Magic Wands

 Well Hello There,

Ugh. 4 hours of sleep man. And to top it off, I was about 10 minutes away from work and I felt movement happening. No cramping, I don’t often get outright attacks anymore and I knew I could make it to work ok, but how uncomfortable having that feeling. 

All I could think of was Mike Meyers as Fat Bastard saying, “I’ve got a turtle head poking out.”

You have to say it in an Scottish accent though.

Seriously, my brain fixates on weird shit all the time. I think it’s because life, in reality, is quite boring.

So you can say how unladylike, but by all the Gods, it was a doozy. I bet I dropped 10 lbs after birthing that thing. It had a life of it’s own. But better a log, then die-la-rhea, as my sis calls it.

Die-la-rhea no bueno.

You know what? I really didn’t do shit yesterday. I guess that’s what I needed.

This sleep shit though. I did not take an edible or the medication. I know, I know. I am so back and forth on this shit but honestly, I do listen to my body. And that stuff, oh my God, it makes my mornings foggy. Me no like.

Me no like at all.

But also, the last two nights, my daughter has been feeling better and she has reconnected with a young man she knew a couple years back. I haven’t met him but she’s been out with him the last two nights.

I can’t help it. I worry. I’m one of those pyschos who knows everything serial killer. Once again, since I brought that up, I must also put up a disclaimer. I do not get off on what these people do, it’s the horror and the why of it.

I promise, no triggers or specifics here, that I won’t go into detail. There is a case from 2007 that I’ve followed. It’s horrific. There were 5 offenders involved against 2 victims. Each of these offenders was tried individually. But it’s been this constant nightmare for the parents, as if what happened to their children wasn’t bad enough. First, the judge in the case? Turns out he was an opiate addict so all of his cases had to be retried. So the parents had to relive that. Then, one of them appealed and she got her sentence reduced from 53 years to 35. She’s already had her first parole hearing and she was denied. Then, they got one of the perps to turn on one of the others, he had just gotten 18 years for carjacking and for hiding one of the other perps. Well one of them turned on him…finally, and told the truth about his part. So he went from 18 years to life without parole.

One of the perps received the death sentence  and that was upheld both in the retrial and all his appeals have been denied. 

Fry that fucker already.

The father of the female victim in this crime, he’s tenacious. I would NOT want to go up against him. 

But he’s had this whole journey, turned his back on God and now found God again but he still struggles. He really does. And if you knew the details, you would get it.

But here’s the thing. I used to be able to read this stuff and yeah, it was horrible but I maintained a sortof detachment from it. 

Somewhere in all of the changes and things I’ve made, I can no longer remain detached. I went down the rabbit hole of getting caught up in this story again.

And I fucked myself completely. I think a lot of the crying I’ve been doing lately has much to do with my travels back to this story.

And so, even though I know we must let our grown kids do what they are going to do, I worry. I have this story vivid in my mind and she goes out two nights in a row with someone I don’t know, have never met. I’m sure he’s a good kid.

But a mother worries. So there was little to no sleep until she was home safely.

I have not spoken to one single person whose not going through something lately. I guess we all are.

I need to let these stories, this bizarre fascination with these horrors, go. I know a lot of people who share this particular…bizarreness.

I think because there’s so much fear being spewn right now, I have to put a face to it. I have to be able to see the boogeyman, know what he looks like and how to avoid him.

Some would argue if I want to see the boogeyman, I could just start scrolling through my facebook again; there’s a couple boogeymen there. One is an orange motherfucker and one impregnates women like it’s going out of style tomorrow and then abandons them. One wears eyeliner and one…I don’t even know what that fucker looks like but he’s got 2025 tattooed across his forehead.

Fuckers.

So yeah…whatever.

You know, when I put my notice in at my former job, one of my coworkers asked me if I was going to actually work for the last two weeks or if I was gonna be “checked out.” Turns out, I checked out. 

I’m going to be a bit checked out here. I have to find a job and I’m worthless, 100% worthless at night.

I meant to bring my own laptop here but it’s OK. I’m going to do the same thing I do here for this blog which is to write it on Word and then copy and paste it to my personal email, which I literally only log in to for about 5 seconds, send it to myself and then I delete the original document without saving it on this computer.

My long blogs, some would probably think I was writing for hours. I can whip out this motherfucker in under 15 minutes if I don’t have any interruptions.

I surpassed my hits goal for the month and we still have 3 full days to go until February is over.

I for one am so glad February is almost done. It’s been a motherfucking motherfucker fuck. And I am tired.

But I had another dream about Momma and she came with a message again. 

This is stuff that you read about, you don’t believe it until it happens to you but I saw again, that I’m going to be OK. She wore yellow in the dream. If it’s a good dream, yellow denotes luck, hope, prosperity, creativity and success…it denotes a new journey. And she had her keys in the dream, she was gonna go for a drive. Keys signify journeys as well.

I love her.

I waited for almost a year for her to show up in my dreams. Dad showed up right away so I was sad about not seeing her. But when she finally came, she came in a big way.

I just…yes, I love her. I feel her all around me. And Dad too.

I very rarely, in fact I’m not sure if I ever have, seen my bio dad. I don’t hate him. I just…he was the first one to break my heart. He was the first in a long line of many. He set that standard, ya know? He set the bar for abandonment.

I loved him when he was here, I did not wish him any ill will. I was devastated by his departure but…now, while I don’t hate him, I guess what I struggle with is ambivalence.

He didn’t ruin love for me. Love is something…for many years I couldn’t handle. Love meant abandonment. You can only be hurt when you make yourself vulnerable, when you dare to let someone in your heart. For me, it was killing me not to really let anyone in. I always got caught up in why they weren’t perfect or what their defects of character were.

I love love now. 

I let it in and I let myself love others. Like real love, like letting them be who they are, like meeting them where they are at, like having no expectations of them, like loving them without condition.

It’s terrifying but it’s getting less so and I love love so much more than the cloak of fear I put around myself for so long…not really letting anyone in and expecting everyone to always fail me. 

A lot of this is normal with borderline personality. We tend to put people up on pedestals and then when they show themselves to be human, and come crashing down, we blame them.

It’s all a cycle and one I’ve let go of. I’ve had experience with that even in this short contracting position I’ve been in. But I saw it immediately this time. 

And I did not engage.

I just want to be happy. I do know it’s a choice and I think often about happiness being a choice but I also refer back to the AA slogan, simple not easy. Simple: Make the choice to be fucking happy already. Not easy: Being happy and staying that way.

And now, what’s changed so very much is that I just want the people I love to be happy. Each of my kids have their own struggles, each of my family members have their own struggles and each of my friends have them too.

Momma: This life is hard.

But I have to remember that when she said that, she had been taken off her meds without anyone telling us and her tummy was so bad and she wasn’t eating and she wasn’t herself enough to know to tell us. 

She was going through it.

But yeah, I just want to be happy and I want the people I love to be happy. I wish I could wave a magic wand, take back the color orange because I love the color orange. Maybe orange will be my new color. I look damn good in it. Use it for the good. With a magic wand, I would heal everything and everyone.

Magic Wands.

I have one. But it was purchased for me. I need to make my own. Half of what makes magic work is belief.

I do believe. I do believe.

Well I guess I better actually work. Just got off the phone with my daughter while she was driving into work.

I’m over this job but I still have to do this job.

The next 6.5 hours spread out before me like eternity but I got this.

I hope you all have a great day.

Be Blessed.

Love & Light,

Neecie