I taste the loss of control

A bitter innocent and the hint of contempt make it impossible to sleep. Yet she wraps her arms around me and dares to dream while I lay shuffling through nightmares; I’m almost completely devoid of anything else. These nights break me, but she won’t let me shatter. I wonder if this is worth it.

I didn’t get evicted. Mainly because they never showed up like they said they would. For two days, I sat there thinking the worst. Holding this belief that I had not only failed my child but lost us a home, and they never even came to check things out. It makes me wonder if they were just having a bad day when they made that threat. It’s the only reason I can think of as to why they haven’t talked to me about it. I have had no emails or calls, and though I have walked to the office a few times, it hasn’t been mentioned as of it.

So what was with them making those threats? What was with them scaring me? I know that I should probably count my blessings.

I have my home

In a few weeks I will have my job

My daughter is safe and happy, as am I.

So what’s the problem?

Cleaning Closets

I found a pair of socks that I kept from 2001. Well, I got them from an old best friend’s mother sometime around 2011, but they are one of those new year’s socks. The one with won’t clocks on them to celebrate the end of the year. They are cute, and I loved them. I still do, but they have holes in the toe from me wearing them too much. They are also a little more grey than white. No amount of bleaching will bring back the color they used to be. But I love them.

They reminded me of a time when I wasn’t happy but content. Yeah I remember that I spent a lot of time with this friend. Her parents would let me come over nearly every weekend. We celebrated almost every holiday together as well. There were actually a few times when I would go home with this friend on a Friday only to go back to my parent’s house that following Monday after school. Notice that I said home, because hers was more a home than any place that I had lived before.

It wasn’t perfect. This friend and I had fights. I occasionally disappointed her parents. And I am almost certain that 2 of her three older siblings hated me. I would say all three, but in recent years, one of them messaged me cause he wanted to date. Which was strange, but he was the hot older brother, so score (?).

This friend and I lost touch after high school. Honestly, it was bound to happen. Thinking about it now we were friends due to proximity. We had enough in common to hang out but not enough to keep the relationship from turning toxic. Back then mg disorder was not yet diagnosed and I wasn’t seeing a doctor. So I had a lot of issues that went unnoticed by many people. She had some problems as well. Some of them ok but others pretty toxic in their own right. We could have attended therapy and grown up together, but we didn’t.

I tried my hardest to stick around, but she wasn’t for it. So we stopped being friends, that is. She stopped answering my phone calls and text messages.

But I kept those socks her mother gave me. Even when I was homeless, they stayed in whatever backpack I carted around. Even when a shelter I stayed at kicked me out and refused to let me get my belongings, I still kept those damn socks.

It’s been nearly a decade since I spoke to her. What’s funny is I kept in contact with her momma for a bit after that, but she was a major republican and worshipped tr0mp. This wasn’t an issue for me, but I was pretty vocal in my distaste for him, so eventually, she unfriended me.

I still got the socks, though—those 20-year-old socks.

Mental Awareness and COVID

I started this blog as a way to share my poems with others. I didn’t believe myself to be any good, but I wanted to share them anyways. My goal was to write until I gained both the skill and confidence to write a full-length book. Be it a poem or fiction, I was going to write something.

It ended up becoming more than that. Slowly, this blog became my haven. The place where I could share my deepest emotions that I did not allow myself to feel allowed. I could strangers my dreams without fear of being judged. Well, I could still be judged but in a more effective way. And for awhile this worked. I wrote my stories and my poems and things going on in my life. I made some wonderful friends and discovered people I wouldn’t have otherwise been aware of had I not taken this dive. Gradually, I found myself needing this blog less and less. The lessons learned from all these wonderful people and stories pushed me to better myself. And I did!

For many months I found myself in a much better spot. No longer did I live in a place filled with toxic people. I dont have as big of a support system but those I do have I can trust.

My daughter is also doing amazing. We even managed to get a puppy. All was…well

But then I got sick

Very sick

It didn’t last all that long, but it left an impact and made it difficult to do things for a while. I got depressed, and I slowed down. I stopped making progress and become stagnated. But it wasn’t all that bad; I still did things but slower.

It was during this time that someone decided to visit me.

My landlord. They came to do what I had first believed to be a routine inspection. My home wasn’t the best, but it wasn’t terrible. In its state, I wouldn’t have felt embarrassed with inviting over strangers, is what I am trying to say. They took a look around and left.

The next day I get a letter stating that they wanted to evict me.

This…this came as a surprise since I had never had any problems before. My neighbors seemed to adore my daughter and never hesitated to stop and say hi—even the grumpier ones. I paid my bills on time, and all other inspections were ok as well. There is a three-strike rule here, and as this would be my first, I didn’t understand why this was taking place. I set up a meeting with them after I had gathered evidence that no messages between the landlord and me nor maintenance had taken place previously about any complaints.

