Welcome to my blog. Thank you for reading.
I’m sure that many of you are asking the same questions that I have asked at times, ” Who are you and why should I read your blog???”
I’m just a woman trying to learn how to live the life of my dreams, and I’m aware that after reading my writings you might think I’m arrogant, or silly, or just downright stupid. For a long time, the thought of not being accepted has stopped me from doing the one thing that I love to do most: write.
You know what I realized, though? One day I’m going to die. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe ninety years from now. And nothing anyone thought about anything I did will matter. What will matter is whether I lived my life doing what I thought was best.
So I think it’s best that I write this blog…
Where This Comes From
In about January 2010, after yet another break-up with a man I thought I was going to marry, I had a major breakdown. Nothing in my life made sense any more. I didn’t know what to do or where to go for help. I was crying every day. Over something. Over nothing… I felt like I was just floating in the middle of a vast ocean.
I really don’t know how I made it through that time, but about a year later, in January 2011, I realized that I had made it through the hardest year of my life without dying and so I decided that it might be worth the effort to learn how not to cry every day, since I was gonna be here for a while.
I told a good friend of mine that I was going to do a self-experiment with becoming un-depressed, and he suggested that I write about it while I’m going through it, noting that most people forget what it was like over here when they get to the other side of happy. Sounded good to me, so for a while I did that. I wrote my friend a journal-esque entry every day about my adventures in not crying. That worked out at first, but then it didn’t. So I stopped. In the meantime I learned some things…
We write in our journals and hide them in the deepest, darkest places, closets, drawers, even under our beds, pretending all the while that we don’t want anyone to read them, when truly it is the only thing we really want. For someone to care. For someone to clean out the drawers and find out who we really are…
Why This Comes
My hope for this blog is that it will help. Both you and I. I think the world will be a better place when people can be honest about who they are and get over this notion that we have to be ashamed of the struggles we have been through. We’ve all had issues and oftentimes, our struggles are the greatest catalysts for our forward transformations.
It makes me happy to share my life with others and feel connected to people, and, since I mostly eat dinner by myself these days, I hope that I can come home and tell you how I’m doing. Your interest helps me to be accountable for continuing on an authentic path of integrity …
Structure
This blog started out with two categories, but has since evolved to many sections. It starts with “How Not to Cry Every Day Then”, which are the original writings I sent to my friend when I embarked on this adventure in January 2011, and “How Not to Cry Every Day and then Some”, which are written in real-time. It then continues on to “How to Live With Integrity” “How to Blossom” and on. The topics change as major shifts are made in my life and the current topic is “The Initiation”.
It is organized by days. Although the most current blog is on the top of the page, the story begins with Day 1, and I invite you to read whatever interests you. I started off writing an entry every day, but I have stopped crying every day a while ago, so now I just write when I am inspired, but they are still numbered by days. Every blog heading is titled with something I learned on that particular day, and they are in order from Day 1 until Day…
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There is a place in the in between. The space between a thought and an action. The space where you know that the thought you just thought will come to pass. Insha’ Allah this is going to be good…
It’s my birthday, and I thought I was going to write a post about miracles, but instead I have another story. Going to see if I can make this story a post about miracles before the day is over.
But let me tell you what happened. I’m sitting in a hotel room. A beautiful room. A lake outside in view. My sister is in the shower. She came into town yesterday because both of us thought our lives were going to change.
My sister is in the business of real estate. Earlier this week, I received a text message and call from a guy named David. I know two guys named David. One of them I know professionally, and one of them I haven’t spoken to in eight years.
My sister just got out of the shower and said I don’t have the luxury to contemplate every little abuse unless I want to stay in the house all day… Hmmm… lol!
But I digress. I’m going to tell this story, and then I’m going to go on with my day and have a good birthday. David told me that his neighbor, an 87-yr-old man, was getting rid of all his assets so that he could qualify for a medical program. The old man was selling 5 houses, valued at $600,000 to $900,000 for $50,000 a piece. David asked me if I would like to buy one. I immediately reached out to my sister, and I told David that I would see if I could get some people to loan me the money I needed so that both me and my sister could get a house each.
My dreams were coming true. Me and David talked all week about the houses. I started thinking about what life would be like if I owned a home on another part of town. I thought about what I’d do with all the money I made: I’d finish all my writing projects and actually make them into movies. I’d sublet the apartment I have now so that I could have passive income. I’d take a loan out against my $900k house and use the money to buy several other houses at the auction, sell them until I profited $900k times 9, and keep one house as a rental property. I’d rent out a room in the house I was in, and thereby have at least $7,000 a month in passive income. I would go down south and buy a house and start one of my heal the world projects, where I rent out rooms to college students and give them the support they need to realize their dreams. I’d get started on manufacturing two of the inventions that I have, inventions that will help make the world a better place. I’d find a community of support so that I could keep working on my creative projects and make it fun. I’d buy a nice new wardrobe and shoes that are comfortable, which I’ve needed for a long time. I’d get into the group cellular cleansing program that I’ve wanted to get into for some time. I’d pay off all my college loans and every single ounce of debt I’ve ever had. I’d fix the dents in my magic car… And I would paint and decorate and bless my new home with so much Love….
I’d take a picture in front of my new house and post it on Facebook. The caption would read, “The best birthday gift ever. Miracles of God are real”….
Well, you’ve probably guessed by now that me and my sis didn’t get the houses we thought we were going to buy. My sister flew into town yesterday in order to give the money and sign the paperwork for her house. She and I had tapped into all the resources we could find, dipped into savings, loaned, borrowed and begged in order to get this money to invest in an opportunity that would change our lives forever. We were in constant communication with David. We went to the bank to get my sister’s money out. She was giving $20,000 in cash – all of her savings – and getting a loan for the remainder of the $30,000. We were to meet David and the old man at one of the houses, and then go to the court house to sign off on all paperwork.
