Rant over

Hiya
I’m back.
Did you miss me?
I feel all re-inspired and rested and have a lot I want to talk about, but thats not what I’m going to talk about. I’m going to go on a lil’ rant just for your reading pleasure. Well, if I’m being entirely honest its for a selfish reason, as I just feel like going on a rant. So get. Ready.

ALRIGHT, ready, set.

Looking back, I showed signs of being emotionally abused, and dealing with trauma like right fucking early. (Yeah, its going to be one of those posts) How none of the teachers, or people in my life noticed is a lil’ beyond me, but that is not my point here. My point is that because all this was happening I was different. I was different than my peers in my reactions, my sensitivity, my ability to be assertive, to speak, to be myself. The world is not always kind to those who are fighting through all of that. Whether you have good intentions or not, sometimes (often) people judge. They judge an overreaction as ‘too much work’ or ‘clingy’, or us being silent as us being ‘quiet/introverted’. If you look at my life like a movie ( UM JUST a side note, if my life were a movie Regina Spektor would play me thank you VERY much) look past this one incident, look past this still frame and look at the whole plot. You start to see that I’m reacting like this because this is how I’ve been taught. Some of my mannerisms were learned because thats what I had to do to survive. I’m quiet because I was never allowed to speak, and I learned that it was safer to be quiet, not be noticed or seen. I can react strongly sometimes because 20 plus years of being told that people don’t really care about me, they’re using me, that I’m useless, not worth listening to, not good enough not only doesn’t disappear quickly, it also doesn’t discriminate against potetial threats. So be fucking patient will ya? Don’t judge someone because they were having a hard time with something, ESPECIALLY if that something was say prompted by you cancelling plans, or saying a phrase you thought would be teasing but it really actually hit a nerve and triggered someone. Not everyone reacts differently and you never know what people have lived through and fought through with every single fibre of their being and strength, so yeah maybe this paticular thing makes them cry, but so what? How the hell are they supposed to learn what a healthy relationship (not necessarily romantic) is if no one sticks around to show them. Yes, I know as I’m saying this that it also takes a lot of personal strength for the person to be introspective but I’m saying this as if they’re doing their best to heal and change.

And ANOTHER thing. Don’t ghost people. Thats it for this one, just don’t be a coward and ghost someone you’ve been friends with or dating. Its cowardly.

Alright back to my main point.
My whole life has been spent hiding parts of myself and making myself small because I had to, I had to survive somehow. I turned off my goofy self, or turned it’s volume down, I became silent because it was safer. I would come home from hanging out with my BFF and my grandmother would talk to me for min. An hour about how that friend was using me, whether because I was bigger than them, and they were ‘keeping me around to feel good to feel better about themselves’, or just really didn’t care. That happened for god knows how many years. At least 10. SO YEAH I have a hard time believing that its possible for people to actually care. Yeah, I get scared when there are ‘signs’ of people leaving, or those things I was told meant I wasn’t cared for. BUT WHO THE FUCK WOULDN’T? For a very long time I have let people take advantage of me, given them too many chances, let guys tell me/convincing me to let them get away with certain things, or give them more leeway than they deserved. I was often the one told ‘I’m not the type of girl they’d date, but I’m the type they’d marry’, or decide to just fuck off after using me to get over their ex. Well, I’m kind of done letting people tell me what I do and do not deserve.

I’m telling YOU how it is now. Get. Ready.

(Or at the very least I’m going to try very hard. )

Okay, thats all for now.
Rant over.
I’m not even going to proof read this.
BAM

(This is where I’d drop the mic)

If you’d like to support me in a more financial (that means money)(i’m sassy/silly atm) there should be a ‘buy me a coffee’ button kicking around somewhere, it would mean a ton to me if you could donate. Or share this with a friend or two.

Angry

Its been a bit. I’m sorry. I promise you I will come back. I just want to make sure when I post its coming from an authentic place, so I try not to push it if I feel like what I write doesn’t fit that. I’ve been processing shit, and avoiding shit. You know the deal. Grab yourself some tea, or a drink, and get ready, cuz I’m getting a wee bit salty here.