But of course, things did not go well.

The landlord spent the better part of the meeting just spewing venom at me. From the moment she opened her mouth till she finally closed it, she was just rude. There was no actual reason to get trying to evict me. She didn’t provide proof that anyone complained, just said that they did. When I started to have a panic attack, because obviously, I would, she then threatened to kick me out because I was mentally incapable of living independently, despite having done so for many years now. During this she did call the ambulance because I started to experience chest pains (due to the nature of my last apartment I started to develop chest pains whenever I experience a panic attack. This is a normal symptom of these sort of attacks). She wouldn’t listen to any of my explanations and just accused me of making up excuses. The EMT tell her what I already informed her, I was having a panic attack. A few more things happen but when it was all said and done she threatened to evict me many times, on top of having my dog removed, on top of having my child removed. All because I was sick and had a panic attack.

The illness, by the way, was most likely covid.

For three days, I could not move from my bed. Luckily my kiddo is pretty independent and is old enough to get her some quick meals. She is also tall enough that when I had to get up anyway to get her food, she could help me move around and steer me to the couch when I got too dizzy. She was such a trooper. I don’t have a car and so was unable to go get tested officially (you can’t take the bus or a cab if you have symptoms of covid and I had no one who could take me to a testing center). Another sign that it may have been covid was the fact that we had gotten a notice that my daughter had been exposed just a day or so beforehand. So we had already been under quarantine when I got sick.

For the first of those two weeks, I was extremely ill. For the second, I was recovering and still found it difficult to do things. I would often get dizzy if I stood up to fast. It didn’t help that I still couldn’t eat much, so I was surviving on mostly water.

But when it was all said and done I was only dealing with the normal levels of depression. Now, I am not.

The landlord did end up calling CPS. That very day they came to my home because they were told that I was to mentally unstable to care for my child. Sense then I have been trying my best to prove to them that I am fully capable of caring for her. But I am failing.

This is because even though they can see that she is getting her needs met, they are under the impression that it will not stay that way. So they are not judging me based on my current efforts but solely on a possible future that may not come to pass. At this time, they do not know if they will take my child.

I am lost.

And I am scared.

I am being harshly judged for an illness I could not help get and for a disability I had no say in developing. All by people who say they just want to help but whose main goal seems to lie in finding ways to mess up my life.

I wish that they could see that they are not helping. I wish that they could see that I am doing the best that I can. I wish they could understand that when my daughters says that she is happy that truly means she is happy. And I really wish they could see that having a disability doesn’t make me second class or less human.

Yes, I will make mistakes, but I own up to those mistakes.

I no longer hold the belief that asking for help gets me nowhere but hurt. I know how and when and who to call if things get tough. I am not allergic to aid. I wish they would see that.

But they don’t

At least it doesn’t seem to be that way.

So here I am, back again, using this blog to share my thoughts because I have no other place to do so. For those who have reached the end, I apologize. I made a promise a while back to start writing happy stuff, and I didn’t. Still I am grateful for you sticking around. Hopefully, things work out in the end.

I wish you many blessings along the way.

My daughter is in therapy. There really is no reason for it. Mentally, she is fairly healthy. No, this is so she can work through the struggles that came from being raised in a single parent home when said single parent has a personality disorder. I can’t, I won’t let her turn out like me. Instead I put her in therapy so that she can speak to someone who can help her understand that I love her unconditionally even if I do not always show it and that my flaws are not a representation of her at all. So far, I think it has helped her.

But I overheard something the other day. Or was it today. I can’t recall. Well one day I heard something while she was talking to her therapist.

Normally, I do not my best to not listen in. I play music or watch something. There have been times when I will stand outside. Her therapy is her time. But today, or was it last week, maybe it never happened, she read a book to her therapist about people with BPD.

It is a book geared more towards children. A series, in fact, that details a lot of disorders but I gave her the one fo used on mine. She read this book to her therapist and told her how it was one that made me cry every time I read it. How, while reading it, she discovered that the charecter with BPD acted a lot like me. Her therapist asked her opinion on this and my daughter stated

“It’s fine”

….

It’s fine?

As she continued to read she ran across a part that gave her pause. Within this book is a section that talks about people with BPD often having problems with boundaries because they are afraid of being abandoned. So when someone goes a long time without answering text or phone calls, the person with BPD will start to freak out. In the process they may respond in anger or fear. My daughter, being the rather opinionated person that she is, told her therapist that this was something she found to be mean. When her therapist asked her to explain what she meant she just repeated herself and kept on reading.

