It's Coming in as Fast as It's Going Out....

Drained.

Emotionally, Mentally and Physically.

I am like stuck in a time warp.   Trapped. I am at my highest and yet my lowest at the same dang time.  The more I try to push and purge, the more things are poured onto me.  

Granted some of it I have volunteered for... but that's just some of it. 

The rest is just mine....just mine to sort through, swim through, sit in and hopefully finally get rid of.  My house is back to looking like a hoarder's retreat.  I was making so much progress.  Yes, all of those deaths in January, February, March and motherfreakin April got to me.   Some of those deaths shook me because well they were part of my support system, part of my core, part of my think tank, part of the team that gently pushed me to walk in my purpose, walk in my greatness.... they were my safety net.

This post like my life will be all over the place...I can feel it.  My life is in turmoil and in conflict even though from the outside looking it, everything looks just fine.

I was chatting with one of my soul sisters, Bernie's Daddy....yes as in the MacMan, Mr. Kings of Comedy, you should check her out, she's so transparent and real...any who I was telling her how my emotions were all over the place, how when I saw Life this weekend and her daddy showed up that I just bust out crying. He represented a reminder that even as a child I had to FIGHT just to be left alone...that nothing came easy for me...nothing outside of excelling in school.  Bernie used to try out his jokes on me when I was a lil girl, and when I say TRY OUT, I mean I was the BUTT of his jokes.  And though his jokes weren't malicious, they were hard to take when you are a little kid who just trying to enjoy a meal in silence that you don't have to share with your brothers WHO NEVER had to share with you because one they inhaled it as soon as they touched it or because THEY WERE BOYS and needed their energy.

What foolishness.

Anyway, seeing Bernie reminded me how things have changed but the core of things are still the same.  I am still that "little sensitive girl"  looking for my place in life.  Not purpose....but place. 

Where do I belong?  Where is my happy place?  Outside of the Chi... Oh how I love thee.  But that ratchet killing, be it by the police or the lost, wayward kids without hope, has me side-eyeing the Chi.  Honestly, I am side-eyeing the world right now.

Folks mad about a gorilla?!  I mean is you mad or is you real mad?!   A gorilla?  And I have yet to watch the video, but the moment they started calling the parents LAZY, I knew.  I knew that old deep rooted polluted deep veins of racism that no longer existed in post racial America was about to take center stage, AGAIN.  To be frank, I am not surprised by the white folks.  White folks gonna be who white folks gonna be.  I mean white folks showed us who they were with Mike Vick.  They showed us who they were with Katrina.  They showed us who they were when they put that wild animal in their car talking about it looked cold. 

I am surprised by the colored folks ~ the Latinos, the Indians, the Dominicans, the Jamaicans, the African Americans, the Blacks, the Mulattos, the Indonesians, the Pacific Americans, the whomever has a caste system or have to deal with colorism in their country, island, in their place that they call home.  I am surprised and deeply saddened by the hate we have for one another simply based on something as superficial as skin.  I am surprised that in 2016 that most of us are still asleep.  Still subconsciously spreading the self-hatred. Some of these memes and things that we share... whoa #selfhatred

 Funny thing everybody making money off being black, but the blacks.  From lips, hips, hair styles to our innate flare.

Today they are laying to rest the guy that TOOK my virginity.  It is so bittersweet.  It is so hard to remember that OUR MONSTERS are people too.  That they have folks that love and cherish them too.  I didn't HATE CKB.  I felt sorry for him.  I was enraged and wanted to kill him in the moment, but I guess somewhere along the line I forgave him....maybe because it wasn't too violent...maybe it was because I shouldn't have been there...maybe it was because I knew he was grieving....maybe it was because I was already grieving, I loved his mama and his little sister and brother.  They were so full of hope even though life was a struggle for them.  They didn't know how ugly the world was even though they woke up in that ugliness everyday.  Their mama was the first person that I literally watched die.  Even as smart as I was, I didn't comprehend what was going on....it wasn't until recently that I realized she probably had cervical cancer.  All I know is she kept showing me her stuff.  And I didn't want to see her stuff.  And she kept telling me she had a hole in her stuff.  And I was like, I think we are supposed to have a hole.  And she was always in pain.   And self-medicating.  She lived a life of "disgrace."  She made money by doing womanly things.  I still don't know if the house she lived in and the guy she lived with was her pimp.  I just know that I loved her and she loved me.  She called me her daughter.  She called me once a week when I went away to school until she got too sick and then she died.  I came home for the funeral.  I had to be there.  That was my boo and I needed to see my kiddos to make sure they were okay.  To lose your mama at 4 is a hard break.  I came and her mama said that I couldn't come to the funeral.  Said that I was too black.  Like are you kidding me?  Like I wasn't too black to be sitting with your daughter in the hospital.  I wasn't too black to be watching and feeding her youngest kids.  I wasn't too black to be sending her money, BUT I'm too black to be paying my respects?  So her daddy, who had already determined he wasn't going to the funeral, she was his heart and his heart was broken when she took to a life of the streets but it was completely broken when she died and he didn't want to see her like that, said he was going and he dared someone NOT allow me in and to say something to me.  Whelp, the same place they laid her body out is where CKB will be also and it's kind of hard for me.  It's a reminder of the day that my innocence was lost and I realized just how ugly the people in the world were and how close that ugliness was to me.  How I swam in and out of that ugliness everyday without even a clue of how ugly folks truly were.  CKB family lived three blocks from my family.  Our family had generational friendships.  But deep down inside, they believed they were better than me because they were lighter than me.  Maybe that is why it was so easy for me to wake up and find CKB taking what wasn't his to have.  Maybe that is why folks in the world find it so easy to TAKE what isn't theirs to have...