I have been sad for 8 months. Very sad, (I mean lets be honest, I’ve been sad most of my life) but this sad was different, it is deeper and more intense than I’d felt in a long time. It was a grief that sprouted not from death, but the ending of a relationship that, by all accounts, was meant to last your whole life. They’re meant to be some of the more unconditional, supportive, loving relationships, and realizing that that wasn’t true for me has been really hard. Losing part of my family not out of death, but out of choice was hard, but there was no other choice to make. Id reached a point where I had to two choices: staying in an emotionally abusive situation that was holding me back, breaking me down and destroying any sense of safety and comfort I ever found; or stand up and say that I’ve had enough, I’m worth more than this, I am enough already, I shouldn’t be made to feel so awful by those I hold close to me.
Needless to say, I felt awful. I felt empty, sad, betrayed. I did first talk about it on here, and yeah that was probably a shady move, but honestly I had no other choice. If I had talked to them in person I’d have had no support, and they would have gaslighted me, being rude, not listened, told me I was being dramatic. They would have been pissed off regardless of how I did it. I don’t feel guilty, I feel grateful that all you lovely folks were here for me, listened and reassured me that I have a right to use my voice and stand up for myself. I asked for space for a while, thinking that maybe it would last 3 months. You know, give me time to heal a bit, feel more solid in myself, my ability to be assertive and stand up for myself. The only way I felt safe to take the next step was a therapy setting, with a third party, that was neutral so that all parties could feel heard. It wasn’t safe, emotionally speaking, for me to be one on one with them. Especially since they’d made it clear they’d all discussed it, deleted me off social media at the same time. My space wasn’t respected, or taken seriously, and I was talked to like I was throwing a hissy fit, and that I’d made the whole thing up. (Spoilers, I didn’t) Going to therapy wasn’t something they were okay with, and every attempt at speaking I was met with clear signs that an open conversation wasn’t going to happen, an apology wasn’t going to be heard from them. I got the idea that they’d take me back, essentially if I crawled back with an apology or was willing to pretend none of it other happened, and not be heard. It destroyed me that they didn’t seem to care about my wellbeing, that none of them had my back, apologized for how I felt, or showed any signs of concern. I spent a lot of time feeling really fucking sad. I still am. But you know what else I feel? Fucking angry.
I’m angry that I was never a priority, I am angry because they emotionally abused me, changed the way I thought about myself, made me feel small, made me feel like I had to apologize for existing, made me feel crazy, fat, ugly, selfish. I am mad because they didn’t fight for me. That they chose sticking to their own ego over having a relationship with me. That rather than for one second think about me, or be concerned, make up, apologize, they chose to see me as a crazy, manipulative and selfish who would make up this kind of horrible story. The fact that they think I’m that kind of person is insulting. But I’m most mad that it happened in the first place. I’m mad that I let myself feel small, held myself back, that I let myself get talked to and treated like that for so long. I am so fucking angry that they could make a child feel like they were the cause of the adults around them feeling sad. That if only I’d been a better daughter life would be better. I’m angry that I went through hell as a kid, and was alone to deal with it, and as a biproduct of that have BPD, depression and mental health issues. I am fucking angry that after everyone I’ve lost, all the death, the funerals, the shit I’ve come through, I lost them too.
I am angry, which for a long time I didn’t really ever let myself be. I always was scared of anger because of how I’d seen it used as a weapon by so many around me. But do you know what I’m learning? That anger is a tool, its powerful enough to motivate change, to stand up for what you believe in, or for those who can’t stand up for themselves. Anger can be used constructively, creatively, compassionately rather than destructively. There is nothing wrong with feeling anger. In fact, its one of the stages of greif, which I’ve done all in the wrong order. Something has been holding me back from continueing to grow and letting myself feel angry has helped. I have been more creative lately with other things. I’ve written about three songs about this, I’ve started drawing again, and go through phases of lots of exersize, and barely any, but I am learning to listen to my body. I get up every day and face truths and realities that I for so long avoided, but I am letting that help me grow, do the scary painful thing so that I can learn from it.

There’s much more to say, but I’ll save some for next time ūüėČ

Thanks for listening. You’re all awesome.
Lots of love, over and out.
BB.

Alone, Lost and Untyed

When I was a kid my mom used to leave easter eggs around the house, so well sometimes that we would find them years later. She would grate a carrot like the easter bunny had been eating the carrots we left out for him. I always found it funny that he ate so messily. When we got older she left us chocolate still but on the counter. She was always did a good job of Easter and Christmas. Continue reading “Alone, Lost and Untyed”

Lately

Lately its been hard to breathe. Its hard to explain when people ask how Ive been that it feels like there is a cement block pressing down on my chest holding me under water. Its hard to explain how my whole body seems to be overflowing with greif and pain, when a lot of people dont understand the severity of the loss. They act as if it was a choice. And out of good intentions they say things like ‘its not forever.’ Just for a second imagine losing your family. Not because of death (though I know from experience that thats awful too) but because they chose not to be open and to not apologize. Imagine theyd emotionally/verbally abused you for years and though its accidental, it was serious and did a lot of damage.

Lately its been so dark, life moves as if in slow motion and fast forward at the same time. I lay awake a lot stressing about this combination of little things, weird and hard things until the pile of shit is so high I cant see the top. Yes, Im trying to use the tools I have, be active, stay mindful but when its already hard to eat and sleep sometimes everything else feels like climbing mountians.

Lately its been hard to eat, food has no appeal a lot of the time. I’ve made a mental note to check in every two hours to see if I’ve eaten, but sometimes I forget.
I haven’t been going to the gym or yoga nearly as much as I should, because I work every day, and by the time I’m done I’m too tired or depressed to have the motivation to go.

