Waking Up: Life with E.M.

From the time I wake up, I struggle with even wanting to get out of bed. The problem is that I really want my first cigarette of the day, but my body wants to stay in bed to avoid what is waiting outside. I do it though. I rise up and throw my comfortable covers to the side and allow myself to take the steps needed to go smoke. Then I play a few games on my phone, and then I write down all of my feelings from the time I wake up.

I have a legal pad that I doodle my thoughts upon. I never really read them until I feel like I can do something with them though. I use them when I need to heal and express. This week I have wrote more on paper than I have written on my blog, but sometimes I feel like, “Who wants to read sadness all of the time?” There is so much sadness and feeling pity for my situation.

Mental illness is terrible. I think I would much rather have the flu because you can recover from it. I wonder sometimes if I will ever find my version of happy or feel free of my own insecurities and inner suffering. The thoughts inside of my head are crucial, and they really mess me up. I am a human sponge when it comes to people around me, and I feel everything. I try to ground myself to not feel their energy, but when everyone is mad at you all of the time for speaking your own truth…it’s heartbreaking.

I wish I could just shut of my empath skills, like for real. I am sick of feeling everyone’s disdain for their own lives that they project onto mine. I am tired of not being able to tell people when they upset me or disrespect me. I keep my mouth shut 9 times out of 10 because I hate confrontation and anger. I put on my smile, forget that they just hurt me, and move on with life because I am the only one around this house that is not entitled to have feelings or speak out when someone has made me feel a certain way.

I hate that I feel stuck and feel conflicted on what to do. I am tired of fighting to belong somewhere. I have struggled with that my entire life…never fitting in. I have always been different and seen the world different than other people. I think it has some aspects to do with having a few blessings of abilities, and the other part of it is that I am not an evil person. I wish I could treat people like they treat me and talk to me.

Honestly, I have to wake up and keep going because my pain gives me power, and I refuse to let them win. I refuse to let people continue to break me. It’s time to get help. It was the worst day today, so it can only go up from here… right?

xoxo, E.M.

Friday Finally…Story Time

It’s been a rough couple of weeks, but I think I am back. I have been productive around getting ready for the move, which is now delayed until we can find someone reliable to move us.

I had spent a lot of time packing up my closet and my plethora of clothes, along with getting ready for the rummage sale to get rid of stuff I don’t want. Then I get all of that done to find out that the “friend” that was going to move me and my daughter back to Arkansas had planned to leave me at a gas station in the middle of nowhere and take all of our stuff. I am thankful for the good friend that warned us that this guy was planning to rob us of everything we own. If not, who know what would have happened to me…but needless to say, the thought threw me into complete anxiety and panic attacks for a few days.

Like who does that? How does the thought of doing that to someone even cross someone’s mind when you literally tell them that the move is saving your life? There are some really bad people in this world, and I almost had to spend 4+ days with one. Thank God for good friends…if not for them, I would have lost everything and maybe my life.

So, with that said, I will be writing today for sure to heal from the issues that have been going on, and I have missed you all! I’m back at it again. I may do some late post on some challenges that I wanted to embark upon during the week. Anxiety is a bitch…

xoxo, E.M.

Checking In

The past week has really took a toll on me, physically and mentally…hence why I have not done any challenges. I keep packing up my life into boxes, and I’m so scared. Much of the time, I feel like I am a problem for everyone around me…part of the mental sickness I suppose. I have kind of vegged out at night on shows and tried to be productive during the day. That has a price though…with a torn labrum and a plate and 4 screws in my neck. Now, I am having trouble standing on my right heel or walking on it because of pain in my heel bone and down my foot. The tile floors are really hard, and I don’t know if I have a spur or something on the bone. I barely wear shoes unless I am going somewhere.

Anyway…I am still alive and kickin’…I am just having some rough days. Dark days…the days I hate and try to avoid. I am manic and triggered too easily. I may write some more tonight or in the morning. I just need to think.

Fandango’s Provocative Question #137 from E.M.

This week, Fandango’s Provocative Question, is asking:

Have you ever been to a clothing-optional (nude) venue, such as a beach, resort, club, party, etc? If so, what did you think of the experience? Would you do it again? If not, would you ever consider going to a clothing-optional gathering? Why or why not?

My Answer:

I have never been to a venue where clothing is optional, but I do not know that I would ever feel comfortable going to such a venue due to my own viewpoints about myself. My self-esteem is not strong enough to strut across a beach or sit at a table naked and feel normal. I would find myself worrying about everyone else judging me because that is how my life has been my entire life. “You need a diet” or “Putting on a few extra pounds there, eh?” Those are the normal things I grew up with. My dad was very body conscious and never was out of shape. When I started putting on pounds, he began being critical of me. I still feel the effects.

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.

Rewind: Backwards I Go

As per usual, I will be combining my word of the day challenges into one post with a new poetry style, which today will be A L’arora. It is another Laura Lamarca style, and consists of four 8-line stanzas without a syllabic restriction. The 6th and 8th line will be the only rhymes.

The word challenges today are bowl from Daily Spur, late from Fandango, amenable from Ragtag, and clueless from WOTD via Cyanny.

This post is inspired by last night’s events with the toxic ones. I will be moving soon. I still don’t know how I feel about it. I may be going backwards.

