mine love me just like I am. I cannot tell you how many times he “1-2-3’d (I – Love – You)” my hand as he’d sing these words to me:
What would I do without your smart mouth drawin’ me in and you kickin’ me out? You’ve got my head spinnin’ – no kiddin’ – I can’t pin you down. What’s goin’ on in that beautiful mind? I’m on your magical mystery ride, and I’m so dizzy – don’t know what hit me – but I’ll be alright.
Indeed, it’s true … the man loved ALL OF ME … win, lose, or draw … and never will accept anything less than that bar he left set so high. NEITHER SHOULD ANY OF YOU!
Holding on with all I had inside for the sake of my life. I was pulled underwater. Crying out, I called for anyone to share this fight … but I sank farther!Waiting for the day the storm would pass and leave my life. It only made me stronger! I didn’t want to wait, but all that was on my mind was, “How much longer”?So weathered … worn and battered … I have stayed! I keep treading as I dread the waves. My hands were tied, but I still made it. Still, I’ve been shaken! Even when my mind’s exhausted, I SURVIVE! My heart is tired, but it’s not broken! No matter what the cost is, I SURVIVE!
~ We Came As Romans (Words Adapted) ~
Look, I don’t know who needs to hear this right now … BUT … if YOU are in the waves of grief thinking you’ll never swim again:
You look like me. You act like me. Actually? Nah! You act so much more BETTER than me. Actually? Nah! That’s not acting you’re doing. The truth is that you ARE so much better than me. You’re the me I wish I could have been when I was your age. So many people say that I’m the “strong one” in this family. Nah! There aren’t that many people who really know the extent of what you’ve had to survive, but sufficed to say that you’re power, grace, beauty, and strength put mine to shame.
Happy 18th birthday, Gia! You are a truly amazing young woman who as an adult today, I’m thankful to now be able to officially call my truest and dearest friend. It’s been my utmost and greatest privilege raising both you and your brother and having up close and personal seats to watch who you’re both becoming. I know for a fact that being your mom is what I was meant to do, and yes, you truly are one of the brightest diamonds in my tiara.
… meanwhile, I thought about being an emotional disaster today, until, that is, I received this most powerful reminder from oldest “truest and dearest friend” who I met at around age 11 in the sixth grade. This is what she said:
Hugs to you, Momma, on Gia’s 18th birthday! I know you’re emotional about it, but know that you have raised 2 amazing people! Y’all have been through a lot, but you survived together because you taught them (and they taught you) how to be strong. They’re never really grown, and they always need Momma. Even when it’s mostly you calling them, they’re secretly glad you do! You might be all out of babies, but now it’s your turn to rest a little and do all the things you want to before the grandbabies come!
With that, yes, it’s true! My babies will never be grown … they’ll always need their momma … and I’m not going anywhere but with them for as long as the ride allows!
… that moment it’s the morning of The Mona Lisa’s18th birthday soirée and you literally just got done asking God for another sign to let you know that the King who had to leave The Kingdom he built for his girls is, indeed, truly here in spirit for the day’s events.
… because sometimes the only thing I really have to say are the words to a song that won’t stop playing in my head. Oh, and THIS …
How lucky am I to be wandering through this beautifully twisted maze at the end of these not so lonely halls of with The One who has never let me down or “lost me”?
Can I be dreaming once again? I’m reaching … helpless I descend. You lead me deeper through this maze … I’m not afraid. Your whispers fill these empty halls. I’m searching for You as you call. I’m racing … chasing after you … I need You more. I could never be the same … something that I never could erase … I could never look away.
I’m lost in You … everywhere I run … everywhere I turn … I’m finding something new. Lost in You … something I can’t fight … I cannot escape. I could spend my life lost in You. I lost myself in you! It’s all over now!Lost in you!
On this day in 2004, Breaking Benjamin released their “We Are Not Alone” album. Although I do so love every song, my hands-down favorite that I still listen to frequently is “Follow”. With that, the first thing that comes to my mind is one of the burning questions I’ve been asked a time or two over the course of the last two or three years:
Lol! First of all, it’s not running away … it’s WALKING away. There’s a difference! Second of all, it’s working out PRETTY good! But, umm, and I only slam the door when the people, places, and things I’ve allowed in my space become toxic, parasitic, or worse yet, take advantage of me.
They’re called BOUNDARIES, people, not “grudges”! Of course we should strive to be loving, kind, patient, forgiving, and empathetic foremost and above all things, but not if that means throwing our good energy after bad.
