Thoughts

A few weeks ago I was laying in bed and relaxing before going to sleep and calming my breathing and thought patterns as has become my habit lately. Also something that has become part of my life is thinking of K too much. I try to avoid it as much as possible. I pushed thought of him as far I could. Sometimes thoughts of him would come, but it’s wasn’t so much thoughts of him so much as thoughts from him. And sometimes I figured what’s the harm of enjoying what little of him I had in my life? And I would allow the thoughts from him to hold me while I slept at night or tell me he loved me… things like that. But a few weeks ago, as I was relaxing, and getting rid of my thoughts from the day and releasing unwanted emotions and energy etc, all of a sudden I was just a thought. I wasn’t even in my room or on my bed. Me, in my whole entirety as C, was represented as only a thought. I had no weight of the world holding me down. No previous emotions or situations keeping me here. I was just so in that moment that I was singularly that thought of Me. And I was with the singular thought that represents K. And we talked.

And then to reform my world was a slow scary step by step process. What should I do first? How should I move to ‘rebecome’ C? The room and remembrance of where I was on my bed in Kelowna took place first. And then from there the whole world as it was just sort of fell into place in my memory as I reached slowly for a drink or water. The whole time thinking is this the right move to make? Or should I be recreating this scene differently? Am I fucking up all of my future? Or is this predestined already? Anyways. I laid back on my bed and went to sleep almost immediately, and dreamt of K which at this point is normal.

What was not normal? K called me the next day. After all this time.

Up until now, I could basically play it off like this was all in my head and I’m just a girl who was way to in love with a guy. But when he called the next day and said he was thinking of me the night before… a lot. And that he’d been thinking of me a lot all the time? It was both a relief and a stress.

Now this is real real. Like now I can’t just play it off like this is only in my head. Now he’s obviously connected to me too. I explained what happened to me (kinda, I mean how do you explain this) expecting him to have experienced the same, but was disappointed when he said no, he just heard my name said over and over so loud and clear in his head. I asked him who’s voice it sounded like and he said his own. So either he’s downplayed what happened to him, or he’s not experiencing things as deeply as I am, in which case lucky him because this shit is scary. When the whole universe dissolves enough to bring your being close enough to someone else’s so they hear your name, but then the reality is recreated like no biggie? How else do you describe it other than terrifying?

And how do I move on from here? It’s not like there’s a textbook full of studies on the subject. When you’ve discovered something this mind blowing and new, it’s…. well mind blowing and new. So I’m at a loss.

A loss so big it’s leaving me feeling very alone and helpless. Because I literally feel like there is no one to turn to for support, as this is not something that’s been dealt with before and the person I’m supposedly going through it with, is not even as deep as I am.

On Top Of Spaghetti, All Covered With Cheese. I Lost My Poor Meatball When Somebody Sneezed. It Rolled Off The Table, And Onto The Floor

I’m sure EVERYONE will be thrilled to know I found the spaghetti.

Yesterday I sat down in my living room to read and my coworker sent me a text and just as I reached over for my phone I saw the corner of the container under the other arm chair

A chair both I and Little E looked under multiple times. So I called both the kids in from outside and had them sit in the chair saying I had a question for them. They were so excited thinking it was going to be a fun game. Instead, I asked them both what they thought was underneath the chair, but the weren’t allowed to look. I asked if they thought there was anything special about the chair they were sitting on, and if perhaps it was hiding something. I was trying so hard to get a read off their faces but honestly it was a wash.

They knew nothing. So finally I let them know that the missing green spaghetti container was under them, and they both needed to pick it up and deal with it.

So it was lost and now found, but I still don’t know it’s journey in between the fridge and the chair. If only spaghetti kept blogs.

My Shadow’s The Only One That Walks Beside Me

I went to Wal-Mart last week and found this  for Z’s room (see previous post for reference)

IMG_1291 (Edited)

Yes, I know the hair is covered which kinda defeats the purpose, but my options were limited and it was better than nothing. Next I went to the dollar store intent on buying gold paint to redo her dresser handles and match the painting (which is massive) and ended up calling my mom for advice. This was where I made my mistake. All I needed was advice on if the kind of paint they had there would stick to the metal handles or if I needed to go elsewhere, since I’m not a crafty person I wanted to get it right. That’s it. But nope, as my 31 years should have taught me long ago it’s not that simple with my mom.

