New Beginnings and Bad Behavior

*Like all my posts… they come with a trigger warning… content may be rape, self-harm, and abuse, etc.*


I always avoid writing even though I have decided it is a gift of mine. Not everyone can adequately execute their feelings on paper. I really do myself an injustice by not writing as much as I should. It helps me in many ways and today I want to tell the truth.

For a while, now a lot of you know I quit my job because I was being treated poorly and paid even worse. How can someone work over 40 hours and still not get paid 500 dollars a week? This isn’t the first job I left where I felt like I am being overlooked and mistreated. I pride myself on my ability to survive. I can find a job as quickly as I leave a job. But, I have not found a corporate job, I lived off sex work. I honestly loved it at first, I got great attention off it and it paid my bills and lifestyle. I have to say that lately, I haven’t been living in reality. I feel like a Queen on a floating cloud playing games with my life and emotions. I also have not promoted my work again or even tried hard. I have been taking naps every day and surviving off takeout. I feel like I deserve to take a break from my responsibilities aside from my bills and Squish. I told my therapist to give me one more week and I’ll get my shit together and sign up for classes and start building a schedule for myself. I used to work three jobs, go to school, I had a puppy, and a serious relationship, on top of all that I made sure I begged my friends to hang out too and I was in DBT therapy which required me to spend four hours a WEEK there and they also made me do homework. I was on my shit. I slept maybe three hours a day because my ex would get off work at like one and I was his ride and I needed to be clocked in by 5am. This was my life. I lived for others and not for myself. I had no room for hobbies, for sleep, or for happiness.

No one cared and that was life. I pushed my poetry and dreams in the corner. I was a full-time wife to a part-time lover and I was neglected. By my family, friends, and boyfriend. I remember waiting in the DES office for an entire day to get food stamps because I lost two jobs in one day. It felt like Christmas when I got my EBT card and the fact that they wouldn’t kick me out of therapy. I didn’t eat for a couple days and I realized I was the reason my boyfriend would eat too. I had mouths to feed and a roof to protect. I pay so much in bills it is ridiculous. My debt is still sitting there like butterflies in a jar watching me avoid them.

I feel like my 20’s are a constant cycle of me being pushed in a corner and I gotta find new ways to fight back. Lately, I feel like I am defending myself too much. With my hands, screams, words, and art. I have had to block a lot of people and push toxic people out of my life. I shouldn’t have to fight for respect in my friendships. I shouldn’t have to beg my lovers for compassion. Everyone has made me feel like I am asking for too much when really I am asking for the bare minimum. This chapter in my life feels like a fresh start which isn’t a coincidence that my angel number has been double eleven. (11:11 or 1111) it’s been amazing to see them around the places I visit or when I tell myself to just look at the clock and there it is. This angel number means new beginnings are in store for me. The universe is opening doors for me and I am here to tell you all that I am walking past the threshold. I am working on some projects. Using this summer to build new relationships, work on my art, and find hobbies for the first time in forever.

Yes, I am sad. I have only ever experienced trauma and never love. My old therapist told me “Yedid… I don’t think you know what love is because you have never experienced it.”  That man made me cry my eyes out in that dusty office because he was absolutely right. The only love I have experienced is the love I am trying to learn and give myself. I am not trying to self-harm. I am giving myself more compliments than complaints. I am no longer settling for less than I deserve. Recently, I would like to address how some people like to throw me under the bus as the “toxic” friend/girlfriend/family member/person because of my mental health and I just wanna say that I see you, and I hope you all have the opportunity to see yourselves in the mirror. I am not toxic, fake or crazy. I keep my therapy certificate on my fridge like if it was my child’s finest art. I know what toxic looks like, and I know what being manipulated feels like too.

I have had a lot to face this summer. I am no longer drowning in homework so I have had time to sit in a lonely room and the only thing I could think about were the things that made me sad. Nothing loves sadness more than sadness, so here I am falling down what felt like a never-ending rabbit hole.

I wrote two poems this week I am excited to share and this time I actually titled them. I like to see them as the two different parallels I am facing at the moment.

