I See You

Never in my wildest dreams did I think I would be in this situation again.
For the second time in my life, Child Protective Services has an active investigation open against me.
I’m sure most of you outsiders are shaking your head in confusion and shock at the same time.
I will tell you now what I have been telling medical professionals and the world for the last 5 years.
I have never lied about who I am.

Even when my demons were consuming the better parts of me.
As decrepit as my stability was for years, I never once faltered to say I was a pathetic human being.
Because that is exactly what I was.
Notice the past tense?
Please read forward and allow me to elaborate on some key things which have affected my views on my mental stability, my self worth, and my negativities and animosity towards the world.

I’ve been having an intense war within my mind.
The mood swings aggressively change by the hour now.

Matthew and I have decided we cannot anticipate which persona I will embody.

By removing the metaphorical ‘mask’ off my face that I have been wearing my entire life, (even in my childhood) it has literally opened Pandora’s Box.
I have had zero control over this unstoppable force. It has become an intense purging of repressed conscious/subconscious emotions.
I’d like to think that it will mellow out after a few weeks. But I refuse to set expectations of myself or others any more.
Expectations are simple. But when not met, they can crumble a person’s strengths and any will to keep moving forward.
Take this for example.
I love Finding Nemo. It is a classic animated movie loved by multiple generations.
I relate to Dori.

Her simple three word sentence she chants to Marlin as he is literally having a mental breakdown in the carcass of the ocean has had an impact on us worldwide.
”Just Keep Swimming.”
Do not read into it. Do not try to find a deeper meaning to the small yet significant sentence.
She popped into my head this morning after I had a life altering epiphone.
Call it petty and narcissistic, but I am fucking amazing.
I literally have SEEN the life I’ve lived so far and I am only 28 years old.
I have waged through more emotional combat than the average person most likely has within the first 30 years of their life. (Again, narcissism runs deep within a Borderline.)
I have hurt others.

I assaulted my marriage with emotional adultery.
I have battled self medicating.
I am an alcoholic.
I am an addict by all means to temptive impulsivities.

I’ve destroyed finances.
Crumbled family ties.

And was not there for my daughter the first few years of her life.
But before I counteract this lengthy list of proven negative qualities about myself, I will state that without these; I wouldn’t have been able to transform into who I am at this very moment.
Brick needs mortar. A mighty and intimidating fortress can be built to shield against the enemy. The walls could tower 20 feet high and appear impenetrable. Yet all it takes is a small hit in the wall to destroy the fortress.

“For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.”{Newtons Third Law}

This means that for every force, there is a reaction force that is equal in size but opposite in direction.
Let me ask you this. If I was an unstoppable force plowing over anything and everything to satisfy my selfish indulgences, why the hell wouldn’t there be a force equal to that strength waiting for me at some point?
The equivalent and opposing reaction(s) have impaled me in the gut multiple times throughout the years.
I have broken myself.
I have made attempts to rebuild.
But never once in the past did I actually affirm in my mind and soul that I BELIEVED I could do so.
Not until now.

Let me tell you what I saw this morning when I woke up.
I saw the same woman I’ve stared at in the mirror my entire life.
But I finally can SEE who I really am.
Yes I have fucked up royally beyond forgiveness too many times in life. I hold myself accountable for each action.
But because of that ownership, I’ve allowed myself to release that vendetta against the good person within. It was so far overshadowed by the darkness that I refused to open my eyes to see the true beauty and talents which I possess.
I have a gift with words. I know I have a way of writing which forces people to feel. Even if it is uncomfortable. It is nevertheless, a feeling.

I can paint.
I’ve written music.
Taught myself to play the guitar at the age of 13.
I have an impeccable way of photographing humans in their rawest forms. This had become one of my more favored art forms which took longer to convince myself to sabotage simply because it involved giving back to to others.
I have a stunning singing voice.
I have the ability to read people’s emotions even when they think they’ve had the world fooled.
I am an incredible mother.
I cannot make up for the years I neglected Keira emotionally. It just isn’t possible.
I used to view that as a severe regret which fueled a self pity so wretched, it was halting me from moving forward with myself.
With Self Love.
With Self Nurturing.
Keira and Guy are my sole purpose to prove to myself that I am better than my weaknesses.
I am stronger than who I used to be.
And I choose to change now.
But you see, I’ve realized I made that decision over two years ago.

Just like my fitness transformation within the last 3 months of our lives with my husband, you see results and it drives you to want more.
It becomes an obsession.
A lifestyle.
Success and self pride are two things I believe every person desires.
And I can fucking guarantee you that once you free yourself of all the bull shit excuses you’ve used against yourself throughout the years, there is literally nothing that can stop you.

