The Tide Is Coming The Tide is Coming

If I was only so lucky to get those types of warning when the tide was rising in life.

I have been here, fighting my way out from under a riptide. 

It has been one thing after another ...back to back to back to back.

My homies are going through it.  Fathers or daddies whatever you want to call them, cuz I've only been acquainted with donors and hasbeens,  have been sending for their kids.

And when I say sending for them, I am saying with that hard knock at the door followed by 'you have been served' sending for.  Daddies who never wanted anything to do with the child in the first place.  Daddies that have been M.I.A. mentally and emotionally but now in the 2000-one six, these daddies have been hit with a wand that tells them it is time to step their game up

That would be all the daddies EXCEPT the one that shot his dana in me.  That tired bama like the entire tenure of my child's life thus far was a no call no show when I told him to come get his lying, thieving child.  I thought it was only right for me to dump my child with the person's whose traits he was exhibiting. 

This ninja stole my money and passed it out at school like it was Monopoly money for his classmates to buy chicken and fries.. no seriously... I can't pay my mortgage but it's all good cuz y'all ate good cuz "Big Money Grips" keep y'all fed with my hard earned duckets.  Then this ninja gonna tell me when they produced the evidence, a photo with him holding 2 of the one hundred dollar bills before he was about to give them away, that it wasn't him...the picture was photoshopped.

Now what I needed to do was bust him in the head to the white meat and tell him that blood running from his head wasn't real, it was a mirage.  But I didn't...I let him live because he will learn to regret the day he allowed the devil to get in his way and cross me.  Gonna tell me if I make $50 an hour I can make up all the hundreds he took in some hours.

I should have slapped all the snot out of him... yet I didn't.  I wanted to...I wanted to stomp him dead like I would have a regular ninja on the street who had stolen my bread.   And I look good in stripes and orange so I could just go ahead and seal the deal...

But he ain't worth it.

Anybody who would bite the hand that feeds clothe and goes without so they can have, is not worth it and unfortunately, that is how I treat him... I'm just counting down my sentence until I can put him out. #realtalk

In March alone, I lost five folks to cancer..back to back to back... my support system has taken tremendous blows.  And here we are in April, where it is already sink or swim through the depression.

le sigh.  I am missing my babies tremendously this year.  16.  I would have been almost free.  I am reminded how grateful I am that I got the chance to tell one of my kid's namesake how much I appreciated them last year before he checked out of here.  I miss him too.

"life isn't fair... and sometimes it isn't even worthwhile.  however we wouldn't appreciate the rainbow but for the flood." (Luv)

Gotta Luv Moi, Cuz I Surely Do ~ Smooches

Patch it or Let it Burn

I haven't been on here in a minute simply because well.... I don't know. I think I was almost losing that decade old battle and was about to slip into that cloak of darkness. It's comfortable. It's familiar. It's home. And even though I have since relocated to a new address, my body sometimes forget that WE AIN'T DOING THIS NO MORE!

So from time to time, I come by for a visit. Sometimes, I walk right pass without even stopping. Then there are days where I come and I just stare in awe... just total amazement at what went on in that there shack, like I didn't live it or through it, but had just happened to hear about it....like a slave revisiting the plantation he/she used to live on. And other days, I climb the steps, open the door, and fall asleep on the couch.... It's a process.

Well, sometime back when everyone was doing the "challenge" someone presented me with a challenge of my own. They wanted me to fully see what freedom meant for me...what it looked like, what it tasted like, what it smelled like...what was it exactly, cuz my freedom ain't gonna necessarily be your freedom. So, I shot the email to my PIC cuz like I said in her lil tribute, she knows me and she will be brutally honest with me when she is pushed...So she told me that she thought that I really needed to reconcile my relationships with my parents, especially my mother. And well, it was weird because not even 24 hours prior, I was trying to sort out why it would appear that I have forgiven my father when he really was the one that physically and mental abused me and not my mother. So, I knew that she wasn't just shooting straws out of her butt and that she had really thought about the question I had presented her.