So David sends the address where we should meet. As we drive up, we realize that it’s a Home Depot. David says that we are meeting there in order for him to get some lumber that he’s supposed to give to the old man, and that all four of us will meet there, and then we’ll drive to the house. So, me and my sister arrive. David is not there. It’s almost 4p.
David calls and says that he’s running late, but he needs to pick up the lumber from his friend before his friend gets off at 4p. He asks if we can pick up the lumber for him, and we say yes.
So his friend, who says his name is Brian, comes out of the store and tells us where to park. David is on the phone with us. Brian tells David that the lumber costs $21,600, and all he needs is the money and he’ll give us the lumber… You know where this is going. David tries to convince us to give his friend $20,000, and as soon as he arrives he will give us our $20k back. He asks his friend to loan the other $1,600. His friend agrees.
My sister is the one who has the $20,000 and the pressure is on her. She is not feeling comfortable with giving this dude $20k in exchange for some lumber, on the promise that David is going to come through and pay us back. She and David go back and forth on the phone until finally she agrees, but she says that she is going to walk with the Home Depot guy into the store, and if the guy tries to run off with our money, she and I are going to tackle him. When the Home Depot guy hears this, he gets very nervous. His hands start shaking and he tells David to hear what we said.
David gets on the speaker phone and we agree on how we are going to do the money/wood transfer. I’m about to hand over the money to the Home Depot guy, who says he is the manager of the store, but then I think, “What would I do if this was my money?” I tell the Home Depot guy to hold on. I’m going to make a phone call. I call Home Depot and ask them for the name of the manager of the store. While I am on the phone asking for the name of the manager, and while my sister is standing outside of the car, preparing to walk with the Home Depot guy into the store, the Home Depot guy tells us to hold on. He says he is going to go into the store and figure out if there is a way for him to get us the lumber without us having to pay the $20k up front.
He walks into the store. We call David. David’s number is disconnected…
We make a report to Home Depot. We call the police to try and report the scam, but the police says that since we weren’t actually scammed – we didn’t give the guy the money – no crime was committed, and they get so many instances like ours that they don’t file a report unless a crime was committed. The police agree to send an escort out so that my sis can put her money back in the bank without us getting robbed by David and his goons on the way…
We could have gone back to my apartment afterwards, but I have a stupid roommate who is living there, who hasn’t spoken to me in at least two weeks, since I gave him his notice to move-out. So my sister used her hotel points for us to come spend the night escaping the tragedy that happened yesterday.
And here I am. On my birthday. There is no house and no Facebook pic talking about the goodness of God. Instead, there are feelings of sadness and betrayal, questions about the nature of life and reality. I am wondering if there is really a war between good and evil in the world or if there is no good and no evil. I am trying to make sense of all the things that don’t make sense to me, but they are still not making sense to me.
I thought I was getting a miracle gift for my birthday, but instead I got my hopes up higher than ever for my life and ended up almost getting scammed. My sister almost got scammed for all of her savings and it would have been my fault. And now, I am wondering what I should say about this birthday.
My life is back to what it was before the thought of miraculous change. What if I allow for a miracle gift anyway? I do have the luxury to contemplate every little abuse, and I believe that, for me, it’s necessary to deal with things as they arise, otherwise they will eat me up inside, but I can let this abuse go now. That is what I will do now. For my birthday. Choose.
That is the only gift we always have. Choice. I can choose to let this little abuse, and every other little abuse go. That is the miracle that I am allowing for on this day. To hold fast to the goodness of God. To be strong in a different kind of way. To keep my hopes up higher than ever before and take action on the vision that my scammers allowed to be real for me. To let every little abuse be an opportunity to let go, to grow and to accept the miraculous change that pulls me ever forward… Amen… Happy Birthday to me.
Day 493
Every Little Abuse (The Luxury to Contemplate)
Lord have mercy. My heart is all over the place. I’m procrastinating a bit. I think I’m having a bit of anxiety. About moving forward… I need help, God. Sometimes the emotional stuff that happens is too heavy for me to bear on my own. I need a friend. I really need a true friend.
I am in the library and some old man is looking at me with interest. I want to scream. I am tired of old men looking at me with interest. AAAAAAAAAAAGH!!!!!
So, what happened since my last blog entry is that I spoke with three different people. The first was a guy who I’ve been flirting with for over 8 years. Many moons ago, we worked a customer service type job together. There was chemistry between us, but he was living with his ex-girlfriend and I was in limbo because my boyfriend Dream Lover had disappeared off of the face of the Earth and had been MIA for about four months… As I think about this, I’m thinking, “What a load of shit. How you gon’ be someone’s boyfriend and speak all these promises to them and then just drop off the face of the Earth?”. But I digress. I met this guy at work. We liked each other but we never pursued each other because we both had too much going on in our lives. After a while, he decides he’s moving to New York to be a musician. He packs his bags and leaves. After he gets to New York, he calls me and tells me about how much he’s into me, asks if I’d be willing to come out to New York to be with him. I tell him I’ll consider it. He becomes unreachable by phone for the next week. I get mad at him for being unreachable and send him an angry email. He sends me an angry email back and then stops responding to any of my attempts to contact him. For six years. A couple years ago, he finally responded to a message I sent him. We talked and apologized about stuff. He says he’s still into me, but he’s always dating someone out in NY. I’m always dating but not dating someone in LA…
I realize that I’m always dating but not dating someone in LA, and this pattern of always having some kind of man around who is covertly trying to be my man while I ignore the fact that he’s covertly trying to be my man because I just want some company and don’t want to be alone actually gets in the way of me really being in a relationship with anyone. There are too many “man doors” open in my life. Anyone serious about me doesn’t think I’m serious about them, and if I’m being really honest with myself, I can see why. I can see that I’ve been dating but not dating many of the men I call friends. I’m not having sex with them, but I’m acting like their girlfriend. They’re acting like my boyfriend. They’re making romantic plans for me, and I’m acting like I don’t know about it and hoping they never say anything out loud so we can keep hanging out together, and all the while the energy remains. The pulling. The guilt… So, the other day, I decided that I was going to either break up with or commit to all of my non-boyfriends.
