My Little Furry Care Provider

I was having a really silly dream right before I woke up this morning.  I was sleeping in bed (suspiciously in the same position I was sleeping in for real) when a butler came into my room with my breakfast.  (I think I’ve watched too much Downton Abbey in my life).  My breakfast was a bowl of sugar pops cereal, which I can’t even remember the last time I ate cereal, let alone sugar pops.

I was trying to wake myself up enough so that he knew he could leave, but I wasn’t fooling anyone.  I started talking about some joke that included me teaching French.  I don’t actually know French so my joke was being done in English with a French accent.  Realizing that I wasn’t actually speaking French, the conversation shifted into how much funnier it would be if I taught a class in how to speak French accented English.

I thought I was being a riot.  I could not figure out how the butler was keeping a straight face and patiently waiting for me to actually sit up to eat breakfast, with all of my shenanigans.  So finally I sat up, he handed me my bowl of sugar pops, which I was wondering how he kept them from getting all soggy in the milk and whether the next person the butler was going to, was going to have soggy cereal because of me taking so long to get up.

At this point I started to wake up for real, because I had a little black Gir kitty walking into my room meowing at me.  I was just as reluctant to wake up as in my dream.  At first I thought his motivation was him wanting food.  I knew his wet food dish was empty because I had given him chicken from the day before instead of his usual canned food.  But this cat has never been motivated by food, so I wasn’t completely convinced that that was the situation.

I’ve been slowly recovering from both of my ears and deeper sinuses being blocked for quite some time.  I don’t know how long it’s been going on, but it must have been for awhile.  All I know is that it was reaching a point where I was barely able to get any oxygen into myself.  I began the long process of reversing all of it.  It took a long time to get to that point and so it’s taking a long time to recover from it too.

Each step that I take helps remove a deeper layer.  This has been a process of weeks and weeks.  It’s been like chiseling away concrete using a needle, but I have made some incredible progress.  It’s getting easier to breathe, which in turn is making it easier for me to sleep at night, which in turn makes it easier for me to get through a day before I start hitting anxiety, which in turn puts me in a more overall pleasant mood.

With where I’m at in the process, a good portion of my body that has been basically frozen in survival mode, is starting to relax.  More feeling is starting to come back into me, and with that I’m noticing just how exhausted my body has been from all of this.  So I feel relief, I relax, and then I’m like holy shit I am tired!  I had absolutely no idea, how over time, my body had started to fight more and more for the little bit of oxygen I was letting into myself.  It’s that stupid conditioning thing, where something happens slowly and subtly enough over time, that you don’t realize it’s happening.

So this morning I was almost in a drunk state of relief and exhaustion.  “Omg it feels so good to be able to relax {slobber} I don’t want to get up ever again.”

That’s the state I was in when Mr. Gir came sauntering into my room.  I was too crashed to even get mad at all his racket.  I was able to just stay there in my body, all comfy, not really giving a fluff.  It felt so nice to not become unhinged by what he was doing and my temper coming out.  I laid there comfortably watching what he was doing.

He was putting a paw onto my bed (I’m on the floor), walking himself into my outstretched hand.  Talking and going on and rolling on the floor and knocking everything over.  He was being adorable.  I could see an earnest want or need for me to get up.  This cat was on a mission.

So finally I was ready to get up and I started my morning routine, which Gir knows so well he leads the way.  Into the living room, open the blinds.  Plug in the internet.  Off to the bathroom.  Into the kitchen.  As I willingly cooperated with Gir’s monumental efforts to get his human moving, I noticed a whole change in his demeanor.  He got a little bit of a bounce in his step.  He started to purr so loudly.  He looked so happy.

In my half asleep (but very relaxed) stupor, it hit me what was playing out.  He has found a way to contribute to his family unit.  He has found something that he is good at, and that is useful and helpful.  It’s not just humans that like to feel needed and useful.  It’s not just humans that need a purpose in life.  As all of this went through me, I looked at him with new eyes and became as clear as day.  It was written all over his little kitty face and in his expression.  “Look mommy, look I helped!”

It’s something that I was incapable of noticing before my health started to return to me.

When I got him his breakfast (and mine) and went to sit down in the living room, he came and chilled in the living room as well, looking all extra pleased with himself.  His motivation had not, in fact, been about his food.  He was just doing his self assigned job.  In his own little kitty way, he has shown me more care than many humans are capable of showing anymore.

