Friday, December 11, 2020

5 Year Journal Day 200

      Today's prompt is "What are the ingredients for a perfect day?" When the temperature is between 50-60 degrees and it's sunny outside. When I am energetic and highly motivated to get work done. When I am not in pain.

     It is now 3:10 a.m. here. Yesterday, I got nothing accomplished. I was sooo tired that when my alarm went off at 7:00 a.m., I decided to turn it off and stay in bed. I did not care that I would miss out on picking up food. My body hurt. I had pain from head to toe. I had "dancing" spasms all over my body that were involuntarily moving parts of my body. I did not want to leave the bed. I slept in until Caleb woke me up to tell me that we overslept. LOL

     I got up to take my medications in the morning, and give Caleb his medication. I did not stay awake long before I went back to bed. I set my alarm to get up in time to drive to Caleb's appointment. I woke up and drove Caleb to his appointment. We did not make any stops on the way back home. I did not cook at all. I had a bowl of 2 cans of Progresso soups for dinner. I just did not have the energy to do anything. 

     I spoke with Violet on the phone for more than 4 hours! OMG! I have not talked to someone for that long without there being a crisis. It was awesome! We talked about spiritual stuff , healing, and growth. We talked about our pasts. I believe we were meant to find eachother. We have alot in common. Our pasts are similar. Our present is similar. We are both disabled. We both have had seizures. Her seizures are way worse than mine. We are both trying to learn about how we can better ourselves. 

     I told her about the sound I have been hearing when I lay down to rest at night for the past 3 nights. Bella has not been sleeping with me for those nights. She always sleeps with mama. She has been sleeping with Caleb. Caleb tried to tell me it was the tv I was hearing, but it wasn't. It wasn't my phone. The tv was off. It wasn't the fan, the portable ac, or my CPAP. The sound was only heard in my right ear. I could only hear it at night when I was trying to go to sleep, not during the day. 

     Violet was able to help me determine that it was a spirit guide trying to get my attention. 

     I am sooo thirsty this morning.

     We talked about Caleb, his aura, his time in the womb. I told her about how when I was pregnant with him, visibly pregnant, that my NCOIC came up to me one afternoon and asked me if I had lights in my hair. I looked at him with confusion. "No", I said. He walked around me, and came back to face me. "You have a halo!", he said. I was shocked, but not in disbelief. I did feel the spirit upon me as I carried Caleb in my womb. It's impossible to feel more connected to another human being than to be pregnant. I was not able to celebrate my pregnancy like most women. I felt differently as Caleb began to grow within me. That is why my post partum depression was so bad. I felt like I lost that special feeling of us being together. 

     I told her how my pregnancy was unplanned, and how I became pregnant due to Caleb's father "stealthing". I told her how we do not know who Caleb's father is.

     I told her how Caleb was visited by a spirit that appeared to both of us one day as a tall and slender black cloud when he was younger. It made him cry and scream. It made me feel uneasy too. I could not determine what the spirit was or what it wanted. 

     I did not tell her the story of my pre-hospitalization, but maybe I should. 

     I told her about when I was with Nigel one night in bed and had Peabody at the foot of the bed. I was under the covers about to fall asleep deeply, when I sat up without warning and moaned loudly looking at the corner of the room. Peabody was barking with his hair standing up on his neck and back looking at the same thing. I was scared after that. I was about 23 at the time. Nigel witnessed the whole thing. 

     Violet told me alot about her life. I do not feel like it is my place to write about it without her explicit permission. We are both spiritual people. She has been trained in many techniques of healing and was a RN for a time as well as a Reiki Master. Her heritage is at least part indigenous, Native American. We both come from abusive and toxic families and relationships. She is about 10 years older than I am. 

     She led me to do my first release spell a few weeks ago. 

     Violet is sending me some teas to try. She buys her herbs in bulk and makes her own blends. I hope she can help me find some teas that are both healing and taste good. I am determined to lose weight. I asked for her help in controlling my eating. 

     We are going to do some chakra healing soon. Probably today some time. I have to remove things that are weighing me down. I have to cut cords to people and things that don't want good things for me. 

     Violet asked me about my blog and I told her I began blogging as a result of planning for my death. When Christinia left in January, I was alone with Caleb, with no support system in place. I worked diligently to put up some kind of framework as to what was to happen if I need to be hospitalized and/or die. I worked day and night on collecting important documents and informing people who would be a part of my recovery team, and Caleb's safety net. I began blogging thinking that if I were to die suddenly for some reason, he would never know my life story. I do not talk about the things I write about with others, unless someone brings it up. It just doesn't cross my mind. During the day I am focused on doing tasks, and getting work done. During the early morning when Caleb is still asleep, I have time to reflect on things. These are my adult thoughts and conversations running through my head that Caleb may not be able to understand right now, but may one day need to know about me. Early in my blog I was writing my personal history, as much as I could remember. I was not writing about my daily experiences. I was writing about the traumas I faced, the traumas Caleb faced, the life changing events we both had. These are things that important for him to know , even if I die before I can tell him. Knowing that I made it through so much, will give him strength. Knowing my story will give him a place to start in life and still feel connected to me, no matter what life brings me. I want my grandchildren to know I was a warrior spirit who wanted to heal people. I want him to know that abuse in our family goes generations back and I attempted to put an end to it. I was the one who wanted to break the generational curses. I was the change in our family line that impacted future generations to come, to be loved and not abused.  

