Counterpart competition…between men…isn’t talked about enough. Especially since that competition…has led to a loose lip epidemic. I call these men run it backs. Because they run back and tell their boys everything. I noticed this breed always has one quality in common: a need to fit in. So they go out their way to obtain bragging rights for the public. But in private…they project their faults onto whatever woman they’re using, in their ick measuring contests. IMO, men who need so much same sex validation…were usually raised by feminine fathers…or masculine mothers. And they act accordingly when seeking out social acceptance in the eyes of their peers. Which wouldn’t be an issue…if running through women, in order to give the appearance of mAnHoOd…and then gossip gworling those runs…wasn’t what’s socially acceptable.

I was possessed by pettiness. I created another chat, with just my immediates, to talk about the triggers from last week. I gained nothing and got gaslit. I re-entered the old chat to have the same conversation I’ve been having for the last 6 years. I gained even less…and lost my desire to write a real post today. Screenshots below.

The recent corno, shot in the chat, was still irritating me. So I shadow worked and saw that my sibling soul irritation…comes from them intentionally ignoring…our sh!t show. Choosing to talk about everything but our problems… is provocative. Because that’s why I started the chat. They were taught this type of deflection from a lifetime of observing our BM’s inability to communicate her feelings. Which has always been my manic button. The rinse and repeat is meant to (re)traumatize me, by mimicking the maternal neglect I experienced in childhood…when my BM failed to take me for treatment…for the same same disorder she’s currently conditioning my siblings to weaponize against me…in order to stop another conversation…that could’ve led to healing.

I felt guided to look through some of my older blog posts earlier. After the initial shock at how many yards I ran away from comma usage…I realized I owe someone the kind of apology…that’ll never reverse the damage that was done…with the words in my repeat run-ons. Back then I had no way of knowing that the selfishness of my sentences would put me in position, to have a clearer view of his defense…mechanisms. But I should’ve known this was the predetermined play, being set up by God. Because the hatefulness of his…mirrored the maliciousness of mine. Which revealed the me behind the mask, that no one was able to get me to see…before him.

Taking time to pour praise into my psyche has been a non negotiable. Because everyone I’m connected to energetically…just dedicated their time to taking turns…attempting to drain tf out of me. I went out of my way not to Goof Troop in the chat. But the full moon still brings out my frequency feens. So when my twin randomly text, the day of, I role played. (SSs below) I took the opportunity to transmute lingering trauma…and moved around. The next day, after failing to reach my recklessness…I was given some post dated ‘familial’ news…that they knew would f*ck with me. It didn’t…I addressed it…and mocked the mOmS. Instead of taking the L…another attempt at agitation was made today. Now, I’m trying to figure out which doctor I can see…to cast out the sacrifice symptoms they intentionally induce…every moon cycle.

There’s a lot of people, once labeled crazy for believing in things that weren’t socially acceptable, who are now being vindicated…by the same people who gave them that label. Alleged alien sightings are the best example of this. Because no one with a nOrMaL set of eyes, would ever publicly claim to have seen beings…that we were all brainwashed into believing don’t exist. But now, our government is on the brink of debunking the narrative of non-existence…that they helped create. Which leaves someone like me, with the clear understanding on my paranormal gift, wondering when everyone will stop pretending…that the spiritually gifted aren’t intentionally being misdiagnosed as mentally ill…by those who benefit from not being exposed…by those who possess the ability to see the satanic nature of souls…hiding behind sanctity.

My refusal to heal…encouraged me to hurt…other people. This refusal was a result of being too numb to feel the hurt I was causing myself. So I projected that hurt onto others…in an attempt to witness my own pain…being felt. As a form of volatile validation. When I do this…I refer to it as projectile vomiting. Because I spray all the sh!t inside of me…onto whoever I’m closest to. Which is why I’ve been using journaling as a crutch for so long. It’s allowed me to Burn Book my way through all the emotions…that I haven’t actually wanted to feel. But the longer I disconnect from this therapeutic process, that I turned toxic, the less desire I have to displace my demons…onto anyone else. And now it’s forcing me to feel the accountability that was hidden behind the emotions…that I’ve been writing off…as someone else’s problem.

My emotions have been arrogant asf lately. Because they know I’m feeling them….more than I used to. Finding my way through what’s real/imagined is harder to do, when comprehending them seems outside of my reach. So falling back from writing, everyday, is making it easier to stick beside em’. The sporadic silence I’ve been sitting in, brings me back to the understanding that my healing will take a lifetime. It’s also validating that the pressure that’s been inflicted on my psyche these past handful of years, was intentionally done…to induce stress related hallucinations. Which is the same psyop technique used on me since childhood…that led to my diagnosis. Disconnecting from that stress heals me. But the more I heal…the more I mysteriously aTTrAcT stressors.

I feel like I’m finally growing. Because the time frame from when I experience emotional exhaustion…to when I source its spiritual meaning…has shortened. And after deciding to quit this project again yesterday, it took less than a day to realize…that my soul was tired. When I first started, I didn’t fully understand how important self-preservation was. Then…I manifested monitoring spirits, whose quality of life…seem dependent on the deconstruction of mine. Saying that out loud used to make me feel deserving of my diagnosis. So I chose to lid my lunacy. But my refusal to acknowledge what I was experiencing was draining my desire to write. Which is why I’m deciding to temper my typing…for the days I feel like writing.