The little dude cares whether I get out of bed or not.  It may be for his own reasons (which are the best reasons for doing something), and it may not be a conscious thought . . . but it doesn’t matter to me.  I know care when I experience it, and he’s providing genuine love and care.

As for my dream, I can see how the more my health returns to me, so does my humor and joking.  I stop being so super serious about everything . . . I become more playful.  I, in fact, do wake up out of bed saying stupid things that I think are hilarious even if nobody else thinks they are.  And the sugar pops cereal was obviously a reference to being a kid.  My inner child returning.

And no wonder the butler wasn’t laughing at my hilarious french jokes . . . I mean, he’s a cat for crying out loud.  It had nothing to do with how funny my jokes were.  😀

Gir

Jenn’s First Video Blog!

Hello!  So I took the plunge.  I don’t know how many times I have thought about doing some video posts instead of just typing because sometimes it’s more appropriate for my mood, but I’m not a video person.  I had to setup a youtube channel and all kinds of crazy technical shit.  So anyways.  It’s short.  It’s just to get my feet wet.  It was even more fun than I thought it would be.  Ha!  Now you guys will never be rid of me!  🙂

 

But Seriously, I’m Just Happy To Be Here :)

Waking up yesterday to the first full day of spring, I was really feeling the Sun’s move into Aries.  I was reminded of the core, base foundation of what Aries/Mars energy is.  The will . . . nay, the want to live.  Aries energy/vibration/frequency is what tells things, “It’s time to be born.”

It’s what motivates grass to grow and flower blossoms to bloom and tree leaves to bud.  It’s what tells babies to be born and the mind when an idea’s time has come.  “Now . . . now is the time.”  It’s not something you think about or contemplate.  That happened while in the womb, while in the dirt, while things were planning to come into existence in the physical vibration.  That is Pisces/Neptune.

No, Aries energy comes as the most basic instinct.  It is the “I want” feeling that comes from your root/base chakra.

Now, everyone has different expressions of this energy.  You can have Mars in any of the 12 zodiac signs in your chart, and you could have Aries in any of the 12 houses in the zodiac depending on the time you were born.  It’s like putting on a costume for Mars.  “Today, Mars is wearing the latest fall fashion of Sagittarius Couture.  In this very free spirited outfit, he tends to seek out dangerous adventures in the wild jungles of booga booga.”

But no matter how you express it, at it’s core, it is still our will to live.  It is the energy that brought you into this world, and it is the energy that pushes you to live life to the fullest.  Or not.

I was blessed (or not) with a buttload of this energy.  (Omg, Jenn, we KNOW!)  Well, for those of you new to the site, I have an Aries Rising/Ascendant, South Node Aries, Eris (rising), and Mars & Venus both in Aries.  I also have additional planets in the 1st house (the house of Self, Aries/Mars) that still more emphasizes my Aries/Mars energy even though they aren’t in the sign Aries.  Mercury, Chiron, & Sedna.

Do you remember back in school, how there were always those kids who seemed too stupid to know that they weren’t supposed to like school?  They were like teacher’s pets and all, “Ohh Ohh, pick me, pick me, I know the answer!” and doing all of their homework, etc.?

So that’s kind of what all of this Aries/Mars/1st house energy did to me in regards to life.  I’m all:

"I'm just happy to be here!"

“I’m just happy to be here!”

And the rest of society looks at me exactly how everyone looks at teacher’s pets, with disdain and disgust.  It is embarrassing, people.  I feel this joy bubble up in me (because as if my 1st house wasn’t enough, I also have Sun/Jupiter in Gemini. . . the energy of 100 white hot suns . . . if the suns were all great big kids – and also Neptune/Moon in Sagittarius . . . which is *the* optimist of the zodiac), and I am genuinely revved up and ready to get out there into life and make it happen!  Let’s DO this!  Woooo!

I am sincerely SO  HAPPY  JUST TO  BE  HERE! (On the inside)  But uh . . . I do not find a lot of people who share my enthusiasm for life, and there’s a point where my joy can just start to look like I’m being an insensitive asshole.  I want to fit in you guys.  I do NOT want to be *that* guy.  So if someone is all “God, life just fucking sucks.”  I’m joyously responding, “God, seriously!  Why does life have to suck so much?”  {Big grin . . . oh wait, I’m doing that wrong . . . furrow forehead}

"Am I doing it right?  Do I look more angry about life?"

“Am I doing it right? Do I look more angry about life?”