So, follow me – or don’t – ’cause not only are my time, energy, and electricity priceless, but queens don’t mind sitting at the table alone if it means not sitting at the table with people who only offer scraps. Look, it’s one thing if all someone has to offer is scraps, but a totally different scene when someone has more to offer, but not for you.
I’m losing sight … don’t count on me. I chase The Sun … it chases me. You know my name. You know my face. You’d know my heart, if you knew my place. I’ll walk straight down as far as I can go.
Guess what? This QUEEN really IS expensive and she’ll be walking straight down without some bitches every day of the rest of her life going forward. Imma bring it ALL to those who are lucky enough to be in my halo. So, they’re gonna have to bring it ALL, too, or go find some other cheap hooker SELLOUT who enjoys eating leftovers and little scraps of bullshit, ’cause I … am NOT … the one!
When I was a child, I’d sit for hours staring into open flame. Something in it had a power … could barely tear my eyes away. When I was a child, I heard voices. Some would sing and some would scream …
… which is exactly why NOPE, not ALL the holes in my little holes in toxic trait bucket need to be spackled, plugged up, or “fixed”.
Yes, there was a demon on my shoulder this week as I expelled the poison that had been pooling in my “just about to start morphing to black” soul for a minute “Cheeseburger & Fireworks” rant. But guess what, folks?
THAT ONE GETS TO STAY!
My fluffy little beast with a spiked collar and pit viper venom will stay chained to my dark side always to remind me to be careful where I’m spending my pearls of love and kindess. There really is a power in these open flames that are often fueled by the voices from my childhood. The good news is that I’ve firmly decided that those voices will die with me, which is exactly why I’ll be keeping some of them so close to me on a leash. Meanwhile, here’s to a repeat appearance of one HELL of an ode, if not love song to my little pets!
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!
… meanwhile, not four months later at my parents’ dinner table during a belated Father’s Day celebration, I discovered yet another ancient doorway to my past and “my cosmic skin kaleidoscope“. As it turns out, not only did some of “my people” survive and rise from ashes, they survived and rose from an earthquake, too.
~ Traveling Back In Time To My Ancestral Family Roots ~ (Note that I do not own the rights to this video that was made by my cousin, Steven, to whom the credit belongs.)Audino Family Home … Martirano
No, she doesn’t. I mean, does she realize that people have lives? Of course. Is she grieving not just him, but the loss of so many of their “friends” in the aftermath of his departure? YOU BETCHA! As for me? After about the first three months of “widowed, my phone stopped ringing, the texts went MIA, and my heart broke all over again in unspeakable ways. Whatever happened to that age-old adage to not forget the orphans and widows?
The widow’s life ticks out like clockwork. A thousand tears she’s cried a hundred times before. But now that he is gone, she’s ready to move on. It all just fell away – it seems like yesterday.
This “being forgotten” thing IS, indeed, one of the most painful parts of our process. Our husbands die, then so does life as we knew it … up to and including our “friends”:
Unfortunately, about two months after you’ve lost your husband your friends kind of forget about it. They dropped over a lasagna or sent flowers. They may even have taken time off work to attend the funeral. They shed genuine tears for you but soon the demands of day-to-day living set in and their life returns to normal. But, not so for you!This is when you need the most support – right when most of your friends have moved on and are thinking “she will just have to get used to her new life”. Although this is true to a point, time has to pass for grief to heal and soften. Partly, it’s because they want to believe you’re feeling better, but they also feel helpless and uncomfortable, unsure how to help someone navigate their grief. After the ‘I’m so sorry’, and ‘Here’s a casserole’, people just don’t know what to say.
To the very few people who’ve been consistent in my atmosphere since the king went and blew his damn brains out, know that I’m beyond grateful and in a river of “happy/sad/angry” tears I write this. And while I realize I’m luckier than many other widows I’ve met on this road who’ve been all but completely abandoned by “their people”, watching my “friends” on “NOT so social for everyone media” just out there living their lives without having ever once asked if I’d like to get out of this beautiful prison that is now my life has been one of my most brutal realities.
At this point, I don’t respond to the “friends” who couldn’t find time to bother with me, yet did have the time to hit me up for their kiddo’s fundraisers, new businesses, discounted listings, and multitude of other “favors”:
Umm, no, I won’t be ordering your miracle skin care system for the super low price of $59.99 or signing up for your latest MLM, ’cause wouldja, COULDJA have thunk to invite me to your Jean Claude Van DAMN fucking barbecue, or didja think I’d have more fun all alone here in my castle watching Netflix with my dog and a buncha birds? And aren’t you that “friend” who used another agent to sell your house when you knew full WELL that …? Oh, FUCK it! Never mind! Nope, I’m NOT buying what you’re selling, and you can shove all those fireworks right the fuck up your … YOU KNOW! But, hey, have a really nice day!
