Monday, November 25, 2019

Faded, Butt Fabulous!

Faded, butt Fabulous Dragonflies

I'm safe. I'm happy. 
Across many miles, and hardships, I see your beautiful light!
You're fighting so damned hard to stay #Perfect; for everyone else, while being glorified, for falling damned beautifully! Don't let them clip your wings! 

It shouldn't take someone so "disgusting" as me, to point out that a trauma SURVIVOR should be screaming like an idiot, running around town; with their hair on fire, looking desperately for the help...they've truly needed! 
Jesus fucking hello, people! 

See what switching your addiction, to reflection, could do for you! Introspection is a muthafucker, for reasons, because goats πŸ¦™ #BluntSpeak 

Did they value my words, truly, before they dragged me; kicking and screaming, into "helping for friendships sake," when everyone knows that my Jeep isn't running? 
I don't get paid at all for this bullshit! 
I'm the one looking for a way to get to the damned therapist, that I've been fighting so fucking hard and long to get; now that I've 'fucked shit up appropriately,' in my "dirty cock" way. 

And now, these "friends are worried?" 🀦🏻‍♀️πŸ’†πŸ»‍♀️πŸ’¨πŸ’¨πŸ’¨

What. πŸ‘The. πŸ‘Actual. πŸ‘Fuck.

They asked me to bear Free Witness, and ridicule me in the name of fucking ego and persona, and think they're truly just fine? Who the fuck keeps telling them these things? It's not fucking true, assholes! They're  the fucking drama-queens! And they're  doing it publicly, and then blaming me when they pop back in to beg for fucking help, when I can't even get out of my fucking bed some days? Who the fuck do these people think they are? 

Advocates, my asshole friends! 
Starfish muthafuckers, that's it! Look at them like a #Patrick, snd it gets easier to laugh; rather than absorb their hate, and wear the shame of their words, And their actions. Wear your #love well and #Safely! 

Switch your addiction, to truly loving yourself, and be there for the people who truly do matter! 
They're broken for reasons beyond their control, and you are truly fucking not helping. 
Quit asking me to champion for people, on my #whitehorse, and Yes I fucking went there!!! Color matters here, and you don't need to know why! There are many colors in this fabulously fucked up rainbow fart sparkle party, jerkface. 
I see you, because you asked me to #witness #Freely, butt who are you to me, #FriendOfMyFriend? 

People calling owners of industry growers to say I hurt their feelings on the fucking internet. 
And you call me Crazy? Are you fucking serious, people? You're LIVE AND PAID
They are asking me to pay money, and show up, just to be blamed and ridiculed. 
butt #iAm fucking FineAF over here
In #ManicMandaLand πŸ’šπŸ€“πŸπŸ§š‍♂️
#MarylandCannabis #TheAdorkableAdvocate #MyFriend #Industry MedicalCannabis #LookAtMe #Money #Greed Hate Lies #PaidAdvocates 
Do you hear me now, muthafuckers? 🀨
Do you?! 🀨🧐🧐🧐🧐🧐

#DontSayJump #SuicidePrevention #SuicideAwareness #MismanagedManiaMyAssMuthafucker! 🀣🀣

AND #YouHaveATherapist #CommUNITY
Major #ChronicWarriors have felt that hardcore, in the harshest ways, so often; whether anyone would like to admit it, or not! #EqualButtDifferent 

Who's truly there for them? Are you, #MyFriend 🀫🀫🀫🀫

I've not met some in person yet, and feel their hurt. Use your words, with Empaths people. It does hurt

My Clarinet, sadly is gone

My Clarinet: 