I’m a fan of retaliation…when it’s done right. IMO, strategy is the only non negotiable. Which is why I’ve never successfully licked anyone back…when I intentionally try to. Because when I’m in my feelings…I move with the kind of emotions…that can easily be used against me. But when I sit with any given offense, long enough to figure out why I’m offended, my spirit intuitively puts me in the perfect position…to return the favor. And it usually happens in a way that’s oblivious to my conscious mind…but overtly obvious to the targets. Unfortunately, the ones who get hit…don’t always have the amount of patience it can take…to run a route like this. So they force fumble their way into revealing…their Inner G(oofies).

‘Everybody must be judged’. Some try to get around the gavel…by way of evidence tampering though. This can defer sentences in the 3D, but it’s an impossibility in the 5D (spiritual). Because God searches hearts for intent. And I’ve been able to avoid dozens of death (sacrifice) sentences, solely based on what He sees…when He adjudicates over the aftermath of my released rage. Earlier today, I witnessed something that almost led to another near death experience. It involved some boomeranged karma, from all the damage I’ve caused…misleading people who’ve trusted me. But I acknowledged my wrongs…right before I almost made the mistake of manifesting more mania. So He gave me a plea deal.

I’ve been told to get on medication more times than I’m comfortable admitting. Self-medication always appealed to me more though. And crying is my drug of choice, when I’m experiencing too many emotions at once. The stream of tears personifies all the pressure I feel, and allows me to acknowledge that it isn’t just a figment of my imagination. But sometimes…I prefer the stimulating version of this depressant. This is when I start craving cocoa-cane. Our history suggests this habit isn’t good for me. Because I usually end up desiring it daily. So I’m fighting temptation…until I learn to exhibit self-control. Which has been hard. Since the stress that chocolate relieves…also induces the type of release…that makes my eyes water.

Reparenting my parents wasn’t the life I saw for myself growing up. But…my grandmother’s daughter has a (diagnosed) bipolar maternal figure….soooo. We had to have another reparenting session last week. Because she had an issue with my niece playing in her makeup. She chose to delay her frustration, until my niece inevitably got some on her dress though. Then, everything went left. I was triggered by childhood memories of my own inability to locate her logic…when she played house with the pin cushions she birthed. So I patronized her while pointing out how her inability to set boundaries…forces her to find other reasons to express anger…when someone crosses the boundary…that she never set. Just like how her mom used to do her.

Ion fight fair when I deal with someone I’ve dropped my guards for. Because all my weaknesses have already been exposed. Which is exactly why an ex ‘someone’ wants to lay me out right now…real bad. Normally I’d blindside him with Bolo teas, just to remind him who he’s not f*cking with. But atp, I realize his fade fixation…is so he can justify the emotional abuse…that he was already wanting to follow through with. This mutually abusive behavior was our norm. And we used it to distract us from acknowledging that this season should’ve ended…last year. So instead of giving him a fight that’ll keep our energies engaged…I’m choosing to spend my time figuring out why I entertained this entanglement for so long.

My unhealed trauma earns all my karmic debt. Because that trauma blurs my perception to the point that it convinces me…my toxicity towards others is justified. It also allows me to take offense to everything, in order to validate my victimhood…and avoid accountability. So, I mANiFeSt like minded energies. This helps me plausibly deny my involvement in shifting blame…because their behavior is never not as bad as mine. These unions technically qualify as fraud because they’re completely codependent on borrowing from benefits of the doubt. But the word of neither partner, can fully be trusted. And our inability to stop crossing each other’s limits…always leaves us owing more forgiveness…than we can afford to give out.

What’s frustrating is the fact that there will never be a shortage of these basic benches. Since most of them substitute self-esteem…for male validation. And they’ll change everything about themselves…to fit the mold of a man’s preference. Even when this man’s behavior constantly reminds them, it was pointless to alter their ‘before’…because he still finds no real value in their ‘after’. But all the work that went into getting played, forms a trauma bond…that’s usually never broken. Which forces the spares to sit back and wait for any opportunity to be used. This is the type of soul tie that I pray never finds me…again. Because these souls are tied to the belief that their patience…will eventually change the game.

I’ve dealt with a few twin flames and a few soul mates. It’s always the same two energies on either side though. So, I basically attract two love types…with two different spirits…that jump bodies. By the time their expiration dates arrive…I’ve lost all interest in downplaying my ability to parlay with psychosis. This…has never not led to me doing something I can’t come back from. Because…I usually owe them that. Which is where I’m at now but I chose to be intentional with this set. I did this by pairing my reaction with their level of importance. And my actions reflected that I can live without my heart (twin flame)…because it only affects my physical reality. But living without my soul would alter my entire existence.

I'm an open book…now…even when it doesn’t serve me. Because I never know which one of my words will relieve the pressure put on me…to keep my emotions bottled up. Most of what I say is meant to induce introspection. But my ability to dissect my own dysfunction is usually seen as rage bait, to people who aren’t ready to acknowledge that my truth…exposes theirs. Instead of healing the wounds behind the walls they put up, they get hooked on humbling me. And it took me a while to figure out that they use this obsession to distract themselves…from how small I make them feel. Which makes sense. Since my diagnosis suggests I shouldn’t have the mental capacity…to invoke feelings of inferiority within them.