Do YOU you know a widow?
Chances are that you do. So, in honor of this “International Widow’s Day“, do me a favor and just send her a text to let her know you’re thinking of her. It’ll cost you a few seconds, but be priceless to her. Invite her to coffee. Invite her to a movie. Hell, she probably won’t even go, no matter how much you insist, if she’s become a shut in like me, but it will mean the world to her to so much as be asked.
For the record, I’m sorry that I’m not sorry for this cringey rant. These “unspeakable ways” a widow’s heart often gets re-broken needed to be SPOKEN for once and all. These are the things the widow really wants “her people” to know but doesn’t say, ’cause being abandoned in her grief has kinda left her speechless.
Hi everyone! It’s me, The REAL widowed, angry, and maybe a little PSYCHO Cat Williamson … not the sugary sweet, FAKE, and BLIND one! I’m ONLY here to keep it REAL (and maybe a little awkward), and remind all “my people” that I sho ‘nough DID see all you mofos leavin’ me out of your little barbecues! I cannot stress enough to NOT be passin’ by me if you’re on fire, ’cause going forward, THIS biotch is savin’ all her pisses for those who have NOT pissed on her 1,420 days of widowhood. Also? “The First National Bank Of Holy F**K, Cat Hit The ZACKpot!” is officially CLOSED, so don’t be asking me to donate to all your kids’ races for them cures. I’d rather go SOLO to cheeseburgers dates with MYSELF sharing all the love and giving what I have away to Jean-Claude Van Damn effing STRANGERS than be the doormat people only wipe their feet on when they need something!
And now a word from our sponsor, ’cause if any song deserves a repeat performance in this dumpster fire Diary of mine that, (ps), most of “my people”, up to and including my own fucking family couldn’t so much as been bothered to support and subscribe to after the countless times I’ve asked, IT’S THIS ONE:
Rising up, back on the street. Did my time, took my chances. Went the distance, now I’m back on my feet. Just a girl and her will to survive.
Hi everyone! It’s me, CAT, and this is the story of “how” I ended up eating a heapin’ plate of my own stinkin’ sheep shit after having finally taken my own, “Don’t just SAY what your toxic traits are … FIX THEM, dear Real Cat! FIX THEM!” advice. Oh, don’t get me wrong – I love fluffy little sheep. It’s just that I don’t wanna BE one. I’m a FELINE, my friends, and cats are kinda famous for standing upright in the midst of nonsensical BULLSHIT … even when it’s SHEEP SHIT of their own!
So, with that, happy upcoming “FIFTY FAUXTH” birthday to me! I’ve risen up, got the eye of a BEAST, and yup, you’re gonna keep hearing me roar! I’m back in the tribe … my Lion’s Den LIVE ticket bought and paid for … hotel and flights to and fro booked … so, Salt Lake City, HERE I COME! Hell! I’m even treating myself to a full day before and behind the event so I can spend some time exploring a city I’ve had on my Bucket List for eons. Yah! I CAN DO THAT! Solo sojourning is one of the perks of being a fearless QUEEN who knows the value of eating alone on an unfrozen tundra!
I was pleasantly surprised when reinstating my Membership to find that it’s only $47 a month, whereas before it was almost $300. Working with Sean is now achieveable for everyone. Keep in mind that he’s not for the faint of heart, though, and especially not for crybabies like I was in that hot, stupid minute when I quit and ran away after breaking Agreement Number Two and taking something personally that wasn’t even about ME. In the meantime, I’d be an asshole, myself, to not give him some of the credit for propelling me into this bittersweet but epic widowed journey:
I’ve been following Sean Whalen, “the Lions Not Sheep” guy, for some time now. He’s one of those influencers that so many people love to hate, with unfiltered “truth bombs” that pummel his audience with supersized doses of reality. He’s been there, done that, had it all, lost it all, and changed the lives of those who are brave enough to face his sobering messages in the mirror. Some people call him an asshole. Sometimes he can BE an asshole! But he’s also one of the greatest fathers I’ve never met.
Meanwhile, let it be known to all that if, perhaps, there is one last king out there fortifying his own kingdom, just as I’ve been fortifying mine, and preparing his table to receive me as the queen who will sit beside him, he’ll be nothing less than a lion of magnanimous proportion with a roar like no one’s ever heard before.