LSD:
Now I get why love is compared to a popsicle,
Especially on a hot summer day,
When the sun hugs your skin like leather,
Clammy hands,
Short skirts,
Walking down the block to your street’s convenience store,
Feeling like a queen floating on a cloud,
The cool,
Sweet taste on your tongue,
The smacking of your lips,
Around spongebob’s black gummy eyeballs,
the messy cherry goodness dripping down your wrist,
As your tongue plays tag to your fingers,
This is how we learned to suck dick better,
When girls sit in a circle and pass chapstick like a joint,
Smelling like sativa,
Mirroring old memories of kissing girls in the smoke clouds,
Sitting in a room of incense smoke,
Soy candle smoke,
And blunt smoke.
Hotboxing our worries into the air ducts,
Sharing stories,
And a water bottle full of dreams,
We remember when this was our childhood dreams,
Living our best adult lives,
Watching the clock turn from 3 to 11,
We sit in the backseat of a car,
Now passing around our secret liquor,
Turning into teenage girls with our chismes,
Encouraging the other with screams,
ONLY WATER YOURSELF FOR GROWTH!
never to water yourself down,
with our tallest boots,
We stomp the streets with rhythm,
Like the powerpuff girls in disguise,
We sway our hips to compliments we give ourselves,
Trying to forget the lies we once believed about ourselves,
Each of my friends reflect a part of myself I love,
Holding our hands without intimacy,
Feeling their power with every pulse,
This is what womanhood is about,
Sharing stories of a time where we mothered a man,
Taking showers with the door open,
Trust.
Trust is so foreign to us,
But so natural in our relationship,
This is for my tears in their palms,
And their tears in mine,
This is for love.
Love for my women,
And love for myself.

Maybe more than just PTSD controls my Nightmares:
I had to bring out the worst in me,
Just to be the reflection of you,
Shame has put their hands around my throat,
Suffocating in your wasted lies for the last time,
My lungs can’t keep up anymore,
My skin aches for a fresh start,
My dreams are out to get me,
Running away with my eyes closed,
I find myself back in your arms,
How many times will you make excuses?
How many times will you lie?
How many times will you cheat?
When will you finally kill me?
Searching for incompetence,
I came face to face with a coward,
I still can’t make up if it’s you,
Or me.
My feet have been rooted in your toxicity,
That now my leaves have turned yellow,
But you’ve convinced me this was your favorite color.
Watering down my senses to soften my pain for you,
Remember when love felt like trauma?
Because that’s really all I remember.
I remember your lies,
I remember to always believe what you told me,
I removed my voice and placed it next to your other forgotten trophies.
Remember when I was my own person?
and not a victim to your neglect,
Like an old friend passing away,
You left me without closure,
Searching for your face in every crowd,
Picking up my phone to call you,
Realizing that is no longer an option,
Discarded memories is all I was,
Searching for my goodbye,
It was like causing chaos on an ouija board,
and then just simply walking away,
I say hi to every stranger that looks like you,
I say goodbye to them in my head,
I wonder if they can feel my pulsating love for you,
Or maybe they can see the anger in my eyes,
But with a crooked smile,
I reset my powers all over again,
Closure isn’t real,
but sometimes a girl just wants her cheeks kissed,
It took you three weeks and six hours to get over me,
But I don’t think we shared the same love in the first place.
All the best parts of me now live in you,
Your new lover will experience what I taught you,
And why can’t that be enough for me?
Why must I wear resentment in my hair like cheap hair dye?
Showering twice a day to scrape off the stench of failure,
This feels like multiple losses at once.
I’ll have a funeral for my emotions.
The tombstone will say,
“Here lies the disease, infection and affection of a broken girl”,
My depression hasn’t let me leave the bed in weeks,
My depression has also granted me a second liver,
I realize my big mouth is unforgettable,
but can my voice be forgivable?
May I be allowed a chance to yell too?
Men love calling my attitude cute till it no longer serves them a purpose.
Men love calling me cute till I no longer serve them a purpose,
Now like a horror movie in my mind,
You haunt my nightmares,
Weaseling your way into the cracks of my clarity,
Anxiety won’t let me rest,
It’s always the same,
In a dark house,
In an even darker room,
I find you,
Surrounded by our friends,
And like how it would be when I am awake,
You find no room for love but room for shame,
There I am again,
Sitting in my humiliation and hope.
Bend over in disbelief,
I don’t cry,
Only sigh at the fact that I’ve done this to myself again,
I know the reflection in the mirror,
It’s my disappointment congratulating me.