I started mentally that day trying to sort out what a relationship with my mother would look like in my freedom. And it's been hard because I have a conflicted soul and heart at times. I am a Christian and I will bust you to the white meat without a moment's notice. But, I am a Christian and what God thinks of me and my actions, do matter. They matter a lot. So, I am torn. I don't love my mother. I don't even like her 98% of the time. I have a very hard time tolerating her. But, I know that I need to honor and respect her. How do you do that with a person when the sound of their voice immediately enrages you? My freedom does not have any space for her.

Is that right? Am I right? Is that my freedom talking, or is that my lil scared girl inside still playing get back and holding on to a lifelong grudge, talking?


I am not sure. But I am not afraid to find out. I am in this for the long haul. I have dug in my heels and made sure they ain't the ones from Payless. This battle has already been won and I am the victor.

All I have to do is HONESTLY, absent of fear and anger, decide whether patching the relationship with my mom will get me closer to my freedom or adding some more gasoline to that already roaring fire and let that bridge burn once and for all.


"Sometimes moving forwards requires you letting go of one rope and swinging to another, and other times it may mean tying a knot at the end and hanging there for a minute."

~Gotta Luv Moi Cuz I Surely Do (Smooches)

Coming Clean(er)

So the truth of the matter is, that I have shared a lot of things and it has been freeing, but I have not talked about the one thing that affects me the most.


I think I am embarrassed in denial mad that I let this go on for long without seeking treatment.


I suffer from PTSD.

Which often times have me feeling like this during the winter and spring months.

I am still unclear if I suffer from seasonal depression as well. But I do know that from October until May that I have a very hard time functioning outside of my little world inside of my head. I have made a lot of excuses, well not really excuses, but it seems that people are more comfortable hearing "stuff is going on" then "I am depressed and just can't deal with you or anything outside of the norm right now." And it doesn't help that during these months, typically things are going wrong that I cannot control or that are out of my control.

October ~ The month the twins were supposed to be born

November ~ At 5 months, Chucky stopped breathing and had to be raced to the hospital. He had something that had it gone untreated he would have died. For the next 4 years, every November would make the beginning of my child's hospital stays. He would spend weeks at a time in the hospital from November until April.

December ~ Usually I don't have no money, no food, no lights, no gas money (but I still look good and I still manage to smile cuz I just need to survive until tax return)

January ~ The rape

February ~ My child is usually in the hospital fighting for his life

April ~ First twin died

May ~ Second twin died

So, I think that I earned the right to be a little "touched" and up until recently, I had been managing pretty well. Actually I was even profiting off of my misfortunes.

I remember when I went to counselling for my little sister when I was younger and her therapist told me that I could be in therapy for the rest of my life and still never be right. I laughed at her and told her that when a real therapist told me that, I would take it to heart. I was 16.

My first year of undergrad, I practically missed because I slept most of it away. My roomie used to hold a mirror under my nose to see if I was alive. I thought I was just tired from working so many jobs and going to school full-time. My doctor told me that I was under a lot of stress...that I couldn't run from my troubles forever and that they were gaining on me.

The next couple of years I survived by getting paid for doing studies on people who had experienced a lot of stress throughout their life. They used to pay top dollars. I always would drop out right before the medication phase. I wasn't going to let anything alter my brain more than it already was. I remember the therapist telling me that I needed to get help soon...I needed to find a professional to talk to because I was on the brink of going into a deep depression. That I had already experienced more stress than a person 3xs my age and that it was only a matter of time before I would not be able to absorb anything else. I distinctly remember one of the doctors telling me that if I suffered another huge traumatic episode that it would probably shut me down. A couple of months later I was raped and probably 8-9 months after that I semi-shut down. And ever since, I have shut down during the months of October -April.

