Simply

Just another manic Monday


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When I start to pace…

***I wrote this on December 11th, 2016. I’m going to post it as is, I won’t add to it.***

I keep pacing the floors of our house, repeating the same thing over and over and over again. I’m anxious, unfocused and can’t sit still. I’ve looked in our fridge over 10 times in the last 20 minutes. The contents don’t change, they stay the same. But my mind tells me that I haven’t done that yet and so I remember I’ve looked in the fridge as I’m standing looking into the fridge. 

Most times when I get like that I force myself to sit down and do mindless tasks. But even that seems like too much. I’ve closed and reopened the same app at least 20 times in the last 10 minutes. And now here I am going through my blog, reading old posts and remembering what was happening to me at this time last year or even the year before. 

I think I’ve done the November blog post a day the last couple of years. I signed up for it this year and because of where I was mentally and physically I just opted not to write on the blog. I spent countless hours writing but saving it on my phone, uploading it or writing it with pen and paper. It’s always interesting when I’m done writing to see how many pages of paper I’ve filled.


The last one I did was 19 pages front and back. It was me writing out how the last session with my counselor would go, what my responses would be and what I wanted to talk about. I can laugh about that now… it never goes as planned, as the way I have it written down and hoped it would go. 

When I got to my session, I looked at her and literally pulled out my stack of 19 pages and said this is the conversation I had with you last night. It went great and I think we figured out a lot… but things never go as planned do they?! And then we chuckled, me more because I was irritated that I was about to cry and I felt so incredibly bare. I.Love.Control. Anyway I can have it I take it. Especially when it comes to matters of the heart, of my past and the such. I need to be able to control that part of me. And she (meaning me) just doesn’t like to listen to reason. So I end up feeling small and alone and vulnerable. I don’t like that. 

Anyway…
Namaste my friends,

I


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Most times…

Most times I can skirt the news, the drama and the craziness of this world by not having live tv, by not watching tv at all, by not picking up a newspaper or reading online news outlet websites. All of it done on purpose. To avoid seeing and hearing things that can be activating for me. 

I need and crave peace, pretty things, love, fucking skittles and puppy dogs. But occasionally the world creeps in and I feel it. All of it. And it weighs heavy. As I try to grapple with ways to fix it, to fix the problem, to make all better in the world. And I end up sad, depressed, anxious and upset. And I walk around with a big ass attitude and fuck the world mentality, until someone, something reminds me. It’s not you, it’s not your feelings, it’s the feelings of those around you, of the world because you let them in…

Ike and I talk between ourselves, between my sister and her partner and we all end up pissed and angry. And so we shove it all away and say we can’t talk about this anymore. I’m mad and I don’t know where to direct my anger. And so because I don’t know where to direct my anger I need to push it aside. Move it, shift it so I can comfortably keep going through my day/week/month. 

But today, today… I am just stuck. Not only by what’s happened in the last 24-48 hours, but by the silence. The silence of those that aren’t brown skinned and are close to us and our family. By the lack of compassion from people who say it was their fault for being killed while black. For the idea that we have to paint these men, women and children in a negative light to make their killing FUCKING JUSTIFIED! By the blind eye that is turned every time a person of white skin is taken in alive for an offense TEN FUCKING times worse then reading a book, selling cigarettes or cds. But by fucking golly you should do what the fuck they tell you to do otherwise you’ll end up dead and it will be all your fault. But what about the people who followed the letter of the law and still ended up dead? I’ll wait. 

I’m so tired of well he used to do this or he used to do that, WHO THE FUCK CARES. Was he doing that the day he died? Did him reading a book require a fucking death sentence?

I’m so tired of well what about black on black crime? What the fuck about it? What about white on white crime, gay on gay crime, Muslim on Muslim crime? Why is it when a black man, woman or child is MURDERED the question always comes back to black on black crime? 

Why don’t we do that when a white person bombs a fucking building, kills a theater full of people, shoots up a FUCKING ELEMENTARY SCHOOL OR COLLEGE. Oh I forgot, he has mental illness. He wasn’t right in the head. 

It’s even worse when a female has been raped. Well, what was she wearing, did you say no, why were you there, were you drinking, did you ask for it, well it’s your husband can it really be rape? 

Black guy does it, lands UNDER THE FUCKING JAIL. White guy does it, oh poor Luke is too privileged to be in jail. Let’s give him a suspended 10 year probation sentence. 

