Are there times in your life where you felt secure in your understanding of something but unsure how to communicate it with others?

Yeah, me too.

I have lived a life full of experiences and trauma. Although, I’ve become okay with understanding that it is the past and most of it was installed by narcissistic dominance figures to wit I was a legitimate threat in their story.

“Venenum bibimus pro nobis mentes nostras.”

“We drink the poison our minds pour for us…”

If I was to tell you I was never at fault for representing myself in a way unbecoming of a human being… I’d be the biggest sack of shit liar drawing breath. Instead, I accept that throughout the greater part of the last vicennial I have warranted the title of “Massive Bitch” because of my actions and decisions. I have lost friendships and relationships by:

1. By My Own Hand aka Self Sabatoge-

Have you ever met a German blooded Pre pubescent female jock with undiagnosed ADHD, aggression issues, extreme social anxiety and a pure distaste for the human condition? Oh wait.. rhetorical question.

It ain’t all sunshine and unicorn fart being that female. Especially at that ripe young age when Game of Thrones would consider me a woman.

Let me break it down for you real fast, and I sure hope you read the very first post because… prepare for some truth.

I wasn’t plagued by intentional aggression.. I pass my annual VA appointed behavioral and empathy tests. Instead I was plagued by AHDH.

Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder.

ADHD fucks with you. CONSTANTLY. When your a wee one (birth to 4) you’ve pretty much developed your own coping mechanisms for the constant stream of thoughts and associated paranoid driven anxiety. Most babies… they cry or require self soothing in the form of a rhythmic disorder.

Examples: Shaking one’s foot until you’ve lost feeling in your foot because then your leg is no longer restless. Consistently banging the crown of one’s head against the crib rails or toddler bed resulting in a malformation of the soft spot resulting in a non painful molehill on the child’s head.
The requirement of soothing music constantly, snuggly swaddled and in the arms of a maternal figure or you’ll find out what the worst sound in the world is. Which then turns in those delicious sweet morsels known as CARBS and overweight toddlers because eating our feelings is how we cope.

The thing of it is… those habits and coping mechanisms evolve as we grow because the paranoid anxiety and inability to organize the Amazon inventory of thoughts in our head at once. We won’t even go into how the aggression then plays into all when you instantly forget something 2 seconds after you heard it.

I am an undefeated champion at killing a social relationship mentally before I even think about attending a party.
AKA If I don’t want to do it, there is a 99.9% chance it ain’t happenin’.

Yet I have the ability to sit here and explain this all to you on the internet because I have now reached the point where I have sabatoged the last 30 years of my life for my own stupid pride and caused more damage mentally for putting myself in the situations I did.

That is what happens when you can’t control the Penny Dreadful constantly replaying in your mind and by the time your 22 you no longer find value or meaning in your own life outside of sacrificing for those you love. However you’re so scored from the years of self sabotage and drinking your minds poison…

You either turn to drugs, alcohol, violence or whoring about. Sometimes.. it’s the lovely South Sound StreetWalker special. A combination of all three.

Then there is the energy for days. Restlessness. The well adjusted ones are able to take this restlessness and channel it into a talent. Although I was not completely well adjusted, I was controllable about 80% of the time. I never had the patience for books.. but sports. There is something I could excel at. My father recognized this talent. He nurtured it and grew it. Unlike my brother, I wouldn’t foul out of the game. Bonus… I was usually too tired to think after ‘feeling the burn’.

Winning.

The organizational structure of sports and the strategy behind it was what saved me as a kid. I didn’t have to communicate outside of what I could physically perform. This I can do.

In a story for another day, I’ll tell you how I found out I am a German bred Farmers Daughter.. but physical activities that require strength and stability as a young hatchling was my bread and butter. I understood very early on that I was built naturally stronger than most other people.

I also spent the majority of my time in my own little world of imagination. I was not a very situationally aware child until it came to competition.

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2. Due to Circumstances Out of My Control-

Yeah, I probably shouldn’t have gone about it allowing myself to be physically and mentally abused at the hands of those who ‘loved’ me.

“You feel the need to learn things the hard way, don’t you?” -JPK🦋 aka Mothering Parental Unit

It’s been 36 years, but to answer your question… clearly I did.

(This sounds so much less like a middle school breakup in my head, but…)

It wasn’t you, it’s me.

Legit.

It was because my genetically preprogrammed personality and communication skills and abilities were NOT compatible with my Mothers. This caused great stress on my Brother and my Father to whom communication has NEVER been an issue.

Sadly, the irreversible damage to the relationship between my Mother and myself was caused by 2. Circumstances Out Of My (and your) control. We function as well as we can, but regardless I will never abandon you. You both saved me from that fate when I couldn’t do for myself. For that, I will always remain loyal.

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Lastly,

3. I needed to learn that when someone gets upset because you stand stalwart in your boundaries, that is the undefined limit of the adjacent beings respect for you.

Read that again. Take a moment and let it really sink in.

…et miramur cur tam male sentimus.’

..and wonder why we feel so sick.’

I am 40 years old. 

It wasn’t until 359 days ago that I finally learned the lesson of boundaries.

Spending a lifetime seeking approval that you are worthy of being loved you tend to undervalue yourself, greatly. 

This in turn causes an individual to adapt and attempt to change to please those they see as dominate. When they are incapable of doing so they spiral into a state of desperation and depression.

‘Why am I not good enough?’

On this day one year ago I called my big brother MLS after being MIA for the better part of two months. I told him I was afraid that the man I was currently riding home in a Freightliner Cascadia with, had thrown me across the sleeper again, busted my lip open and robbed me blind of my entire tax return.

Sobbing on the phone while blubbering through a fat lip, “I want to leave. I’d rather live in my car than end up in the hospital again because he can’t control
his bumps.”

In my desperation following a string of relationships gone wrong… I thought I could love an blue eyed boy from Southern WV. I could even look past the fact that he occasionally would disappear for hours at a time to his friends house, up the holler where there is no reception. I was willing to accept that I was the problem because I was unemployed and without a vehicle. I had nothing.

What I wasn’t willing to accept was after I had moved in and I witnessed you and your ‘friend’ sniffing Crystal off the kitchen plates. Then it was all bets off. I asked to not go around it all, you forced it into my world.

I wasn’t willing to accept opening up myself and being vulnerable to the person who constantly told me I wasn’t good enough, or complained because they wanted to blame their sexual dysfunctions on anything but the Meth.

I wasn’t willing to accept the final time I had to lie to the doctors because the truth of it is… you picked me up out of bed while asleep and threw me into our double oak dresser.

I wasn’t willing to accept that when I went to the local police department to ask an officer to escort me to retrieve my personal belongings from his house..
I got told there was nothing they could do and I’d have to survive the night until the Courthouse opened in the morning. All because of your last name.

I wasn’t willing to accept having an unregistered derringer pointed in my face and my life threatened for trying to fucking help you get clean and see yourself for more than the piece of shit you still are.

I wasnt willing to accept whatever story you’ve made up in order to turn me against anyone socially. You didn’t make yourself look like anything but a drug addicted jackass.

It wasn’t until I decided to stop drinking the poison my mind was pouring. It wasn’t until I got tired of wondering why I felt so sick.

That is when I left.

It took me 40 years to learn that I generate my own happiness.

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To those of you who take the time to read what I post, Thank you.

Have an amazing day. 🍋💋