Now, this is something that I do. But it is an aspect of myself that I tend to ignore. Mainly because I feel justified in my mass text or phone calls if I am repeatedly ignored. Of course I do not do it for long. Because after some time I will just convince myself that the person hates me and wants me dead. That’s exactly why they are ignoring me. It doesn’t matter what the true reasoning is. What I feel is right because I believe it is. They hate me, they want me dead, I annoy them, thus they are no longer my friend.

But this isn’t true. At least that is what reality says. Yet I still feel this way. So when my child looked to her therapist and said that she behavior was mean…I had to check myself.

Am I being mean?

I don’t rightly know.

Of course another update

I like to do random updates through the year so that people can get to know me. Which is probably neccessary considering I mainly write poetry on here. But ya know, I got to keep people on their toes I guess.

Whatever that means.

So here is another random update.

School has been hectic. I am doing surprisingly well this semester though I am also doing really had. 3 A+ and 2 F.

How did I accomplish this beautiful feat?

Well my therapist says depression. For some reason my happy chemicals are only present for the classes that I enjoy or ones where the professor makes the class interesting. Even if it is one I would normally dislike due to the subject or the nature of the course. I do well because the professor is responsive, as are my classmates. With courses I dislike or ones where the professor is…meanish, I do not do well in. It is almost as if I become drained of all energy when it comes down to doing the school work.

Like for instance. I am failing a course and asked a professor for help. His response was basically to tell me to do better. Like thank you my guy! Such enlightenment 🙃.

The other professor is for speech. For those of you who have been here for some time you probably know that I have social anxiety. To the point where I have been diagnosed with a minor form of Agoraphobia. Why minor I say? Because I can leave my house and talk to people if the reason I need to do so is for my kid. But I can not do those things for me.

So I order groceries online because grocery stores make me anxious and I go to the doctor only when things start looking like ginger ale ain’t cutting it no more. Even something as simple as taking out the trash is a hassle because there are people at there

Breathing people who can judge. They are CONSTANTLY staring and judging and bound to hurt me.

Fun times.

So, as per school rules, I told her about my accommodation and that I may struggle with this course. In top of that I asked for some suggestions.

Her response

OH, just give it a try

Ok just let me jump on that 🙃

Now, there is nothing wrong with this. I whole heartedly stand by the notion of trying something before deciding if you can do it or not. Here’s the stitch though, I did try. I try every day of my life to be normal enough to stand in front of a group of people and state my thoughts and feelings. There are days when I can barely look my therapist in the eyes because I assume that she will judge me and I can not bear if it she does. I…I do try but there are days when trying gets me nowhere. So unless she is willing to give me a few accommodations I will fail. And lo and behold…I am.

That aside, I am doing well I guess.

I moved. My daughter and I got a bigger apartment and she is loving it. We have a gated patio that is fairly large and she has big plans for it. Plans I am just to flabbergasted to say but I will give a hint, it involves a shit ton of chalk.

Blessings to you all!

Just a child

I miss the mornings when I got to lay in bed with you.

The way your curled around me and grabbed so delicately at my hand

You do not know how afraid I was, that I would break you

I knew you weren’t fragile but I still saw you as unreal.

That by taking my eye of you, you would just disappear

I was afraid. Yet you loved to cuddle close

Would out your head near my chest and let out the biggest fuss if I moved

I was a weak and yet… to you…I was home

Song tied

She is certain

With a silver tongue

And fleshed out wings, she brings

Heaven towards the sky

Where Angel fail to dwell

Burned out in their own hell, she spied

Twisted lies and sad goodbyes

She is certain

With fluid eyes

A earth filled with dread

Where beings that feast on dreams

Question a fickle lullaby, she sings

Such pretty things

Like sweet mercy bitten by metal wings

A/N

I wrote this with my best friend in mind. One who just so happens to share my first name. So this is for you Jessica and all others in the world who share this rather interesting name (i.e this name is basic haha)

Also changing the title cause it was meant to be a place holder till I found one I liked. Only I forgot to change it before it had posted. So here ya go

Nana

I melted to a tall tale
Whispered children with the braided hair
Her skin, aged like the earth, brought forth stories on unknown worth.
I melted as far as the oak tree stands
Wine in hand with berry delight
A beautiful sight on a beautiful night
Clear cut eyes crinkle under the moonlight
Whispered the children with the kinked up hair
Her skin, aged like the earth, showed visions of stories never told
And I melted to hear the tale
My dark brown skin and coiled hair, My children!
All standing there
Whispered ‘Nana, thank you for being here’

Written for my Nana Vivian Person

Love you