I should tell you that this is a very hard thing for me to do, because there’s no one else in my life. There’s no one else here. Yes, I have family, but my family is far away and most of them are either not willing or not able to give the emotional support I need in my life. They have their own lives and their own beliefs about living life with people. In spite of my mother’s best preachings that we should be there for each other as siblings, we ultimately from her actions to not ask people for help and to give help from a distance, but not to live life with anyone except for our husbands/wives and kids. We also learned to trust no outsiders. When you grow up and get married, outsiders are now anyone outside of your new family, including sibs…
I am feeling sad, Allah. I don’t want to write about this stuff, but I’m going to write about it because it’s making my heart heavy and I need to let it go.
So, there is no one in my life who I’m particularly close to except for my non-boyfriends. My women friends are gone. We grew apart, meaning I grew and they became insecure and jealous. I don’t know how to feel about all these things. I don’t know what to do about all these things. I want to reach out to my female friends and say, “Hey! Come be my friend. I need someone to talk to. I need someone to go places with. I need someone to do all my myriad self-help programs with and eat dinner with,” but I know that they don’t want to listen to whatever it is I have to say. They need someone to talk to and just want someone who’s going to listen to them blab on and on about themselves. They are not going to go any place with me just because I need company. They only go places they want to go when they want to go. They are not going to do any self-help programs with me because they don’t want to, and they are not going to eat dinner with me, because that’s more intimacy than they can handle. But they are going to want me to jump, hop and skip and do all those things with and for them when they get the notion. And to add insult to injury, they’re going to get jealous and maybe even try to mess me over if I tell them that anything good is going on with me. And yet I have deep bonds with these women. And yet I Love them. And yet a part of me misses them, but I don’t really believe that they have the capacity to be good friends, so I stay away in my little lonely bubble… And I am not at peace with that decision, either.
I am wondering if I should continue writing this blog. It is already too long and there is much more to say.
Yes, Spirit says, go ahead and finish writing.
So. If I get rid of all my non-boyfriends, then I have no one here. No support. My family will probably send me money if I need it, but no emotional support. No one to live life with. No one who champions me. No one to share my successes with. No one whose presence is comforting… If I keep my non-boyfriends around, though, and don’t make a decision to actually close those doors, I know that I will never have a real boyfriend, much less a husband.
I wonder if I really want a husband. I wonder if I want anything. This is where the rabbit hole goes when I feel low…
I was praying the other day and asking for guidance on so many things, and the message I got was, “Follow the energy of Love.”
My birthday is coming up next week, and if I dump my non-boyfriends before then, then I might not have anyone do anything for me for my birthday. LOL! These are real considerations.
But back to the story. The three things that have happened since my last entry. Young Blood (what I’m calling the guy I mentioned before because he’s young). We talked about being together. Long talk. Talked about coming or going to visit each other so we could see if things could work out. Talked about how we have this chemistry between us that could possibly mean that either of us are “the one”. Got somewhat excited. Texted each other and said we’d see each other within a month, but then I said my prayers. And everything changed. “Follow the energy of Love” was the message I kept receiving. “Open your heart and follow your heart.” I looked at Young Blood. The energy of Love wasn’t there. Sure, he could be a great guy and is a great guy, but right now he is bitter and closed up. Right now he is running away from being in relationship with anyone. And yes, I could do like the movies and go towards him and maybe if I love him enough, he will learn to trust and open up and we could have something magical, but the whole endeavor feels exhausting. I’m not interested anymore, but I haven’t told him yet. Emotional blow #1.
Number 2. Yesterday I got a message from someone close to me. This person is the person whom I had a big blow-out with in February. We had this blow-out because I agreed to help this person with something for an amount of time. Our communication wasn’t clear when we made the agreement, and I thought the amount of time that I was supposed to help was shorter than the amount of time that she thought. When I realized we had a misunderstanding or the commitment, I didn’t address it with her. Instead, I addressed it with her partner because I was scared of her and didn’t want to confront her. When her partner told her about my misunderstanding, long story short, she made new plans to find help and then told everyone that I was going to bail out on her and forced her to make new plans and the situation just escalated and escalated. It ended up with a physical altercation and me ending the help arrangement. Me and said person have spoken since our situation in February, but our relationship hasn’t been healed. In my opinion, she only sees me as a tool for her use and doesn’t give a shit about me, or anyone else for that matter. She only cares about other people when she’s feeling bored, which is hardly ever. So anyway, this person reached out to me yesterday and asked me to do something for her. She ain’t checked on me since I left the help situation. She ain’t called to see how I’m doing. I can literally count on two fingers the amount of times she has ever just called to offer anything to me, even a word of advice, and I have known her many, many years… I am angry and hurt. I don’t want to do shit for her. This is the truth. I also wish I didn’t feel this way. I wish I knew how to forgive all the way, but I don’t think that’s the problem. I think the problem is, what happens after you forgive? What happens after you forgive people and they are still assholes, but you still love them and you still want to be a part of their life? That’s the real question. She’s still an asshole. She will still try and use you if you come too close. She will still feel like her problems are more important than yours, no matter how bad off you are, and she will still ask you for shit and treat you bad while you’re helping her. And although working in tandem with her might help both of us grow in ways, I’m not really interested. I don’t think she’s interested in me being her teacher right now, and I’m not really interested in her being mine. I’m interested in Love, reciprocity and harmony. For some reason, she is interested in me being there for her. She wants me to approve of her, Spirit whispers to me. She wants me to forgive her wholly. She wants me to know that even though she is about as selfish as they come, she loves me as much as she can… She wants me to accept that. I will work on it
Third situation. Went to get a massage yesterday. One of my non-boyfriends, whom I actually intentionally dated some years ago, is a massage therapist. The Old Prophet. He made it to this blog many years ago. We only dated a few months, and have been broken up for about three years, and we’ve made peace with each other since then. He works at this store where he gives massages, and every now and then I go there and get a massage from him. Yesterday I went to get a massage, and he had just gotten done packing up. I ran into him in the parking lot. He started looking at me all funny and when I asked him what was going on, he said, he was thinking about the way things could have been between us. He’s dating and living with another woman now, but he said that he had waited a long time for me before he got in another relationship. He said that I was everything he was looking for in a woman, and in his whole life, he has never had a deeper connection with another woman. We talked about our lives, and this is what broke something in my feelings. He said, that, for where I am in my life, what I need is support. He said, that when we were together, he had been saving up money so that we could move in together and he could pay for everything while he supported me in my career… It broke me down in tears and I am in tears now because what he said is so true. He understood. He was always good at understanding the deeper things. I needed support. I need support. So many people look at support as usury, and it is usury when it is usury, but I am not talking about usury.
