E.M.’s Flashback Friday – October 22, 2021

Each Friday, Fandango has a Flashback Friday to bring current one of our past posts. I did not have one for the 22nd on any of my submissions, which was funny to me, but I was not always consistent on posting. The post I am going to share with you is a poem from April 23, 2017. It was written right before my marriage ended.

Photo by Markus Spiske on Pexels.com



There I sat weeping head in palms
Awaiting you to see me for who I am
Or who I was going to be

There I stood contemplating your mood
Wanting to reach out to you open-armed
But you turned your back to me

Why is this such a difficult task for us?
I ask with sad feelings and heart broke down
Do you see that I am returning your love?

There I listened to complaints of their woes
Hoping that there would be an end to the pain
And I failed yet again at making smiles on our faces

There I saw you moving forward away from me
Anguishing in the complexity of the situation
Only to feel more gut-wrenching sorrow from you

There I am…alone.

© E.M. Kingston

E.M.’s Photo Challenge #386

This is the first time using this Photo Challenge prompt from Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, and I am really excited to try it. I am going to mix the word challenges in this creation, and I hope you all enjoy it.

Photo Credit: Caters

He looks down at the dirty streets filled with cars and people, and he wonders what it would feel like to fall. Tears fill his eyes in a flood of emotion, and he runs his fingers along the underside of groovy edges on the cement balcony upon which he sits while peeking over the edge of his knees. He feels like his life is an allusion of what he should be, and the sounds coming from below are bloodcurdling, loud, and triggering.

He is too scared to push off forward to his demise, and he hopes someone will come to save him from himself. He wants to look back but can only look down. His face flushes with fear, and his ears feel as hot as the sun in the desert.

Then it happened. He no longer felt like he was on fire. He feels divine intervention holding onto him as his heart races, causing a shiver in his bones.

“I can’t do this”, he says to himself. He slowly backs his bottom to where he can put each leg in a safe place and exits his looming demise.

“I have too much life to live to go out like this. Thank you, God!”

He exits the balcony, grabs a bottle of water, and walks out the door to never go back again.

Sideways Conundrums – Day 3 and 4

So…back in 2017, I moved here. I did not really want to upend my life and live on someone else’s terms. I owned my land and my house. Here I would be living under the roof with the same woman that nailed me down to the floor and beat me in the back until I could not walk well before I was even in my teens. The deciding factor was that she told me I would be safe here, so I trusted her. People change right? Pfft. That’s complete bullshit…sometimes the change is for the worse.

The psychoticism I’ve encountered since moving here has been nonstop since May of 2018, but I was and still am in no position to stand up for myself. I started therapy to try to get me through all of the changes happening in my life. I tried to stay to myself. I kept my mouth shut and my eyes open. Until the day I could no longer be someone’s speedbag that they just punching over and over and over again, in the literal sense…not the physical. There was one time she got physical with her abuse during a tantrum where she was tossing lawn furniture, but it was after I threw a small, square, under a pound Kleenex box at her rear end to make her stop ruining stuff. Her tantrum trigger me and scare me.

I don’t like anger, and I hate confrontation, mostly because I am usually the one who will pop someone in the mouth first for the disrespect. I never liked being an angry person, and I got help with my anger. It’s just one of the things that go along with having a broken brain…Sidetracked again, my bad.

Long story short, I worked really hard to try to build a life for myself here and failed. Some of it was my fault, and some was the people around me and their actions. I am moving back to Arkansas…a place I never wanted to call home again because I felt like I was born to live in California. It’s scary. It’s intimidating. I’m not okay…but I’m here.

I have spent over 24 hours in manic depression, severe anxiety, and feeling of hopelessness. My head is pounding. My self-esteem is in the toilet with my pride, and I am fucking tired. I am tired of fighting to feel like a human being that is not a complete waste of time and space. It’s been a bad Day 3 and 4 to say the least.

