So choosing ‘cloudedness’ seemed like the best alternative. But it didn’t work last night. I laid in my bed, watching a movie, and I felt like there was a cloak of sadness squeezing the life out of my body. I’m training myself to find an escape route whenever it gets that bad, and after a few minutes of allowing the tears to stream down my face…I turned on my ‘T.V.’ (tunnel vision). I knew the feeling I wanted to feel when I reached the end of it…so I figured out how to keep my thoughts moving in a way that propelled me in that direction. And…gratitude appeared.

When traffic started moving, I was jolted back into the knowing that my reality will never be what I had conceived… for the me I was at his age. I’ll never know what the feeling of stability would’ve felt like…or what it would’ve been like to have my own space. I’ll never have the privilege to ride my bike to the backyard and lay it by the door of a home owned by my parental figure. And I’ll never know what the security would’ve felt like, knowing I wouldn’t have to change locations when the lease was up. I’m all grown up and I can’t get that time back to rewrite history. But after finishing my workout…I settled on the fact that I can continue to push for the children in my ‘family’ to have their own version of that.

I believe everyone in my family grew up in a trap house, but pride blocks that reality from penetrating some psyches. I’m able to articulate that truth in a way that pierces their defense mechanisms though. So they learned a new one…ex-communication. Go figure. But that piercing happens because the voice I speak from, comes from knowing that my father didn’t want children when he had them. My ‘mother’ did. But my ‘mother’ only wanted a child because she wanted my father…she didn’t want children when she had them either. Hence the lack of foresight. That knowing has stunted the growth of my soul. And the trauma associated with that knowledge allows me to tell the women, in my ‘family’, the brutal truth about themselves.

During that week, I was able to leave that toxic relationship and focus solely on the healthy routines I’ve purposefully been engaged in recently. But I got pregnant again…with this blog. Up until this point I’ve had two metaphorical abortions with this project. Those seeds were conceived after past familial toxic break ups, that left me feeling rejected. As a result, I impregnated that rejection into my energy and conceived seeds who needed validation. But this ‘break baby’ was conceived in an environment where I felt accepted by myself. And now that I’m paying more attention to the energy I allow my child to consume, I can see that the energy of this blog shifts every time I allow myself to entertain the people I left.

This screen shot triggered a response from my twin because my conspiracy theories have always been her way in, when driving home her claims of my mental imbalance. I’m going to post the subsequent conversation. In this exchange, I exposed what I’ve been assuming is the plan to sacrifice me. And…my empty victory was handed to me because those participating in the ‘alleged’ plot…disappeared. It’s been over 24 hours…and those who spent the last few years going back and forth with me…are now silent. Still no talks on how to heal the family, so these kids don’t repeat our mistakes though. So…it was an empty win.

After questioning myself a bit…my self advised that I am being extremely abusive in these chats. (And spellcheck advised I spelled bullies wrong.) But I look at my behavior as pollination. I’m the ‘bullybee’ that took a little bit of abuse from each of the toxic flowers in my ‘family’…over a 22 year period. And I’m now sharing what I collected…with the same flowers responsible for turning the pollen into a toxin. I tried transmuting what they gave me in the beginning…but they like to tussle. So I stepped into the unknown and met them where they are.

I’ve tried my best not to allow too much of what’s really happening in my personal life to trickle into this blog. I told myself that this go round…if I bring up a problem…I have to focus more on the solution. I think I have a little bit of ‘truth tellers’ remorse from my last attempt at this, mainly because I was too honest…about too much. But I can’t not share what happened today. I will focus more on the good than the bad…but I need to get into some thangs. Because it’s absolutely astonishing to me how this world flows. I never know what I’m going to get from day to day…but I still show up. And I received confirmation today, that showing up is all I was being asked to do.

I feel like this imagining is necessary because from the time we’re able to comprehend our existence…we’re taught what our reality is…by the use of made up words. So as a tiny act of defiance towards the limitation of language…I now string words together that have absolutely no business living in the same neighborhood. By the time I finish, I’ve made myself laugh…thus getting me through to the next lesson. I realize now that this technique works best after a very intense trigger. And today, I had the privilege of a well manicured trigger finger, belonging to one of my mother’s maternal minions…forcefully pulling at the nape of my last nerve. So in dedication to the calmness I was able to glide on…while passing through the wasteland of carefully crafted sibling rivalry…I want to discuss what I feel the moon is and…I’ll be as detailed as possible.