     I just want to leave my mark. I don't have a spouse to share my memories with Caleb once I am gone. 

     I also need a journal to be able to process the things I cannot share with anyone in detail. It takes too long to communicate what I need to, to be able to properly heal to have a normal conversation with a friend, family member, or therapist. There just isn't enough time, and I am rushed because other people have things they need to do, or the appointment is only so long. I need to be able to take my time, and not be rushed. I need to be able to think through what I am thinking and feeling in as much detail as I can to let it go properly. This blog helps me to slow down and think and feel as I need to. Alot of my day hours are spent on Caleb's health and welfare. The time I allot to the blog is about me and for me. 

     I may not recall everything in enough detail for someone else to know what the hell is going on, but it is enough for me to be able to move on. Part of the craft is intention. My intention behind writing the blog is to inform Caleb upon my passing what I was thinking when A, B, or C was going on in our lives, and for me to heal from past traumas so that I can move on with my life and grow in a healthy way. 

     Caleb is being a butt. He is wide awake and talkative. He just made velveeta shells and cheese and wants me to eat. Now he wants to eat it. WTF I told him I wasn't hungry to begin with. He tries to force me to eat when I am not hungry. Then he's like , "Can I eat your food? I'm hungry now." This kid.

     I told Violet about how Caleb is afraid of the dark, and won't sleep in his room because he hears stuff in there. 

     It is now 4:34 a.m. and everybody in the house is awake. Bella was woken up by Caleb. Caleb is eating and watching Sponge Bob on his phone. 

     Today I have no appointments to worry about. I am going to try to stay at home all day. I need to get some house work done, badly. I hope I feel better when I get up later in the morning. 

     Yesterday I watched one of Ethony's videos. I finished printing the workbook for this month. 

     I feel like our everyday life has significance, and one day we will look back on this blog and remember small things that we forgot. 

     I feel drawn to Violet. I wish she lived closer. Part of me wants her to live with me, but there is not enough space here, and moving is expensive. Caleb and I are just getting are groove back and can't live with other people. I just feel like I need to live with my tribe. I am glad to talk to her everyday. I like having someone I can text everyday, without getting on her nerves. I just require a life partner. For the first 18 years of my life I had Mathew with me everywhere I went. I couldn't go anywhere, unless I took Mathew with me. That was always the answer when I asked if I could go somewhere when I was a kid. "You can go, but Mathew has to go with you." LOL I hated it when I was younger. Mathew was hard to get along with when we were younger. When we were teenagers, I liked having him around though. When I went to college I missed him like crazy. I worried about my dad hurting him. I wanted to rescue him, but I was living on campus freshman year, and could not house him. 

     Sophmore year of college I moved in with Nigel. We had financial hardships, and I lost track of Mathew. Cell phones were still expensive, and smart phones were only for the wealthy. Mathew visited me a few times in Greensboro. We haven't been heavily involved in eachother's lives since we were teenagers. He inspired me to enlist in the Army at his basic training graduation though.

     I tried to be in his life earlier this year by supporting his wife and kids while he was deployed. I guess that didn't mean anything when the whole Trump comment came along and ruined everything between us. I guess I am not allowed to voice my opinion publicly. I guess he is not allowed to be questioned by a woman. I guess the need to control other people's opinions and thought processes runs pretty deep. Nichole apparently feels like I betrayed her by continuing to write my feelings in my blog that I have been writing in since ... April? Yeah, so this incident between us happened around August? So yeah, I am supposed to sit there and shut up because Mathew is in charge of their household. I don't live there bro. You don't control me. You might control the family you created, but you don't control this bitch. I don't live the life of the white privileged man. I have dealt with all kinds of hatred for being me, but I never expected to get it from my own brother. 

     He actually told me that I "needed to be censored. " WTF happened to freedom of speech? What the Fuck are you in the service for if you don't think the Constitution and Bill of Rights means anything? Am I not worthy? Just a paycheck I guess. Just another job with job security and good benefits. I guess I hurt both his and Nichole's ego. They never answered my questions when they read my blog. They never corrected me. They never pointed out how my views were wrong. They never tried to mend our relationship. It sucks being white trash to your own brother. 

     Mathew is not religious. Mathew is not Christian at all. He  did not raise himself like I raised myself. I went to church when it was offered by the now retired (pretty sure) CSM Mark Holly. He was only a sergeant when I was a kid. I babysat his kids. I went to church with his wife. His wife gave me a woman role model to look up to. 