I’m so tired of not being seen, of not having a voice, of being patted on the fucking head and said but you’re different. FUCK YOU AND YOUR DIFFERENCE! FUCK YOU AND YOUR, BUT YOU ARENT LIKE MOST BLACKS! 

What is that going to do for me if I’m found hanging in a jail cell? What is that going to do for my husband if someone deems him suspicious and kill him? What will that do for my son if someone says he shouldn’t be in our neighborhood because he’s too black. What will that do for my daughters if some pompous prick feels he is entitled to her body?

I know, what ifs. They are all none existent right now and I hope for the remainder of our lives on this earth. But it is a thought that crosses my mind every time my heart walks out of the front door of our house every day. 

It can be like PTSD hearing about the injustices happening, about how we are still not even considered human enough to matter. It’s draining, its anxiety ridden, it can be depressing. And so that’s why I stay unplugged. So that I may skip all of this while I work through my own personal issues. Because these issues and my own issues on top of that is crushing me. I’m doing lots of self care and showing myself compassion. BUT, I’m still saddened by the way of this world. 


It’s time to stop hiding, step up, step out, get uncomfortable and fully own your story. Whether it’s the story of the collective or your own personal story.    Own that Bitch! 

I know this could sound like a rant, but don’t do that. Don’t  belittle my truth down to the “Angry Black Female”. I’m speaking my truths, if you can’t handle it, if you want to add more to it that’s YOUR STORY NOT MINES. I have a right to be upset, scared and anxious. And I’m going to go with that. 

I don’t know what my piece in this will look like except to keep offering love. To keep teaching my children about Love and how to figure out who They are in this world full of noise and hate and scared folks not knowing how to say that out loud. 

Anyways, I would end with Namaste. But Nope. Ponder on the picture below.


✌🏾️Peace, Iiona


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Things to look forward to

I’m sure I will eventually post the story I wrote a few days ago. But for now, now I want to stay in the light and so this was what we had to look forward to…

We got a foster care placement on Wednesday, literally 4.5hrs after we made it back home from South Dakota. It was everything we didn’t ask for and more. We have come to the conclusion that we are too ‘old’ to have anyone under the age of 4 in our house (unless someone decides to make a joke and the vasectomy we’ve had reverses itself. Please note; I’m not laughing)…

We are also keep it to one more, maybe two more kiddos but definitely not three more. Been there, done that! And so we get a text message about an emergency placement, we are the last resort otherwise they will split them. The suckers we are fell for it. Lol! No matter what they will be split into at least two homes, there are 4 of them and a baby on the way. Our home only has 3 spots. So here’s to hoping our close friends who are foster parents will be able to take them so that they can see each other a lot. 

Anyways, so out of the three only one of them met our requirements. Haha! So we now have a house of six kiddos, 15, 10, 9, 4, 2 and 1… Whew! I’m tired just typing that out. Needless to say it’s been busy. 

The other exciting thing we had to look forward to was our youngest had her 9th trip around the sun on Sunday! 


She has been counting down to her birthday since April. I’m always happy when it finally gets here, she is so funny! This year I dropped the ball and didn’t bake cupcakes for the friends that would come to her party. Let’s be honest, I was just plain tired. So I bought a cake from Walmart (the only store open at 7am on a Sunday morning) and made her two little cakes (because… Dairy allergy).

She could care less about anything else other then eating her cakes and swimming. Also one of her gymnastics buddies had a swimming party as well so she got to celebrate twice. She was happy and so was I.


It’s so easy to get caught up in the darkness, find some light and stand strong in that. 

And to finish the post, I chopped my hair on Thursday. It’s cut, I feel so Boy George-ish! 


Namaste


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Seconds turn into minutes…

Seconds turn into minutes turn into hours and time continues on… tonight it continues on as I lay awake trying to figure out what is holding me hostage. 

My body is gripped with tension and anxiety and uncertainty. 

I’m unwillingly being dragged along in the wave of emotions that keep crashing against the shell of my mind. 

I’m not sure if I should cry, scream, laugh, throw up or just be. I’m feeling like I should do all of them at the same exact moment. And then once I’ve done that do it again but this time faster and full of gusto. 

My body is ignited with energy, but my brain is sluggish with exhaustion. Who will win this battle tonight? 