We were taught not to ask for things. How dare I think that I deserve to just have some random person come up in my house and help me clean and help me cook and help me sort out my papers and be with me to help encourage me to write and hold me when I cry and listen to me when I talk about my day and celebrate me when I do cool stuff and celebrate me even when I don’t do cool stuff and go places with me and do other things that I can’t even think of.
We were taught that we are the givers of these things. It sounds so backwards when I write it down. We were taught that we are the ones that are supposed to do these things for other people, but if we have other people do it for us, or, God forbid, if we actually seek out other people just so they can do these things for us, we are usurious bastards and we are bad people.
I don’t know how I feel about all of these beliefs I was implanted with. Some of them have not served me well. I’m not even mad at the people who did the seeding. They believed what they believed in order to survive in this world… But the Old Prophet understood. The reason he and I didn’t make it very far in our relationship at the time was that he was an asshole. I met him right around the time I had started getting sick, and he had so many fears about being used, etc. etc. that he didn’t really help much with my sick issues and was really mean to me at the time. He has grown since then, but it is too late for us. He is still willing to let his pride or other considerations get in the way of being there for me when I’m in need. But, he has grown…
Those three incidents kind of busted my happy bubble and got me all caught up with tears again. As I write, the tears are leaving and my head and heart are getting clear.
I need support. I need to accept and forgive and heal from the things in the past. Oh yeah. In addition to my non-boyfriends, I have one guy that I’m actually dating. It is understood between the two of us that I’m actually getting to know him with the possibility of being his woman. But he messed around and fell in love with me the other day. I saw it in his eyes. And I’m not in love with him. And I don’t know if he’s “the one”. I think he’s more not “the one” than “the one”, but I’m not sure. But I don’t want to lead him on and/or hurt him, because regardless if he is “the one”, he has been good to me and deserves Love. I want to keep him safe, God. How do I proceed?
Mind blown on any answers on much, but asking the questions and writing it out have at least gotten rid of the hurting of my chest and made me aware of what I need. I need Love. I need support. I need to give Love. I need to give support. I need to heal and forgive completely and let go of all these attachments to my non-boyfriends from the past and shift relational dynamics where possibly. I need to intend harmony with all my relations… Tall order, Indeed. I’m committed, though. I’m really committed to moving forward and I will listen, God. I will follow. I will follow… I will follow the energy of Love.
Day 492
The Energy of Love (Support)
Hey. I’m at the writer’s library in LA. I didn’t really sleep last night. Spent the night doing a writing session with my writing partner until the wee hours, and then went out to my yoga class at 4am, then went to the park and stretched and exercised, meditated, read my daily uplifting book, ate breakfast, parked in front of the writer’s library, took about an hour nap in my car, and voila! Here I am.
It’s 11:30am and I want to write about time, focus and energy. I can’t keep up with all the events that happen in my life from day to day, but the other day, I had a profound realization: I choose most of them.
I haven’t worked a 9 to five job in three years. Two of those three years, I was sick and almost completely nonfunctional, so I won’t count that time. But for about a year, I have been relatively healthy, and I have not worked a 9 to 5 job or generally worried about how I will eat, and in this past year, I have been so ridiculously busy and my life has been full of so much activity that it doesn’t even make sense. You see, I wake up in the morning and decide exactly what I want to do with my day.
If I wanted, I could watch TV all day. I could learn gardening or ballet. I could work at a thrift store, like I did last week. I could get involved in a relationship and have sex all day or browse the internet. I could do yoga or decide I want to write script and movies and stories and blogs. I could skip cities or states or countries and move in with some family member or friend somewhere… The list goes on and on and on… The other day I realized that I am just ridiculously busy, and I had to pause and ask myself what I’m doing with my time.
In her 21 day meditation program that just ended, Oprah recommends that you spend time doing what lifts you up and what bring you love… Most of us don’t realize that we have this choice.
We can literally stop what we’re doing, unplug from the nightmare that is our life, and do something different with our time; doing something slower; do something that lifts us up and brings us Love; do something that makes us feel like we have lived a life well spent…
I came to this realization the other day. The spell over my life has been broken, and I see so many things, so many erroneous choices I’ve made.
How shall I spend my life now? What should I do with this time? Do you know what I want to do the most? Love somebody. I’m not even necessarily talking about a man. I’m talking about anyone who will receive this love without punching me or recoiling. I finally discovered my superpower: Love. I remember, sometime in my youth, I was a very Loving and caring girl. Life put a spell on me and made me forget, but I remember now.
I don’t want to be running back and forth to and fro, fighting people and being alone. I want to Love people. I want people to Love me. I want to laugh like a giddy little girl, like my nieces and nephews laugh when they are having fun. I want my heart to be free for this part of my life. Forgive everyone.
And yes, I want to give stuff to the world. Cool stuff. Fun stories. Things that excite people and make them marvel and think and want to live. Inventions. Spaces that create connection. I want to leave a piece of my heart here when I die. I didn’t know that I was a prolific artist, writer and entrepreneur. It has taken me so long to know who I am and what I came here to do. I guess if I hadn’t experienced so much pain early on, then I wouldn’t be able to see how much pain so many others are in, and how much we are all lacking in Love.