I’ve had a long standing issue with the idea of 'mental health’ in my time here on Earth. I‘ve briefly spoken on the family group chats I started and the overall sentiment, of my ‘family’, is that I should be checked into a mental hospital. Their reasoning was legitimized, to them, a year or so after I started the chats. That’s when I told my extended ‘family’ that I felt like my immediate ‘family’ was attempting to sacrifice me. For sake of trying to cosplay a ‘normal’ person…I’ll keep to myself whether or not I still believe that to be true. But after seeing the recent situation play out of the two musically famous parents and their ‘playboy’ son, at the football game…I’m revisiting the conversation.

But emotional abuse was still an issue for me and the men I attracted after him. Because I still hadn’t learned the power of a soft tongue. So I kept attracting mirrors I refused to look in. During this time of solitude, I‘ve been given the opportunity to finally learn how to use my words for creation…instead of destruction. Prior to the start of my healing…I thought verbal abuse, to myself and others, meant I had power. And I was never able to satisfy my appetite. I can only imagine the emotional scars I left on my x’s. But the lesson was never to leave, heal and come back. Because going back to abuse is the biggest indicator that the lesson needs to be learned all over again.

I gave more thought to what I could do to purposefully connect to my mini-me…so that I can get closer to healing the part of me that attracts voice silencing triggers. I ended up envisioning myself sitting across from all of my inner children (me at different ages)…meditating on the mutual understanding that their thoughts are valid…and so is their voice. And the word ‘playdate’ came to mind. That phrase is usually meant to describe a date set by parents…for their children to play together. So I feel like I’m on brand because at this point, I’m the parent of multiple inner children. And it’s up to me to set aside time for their growth, by doing things to sustain their happiness.

I didn’t realize, until today, that my BM’s most recent declaration of my ‘bipolarism’, was no different than her refusal to give me the main ingredient for her Thanksgiving stuffing. I was going against what she wanted to have happen. So she took the main ingredient out of my inner circle…my ‘family’. I can clearly see that I’m without them…by using my eyesight. But when I use my isight, I’m able to come to terms with why that is. My ‘family’ doesn’t want anyone looking at the roots of our tree. They just want everyone who passes to gasp at the beauty of the imagery. I can not. So I’m learning how to find peace in only being in the company of God. Conversing with God forces me to grow…and the only conversation my family is comfortable having, revolves around maintaining stagnancy. And…I’m not a fan.

This journey to heal myself has given me the ability to make peace with my flaws. And it helped me realize that God used the isolation that resulted from them, to serve as a shield for my soul. Because an unhealed soul can’t attract a healed one. And two unhealed souls can do a lot of damage to each other. In order to become healed…I had to detach from the idea that being attached to someone, outside of myself, would magically give me a sense of love. And flowing through the rejection that my present day isolation (re)birthed, gave me the ability to give myself the kind of love I craved.

Telling the truth has left me on an island with no other option but to build my trust in self. This trust, coincidently, is what’s needed to train my thoughts in the direction of allowing my instincts to flow freely. Dealing with my family, before I started speaking my truth, was equivalent to me doing my yoga moves with my eyes open. I learned to flow with the visible dysfunction because that pacified my false sense of control. But that also destabilized my instincts. Now, I’d rather learn to find balance in the darkness…by continuing to train/trust my thoughts (the unseen). 

“I wish I had been strong enough in that moment to sit in the awkward silence. But instead…I allowed myself to seek out validation at the expense of another person.”

I’ve been attempting to write a blog since 2020. I have two failed attempts behind me and I’m hoping the third is charmed by my commitment to this delusion. I’m probably one of the most private people you’ll ever come in contact with but…the desire to document my day to day experiences, for others to read, keeps reaching out to me. Normally I’m not this self-involved but my Bipolar diagnosis…and my recent excommunication from my ‘family’, that resulted from my inability to control my ‘mania’, feels like it’ll be a good read.