If I allow all of it, what happens once I reach the shore? Will I find myself standing on the beach front looking out into a vast sea of nothing and no one? Will I find myself smack in the middle of a party full of people and not seen nor heard?

It’s the unknown, my inability to control what is going to happen next. I want to be able to have a plan in place for the next steps, I’m a planner. I can’t plan how to handle a complete melt down if I don’t see it coming. I need to have a list of what each step looks like…

1. Find a counselor and talk

2. Cry on cue

3. Laugh to avoid the hurt

4. Remove touch

5. Skim the surface of that issue

6. Avoid the conversation by not answering the question

7. Push the easy button

8. Panic and fall apart

9. Stare at yourself in the mirror confused

10. Ask how did you end up HERE

11. Realize boxes are falling all around you

12. Sleep becomes elusive

13. Never ask for help

14. You’ve done it… You’re cured!

15. Realize that you’ve screwed yourself 

16. Commence to freak out AGAIN

I’m standing here… trying to ask for help but not sure where to go to get it. I know that sounds so incredibly crazy, I have a therapist. But… what do I say to her? What questions do I ask? What prescribed list of answers do I give her to the questions she asks? How do I navigate this minefield of boxes and bombs that threaten to go off at any turn. I feel so lost, tired, exhausted, unsure and uncertain. 


I feel so incredibly vulnerable and it is giving me panic attacks. I called, because the number is there. And had to leave a message… 

“Hi, this is Iiona…I don’t even know why I called, but I did. Feel free to call me back if you have a moment. Bye…” 

I hung up the phone and instantly regretted the need to have to call someone. And then I regretted placing the phone call and actually leaving the message. And then I regretted remembering all of the times I needed help or an ear to bend and I had no one there but myself and how it felt like I was in a room full of 1000 people and I was all alone. And then I regretted the thought that I even needed anyone to make it through, because… I’m 36 and I’ve survived this long alone. What’s another couple of minutes. 

The feelings will pass, the anxiety will subside, I will remember LOVE and life will be easy for a little…. Until the next box falls off of the shelf and I’m trying to figure out how to navigate all of the things that fell out of that box. 

Seconds turn into minutes turn into hours and time continues on… tonight it continues on as I lay awake trying to figure out what is holding me hostage. 
Goodnight!


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I think…

It is only 6:15pm and I feel as if I’ve already gone through two days since 11:30am. I am tired and only wanting to shut the world and all of its stimulus out my going to sleep. But, life…

The youngest is with dad at gymnastics, the middle one is at the park with friends. And the oldest one is cooking us dinner, because I just couldn’t. Luckily there is freezer food and pasta to get us through the night. 

I am beyond exhausted, but have a laundry list of things that need to happen and keep piling up. I want to turn everything down, curl up on my bed & just stay there. But, life…

So I turn on my music that soothes and I start knocking shit off my list. Small at first, I can only focus on small. Nothing too intensive or that requires a lot of brain power. Because my brain is mush. 

I had an exceptionally hard therapy session today. I thought about just telling her I was completely happy with where I was at and that I think I’m done with therapy. But then I would of had to tell her that through the barrage of tears that refused to stop coming and as I dry heaved because I became physically sick to my stomach. This shit is fucking hard as fuck. I need to cuss to emphasis my point of how fucking hard this shit is. Like fucking, fuck, fuck, fuck…

Anyways, since then I’ve been combating feeling sick, feeling anxious, feeling overwhelmed. I’ve been dealing with some awesome sensations rolling in and out of my body at different times. It, All of it, can be so draining. I guess I would rather be drained because I purposefully took a box off of the shelf and started to deal with it vs trying to shove everything back into the box as it fell off of the shelf. 


I took a short nap, I need like 20 more of those. Bedtime will be sweet serenity… As long as the dreams stay at bay and insomnia doesn’t kick in. I figure if I drink some wine before going to bed I won’t be able to do anything but sleep.

Anyways, I’m praying for myself and sending positive vibes to my bed. There is where I will fight the most, dreams…

Well here’s a good thing so it’s not all poor me and I want to wallow in self pity as I go through dealing with being sexually abused. I’m an ass, I just realized that. 


But anyways, it’s Tuesday. There is a school dance on Friday and the twins (that used to live with us) have their second birthday party on Sunday! I’m excited, they are so sweet. Plus, I get to play with two of them tomorrow for a few hours. 😊

Namaste, I