My daddy bought me my used clarinet. I wasn't worth a shiny new one from my loving family, bc this was an extracurricular activity with freedom and responsibility. Failed band one term for missing a concert due to pneumonia though. Mom made sure she took me just in time for me to be able to stay hole, and not wreck anyone's good time, by dragging me to a school function for a holiday concert. 
My mom's oldest daughter borrowed that same clarinet, for my nephew when he was in elementary/middle school so he could learn an instrument. 
then she sold the fucker behind my back, and told me she knew I needed money to pay my car insurance. 🀯🀬
Few years later, Damn same sister begged me to move in to "save me from a bad situation," then tried to raise rent on a rampage; and when she wouldn't let me have my stuff to move, threw it all on the front lawn (mostly broken) before I got there with the Sheriff's to just get my belongings. 
This 'moving out of my sister's house' happened the day before my 21st birthday.
So when my family says "They Wish They Could," it kinda means something different here, guys! 
This is an adult woman in her fucking 50's! 
But she's #JustFine 

Saturday, November 16, 2019

Hormone Monster: Tales of teen bloodlust

#HormoneMonster: tales of teenage sibling hate during PMS 

I'm home alone, for the first time in forever, and there are actually still some potato chips in the bag! I never get to just enjoy chips, or any snack. Because I'm the family's trash compactor, of all foods that my siblings will not eat. 

I'm enjoying the salt, and crunch; and in walks my sister, already eyeing up the chips, and making her move to take the bag away. 

I immediately go to the defensive, saying, "no," and push her away. "This is MY fucking bag of chips, bitch!" 

I had worked too hard to keep calm through food wars with siblings over the years, for a fucking chip battle today. I thought, 'are these chips worth this fight that I'm about to have?,' and decided that yes, indeed, they are worth every second of the upcoming fight. I'd been fighting cravings and emotions, and crazy fights kept popping up, because my sisters loved to talk smack. So yes, she deserved a taste of the pain I get, while defending her mouth with my face. 

She thinks she's funny, and tries again. Ot doesn't help her cause, at all. I know her moves. I grew up studying my sisters, because they would gang up on me, when they were chubby and I didn't yet have strong enough muscles to fight them both off of me, alone; and without getting caught hurting them. No matter that they were the ones who came after me. 


I grab her by her hair, and ram her face into my kneecap, and as she screams loudly, her boyfriend walks in. I slam her head once more, pushing her into the barstools and bar. I'm no stranger to fights and have fought dudes, but I know her boyfriend wouldn't hit me. And I acknowledge it to myself, that Im trusting a man to choose NOT to strike me, and trusting his morals and ethics. So when he tried to help my sister, I mistake his move, but dont want to hurt him. I literally reach into my underwear, yank out my bloody pad, and put it on his shirt, using the half-useless adhesive that's barely holding anything together. It was beautiful! And glorious! And I was filled with disgusting pride at my successful tout of PMS-rage that I'd absolutely be hearing about for decades to come! Yay! *little celebration*

And they're instantly disgusted, and shocked! Enough time for me to grab the bag of chips, smack my sister, and run to my room with the bag of fucking chips. 

But I got MY fucking chips. 

Quit making your children compete against one another. And quit shaming the ones you force into servitude, to do your bidding for acceptance or attention. It's disgusting, and pathetic. 

And I'm being honest about my shadiest of shady shit here. You think anyone not mentally #afflicted would feel compelled to admit all they've had to do in order to survive. Shaming a victim is horrible, defending the abuser is worse. Let them eat their own mistakes and pain, as you've wandered, aimed incorrectly, at a constantly moving target of someone else's desires. Something you only know you want, because  it will bring someone else happiness. 

In conclusion, dont fuck with my chips, as I'm obviously touchy about food. Shame me if you feel the need. I will always feel the need to point out your lack of compassion, for most people. 

Because most people will only help those they know and associate with on a daily basis. They cannot look far enough outside their circle, to even try and make a single connection, or help someone they know in their hearts to be worthy and deserving. 

Friday, October 25, 2019

Curtail the mischief with celebration

Where’s the party, in this hellscape? 