All that being said, if YOU want to know “HOW” I got some of this “thing” that I have, click on either of the pictures below and check it out. By the way, this is NOT a paid advertisement. This man has upwards of a million people following him right now. He doesn’t even need shoutouts at this point. The truths in his system are self-evident, and I’m one of them.
The sobering fact is that regardless of whether we ever truly know the truth behind another’s intentions, when words such as those leave another person’s lips, it’s always a cry for help.
Should’ve stayed? Were there signs I ignored? Can I help you not to hurt anymore?
While I desperately hope that his family took the information she relayed dead seriously, “emotional manipulation” or otherwise, I’m thankful she found “the serenity to accept the things she couldn’t change, the courage to change the things she could, and the wisdom to know the difference”.
If you are the parent, grandparent, teacher, or young adult caretaker of any kind, I cannot encourage you enough to take the time to educate and prepare yourself for “times like these“, and even more so, when appropriate, educate the kids in your halo about the warning signs of both suicidalityand “manipulation“. Unfortunately, the black hole of mental illness is growing deeper and darker daily. The chances are high that a child may be faced with a situation like this at least once before they’ve reach adulthood and even remotely equipped to handle it alone. Just start that conversation like this:
Human beings can’t be each other’s duct tape, sweet child. So, let’s talk about what do should the day ever come that someone asks you to be theirs.
… meanwhile, here we stand at the precipice of the wide open range she’s just raring at the bit to go flyin’ out across. My little girl is making me smile again … and cry my damn eyes out … because in less than twelve months from this very night I’ll be moving her to Lubbock, Texas to take the ride of her life. I couldn’t be any prouder of her if I wanted to. By the way? I MADE HER! Me! It was me! I’m the one who created this masterpiece! Just sayin’!
I am nothing, everything, and all of it at once, and nope, I’m not that special. Meanwhile, can I just say this? I’m in love with this “Being” I cannot see, yet, I feel everywhere in every thing. Yes, I very much do still fall for Him like suns fall for skies. I know. I know. It’s sounds kinda crazy, right? Well, it doesn’t mean it isn’t true.
While “You Reign” will always be my go-to love song to The Power that’s running my “all of this”, this one is giving it a run for the money. When I sing it, I SING IT OUT LOUD! I sing it to HIM as my heart literally feels like it’s bursting out of my chest the way it did the very first time I heard it. Then I weep … because if only I could “poof” this magic thing I have to everyone I meet, oh, what a world this would be!
Dear God,
I push my feet to the edge. I look, and I face my world. This lonely scene … I take it in. It’s hard to say where all of it begins and I end. And I waited for the sky to change, but, oh, it never did, and I almost dropped my head and lost my faith. Then I saw You from a distance … You were worlds away. Oh, but You had me from the vision … I never looked away again.I walk these streets of loneliness. A tranquil sea on all horizons. This empty scene of might-have-beens … I stare at starless skies that call to me and I still wish. They said that we both were too different … that all of the shine would fade away. But I wish that I never listened, ’cause You pulled me through the grey. I still fall for You like suns do for skies. Cerulean pouring in from Your eyes. Just a hollow moon that You colorized. So powerful. I feel so small … but so alive … like watching the Earthrise.
Although I’m not from the UK, I can totally get on board with The Empath Lab’s “World Empathy Day 2023”. With that …
Dear Empath,
It’s easier to disappear than to fell the things I’m feeling here. One man left out … I feel his pain. In this crowded room I can’t concentrate. You ask the world … I can’t say no, ’cause I’d feel the sorrow fill your soul like my hearts in someone else’s chest. Take the weight of all their brokenness. I don’t wanna bear this weight, but their blood starts pumping through my veins. Don’t let me sink into their grave … just gotta be alone today. Her panic starts … I hold my breath. Still, I can’t avoid the pounding chest. I try to run … I trip instead as my spirit enters in her head. A million voices cloud my mind. A shattered heart. A shattered life. Just tryna have a peaceful night, but this this stranger’s soul is tied with mine. I don’t wanna bear this weight, but their blood starts pumping through my veins. Don’t let me sink into their grave. Just gotta be alone today. Just gotta be alone today. Feel like the weight of the world. I’m not strong enough. Don’t know where to run. Would you hold me up? Oh, I’m crumbling down. Sink into the ground. Would you lift me up?