I guess I just still feel like no matter who you are/what you’ve done, you should always be able to have a relationship with YOUR OWN MOTHER! At least that’s what I’m trying to teach my children. So anyways, I guess deep down in me, I keep trying. Trying no matter how many times I’ve been hurt by this woman, to keep reaching out. Opening up, and just end up getting slapped in the face.

So I’m in the dollar store and I call her for paint advice. She really doesn’t know but just tells me to get what they have and that it should work and to by some of the cheap brushes they have there too. I have some at home but I just let her say her thing and give her motherly advice even though I say twice I already have brushes. I briefly explain why I’m doing this for Z, and it doesn’t really faze my mom, which bothers my on it’s own, but I know by know not to expect much from her in that area. She’s kind of a you made you bed now sleep in it woman. I go on to give other small updates regarding my life. How I registered Little E for soccer, she asks why didn’t I sign Z up for dance, I explain it doesn’t start until the fall. I talked about how I was looking for a second job, both to keep busy as well as meet new people and bring in extra income. She poo-pooed the place I was interviewing at. I explained how I had just come from the Dr’s that morning and filled my seizure med’s and had also asked for a prescription for anti-depression medications, because I just didn’t think I could make it until spring anymore, and basically rounded out the call with “and that’s what’s new” to which she responded with “Actually C none of that is really new. It’s all very round about and the same old stuff for you”

So I was just like, ok bye. And all I could think about is how my family always complains that I never share things with them. Can they not see that when I do share, I get responses like this? So I sent her the following text. IMG_1286

IMG_1287

And so I find myself here.

On my blog.

At the request of my oh so loving mom. With literally nowhere else to turn. I’ve made no friends here in 8 months. K and I no longer talk and I long for those meaningful conversations with someone who at least pretends to care.

I have nothing. And it’s more difficult than it should be for anyone pretending to live at a level where they have to maintain sanity for the sake of their kids, but when does even that seem stupid and pointless?

And for those wondering, I haven’t spoken to my wonderful mother since, nor do I have any plans to in the foreseeable future. 🤷🏻‍♀️


-Green Day / Boulevard Of Broken Dreams-

I Wish I Could Be Every Little Thing You Wanted All The Time

Last night Z nearly broke my heart.

I was washing her hair, which could be considered a full time job, although we do it on average once a week if I’ve had enough coffee and sleep, when she made the comment that she doesn’t like her hair and wished it was like all her friends hair, which is in her words ‘smooth’.

Z has the most fantastic Afro, which I’ll admit at first I didn’t at first know the first thing about dealing with for obvious reasons, the main being I never had hair like that so why bother learning right? But over the years as her hair grew I realized it was getting more curly and thick and I would need more insight on how to care for her crowning glory to do it full justice, I started researching what the better quality products would be to use. I learned all about a wash n go and wet plopping and deep conditioning which to be honest were all very helpful for my hair as well since I also have curly hair, although not to the extent of Z’s 3c/4a curls. I learned not to use drug store brands that contain sulphates and other harmful chemicals that will further dry her hair out. I learned how to trim her hair myself to maintain it and get rid of dry, split ends on my own without spending a fortune on a hairdresser. I will admit though that I still cannot plait her hair, but I have learned twist outs and how to lay her edges so I’ll just take that as a win for now. One step at a time. 🤷🏻‍♀️

But when she was upset last night because her hair wasn’t ‘smooth’ like all her friends at school my heart fell into my gut. I can only be so much of a roll model for her in this area. I wear my hair as big, full and curly as possible, because I honestly feel the bigger the better, and I truly think natural hair is better. I’ve straightened my hair maybe once a year since finding out all this information about hair for Z. Little E wears his hair pretty close cut because he just has no interest in keeping a style and prefers it practically shaved, and even when he does grow it out, it’s not as curly as Z’s, it’s more of a thick bigger curl. Her dad maintains a bald head although they don’t see him often (as my regular readers know 3 visits when we went back at Christmas and before that it was February last year). So I guess my point with all these “examples ” is that she has no natural hair role models as far as her hair texture. I’ve shown her on places like instagram woman with beautiful hair like hers and how they wear it even bigger than hers. For reference, her fro averages between 6-10 inches but I don’t fluff it out on the bigger side often. She prefers to style it pushed back with a headband or with a few clips or two pigtail afropuffs. Which is for the best because those are the only ones I can pull off half decently.