Okay, now I’m just shamefully (I *want* to say shamelessly) posting old pics of myself from a time before life took me down another couple hundred notches, so that I can feel better about myself.  These are about ten years old, (50 in single mom years).  Actually this is kind of fun.  I feel like I’m sharing an old friend of mine with you, because I am definitely not that girl anymore.  Okay one more with more of my Aries direct stare:

Then a few years later after shit really started to hit the fan for me (oh hi Saturn return) and weight gain, hair loss . . .

Jenn 2008

. . . oh, but wait, I’m still smiling.  (What the hell, Jenn?)  Okay . . . hold on I’m going to find one where I’m not smiling like a loon . . . ok I only have one I can immediately find and in this pic my family was camping and it was as hot as hellfire and I was so miserable I was ready to kick mother nature’s ass, and my mom thought that would be a great time to grab the camera.  I’m with my giant brother, Louis (I’m 5’9″ and he’s scrunching down to fit into the picture.  He’s like 10 feet tall or something like that.)

Me_Louie_2008

Anyways, I have unquenchable curiosity, and so I wanted to know why people don’t want to be here or to be alive.  So I went marching down that road head first like a spazzed out Alice.  Although instead of curiouser and curiouser, I was saying wtf? wtf?  What is wrong with you people?

No, that was a genuine question.  I wanted to know because something *had* to be wrong for them to be so unhappy to be here.  Okay, well, wait – I was *also* wondering what I was doing wrong because I was obviously missing some life memos.

Subject: Re: Don’t tell Jenn, but here’s intel that explains why you should *not* be happy about life.

Let’s face it, it is not cool to want to be alive, is it?  How ridiculous is that?  You are here–>  (red dot on life map)  The only way to un-be here is to “die”.  When that happens was pre-arranged before you came here, soooo you shouldn’t be focused on that and you certainly shouldn’t be trying to make it happen before then.  That totally misses the point of being here.

That’s like waiting in line for 4 hours to get onto the Space Mountain ride at Disneyland, and then cussing and bitching and moaning the entire time you’re on the ride.  Well, then why in the hell did you come?  Jesus people.  You know this is temporary right?  This is like a short ride.  It’s not REAL existence.  We are all pretending it is, but you guys are pretending a little too well and the “It’s a small world” ride has turned into a horror movie with creepy circus music playing in the background.

So I was looking at old astrology reports I had purchased on a site like back in 2009, because I like to see how far off the rails I’ve gone with how I see my chart.  Reading your own chart, over time, can be a bit like the telephone game where you say one sentence to the first person, and by the 15th person the message has gone from “I like toast” to “French whores smell not so great.”

It was a Life Purpose Report.  That sounds like a pretty useful thing to know.  So it had this to say:

With Saturn in Leo, your mission is to let your inner light shine, freely and joyfully expressing your multiple creative talents. When your creative expression comes directly from your heart, you inspire others to ignite their own creative spark. Ultimately, you are here to be a leader, brightening the planet with your unique vision and the pure joy of your being.

Having fun and creatively expressing yourself aren’t the worst cosmic assignments, but with Saturn in Leo, embracing the pleasure principle does not come easily. Saturn’s sign shows your fears, blocks and challenges based on childhood experiences or family background. With Saturn in Leo, your natural exuberance and creativity may have been squashed at an early age.

Saturn in Leo adults often feel like they didn’t get to be children, that they had to grow up and take on responsibility at a young age. You may feel like you never learned how to have fun. Your work is to become more like a child, fully engaged in the present moment and openly expressing your thoughts and feelings.

As Leo rules the heart, Saturn in Leo can indicate a wounded or broken heart early in life.

baby

Do you hear that people?  Squashed.  All of that enthusiasm you see in me?  That is a squashed version.  That’s right, I have been holding back.  (Oh dear god no.)

But seriously?  (Haha . . . Saturn is super serious.) My job is to find and express my inner child?  That.is.cool.  But you know what, I bet I signed up for that job thinking it would be easy, before I came down here to a bunch of whiners and dicks who feel like they’re too good to join in on life and actually, god forbid, be seen shamelessly enjoying themselves!  : )

I’m just messing, I love you guys.  But seriously . . . lighten up.  I’ve got a job to do here and you’re not making it very easy.

Hello?

Loneliness is a strange thing in my mind.  It’s not always obvious to me when I’m experiencing it.  It’s not always obvious to me when I’m trying to hide from it.  It’s not always obvious to me whether it is me that is lonely because of cutting off from everyone else, or whether everyone else is cut off from me.