Take a minute to remind yourself that you can remove yourself at Any moment. Nobody rules you. 
You are your own person. You set your own limits and allow people to trample them. 
I’m proof positive of backfired good intention, and loyalty. 
All my life, I’ve been conditioned to help others, and take their feelings into account, before mine. Every. Single. Time. 
No matter the situation, or reasoning; good, bad, hostile, peaceful, physical, mental, and/or emotional. 
And to be Grateful to do it for them, with zero thanks, obviously. 

My childhood was a mix of torture, and pure wonder. 
I’m glad I have #enough good memories, to be #enough of an optimist for myself, if not for anyone else. 
I read an article recently, about adults, after childhood trauma. Here is the link, if you’d like to read. 

I find it very interesting that so many people read these articles, and yet never apply the knowledge. They simply aren’t expected to, without instruction on ‘how to help someone,’ or a #howto #dummyguide of some sort. It’s unbelievably frustrating. Why else do they read these articles, it makes me wonder? 

At 26 years old, I had a roommate who was inappropriately  jealous every time I would go hang out with my boyfriend, or friends, and didn’t include her, or just stay home with her. It was exhausting, and I had tried everything to include her, and to make new friends for her also. She took joy in ruining friendships with people I knew. She would wreck friendships on purpose, and leave me hanging, while expecting me to comfort her. This was a woman that my sister invited to move in with me, without discussing it with me, before my mother even moved out of my apartment. 
So, I know clingy, and crazy, very well. I know what overreacting truly looks like. 

It’s tiring to be someone’s ‘equal & one and only,’ at will, conditionally. Especially when they set the rules, and make excuses for their breaking said rules. 
And then be shamed, for pointing out the inequality, double standards, hypocrisy, and any difference...ever. 

You become a person that you no longer recognize. You become the echo of every emotion, every person, every struggle, you’ve ever encountered; thus bringing on a lot of potential pain, harm, tears, irrationality, outbursts, spin-outs, and mumbled nonsense. It’s sad, and it’s real, in more than just one way. 

How do we avoid getting to this point, in any relationship? 
Respond in awe & wonder of the event, and proceed from there, and try to process the feelings, as they come. 
Start to realize which actions come first, which words, and which voice tone. Consider to whom you’re speaking, or making contact. Truly gauge your crowd, and see your actual role, in that group. 
What special skill makes you best choice, for a desired task? Offer any services in that area, and don’t overextend yourself, if you truly want to be included. 
If you cannot be of immediate assistance, but want to assist, kindly ask someone if they need help, with their task, so it can be accomplished more quickly. Do your best to work with someone with which you have something in common, or move to another group, to volunteer. 

If you have zero to offer, but negativity; such as thought, vibes, words, unsupportive behavior, belligerent verbiage, hostile actions, or unkind contact...walk away, before you get yourself into a position you’ll play victim, to escape. 
What were you doing here, anyway? What was your intention? 

For someone who is used to managing people, and situations; I am always considering who can be helped most, by whom. Knowing emotions, as people, has helped me tremendously. 
Having my ‘friends’ tell me that I should cut my losses, is unacceptable, to say the least. 
It means that they aren’t true friends. They’re friends of a certain group, outside this current situation. Maybe right now they can’t remove their blinders, enough to see the whole picture, from any other viewpoint. 
It’s hard to say, but inexcusable for them to say, “it’s because I care,” or “why are you helping This person?” Would they Not approve of me doing the same exact thing for them, as I have before? Have they Not already asked me to help This person, in the past, already? 

No matter what the situation, or who the person; set your limitations, and see where they go! They’ll show themselves. 

Try and show wonder, instead of stirring mischief. It’s not easy! I wind myself up easily, and will ramble until I wear myself out. 

Thursday, October 24, 2019

The Beast You Know & Love

It’s been a long year, of #WarriorMode2019. I’m not done yet. 

My marriage still isn’t safe. Being without his ring, must be making him more upset. I don’t like wearing it at all, mostly bc I am always at risk of losing the ring. 

This works for me, bc it reminds me of how easily our marriage could end, if I allowed anything to happen to the ring he gave back to me, just weeks ago. 