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I’m trying to move on but keep climbing to be pushed down
Like running up a human-sized bowl with slippers on my feet
Slipping, I struggle and wriggle and beg and plead unsuccessfully
I have become amenable to your behavior, your ways, and your abuse
My insides are screaming for safety, quality, and peace
To feel the essence of my own being sounds of sanctity and bliss

Just let me be and leave me alone…let me live
You think you have not erred…dumbfound and clueless

It’s too late to stop what you put into motion
I am turning my back, walking away, gone soon
In my eyes and heart, you’ll no longer exist
A stranger with no sister, no nieces, no great niece
Your family is leaving you and lacking one tear on our face
Your own doing, losing us all this way

All I wanted is to breath, to excel, and be myself
Your control, anger, and denial turned brightness gray

Calling me out of my name that came from my birth
Pushing and yelling, your triggered my soul
Pain and suffering was not ever the master plan of my move
Dumbed out here like garbage, I needed a light for my path
I was met with your darkness, exploits, and disdain

I have to save me now from the wrath of your illness
Conversations and a relationship are dead, I refrain

You broke me from the innermost part of who I could be tomorrow
Money is not what makes this world spin upon it’s axis
Only controls people to make them as puppets of their masters
All I wanted is to be who I am, successful and benevolent
You wanted mirror-image, to mold me as an imposter

All of this sorrow, so unneeded, unnecessary, and preventable
You can check my name off of your “people to abuse” roster

xoxo, E.M.

My Prayer to Above

Today’s poetry style I will be using with my word challenges today is Nove Otto. The words of the day are comfortable by the Daily Spur, attend from Fandango, cloudscape from Ragtag, and spectacle from the Word of the Day challenge via Kristian. Nove Otto is 9 lines of 8 syllables each line, and the pattern of rhyme is aacbbcddc.

As always, be sure to go over and show some love to the hosts of these word challenges, and please join in the fun of the creativity their words invoke inside of you.

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The cloudscape that lingered above
If possible, I would feel love
Such a beautiful spectacle
I stood there comfortable, numb
To attend such beauty when glum
Now feeling hypochondrial
The anxiety removes peace
My sanity begins decrease
I pray to fight the obstacle

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xoxo, E.M.

I Digress…

Ugh. Why am I up this early morning? Well…the toxic ones came home with their looks of hatred as I walked in from a cigarette outside. My answer was sleep.

I laid down before 4 pm my time, and I woke at 1:30 am. The drug cocktail put me out…like flipping the switch and shutting off all the power to an entire town.

I have quiet right now. I still don’t have peace. The boy is awake and walking about. I always know when it’s him. My younger dog, Marcellus, hates him and growls when he’s near. Sneaky. Flashlight on his phone creeping around like a bandit in the night…

Welcome to my Saturday *sighs*

A Work in Progress – Days 2 & 3

Day 2 –

I woke up at a time that is considered late for me, 9:13 a.m. PST. Normally, I am up before 8. I did the normal routine of dreading dropping my feet on the ground, but my dogs were nagging to go outside since I slept so late. They’ll sneeze and make the bed move, sort of to say, “Hey…get ya ass out of bed woman!” I did…grabbed some of my iced coffee out of the fridge, and made our way out the patio doors.

I had not been up long and my phone rang. It was my ex’s mom, and boy, she had a lot to say. My daughter was there, and both of our jaws dangled on the ground with all of the hateful things that she had to say about her son. She had no idea that we had became friends and put past history aside…may even be working towards reconciliation…but I won’t assume to know or want to know about that. It was toxic at the end, and I have enough toxicity in my life without adding a relationship known to be toxic back to into the mix of my chaos. Anyhow…change the subject E.M.

Back to the call, I listened to this woman beat words of hate about her own son that she had carried and given birth to from her own body…absolutely triggered, shocked… I stood up for him and tried to make her see her son as something other than a “monster filled with anger”. He had a rough life, as most of us have, but life can be rougher if everyone who is supposed to love you actually hates you and despises the shoes you walk in. That was something I know better than anyone who has ever been in his life, and he would support this claim I am making.

With all that said, I contacted him immediately after hanging up the phone. Writing had to be put aside because I had to meet with him and give him a recording of the call that my daughter took after hearing the conversation’s first 30-45 seconds. He’s like a father to her. We love him. Always have and always will. He saved me from myself many times…more than I like to admit. Oh…there I go again…back to task *smh* We met up and had some dinner, passed the file, and gave some hugs…then I went about my way in the dark.

In between all the stuff going on with this son-bashing mother, if you will call her that…the toxic ones start their bull by texting about “if they can cook something to eat because their sick of fast food, sandwiches, and tv dinners”. Let’s make a note right now that this is her house, not mine and my daughter’s. I just occupy the downstairs bedroom…the blue room. All this petty nonsense is so unnecessary and more triggering happens each time…she knows this. So, triggered, night blind, and frustrated, I get us home to an alarm letting her know we are home and a door once open now closed upstairs. I try to write my challenges for the day, cannot concentrate, and spend the evening sitting outside enjoying a cool night with my daughter.

Unsuccessful day of writing to say the least, I admit. I’ll play catch-up today…

Day 3 –

Thus far, uneventful. That can change in an instant. I’m still feeling the effects of the triggers from yesterday. A conversation this morning did not help repress the trigger effects, so I am kind of all over the place. More to come…

xoxo, E.M.

Saturday Mornings

My peace forsaken today

I feel symptomatic

Anxiety building blocks

Like blocks of wood

My heart races and breath labored

I walk softly still

The eggshells click and click

Below my feet with my head and eyes towards the tile

No eye contact

Don’t look up

Angry, narcissistic eyes look back

Hold your breath…

Yes, that’s it…almost there

To the blue room of doom

That’s my home, my nemesis

Here we are now

Somewhat safe…sipping my cup

Coffee bliss blessing my taste buds

Don’t forget to close the door

For wicked eyes wander to meet my gaze

You can breathe again…

I hear my head say assuring me

Chest still throbbing and pounding

My chest uncomfortable

I try to find tranquility

As I tap the keys with words and rambles

I come to you…

Newfound peace