I want to start over. I want to pack my bags and go somewhere where my heart will be received. I want to partner with someone(s) who understand where I’m coming from, who know that there is just no more time to be running to and fro, making a mess of our lives. I want to hold hands with someone fearless who can quit a job and not fall apart. I am just now thinking of all these thoughts as I’m sitting in the writer’s library, and tears are streaming down my face.
How will I transform my lonely, miserly life into these words I’m writing? I know, it’s a tall order, especially starting from where I’m starting, but I’m going to start. I didn’t know that I had so much to give and share with the world. I thought I was a nothing, you see? But I’m not.
I’ve got so much Love to share. I’ve got so much Love to give. I finally get it. I’ve got so many brilliant ideas, and I’m ready now… It’s time to Live.
Day 491
Time, Focus and Energy (Time To Live)
My mind is all jumbled up and I’ve been procrastinating for the past three hours or so. There’s so much to do… Feel like the lady from the glass menagerie. Real stuff.
Not quite sure how I feel. Not quite sure what I think. Only know that I am unmoored. Nothing like I used to be. I think I have lived about four years worth of life in these past four months. It has not been easy. It has been hard. The hardest ever. On the outside, my life looks easy. I travel a lot. I always seem to have money and food and I have a decent sized apartment by myself in a newly gentrified area of Los Angeles. There is always some man around taking me out on dates.
Inside, though, I have been suffering. I have been confused. I have not known how to deal with all of the grief I’ve been experiencing these past few months. I don’t know how to rebuild after the storm. And the worst part of it all, which I am discovering, is that nobody knows.
Something happens to grown-ups when we reach a certain age. Somewhere between 22 and 28, and for some people much sooner, we forget. We forget everything. Someone breaks our hearts. We suffer some deep disappointment, and we stop. We stop being honest. We stop Loving. We forget about everything that we wanted to do with our lives. Our mantra becomes survival. And this lasts for a while. For some people survival is a mantra for life. But for most, there comes a time when something happens and you see that there is more to life than survival and you have to make a choice, which is where I am. I have to make a choice. And it’s a hard choice. I have to choose to live or die. Rather, it is not a choice of living or dying, but a choice of surviving or thriving.
I am looking at my life, and looking at all I have done with this time on Earth, and I am not satisfied.
I am in my dirty thirties, and although I can congratulate myself for some things, mostly I am not satisfied with what I have done with my time on Earth. Where did all the time go? It is like I have been under a spell for many, many years, just going to and fro. And I look around, and so many people are under their own spells, just going to and fro, trying to survive. Hurting each other all along the way. I look around at the world, and most of us are very small, scared creatures. Even myself.
I have been a very small, scared creature, too. I am brave in my own way. I have been brave, too, but I have not broken free from my deepest fears. Until now. I am just beginning to break free. How do you break free, though, God? How does one break free? I miss my friends. I want to call them, tell them happy birthday, see them, help them, spend time with them, but whenever I do, I am brought back to the darkness that was us. I want to call my sis, ask her how she’s doing, but she will be just as guarded and suspicious as she’s always been and probably ask me to do something for her… I want to go and hang out with my favorite best friend, but he can’t help himself. He find a way to betray me and look at me like he’s just tasted a bad thing. I want to do my nails with my female friend, but I know that after about thirty minutes, she will dive deep into her neuroses and begin comparing herself with everyone, start smoking up a storm, and then look at me like her food while I suffer. I want to go and walk on the grass with my angel of a friend, but he will fall in Love with me and I won’t marry him, so I choose not to lead him on.
And this is where we are today. Alone. I have been here a while. I just didn’t know it. And I am thinking of rebuilding, but I am trying to build a thing on my own and so few people know how to build it – Love. Fulfillment. Happiness.
Take me where the giants are, Allah. Is it all a lie? These books I read about Love and happiness and peace and fulfillment. Is it all a lie? Take me where the giants are. I am tired of this little, small life. I need help. Take me where the giants are. The man I met – the abusive one – he had the right idea, but the wrong execution, and he was abusive. But he understood something most people don’t. He understood how hard it is – how deep you have to go – how real you have to go if you really want to change your life.
Allah, I am petitioning you. I know You know the way. I know you know the answer. My little, small life won’t do anymore. The other day, I looked at a man and thought about how much I would like to Love someone. Just be there for someone. Breathe life into him. Give him a safe space to call home. Not just anyone, though. Not these stupid busters who don’t understand what it is to Love and appreciate a diamond. Someone special. Someone kind. Someone integrous. That is the word for the day. That is what I seek to be. Integrous. Integrous. Integrous…
I am tired of holding all this baggage in my heart. I am tired of all the sadness and confusion. I am tired of being so small. When I say small, I am not talking about my influence in the world or my money. I am talking about my Love. I am talking about how little I Love. How did my big, big heart become such a small and closed up thing, with so little going in and so little going out? How can I Love all these assholes that I used to call friends? From a distance, You say. Love them by letting them go and letting them grow…
Sometimes I wonder if the voices in my head are from God or if I’m just making it all up. I view life like the character on Life of Pi. I don’t know what is true or what is not true. All I know is that I have to pick something. Choose something. You understand? It doesn’t matter if the Guidance I hear comes from God or it comes from the voices in my head. I choose to follow the Guidance I receive from within. It is a dangerous choice, I know. There are books and religions and so many things that have come before me with so much Guidance. And sometimes the voices in my head lead me to those books and those religions…
Something in me feels like this part of my life is serious and important. There is no more time to play with bullshit men and relationships. There is no more time to be small and pathetic and just crying every day without taking action. There is no more time to withhold so much Love. Show me where I can Love, Allah. Show me what I must build. There is no more time to be sitting around waiting for heroes. Yes, support will come. Friends will come. A man will come. Family relationships will find their way to peace… I miss them, Allah. I miss having relationships like Oprah described, relationships that are comfortable, easy, filled with light and laughter and consoling when I am down…
You tell me to go ahead and do the things I need to do now. The relationships will come. Work on being integrous for now. Work on letting Love in and letting Love out. You are right. This part is not a part you can do on your own. Work on being discerning and learning who it is you need to build with now. You will know them when you find them. Open your heart to them. Open your heart to them. It will not take so long like you think. Have faith, my sweet, sweet child. Choose to be there now. Choose to be here now. Be there, in this space of Love. Be this space of Love. Move into integrity now. Life will rebuild itself around your integrous intention.. And so it will. And so I will.. Ameen.