Can U imagine being 18, 19, or 20 and getting in this metal coffin to travel across the English Channel while standing in an ankle deep mixture of cold sea water and puke knowing that when that door drops, U have to step out, and if everything goes right, U’ll be on a beach in France? And if everything doesn’t go perfectly, U’ll step out and swim to a beach lugging 80lbs of gear into a hail of bullets and mortars and the sound of 1,000 machine guns meant to send U to Ur Maker. This was not, “Oh, shit! I forgot to study for my Physics test!”, or, “I can’t find a job!”, or, “Damnit! I can’t pay my cell phone bill this month!”, or, “My girlfriend broke up with me!” or, God forbid, “They didn’t call me by my right pronouns!” … or any other tragedies that might wake up a 19 year old today. No. U’ve been handed a gun, a helmet, and some some rations, and U’ve been told good luck by some officers back in Dover who know, at best, 50% U aren’t coming home, and if things go sideways, 90% of U may bleed out on a beach a few miles away or drown just trying to get there. The bravery and the terror is never quite captured in the photos. Even the very best of them.
{Craig Chase}
Meanwhile …
It’s hard to tell these days and which way that we’re falling. I’m not sure any more 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!
It’s hard to fathom just how fast we all are spinning. It’s hard to know that there’s a heaven beyond hell. It burns a hole right through my soul to think it’s ending. But then again, I’ve been right before. I’ve opened up my eyes just to find out you’re all blind!
Make a wish … say a prayer … hope that Someone is out there. Build a bridge to Babylon then burn it to the ground!
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!
{Five Finger Death Punch}
For the record, I truly am an outside the box, highly conservative yet liberal woman who believes that love should always win regardless of its race, color, creed, or orientation. I won’t stand for bashing, slurs, or hate of any kind against human beings who also live outside a black and white box with no room for grace from those who don’t adhere to the principle of “to each his own“.
As I said in the video, while “the pronoun war” is not mine to fight and way over my pay grade, anyone whose flag is different than mine is judgment free and safe in my company. Imma leave that whole ordeal up to The Pro and just pray there will be plenty of grace for me when it’s my turn to step out of that proverbial U-boat in the sky and face my Maker. Good GRIEF is my infraction list gonna take an eternity to comb through.
Lol! And to think that my Cleveland Brown lovin’ friend wasn’t trying to be profound! You see, that’s what made his words profound. In the end, the truth doesn’t require profundity. It’s self-evident. Wake up, my friends! Open up your eyes and welcome to fuckin’ Babylon!
(ps)
Here’s betting that the vast majority of adults who read this, much less today’s “woke but going NOWHERE” kids won’t understand why “you” was spelled “U” in my friend’s “Wake Up U Awoken Ones” post.
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 living nightmares a human being can ever live through, survive, then RISE to tell about:
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.
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.
“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!
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.
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 both 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 literally 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 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 in the mind and faint of any real heart, that the only prey they can run after are the ones even weaker than they are. 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}
There’s a hole in the bucket, dear Liza, dear Liza. There’s a hole in the bucket, dear Liza, there’s a hole. Then fix it, dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry. Then fix it dear Henry, dear Henry, FIX it! With what should I fix it, dear Liza, dear Liza? With what should I fix it, dear Liza, with what?
While I’d originally made this live video this past Wednesday, June 21st, and was planning to drop it here in The Diary that day, while I was scrolling around on the World Wide Web in search of the perfect image as the cover, I happened upon THIS gem diddy of a nugget:
So, I ended up back-dating it a few weeks in honor of it’s this officially official “National Hole In My Bucket Day”! Who woulda ever THUNK IT? Meanwhile, Hi everyone, it’s me, HENRY! While, indeed, it’s true that the proverbial bucket your mama delivered you in was never gonna perfect or pristine once humanity and life in general got a hold of you, you can, indeed, make yourself WHOLE again.
So, grab yourself some metaphorical E600 miracle fix all and start a patchin’, spackelin’ and pluggin’ all those “toxic trait” leaks ASAP!
… but (ps):
In case you didn’t already know this by now, that “miracle adhesive” is the beautifully flawed, EPIC human disaster of a MASTERPIECE you see standing in the mirror, and the manufacturer of that wonder compound is The Master who created you in the first place. Look for His blood-soaked paintbrush, my friends! He’s just waiting to hand you that ever-loving tube of the best permanent cement that is currently not on the market courtesy of His son, Jesus, whose grace and forgiveness are the main ingredients!
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.