As I speak, where Venus (What we love) is currently located in the sky (Taurus 3 degrees) is the same degree that my natal Chiron (Wounded Healer or Deepest Wound) is located.  Even when a planet as lovely as Venus comes near something that owie in our chart, it is going to hurt.  I don’t relish when any contact is made with this degree on my chart . . . but I also learned not to run from it.  At least with Venus, it helps soften it enough for me to summon my courage to keep my eyes open as I look at it, even as I’m saying “owie owie owie owie owie” through my tears.

Because I do want to see it.  Even if it’s gross and gory with broken bones poking out of the skin, and makes me wanna throw up.  How else can I take action to make it better if I don’t know what I’m dealing with?  Either way it’s going to hurt, but at least this way I have a chance of some day being free of it.

While in most cases I don’t have any problems going where angels fear to tread, Chiron is one area of my life that I pretty much have to be tricked into facing.  “Oh look Jenn, what’s that over there?  Is that cake?  That’s definitely cake.  You should go check it out.”  Otherwise it’s a whole bunch of nope.

Nope Finger

 This is in my 1st house of self, so it’s like a linchpin anchored into the core of my psyche.  It’s also conjunct (right next to) my natal Mars & Venus which are very personal planets.  Well, and them both being in Aries, you can’t get anymore personal than that.  So inevitably, to get to my personal Self, I have to navigate the ninja land mind that is Chiron within me.

Chiron in mythology was an immortal and revered centaur who was a great healer and founded the ‘school of heroes’ in which many greats were trained.  One day he was accidentally shot with a poisoned arrow (one of Hercules) and despite his extraordinary healing abilities, was unable to heal the wound.  He was in incredible pain, but because he was immortal he was unable to die.  He had to learn how to come to peace with it.

One day he comes across Prometheus who is going through his own miserable existence from having stolen fire from the gods and was being punished by being chained to a rock and every day having his liver eaten by an Eagle and every night growing a new liver.  (I have to hand it to the gods for coming up with some pretty gnarly and yet creative punishments.)

Because of Chiron’s own personal experience of dealing with an agonizing situation of his own, he felt compassion for Prometheus’s situation.  He couldn’t heal himself, but he could help Prometheus and in doing so . . . he *did* help his own pain.  Chiron offered to give up his immortality to Prometheus which would free him.  Prometheus became immortal and broke free from the rock he was chained to, and Chiron dropped dead.  It was a win/win.

Actually, Chiron was given a place in heaven as a constellation for his great sacrifice and is now all sparkly and magical.

I have to tell you though, I’m less than thrilled about this being in my first house of Self.  It’s not in my house of Other where I come across others that are wounded in life.  It’s not in my house of Humanity or large groups of people that were wronged in history.  It’s not this thing that I encounter outside of me where I can see it and look at it objectively and figure out how to help from the comfort of my own skin.  It is this *thing* that has always been present with me since birth.  And I can’t be who I really am unless I walk smack straight into this pain and just stand my ground within, until I am strong enough to be able to bear it without passing out.

It’s like trying to get emotionally strong enough to be capable of performing open heart surgery on yourself.  You obviously have to stay conscious and fully present the whole time along with great discipline and endurance to stomach some raw gory shit.

There’s a point where you have endured so much pain for so long with no let up or relief, that something else starts to take you over.  Something that transcends normal everyday existence.  It’s too much to hold onto and live with, and so your choices become to either die or to let go of things that really do not matter.

I think it’s also important to understand that this pain I live with, I was born with.  My mom said I suffered night terrors from birth.  I remember having dreams that were so real and lucid that I was traumatized by them over and over.  One dream I remember when I was six, was of being a girl of about the same age in a house that was on fire and the smoke and flames were getting into my room.  I was trying to get out but the doors and walls were too hot.  I was trapped and forced to my bed where I started to lose consciousness from not being able to breathe.

I became fully lucid during that dream which felt as real as real life, but I could also feel my current six year old body thrashing on my real bed and me screaming at myself to please wake up and even scratching at my eyes trying to force them open so that I could end the nightmare.

I have never really been able to talk about this ever present pain in me.  There are no words for what I experience inside.  I wish I could.  I want to.  Not for sympathy . . . not for pity.  Not for attention.  It’s this burning need to try and reach anyone else out there that is going through this same pain and have lost their own voices to express this indescribable *thing* that they live with every day and who nobody ever truly hears and who are never allowed to truly speak and who feel alone in life because of it . . . to say that I understand your pain and that you are not alone.