Dark is the Night

Good morning everyone! I am going to do something a little different today for my word of the day. I am going to combine three blogs’ words of the day, and I am going to write it in the poetry style, Alliterisen, which I first saw from one of the blogs I follow called The skeptic’s kaddish. I will be doing three sequences of the style. The words of the day that I will be using are gallery from Word of the Day Challenge, black from The Daily Spur by Nox, and Kafkaesque from Fandango’s One Word Challenge. I wanted to try something new and really challenge myself, and I also wanted to feature many different blogs for you guys to check out. I hope you enjoy, and I always welcome feedback! *smiles* Here we go!


They are there in the darkest nights

To greet me, so to say, with their despair

I despise when they find me

Daring me to let them in my head

Light is lacking, black, dark

A gallery of Kafkaesque pictures

I feel no power, no control


The trouble comes to me at my sleep

It is not dreams that come to me these slumbers

I am at their use, their device

Like a minion, the nightmare consumes me

I try to awaken, shook

My nerves balled up in fear, I scream loud

Heart pounding, I sit straight up, no breath


Dark is the night that finds you while sleeping

The blackness surrounding my bed consumes my soul

The pictures in my head feel too real

Uncontrollable, scary, powerless schemes

These night terrors put into me

Mind objectified, like a possession

No tranquility, my sleep only fright

Being safe is not my right

Today’s word of the day for the Daily Spur by Nox is “safe”, which is appropriate for the lack of it I have had for a while now.


A house is a home

I lost mine long ago

Wrong choices, always

Put me in complexity, chaos

Over and over again, I try

Try to find the home from past

That had me safe from harm

As my life fills will malignant surroundings

It seems more often than not

To fall victim to myself, I’ll admit

No excuses to be made or declared

Being safe has never been my right

It’s been struggle and strife

To feel secure, rest without worry

Close my eyes, is torture

Open my eyes, I see hate

It’s always been like this

My inner-self is not compatible

With normality, if that’s what compares

I’m different, flighty and quirky

I’m bold and outspoken, mostly

When not cowering to bullies, abusive people

I attract them, you know?

Bad people, narcissistic people

I become pray, appear weak

Lack of security is my price

Give too many chances

Hurt is always the end game

Towards me, a doormat of abuse

A portal of toxic attraction

Hit more times than I can count

Called more names than I would repeat

In this house, that house

All but my own…and lost that to

Adulterous, abusive husband

Almost 14 years, walked away

Tossed like garbage to nonsense

More abuse, chaos, names, and narcissisms

It’s always blood that burns you

It’s always bad choices by me

It’s always unsafe, scary, triggering

I keep losing myself, truly

Because the feeling of safe

Is not my right…

Or so it seems at year 45

It’s my own fault…

I was wired wrong, broken

From day one, I did not grow

Spoiled at youth, I did not learn

I discarded any guidance

I rebelled to the highest capacity

And now I’m here…unsafe.


There is so much missing from this story, but I really could write a book about my life. I have not had safety since living with my grandma, and when she passed, all of my safety was stolen from me by family. I got it back for a while. I owned my own land and home, and I had to walk away to save myself, my children, and my sanity. California was supposed to be my big move to start a new life, and I ended up being controlled and abused from about month 4 of being here. I have been here since December of 2017, when my now ex-husband dumped me out here like yesterday’s garbage. My life became her (my sister’s) life to control, which this is a sister I shared a room and grew up with as a child. Abusive to me then, and she has still not changed. I admit I am not easy to share space with, but it’s because I am grown and have my own demons I fight daily. I did not move her for her to mother, boss, and go back to the girl that used to beat me in the back for not letting her talk to her boyfriend when he called on the landline when I was just little…under 16 years old. My grandma saved me that day…she was always my savior. She loved us both though, and she never took sides. She did protect me from her and my mother though…but that is a whole new story. More to come, my friends and followers….

xoxo E.M.

