hownottocryeveryday

Y’all. I want to tell you something. Yesterday I couldn’t get off the bed. Stayed in the room all day long. Didn’t see a single person. Was all up in my feelings. Feeling so low. I wrote a blog entry, but didn’t post it. Deleted it. Was processing my feelings. Talked about my boyfriend. I broke up with him. I had a boyfriend. I’ll just call him that for simplicity purposes. We never really sat down and said, “Hey, I’m your boyfriend and I’m your girlfriend and we’re going somewhere”, but we were dating and I wasn’t dating anyone else while I was dating him.

So whatever happened or didn’t happen, none of us were happy in the relationship. I blame him for everything, but that’s another entry. I blame me for even going anywhere with him, when from the very beginning, something in my intuition said, no, I can’t be 100% with him, but because I couldn’t find the reason mentally, I just decided to give it a try. We hurt each other a lot. He lie too much. That was the reason that my subconscious picked up on from the very first day when he called me by my name (without me ever introducing myself to him) and then subsequently told me he had never heard of me and didn’t know anything about me and only wanted me to work with him because his spirit took me. “How he know your name if he don’t know anything about you?” my subconscious nudged. But I couldn’t decipher it’s language and just took as me being hesitant to be with him for reasons I couldn’t understand.

The reasons presented themselves and ultimately culminated in me recognizing a lifelong pattern – probably lives long pattern – that I can finally discard. Laydie the martyr. The one who needs nothing and gives all, to a point where people forget that I have needs and actually begin to resent me if I speak of them. Whose giving of all is not seen, appreciated or respected because nothing but constant lifeblood on demand will do for the receivers. I take responsibility for it all. I’m not gonna blame myself, though. I’m not gonna beat myself up. I’m not gonna blame or beat anyone else up, either. I’m gonna do something different. Forgive. So, my therapist said there’s a way. I started seeing a therapist. I needed somewhere in my life that I could talk to someone who didn’t hurt me, even if I had to pay for it.

I cried so much yesterday. Mourned so much yesterday. I was in so much pain. And today I’m not. What shifted, you ask? Well, I’d like to say I did it all, but really I didn’t. I know you might not believe in God, but I have to tell you what has worked for me. What has worked for me is believing in more than me. Maybe it’s a mental trick. Maybe there is God. Surely, there is more to life than I can perceive. I prayed for so much help yesterday. I felt overtaken by grief and unable to take action on anything. I was supposed to be making all these decisions about my next moves and doing all this work, but I didn’t do a doggone thing. I didn’t even sleep on the bed. I stayed on the couch the majority of the day and night. I didn’t eat anything besides some peanuts that I had. And I drank a bit of water. I’m sure the peanuts gave me a pimple. Finally, after 10p at night, I ordered some food. A peanut stew dish and some pounded yams…

Somewhere during the day/night, I reached out. I reached out to my friend and mentor, My People, and told him how I was tired of this experience of life and I wanted a new experience. I thought about people who jump off bridges because their lives are so bad and they can’t see any hope, but my culture just doesn’t allow for bridge jumping. I listened to Abraham Hicks talk about something I don’t remember – making your own self happy. I reached out to another friend, the Advisor. He’s not really a friend, but he’s a friend at heart. Even though we’ve exchanged some very very painful moments, I never quite believe he hates me. I always feel like he’s really, really rooting for me. So I reached out to him. I told him I was sad and that my life sucks and that I could really use a friend. In our recent past, he normally says mean things to me and rejects me when I reach out to him, but this time he didn’t. He asked me what was going on and I explained the devastation of the past three years to him, which coincidentally started right after I had gone to the movies with him three years ago, and was greeted back home with a fist fight with my older sis, who was mad at me for a plethora or reasons, but namely for not being her martyr and having the audacity to have fun when she wasn’t having any. That incident, which was followed by my mom attacking me like a bitch off the street and having a convo with said sister wherein mom accused me of all sorts of falsities that had happened at sister’s house and sister didn’t bother to tell her the truth about what happened, started my realizations of my role in my birth family. The shit role.

I have been consciously and unconsciously disentangling myself from a relationship matrix that is no good for me ever since, and recreating the same old dynamics and suffering the pain of losing relations with people whom I have lived my whole life with side by side. But our relationships just weren’t doing it for me anymore. I was not happy. I did not feel like many of the people close to me would really, really, clap for me if I reached my full potential and wish me good will, much less support me. And they definitely evidenced that they will not be there for me at my worst. They will kick me and judge me and ask me for stuff and hurt me and roll their eyes when I am at my lowest instead of having compassion and helping me. And worst of all, they will accuse me of the worst of intentions, probably projecting their own bullshit onto me. All of this has been happening over the past few years. I’ve been living all this shit out. I’ve been an emotional wreck for the most part, not able to find much stability anywhere.

So yesterday, I also listened to a bit of a psychic reading on one of my friend’s Facebook pages. A lady who claims to be a psychic. I like her. I don’t think she’s faking her reality and she says good stuff that resonates with me sometimes. So I listened to some of her online video yesterday, and she said, “If the house around you burns down, rejoice!” If that wasn’t a word, I don’t know what is.

My friend the Advisor didn’t reject me like he usually does. He treated me with intentional kindness and asked me what I need in order to get better in life and he also asked me if there was anything he could offer. Then he called me. I haven’t had a real conversation with him in years. it was good to talk to him. We talked. He’s brilliant. I appreciate his brilliance and his sincerity and his ability to get to the heart of a thing. He believes me and he believes in me… He believes in the goodness of me and that was enough.

Meanwhile some other new guy in my life. I don’t have a name for him. Nameless. He sings corny eighties songs to me. I guess he grew up in the eighties, which makes him old as dirt. Nameless claims he’s in love at first sight with me. I really can’t make this stuff up. I have to write a comedy about this Love life of mine. It is really so so very funny from the outside looking in. I ain’t gone say nothing negative about Nameless. I’m just going to appreciate him, because if I hadn’t met him – I met him about three days ago at breakfast at the hotel I’m lodging at… If I hadn’t met him, and if he hadn’t been so nice to me and so open and so accepting and complimentary of me, I would not have agreed to have met him for dinner. And if I hadn’t met him for dinner, my boyfriend at the time would not have acted like a jealous ass. And if my boyfriend wouldn’t have acted like a jealous ass, he wouldn’t have made me think of all the women I’ve known who have had jealous boyfriends who have sabotaged their work meetings and life ambitions because they were jealous. And if I hadn’t thought of all those women I’ve known, and even thought of my own self years ago when I dated a jealous and was in constant closed up terror and sadness… If I hadn’t thought of my desire to never, ever be like that again, then I might not have broken up with my boyfriend.

And if I hadn’t met Nameless for dinner and had a two hour conversation with him, wherein he talked about his raison d’être… If he hadn’t spoken about passion, passion! The word I had said to boyfriend just a day earlier, which boyfriend had ignored and dismissed as trivial. If Nameless hadn’t talked about the importance and necessity of passion, then I just might not have believed it was possible for me to meet folks who I could be aligned with, and I just might not have had the courage to break up with my now ex when I came home and ex told me he ain’t going dancing with me and he ain’t dancing at home with me, either. I got dressed and told him I was going dancing anyway. And I took ex home.

I do believe the next day, ex came over and was curious about who tried to hit on me when I went dancing. I didn’t engage in the conversation. Ex spend the night, and in the morning, he wanted me to walk him out. I didn’t walk him out because it makes me look like a ho if I’m walking a man out in the morning. And me and ex weren’t even having sex. If I’m gonna look like a ho, at least let it be valid. Ex got mad about me not walking him downstairs.

I saw ex the next day. He was still mad. Was on his phone the whole time during our meetup. In my mind, I was like, this is some shit. Me and ex had experienced a lot of bullshit before this. Mostly him lying about almost everything and just not being kind to me. I guess he didn’t feel safe with me. I can own that. I didn’t make him feel safe because he wasn’t safe. Because he started out lying and I couldn’t trust him. Talking about him is taking me to the dark emotional space, so let me shift gears and get to the point of this blog entry. This entry started with a point in mind.

I broke up with ex. I was devastated because he had been my “with” for the past six months and I didn’t have a new potential “with” in sight. I was lonely and I was feeling all of the sadness of my breakdowns with family, my breakdowns with good friends, and my inability to get in just one healthy romantic relationship. And also judging myself because so much magic and opportunity always comes my way, but somehow I am not able to fully harness it and complete stuff and just move on to the next chapter. The next chapter frightened me. Actually stepping into my full potential frightened me. There was a belief in me that my family and friends would hate me even more if I was actually as successful as I could be. They hate me already when I’m unsuccessful, generally jobless, up and down cash flow, manless, friendless, raggedy-is apartment, unstable health and fat-ish for the past few years. How they gone act if/when I’m fine, healthy, live in an owned mansion with staff and stuff and if I have my dream career that pays really well? And if I have a fine, good man that is actually nice to me??? And I’m a public figure and helping the world and blah blah blah??? They just might try to kill me. At least that’s what it feels like in my mind.

Yesterday I went through all these thoughts and feelings and didn’t have a resolution for much. I ended the night asleep on my couch. My couch is the hotel couch. I felt homeless and lost. I didn’t know my next plans. There was no where to go. No one to come home to. My friend the Advisor advised that I be open to new possibilities and be open to meeting new people and having new sorts of relationships. I told him I was scared to get hurt again. He asked me what are my options. The option I had been choosing for some time was just to withdraw and hide away from the world. It wasn’t working. Another option that I had never thought of was to face the world in ways that are safe to me. What a concept. Eff what everybody says or thinks. Eff some energy vampire or attacker saying I spend too much money or I’m not working enough or I need to do this or that involve them in my life because they are going to “support” when really they are hurtful as hell to me. Nope. Find safe places to be in the world.

