A Reminder

Those who love you are not fooled by mistakes you have made, or by dark images you hold about yourself. They remember your beauty when you feel ugly; your wholeness when you are broken; your innocence when you feel guilty; and your purpose when you are confused. 

- Alan Cohen

Secrets are about to spill

 

I have no idea how to start writing my story. I get the feeling sometimes it may sound like fiction because it is just so fucked up I have no other words right now. 

I’m not a professional writer and I am writing raw accounts of what I experienced. 

Here is a rundown of some of the things that I’m going to write about.

Put up for adoption only to be picked up, this is due to my grandmother. However, I would end up in my mother's care.

Taken from a country with my + father and given a false id in America.

My mother did not immediately come on this journey.  She followed later

I do not know why 

Mothers, I have had many 

Emotional abuse 

Physical abuse 

Abandonment

Addiction 

Rapes

Organized crime

Prison

Deportation ( betrayal )

Loss of children 

I finally cleaned myself up. 

Today I am still caught up in the cycle of shame and regret. 18 months ago I started reading about narcissistic mothers and their daughters. 

It was like hitting the jackpot.

I’m writing in order to heal. 

Make no mistake about it, I will no longer be the scapegoat. 

Secrets are about to spill. 

Trapped, Tribeless &Traumatized

Narcissistic Abuse left me a Traumatized Dysfunctional and Tribeless Hot Mess.

I’m going to write my life story to heal my scars from a life of a Toxic and Narcissistic Mother.

Damaged and broken so long, It’s either time to heal or be bamboozled for more emotional pain which most likely I’ll cause myself.

Trapped a lifetime with deep emotional scars that play in my head over and over again.

Held hostage by a narcissistic mother is like suffering from ‘Stockholm Syndrome’.

I’m not very good at adulting. however, I’d like to think that I’m a tough old broad.  

I’ll be writing about Addiction, Relapse, Relapse, and recovery.

Prisons, institutions, biker lifestyle,

Traveling, Interpol, gangster lifestyle,

Deportation from America To Amsterdam

Amsterdam Lifestyle, This is my first real attempt at writing a life story. I have a lot to say, so I hope that you hang in there with me.

Does the crap ever stop?

Does it ever stop? Does the crap ever stop? Does it ever get to the point where everything in your life is going great at the same time for any length of time? Does there ever come a day, when the warm sunny days come more frequently and last longer than the blistering cold nights?

I once thought that if I had the man my dreams and the love of my life all will be well. I also thought that if I had the money, not a lot of money, just enough to pay the bills on time and have a little bit of change left over, things would be great. Nope!

Now, out after overcoming seemingly insurmountable obstacles, weathering devastating disasters, moving through mind-boggling challenges, I was ready.

As a lay in the grass, watching my friends' dollar dog poop on the carpet, I finally got it! Life is about cleaning up the crap and, while you’re doing it, being okay with the fact that you have to do it.  Life is about being willing to take your naked body, your most vulnerable self, out of the warm water where you are comfortable, and clean up the crap without getting angry and losing yourself in the process.

A word of caution. You can’t get caught up in the crap! If you do, you will surely lose sight of the real meaning of life and lose yourself as I have done.  I finally understood I could not get caught up in what looks like, smells like, or how much of the crap is in front of me.

There were days when I would leave the little things in my life undone, or half did, in fear of making someone mad at me, in fear of losing their love. Sometimes just to make myself look tougher than I really was? There were times when I would sulk and cry about what I thought someone was doing or had done to me, believing that I was totally powerless to do anything about it. In many ways, I allowed myself to duck and dodge unpleasant situations in my life to avoid confrontation. This, however, was not one of those days, time, or ways.

I was choosing not to live like that any longer. I had spent enough days reflecting on this, in other people’s bathtubs to know that if you leave even a little bit of crap laying around in your life, eventually it will start to smell really, really bad. There are things in my life and about my life that has absolutely nothing to do with who I am now.  I have to figure out how to read my life of the nagging little struggles, bits, and bouts of confusion, unexpected chaos that continue to crop up.