My Version of Crazy

My mind races to a million or more negative places, it seems

I am the queen of my own torture, as I cannot stop the thoughts…

“Maybe everyone would prosper if I did not exist”

Then the worry comes…

Of who will love my children, my dogs, my little unnecessary stuff that surrounds me…

Who will I hurt?

Who will I bring to my level of despair with my selfish undertaking?

A conundrum of thoughts race around my brain like a hummingbird’s wings flap.

I’m screaming inside and quiet on the out…fake smiles filling my tired face.

I promise myself things will improve…get better…appease myself…

Rarely happens

Pain keeps stacking on my shoulder like a game of Jenga…weighing and unstable…

When will the tower fall atop of me, I wonder?

Who will pull the detrimental piece of the mental block inside my brain that causes me to fall?

I hope I never find out…


From the time I wake up and until I lay down again and again and again

I feel lost

I feel sad

I feel unmovitavated

I feel alone

I feel betrayed

I feel hopeless

I feel worry

I am in despair.

I wake up again to more triggers and more backstabbing

A repeated cycle of feelings above…and despair

I’m tired

I’m suffering

I’m struggling to breath

I fall victim to myself

I give up

I go back to bed

I cry myself to sleep…

And repeat.

This cannot keep going on.

It’s been a while…

There have been many things that have happened in my life since my last post. This will be a long post and a daunting read, but I needed to share it somewhere to start my healing process. It’s an everyday struggle to feel normal when you are not the textbook version of normal. There has been so much happen, good and bad, in my life that I need to share and express…ramble.

In November of 2020, I lost the love of my life due to some really crazy circumstances that happen in the toxic house that I live in, but we will touch on that later with some ramblings and expressions. However, not everything has been bad since you last heard from me. Losing him from my life for a while, did have some really negative consequences for my mental health though. The grass is not always greener on the other side…real talk.

Lets see…on December 13, 2020, I was blessed with my first grandbaby…a little girl that stole my heart. In May of this year, I graduated from my local community college with two Associate transfer degrees, and I completed them in less than two years in Administration of Justice and Political Science. I lived and breathed college work. I had to and needed to do that for myself and to make a point to those who have never believed in me, including my own mother. While busting my arse to get all of that done, I also completed all of my general education requirements to transfer to any college within California State University…all while being active in my student community as the Public Relations Officer, Vice President, and President of the Beta Phi Lambda Chapter of Phi Theta Kappa (PTK), where I earned a Leadership Award and a completed the Competitive Edge Program within PTK. It was something I would have never seen myself doing 10 or 15 years ago because all I had ever been was a momma and a housewife. My current goal is to get certified as a paralegal to help work with lawyers who focus on wrongful convictions and police brutality cases. My dream goal is to become a lawyer, and I still think I can make that dream come true. I have the tools to get me there, and I am working towards all of my goals, dreams or otherwise. It’s going decent, but my mental illness has made concentration a bit frustrating. All in all…I am glad that I made the move from Arkansas to California, since I do not believe I would have had these kinds of opportunities there between having an abusive ex-husband and no educational growth beyond working at a Walmart. I volunteer my time with the American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU) in California because I know how it feels to lose everything due to an unjust and unfair system that we live in. I have found a voice in being an activist. I have met some great people in my process, and at the end of this post, they will receive their credit for adding to my growth and being positive figures in my life.

Everything here began perfect in my eyes, but this relocation to California has definitely had its ups and downs. As much as I would love to focus on all the positives, this uprooting my life to start a new one has been chaos on my mental health. A few months ago, I was diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD), which would explain my major depressive episodes and disabling anxiety. My life has never really went the way I ever wanted it to, and I always figured I was being punished for something I did in my past or a choice that I had made throughout my young life to adulthood. This process of moving to California and finding a new version of myself has become being a people pleaser to everyone around me, which is part of the illness too. I am hard to live with because of my anxious and depressive episodes, but I try to figure out why everyone finds it “okay” to abuse me in one way or shape or form. It has been that way my whole life, and I always try to figure out why I deserve it or why it keeps happening to me. I usually say, “It has to be something I am doing wrong” or “It must be my fault the reason people hurt me”. It could be the right things to say, but something inside me thinks that it’s both problems with me (my illness) and problems with them (their illnesses or behaviors). The one thing I can say for certain is that I am tired of suffering and being a victim of everyone that finds a way to have a problem with me or around me. I have had my property destroyed (car, clothes, shoes, items from my dad after he died, and so much more), been called terrible names, had someone put their hands on me (on Mother’s Day of all days), and been bullied and harassed for reasons that I may never know unless they decide to fill me in on the big secret or the behaviors I exhibit that causes them to do these things to me.