Today I woke up feeling better than yesterday. I was able to sit up and meditate. I was able to come out of the room and go down and eat breakfast. I read part of my inspirational book “Oneness” and they said I had arrived. Support, happiness and alignment were mine. Completion of life theme issues was here. It was a really encouraging read. During breakfast, one of the staff complimented my new slimmed down shape. Then I came to the business lounge to start work. My energy was feeling kind of low and off, so I did a Positive Intelligence meditation and then a breathing meditation. You breath in through your stomach, chest and up through your throat and nose for eight counts, you hold it for 24, and then you breathe out from your stomach, chest and up through your throat and nose for sixteen counts. I did that for seven minutes. It felt good. It felt like something was moving around me. Some kind of energy. A friend of mine messaged me to tell me he loves me. He does. I can feel it. He has always been so very supportive and kind and open with me. I so appreciate him

So, this is what my day has been today. I feel better. Much, much better than the darkness of yesterday. You know, they haven’t diagnosed me with it, but I might be bipolar. I can’t believe how I can experience such extremes of emotion from one day to the other. I ain’t gonna claim bipolar or any other condition, but I am gonna share one more thing with you before I go…

I had asked my therapist how to deal with my family. Most of the times most of them call me, it tanks my day in a bad way. They are mostly calling to ask for shit or blame me for shit and then throw energetic resentment darts on top of that. I want to talk to them, but not really. Not like this. Many of them are full of shit in my opinion. I may be full of shit as well, but I’m quite all right with my own shit at the moment. I’m not OK with constant attack, abuse, meanness, advantage, usury, ill will and demands that clearly hurt me with no support to meet such demands. One of my family members had call me to tell me about whatever (fill in something that means “You’re bad. Do what I say even if it’s bad for you or else I won’t approve of you.”) I got off the phone and really wanted to never talk to these people again. My therapist suggested that I take things in doses. I don’t have to answer their calls and I can answer them when it’s good for me in ways that are good for me. When I’m charged up since they are most likely in a place of draining and/or depleting me. Secondly, I can still be nice them. That’s harder for me and will require some internal work, but I’ll do it, God willing. I’m not as mad as I used to be but still not feeling like doling out much niceness. I will find the part of me that has compassion, forgiveness, and Love for myself and for them, though. So, here’s the thing that was new to me. Therapist said I don’t have to stand in the line of fire. I can stay out of the line of fire and offer what I genuinely feel like offering to them when I genuinely feel like offering it. Not because they’ve bullied or manipulated me, and they gone try it with the manipulation. Do it because I want to. It’s a nice thought. The idea of being able to love who you love and not be hurt by them even if they don’t change not one doggone bit.

I’m gonna get off this blog now and do some writing on my project. Y’all pray for me, please. I want a better life. I want to be a better life. I want to experience real joy while I’m in this body and I want to be a good person while I’m on this Earth. Honestly, I don’t want all these bad relationships. They had to die because they were built on contracts that did not fully allow the participants to be the best of themselves and have what they need to thrive. On both ends. I understand that now. I’m not ready to renegotiate any of these old contracts yet. Some will be renegotiated and some will be expired for life.

I want to offer you this before I close. Be good to yourself. I know you might feel like you don’t deserve it. Maybe you did some shitty things. I forgive you, OK? Forgive yourself even if the bastards don’t. Don’t feel guilty about feeling better. Don’t feel guilty about thriving. Don’t feel guilty about finally seeing something other than this dark, dark hole you’ve been in for so long. You don’t have to spend your life trying to save people in order to feel like a good person. I know that’s what you thought this life was about and maybe that’s what it was once upon a time, but it’s not that anymore. You are a good person, OK? Just because. And your thriving will Bless so many more people than you being all hurt all the time. We all know that when you win, the first thing you do is share your wins with others. We all know you can’t be selfish even when you want to, because your life’s work and your life ambitions are all about service. There are boundaries that you need now, though, and others might view them as selfishness. You know what they are. You know you can’t thrive with your feelings hurt all the time. You know you’re not good when you have no one who doesn’t hate you in your life. You know you need dance. I am with you. Get what you need no matter who calls you what. You have to live, OK? I want you to live. And give what is good for you to give as you see fit to give it. You are a giver, after all, and the world knows that and that is why the world keeps giving you chance after chance after chance to keep giving.

You have changed. Right now. Today. It has changed. Your life has changed. You are not the same person you used to be. You are wiser, stronger, softer. You have learned many, many lessons. Even though you can’t tell, you are more loving and stable than you’ve ever been. And you haven’t been able to see it, but others can see it from the outside looking in. Your life is a good life. Be willing to embrace that my Love, and even in those dark, dark moments, take comfort in knowing that it may pass.

God Bless you. Bless you. May your path continue to be Blessed. I Love you I Love you I Love you so much!