Day 490
This Part of My Life (Integrity)
Almost three months later… I am still feeling sad. LOL. I just read my last blog entry, which I made almost three months ago. It has been a while. The sadness got worse, but has lifted a bit today… Don’t even know where to start with this post except to say that the winter has been cold and harsh.
I am tempted to lay over and go to sleep. Put the pillow in place, but I am forcing myself to sit up and write something and push “publish” before I go to sleep. It’s 2:21am. What have I been running from? Why have I written so many unfinished posts in the past few months but published none? There has been too much going on and I was sick of my sorry life. I went from sad to bad to worse.
And now, after getting assaulted by someone close to me down south, and then coming back to LA and getting verbally assaulted by a man who demanded that I slap my own face (I didn’t do it) before telling me what a piece of shit I am (in so many words), I am officially done with this part of my life. It has all gone too far. That’s all I have to say about that.
The bed beckons me again. I pulled my blanket out and almost leaned over, but didn’t. It means I’m trying to run from something painful. What is it, God? I am willing to face it. I am willing to face it. I am willing to face it. Please carry me through to the other side. I am willing to go through it.
My heart has been broken. It has been breaking for the past three months. I feel sorry for myself. I feel sorry for so many people like me. Us sensitive souls who are born into the most harsh of situations. It’s like it’s some kind of cruel joke. Take the most sensitive and kind of empaths and place them in a families of narcissistic, abusive, controlling, egomaniacs who don’t give a shit about them and see how they turn out. I am angry a bit, but not that much. I don’t understand it all. I don’t understand why my life has been so painful.
I don’t understand why someone assaulted me or why a man was sitting across from me yelling and trying every which way to break. me. down. Oh, there goes the bed again. Ooooh, wee. Is it because I’m a smart alec? I don’t say too much, but people always try to test me and I am good at knowing the words that cut. I always see people’s bullshit and lies miles away. Have a harder time seeing my own. It’s my gift and curse.
So, I think I’m trying to go to sleep and not write this blog entry because I have nothing profound to say. I have no answers to anything. A lot has happened since my last entry, but mostly it’s been me fighting people and people fighting me and me feeling like shit. Oh, I also wrote a new script with a writing partner and that process was fun and tormenting. Met men. Someone offered to pay me to be his girlfriend. He was gonna whisk me away and move me to the rich part of town, pay all our bills and buy all our food, and give me a hefty monthly allowance. I had to put in up to 14 hours a week doing housewife type stuff: cooking, cleaning, giving him a massage. Sounded like a grand plan. Except he wanted me to slap my own face. And when he did offensive stuff, he just wanted to not address it and say “It’s a new day. That’s the past.” And he wanted to tell me that I can’t sell my scripts to Hollywood. I think that’s what did it. I know. Him telling me to slap my own face wasn’t enough. Him lying about stuff and being mean as hell wasn’t enough. This bitch told me that I can’t sell my scripts to Hollywood and then started talking about odds and statistics. And when I think of it, on our first date, I remember when I told him I was a writer, he opened up his mouth and asked me how I made money. By writing, bitch!
Can you tell I’m a little upset? There’s a lot of curse words in this entry, and I haven’t even been around a lot of potty mouths lately. Please forgive me. I do believe I’m a little angry.
My mom just came out of the room to ask me if I stay up this late writing every night. Yeah, my mom is here. Don’t ask. It’s been a long winter…
The bed beckons. The demons grin. You will not win tonight. My energy is drained. Why is life so hard? Why are there demons and mothers and men and friends to fight? When will I be safe here? When does this all end? I long to relax. I long to be held. I long to feel safe here in this world. A friend tells me to imagine that the Dora Milaje, the women soldiers from the movie Black Panther, are surrounding me and walking with me wherever I go.
My dear God, you said I am your Beloved. The ones who were to protect me tried to hurt me, and I am so hurt, Allah. I am so disappointed. I am so heartbroken to know that it has always been this way. We have always been this small…
The bed is really calling me. I want to push delete on this whole entry because I think it’s dumb. I recognize that I have a lot of negative thoughts going through my head. I want to not publish this so folks don’t judge me. I want to not put negative thoughts out into the world. I realize that I’m probably tripping out right now and being a little extra. My mom didn’t go back to sleep. She’s up in the room making noise. I want a magical man who’s not abusive to whisk me away and take me into the experience of a new life…
I could go on and on whining and talking about all the horrible thoughts in my head. If I keep on long enough, I’m going to push delete and not publish this. What I wanted to do today is write because it has been a long time and I have not been sharing myself or keeping track of my thoughts, or really sorting out my thoughts that much. My hands are trembling and I feel like throwing up. I don’t want anyone to feel sorry for me… Lawdamercy. My mom is calling me from the room. You gotta be kidding me. My mom just came back from a trip and is staying with me for a few days. She is sick with a cold. You gotta be kidding me, God.
Ok. I know there is some lesson to be learned from these past few months of shitterling happenings. I know there is a through line somewhere that I am missing. You know what I’m gonna do? I’m gonna push publish on this blog, I’m gonna keep living, surrender to the moment at hand, be present, imagine good things, and intend to allow for the highest possible good of the collective in every action that I take. It is so much easier to do these things when I don’t feel like shit. I guess that the point. Good night, world.