The people doing these things never apologize, and they never own their mistakes. They will wait a week or a few days and act like nothing happened and put on fake smiles and fake love. I own my mistakes! I apologize and say that I feel bad about not being able to help out due to my physical and mental problems…almost on a daily basis. On Mother’s Day, the person that pushed me did so after I threw at half empty Kleenex box at them. I did this because that person was throwing a tantrum and throwing lawn furniture after telling her that she had been the subject of most of my therapy sessions due to her being overbearing and treating me like a child. I won’t name names or throw mud in their face on the internet, but this is not the first tantrum that she had thrown. Those tantrums scare the crap out of me, and I wanted her to stop doing it. I really could have thrown furniture at her, but I chose a box that weighed less than a pound. I did not aim to hurt her at all…only stop her behavior that was triggering my anxiety. She came at me like a bull who had just been poked with a stick, and she aimed to hurt me. She pushed me and poked me in my bad arm…trying to trigger me to hit her. I held my ground and restrained myself as she was less than an inch from my face yelling, poking, and pushing me. If you know me, you know that had it been anyone else, they would have got it back tenfold, and I would not have felt bad about it. The problem was is that I need a place to live more than I need to throw some hands. The reason I tell this story is because this was the incident that I haven’t been able to come back from, and it is the incident that keeps me feeling like I am held down in restraint from being the person that I want to be. I have a hard time trying to find a way to rise above all of the abuse in my life. It haunts me and targets my empathy, sensitivity, benevolent heart, submissiveness, and, most of all, my mental woes that comes with having a mental illness.

I love too hard, care too much, and feel everything stronger than most people that I surround myself with. I’m selfless, and I give all of me with nothing left to give when I am spent on giving. I am educated, intelligent, empathetic, and self-driven to invest in servicing my community. With personal relationships, I always try to make sure that everyone is happy and content with my presence in their life, and I am the person that will give the shirt off my back or the last dollar out of my wallet if it means that it will help someone better their situation. It’s hard to ask why these are bad trait to have, but I do ask that all the time. Why is life so hard for me when I make others’ lives enhanced and allow their quality of life to be better. My quality of life is downgrading, and I really need to “catch a break” to get to a place where I can be happy and feel better.

The reason I chose to share this on my public blog is because I thought maybe one or more of you are going through the same thing or have gone through the same thing. I thought I could reach out to my community and leave my “comfort zone” to find help. Therapy helped for a while, but when things go bad for me…they really go bad, making the techniques I was taught in therapy null and void. I have been a self-injurer since the age of 10 or 11…not sure which. I started with banging my head on walls, then began punching walls, and finally I found cutting gave me emotional relief. I have not cut for over a year, but that urge to cry tears of red always haunts me and is always the first thing I want to do when my shoulders are too heavy. I thank God that I have not done it, and I am proud of myself for the fact that I have fought that urge, which if you are a cutter, you know it is not easy to not cut. The struggle to be stronger than the demons that try to control you is very real, and it is very hard to overcome. I will write more posts on how to control those urges to injure in more posts.

Now! I want to give credit where credit is due. I am so thankful for my children (Shannia, Leina, and Daniel) for giving me the strength to battle my demons. Without them, I probably would not be writing this post because they help me battle my inner demons. Along with my babies, my grandbaby, Dessa Boo, is the shining light in my eye and reminds me of all three of my children wrapped into one feisty, amazing, and beautiful little princess.

