This Becoming

 SHADOW JOURNAL PROMPT #25 "What was one time you can remember feeling wronged as a child? How did you react? How has this affected you in adulthood?" I can most clearly recall a bad fight my parents were having when I was young.  It was very scary. It plays back like the footage they show of war films with chaotic camera pans and shouting.  I went into my grandmas room and I hugged her, crying, telling her I was scared. She told me, "All you can do is pray." So I got down on my knees in the middle of her floor, facing her mirrored closet door, and starting praying out loud.  The door slams open, I look up to see my mother standing in the door way with this darkness clouding her expression.  "And what do you think YOU'RE doing?!!"  I am jerked up from behind before I can process what is happening.  My bottom is slammed onto the dining room table and there is a finger in my face  "this is your fault...don't act like you are innocent.. don't...

 What am I to do with all of this hellfire beneath my skin, the anger in my bones?  Anger has been the emotion I struggle to process, feel, and accept out of every other emotion I experience. I feel ashamed when I get angry, like it's sinful to be upset and to express it.  I have learned how to bottle it up until it justifiably explodes, and then, the gloves are off.  I have learned how to be passive, to "turn the other cheek",  to apologize for my existence at the expense of everyone else's comfort. My anger is repressed and comes out in passive ways because I am scared to sit with her.  I am scared to feel the extent of grief that is hiding behind her. The wall is easier to maintain, or, at least, it was.  The flames are swallowing me whole, the poison spreading. Jaded bitterness has seeped into my soul and the work it is taking to heal this, is turning into a vicious cycle. I get angry that I am jaded, that I am bitter, I get frustrated but ultimat...

It has been over a year since I last logged into this account to vent. I wonder what might have been if I were to be consistent with this. Since I last wrote, I have gone through a massive transformation.  I have become a mother to the sweetest and happiest little boy.  Moreso than ever before, my desire for mental stability is palpable.  It is no longer just about me. I am responsible for leading and guiding this little soul.  How can I teach him to process emotions if I, myself cannot?  How can I show him the goodness in life if I, myself, cannot see it? Postpartum has proved to be a storm to be ridden and I am sinking. I tried to be ahead of the game.  I made myself believe that what little work I had done would be enough.  But, I am learning, I only scratched the surface.  It's as if the volume has been cranked up on the mental struggles I was already going through and it is unbearable. With the added layer of new responsibilities and the disr...

 And then, it was August..... I am not going to attempt spitting some pseudo spiritual wisdom for myself right now, things have been getting increasingly more difficult in my mental space and I have been handling it the best I can. While getting into therapy is the goal, the main goal, it is a challenging task to take on and I wish more people were open with that fact.  The truth of the matter is, we are very much still in the cave man days in terms of our knowledge of mental health and understanding the importance of it in societies . For context lets look at a mini timeline of mental health in America: 1840- Dorthea Dix begins her work at dismantling the corruption in "insane" asylums. People in asylums were treated barbarically; no light, no heat, often chained, and their methods of treatment were sadistic. A push for state hospitals ensues. 1880- People are shocked that the state hospitals are overcrowded with people as well as misperceptions about mental health; people ...

How much have I grown? Because I cannot see it.. I no longer maintain shallow relationships or connections. I no longer feel the need to run away from myself. I can sit with her most days and I scream at her on others. I no longer engage in self harming behavior; I am aware of the harm I do to my body in real time and work to curb those behaviors. My substance abuse is much more controlled. I have a job that allows me to have weekends and holidays off. I can take days off without being bullied about it. I have a partner who listens to me, understands me, loves me, makes time for me, and who is growing along side me. I have enough money to pay my bills and survive the month with little treaties. I have a decent relationship with my parents. I am active in my life; I reach out to friends and family when they cross my mind. I am blessed with a good relationship with my partners family. I am artistic, creative, imaginative, magical and have made space for that part of myself. I am a work i...

   Never have I ever considered blogging.  It is in my desperation to find affordable therapy, online resources, a lifeline of some sort, that I find  myself creating a blog for myself. A space where I can work out things mentally in an "artistic" way  and hopefully help a couple of people make sense of their own paths.   In my early twenties, I was more vocal on my social media platforms about trials I was facing. I shared the good parts of my life right along with the bad. During that time, I cultivated a small community of individuals who felt heard by the topics I was transparent about and the emotions I was able to put to words.  In my darkest time, I was able to cultivate a light within myself that drew lost and weary souls near.  It is my hope that this blog act as a light of sorts for the same purpose; if you found me, welcome home.  While most view social media as a blessing or this great technological feat, as a 90s kid, I find...