Day 489
Untitled
Hey y’all. Your girl’s over here suffering. Don’t feel sorry for me. There are worse things happening in the world than a sad woman sitting in an apartment in LA.
My brain is on overload. Now I see why people drink and do drugs. I kind of want to stop thinking about things for a while and stop feeling the way I feel. I won’t, do drugs or go to my tried and true escape mechanisms, though (relationships and sleep). Instead, I will write a blog.
I want to share something. I was listening to a recording from one of my spiritual mentors today, and on it, she said that the reason so many of us are in so much pain is because we are not living the lives we are here to live. That resonated with me. It’s like there’s a little whisper in your heart somewhere telling you to do and be and say and experience and create a thing, but you are not doing it. You don’t know how to do it. And so you are in pain.
The catch 22 is, because you are in pain, you don’t do the thing that is whispering to you to be done. You find ways to ease or avoid your pain. You work very hard at trying to get rid of that gnawing in your belly and the tremors in your heart. And that becomes a life.
So, I’ve been feeling really sad this week. I’ve been feeling really sad for a little over a month, but most of the time, I’ve been engaged in battle with friends. Now, for the past five days, I’ve been here by myself processing everything. My first instinct was to run and find something to ease my pain. Make a new friend. Go to sleep. Go to one of the hundreds of social and film events that happen in LA every week. Work a job that I could care less about… I didn’t do all those things this time, though. This time, I just let myself feel as sad as I feel. And I haven’t felt this sad in a while. It’s been almost a year since I’ve felt this low…
My mind wants to grasp onto something stable, but there is nothing. I want to go back to the religion of my youth, where everything made sense. Read this book, do what it says, be good and you will get a reward of everlasting bliss when you die. It’s easy. I wish I believed it again. I pretty much live the same lifestyle of the people of my childhood religion, but not for the same reasons as them…
My mind has been looking for a way to get out of this feeling of sadness. My mind has been looking for a way to come back to the world of the alive people. I have been hearing lectures and having conversations with people about how to be happy. One spiritual path says seek and welcome the mothering aspect of God into my life. Surrender to her and she will fix everything… Maybe.
A question arises in my mind, though. Can I be sad? Can I just be sad until I’m not? Must I strive so much to feel a thing that I don’t feel right now? Why are we always running away from sadness? Surely sadness has a purpose, too. I don’t know it’s purpose, but I’m tired of running from it for now. If I am sad, it is because I am sad. There is pain in me needing to be released. Sadness is a messenger.
But what is the message?
We try so hard to make so much meaning out of everything. A friend says that the message is, I shouldn’t eat cake anymore. Another person says that the reason I am sad is because I don’t have many true friends. Someone else says it’s because I have too many friends and I need to learn to be alone. Another says I need to get married. Someone else says I need a hug. I need a child. I need a new religion. I need my old religion. There is too much sage in my house. There is not enough sage. They say I am sad because I need more money. I am sad because I have too much money and I’m idle because of it. I need to exercise more. I exercise too much. They say I am sad because I need to work on my passion. They say I am sad because I need to forget about passion and this foolish notion that we all have a passion and purpose. Follow the book. They say I am sad because I don’t follow the book. I need more sunlight, they say, or Vitamin D pills at least…
And what do I say? Why am I so sad? The reason is none of the above and all of the above. The reason I am so sad is because I haven’t been able to make meaning of it all. And the meanings that I used to make just aren’t resonating with me anymore. I am sad because the fairytale is over – my naive eyes have opened up, and I see the darkness in the world. I see the darkness within me. I am sad because I am grown up now, and I can’t pretend not to know what I know… I am sad because there is no one to reach out to – no one knows the answer. Most people are trying very hard just to survive. Just to survive. Just to eat and breathe and run away from sadness. I am sad because how is it that this is our world? My innocent eyes are opening up.
I am sad because I am losing my innocence and seeing things for what they are – the good, the bad, the ugly, the beautiful, the indifferent. It took me long enough…
I am sad because I lost my best friend and, although I know he love me deeply and I love him deeply, I can’t figure out a way to be close to him without being hurt. I’m heartbroken about being betrayed by the one person whom I expected kindness from…
I’m sad because I changed. Somewhere along the way, I changed. I became someone who I don’t recognize. Not in a bad way. I don’t know if it’s a bad way or a good way, but it is what it is. I’m not interested in going back to the way I used to be, but I’m not quite sure who I’m becoming…
I don’t want to lie anymore. I don’t want to make believe. I don’t want to try and make sense of a thing just so it can make sense. I don’t want to say, “Oh. I’m learning all these lessons and growing and unfolding and the people around me are going to have to grow and unfold and I’m experiencing dissonance and that why I’m sad,” etc etc… or “I’m getting stronger so I can live out my destiny and do something magical and I’m going to need to know how to overcome sadness so I can help some sad person in the future, so that’s why I’m sad.” I don’t want to say those things, because maybe they are true and maybe they are not. Someone could just as easily say, “I’m sad because I forsook my childhood religion and now I’m being punished,” or “I’m sad because I’m letting go of friends who have been there for me in the past.” You understand?
I am feeling sad. That’s it. This is what I want to share for the day. I’m feeling sad. There’s no need to fix it. There’s no need to change it. It will change itself. There’s no need to make it mean so many things. It’s not as complicated as we make it. I interacted with certain people and I felt sad. I don’t know why. They betrayed me, but their betrayal was so small. It wasn’t enough to make a person cry for a month on end. But it triggered something in me that had already been so hurt for so long, something that is deeper than my understanding of it.
What is also true is that I want to be alive. I can be sad and also be alive. I don’t want to run from my feelings anymore, you understand? I have been running for such a long time. I want to face what’s in me and give it a chance to come out now. I want to give it a chance to heal now. I want to heal now. For real.