Anyways this is a very roundabout way of saying I hurt for her. I want her to be proud of every part of her, but this is a way I can’t directly be a role model for her. Yes, I can wear my hair naturally and I do, but her hair is distinctively different, not only from mine, but from the streets of Kelowna and even where we were before and heck even in a Kenya because of the mix, and others notice. I think it’s fantastic and beautiful and many others do as well. We constantly receive compliments while out about how nice her hair is of which I reminded her last night. I told her that her hair is original and beautiful and she should never want to change who or how she is. I was detangling it and showed her how long it was while wet and stretched out and she was so impressed, since it reaches to her elbows. So after the bath, I did one long braid for her down her back and she was much happier and kept mentioning how long and smooth it looked. Albeit it only lasted about 15 minutes until it was completely dry and shrunk up to her neck but it made her happy in that moment.

I’m just wondering how to move forward from here. I’m WELL aware that my kids should have strong black role models in their life, but if there aren’t any around… I can’t just produce them out of thin air.

My in laws are not an option, her dad is out of the question. The black community in Kelowna is to be honest practically nonexistent (trust me, I’ve looked). But I know that it will be something they need to become the fullest version of themselves they can be.

I guess that’s the most frustrating aspect of this experience. Knowing I can be the best mom I can possibly be. I can make all the healthy lunches and arrange all the play dates and study up on all the hair care and do all the sex talks, to name a few examples, but facts are facts, and facts in my situation is that my kids are half black, there’s no denying that, and I would never want to. And that culture is not something I can provide them, and they desperately need it.

It makes me feel so inadequate.

Knowing no matter what, I’ll never be enough. And I can’t do it on my own.

And what’s worse it that the right people are not offering to help.

***update***

Just stopped at Walmart and saw this ironic and timely display showing Robert Munschs books on display

All had been picked through except the braids book (which Z owns). It’s a book about a girl with hair like Z’s and how she doesn’t like to have it braided since it takes a while and hurts. Etc. But anyways it’s literally just shows how no one in Kelowna has that culture in their life nor is trying to pass it on to future generations here and I’m on my own with my kids. 😑

*Z with morning bed head for reference*


-Dishwalla / Every Little Thing –

Leaving To Find My Soul Told Her I Had To Go And I Know It Ain’t Pretty When Our Hearts Get Broke

The fact that I am alive is proof enough that I am a God.

No one can confirm for sure how the world started.  Not when or how or at what point, which leaves it wide open for interpretation on exactly how or why we got to this place in history or the present place in the universe.

Did we come with a purpose? I believe so. Once being to discover the fact that just being here makes our journey complete. We fundamentally have made it by making ourselves. We came. We saw. We each individually have essentially conquered the obstacles of creation by mutually not only choosing to co-exist but at the same time to create the same reality we all choose to collectively perceive and view as real or life if you will.  That fact, in and of itself makes us all God, or a portion of ‘God’ or a ‘soul’ on the outside, all jointly looking in on this world we have created and living out through human existence.

Many over the course of this dynamic perception have  tried to explain this phenomenon. Some use science to get closer to the answer. Some simply trust in the unknown God/deity they choose to represent the beginning. Other pure and simple refuse to acknowledge that question at all, which leads them not searching for an answer. In fact the large majority of today’s population have been satisfied with just living that they have no desire to wonder how their life came into being in the first place. They have become complacent. The are satisfied with a big bang, or a creation, but when it comes down to it, humans are afraid to dig deeper. Since when you try to truly uncover further into the origins of not only the world, but yourself, it will leave you looking starkly at one thing and one thing only.

No matter which theory you align yourself with, we all started at the same place. All at the same time. When I say ‘we’ I don’t mean on the surface level of the life ‘we’ live as you read this. I dive deep into us as a humanity and a universal perception.