I want to take a moment and recognize some people who also keep my head above water and have enhanced my life with their friendship and counsel: (If I do manage to leave someone off of here, just know that if I have told ya…ya know where you stand with me)

Porsche – My sister from another mister…my rock…my friend…and my therapist (lets just hope she doesn’t start charging)

Travis – He’s my level-minded, level-headed voice of reason. He’s been around a very long time and has seen me go through hell and back and through hell again.

Steph – He’s a real one, and he fights battles so much stronger than you nor I could even imagine. We’ve been through so much, but he never stops fighting for me…and I will never stop fighting for him. He’s another victim of the California justice system. This man struggles every single day of his life since the early 2000s, and he still makes time to call this crazy girl to see if I am straight.

Pierre Rushing – Who is fighting for his life in prison on a wrongful conviction for murder. He needs all of our support! Links will be posted for how you can help.

(All Links will open in a new tab)

Ollie, Mama Dee, and Atone – The Rushing family that took me in as one of their own and showed me the greatest hospitality when I visit Oakland to help the cause to get Pierre free. They made me feel like I was part of their family, and I am so appreciative of their kindness and free-will to bring a stranger, like me, into their circle.

Yung Pretty – This man talked me through so much stuff and helped me in ways that he will never really know or realize. He’s always been a supportive person of my educational goals and is a great friend. Y’all better recognize that he coming up too. He’s going to live his dream, and I couldn’t be more proud to have him in my corner.

Landon – you know what you do and how you do it….thank you

Denardo – your ear is always there for me along with motivating advice, counsel, and sillyness that is the epitome of you *big smile*

Claudia and Candace – for listening to all my bullshit and always being there when I needed a friend or a shoulder to cry on.

Tiana – always has an open ear for me to talk to and has great advice. She’s a freakin’ rockstar, and she makes the most amazing shirts and whatever else you need in that department. She handmakes crystal jewelry, and she has great prices. #shopblack

I am sure there are so many more people that needs their credit where it is definitely due, but these are the ones that I can think of off-top. My brain gets a little foggy on these meds. However, if you think you should be on there, and you aren’t…there’s a good possibility that you are part of the problem *shrugs* I am not people pleasing anymore. These people deserve there clout, and they have every bit of my time, respect, and mention.

With that said, grand rising, blessed be, and there’s more to come.


Sometimes I get out of bed feeling good, and I put myself together feeling beautiful, accomplished, and happy. I try to start a new day better than the last, and that’s how I have been healing myself.

Then we have the days that I cannot bear my own reflection, and the day follows the same pattern. These are the days spent with the misery of past relationships, trauma, and abuse. I could write a book of everything and everyone who have killed seeing myself as a beautiful woman. These days are hard to heal.

The worst part of being a caring and thoughtful human being with empath skills is that you break easier and harder than the rest of the population that is considered “normal”. When someone causes pain to someone like myself, the first place it strikes is at the head of insecurities and weaknesses.

For me, those insecurities and weaknesses are contained within my self-image and vanity. I have never been a vain person, but I would rather look in the mirror and see myself as beautiful no matter who threw crap in my face. Some days are better than others, but I always hear my demons roar.

Today was an ugly day. I’m ready for a pretty one.

I Found Out Today

Little secrets, little lies
Irrelevant at the time

Two hours later, not enough time
I was never really on your mind

Deception of mind, trying too hard
You never were really mine

All my money, financially struck
You used me while you moved on

Blame game, hurting my soul
I’m singing my same ole song

Loyalty I gave, destruction received
My heart is burning and in need

Broken promises, anger with hate
My word kept with tears on my face

Tearing burning heart, soul aflame
Maybe my stupidity is stronger than grace

Every single thing I had inside

Now crumble into nothing

My heart is cold and numb

Nothing left to give another soul

Your violations of trust burst inside me like fire

I found out.