This doesn’t just go for physical health and fitness.

I already know you understand that I speak on a holistic level.
Mind, Body, and Soul.
It is the dawn of a new era. I am not afraid. For I have nothing to hide.
I will be calling CPS this morning to follow up from their voicemail last night. I will most likely have an interview at the house like before.

I am confident that this will dissolve as quickly as it was procured.

May I ask you this last question?

How will you view your life, and the life of others after seeing through the eyes of another?


Stay Classy.

The Relentless General

How do you even begin to explain to the world that your 7 year old daughter wants to die?

I wish with all my heart this was not the topic I’d be writing about today. Irregardless, I have been sheltering the subject for quite some time. 

For I have refused to accept that exact opening question.

My beautiful child is more like me than I could have ever imagined…

As a parent, you take pride in such a sentence. ”My child wants to grow up to be like me.” I strongly believe that every person wishes their child(ren) would profess that desire at SOME point in their lives.

It is the exact opposite for me.

 I’ve been praying her entire life that she would never end up like me. Fate has proven me sorely wrong. 

My traits are manifesting out into reality through her beautiful little mind so much, that I am having enormous emotional triggers which are molesting any capabilities I have to function as a mother let alone, human being.

One does not have to be mentally ill to understand a trigger. If you’re not familiar, I will lay out a basic definition that I pulled from the internet.

{A trigger is something that sets off a memory tape or flashback transporting the person back to the event of his/her original trauma.}

Place yourself metaphorically in my shoes for a moment. 

A woman nearly 29 years old with a lifetime of suffering from a mental illness. To this day I am not confident with the proper diagnoses. (That I will touch base later.) 

As a parent, you will do whatever means necessary to protect your child.

A bully at school, for example, can be tamed or lessen the brutality of the attacks by being a proactive parent and speaking up to the school. It is not an easy thing to do by any means. Especially when you very well know that your good intentions could have adverse affects on improving the situation.

How can you protect your child from themselves? How can you possibly help them when they themselves, do not understand the demons they are fighting?

I would like to talk about my husband today.

He is a brave man.

He is waging against a war from the sidelines. 

He is the wounded general. Legs crippled by a mortor in the dawn of the fight.

Incapable of walking, he commands his troops to move forward. Never once faltering with the strength in instruction. Once given orders, the troops thunder Inward blind. Not able to anticipate what will come of them.

Once out of sight, the General becomes weak. Vulnerable. He knows very well that his soldiers may not see him with their eyes, but he can view the entire field of carnage from atop the desolate hillside from wence they came.

It is a weakness which is not procured from physical implications, but emotional instability. For the General knows damn well he cannot be next to his soldiers in the heat of battle. 

He is helpless viewing each ravage blow. Every carnal laceration that grazes the cadets.

Anticipating that the enemy has the potential of winning grants the general adjudication for what he decides to do next.

If his battalion is no more. 

If they lay waste upon the earth below him,

He will take his life.

To the enemy it is a grand victory. But their views on the real winner are distorted by the blatant ovbvious.

For the General absolves his cadets defeat the moment his pulse ceases to beat thanks to the tender squeeze of his faithful alloy trigger.

Back atop the hillside, he comes to and sees his battalion beside him, waiting orders. 

The dream he had procured in mere seconds is now an outlying back up plan. He has returned to the realm of the real world. 

And he is prepared to run down the hillside next to his troops. 

Till the very end. 

But that susceptability to weakness will always haunt him. 

And like any brave warrior, the General will never show fear in front of his company.

The Battle Within

My chest is screaming.
The anxiety is beginning to build within my cavernous walls.
I fucked up. I fucked up bad.
Why do you ask?
Because I decided to show my family who I really am yesterday on social media…
And that frightens me more than anything.
I very carefully maintained a 27 month streak without a self mutilating episode.
Yesterday I cut my face. But you have to understand, I’ve always cut my face.
As a teenager, it was the typical relief with my forearm and/or thigh. That was when I was a silent sufferer. I did not know what was wrong with me, however, even at the age of nine, I knew that something was severely different between myself and the typical nine year old.
Around the age of 17, I began hitting my face. Then I felt an uncontrollable force to ‘one up’ my abuse and started cutting my face.
It was the beginning of a marriage to pain. Her partner… relief. After my first experience, I was certain, this was for life. I was hooked on that sick and twisted purging of emotions. And knew right away it would never subside.