There is one thing that living with this pain does not do, and that is procure a desire to compete with other people about who hurts or suffers more.  My need, my desire to be heard is not one born out of selfishness and need for attention.  It is not to get my way or to excuse my behavior.

You know how sometimes a person will yell out when they’ve cut or hurt themselves unexpectedly before they get control of themselves?  That is the same need in me that pushes me to find a way to express it.  I don’t talk about my stuff to whine, never moving on with my life, I am driven to find words to say it, to share it.  And something about sharing it, heals something in me.  When it reaches someone who knows this same pain, it has the ability to help heal something in them too.

In fact, if I go too long not actively working on this and doing this, the pain becomes crippling in me to the point that I can barely function and then I have to start all over again to get back to the same point I was at before.  Just like Chiron where he was in pain but couldn’t heal it for good, but he also couldn’t die.  I have no choice but to deal with it in the manner that it needs to be dealt with.

If I had to put a name to what it is that pains me right here and right now, I would say that it is the same as the night terrors I had when I was a child where I am conscious and lucid both in the sleep state and in the awake state.

I am aware of my soul Awake state at the same time that I am aware of my sleep human state and my soul Awake state is thrashing around trying to wake up from this night terror that we are all living in and think is real.  It’s not.  This is exactly like a bad dream.  You have to shake yourself awake, it’s time to wake up!

Please remember who you really are.  Please remember your soul and who you were before you were born here and lost all of your memories.  Please shake off the amnesia.  Please become present and come more fully into your body.  Please drop all of the petty and trivial shit now and remember yourselves!

I don’t want to be alone in this anymore.  I need for you guys to start showing up.  Where are you?  Are you out there?  Anybody?

 

Life In The Middle Of Madness

It is precious, it is a blessing to be capable of loving another human being outside of yourself.  To be able to experience that in life.  It means that you’ve opened up to love within yourself, despite the world.  To love, to be loved at this point in time is a fight that is well won.

We are all currently carrying the burden of our ancestors’ collective choices, both good and bad.  It is becoming increasingly rare for an adult to stay in a place of love for any significant length of time.  Why we continue to choose to see a person who has lost the ability to love as something evil or despicable is beyond me, when it’s quite simply become our reality.  Seeing it with such closed and hateful eyes only serves to make it harder for us to see where we are standing so that we can walk to higher ground.  And truthfully, it’s really hard to feel anything without also feeling the bombardment of madness exploding globally.

But it does feel shameful, doesn’t it?  I mean, who wants to admit that they are numb or frozen to feeling something that is such a necessity to existence and what we associate with what it means to be a good person?  Quite frankly, it’s embarrassing.  To say, “I don’t or can’t feel love.” feels like a death sentence, doesn’t it?  People start imagining serial killers and rapists.  God, who wants to be thrown in with that lot?  Amiright?

So good people who start to fall more and more out of love and more and more into fear, convince themselves that they do still feel love, even if it’s just memories of having felt it because there’s just no way they’re going to admit otherwise.  They’re feeling like holy hell inside, but can convince even themselves that they’re right as rain.  Denial is a slippery slope my friends, and fear is it’s lover.

When you are running from something inside of you and you’re scared to the point that it’s become a full time occupation, you aren’t in a place of love, plain and simple.  When fear has taken you over, when it has become your belief system and your reality, it rules you.  It lies to you.  It makes you think and believe things that are absolutely not true.

It is painful to see a loved one go through that fight, believing that they aren’t (or shouldn’t be) loved and the endless ways in which that can be expressed.  It can be so painful, that if you don’t watch yourself, you will start to lose your own belief in love.

It will slowly bleed out of you in your effort to convince your loved one that they are loved (no, but wait, I can prove it to you) and the endless ways in which that can be expressed.

I’ve been through this fight many, many times.  After every setback, rallying myself back together and determined to not lose the fight.  I love you.  I still love you.  I will always love you.  I will not let fear win.

But for a time . . . it did.

I have known no worse suffering in my existence, than in the times in which I forgot that love is real.

I’ve returned from there.  I do know and feel love again.  I fought with every cell in my body and beyond to come back to that place of love, to be once again capable of giving and receiving it.  I’m in the process of learning how to protect that precious feeling inside of me in relation to others.  How to not let it get drained away like it did before by trying to give it endlessly to those who have decided for themselves that they don’t deserve it, but at the same time not feeling like that means that I’m condemned to live a loveless existence myself.

I will say it again, it is a blessing . . . a gift to be able to give and receive love despite the world today.  I had no idea how rare it was until I lost it.  So now that I have it back, you can bet that I’m going to fight like a coked-up Lioness for the right to keep that part of me.