Well last year (2009) my cycle of chaos started early. It was in September that my child was sexually assaulted. And well, I have not quite been right since. He ain't been quite right either. In fact, he has been showing his natural brown behind every chance he thinks he is going to get. I took him the other day to try and get his brain scanned to see if something medically would prompt him to try and fight his teacher, his vice-principal and his principal cuz lawd knows he knew that I would possibly kill him dead once I found out. (I digress)

So my child's incident sent my PTSD into hypergear for a second or two, but now I am good. Not good in the sense that nothing is wrong, but good in the sense that I have not shut down. I have not retreated into my head. I have not ceased doing the things that I need to do. I stopped for a second taking the mail out of the box, but I got myself back on track to the delight of my mailman who told me that I was "showing off." It's a good thing too, I had a disconnect notice in there for my electricity. Can't have two crazy babies in the dark at the same time.

The fact that I am blogging right now is testament to my progress because if you check out my other blog, from 2005 until 2009, I did not have many postings from Nov-April. The fact that I am back to making sure I am seen as well as heard (have you seen my glitter Dorothy shoes? I gots to get some more cuz I have beyond dogged them) let's me know that I am changing. I am no longer trying to be cast as Ralph Ellison's leading character.

But nevertheless, this is something that I deal with and probably will battle with for the rest of my life? I don't know. Some days I do great and other days I feel like I am headed for the Humpty Dumpty break....I just want to bang my head against the wall and say, "Not another day, I can't take this," but inside I know that I can and that I will because it's what I do.

I just wonder if it would have gotten to this point if I would have seriously sought help sooner.

"I am not perfect. I do not claim to be. I have seen some things that have greatly affected me. That doesn't make me less than or even crazy. It just means that I just need to be handled with care, you know gently."

~Gotta Luv Moi, Cuz I Surely Do (Smooches)

The Manifestation of My Cry For Help

This is my room, my room on crack.

It has looked like this in some form or fashion for nine years now and well I am ready to face my demons and ready to sleep comfortably in my own room.

Like, I never believe it would get this out of hand, but as you see, and this is on a good day, it did. Now before you start judging me and calling me NASTY and DIRTY, let me explain the reason behind the madness.

9 years ago, I was pregnant with twins and they died. One lived for 3 hrs and the other was stillborn. When they died, so did something inside of me. It was like I was a zombie. I mean I got up and I bathed, on most days, and I ate, maybe once a week, and I went out from time to time....not really sure where. Most of the time, I did not feel like being bothered with anyone or anything that could talk. I just wanted to fade away. I just wanted to disappear. And well, things that I was supposed wanted needed to do, I could not do.

I could not function. I walked past the mailbox everyday without stopping to take my mail. Most of the time it was filled with letters from stupid people who thought writing stuff like "God knows best" "Just Have Another One" and other buffoonery was helpful. (and in the interest of not overpopulating the cemeteries and adding one more body to the prison's rosters, I stop reading my mail.) Then there was always some bill that I could not afford and that would just depress me even more because I had always paid my bills on time. So, I just decided to stop opening and getting the mail. What was the need? I didn't want to read stupid letters from stupid people and I didn't want to look at bills I couldn't pay.

Now, I knew that I was suffering from PTSD , which was natural, but I didn't know that I would be dealing with it 9 years later. Well, I guess since my method of dealing with it was to not really deal with it, it only made sense that 9 years later, I was still avoiding opening my mail and taking it out of the mailbox. Even though I can afford to pay most of my bills now and most of the stupid people have gone their merry way.

Now, don't get me wrong, I have tried on several occasions to conquer this beast, but something always happens: somebody gets sick, somebody needs to eat, i run out of trash bags, i get sleepy, i lose my motivation

I have asked on several occasions for people to come over and assist me but something always comes up..well, i am finally putting my foot down and saying my room will be a place of refuge and serenity by the end of August even if I have to pay someone to do it for me.

It only makes sense to get rid of the physical clutter as I declutter my brain and my heart.

So here's to the countdown of cleaning for love.

"Physical clutter typically is a manifestation of mental clutter. Look around you, is there clutter? Are there things that you need to deal with and you just let it pile off saying you are going to deal with it another day? Don't let you another day come 9 years later. Free your mind and the clutter will follow."

~Gotta Luv Moi, Cuz I Sure Do (Smooches)