Sincerely,

Laydie

Day 557

I Love You I Love You I Love You

I realized something. The difference between successful and unsuccessful people often boils down to the team they have and how they are able to work with them. Y’all. Your girl has been suffering. For a long, long time. Life for a hypersensitive, intuitive empath is not the easiest, especially if you spend a long time not acknowledging, respecting or accepting who you are… I got distracted. Distracted myself, rather. Finished up on my transformation of identity cards today. My mom is calling me. I don’t want to talk to her. Sorry for saying that. Most people calling me always asking for something from me. They’re not particularly interested in really helping me thrive and are all jealous or mad or mean or try to pull my energy if they see I’m anywhere near anything besides struggling and desperate. God forbid they find out I’m happy and actually have free time and have the audacity to do things with my life that actually bring me pleasure. Just me. Just because I want to feel good. It’s a thing. I am going to make a huge assumption, but if you are depressed and have been wallowing in the mud for a while, I’m going to assume that part of it is because you’ve been utterly utterly alone for quite some time. Not alone, like there are no people in your life. There might be people. There are most likely people there – family, friends, lovers – but you’re relationships with them leave you feeling so many things that you don’t want to feel. I’m so very very sorry. You have been trying to change them. You have been trying to change you and maybe it hasn’t been working. They have only gotten meaner. You have only gotten meaner. And you are tired of it all. May I suggest a time out? In this moment? Like, right right now. Time out, peace and pause… We’ve been on this blog for quite some time. -Laydie, I want to tell you something you already know. You’ve been denying your magic, wisdom and power. I know you have your reasons. But for the next twenty-one days, I would like you to do something else. Accept it. Accept your wisdom, knowledge and power. You know you’re not going to marry the guy you’ve been dealing with. Why? because he doesn’t make you feel good. Full stop. The haters will say no one is perfect, and that’s true, but overall, he doesn’t comfort you. He doesn’t get you. He doesn’t respect the things that are important to you. You feel like you have to put up walls and boundaries and make so many demands of him in order to get your needs met, and it’s every day, because he is not used to giving. It’s not his way. He only gives to the downtrodden, and that is fine, but that agreement is not for you anymore… Do you see what you have been doing? You have a matrix of belief that has you here thinking you are only supposed to helped, given to, loved, if you are down and out. That if you dare thrive, if you dare be healthy, if you dare be happy and care free, if you dare have a man you Love and have enough of anything, then punishment is your reward. -Today, I’d like you to pull up this weed that has been eating your happiness and blocking your joy. And the other one, that you have to build a man, that you learned from your mother and father. It is not the truth. It’s ok, you hear, if you meet a man who wants to build you. You met one, actually, who wants to give to you. You met one, really, who wants to breathe life into you. You can take care of him if you like. No one who Loves you would advise you stay with the man you’re with. He doesn’t dance with you. He doesn’t meet your needs. He doesn’t understand your passion. He is looking to eat of you and only beginning to understand what it means to give. And Love. And you Love the new guy you met… Can we be honest? This is not exactly where I thought we’d be going with this blog. I had the idea of support and belonging on my mind when we started this. Can I open up my arms and let chips fall where they may? I think it’s time for that. Let chips fall where they may. Let life be what it may. Surrender> let go of control and at the same time walk with single eyed focus. OK. God. For the next twenty-one days, I’m going to join a group, to walk with single-eyed focus with. Let me be honest with myself. I do not want to waste life to so much sadness and regret. I want to be done with this. This part. This part of always feeling stunted. This part of always feeling hurt. This part of never belonging. This part of not feeling accepted. This part of having so many projects in my mind and heart that aren’t expressed. This part of playing low. Can we ask folks about team building? Can we ask about making friends? Is it project to project things? I am going through a change in thought and my anxious self wants to leap out of my body. But I am choosing in this moment to stay put. And choose another thought. Choose to own my power. Choose to own my wisdom. Choose to own my knowledge. Choose to own my magic. Choose to be so whole… It feels funny to make those choices. The nerves in my low back begin to tingle. But it’s the only choice that sets us free. It doesn’t just happen. If your muscles have been all tightened for years and your thinking has been all tightened for years and your life has been all dysfunctional for years, it doesn’t just change without some action upon it. Can we make this day the day? Not so grandiose? Not with all these big commitments. Can we do something really small? Can we go somewhere with someone? Can we travel in our backs? Can we let go in our bellies? The places that want so bad to hold on… Can we let them go? Every single one of them… Y’all? I’ve been feeling sad for a long, long time. I’ve been trying to figure this life thing out for a long, long time and I know I’ve just been running in circles and circles. And I’ve been on roller coaster rides with so many ups and downs… And, maybe it’s easy to see the answers from the outside looking in, but the answers haven’t come so easily to me. umm… But I do know, what I want to say right now and put out to the world, is that I’m not giving up. Nope. I’m not giving up on life. I’m not giving up on the possibility of peace and happiness. At least peace. At least peace of mind. At least an existence where I can feel better than depressed more often than not I know it would have been much easier if I had just stuck with a religion. I could say that this is the meaning of life and this is why we do this, that and the other and measure everything up against a reference point. Be good, believe this, do ABC and D, and then you’ll get some reward at some point. And if you’re suffering here, you can make it mean something. Still keep doing the same things your religion says and things will get better. I’m writing too much. But I was trying to get somewhere. What are we gonna do about all this sadness? What are we gonna do about these relationships that we just can’t make sense of? How are we gonna change ourselves or grow ourselves so that every day of our lives is not perpetual Groundhog Day? What will it take to be happy? What do we gotta do, God? I can’t keep living like this. I can’t keep going through the same experiences in different presentations. I want to be free now. This is where I was getting to. I want to be free now. And you say to describe what I want. My family. I want them to stop hating on me and judging me and competing with me so much, to accept me as I am and actually have good will towards me. To be kind to me, not because they are forced or obliged to, but because they want to because they Love me. And to recognize that I am more than just a support system for them and that I, too, need support and Love. I can’t even dream that big, but it would be amazing if I ever truly felt the real energy of support and Love from them, even if I was super awesome. I’d like them to forgive me, even for the stuff I’m not sorry for. Don’t judge. This is my dream. I ain’t really sorry for much because I feel like most of my meanness is by far well earned. I wish I could be nicer to them and want for them the same things that I want them to want for me, instead of just being guarded around them and not allowing Love to flow. I feel so unsafe with them, Allah. Like they just want to eat my flesh. Like they are not ok with my happiness. Like I have to hide it from them because if they find out I’m doing good, they will try and steal my joy, or they will resent me and want me to come join them wherever they are, even if it’s self-imposed misery because of their asshole antics. I don’t want to go places with them. I didn’t want to be around them overseas because I don’t like the way they treat people and I don’t like their attitudes. I wish my uncles and cousins weren’t so evil. That they hadn’t tried to sink my mom on so many occasions and sink us as well. I wish there was somewhere or someone in my life that I could really trust. Now we’re getting super honest. I remember my therapist telling me few years ago that I had no one that would stand with me at my worst or celebrate me at my best… And it was true. My family kicks me and resents me at my worst because they expect me to be their hero, and they kick me and resent me at my best because they expect me to be their hero, or maybe they want to be the hero and feel left behind… And then mom tries to guilt me into saving everyone and giving my blood to everyone the moment it starts flowing, and I never really get to the place where I’m full up before I start sinking again… Those are the patterns I want to push delete on, but it all seems so sad and daunting and impossible. I can’t even open my mouth to say I wish I had a man and a family of my own or I wish I belonged somewhere or I wish I had some friends I could laugh with. I don’t know what happened to my friends. They all disappeared. And I don’t want any of them back. I mean, not like we were. I was mostly captain save-a-ho. We were not supposed to succeed. None of us. I find it funny, though, and might want to take heed that they think I have succeeded. It’s actually quite hilarious and it’s a place to start as we go through this brick by brick of allowing for a whole new world and a whole new life experience. They think I am successful because I am here, traveling the world half the time, living my dreams, focusing on whatever I gosh darn want to, whenever I want to, somehow having the money to do these kinds of stuff even though they know nothing about a job from me for years. I guess I am pretty super lucky from the outside looking in. But people don’t feel my loneliness. They don’t feel my back trembling almost every blessed day as I face some kind of fear. Or the pain in my thighs. They don’t understand my chattering teeth or shaky hands or the ache and tension in my body from not enough hugs and no good sex for too long. They don’t know how much I yearn to laugh my heartiest without reprimand and how creative I actually am and how hard it is to have so much of me unexpressed… They don’t know how frustrating it is and how deeply saddening it is to be walking through this life alone. Y’all.. my momma just called me to attack me for whatever whatever…. I ain’t doing this no more. Yeah nope. I’m proud of myself. I ain’t doing it no more. Lord, why my momma don’t like me? I feel like the character on Million Dollar Baby… and Jenny from Forest Gump. Dear God, make me a bird. So I can fly away. Far, far away. Why my mamma so abusive. Why does she think it’s ok to constantly abuse me. I’m tired of being abused by my mom. I’m not doing it anymore… Lord, how do I stop my mamma from abusing me? Let me tell you what we not gonna do today. We not gonna fight my mamma. We not even gonna try and convince her to stop being an abusive whatever… Is there anywhere in the world I can go, God, where I am safe and Loved and cared for? I feel most alone and lost and hurt when I am with my family. I don’t want to go to where they are. I’m exaggerating a bit. I don’t feel that way with all of them, but for the ones who I have a neutral or positive relationship with, I never quite feel like I can express the fullness of me when I’m with them or when they’re with me. I’m tired of folk telling me something wrong with me all the time. My mamma? We gone leave her alone. Let me tell you what’s not gonna happen in this moment, God. I am not about to turn my attention to fighting my mamma, fighting no family, being drawn into any conflict anywhere on this Earth. Nope. Not. Happening. What I am gonna do is focus on exactly what I was focusing on before my mom called to attack me. I. Ain’t. Doing. This. Shit. No. More. Can I tell you something interesting that happened? The other night, my almost boyfriend tried to attack me for going out to a business meeting while he had come to visit me. I had told him before he came to visit me that I had a potential business meeting that I might go to when he comes over and it was understood that if the potential business partner did not confirm, I’d hang with bf and if the business guy did confirm, I’d go to meetng. So right when my bf arrived at my place, the business guy confirmed. The business guy is rich and handsome and tall and my boyfriend was jealous. Said I didn’t have to rub it in his face that I was meeting with a rich guy. Was mad when I got back from the meeting and didn’t want to go dancing with me like we had originally planned. Do you know what I did? I took his ass home. I told him I was going dancing anyway and he didn’t want to come. And so I took my boyfriend’s ass home. And I don’t feel bad about it. My mamma? We not doing this anymore. My sisters? We not doing this no more? My friends and men? Look, y’all. We not doing this no more. I don’t really care what I did to whoever that makes them feel justified in treating me like shit. If they think I’m that awful that I need to be treated like shit, I do think they should stay the fuck away from me so that I don’t do whatever it is that they think is so bad that they have to treat me awful or they can come near, be interested in resolving issues and stop treating me like shit. That is the line drawn. That is the line I’m drawing in the sand. People just can’t abuse me any more. That’s it. Full stop. They can’t do it anymore. I won’t abuse myself by engaging with them. I don’t care what I did. Sorry, but I really don’t. I absolutely don’t care. There is nothing that I have intended for a human being on Earth that warrants this shitty behavior that I’ve been subjecting myself to for far too long. So, we are going to be intentional in this moment. Instead of getting all depressed because we don’t feel like people Love us, or because we feel like they love us but they treat us like shit anyway so who cares if they love us… Instead of wondering where in the world will we go and who will we live life with if these people aren’t around… Instead of doing that… Instead of reverting into thinking we are bad people and we deserve all this bullshit punishment of a life, how about we just don’t do that? They are still a part of your life because they want something from you. They want something from you because they see something valuable in you. But let’s not associate being valuable with being abused and exploited and taken for granted, as we have been associating for so long. That will keep you with your head down and not playing big because you are afraid of the pain that comes with it… Let’s paint a new reality. Right now. I am here with you. Right right now. As we are looking at all of our sadness and everything we’ve been through – I know it’s been a lot – … As we are feeling our despair and heartbreak and deep, deep fears… I know it is so much… As we are doubting whether we will always be alone in life and whether we will ever find a hand to hold or some arms that don’t hurt or a place to celebrate life, may I suggest that we plant another thought? Right right now. In the midst of it all. What if we just decide to use all the knowledge in all those doggone self-help and religious books and all the lessons we’ve learned in how ever many years we’ve been on this Earth? What if we decide to just as wise as we really are? Like, for real for real. Just own it and be wise already. It’s Ok. My mom called just now and I didn’t answer. She messaged and I messaged her back saying I can’t handle being attacked or abused at the moment. She said she “will NOT ‘abuse’ me any more” and I said thanks. I don’t care if they call me bad or rude. I don’t even care if she never accepts that she’s abusive, etc. etc. For the birds. What I care about is finding ways to keep myself emotionally safe. What I care about is emotional stability for the first time in a very long, long time. Can we challenge ourselves? In this moment. On this day. Can we make a choice? Bring our wisdom, our power, our ability to keep ourselves safe, our knowledge, all of our clarity, every last bit of it, to the forefront and fight for our right to peace of mind? Even if we have to confront ugly realities? Even if we have to renegotiate relationships and be by ourselves for a bit? Can we do this for our children? So that maybe we can even dream of having children and have them? How long will we be victims of so much? Can we talk about power now? Not power over people but power over ourselves. Agency over our emotions so that they don’t sink us with every negative interaction. And energy. My baby, you are responsible for your own safety. Your intuition is on point. You’re not crazy. Your intuition ain’t never been wrong. Why did it take me this long to realize my mamma is a rage-akholic. Understandably so, but doesn’t negate the fact that she will attack your ass at any given moment and it’s up to you whether or not you want to be around that. Ok. Back to us. I’m gonna close out this blog in a moment. This is a big girl blog. Honestly, I’m feeling very very hurt about my mom’s attack just now. My hands are trembling and my self is attempting to leave my body. I am going to pull it right back in and feel this shit. Not out of torture, but it’s time. It’s time to grow. We are the presence of God that is deep enough and wide enough to contain the entirety of our inner experiences. So I’m gonna bring the most powerful part of myself to the forefront right right now. And we gone have a talk with the part of me that just got sucker punched by my mamma. We’re not gonna make anything up. We not gonna try to understand why or make any sense of it or judge anyone or try and fix my mamma. We gone absolutely selfish. Do you know why? Because at this very moment, you are hurting. Well, I’m talking to myself, but maybe you can relate… At this very moment, we are hurting. Someone hurt us. Now you can paint it another way and blame yourself if you want and say it’s your bad behavior that warranted the hurt or they didn’t mean it or they didn’t do it on purpose or whatever. They’ve done it before. That’s why it hurts. In fact, they’ve done it over and over again in different formats. That’s why the wound is so sore. So you are hurting. And what just happened is that your body closed up. Your sore hip contracted again and your nerves spazzed. These people who hurt you, whether they did it on purpose or not, whether they will every accept any responsibility or not or blame you for the whole shabang… Most likely, they will not be comforting you at the moment. They will not be the ones to massage or pay for a massage for your hips. They will have nothing to say about your spazzed nerves and forget about them tomorrow as they ask you to do shit for them again. They are not your caregivers at the moment. Maybe one day they will be. Maybe one day they have been. But at the moment, it ain’t them. You, Madame or Monsier lonely, are the caregiver of yourself. Don’t fight. Don’t fight anyone any more. Don’t fight your mamma. Set a boundary and move on. She just can’t be calling you and attacking or abusing you. If she does, you will kindly get off the phone and/or not answer her calls. The end. There has to be a way to be hypersensitive and safe in the world. There has to be a way to not be constantly on a painful emotional roller coaster. It is in fact possible. People have done it. And you don’t have to be mean to others to accomplish it. You may start off being mean to others and you have my very well permission to be mean as hell to whoever is violating your boundaries and hurting you. Do what you gotta do to protect yourself. They don’t understand how much they are hurting you. Or maybe they do understand and need to be punched in the face to stop. Whatever it takes. I’ve been working on this entry the entire day. A bit of a procrastination tactic, but a bit not. I’m gonna close out soon. I’m not gonna edit or reread, because if I do, I might not publish this. I kind of want this post to be more than just musing, though. I want to be intentional about a new way of life, a new way of being, a whole new world… I want to do something with my magic and power. I want a different life now, God. I life that I want to be a part of. A life that feels good. It seems really, really far off from where I am. I don’t know how to fix not one of my stank broken relationships and if I’m being honest, I don’t feel like fixing any of them. I don’t feel like being the only interested in fixing stuff in my dynamics anymore. It’s not right. Even small children know how to make peace. I’m not helping anyone by always being the one interested in peacemaking with reluctant participants. I want to practice some of the tools that I’ve been learning for such a long time. Ahimsa. Loosely interpreted as non-violence. Let’s start there. Emotional strength. We need some people to do this with. So let’s start by counting the people we already have. Side bar. There is a difference between having people and having people. Sometimes you have people who are in your life, are even doing stuff for you, but the energy isn’t right. You feel it. You know when you feel it. There is bitterness, resentment, envy, malice, the good will is not flowing. Something in you just doesn’t feel comfortable sharing good news with those people or celebrating or smiling too big with them. Doesn’t mean they are bad people. Who cares what they are at the moment, unless you are interested and available to help them… When I say we need some people, what I mean is we need some people we feel good with. We need people who feel like they are with us for real. Who we can trust will clap for us for real in their heart of hearts. I am sure there are more people who feel that way about me than I’m aware of… But these days it has been one of my little sisters that has really made me feel Loved and cared for and seen. So, this is the intentional part of the blog. I am intending to take action towards a better life. I am willing to change, grow, process, cut, nurture, nourish… whatever it takes. Join. What I know I can do now is ahimsa. Non violence. But ahimsa doesn’t mean sitting around and getting punched. That’s not cool, either. I believe that if you are used to being the punched and the unseen and you are learning to keep yourself safe, the best way is to set boundaries as to who can access you in what ways. Doesn’t mean you have to disappear from the whole world, but sometimes it means that. You are moving away from painful situations because you are learning to set a new pattern and habit in your life. You’ve gotten used to this dysfunctional stuff and you won’t get unused to it if you’re all up in it all the time. So you get away from it and try and see if you can find ways to experience the things you dream of, even if you have to experience them by yourself at first. Even if you have to pay someone to be your therapist or friend at first. That’s what I’m going to do. Just a little thing. My commitment is to show up every day. I know I’ve disappointed myself so many many times and not kept these commitments. But I’m going to keep starting over and keep trying again. Show up every single day. Write this blog every day so I’m not alone on this journey. I was going to join a class at my spiritual center, but I’m not fully feeling it right now. So instead of that, I’ll keep checking in with some of the people who I think are with me. That will help me not feel so alone. I will keep checking in with my feelings. My task for this week is to complete a thing I’ve been working on for a while, and also spend every day practicing follow-through, discipline with my words and work, water and prayer. I can do this. You know, we can have feelings, even awful feelings, and still get things done. That is the lesson we are embodying. We can have good feelings, too. It will take some time and practice to change, but I am hopeful. For the first time in so, so long, I am hopeful about the possibility of a different kind of life. And now, for this evening, we are going to home. We are by ourselves, but deep down, we know we don’t have to be that way. Ok. So it makes things a little better. We are not little kids not being picked to be on the sports team. We belong. Yes, we do. Saints and sinners all belong somewhere. If you are feeling all different and left out, I want to give you something. You. Belong. Even if you haven’t figured out where your place is yet, know that your place is somewhere. Know that you’re not alone. You can use your imagination for this until it becomes real. Imagine someone who loved you. Maybe the person is dead. Maybe the person is no longer in your life. But think of one moment in your life that you felt Loved. Really Loved in the ways you need. And if you can’t think of any of those moments in your life, then let’s imagine it. Imagine that it was possible for you to belong somewhere. To be welcomed and not hurt. Just with one person on this Earth. Just in one place on this Earth. I am here overseas. And today someone gifted me with a bottle of water and some free French fries and a gift of ginger beer. It was a server in the hotel here. He was happy to have me outside sitting with him as he served. I was happy to be welcomed. I am thinking of a rare moment in life when I was in a dance camp and I belonged with a group of women when I made a poem and they agreed to participate in the presentation of it. I belonged. Feel like you belong here in this world. I know your mind is doubting if any of this will work. You are asking if it will change your life at all, and I’m not giving any guarantees. I’m only asking that you try something. This is a tool I know, but there are others. There are other tools you know. But like most medicines, they don’t work over night. Those bacterial things get cures in like three days or seven, but some pesky mold might take three to six months to get out of your system. But the medicines only work if you take them and if you take them consistently. So I’m asking you to pick something. Please. I want you to survive. I want you to thrive. I want us to live better lives. Pick something you can practice, and can we commit to 21 days. I will practice writing every day, and water and prayer and exercise and sun and love. If I have no one to share Love with who doesn’t hurt me, I will share it with myself. A very very small intention is simply for me to feel better. It’s not so concrete and I will refine it as things go on. But it’s honest. I want to feel better. Have a good night y’all. And Bless you. Sincerely, Laydie Day 555 Feel Better