Some years back, CKB and I reconnected on the FakeBook and he apologized and I told him what was on my heart and that was that.  He stopped sending me friend requests and deleted his page and I hadn't really thought about him until a couple months ago when he popped up on my uncle's page and I went to his page and said, "Thank You Jah because sometimes we forget how blessed we are to only have been burnt by the flamed and not engulfed in it."  And then last week I got a text telling me that he was dead and my heart instantly went out to my kiddos cuz well I still love me some them, even if it's from afar.

I miss my uncle.  I still love MK.  Time is running out, the sand is almost gone.  Innocence lost.  My place still not found.

Oh the tears.

"Be the light in the darkness.  Be the beauty amongst all the ugliness.  Be the flower blooming despite the weeds.  Innocence is worth protecting."

Gotta Luv Moi, Cuz I Surely Do ~ Smooches

It's Been A Long Long Time Coming

And, it's time for me to stop numbing the pain.


It's funny because I don't even remember when I mastered the art of defusing pain. I know I have a high tolerance for physical pain...but I am not sure when I totally became numb to the emotional pain.


The memories used to haunt me, daily. Used to keep me up at night, shaking. I didn't want to close my eyes because I didn't want to slip into the realm where it felt like I was reliving it again. At least with my eyes open, I knew that I was just daydreaming and that the harsh realities of my visions had already come to pass.


I had forgotten the pain I felt growing up as me. I had forgotten what it felt like...I had forgotten how painful it was for me to be powerless in saving my babies..I had forgotten why the windows to my soul always looked like they had a murky haze on them.

I lost myself in my book. I lost myself in my job. I lost myself in worthless men. I lost myself in food. I lost myself in despair.


I know me and knew that something was heavy on my soul that needed to be addressed, but I could not pinpoint what it was. I thought it had to do with me blaming myself, so I discussed that but the feeling did not go away. I thought it was about me giving up on my child because I was taking his acting out so personally. So I discussed that but the feeling was still there. I thought it was this, I thought it was that...still no release from the tightness and the heaviness growing in my heart.

I had been planning on blogging about how Chucky and his bride were progressing. How the category 6 storm had downgraded to a tropical storm. How things were finally settling down and I was getting a lil' more peace in my house. But I received a text from my sister yesterday informing me that she will be coming to get Chucky Bride soon and that she is about to have yet another baby. And I immediately texted back asking her what is she going to do with this baby and asked about my nephew that is now 1 yrs old that she walked out the door with when he was two weeks old and never returned with. I mean you have 2 kids and someone else is caring for them...and now you about to have another. Birth control would not be the answer... neither would tying of her tubes. She is searching for love...searching for proof that she belongs, that she matters, that she is valued and that is when it hit me...


The last time I saw CQP, he hurt my feelings. He didn't try to, and I am sure he doesn't even realize that he did..but he did. We were going through the different issues that result in a person having self-value issues. I just couldn't wrap my head around why I didn't value myself especially with all that I had accomplished. So CQP broke it down for me about how terrible my childhood was...about basically how my parents failed at showing me that I was priceless and at showing me love...and then the peeps that did love and value me, they unfortunately weren't permanent features in my life...so I have been trying to reconcile my value ever since.

While he was talking and bringing up things I had told him that had happened to me, I felt a pain like I hadn't felt in a long time. I saw me at 4 and 5 crying myself to sleep in my bed. I heard my prayers to God asking HIM why did he choose these people to be my family. I saw myself comparing myself to others trying to figure out what was wrong with me...trying to see what I could do differently to get my parents to love me, to see me, to understand me, to cherish me.

I remembered how alone and unloved I felt. I remembered wanting to disappear. I remember wondering what I had done to deserve the treatment I was receiving. I remember hating myself.

So as he is talking I am wondering, 'why didn't I just end it all when I was little because I had a very dysfunctional childhood and standing here looking back, I am not even sure how I made it through.'


On April __, 2000, the doctors told me that I was going to die. This was right after they scooped my stillborn son into a specimen cup. They wanted to take my other son. I basically told them that they could go to hell. They assured me that I only had 2 choices, neither of which I morally agreed with. I told them if I died, I would die with my baby and I meant that and well, I did.

I remember the pain I felt. I remember how powerless I felt. Most of all, I remembered that I didn't cry. I couldn't cry. I couldn't mourn. I had work to do. I had to fight for my firstborn's brother. I had to try and make him stick or at least get to a point where he could live outside of my body.

I remember for 3 weeks I fought everyone. I fought my mother and her ignorant, drama filled lies. I fought my grandmother. I fought the insensitive nurses. I fought the incompetent doctors. I fought against my body's natural urge to abort my child. I fought the paramedic worker.

I fought with all my might and I still lost.


I remember holding my son in my arms...watching him fight to breath, fight to live, fight to be seen. I remember being angry. I remember feeling defeated. I remember feeling lost. I remember that I did not cry.

I couldn't...there was no time for that...I needed to sift through the madness...salvage whatever I could and keep it moving. I would cry another day, just not that day. And here it is 10 years later and I still haven't found the time to cry.. to cry for my sons...to cry for my dysfunctional childhood, to cry for me


But it is coming...I can feel it..and well, it's been a long, long time coming. I have been at work, tearing up...one or two may fall and then it's done. I have been driving and the same thing has happened, a tear here, a tear there. My soul is ready to release this backup of pain, of sorrow, of hurt of everything that I cannot verbalize that I have had to endure. I am worthy of my own tears. I am worthy to be loved.

"It's been a long, long time but a change's gone come. Each day, I move toward that change. I embrace that change. I love that change. I realize that I am only as strong as my weakest link and each day that link moves closer and closer to UNBREAKABLE."

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