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 that 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 utmost power of not giving people the satisfaction of letting them revert you back to the toddler you once were who couldn’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?
Jean-Claude Van DAMN, my kid’s an ACTUAL genius! Meanwhile, just as true as Darwin said that only the strong and most adaptable of a species survive, your goal should be to become the strongest and most adaptable of the strong and adaptable, such that the others have to adapt to you! THAT, my friends, is what will set you far above and apart from even the strongest of “survivors”. Be the one who bends just enough to never ever break, and let them bend to YOU! Just sayin’.
My time is on its’ way … I’ll fall, but I won’t break. The road I walk is paved with broken promises I’ve made. At least a million times I’ve fallen, but NEVER will I break!
I don’t who needs to hear this right now, but NOTHING will destroy a child’s future, if not HUMANITY in general, better than being birthed of the womb of an ACTUAL spawned of the devil “mother THING”.
… 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 again, I’m sorry that I’m not sorry to say 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 a single day as a mom 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 forever, and is, perhaps, the most beautiful of all double-edged swords. Studies have shown:
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.
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.
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)
NOTHING ‘BOUT ME IS ORDINARY!My friends all say I’m going crazy. I don’t hear a word that they say! ‘Cause the voices in my head are legendary, but I’ll never tell ’em where the bodies are buried. Keeps them coming back every day!
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!
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 and SAVING yourself are inside jobs my friends. Yes, they are choices! YES, THEY ARE ALLOWED!
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 fucking gross, I’m tellin’ ya! IT’S GROSS!
Are you malignant “misery” just waiting for a place to happen and don’t even wanna try to get out of your own way and CHOOSE joy? Well, then 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 the fuck home and save us all from YOU!
Lol! Why do you think I keep this little circle of mine so small rather than trying to win a bunch of friends and followers by jumping onto everyone else’s bullshit and misery bandwagons? I’m in this game to KILL it, not to win any popularity contests. Lol, perhaps if I was better at “peopling” or could fake a better personality that mirrors everyone else’s, I’d have a much bigger platform by now. But alas, if it isn’t making me a better person, serving, equipping, fortifying and educating me, or aligning with the path that I’m forging, I’M OUT before I’m IN and want absolutely nothing to do with it!
So, with that, I’mma just be SCREAM singing this epic tune all this live long day today in my ever so carefully curated blissful oblivion and staying focused on the key to MY next open chapter and noone else’s!
(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!
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 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!”
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!
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 gloriousInternational Crow And Raven Appreciation Dayand 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!
… 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:
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!
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?
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!
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:
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.
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 is par for the course with my epic 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 these days? You Jean-Claude Van DAMN betcha! But, you see, I’m not really frozen anymore and don’t think I ever really was, it’s just that I’m really fuckin’ careful who I let into my world with a pick axe!
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.
While there is a lot to be said about determination and perseverance in the art of human survival, let us never cease to pray.
Even if you think that no one “Upstairs” is listening when you pray, there’s a 50% chance that you’re either right or wrong. Trust me when I say that I, too, once had my doubts in the way long years gone by, but through it all I decided that I’d rather err on the side of caution than be caught dead (pun intended) on that paddle boat to Hades on the half of a chance that hell is real. Besides, if all it takes is a mustard seed of faith to call yourself a believer, why not just give praying a try? The way I see it, the only thing you really stand to lose is a deep dive into eternal fire.
And by the way, NO, I’m prolly not the ideal one to be sitting here preaching to ya, ’cause, umm, not only am I the living embodiment of “Jesus For Dummies” if there is such a book in print, I also have a mouth like a frigging sailor and the most unfiltered filter to go with it.
It was December 1995, at the forefront of the crumbling of the fortress around my soul when I heard these most powerful spoken words of Reverend Billy Graham:
Can you see God? Have you ever seen Him? I’ve never seen the wind. I’ve seen the EFFECTS of the wind, but I’ve never seen the wind. Can you see the breeze? There’s a mystery to it.
My point being …
Even when the unbelieving world thinks you’re literally and insane, just trust in the mystery anyway and never stop marching ’round and around those walls until they finally come crumbling down, even if you look like a fool. It’s called “blind faith like a child“, my friend. For the record, I don’t love and adore God because I’m “scared to death” of going to hell … I love Him because He has literally given me everything despite the fact that I do NOT deserve it. “Three strikes and I was in“, and that’s what makes this and every other Easter Sunday a very good day for me and a certifiably CRAZY “Jesus Freak”!
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:
The Diary Of My Perfection 
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