Y’all…. So, so many things going through my head. So, my ancestors or some spirit or some spell done called me back to Sierra Leone to be over here doing work. I’m sitting with sister having a meeting at the moment. Overseas. Overwhelmed. I was complaining a minute ago about everything. I’m not so complaining anymore. I have to go in a bit, but I just wanted to get on here right quick and write a little quick message about a motivation that came to me. It was about commitment. So, I don’t know what I was saying, but let me tell you something right quick. In this hellova thickofa mud, sometimes ain’t nothing else gonna do it for you. Nothing else is going to work except a real, real, real bonafide commitment to get out of it. We’ve been up in here for way too long. I want to be happy now. I’m still mad at a lot of people. I still have a lot of conversations to have. I still have a lot of processing and shaping and deciding to do. I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive. I have to go to a dance class in a minute. My time is full up. I wanted to touch bases with you. So, I started seeing a therapist again a couple days ago. She told me to start looking for and seeking out people who are aligned with me and people who I’m compatible with. I’m into it. I feel hopeful. I’m learning not to judge. It’s time to heal. We’ve just been hurting for way too long. It’s time to heal. Thanks for reading. Be well. I Love you so, so much. I Love you I Love you I Love you.

Y’all… So, I just want to write a bit because I have work to do. I am overseas. It has been the hardest season of my life. It’s a new moon. My sis is here with me. The one I punched in the face a long time ago. She’s my friend now. I am glad to have her here. Relationships have been falling apart. Relationships have been falling together. I have been deeply depressed and heartbroken and mostly out of body for the past few months. A fall out with my little sis made me realize the nature of my relationship dynamic with her and also with other family members whom I was close with. Made me realize what she really thought of me and what her real intentions for me were. Nothing that filled me up. I was sad and mad and bitter and resentful. Still feel some of those feelings, but the bitters are finally melting away. Just today. Just today they’ve started melting. My farm overseas needed attention. Needs attention. Lord, don’t ask my why I’m over here overseas starting a farm in the middle of nowhere talking bout some community development. You bound me here. It wasn’t of my thinking or ambition. This is really one of those instances where I feel like some ancestors just pulled me into this Godforsaken country and obliged me to do some work. I could have done like my sister. Just in and out with some impactful project and a temporary team. But noooooo…. I’m over here talking bout I’m a do a farm. While people are trying to land grab, back stab, sabotage, and my number one teammate is traumatized and having a meltdown. And I’m traumatized and been having meltdowns, too. I’ve had a lot to say. I’ve been holding a lot of anger and pain. I’m talking to my therapist today and very excited about talking to a therapist. She loves me. When I pay her. It’s better than nothing. So, it occurred to me in a really real way that I can’t go out like this. This life I’ve been living has been entirely too sad. Entirely too unfulfilling. It is not that I’ve not been trying. I’ve been trying so many things for so long, God. Structure and capacity building are my needs. Capacity building within my own self. But first and foremost, accepting responsibility for my life… I was in deep meditation today, feeling all sorry for myself. Feeling all sad and depressed as usual. Trying to count how many ways nobody loves me. Feeling so unLoved. And then I asked for help. I remembered something one of my mentors had said about transmutation. And how, in order to do alchemy, you let in a higher frequency in order to transmute the lower. So I imagined that light was coming into me from above to try and change all this murky darkness that has had me running in circles and circles for years. I tried to imagine that this time could be done. Like, all this tread milling and depression and lack and not having needs met and not expressing myself in ways that I wanted. I imagined that maybe God cared about, against all evidence that I could see. Why not? It’s my imagination. I saw that I had been shirking all my power. I didn’t want it. I associated power with my experience of it. Just having relationships where people expect you to be giving and leading and supporting, but they don’t really give you anything you need and in fact get very upset if you dare demand being cared for in any way or God forbid get sick where you need to be cared for. I associated power with sacrifice and constant busyness and loneliness. I associated power with war and drama all the time and fighting for someone else’s right. I associated power with absolutely no fun and no love and no care and no hugs and no sex and no ease. I didn’t want it. But not having it hadn’t been working too well for me, either. Being all small and stupid hadn’t been working for me. So I made a decision today. I made a commitment. To end this shit. In spite of how I feel. Because of how I feel. This is that moment y’all. This is the climax or the turning point in my own story. The place where the hero of the story finally realizes her misbehavior and chooses to resolve it in order for the hope of a happy ending and for the hope of problems solved. So what is my misbehavior? Could I really admit it? Could I say it to the world. Misbehavior is a character trait that is the source of the character’s problem with the world. God, I want to know. Not accepting my power, you say. I have my reasons. I have been hurt because of power. There’s more, but all that other stuff is a false personality I’ve built up to try and survive in a world where I felt powerless. If I were to just own it. Own I am the goddess – the world would fall in line. K. I have to get to work now on my script. I am safe. I am comforted. I am powerful. I am Loving. I am kind. What does a life other than sadness and depression and unfulfillment look like? What does it feel like to be appreciated and supported and loved and have my love and support received and appreciated? I don’t believe I’ve ever had a good life where those things happened for me. I’m not gonna get all overly zealous and say my life is going to change presto chango just because I wrote a blog and had some inspiration today. I will say, though, that I’m thankful to even have a thought that maybe things can get better. I haven’t been able to think that in a long time. I will say, though, that I’m thankful that I have food and water and a bed that doesn’t hurt and somewhere to lay my head. there is so much more to write, but it’s time to get to work. So, to summarize. I don’t know how it’s going to happen. I don’t know when it’s going to happen, but it could happen very soon. The stake I am putting in the ground today, though, is to choose to end this dynamic of sadness, unfulfillment and depression. It’s over. Today. Now now. And not to dream too big. Be systematic and structural with it until I find some stability in a new thought. Do my very very best to finish this last edit of this script… Do my very very best to put structures in place and build capacity so that my farm can thrive… Do my very very best to tend to my wounded psyche and broken heart and broken sense of self and keep myself safe from abuse so that I can faith in the possibility of goodness again… Gotta go. Ttyl Day 554 Stake in the Ground