The creation of this reality had to start in A moment. Where we all collectively branched out on our own journeys to create at will. Maybe we went from one to a million in an instant big bang style. Maybe ‘we’ collectively planned our futures and our memories and agreed we would just agreed to have thoughts and memories that extended so far back to create a reality and at the count of three wake up one morning go on our way. Maybe ‘we’ split in two and then four and then eight etc, like a baby in the womb. Maybe, we did all of the above, and agreed to each carry a different version of the conception deep in our thoughts hidden in so many lifetimes. This would help us to never return to the loneliness of being one together, since we knew we would never allow our views to change once spread so vast and becoming so hardened.

But once spread out and functioning as a world as we are now, what if two or more individual humans began to think as one again on such a level that they shared this kind of information? What would it do to the origins of the entire perception of the world? It could destroy it. It could destroy the original ‘creation’ that came from thinking independently. The separation and joy and individuality that came from the creation, that allowance to have different thought processes and different opinions that would have never occurred had we all remained as one, would be wiped out. We would return to that being of oneness.

So the fact that from the source and the beginning there are differences should bring the most joy as well as enlightenment. Joy to know the source of this world had knowledge to discover it must become different in order to expand and create eventual life. And enlightenment to acknowledge that you are a byproduct of that source.

This empowering knowledge lends to the discovery that along the way our thoughts at one point in the past were connected. Before we became so focused on the perception of this tangible reality, we were all connected and intermingled not as humans, but as souls, or thoughts. So if we did it before, lived as one in a bodyless haven, why should we limit ourselves to the possibility of creating this reality or perception we see every day, and focus instead on uncreating or returning to that for our souls.

I’m not suggesting it will happen overnight, as many indiscretions have been made against each other or each soul or thought process throughout this creation process since our infinite decision long ago to part ways. It will take many conscious repairs to mend bonds that were broken along the way, but can be made easier with the knowledge that we are all the source and the beginning, and therefore we all originally had intentions of creating a reality. Did we know exactly how it would turn out? No because we gave each other the freedom to create and be individuals. But with the brokenness, we may not feel like it on the surface, but our souls are longing for healing.

We are all longing to come back home to ourselves as one. Where we all began.

 

-Macklemore / These Days-

 

Show Me The Meaning Of Being Lonely Is This The Feeling I Need To Walk With?

So I’ve been living here in Kelowna for 7 months. Plenty of time to get nice and settled and make  massive amounts of new friends and join plenty of clubs, classes,  activities what have you.

As much as I feel at home in my house, and actually enjoy the town as a whole, basically because of the views, I’m not really thrilled with the choice I made to move, since it’s been leading me to some weird… stuff.

It’s a catch 22 at the moment. My kids are overall so much happier, and because of that, I am confident that I made the right decision in relocating. Their school is superb and they have made good friends. The daycare is crap, but there really aren’t too many other options for someone in my position to change that right now so it will have to do. I find the school incorporates so many more activities into the children’s day which is something I just don’t have the energy to do. They’ve had people in to teach them about inline skating, parkour, indigenous people, petting zoo tours, gone ice skating, hiking in the mountains, tobogganing, and have swimming planned for the upcoming weeks. That’s for both Little E and Z’s classes, getting to do all those things within the last few months of school. I feel like it helps lift the burden off of me feeling like I need to get out often with the kids to give them those experiences when they are having them at school and enjoying them with friends.

My family here in town has been good too. We’ve gotten together a few times for dinner or going out for walks and visits. My uncle even took the kids for supper last Saturday then to an arcade just to give me a break for a few hours.

It was weird. I didn’t know what to do with myself while they were gone since to be honest normally I would go to sleep but I had to stay up wait for them to get dropped off back home. So of course all I could do was think about how lame my life had become when it’s completely obsessed with taking care of my children. So here I am. Home alone at night for the first time since we moved here 7 months ago, and I had nothing to do. It was pathetic.

I had no friends to call.

No hobbies to turn to.

Nothing off the top of my head that would be fun for me to do.

So I made myself supper and then spent close to an hour trying to find something to watch on prime video since I had recently cancelled Netflix to save money. Then once I finally decided on a show, ended up just scrolling through Instagram while the show played until the kids came home around 9.

It was the most pathetic night off ever. Don’t worry you can judge me, I know it was bad.

And all the thoughts I was trying to avoid all night was how lame and lazy it was. How lame I was. How I’d been living here 7 months and hadn’t made any friends that I could call and chat with. How I’d been here this long and I am still so alone. Which of course moved into how I should stop having conversations with myself because I refuse to think I’m crazy. Since my kids already have one parent with mental health issues, they don’t need a second locked up in the psych ward. So keep it together C. Don’t become like E.