If a loved one has decided to believe more in their falseness than in their truth, that is their right.  Maybe to test themselves, like one of life’s many rites of passages.  Sometimes you need to be dropped into hot water to know what you’re really made of, so that you don’t live a limited and less than full expression of self in life.  If we don’t get pushed off of the ledge every so often, how else will we remember that we have wings?  (If you think you don’t have wings, then you are probably past due for a ledge shove.)

For me, when a loved one of mine has gone into that place, I’ve become committed to let them go on their own and away from me because it is something that only they can choose to return from just as I had to choose for myself.  I would much rather use that time to grow in my strength and in my love, than to fall into the hole with them and we both become stuck.  In doing this, choosing to stay in myself and in love, I can be standing strong still should they choose to return to the land of the living and need a desperate reminder of what love looks and feels like.

I’m coming to see it as my job and responsibility to not let the expression of love die or be forgotten in my life.  I take my job very seriously.  It’s the city of tough love and I’m the baddest bitch in town.  (<– My gansta rapper persona)

blue-frog-anxiety-attack-students

 

My House My Rules

Hey you know what?  I remembered something very important to me today.  So like if I say something that is true for me in a state of centeredness or true deep joy, and someone shows up in my sphere of existence and is in a very unhealthy self absorbed way and mistakes what I was actually saying . . . like there’s not a fluffing thing I can do about it.  There’s what I was actually experiencing and feeling, and then there’s the unhealthy person’s projection on me.  No matter how self conscious or responsible I try to be in what I say, people are going to take the most innocent things and warp and twist that shit into something it’s not and try to hand it to me as “truth”.

There are so many complexities that are not being taken into consideration when they do that.  There is how something feels and is experienced when your heart is opened, and then there’s the darker and heavier version of someone who is shut down or collapsed into themselves.  You can’t take someone’s open hearted flow of words and apply closed heart logic to it and call it truth or fair.  If you’re closed, whether you wish to admit it or not, you are not going to understand what I’m really meaning or saying so you can just shut the hell up and get off my site.  I have this many –> 0 fucks to give you.

I’ve done said that if you think your shit don’t stink then you can GTFO and I mean it.  I’ve had it with you narcisstic self absorbed, NO INTEREST in actually getting your life and shit together, endless excuse it’s never my fault, irresponsible for your own self and choices, I’m just interested on looking like I know what I’m talking about, false humility mother fuckers.  Fuck you.

You make it hard for people to tell the difference between genuine people and people who are just fronting.  You confuse the youth from understanding the difference between going through the motions and actually feeling and living it.  You spread falseness like a disease.  You waste people’s time, energy, and resources with your bullshit.  Good people.  People who are genuine and don’t deserve that kind of treatment.  Shame on you!

Wanting everything to be “fair”.  Wanting your bullshit to be treated as fair and equal as someone else’s genuineness?  How about no.  When you’re standing in genuineness, bullshit is pretty damn obvious . . . but when you’re standing in bullshit, you think everyone is standing in bullshit and not anymore “right” than you and therefore you’re equal.  Well, it’s not!  No matter how much you want to be in the right and don’t want to let the truth into your fractured and distorted reality, it doesn’t mean that it gets to be right and forced as a truth.

But Jenn, what makes you think you’re not doing that right now?  Because I know what both sides look like because I DID the real and hard work of taking an honest look at myself.  That shit has taken over a decade of hiding myself away from the world and moving through excruciating self honesty and not letting myself get away with ANY bullshit and taking responsibility for myself and everything going on in my life, even when it wasn’t actually my fault.

I didn’t sit there proclaiming to the world around me how I was taking care of myself and doing right by me and how I don’t need no man and the million of things people say trying to convince themselves that they’re actually taking action for their lives when they’re not.  Because when you really are doing what needs to happen to pull your life together, you don’t have time, energy, or even a fuck to give about how other people see you or what they’re thinking about you.  You are heads down and actually taking care of shit, not talking about it.

If this is something that you really have done in your life, then you are not going to have a single issue with me or what I say.  You aren’t going to have a need to “call me out”.  You are going to have compassion and understanding of others and not be so quick to judge.  You give people chances even if they don’t deserve it.  You actually care, not by meaningless words but by an energy that emits from you that people who are closed up and blind can’t feel or detect even if their life fucking depended on it.

If you haven’t done this work, you could stand to shut up and listen to those of us who have.  You might actually learn something.

 Scratchy Bleedy