I've Finally Arrived

  

I'm a Star Seed, and the moon belongs to me.

Two nights ago, I had a (another) revelation about my life. It angered me. Within that anger, I came to clarity (I love when that happens). I read, somewhere, sometime late last year, that 2017 was going to be the year of rebirth. Ya'll...YA'LL. This has been the most eye opening year I've ever experienced, in my adult life, so far. I'm telling you, whoever I was, the years before this year, is gone. Left the building. Vanished. In all my life, I've never been so happy to say goodbye to someone. 

My life has always perplexed me. Spending most of it, adjusting for the comfort of others I loved and/or respected. Compromising. Ignoring my intuition whenever it spoke to me, too quickly (in the end, it was always right). Society tells us we shouldn't make such hasty decisions in our lives, that we should give things a chance. I no longer believe this. Any decision I make, for myself, will always be the right decision. I will embrace my growing pains, in the same way I embrace my victories. For overcoming my growing pains - is victorious. I've come to understand, living a life full of fearing doing the "wrong" things...ain't livin'. Life can be just as calm and disturbing as an ocean. What lies beneath the surface, the floors depths, are unknown, until experienced. What is a above, can trigger a raging, drowning sea. We have to accept both the above and below to find stillness - it's where our center is. I strongly believe this is the only way to thrive and survive.

It's said that when one becomes more in-tune, spiritually and cosmically, their physical body will experience some sort of illness/sickness. I've never had too serious of an issue with my vocal cords. I’ve been on a singing rest for about a week, experiencing some larynx reflux. I'm not worried - but it's definitely something new, for me. When I'm able to, again (after some more vocal rest and a trip to my E.N.T, for a check-up), my voice, will be anew; rebirth. I am anew.

Upward and onward.

Defined

Earlier this year, I got this, as an extension of my middle finger.

For a very long time, I've contemplated moving away from my career. Literally, finding another love, and putting all of my focus in that. But like a tiresome love, I return, just to see if I'm really done. It's abusive, really. To be an entrepreneur, one has to be able to endure mental and emotional abuse. Truly, it's 10% success, 90% anguish. "See this anguish. Feel this anguish. Carry it. Repeat." 

(I'm not a motivational speaker. Also, I'm not too sure if all my punctuations are being used properly. I'm not a book editor. Not a comic, either, but hopefully, my sarcasm shines through this black 'Times Roman'.)

When I was little, I wanted to be a disco or ballet dancer. That has nothing to do with anything (or maybe it does). I just wanted to let you know what I could have been. Everything in life all seems impossibly, possible. I think that's the reason I always find myself back in the dysfunction of entrepreneurism. Somehow, I feel the need to conquer this torturous way of living. I don't want to be defeated. In the times when I have thrived through it all, I felt like a fucking superhero. And being a black woman...need I say more on why feeling like a superhero is imperative for my mental health?? (If you don't understand why this is so important, lose this URL, 'cause you problematic as fuck - and already, not liked.)

In 2011, I discovered the label I was with, wasn't shit. I was in central London, stunned and confused. I jumped in a black cab. The cabbie must've seen the realization (on my face) of the 3 year lie, I only just realized, I'd been living. I rode in silence. Just as I stepped out of the cab:

"Chin up, lov. Whatever it is, it will get better, yea?"
"Cheers. I really appreciate that."
"Enjoy the rest of your day."

That's exactly what I did.
Two days later, everything got better.

I try my best to remind myself, whenever it all feels impossible, to keep my chin up and enjoy the rest of my day. Sometimes, I fail, and that's perfectly ok with me. Positivity isn't made up of smiles, laughter and good times. It's allowing what is, to be. In accepting its existence, I allow myself to stay present and grow from it. For me, positivity is trusting the process, no matter what. Quote me. I'm glowed up.

Upward and onward.

All For Me

It never fails, this notification always frightens me.

I don't know what I want this blog entry to be about.

I'm currently listening to jazz music. Acid reflux is in full bloom. Bloated and bleeding. (Love me). Lots on my mind. I want to believe that whatever I have to say, is worthy of being heard (in whatever form it comes). I write music to release the passionate, expressive beast I have within me. Writing has been the only way I can get across exactly how I feel...though, it's not something I've ever loved doing. It's too revealing. That scares me. Alas, I do it anyway. Isn't that how the saying goes? "Feel the fear and do it anyway" ? I fear writing, embarrassment and rejection. I'm not sure anyone loves embarrassment, nor rejection - but I especially, don't like to make a fool of myself. I should elaborate.

Telling someone how I feel about them, how much I care...attempting to show them, only to be rejected - is embarrassing. That's the only situation, in where I'm truly not fond of rejection/embarrassment. Opening up is not something I do often, though, I am a very transparent person. Privacy and transparency don't have to be mutually exclusive. Being both is acceptable - even if it wasn't, it's my world.