Last evening was interesting. 

As we face more difficulties with the extended family, since our son turning 18, I’m very unsettled with still being ‘out of the loop,’ about his life. And my husband thinks that encouraging him to spend time with me, isn’t the way to make a Mother-child bond, or something equally odd. Every father-fiber inside him, is seeming to say, “this woman is like the last one, and she’ll hurt you and your son!” 

And this has been allowed for too long. 

So how am I to help my son achieve the goals he has, when everyone else just wants to keep doing everything for him, including building excuses for all his actions? 

My son is smart beyond measure, but has never had to do anything on his own, and it scares him. I didn’t realize how bad it was, until yesterday. 

He didn’t pick up the paperwork from the school office, for the school transcripts and such, and also for college financial paperwork (FAFSA). He told me that he didn’t know who to see or what to say when he got there. The office emailed students and parents about this stuff, over a month ago, and have offered two meetings at school with advisors since then, already. 

Apparently NOT knowing how to do something, is a common barrier in this household, bc people would rather depend on someone else to do it, rather than attempt to do it themselves. Do-dependence isn’t always healthy. He’s getting the “go have fun” vibes and morals, and none of the “wash your hands & be helpful” vibes and ethics 

It blew up slightly, after our son went on to church last evening. 

Sonny: I can’t take the constant criticism. 

Me: I can’t take the lack of follow-through, and progress, due to broken promises...or you ‘forgot,’ bc I’m the one with an actual brain/mental issue, and I’m having to remind everyone of everything. 

Sonny: I don’t know how to help you! 

Me: so my telling you exactly what I need, and you Not doing it, is My fault? 

Sonny: I’m trying! I’m trying to help you, but you keep saying no, when I ask you about it. I remember trying to help you get motivated for a shower, bc you wanted to go somewhere 

Me: how recently? 

Sonny: you wanted to go somewhere with friends (this doesn’t happen often ~2-4x a month lately)

Me: Did you offer to help me shower last Friday, when I need one before my cardiologist appointment? 

Sonny: well, no I didn’t ask you then 

Me: so you didn’t help or offer. 

He told me again tonight to leave, so I took a beat, and asked him for a hug. 

He held me very close, almost too close, but I heard his heart pounding out of his ribs. I heard the pain. I asked him to let go of my head, so I could move it. I readjusted into our hug, and stared out into space, again. 

Then, I started to realize that he has never wanted me to leave, even if it is better for the both of us. I was standing, numb, in his embrace; wondering, ‘Can I feel happiness again, or pain? Or have they truly broken me?’ 

I try and wiggle my arms free, but he mistakes it and holds me closer in the hug. I ask kindly to have my arms back. 

I gently smoothed the lines on his face, with my numbed fingers, and reminded him that I love the beast inside of him also. 

Because of my past, I’m conditioned to be attracted to the anger inside of him. 

Check your circle, and see what they say to you about your significant other. Are you listening to them, or the words of your significant other; or both, and weighing their separate viewpoints. 

It’s very easy to be swayed during rough patches. Someone will try and step in, and take over, while saying they are being Your friend. They will hurt you, tell your secrets, and then lash out at you; forcing your significant other t defend this ‘friend!’ Is this just or fair? No, but trying to show your SO what you know is true, will make them more angry with you. 

Are you listening to your vows and promises that you made to your significant other, or the whispers telling you how bad this person is for you? 

Monday, October 7, 2019

My sexual being

In my 20’s, I had been told that a close friend lost his virginity before marriage. It didn’t shock me, bc it was his body/choice; and between himself and God. It was told to me, bc the family was shocked. They didn’t know how to deal with it. And humor is the way to handle it, obviously! 

I wasn’t shocked to hear the family say that they had always figured I would be the one to take his virginity, if anyone. 

It was a source of pride in self-restraint, and my respect for this friend & his choices. We had dated, in this past, and only kissed. Because I have soulful relationships before physical ones. 