But to be honest…

How does a person know if they are not crazy? (This is where my alone thoughts take me lately… this and where did the universe start, which isn’t any more helpful) Sure I function in my day-to-day life perfectly fine. I get my kids up and out the door to school on time. I perform all my duties at work without any issue. I’m 100% aware of what’s going on around me…. I think. But that’s the issue. What if I’m missing out on something, and I’m not aware of it. How would I know?

I think about that a lot. Do people with mental health issues know they have them? Or to put it simply and very politically incorrectly, do crazy people know they are crazy?

Especially someone in my position. I don’t have any friends to talk to, or to tell me I”m acting differently lately, so how would I know?

Because to be frank, I feel crazy sometimes. I feel like there is stuff going on in my mind that I cannot stop or understand or explain, and that I did not put there. But how do I know if that’s normal or not normal? How can I explain if this is how it’s supposed to be, and something everyone is probably experiencing, or if I’m the one-off? Because some of the thoughts are so far out there, it’s not something you can bring up in casual conversation with someone new you meet at the coffee shop (not that that ever happens anyways). But I want to have deep conversation about deep things that I have going through my mind and thoughts, but to be honest, I’m worried and scared that if I shared them with your average joe, they’d give me the side eye and maybe call me in to have a welfare check done on my kids. I’d never harm my kids. Trust me. I’m doing everything I can to be the best mother I can. But it’s something deeper and more powerful than that that I’m trying to overcome and I don’t know how. I don’t think anyone knows how. SO who is there to talk to if it’s an issue no one has dealt with before?

Yes it’s most likely all the spare time that is leading me to this pattern of thought, but is it  good or bad? Am I discovering something that’s never been discovered before? Or am I going crazy and I just have no one around to tell me.

I guess no one will know. Since its indescribable. And if I can’t describe my problem, no one can understand it, let alone solve it. Not even me.

You see my problem.

Definitely too much alone time to come up with this problem in the first place.

But it makes you think.


-Backstreet Boys / Show Me The Meaning Of Being Lonely-

It’s The End Of The World As We Know It, And I Feel Fine

When you sit back and think about it, we all had to come from somewhere. Someone somehow we are all connected. I know it’s not a thought we all consider on the daily, but logically, this earth didn’t just appear yesterday functioning at this level of consciousness and efficiency that we are at today. Which leads me to wonder, when did it start, and from where, which leads to the only logical consideration that no matter what you believe as far as a creation standpoint, it will start at some point. Lending to the argument that we all, weather we like it or not, weather we want it or not, we all started at the same point. Not us in our physical bodies as we stand today, but as the very least the creation of either our thought or our soul or whatever you may call it.

So, if we were all “created” or “started” at the same “time” or within the same breathe or choose the same moment to begin, or whatever you believe or whichever path your thoughts took long ago, it really makes no difference what journey your thoughts took, what matters is that in this moment, we are here together, and we, logically thinking and speaking, all began in the exact same moment.

Have we had the exact same experiences since that time? Of course not. This journey is just that. A journey. With each of us individually afforded our own choices and decision making skills. Throughout the infinite history, it has brought our bodies to this point in time, where we can acknowledge the grandeur of our past and move on, or rest in our souls accomplishments thus far. Has your body completed what it wanted to when it first set out? Were you part of the decision making process to decide grass was green or the earth would rotate a certain direction or maybe your thoughts took the journey to decide the sun would burn hot instead of freeze cold.

And now we’re here. What are your thoughts actively partaking in? Are you thinking universal as you might have once done? Or have you narrowed your mind to just think simply of your bodies day to day activity?

They say ” God” is the body, the thought and the mind…. a do your u hear what I hear type thing. So when you lay in bed at night, have you closed your thoughts down to hear only “you” over the years, decades, even possible lifetimes you have lived? Or do you put your body to rest, and then just breathe. And relax your own thinking to slow down and hear the thoughts of others. Or on the other hand, are the thoughts you project into the world hindering the progression of what weave made thus far? Or contributing?