I’m writing this because I realize that I’ve had this notion in my head. I’ve had this notion that I have to be happy and feel all these good things in order to get off the bed, but it’s not true. I can cry and still write a script. I can cry and send out emails. I can cry and make money. I can even cry and be nice to people. I can cry and clean up my house and eat nourishing food. I can cry and go out and get sun for the day. I can cry and exercise. I can cry and be open to Love and be Loving to people. I can cry and be a part of the visible world… It doesn’t have to be one thing or the other…
I would like to believe that the sadness passes, but what if doesn’t? What if you can’t make meaning of it? What if there are too many things that it could mean? What do you do then? I say we still keep living. It might be hard. It might be heavy. Somewhere in your heart and mind there is something that you’ve been needing and wanting to do. Do it now. Don’t make it hard. Don’t make it heavy and burdensome. Don’t set a schedule that you know you won’t stick to it. Don’t force yourself to be all enthusiastic and gung-ho about it. You’re not enthused. You’re feeling sad and bummed out. It’s ok. You’re confused and you don’t know why this shit is happening to you. You don’t know what you did wrong. You don’t know what you did right. You don’t know how to fix anything. You don’t know what steps to take. It’s ok.
Know what you know. There are a few things that you know. They have nothing to do with what he said or she said or religion or guilt or love or hate or desperation or survival. They are things that you know you are supposed to do. Little things like making your bed up or maybe big things like ending or starting a relationship. You know because you know because you know that this is what you need to do now. You’ve known it for a while. Do it. Don’t make it mean anything. Just do it.
Love you,
xo Laydie
Day 488
On Making Meaning (Living With Sadness)
I just wrote a whole blog putting myself selfish friends on blast, and deleted it…
I’ve been trying to write a blog for some days now, and keep deleting stuff. I’ll post this one, no matter what comes out.
I’ve been heartbroken and sad, feeling betrayed by my closest friends, feeling alone, and feeling like people just keep me in their lives because they think they can get stuff from me. They don’t even understand the concept of just giving and just feeding another without an interest in gain.
I’ve been wondering if I want to keep so many asshole selfish people in my circle, and I’ve been conflicted. On the one hand, there have been times when these people have been there for me, and they would try to be there for me again if I really needed it. On the other hand, the emotional cost of relating to them is high. They will be selfish. They will try to use you. They will hurt you. They will compete with you. They will have a hard time really being happy for your success. They will not feel compelled to be there for you and support you unless you are really, really dying. And for reasons that they’re probably not even aware of, they won’t really be truly happy or truly comfortable around you. There will always be a slight guardedness.
I’m realizing how people in the world see me. They don’t see me like I see myself. They either think I’m super lucky and super smart and charmed and successful, or they think I’m a super loser and delusional. I don’t think I’m either.
I’m feeling angry and sad and lonely and betrayed by life right now. I want to run away somewhere, and at the same time I want to stay locked in my apartment where it is safe. I don’t like human beings right now, God. I am disappointed with them. I am disappointed with my life. I almost did it. I almost changed it all. But I fell short.
And here I am, here in my apartment crying again… Sigh… A part of me doesn’t want to try anymore. A part of me feels like people are shit. A part of me is getting eaten by the bitter bug. I’ve made it so long without getting bitter, but a part of me is giving up. A part of me wants to sell all of my stuff, let go of this apartment, don’t turn in any more scripts, go back to the city I grew up, become a part of the religion I grew up in again, and just marry someone and be safe. A part of me thinks that this belief that I have a purpose and the world needs me and I’m supposed to do all this work is just a crock of shit.
I am losing faith, Allah. I am losing hope. I have been hit in the heart a bit too hard this time, and I don’t know if I want to be a part of this world anymore. I’m not thinking of suicide or anything like that. I just don’t know if I want to hope anymore.
It sounds silly as I’m writing it, I know. But that’s how I feel. Sad. Afraid to be open anymore. Hurt. Disappointed. Stuck. Things will never be the same with my friends and I again. You know how you know that something major has changed, even though it seems minor? Like when you’re breaking up with someone. There’s usually a moment. An incident. It might be similar to moments or incidents that have happened before. It might not even be as intense as something that has happened before. But after it happens, things are never the same. Things are broken. You know your relationship will never be the same.
My friends are trying to be nice to me now. They will be assholes once I open up and let myself be vulnerable with them again. They’re just not really mature enough to value a thing and nurture it without the threat of loss. And I am too broken to play the push-pull game anymore. I don’t want to come around people that I have to guard myself around, and I don’t want to be around people who are going to hurt me once I’m vulnerable.. They have been constants in my life for years. There is no one else. Without them, I am alone. And without me, they are alone as well…
And I’m wondering if it’s better that way. So that we can grow. So that we can have faith again and meet people who we can trust; people who we can feel safe with. So we can be happy and not be consumed by the bitter bug. So we can forgive and move-on. So we can see where we went wrong and change… I wonder if it’s better to be alone than to be in relationships that are so full of shit… Some people say I cut people off too quick. Others say I keep assholes in my life for too long. I don’t think that I know when to cut people off and who to keep in my life and why. I’ve never been particularly intentional about creating relationships… I don’t know anything these days.
So, it’s 4:07am. I signed up to do some audience work today and I need to start getting dressed in the next 10 minutes if I’m actually going to go and be there on time… I’m debating about going to the bed and feeling sorry for myself all day or getting up and doing something with my life… I don’t even know what to pray for anymore, God. I just don’t want to feel this way anymore. I thought I had escaped all this sadness and pain. I thought I had overcome despair. But here I am, despairing. Here I am, without hope, and not even knowing if I should pray for hope anymore.
You say that the trickster has gotten into my brain, and I say that I am tired of fighting to keep him out. I can’t fight him on my own anymore… I don’t have the words anymore… I need help. Not humans. Not books. Not words. I need Your Help, Allah. I’m drowning. I had come so close to the shore and I don’t have any fight left in me. And I am drifting back into the middle of nowhere. Invisible world. Sad world. Bitter world. World of the living dead. I don’t want to go there. I still want to be alive. I want to be alive. I want to be alive… I’m gonna go get dressed.
Day 487
Break-ups and Breakdowns
