Did I give up on love

Just the other day someone told me I was wrong about love. I had said that I didn’t believe in love.. They said, “no you didn’t. You just realized that you didn’t believe in marriage. But deep down, you still hope it exists.”

They are right. In a fucked up way, I do. Many things have crossed my mind tonight and love has been in my face. Everywhere I look, I can see it. I just can’t feel it.

It’s that feeling I used to have when I was growing up in a Pentecostal church and everyone around me would be filled with the Holy Spirit jumping around and praising God in tongues. And I would close my eyes and pray and pray and pray.. And I would never receive it. Still to this day, I wonder if the Holy Spirit is truth. Or if everyone jumping around me like a fool was just kidding themselves. I’m skeptical because I never experienced it.

I am the same with love. I was so close to feeling it with my sons father that it still hurts and saddens me. I thought it was real. He was saving up to buy me a ring, and I fled. I couldn’t “marry” the idea of being with one person forever. Forever could be so long or so short in a lifetime. Nothing has changed my mind.

My heart seems to be a rest stop for men before they reach their destination. Never have I been the destination. I am always just a pit stop, a place to take rest, a place to rejuvenate the soul and then I’m left. Maybe they may visit again, but only for a little while for the bare necessities. Their love, effort, and time is spent with another lucky woman. (And I’m one case, a man.) this is why I have never believed in it… Because I have never fully experienced it like everyone around me.

What. The. Fuck.

If ever I experience it, maybe I may believe in love.. Again. But until that happens, I’ll remain cynical.

Fear lingers

My biggest fear in life isn’t death, divorce, spiders, or mountain lions. Nope. It’s falling into a deep depression. I know it may seem silly to most since “everyone goes through it” according to most. But those of you who knows why it’s like to live days, weeks, months, or even years with no joy or peace know what I’m referring to..

Knowing that I am prone to this darkness leads me to racing thoughts which lead me onto that path once again.

I am petrified..


Lately I have had some random occurrences. Too many coincidences. However, I learned long ago that coincidences don’t exist. Things are meant to happen that way. Everything is perfectly where it should be. It’s come to my attention I am much more mature than I once was. I know I know, that sounds so cliché, but it’s the damn truth.

I have matured. I am proud of it damn it.

Someone told me this evening that I have a PhD in emotional intelligence. Another person this evening said they believe I have tapped into my psychic intuition. And a last person told me I have such great energy.. Good, clean, positive energy. These are all signs that the universe has given me and shown me of my true growth. It wasn’t always like this.

Some nights in the past I would cry uncontrollably wondering when I was going to die. Other times I would slit my wrist just to let the pain out because I had no right words or actions to express the deep hurt that had manifested inside my truest being. During the day I painted a beautiful smile onto my face and wondered just how many people could see its transparency.

I am fortunate. Fortunate enough I had the ability and endurance to climb out of that dark tunnel and know that I was the light all along. Knowing that I have overcome such incredible emotional battles has left me with scars of wisdom. People seek me for advice and ask how they too can achieve peace. I don’t feel as though I am enlightened necessarily, but that’s how many see it. They voice to me that I have answers. And really, it’s just that I was one of the lucky survivors.

Technically, I should be dead. Overdosing on sixty pills of Xanax and surviving to tell the story is an accomplishment in itself. Yes, it’s a dark one, but many stories alike in my short thirty years of living have allowed me the emotional intelligence others speak of.

I looked at my son today and just smiled. He is a ray of light that I never wanted years ago. To have a child for me was asking for failure. But he is my biggest achievement when I look at him now. He taught me without knowing that I could love someone else fully and unconditionally. And he’s taught me how to love myself. There is no void anymore. There isn’t a deep pit wondering when the next crash is on deck. Instead, it’s just lessons learned.

Unexpectedly I met someone recently. Someone who understands what family means to me, what love means to me, and also what I mean to me. They don’t know me yet, especially this darker side. But I know that they will accept it well. I don’t expect anything wonderful to come out of the relationship, but I wouldn’t mind the world surprising me. I mean, life right now is all a whirlwind of surprises as I am still living..

Organized religion can go to hell

Growing up in Organized religions like Christianity or Catholicism is so damaging… Especially for us who are mentally ill.

Why? Because it teaches us to have blind fucking faith instead of facing the issues in a healthy way. Whenever my bp acted up I remember people telling me to have faith and I just needed to pray more and seek Jesus. What a load of shit.

It’s one thing to have faith and know there’s a higher power that is inside of you and supports you. Something bigger than us that can help us see logic in most things and help us find reason and understanding in suffering. But it’s another to never deal with your emotional baggage and throw it under the rug to just leave it because it’ll work out.

Those types of habits permeate the rest of our actions and screw us up.

Sorry I’m venting. I have a lot more to say but I should get some sleep.

Celebrating Singlehood and Reclaiming the Word ‘Spinster’

It’s been a while since I’ve written and I need to come on here.. but the universe is definitely speaking to me. Because THIS has been what’s on my mind.

I visited an astrologist a few years back after recently having my heart broken. And she told me that it was written for me to accomplish much greatness in my life, that men would always continue to fall at my feet, but I would never find true romance in this lifetime. She said that men took my chi and that I would not be as successful in my talent of music if I chose the path to try to fall in love. I was very sad in hearing this, but in the last few years I have realized that she is right. And the universe almost blocks me from ever working out with a man. Of course, I write my story each day… However, I have now made the conscious choice of having intimate relations when I so choose, but do not look in “settling” down. Ever. I want to live my life easy and free, not grow old with anyone but myself and my son.. And that’s the decision I have made.

I will buy this book TODAY. And love how there are other women out there who choose to live the same.