Or, the most fearsome consideration yet, have we all become so worn down by what we’ve created, that we’ve given up and we are all ready to go back to our original form. A much simpler, more loving, even God like form. Once we reconcile our lives and our souls can rest, we make that choice to. Instead of coming back to this projected perceived world, we make our final choice to rest our soul for good. We remove our thoughts and we, as an individual are no more. No more thought. No more chances. Just done.

Chosen one person at a time, will leave this world with many broken souls who didn’t know they had the chance to choose. Not somewhere I’d like to be, but once my soul is done, not something I will have knowledge of either way..


-R.E.M/ Its The End Of The World As We Know It-

Take Control Of Your Mind And Just Meditate And Let Your Soul Just Gravitate To The Love

I’ve come to the conclusion in my life for now, that every time I’ve attempted to produce love, in any kind, it ends in a more broken version of myself.

Maybe, and most likely this is because the men I’ve been showing my version of love to have not been in a receptive state in their lives to be able to receive my emotion and energy, transform it into anything of value on their end and return it to me. Therefore all I’ve been continually doing is outpouring on an ongoing basis, but not getting anything in back.

This self-destructive behavior has left me depleted and more empty than ever. I’ve come to the point were not only do I feel I have very little left to give, but my quality of love is somehow not enough, because in the past it was either maybe rejected, not returned, ignored, stomped upon, laughed at, passed by, or outright told was not good enough in one way or another. So after all my attempts, some being my best work given to the wrong people, some being a half asse attempt thrown out just to see what would happen, I’ve come to a place where I’m so broken that there isn’t enough strength left to put together a decent first move to try any form any relationship of any kind.

So at this point, I’m no longer prepared to put that energy out to anyone anymore because it only produces heartbreak and sorrow. It leads me to wonder can an individual heal themselves after pain that has surmounted in this way after so many years? Or must it come from another. If all my emotion and energy and love was given out to an other person, (not all, but this one chunk) and I was left with hopes of that emotion being given back, yet that hope went unreturned, can I ever be fulfilled from within?

For example I’m a bucket that starts with my hopes and desires and dreams and love at 100% full inside it ok? And I go and give 5% here in love to one person and 5% there to another and a 20% investment to another person, but only receive half back from those people at best, I’ve given 30% and received back 15% leaving me at 85% capacity for love and hope etc. How now, if I have given my best for years and years and only received a lackluster return on my investment and I’m standing at like 30%, how am I supposed to go into any relationship with a positive attitude or an open mind thinking it would ever survive?

It can’t.

For starters, I cannot create love and hopes and dreams from nothing in my mostly empty bucket. I also cannot be the first to initiate anything knowing I’m not in a giving state. I’m broken. Very broken. As I think most of our society is. So that leads me to question, where has all the love and peace and hope actually gone, if we are all walking around with empty buckets?

Can we just think it back into existence? Do we just choose to believe and that somehow sucks it back into our lives? Or are we then somehow unconsciously stealing from someone else’s bucket when they are not standing guard? Did we lose our chance when we didn’t plan it out from the start and thought we’d have an unlimited supply of joy? Because I can tell you right now, it’s like after you reach the 50% mark with no one pouring into you, it’s like someone pokes a hole in the bottom of your bucket and it seems there’s no coming back from that.

Right now, I’m just doing the very best I can to maintain status quo and not reach 0%. But it would be more than I can even put into words if someone would just choose to pour into me. Maybe they found the unlimited tap on love, maybe they have someone pouring into them, maybe they just have the link to hope, but for me, I’m keeping my love on lock for now. I can’t risk loosing anymore.


-Where Is The Love /Black Eyed Peas-

My Cousins Are Crazy / When I Started Out I Just Took What They Gave Me / When You Livin Like This You Supposed To Hate

Caller #3.

Last night I got a call from the prison again. Which I thought (again) was weird when I saw the number show up on my phone. For so many reasons I’m sure you could guess, but the main one being that T (the guy who wrote the phone number wrong last week, for his friend to call) got out on Monday which I found out when he called to tell me he got out early, so I had no connection at this point with anyone in the joint.

No, I really don’t care that much about T, but again I was being nice. He called me from a blocked number, which I’ve learned is pretty standard prison issue (and therefore couldn’t call back to bitch about after the below happened) The call was cut short, because he was headed to visit his family… still not sure why he called me before his family, but guys will be guys. So anyways, T is out, so who could possibly be calling me now?