Y’all. I wrote this whole long post for the first time in a long time, and then it all got deleted. I talked about letting Grace find you, being good to yourself, and Loving yourself like you would Love yourself if you were your own child. And not being fixated on issues with others. Being all right with having a good life even if people didn’t like you or forgive you or approve you or even if people never said sorry or made amends or acknowledged your pain.

We have been prisoners. No judgement. But we have been prisoners. Today, for the first time in weeks, I am off the bed and productive. I’m using my imagination to imagine what it would feel like if Grace found me. How would it feel to just not hurt anymore. I know there are so many good things I have not experienced, but would I allow for the possibility of experiencing something good? Could I choose to practice something good.

I also made an announcement. The days of being dominated by negative emotion are over. Finally. Now. Today. The days of pushing away myself and not accepting myself and living for the approval of others is over. Now. Today. Not in a mean way. Not in a me against the world way. But in a committed way. Mainly to forgive myself and be good to my own sweet soul. And to treat myself as if I was my own child, with Love and Kindness. At some point I’ll treat others that way, too. But start with myself. I’ve needed it for far too long. Build an unshakeable foundation of inner integrity and well-being.

And be good to yourself, OK? This is so not as deep and raw as what I originally wrote, but it’s time to go now and face this world. I ask you, God, to help me as I am finally ending this loop. Cutting this chord and breaking free.

Ameen.

Day 553

Loop Ends (Be Good To Yourself)