Jessica Gross | Longreads | April 2015 | 19 minutes (4,797 words)

In 2011, Kate Bolick charted the sea change in our cultural attitudes toward marriage in her Atlantic piece, “All the Single Ladies.” Interweaving personal experience—she was 39 and single at the time—with reporting, Bolick posited that we are marrying later or not at all, with many women exercising their ability to have children without partners or, again, not at all.

The piece generated a huge response. In Bolick’s new book, Spinster: Making a Life of One’s Own, she approaches single adulthood from a slightly different angle. The book is part memoir: Bolick describes breaking away from a serious, cohabitating relationship in her late twenties, exploring her ambivalence about partnership, and wholly reconsidering her view of marriage. Along the way, she presents the stories of her five “awakeners,” the historical single women who shaped her…

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I’ve spoken a few times about the struggles my sister has and started a crowd fundraiser for her recently. Just two days ago… Please check out if you can donate anything to Her fund. She lost her eye last year and has been going through the toughest struggle of her life thus far. Please watch the video and share if this is something that interests your philanthropic soul.

My Accidental One-eyed World

Everyday I move towards acceptance. Acceptance of my new way of living, new face and new view of the world. Acceptance of something forced upon me isn’t easy. It’s f@#$ing hard! A small step forward followed by three steps back, quickly followed by a tiny step forward. I’m moving forward even if it is at a snail’s pace. I believe I’ve described my progress as sloth-like in previous entries so, I’ll stick with it because it is accurate!

The pace of the progress can be really frustrating but every time I take a step back or feel as if I might fall there is someone there to pick me up. I am surrounded by cheerleaders, motivators and supporters. Everyday I receive an uplifting voicemail, a love-filled text, a motivating phone call or a beautiful card. Everyday. I’m so appreciative.

This weekend my sister Tara and a great friend of mine, Jenny, created…

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We Lost a Friend Today (Trigger Alert)

This is an especially tough day. Let me paint you a clear picture. I wake up an hour after my morning call still with fever and congestion. The flu is literally kicking me in the ass. I got some disturbing news about someone I was once interested in. And I just continue to fight through. In Buddhism, we are grateful for obstacles, because the more challenges you have in your life – you are not stagnant. I have for sure not plateaued by any means in regards to today. That’s for damn sure.

When I walked into the break room at work this morning at 10:30 exactly someone came up to me and gave terrible, terrible news. Her relative committed suicide. Meanwhile, I didn’t exactly know this girl. I never met her. But I knew And you all knew her, too. She was one of us. One of our family. She suffered from bipolar (and psychosis).

Over the last few months my dear friend at work had invested time and trust into our talks about her relative. She is someone who isn’t like us and just needed to vent for the most part. I was there for her and gave her my advice as someone who has been through and is currently going through the troublesome times. A few months ago she told me that Natalie was doing well. When she described her current situation I instantly felt in my gut that Natalie was far from doing well. She was manic. And what happens after mania? A downfall. I predicted it and knew in my heart that she wasn’t okay, but never do I imagine that someone will fall down so hard. I know it happens and I’ve seen it happen. But I always want to have the benefit of the doubt that the disease is not as controlling as it is. But it fucking is! It pains me to say that. At least it is when you’re not receiving the proper care and you don’t WANT TO receive it either.

Last Friday she was going through a time that I grew familiar to years ago—before the awareness, before the therapy, before all of the hard work put into my life, before the sobriety, before the correct support—she was depressed. The depression that can only be described to the sane as a deep, dark hole full of solid nothingness. Where no light shines, because it’s too far into the earth and where our own light can’t even shine because it’s too hidden buried under any sort of stableness we never knew. The darkness that keeps us awake at night and wakes us up in the morning. Mornings where life is the most scary monster we could ever imagine and a smile is only a mask we were so that the sane can stop asking us questions.

I knew her feelings all too well that when I heard the news today I cried not because I felt for her family or the fact that it is a true tragedy. I cried because I know what went through her mind when she jumped in front of the train. It brought up the feelings that I had almost nine years ago. The night when I swallowed 60 xanax and somehow was jolted to a reality of pain. When my boyfriend at the time called me a selfish bitch and hung up on me and never spoke to me again. The Christmas I ended up in the hospital eating coal (what an ironic twist in fate) singing Amy Winehouse’s Rehab to cheer myself up in front of the nurses because if not I was going to really go mental. It was the day when my sister saved me because she happened to answer the phone.

But she didn’t have that. Natalie was so dark into the hole and somehow the universe was able to swallow her whole. The pain I have when I think of how much we all could have been there to save her, posing as her safety net with open arms because we understood her sadness.

It’s a sad day in my world today because her light is brighter than ever in this world since she has passed.

Physically Sick but Mentally Energized

My apologies for not writing the last few days. I guess apologies to myself. But I have been sick with the flu. However it’s allowed me some much needed rest and some time for reading.

I re-read one of my favourite books “The Four Agreements” and took even more from it than the first time. All agreements are fantastic but I especially like the second–don’t take anything personally. I need to remember this on a daily basis because when you make everything in your life about you for so many years you forget to realize that everyone has their own agenda.

What people say and how they act towards me has absolutely nothing to do with me as a person. What I think of myself is the ONLY importance because I have to live with myself each day. Peoples reactions to me will change with how they feel towards themselves. That’s why people always let us down. Because we take things personally.

I’m going to start really working on this in my everyday life and see the change it brings to me. Maybe at times it might seem as though I’m nonchalant or uncaring about circumstances. However, it will definitely help my overall balance because instead of having constant triggers, I will allow situations to more likely roll off my back.

Has anyone ever tried this? Or really been aware of this…?