Well I accept the call, and get a shady af explanation.

Hello?

Hi… You don’t know me but my name is Caller #3 and I got your number from G and my cousin and he said your good peoples (ugh, prison grammer), and so I know this is weird but I was wondering if maybe you could help me.

WHAT? G as in K/G? There is no fucking way he gave you my number to call.

So Caller #3 continues:

I just got off the phone with my cousin M who said you helped out a friend and you might help me out.

Now I’m so confused. I’ve never heard of this cousin of his, so I’m trying to understand how in the world he could vouch for me, saying I’m a good person to talk to, while at the same time beyond embarrassed by even the remote possibility that K knows about last weeks call. So I’m GRILLING Caller #3 to try to find out as many details as I can, and basically all he’s saying is that he just got off the phone with his cousin two seconds ago (Who again I have NO CLUE who he is, even after he goes into detail about who his cousin is dating and what he looks like etc, it all just confuses me more) and all Caller #3 is saying is that his cousin gave him my number to call.

How in the world did his cousin M give Caller #3 my number if I don’t even know who M is? How many guys have my number and are saying I’m a good person to talk to? Then Caller #3 confirms that yes, for sure K/G knows about last week, but he wouldn’t expand on it. So now I’m just like who the fuck is spilling the beans after I specifically asked them to keep their big ass mouths shut? Like I thought this was prison culture. Don’t say anything more than necessary/zip your lip. This? This was never necessary to speak on. Caller #3 kinda gave the vibe off that the whole situation from last week made its way around the block and my phone number is a valuable commodity in the prison now.

So there’s that.

Anyways, once I get over my initial frustration of someone leaking my info, I remember that there’s a guy on the phone who’s calling to ask for help.

So then I asked him what he was in for, and he’s like oh you’re just gonna jump right in like that hey? So I get straight to it. I basically tell him the reason I’m a good person to talk to is because I’ll keep it real and I expect the same in return, and no matter what, I’ll do my best not to judge, offer an opinion? Yes, but I’ll try not to judge. So if I ask a question, just answer. Honestly. I’ll give my heartfelt true advice, which doesn’t mean I’m right obviously, but I’m not going to beat around the bush either. So he said that’s cool, and then proceeds to inform me that he’s two years into a 12 year sentence for Manslaughter.

Well now.

To be honest, there was a slight lump in my throat, but I managed to keep it together, as he told me his quick version of the events, and then we moved on. People are people and they either make mistakes, or they make decisions. Being drunk or sober, you chose to get to that state and now here you are. Having taken someones life.But at the same time I was pissed. Who thinks it’s ok to be giving my phone number out around the PRISON! To people who have been found guilty of killing people? This is putting myself and my kids at potential risk! So I made a huge mental note about who much to reveal of myself, and figured he’s already gotten my phone number now so I might as well help out anyway I can. If I can be a friend for one person, and make that one small change in his life, maybe I’ve done a little good in the world for today.

Either way, this guy too had an issue about how his girlfriend had dumped him.

Guys. In my opinion, if your life path leads you to prison, and the girl you were with was only your girlfriend, I think it’s completely within her right to break up with you. If you were really interested in that relationship, you would’ve focused on it more BEFORE you made the decisions that lead you to be locked up. If she chooses to stay with you through your stint, than create what beauty you can outta that and remember what a solid girl you have. But if your choices led you to prison, then her choices can also lead her wherever she chooses after that. At this point she’s not your wife, you didn’t make that move to solidify your relationship and so she has not made any vow to you in any capacity to stick by you in thick or thin etc. So if she chooses to respectfully break up and move on to someone who can fulfill her life and make her happy in the ways she want to live her life, you cannot stop her. Continued phone calls etc, are probably not a good idea either. Sure a letter here or there for her birthday to maintain a friendship would be nice unless she explicedly requests for you not to, but she has chosen for you to not be her man. You have to accept that. Just like she had to accept that you made a choice to do something illegal knowing that the chance was there to potentially take you away from her for a long time to maybe forever, yet you chose that over her regardless. How was she supposed to feel?