Hey. I’ve been sitting here trying to figure out what to do with this day. So many things pulling for attention. Part of me wants to hide forever. Throw in the towel. I am tired of this world. My beauty has been a curse. My gifts and talents have been a curse. My love has been a curse. They only make people want to take from me and resent me when I don’t give what is wanted of me. I do not get to paint my toenails yellow and put shea butter on them without someone I love feeling jealous or someone I don’t want feeling angry with me and withholding because I won’t be with them and let them touch said feet. I don’t get to have my skillset without everyone in my life feeling like I should use my skills for their agendas without having fulfilled my own agendas for myself. I don’t get to love without others feeling like my love is only for them and I don’t need any true love in return. And getting angry and hurt if I dare seek love for me. I have hurting hurting hurting. Probably hurting for a very long time, but feeling it deeply these past few months. Crying every day. Feeling trapped and stunted in my life. Not really knowing how to solve problems. Not really wanting to face problems because all answers seemed to lead to pain and more pain. But the problems are not going anywhere. They are just compounding. My WhatsApp is buzzing alerting me I have messages. It is only people wanting stuff from me. Stuff that has nothing in it that’s good for me. I’ve retreated into numbness and apathy. It is easier than feeling the pain of feeling so un-loved and feeling so used. Something funny? The nicest person in my life right now is the last person I ever would have guessed. My brother. I never realized how Loving my brother was, but that is another story. He’s nice to me. He treats me with respect. He helps me without me having to ask. He sees me without me having to tell him things… I am grateful for that small Grace, Allah. I want to to dump. Sorry, this might not be a motivational post. I need to talk to someone. Someone who understands. Someone who sees me as good. I want to be right. I want to be seen as good. I want to be understood… What happened, you ask? So much has happened at one time. But family stuff mostly. Situation(s): Where to start? Family. Sisters. I went overseas. To heal the world. The world was broken and full of shit. I guess that’s part of the heal the world premise. You’re going into broken stuff. Moana stuff. Demons throwing fireballs at you. I didn’t factor that whole part into my overseas ambitions. The demons throwing fireballs part. And the fact that you might get hit by fire. And the fact that it hurts and might kill you. And the fact that most people will not understand the depths of your pain or sacrifice because they have not faced off with demons throwing fireballs that almost kill them. But anyway. That happened. I went overseas. To start a relatively small venture. Some people didn’t like it. They wanted the land I was using. They were jealous because I did what they had wanted to do but couldn’t. There was much backstabbing, betrayal, etc. It was a lifestyle. Men wanted me. Not because they wanted to give me anything. Because I was a possible meal ticket. Possible sex ticket. Possible way out of the land of fireballs. My grandma had died. I knew her life was in danger but nobody listened to me. And six days later she died. I was sad that I couldn’t save her. Nobody wanted to really know what happened to her, at least nobody demonstrated it through action. They didn’t want an autopsy. They didn’t want to videotape conversations. They didn’t want to press charges or go to police to investigate. They didn’t, through action, show interest in knowing shit. The person whom I suspect was responsible for my grandma’s death is a family member. I suspect he wanted her dead because he wanted her house. Shortly after my grandma’s death, my mom had the audacity to say she was thinking of giving the house to said person – no investigation needed, no autopsy, no nothing. Because this person was family. I realize I was involved in a looney bin tale. Maybe I was part of the loons, too. But I just couldn’t sit by and let such a grave injustice happen. I loved my grandma. I hadn’t spent much time with her, but in the small time I spent, I loved her so much. She was mean as hell when she wanted to be, but just as sweet as she was mean. She would lay her head on your lap or let you lay your head on hers and hold your hand and tell you stories about life and joke with you. She was deeply loving. And beautiful. She had beautiful hands. And she wasn’t scared of shit. And I couldn’t imagine what really happened to her during her final dying hours. But moreso, if she was murdered, I couldn’t imagine giving up her house to the person who was responsible for her murder. I went overseas. I also had a farm there. I had started the farm with my mom. I loved working with my mom. Our bond. We fought over a lot of things. I almost died and was deeply sad after realize the nature of my relationship with mom. I threw a bottle at the wall at one point and then our relationship shifted. Somehow, my mom and I came to a place of genuine Love and respect. I don’t have to bend my back when I’m around her anymore. I Love her deeply and can be myself with her. It’s been a dream of a lifetime. And she loves me, too. But I knew that after grandma died, everything would have changed. My mom’s reason for being overseas was to take care of my grandma. She may not want to be there after grandma’s death. I may not want to be there without mom. I didn’t know. I really loved working with my mom. She’s a gem of a human being. Don’t get me wrong, she’s got a million issues, but having her on your team in whatever is such a Blessing. Because at the core, she really really Loves you and wants you to win, and that takes precedence over all issues. That’s good enough for me. So, situation. I went overseas. Was there for months. Farm lived. Decided to keep going with it. Joined a film program. Learned about filmmaking overseas. Worked on a script that I had started in the states that had been getting traction. I was working on a rewrite. One of my sisters was helping to sponsor my trip and I had also gotten some money from a grant I had written. And I had a little bit of passive income that was coming in from the states. So that was carrying me. That sis had a project that she was starting in Africa and she wanted me to shoot some videos for her and connect with some characters – I’ll just call them actors – to be in her project. A shot a video and connected with the actors. Put up ads. Made phone calls. Had meetings. A lot happened. Maybe I’ll explain in another blog. But it was time to come home. I don’t even know why I came home. My mom was worried. Other sibs wanted help with stuff. I wasn’t feeling one way or the other about coming home. With all the drama overseas, my life there was a bit better than here, because I was living on my own terms and I wasn’t lonely. The people in my life in America just wanted me back because they wanted stuff from me, and I wasn’t really feeling it… My creative work had gotten some traction, and I had planned to come back to the states, put all my energy into selling the script that had gotten traction, get myself right so that I could finally get a man, and prep for the harvest of my farm before having to go back overseas in the fall to harvest. So, here’s the situation. My sis, who had sponsored me and has also been supportive of other things over the years asked if I could go overseas in early fall to essentially lead the production of her project. She didn’t say lead the production of her project, but that’s how I saw it, because I am the only one on our team who speaks the language of the country and knows how to produce. Having just been in a film program in that country, I know that working there on a film project is a full-time commitment. Also, having worked with the people on my sister’s team before, I know that they are all type A overachiever types and they will be working on the project nonstop from the moment they talk about it. Which means, if I lead them, I will be working on the project nonstop from the moment they talk about it. Which means I will not have the time or mental space to finish my script, get a man and/or prep for my farm harvest correctly, ‘cus I’d be busy with pre-prep for a whole other brand new project. In April or so, I told my sis that I wanted to support her on project and could be more involved at a later time, but for the time being, I couldn’t commit to coming back overseas for her project in early fall because I had these other priorities which I just spelled out and I didn’t want to commit to anything else which might force me to forego my other priorities before they had come to fruition. And my things were time sensitive urgent. Hers really wasn’t. There was no reason for her to come in early fall versus a time when it would be easy for me to help her except that she wanted to. But somehow she seemed upset or hurt that I said I couldn’t commit. And I felt upset and hurt that she, knowing my struggle, knowing my age, knowing my lack of success in just about every area of life, knowing that I had finally come to a place where success was on the horizon and I could very well break through in three months if I just focused on myself – knowing all this… Knowing that I melt down with too much stress and I struggle with keeping my physical and mental health balanced – I send her pictures of my muscles twitching and tell her about my meltdowns regularly, she was backing me up against a wall. Either I work at a super stressful pace: Rewrite a script by a certain time, which would require a twenty hour a week commitment full of high mental energy because I don’t know how to to do it. Plus prep for a farm harvest, which would as well require at least a twenty hour a week commitment full of high mental energy because I don’t know how to do it. I’m done by then as we all know. I’m beat. My energy betrays me at the worst times when I do hard stuff. But get up with my muscles hurting and nerves twitching and get excited about taking classes for a new business sis is starting and writing grants and getting on phone calls with overseas people who love a good scam and making creative plans with type A’s who are on the dominate or be dominated interpersonal vibe. Forget about a man or free time or self care or time for joy with this plan. I was mad that my sis would even want me to be on this plan. When she didn’t have to. I don’t even know if she cares that much about this business. I don’t think she does to be honest. It’s a hobby and she’s just excited about starting a business overseas in general, but she don’t want to run this business. She wants me to run it. And I don’t want to run this business. It’s not feasible or sustainable. Not for me. I’m so not interested in the high paced super busy life anymore. It doesn’t work for me. It makes my muscles hurt and gives me no time to smell roses, laugh or love. My sister lives at high pace and maybe she’s able, but I’m not interested. So that was my one big situation, which is still not resolved. I told my sis about all this and she still wants me to lead her project. Still planned to go overseas at a time that would either make me sacrifice my goals or move at a pace that’s unhealthy for me. So, my only options are to help her at a pace that’s healthy for me and allows me to meet my goal timelines, which is not fast enough for her to be prepped by the time she goes and then her results won’t optimal; or move at her pace and then flop and fail at my timelines and be nerve buzzed and muscle pained to boot. It’s a bullshit situation and I’m mad at her for putting me in it. Because she didn’t have to. She could have everything she’s doing – I could have done it for her even – in a few months after I had seen some success in my own endeavors. The other situation was another sister. She had plans for me as well. She generally asks me to help her with stuff as her first responder and always treats me the worst when I help her and is the most ungrateful and disrespectful and abusive as can possibly be when I help her. While I was overseas, she asked if she and her son could move into my apartment. Whatever whatever happened in her life and it was urgent. I said yes and she had moved in in a few weeks, with the idea that I would be living with them when I got back from overseas. She told me she wanted to remodel the apartment and I was fine with it. She asked me if I wanted to contribute to selecting the decor and I wasn’t interested in contributing – we don’t have the same sense of style and I didn’t even want to try. We had tried before and don’t agree on style. But I didn’t care, because I like her style. It’s just not my style. I told her that the only thing I cared about was the couch. We agreed that we would select the couch together once I arrived. Before arriving, I was on a conference call with her one day and I stepped away. While away, I heard her ask the other person on call, “When is Laydie coming back? Because I need a babysitter.” I was crushed. Here I was actually excited about coming to see my sister and here she was trying to play me as usual. When I came home, my place was beautiful, but there was no indication that any consideration had been made as to where or how I would live there. There was a queen sized bed in room and literally all closets and all shelves in the entire apartment were filled with sis and son’s stuff. There were two work desks in the living room – one kid desk and the desk I used to use now had my sis’s big desktop on it. My sis had panicked in prep for an event and ordered a couch before I got there. She said that she ordered it before consulting me because I was traveling and she couldn’t reach me. She hadn’t tried to reach me and could have reached me had she tried. The couch was cute enough but not functional. You couldn’t sleep on it. I mean, she could have gotten a futon. She could have gotten a sofa bed. She could have gotten a king bed. She could have gotten anything that would indicate that she had thought about where I was gonna sleep, but she didn’t. We had lived together before and every time one of us slept in the living room and had closet space in the living room and one of us slept in the room and had closet space in the room. I asked her where I was supposed to live and she started crying. Said she had been used to being coupled up where her and her person shared everything and slept together and she didn’t think any differently when moving in with me. She said I was supposed to sleep in bed with her and son. Or that I could decide. And went on with the waterworks. It was clear to me that she hadn’t thought about where I would sleep, or she had thought I’d sleep in living room. Sleeping in living room could have worked for me if I actually had something to sleep on. But the couch wasn’t appropriate for sleeping on. It was too skinny. On top of all that, she had invited or allowed another family member, my 6’4″ nephew, to come and visit for the summer. So now there were four of us in apartment. One bed and one non-sleep-able couch. I slept on the floor because I don’t believe you invite guests to your house and have them sleeping on the floor or force them to sleep with you unless you absolutely have to. I had a script due – something that could change my life – in a few weeks if I was going to be on track. I would write and she would call me a workaholic. My muscles were hurting. She had planned a birthday extravaganza and had written me into babysitting duty and whatever else on the plans. I fell off a scooter and scraped my arm up real bad and kind of banged my body out of place. She noticed in the moment but forgot about it later. After our neighbor came upstairs and rudely complained about her son jumping up and down, she changed our internet name to a real adversarial name – “***** witches upstairs”. She thought it was funny. I thought it was destroying about ten years worth of relationship building and also I didn’t like the idea of identifying as a witch even in jest, and I asked her to change the name. She didn’t. Had one excuse after another. Thought it was funny. I had a work meeting with a colleague whom I had invited over the house. He wanted to log into the internet. I had to tell him the internet name was “***** witches upstairs”. It was humiliating. Anyone who knows me knows I’d never name my internet that, including my sis. But here I was. I had welcomed someone into my house and I was being bullied, sleeping on the floor, got an effed up internet name, couldn’t do any work because sis acts offended if she’s in my space and I’m not giving her my full attention. I had had a super opportunity to be recommended for this prestigious film lab. I had previously applied for this lab twice and been denied. This third time, I had a shoe in. I was recommended. All I had to do was show up with a project. I had several friends who would have died for me to bring them into this opportunity. But I reached out to my sis, because she’s my sis and I wanted her to win to. Told her I could bring her project in and all she had to do was write it. She was with it, but at the end of the day, she didn’t write it. We didn’t get into the program. She had nothing to say about it. When I brought up my disappointment, she starts crying and talking about how she had gone farther than ever with that project and how she never finishes anything. Never said sorry. Full of shit. While I was out of town, I had introduced her to an ex of mine, who is a neighbor, thinking she could use a friend and she could use some help with stuff. They connected, and she would tell me when they chatted. When I got back in town, neither she nor he would tell me they are in communication, and I didn’t even think they were. Then one day she tells me she’s going running with him that night. I was shocked. I had just spoken to him that day and he had told me no such thing. “How are you going running with him?” I asked. She was taken aback and said “You can come if you want.” I didn’t say anything. My ex didn’t tell me about it. They went running together and hadn’t thought to invite me at all, even though I had been focused on exercise and my sister knew that. He told me it was last minute – that he thought she was going to flake and didn’t know they were going till 10p (my sister had told me they were going around 6p)- and that’s why he didn’t invite me or tell me. She told me she thought he was going to flake and that’s why she didn’t invite me, but I was welcome to come. I was welcome to come???? How is my sister going on a one-on-one with my ex and telling me I’m welcome to come? Some bullshit. My ex told me about an eyebrow raising incident that happened during their run. My sis never told me about it. My ex told me that my sis had messaged him at some point on one of those days asking him to take her to the farmers market because I was asleep. My sis never told me about it. I generally wake up before her in the mornings… And all this time sis is walking around the apartment like she’s doing me a favor by being there. She’s doing me a favor by getting my internet turned on and labeling it a name that makes me feel disempowered, offended, and disrespected every time I see it. She’s doing me a favor by getting us a couch that I can’t even use. It’s the thought that counts, they say. But I’m sorry. I really don’t see any thought of me in her actions. In fact, I see thoughts to hurt me. I call bullshit. So this was my life in June. This was going on while my other sis has designed a whole business model around my potential leadership. My mom is calling me asking me to help my brother and if I tell her about any of my small wins, her immediate response is to tell me to help my other sister, who didn’t make it to the blog today. I am offended. What is she talking about? I stay helping somebody’s sister, brother and friend, but it’s too much. And the worst part is, I be giving blood for people. Blood they don’t get anywhere else, but somehow I am resented by those same people for whatever reason. I don’t get it. Nobody is asking me how I’m doing. Nobody is noticing my drained energy or my teeth chattering or the amount of deep breaths I have to take before walking out of the house. People acting mad and calling me selfish if I dare mention me in a convo… I came to my brother’s house in July. He had gotten an operation and needed help. I needed a place to sort things out. It worked for both of us. My sis eventually moved out of my apartment. But now today here I am. Hiding. Mad. My sis is planning her overseas trip and she’s overwhelmed. She doesn’t know how to do it. She never planned to know how to do it. She doesn’t even speak the language there. She planned on me doing it on her time, even though I told her it wouldn’t be good for me to do it on her time. I actually know she cares for me deeply and she can’t see how this is negatively impacting me. But after being in a situation where a family member was literally trying to feed me what I thought was food poisoning that could kill me – not because she wanted to kill me – because she couldn’t see how she was negatively impacting me, I’ve become a bit hardened. I don’t care if you don’t mean bad for me. If you’re affecting me badly and I’m telling you and for whatever reason you can’t hear me and I’m doing my best to communicate to you, I have to stop and just do what’s good for me. I’m not suicidal. I can’t wait for you to understand. I might be dead by the time you get it. I don’t know where this blog started of where it’s going, but I had to tell someone what happened. Maybe you will feel sorry for me. Maybe you will understand that I am not a bad person. Maybe not. I just received an email that makes me think my sis can do this project without me. I am relieved. I’m sure she’s mad or feels whatever about me, but I’m giggling. Thank God! Wow. Y’all. What a realization just happened. Is happening as I write. They can do it without me. Let them the eff go! Lawdamercy this feels so good. They not gonna do it the way they would do it with me, but that’s fine. They’re smart and talented and even my wanna be witch betraying ass sister got some good qualities somewhere that will come out at some point. I think this needed to be done. I think I needed to fall back so that they could be mad and out of whatever motivation prove to me (and prove to themselves) that they can do shit without me. Oh, Lord, thank you! Wow! I can go work on myself without feeling guilty now. Just in this moment, I am realizing that they can do it without me, and with that realization there is a possibility of hope. Maybe they will approach me for stuff because they want to, not because they feel like they have to. So I did do a good job? I did the right thing. It has been so hard to not be accepted by them or be disapproved of. It has been the hardest thing. It has been the hardest thing in life to not be accepted or approved of by so many. I’ve been a dumb ass sacrificial lamb wanting people to love me or approve of me or accept me, and at the end of the day, I haven’t usually even gotten those things after giving what feels like so much to me. Y’all… We got somewhere in this blog. A spell just lifted. I feel like I can go do me without guilt. And I can get over my stupid sister’s roommate transgressions. I ain’t coming close to her until I see demonstrated action that indicates she is loving and kind towards me, but suddenly, I can get over things. Oh, man, this feels so good! In this moment, I am starting to feel free. I guess telling on everyone makes it a bit better, even if I’m just telling it in a secret blog. But also recognizing that they can do it without me lifts some burden off my shoulders and allows me to think a bit wider. My mood has shifted and there is energy in my hips. Thank you, God. Ameen. I don’t know what to title this entry. This is a long one. And there’s more to it. It has occurred to me that I’ve been over here in the mud for far too long. And I’m over it. I’m so over it. Something has got to give. That’s the title of this entry and this chapter. Not in a romantic fantastical way, but in a way that works. Something has got to give. This life can’t just be about surviving and solving stupid problems and making it through. Somewhere, there has got to be the chance at thriving. Somewhere, there has got to be the chance at something good. Not just the chance. The realization. God help us. Ameen.