     I was involved in Young Life as a teenager. I dragged Mathew with me. I went to Young Life camps. I had jobs to earn money so I could go. I am not even going to get into the shit Mathew did for money. Not even going to go there. I knew that I was loved by spirit. I knew Jesus loved me, even if I felt like no one else did. I knew that I had "someone" looking after me. 

     That's probably the biggest difference between us. I follow the teachings of Jesus. I love people and care about others, even if they not in my created family. I do not want people to get hurt. I do not want people to die a painful death. I want people to have food and clean water. I want people to have housing. I want people to have healthcare. I want people to generally be happy and healthy as if they were part of me. 

     Mathew and I came from a home where we did not know if when we came home if we would have electricity. Sometimes there was not running water. Once there was not hot water because the water heater broke and had to be replaced. Alot of times we did not have a working telephone and sometimes we did not have cable. We came home after school and were by ourselves for hours until my dad came home from work. I was supposed to look after Mathew, but he never listened. He also attacked me several times. A few times I had to barricade myself in my room to escape from his violence. He hit me so hard on the back of my head once that I still have a a scar and lump there that I found when I shaved my head to get tattooed. He picked something up and hit me in the back of my head with it from behind, making me bleed. He didn't care then and he doesn't care now. 

      It didn't matter that I would cook dinner, wash the dishes, and clean the laundry for the family. It didn't matter that I was a good student and didn't get into trouble. It didn't matter that I was his older sister and should be looked up to. It just didn't matter. 

     I didn't do it for him though. I wasn't a good person because I wanted to be looked up to. I was too young to think that way. I just cared. 

     Mathew was a wild child with alot of underlying undiagnosed issues. I had issues too, but they were so discreet that people thought I was fine. 

     It didn't matter to Mathew that when he caused trouble, we both got hit with the wide leather belt. I don't know why I was abused as a punishment for Mathew's bad behavior, but I was. Abuse is never ok, but I was being punished for what Mathew did. 

     I remember once in high school I went with Kristin Leatherman, a mentor of Young Life to the Oktoberfest in Ft. Bragg. I thought it would alot of fun, but it was so packed with people and the lines for the rides were so long. I ran into Kristin Brigner, a "friend" I grew up with. I said hi to her and she barely acknowledged me. I was so hurt. I cried on the way back home. I did not want to stay there any longer. I asked to go home. The ride was about an hour back home to where I lived in Southern Pines at the time. When I got home my eyes were red and puffy from crying. Mathew said I had been smoking weed. I'm like , are you kidding me? I do not need this. I don't remember if he told my dad, but I want to believe that he did. It was fucking ridiculous to believe that I went out to the fair with a grown up mentor of Young Life and came back home high. Fuck him dude! I was so heartbroken that I no longer meant anything to my old friends, as I thought about them alot when we moved all of a sudden at the end of my freshman year of high school. 

     We lived our young childhood years in Spring Lake, NC. We moved to Southern Pines, NC when Sharon became part of the equation. She didn't care at all how that would impact our mental health. She didn't even take us to consider what house to move to, or even let us know when we were moving. I didn't have time to tell my friends where I was going, because I wasn't told, or goodbye. I wasn't given an address to be contacted at. Nothing. All kinds of changes were made to our lives without our input. It didn't matter how we felt or what we thought. 

     I remember one time asking Sharon if I could call her "mom". She quickly and sternly told me "No!" She was not a mother figure. She was a bitch figure who only cared about how clean her house was. She gave detailed lists of chores to be done everyday and every week. It was fucked up. I was already keeping a clean house, but it wasn't clean enough for her. She brought all her shit from Michigan after her divorce was finalized. We were to dust her fucking library every week. She never touched those books, so why have them cluttering the place? Floors were to be swept, mopped, vacuumed, carpet cleaned. Crevices of spaces would be inspected with white paper towels or gloves. Bathroom was to be totally cleaned from top to bottom every week. Kitchen too. Every where. We were house maids. She did no house cleaning. Ever. Neither did my dad. It's obvious now if you ever go to where they are living that they have had everything done for them for years and they can't do it themselves. 

     I remember once when we were living in Southern Pines (high school years) Mathew called Sharon a bitch, and she hit him. Now, Sharon has a black belt in Choi Kwan Do. It's never ok to abuse someone. SMDH And the thing was , she WAS a BITCH! He was just telling the truth for once.

     Anyway, I don't need anyone around me who is going to tell me that I shouldn't write my blog... for ANY reason. 

     I need to go back to bed. I already took my iron pill and orange juice when I woke up earlier. It is is now 6:03 a.m. See what I mean? That took me about 3 hours to get through. It's a process. I can not speed it up just because I have to sync with someone else. It's not necessary, and it places undo stress on me. So SUCK IT! LMAO 


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