On the flip side, I’ve had a male fried sleep next to me in bed, while dating someone, and threatened to cut off his parts if he touched me, and he respected my choices/body. 

In this life, we’re made to explain ourselves, even to those who should understand us the best. 

Friday, October 4, 2019

Chapter 5: Entering my 40’s with less understanding of ‘normal’

No surprise to see I had to escape reality yesterday. I took my two guys hostage, for #FamilyDateNight (my son hates when I call it this), to see ‘The Joker!’ It seemed appropriate, after the decade I’ve been through. 

#PerfectTiming #SilverLinings #MyTwoGuys

Sonny was able to keep his day off work, and we got to both of my appointments, early! Despite many much #2DaysPastNever #FunFuckery going on! Gotta love Thursday’s! 

We get to the cardiologist 45-50 minutes early, and I’m ecstatic! I have time to ensure I’ve completed all the paperwork! 

No, Amanda! You’ve gone to the wrong location, and need to head straight into rush hour, to get there on time. 

Can we do this? Yes, We Can! 

And arrived early, too! God I love weird adrenaline rushes. 

🚨 My fears are odd, and valid, based on my worn tread. The twisted & unhealthy coping mechanisms mayBe slightly varied in this model! 🚨 

Cardiologist: scheduled echocardiogram, nuclear stress test, and halter monitor ❤️ recheck in December. 

Cardiologist said I do have EDS, and said to see a rheumatologist for diagnosis, and he will check my heart for the irregularities that are common. *all simply bc I grabbed and pulled the skin on my arm, exclaiming that I had zero idea until this year, that it wasn’t normal. 

The nurse there helped me find a loophole, in order to medicate for pain safely, without breaking the rules of the nuclear test; since my insurance is quick to deny claims, and medical cannabis is usually a concern with any of my physicians. It’s definitely listed as a prescription for my pain management (and then some!) 

So, the cardiologist’s Urbana, Md office, is about 3 minutes from my favorite dispensary! 

Guess who grabbed meds & munchies before heading to the Duck Doctor!? 

This bitch, right here! πŸ’š

Pelvic Pain Specialist: 1st prescription: 20min walk outside at least 3x a week. Recheck in a month. And the ever popular Pelvic Floor PT. We discussed the muscle tightness, especially on the right side, and how a hysterectomy may not help someone with the level of pelvic floor dysfunction that I have. 

Also, I definitely have something systemic. The problem will be, with which type of EDS I actually am diagnosed. Because the type determines my chance for helpful treatment. EDS is hard to diagnose, and harder to treat, even with specialists who understand it. Because it’s so complex, and bc I have so much trauma in my past, it’s just going to be a harder recovery than I was expecting. That’s not to say that I’m displeased with my Thursday. I’m relieved to be back with compassionate doctors. 

I may be able to avoid a kitchen renovation, guys! I’ve never had an issue with starting PT! I’ve simply had an issue with going with zero diagnosis reason at all. 

We discussed head injuries, and the lack of treatment or pursuit of answers, post-concussion. 

Thank God I’ll be seeing another new neurologist soon! Concussions are a major concern for me. I hit my head a lot, and have been knocked out cold, a lot, in my life! 

*One injury caused me to want to go to school for a math test the next day. Neck collar, 2 days rest, and back to school I went. Wooden A-frame ladder to the head, in school, on the stage during drama class. Thanks again, BHS! 

With each fall, hit to the head, I became more frantic, and the drs seem to care less about my brain, and more about the fear and ignorance of my #BiPolar 


#BrainInjury or #BiPolar or #BOTH? 

Also, I’ve started requesting that my specialists keep my MMCC ID on file. At this point, I will NOT be seeing many drs who aren’t cannabis friendly! So I want to be sure they are aware of how serious I am about my medication. 

I am proud of how far I’ve come with the help of medical cannabis. I truly am!! It’s helping me in more ways than I ever thought possible! 

The #Stigma exists for a reason.