Lit or unlit? That was the question my therapist told me to ask myself when making a decision. That was over eight months ago. November 2020. It was the last time we talked. “Fight for your happiness. Or rather, allow your happiness” are the thoughts in the back of my mind.

Attachments. Like scary things on my back. This is the post. I am over myself. A word dump. This life has been a dump for me… The dumps I am down in. I am down in the dumps.

Unlit. That was what I saw when I looked around at my life. “You have gathered your self-worth now. You have passed the test.” I hear My People’s voice. My self worth has left me with nothing but myself. Misunderstood. Hated. Judged. Treated badly. Not always. I am aware that some of this is true and some I am taking too far, but all of it feels true. Everyone feels unsafe, taking, eating of me. Wanting. Always wanting. Not much giving of what I need. No awareness or interest in my needs for that matter. This is how I feel in this moment.

Low… Bitter. Most people think I’ve been bitter for years, but no. It is now, in these few weeks that I begin to know the feeling that I’ve seen on so many others’ faces for years. The bitters. Resentful. I am mad at so many people for asking so much of me that they never would imagine to give. I am mad at the world for not allowing me to be safe and sweet. I am mad at myself for taking so long to see. I am mad that I am not allowed to be mad even when I am mad. These strong girl tears are resented and the ones you have cradled while they were in the mud throwing mud at you are the same ones that have no arms for you in your pain. Instead, they lash you for not being their hero. They lash you for being low.

I am sad. And not delusional again. I say again instead of anymore because it is the thought pattern of the language I picked up from my mother’s land. Broken country. Broken language. Broken English.

“And what are we gonna do now?” My own thoughts taunt me. My own thoughts aren’t even nice to me. I swear to God, I can never get no pity. Not even from myself. So what will we do now?

I don’t really want to run away from anything. Go find some way to bandage pain. I finally admit I am too deep for that. I have been running for years in a circle. What is it I don’t want to face? My sadness? My failures? My inadequacies? They don’t scare me that much. So what is it?

My bigness.

I wanted to reach out today because today felt important. I was going to be brave and have all these talks, but I didn’t quite know what to say. Relationships have been falling apart, but I don’t want to save them. They were founded on shit. Excuse my language. But they just won’t do no more. Not as is. They’re full of shit and holes and so many things that no one wants. And maybe it’s me. Maybe I’m the sh*tty part, and if so, I just won’t do anymore. Not as is.

But something in me doesn’t feel like I’m that bad. Because I am always the one leaving and others want me to stay and are always calling me back. But they don’t love me while I’m there. In fact, they mostly hate me, but love whatever I bring to them. And that is hard to know and feel. What is harder, though, is not knowing what to do about it all. Because I Love them anyway and I wish they loved me, too. For real. Like I wish that I could feel it. I wish that I could feel Loved. I really do.

I’m sure it’s there. I’m sure I’ve done something good in this world and I’m even sure that some of the people that I feel so hurt by Love me… but I wish that I could feel it instead of sitting here crying all the time. I wish I could be happy for real.

It’s been a long time here in the mud, thrashing. Moving but not quite. I will say that I have made progress and find a way to celebrate. I have made progress and come a very long way. I was not even in my body when we started this journey. Was just hanging out on the outskirts trying not to feel pain. A hypersensitive empath coming from a people that are probably the most gangster humans I’ve ever met. What a comedy, God. And then you made me a girl. And super ugly first and then super pretty but not even knowing that people think I’m super pretty. What a set up for quite a story. What I want to get to now is the next chapter. In fact, I want to close this book. The end. The girl died. Yep. Dead. She gave up trying to figure all this painful stuff out and just poofed out of this world. Freedom at last! The ones left behind were just fine. They were impacted by her life and she was impacted by theirs and all for the betterment of themselves.

She failed at some things. She was not the hero they all wanted. She succeeded at others, but she didn’t know what those were. It was not for her to know. The seeds had been planted. And the angels applauded. She had tasted the bitters but they passed through her and did not stain her heart… And then what?

I guess why I am here today is to answer that question. Then what? I can’t really be here forever, in my brother’s room, hiding from decision and action. I mean, I could, but I’m pretty sure that’s not the answer anymore. I gotta say thank you, God. This is what I needed. I needed space where it was okay to be sad and mad and feel and see what was in me and take baths and not be bothered and have clean stuff and food around and at least if I wasn’t loved, to be around someone who didn’t hate me and was appreciative of whatever little I could give. Who would have thought that my brother whom I beefed with for years would be my saving grace right now? He gave me money, too, just because he thought I needed it. And I’ve been helping him, too. He needed help with stuff right now. I am glad to help him. I am realizing as I write this that we have made amends. This is our amends, isn’t it? … Thank God…

I took a break from writing this post. And on the break, I read a Facebook post by a lady claiming her age. She’s older than me, but not too much older. And she acknowledged her “Holy sadness… Sadness (she)… is actually feeling because (she)… knows better than to stuff it.” And I am saved. This.

This part. This is about holy sadness. Not just holy sadness, though. Good grief. Grown up stuff. This is about me finally accepting that I am grown up. I have lived a bit, and in it all, I have learned a thing or two. Not everything. But I have learned how to get out of this sh*t. I ain’t do all this crying for nothing. And yes, I could poof away. That is an answer and that is the answer for some people. I’m not judging them. I have learned, finally, not to judge.

I am not going to poof away. I have already poofed. That Laydie from just some months ago, from years ago, is no more. Nope. She has transitioned and I have been trying to hold on to a ghost. She has become a butterfly, but not really. More like a moth. Or a dragon or something without name. A beautiful wing-ed beast. I can paint the story however I want, you see? This is the freedom. The question I have now is do I want to paint or do I want a story to be painted through me? I am still intertwined in many’s lives and I will always be. I am the one to break the generational curses, I know. My momma been pushing it on me since I was a kid. I don’t know how or why I signed up for this sh*t, but it’s ok. I don’t have to accept this bullsh*t mission, but I can. We’ll see…

Maybe I’ll have sex. LOL. I don’t know if this post is going to make it to published, bc it’s maybe bit realer than I usually share. But, from the start till the end of the post, my mood has changed. The change in mood was instigated by reading an older lady claiming her age and not wanting to be identified as young and infantile, and realizing that that is an issue for many of us. We don’t realize that we are not kids anymore. We are old. Grownups. Not only that, but we don’t realize that we’ve learned a lot and it’s a good thing. We can solve problems differently now. We don’t need to be moored to a bed for years because someone we hoped would feel a certain way or treat us a certain way doesn’t. We can be hurt. It’s ok. This we have learned through our age. We can feel things now and it won’t sink us. We don’t have to escape our bodies like we did when we were little. We can be right here and feel, and the magic is, when we feel the stuff, it passes through us, and then we can feel good stuff again, too. Sometimes it takes a while to feel good again, but we can wait. We know this because we are old and we have learned patience. And wisdom. Wisdom has come. It has always been there, but we accept it now. Slowly. At a pace that doesn’t break us or make us feel manipulated. There are some urgent things, but most aren’t. Tend to the urgents. Just do it already. You don’t have to be happy about everything while you do the right thing. You can do the right thing and be mad. I learned that overseas. It’s a cool realization. But mad and resentful are not the same things. You can have feelings… I hear all my mentors and advisors clapping for me as I write this. I have passed some sort of test, it feels like.