Grand gestures to “Win her back” are probably not worth it. She’s moved on. She’s allowed to make her choices, just as you made yours. Save your big moves for a new girl who you can form a new solid relationship with from the start. And this time, choose her always. ALWAYS chose the girl over the stupidity that could take you away from the girl. Then neither of you will be stuck in a situation where this kind of decision has to be made.

Anyways, that’s just my opinion.

In the mean time, I’m not sure how I feel knowing I’m slowly becoming the prison therapist.

Unless there’s a salary connected to it?


-Drake & Lil Baby / Yes Indeed-

 

We Don’t Say How We Feel And I Feel Like This Is What Got Us In The Debacle We’re In

I remember Kindergarten.

Correction. I remember exactly one lunch recess where I was playing tag and pushed a boy off some wooden play structure. He ended up breaking his arm… my bad. But I distinctly remember when my red curly-haired teacher who was on supervision carried him from the playground to the office and it was in that moment I thought she was the strongest person I knew and I decided I wanted to be a teacher when I grew up. I was in awe that someone carried a kid my age, because I obviously didn’t get held much at home anymore, but also that a relative stranger would so easily embrace someone else’s child. I never thought it was possible, yet I thought it was so beautiful.

Things have changed by now. Oh I went after high school and started University to get my teaching degree. But I sucked at it. Actually I just no longer cared. I skipped 60% of my classes and didn’t turn in a single assignment. I was put on academic probation my first year (which I told my mom was due to my seizures, actually she pretty much thought that up all on her own and I just went with it). Part of that was maybe true, but more honestly, I just wasn’t feeling it. I was only doing it because I felt it was “the right thing” Not the right thing as in it felt right, but the right thing as in I’d been telling everyone I wanted to be a teacher ever since I was like 6 years old so I’d only be lying to myself if I changed it after so long.

But is it fair to decide what you want to do for the rest of your life when you’re a child? And then to be held to that standard because “Oh you’d be such a good teacher” and “well you’ve always wanted to be a teacher” were phrases you’d been hearing for the better part of a dozen years? Only to realize 3/4 of the way through my degree, that I would be a terrible teacher.

I would be fine if it actually came down to it, I mean I could do anything, let’s be honest. But I just really, really, really didn’t want to do it anymore. So here I was 3 years out of a 4 year degree under my belt, that had taken me about 6 years to get this far, between saving for school and marriage and travel etc, and I decided I was done trying.

Probably for the best.

All those little kids are better off with all those kind, caring, thoughtful teachers anyways.

So I quit. It may have seemed like marriage was the issue. Or becoming a mom was the reason. And it was a major reason. A major excuse in the very least. Once I had my own kids I became more honest with myself in that I really didn’t want to teach other kids all day and then come home and still have more left of me to give to my own kids. I think I was looking for a reason to quit and my kids and my life situation in leaving E gave me that. It gave me a reason to start fresh.

It gave me a chance to start school again. And find a career that makes good money yeah, but I’m still not feeling fulfilled.

It’s hard to take risks when I have two little kids depending on me. Not that I know what risk I would take if I could, but I’m just saying I kinda feel like I’m in the same rut I was in after high school. I’m just doing what I’m doing because it was what was “best” for me. It seemed “smartest”. It seemed like the “right” move. But I don’t know if I’m being authentically C.

I don’t feel happy.

I feel like this life was chosen for me when I was a child and I’m just going along with the flow. But I don’t want to anymore.

If I was more honest. More true to me, I would say I want to travel. I want to write. Books. Music for others. I want to remain nameless. I never want to be famous. I want to be happy. I don’t want to work under anyone, but I want to have freedom in my expression. But I’m scared. Because those steps don’t seem easy. The steps to be that person haven’t been planned out since I was a kid so I don’t know how to start it now. It doesn’t seem like “the Plan”

So I’m nervous and scared.

Lazy and very unsure of what to do to become the person I think is the true C.

Because I’ve never been her before. So what if I fail?

What if the steps I take are wrong and instead of becoming a more successful version of me, I fail and therefore I’m further back than I am now? I’m not that person. I don’t take those risks. I’m the type of person who follows plans I made when I was 6…. just because plans are plans, and I don’t know how to deviate from that.

What if I make new plans and become even more unlovable than I am now?

That’s my greatest fear.

To make new plans that fuck up my life even more than it already is. Because I’m barely holding on as is.


Eminem/Stepping Stone