It was time, to tell the truth. I am damage,  tribeless, with deep scars.  

 

An Uncomfortable Letter To Myself

 

I’ll get straight to the point. 

You're at an all-time low in your life. 
You've been like this for the past few years.
You've let time pass by without taking care of your broken scars.
Feeling flawed, empty, and alone, and out of touch with your feelings.  Alone and no sense of belonging. 
It's hard to know what you want, feel, or need. 
It's hard to believe that it matters. 
It's hard to feel that you matter.
I think it's time to do something about those 
missed opportunities and allow yourself to heal. 
Stop internalizing. Being alone is frightening, unbearable, and is suffocating you.
Your Inner Child needs to know:
You were a lovely little girl. Your eyes bright, your smile large. 
I am sorry that they didn't know how to love you, 
validate you, and encourage you. 
I am sorry that they wanted you to fit into a
box that was too small to hold your spirit. 
I am sorry that they made you feel bad for just being you. 
Snap at you for breathing. 
They wanted you to extend their ideals, 
a reflection of their "so-called" perfection. 
They could not just hug you and love you, for the expansive person you are. They wanted to make you smaller, quieter, less intelligent, less strong, less brave.
I am sorry your mom was so inconsistent with her treatment of you. 
You could never depend on her having time or affection for you. 
That she did not protect you. She did not comfort you when you needed her the most. 
The physical abuse was not your fault. 
She broke her bond with you every time
she placed you into another household. 
You never missed your family. 
They were not a source of support or comfort. 
The home was never safe. 
I am sorry for that. 
You deserved better. 
You will get better.
You are an amazing person. 
You are so very emphatic. 
Trust yourself to do the right thing. 
You are worth love and pleasant and enjoyable life. 
You deserved so much more than your family gave you. 
I am sorry that they not only didn't help you
but often sabotaged you. I am sorry they tell you that
you are wrong about things you remember and they do not.
I am sorry that your family is not safe, 
or a loving place that it should be.
I am sorry you were short-changed with shallow, 
immature people that were so wrapped up in themselves,
that they had no time, energy, or love to give you. 
I am sorry that you think you are only worth
scraps of affection or time from people that
claim to love you.
Seeing you sitting there in a dark corner
With your knees hugging your chest, 
dust covering you like a second layer of skin, 
cobwebs becoming one with your fingertips. 
Insecurities, broken dreams, and discarded hopes 
wrapped around you like armor. As if you've never seen the light of day. Never kissed the rays of the sun or sang along with the morning breeze. There was no dancing with the spring flowers or watched the leaves play at being chameleons every fall.
Telling yourself, in the light people will judge you.
You'd rather isolate yourself in an icy dark corner where it's safer. 
For you, the light is to be rejected and tormented. 
It's better this way, you said.
Listen carefully, feeling the pain is part of the healing.
Trust the process.
The only person who can save you is yourself. 
This isn't a fairy tale, this isn't a movie. 
Prince Charming will not swoop in and save your dark soul. 
Only you can save yourself.
Stop numbing pain with harmful substances.
Listen to your heart and listen to your gut. 
Do not give the key to your happiness to someone else. 
I know that you are afraid to relive the trauma,
however, the time for healing has come. 
No amount of self-help books, Tony Robbins' speeches,
or ice cream in the world will ever erase the betrayal
of a narcissistic mother. 
Like the common cold of the soul, you just have to accept it. 
Love and appreciate yourself. Continue to live outside your comfort zone, know that your potential is limitless.
You are a strong-willed, stubborn, beautiful, and intelligent woman. Live your life passionately, let it radiate from your soul. Make magic. 
You got this

A beautiful yet chaotic mind

Some years you crawl and you swear you'll never walk again.

Then suddenly you're standing and swear, never, will I crawl again.

A kind heart has held darkness,  a brilliant mind has felt madness,

leaving a beautiful soul in a state of emotional purgatory.

Stroking my aggression, in hopes that I can roll my eyes, and forget that it happened again.

How did we arrive here,  knowing we rushed in. 

Scraped knees and all, I whispered let's crawl.