I am finally flirting with the idea of letting go. Finally I felt the pain I had been carrying. I’ve been carrying a lot of bullshit pain. For a long, long time. It was a lot. Mine and so many others’. I had been afraid to let it go. But this will no longer do. I hear my guardian angels telling me to be careful. Just because I have let go does not mean others have. So be discerning. This has been my mistake before. Open up to everything, including the hells of the Earth, or shut down to everything. I can be discerning, because I am a grown up now. And I don’t have to do it all on my own anymore. I passed that test, too. I am so proud of myself! I passed. I was willing to be alone rather than betray my own knowing. I knew – I didn’t have the words, but I knew how certain people felt about me. They would not admit it, until I poked the bear and then they spit it out. I am this, that and the other and so I deserve all the malice and bad treatment in the world. That has been the nasty root of all this nonsense shitty shit shit. And I am sure that somewhere in me, conscience or sub, I have believed the same about them and about myself. That we are this, that and the other and so we deserve bad treatment.

Don’t give pearls to swine, my teachers voice whispers. I don’t know if I agree. If you give pearls to swine, just know that they are swine. Don’t expect them to value them and know that you have given something of great value to someone who will not value. Just do it on purpose for a purpose… I guess what I’m saying is that writing this entry has helped. And I have moved from feeling unlit to lit. Lit inside. I don’t know what to do about my relationships at all still, but I am excited about the thought of forgiving my own daggone self. Letting go of every Blessed debt. Every single one. I have been a hostage to these emotional debts for so long. I feel a bit freed up. And letting go of all debts I felt were owed to me. I have poofed and vanished. LOL. Debts canceled. No kids to take them on.

I will set a new intention now. To be intentional. This is what grownups do. I did not get to see what fathers do too much, but that’s OK. My father loved me anyway. But I know what mothers do. I know what my mother did. She made intentions for us. She didn’t get eight kids out of the ghetto by doing nothing. She planted some good seed in us. She made her own mistakes, but she has my forgiveness, too… I am rambling now.

I’ll post this. I’ll accept this opportunity to start anew and give others the same chance, too. It’s called Grace. But everyone doesn’t get to come back ’round. You gotta be nice to me to get this new frisky smile that’s forming. You gotta actually like me and act like it. And respect. Ooooh, I can’t wait to see what it feels like to be respected by someone near me. Awww man, that must be so awesome. I wonder if I could be one of those women who is cared about by a nice man. Someone who thinks they’re worthy of being held and puts up with all their issues. That would be so super. I keep thinking I gotta go get ready or do some healing to be worthy of like, even thinking that I dare be lit up, but it’s not true. I’ve already done the work.

Can I just say one more thing? I failed. Yep. At many things. Some things are salvageable, but some aren’t. My grandma is dead. Six days before she died, she was robbed and her security cameras were disable. I told my mom, “You need to send someone to the house. They are trying to kill (grandma)” the minute I heard she was robbed. But no one made it to the house. I didn’t make it happen and no one else did. And she was dead six days later. I don’t know if she was killed. Only the people who were there with her truly know how she died… I feel like I failed at keeping her safe and like I failed at so many other things. Like my life should have been better than this by now. So many people looked up to me and look up to me to save the day and pave the way for so much. I didn’t fully realize the scale of superhero-ness with no support that people expected of me till this recent breakdown in relationships. But I get it. I’m big. And people see it in me even if I don’t see it in myself. I’m finally starting to see it. I just want to say something, though, for the big people who fail. For the big failures. I’m not going to sugarcoat it and say you didn’t fail because you learned some lesson or blah blah blah. It’s not true. You failed.

But what is true is that you can forgive yourself. You don’t have to beat yourself up for it for the rest of your life. You can forgive yourself and try again. And if you aren’t able to try again, if it’s too much, that’s ok, too. Sometimes it’s too much. Sometimes you really will die if you try to do certain things in certain circumstances and the thing is not what you’re willing or wanting or needing to give your life for. So forgive yourself, K? Even if the person you hurt won’t forgive you. Say sorry if that’s what you feel in your heart. Make amends if that’s what it’s supposed to be, and let yourself go. Let yourself be free.

I’ve talked a whole big fat mouthful in this blog and I don’t even know where I was going or coming from. I’m not rereading or editing this. Not even going to scroll back up to see where I started. Kind of want to share something raw because I think it helps. This time, it will help someone. I know. I started off thinking about being lit and unlit, with no hope for lighting my fire. But before I finished writing, I see a small flame in my belly that is, in fact, still lit. I’m going to go and find someone to have sex with now. That’s it. To light this fire. I know I’m not supposed to say or share that, but that’s the doggone Truth.

Be Blessed. Stay Well.

Love,
Me

Day 551
This Fire (Good Grief)

My last post was “Apply Knowledge” three months ago. Very timely. Hello world. I’m brand new again. Wanted to touch base with you. I’ve been hesitating on telling the truth, even to myself, and definitely scared of telling the truth here because so many people I know read this blog. But I need to tell the Truth so I can move on. My life sucks. It’s amazing, but it kind of sucks. My relationships are not what I want them to be, especially my relationships with family. And if I tell the Truth, I’m gonna say a lot of mean things about family and friends, and maybe they’ll say a lot of mean things about me, too, but I’m kind of carrying feelings that I don’t want to hold, and so I need to unload. I have run away. From my house. Because I have some work to finish and my living environment was not the ideal place to get it done in the timeframe I need to complete it… I don’t want to say too much, except I feel guilty focusing on me all day at home, because I feel like my housemates want my time, attention, and help and they resent me for focusing time on myself instead of doing whatever it is they want me to do when they want me to do it. My key housemate is my sis. Let me tell you bout my sis. Or rather, let me tell you bout this relationship dynamic. When my sis was seventeen, my mom left town for work for a while. I was an adult and I had just faced the first real disappointment of my life. Up until then, I never even realized that everything I had ever put my efforts towards, I had always gotten. I didn’t even know that failure was an option until I failed real big. I had joined with other siblings to buy a big house for my mom, and, through a series of events, we lost the house. I tried my very best. I had did my part to make sure we kept the house, but my partner in the house buying didn’t do her part. And we didn’t have the money to keep paying the mortgage. I found out late. I hustled as much as I could, gathered people together to pay mortgage, but I couldn’t find a job to save my life. And at the time I was in grad school. And grad school was hard. And it was around the time our thesis was due. I failed. We lost the house. I didn’t do my thesis on time. And I took a year off. I had an apartment with my 23-year old sis, and my youngest sis moved in with us. She was 17. Long story short, she was doing teenage stuff and lying about stuff. My spidey sense suspected as much and so I looked through her phone to see what she was up to. I found out that she had had a plan to skip school. Talks of boys and friends were in the plan. And so I fronted her. It was actually kind of interesting. She was supposed to use my mom’s car to execute her ditching plan. I, too, needed to used my mom’s car so that I could go somewhere that day. So I asked her to use the car that day. Said I’d drop her off at school. She made up a bunch of inconsistent lies about why I couldn’t drop her off. At the end, she dropped me off and then I asked her what she was doing that day. She told me whatever and then I asked, “Are you sure you’re not doing such and such (whatever I had seen on her phone)?” She was shocked. She started crying and saying I violated her for reading her phone instead of apologizing for lying and trying to play me. Later, we talked. I told her I wanted us to be sisters and share things. She told me she didn’t feel comfortable sharing things with me… That was many years ago. And that’s the dynamic I feel we’re in today. I had written a whole thing about our issue today, but WordPress deleted the middle of my entry somehow and only left the ending. So we don’t need to talk about our situation today. It’s for the best. The root of the situation with sis is not what’s currently happening. The root of the situation is me not feeling Loved or valued or appreciated or respected… My sis not feeling like I’m there for her and constantly guaranteeing that experience by asking for help at the very most inconvenient time possible with little notice and being downright unpleasant, disrespectful, closed off, sneaky and ungrateful when I’m there for her, thereby shifting my interest in wanting to be around her, ‘cus I ain’t tryna abused or disrespected or taken for granted, and therefore I leave and end up not being there for her or being there for her but not really feeling it… This will be funny to the people who can’t stand my guts. God told me to not change a doggone thing. Learn to forgive myself more. Apologize and/or make amends for whatever hurts you’ve given out and then forgive yourself on behalf of all the people who won’t forgive you. Set boundaries and expectations in your house that include emotional safety for yourself and others. Lead and encourage the youngers to be leaders, too, and stand up and participate in the creation of a positive home life. Now is the time. They won’t believe you’ve changed. Just stay consistent. Forgive yourself, Laydie. Over and over and over. Forgive others. Over and over and over. Don’t hold back Love. Just keep Loving. Even if people don’t appreciate it. Some things – very few – are family emergencies and obligations and responsibilities. Participate and accept those with Love and an open heart. Anything else? Go where the Love is. Go where you want to give the Love. You’re not a martyr, or even a hero. The most heroic thing you can do is be good to yourself and kind to yourself. Don’t worry about being good and kind to others. That’s a given with you. When you are good, everyone around you always wins. And your family? Like Claire says, “(You’re) entire family is blessed by… (your) ability to advance… (your) success and level of influence in the world. At the center of their being, they are deeply supportive of and grateful for… (your) success and fulfillment.”… I’m grateful for this blog. It is a place for me to sort things out. Nothing does it like this blog. Even my journals don’t give me clarity like writing in this blog. I’m grateful for all the gifts I’ve gotten in this world. My journey to this fantasy place called happy has been arduous, but it has been worth it. I’ve come a long, long, long way from where I started and I’m proud of myself. Can I just say some good things about myself for a minute, and then I’ll get offline. I’m proud of myself for this moment. These are life long dynamics that I’m dealing with. An empath with no boundaries is a recipe for death and finally I am learning and healing… You know, I have a friend who reads this blog just so he can judge me. Stop my reading my damn blog and find something better to do with your energy than judge everybody. Let me work through my issues with Grace. Please and thank you…. Please and thank you… Ameen Day 550 Ameen