So, here’s an honest answer to ‘how are you?’:
I am truckin’ away. I tend to be around the map with my mood, as you may know by now. But I am more often depressed lately, more often anxious, and the intensity of those have been amplified, of fucking course. So, there are some days where I dont want to exist. Not that I have a plan, but I think about it casually. If you’ve never felt it, it’s really hard to explain. Promise that I have no plan. But I do think about not existing. I have felt like a burden for being depressed and grieving. I have not been well. But I’ve been trucking away, feeling what I have to, not giving up, fighting one moment at a time.

With all this shit coming up, it has hard to feel great about my body. Feeling pretty awful about it. Someone reminded me the other day that our physical, emotional, and spiritual health are not separate. There are times we can put relatively equal amounts of energy into all of it, and there are times where we need to use a little extra in one area and the others diminish a bit. Feeling greif and being depressed won’t diminish if you put tons of pressure on yourself to be out and active, and happy, and busy all the time. In fact, you’re on your way to burn out (ahem, speaking of, sounds like me eh?). Its okay to be sad, its okay to not be okay. Its okay to give yourself the time to feel those emotions. Keep checking in and asking yourself ‘what would be for my highest good right now?’, and listen to the answer. If its gym, great. If its laying in bed and watching Netflix, great. But do so without guilt, let yourself enjoy what your body needs.

So what am I doing about the depression, and stress? I am taking a step back from working at the part time job starting soon. I postponed a commitment I had in the spring to August, I am being as kind to myself as I can. I am going to therapy, tryin to ask for help, and remembering (trying to) the tools I’ve spent so long learning. I’m expressing appreciation and gratitude for the things I am lucky enough to have and the people I’m lucky to have in my corner.

Thank YOU, yes you, for reading, and supporting. Thank you for being open about your own shit, and holding space for others emotions, mistakes and the parts that they’re renovating. There’s a ‘Buy me a Coffee’ button on the side or bottom of the screen, if you feel compelled to support in a more financial manner, its always greatly appreciated. Other forms of support: tell your friends about the blog, reach out and give me feedback, or just keep on being the amazing human you are!

Much love.

Bi-products of trauma.

Alright, these past few weeks have been kind of insane, but I don’t know that I’m ready to talk about it yet. ¬†I am going to tell you that I’m going to be in a Fashion Show for the first time tomorrow, one that promotes body positivity, and is a ‘fuck you’ to diet culture, anxiety, depression and I’m so excited to be a part of it. ¬†If you’re in Kingston message me for details. ¬† ¬†So what I’m going to talk about (rant on about) today is the residual effects of trauma and emotional abuse. ¬†Sometimes we don’t think much about the littler things that might come up as a result, and they can feel pretty…scary, and confusing. ¬†I often felt like there was something really wrong with me because of them, as if they are flaws. ¬†These are by no means all of them, just a few that have reeked havoc in my life. Continue reading “Bi-products of trauma.”

Fucking vulnerability

Vulnerability is my theme of the week. Doing things that are scary, showing myself, being honest, letting myself connect wit people. I’ve been avoiding this post for a long time. I’ve been avoiding thinking about it, and feeling it, its a lot. Its complicated, its hard, and fucking terrifying. I have wrote and rewrote this many times, and am choosing the kindest angle possible, as my intentions are not to speak ill of anyone, or to hurt anyone. I want to be vulnerable and speak of something that’s been on my mind, to get it out in the open, and help those who have been through similar things. Before I start, I’ve been listening to a lot of Brene Brown talking about vulnerability. If you haven’t heard her ted talk or her podcast with opera look it up, damn it is full of amazing insights. She talks about being vulnerable and it being the killer of shame. That our culter holds so much shame that we won’t even talk about it, we avoid vulnerability, that we are all wounded and pretending to be fine. Connection starts with vulnerability. I try and live in this vulnerability zone, being brutally honest, pushing myself out of my comfort zone, and honestly it’s what has sparked most of my growth. All that aside, I’m going to talk a bit more about my family, my sister specifically. If you know her, imagine it’s someone entirely different. Don’t take this as anything negative against her, as always, I mean everything with love. I am so terrified to write this, I feel like it makes me an awful person, that I have no right to share it, that I have no right to feel it. Fuck it. Close this if you are in the business of taking it personally.
Continue reading “Fucking vulnerability”

Christmas Update

Well kids, these past few weeks have been big ones, I apologize for the radio silence, I had so much going on I was just treading through it. I put far too much on my plate and no suprise got sick. I did put on a great show, have a wonderful dinner, and spent lots of time with some amazing friends.
So to summarize: it was my first Christmas after no contact with fam, last week at the cafe job, played a show, hosted my first Christmas dinner, and saw a bunch of friends that I love. Oh, and today’s (Dec 29- when I wrote most of this post) and that my abusive grandmother died.
First of all, I was blown away by the love and support you all poured out, thank you so much. Thanks for your continued reading and everlasting support. I hope you all are having a really nice holiday, surrounded by love. Continue reading “Christmas Update”