Therapy has taught me, basically, I am not who I thought I was. Well, not all of who I was. This has been both, a very surprising and liberating experience (I'm still experiencing it). I spend my time, now, listening to myself. Once I've heard and understood - I act. It really is the only way to heal and love yourself, efficiently. In doing so, I've completely resurrected my truest self, and am currently on a path to trusting, and believing in her process, completely. It's the least I could do, for ignoring her, since the beginning of time. She's got my undivided attention. Living for her, from now on. Upward and onward.

Self For Self

That's Marilou, my manicurist and reminder that to this day, I'm still ticklish. We always laugh about it.

self-care n. 

The care of oneself without medical, professional, or other assistance or oversight. Dictonary.com

It took me a long time to truly understand the definition of self-care. To be honest, I'm still learning (I don't think that will ever end). You don't arrive to self-care, you are dragged. For me, the panic/anxiety attacks (sharp chest pains, unsettled stomach, insomnia, etc.), wasn't a big enough clue. I needed to be hospitalized, to be sure. *long extensive eye roll*

Last year, I found myself in the emergency room, believing my body was against me. About a month later, I had outpatient surgery (endoscopy and colonoscopy). I'd seen a few doctors, and no one could figure out what was wrong with me. I wasn't able to eat anything but greek yogurt and toast, for about 4 months. When I wasn't trying to get them down, I was bedridden and in excruciating pain. Like, seriously, what in the ever-lovin-fuck was happening to me? I was sure my body was hosting something. I was prepared for labor. That's the only way I know how to describe it (and that's not saying anything, really, as I've only ever birthed hot tracks...ignore me).

So, one tube up my ass and the other down my throat. When it was over and I came to, I was groggy but also a bit nervous and anxious to hear what my doctor had found:

"...a bit of redness. But overall, you have the most impressive colon I've ever seen. Have you been stressed lately? Anxious? I would suggest you be more pro-active in handling any anxiety you may have. You do have a mild case of gastritis...that's all."

That's all. That. Is. All. THAT'S ALL?? Wait. Because American health care (thankfully, my insurance covered most of it...thanks Obama. I suppose.) I felt silly and very confused. That's when I realized just how powerful our minds are. I was so depressed and anxious, that it made me physically ill, to the point of a tube in the ass. I guess I wasn't doing a very good job at managing anything.

I discovered that this feeling just didn't come upon me, it's always been there. I was a high functioning anxious person, with depression. Eeyor and Piglet, all in one. Funny, they were always my favorite, too. Kindred spirts. Best friends forever. My 16th birthday party was a Winnie The Pooh themed extravaganza (not really an extravaganza, just a bunch of teenagers in the dark, slow dancing in my living room, trying to feel what ecstasy felt like *eye roll*). I was even called Pooh by some of my friends. I've lost the plot. Need to find my way back.

Anyway, my point. I've since, learned to manage it all. I got myself a personal trainer. I don't "pre-do" my hair, before I go to the salon (I used to find it hard to part with the extra $45 for a weave removal and wash). I let Marilou tickle my feet and manicure my hands, every two weeks. I've done this for one whole year. Honestly, I don't know why I wasn't doing this before. I'm so happy in this self. Having a therapist has worn me out, but built me back up. Happy with this self. Growing in this self. 

You should try it. 

Anyone who has a problem with it, can fuck right off.

Go forth. Onward and upward.

I Want More

I was molested when I was 7 years old. I think that's a good place to begin. 

It's never a good time to be sexually assaulted. There can be severe trauma, at any age, with any kind of abuse. The levels in which we are able to guide ourselves through it, can vary, depending on ones own personal life experience. At 7, the only thing I knew - obey my elders. My abuser, was a friend of the family, an elder - he's dead now. May his spirit forever suffer.


"You're too young to know what you need. That's why you have to trust me. Do you trust me?"

I can't recall how long I trusted him. When you're that young, an hour can seem like an entire day. For many hours, I trusted. For many days, I trusted...I never stopped trusting, until I did. I didn't understand why I wasn't allowed to tell anyone. With all that I know now, that was the very moment I began to adjust myself, for the sake of others - whom I trust(ed). You never really think that an experience from your past, can guide the very person you become in your future. I will be 36, about a month from now. Just a couple of weeks ago - a revelation. All my life, I've accepted others dismissiveness, of my feelings, as me over-reacting, or being irrational. May his spirit forever suffer.

Over the past couple of years, I began to realize how much one can be shackled to their trauma. How decisions I've made, regaurding people I love(d), were solely for them and never myself. Therein lies the problem. When those people choose to dismiss and/or mistreat me; utter devastation. I feel everything. I feel it all. I become physically ill. It feels torturous. It feels...like I'm being molested. May his spirit forever suffer.

I'm journeying onward to love myself, listen to myself and trust myself. My feelings are real, they are sound, and they are meaningful. I will embrace them wholly and will always believe in them. Onward and upward.

My life is mine. It belongs to me.