Lesson I am Learning : Projection is not about me

When the storm clears, and the clouds begin to part, things really become more clear. 

Quite interesting how this almost always seems to be the case. 

Comical, in fact

Strength comes in many forms and through out the years I have forgotten exactly how strong I can be.  

Recently I was tested, reminded, reinforced and a pretty amazing  feat happened. 

I saw myself for who I am, 

and what I have to offer...

and why people are in my life....

boom

Strength shows itself at strange times, and I am going to assume it is mostly at times when it is really required. The other times it just hides itself, feeding on different subjects, learning and waiting to pounce into action for recovery.

Love and kindness, on the other hand, often prances around, tossing out daisies and compliments, not necessarily draining you.... but maybe opening one up to jabs, that little by little can cause misunderstood pain.

I spoke to Miss Jody (therapy hippy) about why this happens.  Why, when one person is generally nice, loving, and kind to most people, they feel the hate the most? Do they have to carry the weight ? And when this happens...How do you continue to care and not necessarily love, but be nice?

question: Why do the few I love the most say such mean things?

Loving, even when hated....I will not waiver from that 

hate me for many things but know I love deeply to those in my life

As a human, I can honestly say, when there are people in my life I care for them.

..ups and downs, 

anger and 

life changes. 

 Once I say this person is a good soul...I protect that. I can watch friends make mistakes and suffer pain and I will 98% empathize, and if they are in the wrong..

"mistakes happen, 

own them, 

learn from them, 

look around and see who stands quietly next to you..."

they are waiting for you to realize and learn

Learning about how many people will project their hurt or failure onto you has been a bit of an eyeopener the last few weeks.

Definitely a subject I knew about, but have not recently been strong enough to realize:

 It is not me...

It is the other. 

When my heart hurt...many came forward to hold my heart in their hands and be strong when I couldn't...when I could not hold the weight of my son, my anger, and was in fear of losing my own heart to pain...

people came to me with the words of wisdom

"I love you, we love you, you are so strong Myssi and we will take care of you so that you can take care of this....You will not break"

In privacy of work quiet areas, run clubs, late night texts and calls...

people came to me and let me cry, so that I could be strong for others....

all of this hidden away from my family. 

As life has it, a few did the opposite.
a few went missing...
a few were not who I thought they could be

Growth periods in life are not instability (mentally, emotionally or physically).... 

they are strengthening...

you bend, you hurt, you question, you don't break

you learn....

Anger is never a primary emotion.

Hurt and failure usually proceed. 

Anger is a pot stirrer....and when projected often returns itself with anger.

and as full circle 

feeling of failure and hurt follow.

I need to remember this when friends project their rejections or failures on me....

it sucks dick.

 

This is exactly why I no longer hate....

I remove myself....

it's so hard....

but I don't want to think poorly of the people I loved.

I guess the lesson here is 

Forgive and Forget

everyone fights their own battles, some may seem shallow to you but are important to them.

People can dig and look for love all around 

use an app, swipe all different directions, beg for it, put on your best clothes for it, 

But that shit is organic....

it crosses your path and it stays....

it's there....

love

so many different forms and people

I suggest you try to look around and hold onto those people who do love you

you know who they are

so...stop projecting your insecurities and open up

It's pretty amazing

xo,

I'll be right here

waiting...

m

awkward

truth....

and awkward.  

yup, I admit I am, and always have been. 

I crack myself up....

I attempt things I have no business attempting....

I overthink....

I'm often at a loss at how to properly interact (although I will always try, and usually fail miserably).

Considered outgoing by friends but always in pure panic mode when out, which tends to accentuate the awkward....

Communication with me is often misinterpreted...even in text...and it makes people frustrated...

I fall down, whoops....

every picture of me, looks like I'm grimacing 

My friends spend a lot of time correcting my manners and shaking their heads....

I am used to it.

but others....

not so much.

14 Things You Should Know Before You Date  Hang Out with Someone Who’s Actually Awkward

click that link above...

(I believe they wrote that about me)

but I am fun...and funny.

I have touched on this story before....

A few years ago I was required to go to a Keith Urban thing.

One of those things I am not excited about, and actually become mortified, because :

1. backstage /green room is not as cool as people think it is ( believe me)

2. I am always stuck waiting like a groupie while the intermingling is going on...and I hate groupies...

plus they always look at me like "why are you here?"

3. for some reason there are ALWAYS posed, stupid pictures required.

We arrived a bit late with poor instructions as to how to get to Mr. Urban.  On the drive there, I was VERY clear on my rules....I will participate and be polite, I will attempt not to talk and say stupid shit accidentally, and under NO circumstances am I going to take a picture in that room.   I don't like Keith Urban and I hate pictures....is this understood?  seriously, no pictures....I will get up and walk out if you do that to me.  You know I will....

"stop being so ....you...It's fine...no pictures then.  Olive and I will take a picture"

fine

"fine"

We finally walk the length of what seemed to be 18 football fields and pass a group of giggling, chunky, cowgirls with bedazzled jeans and pink boots. As I stomped past the line of people waiting to get in, and followed B, who looked as if he was where he was supposed to be, the girls gave me the once over and a glare....

B stepped in front and looked in the gate and said..." well I guess we are too late"

Good ...I looked down at my bracelet and noticed it had a different mark on it than all the groupies.

I showed it to B and said, " hey...does this mean we are too old to stand in this line?" and I flashed it at the girl in the front....

she glared and said,

"Keith is done signing autographs"

"praise the lord", I said 

....let's go get a beer...and funnel cake.

B, looked through the gate and then at me and Olive and said...

"Its fine....let's go."

Walking off, I heard the girls giggling...." like they have some special pass, pfhhht "

We weren't 50 feet from the gate. and almost free as far as I could tell, when a guy , the guy who 4 minutes before slammed the gate and said "NO MORE", came ripping up behind us yelling , Mr. Smith!!! Mr. Smith!!! 

Keith is waiting for you!!!!   why didn't you say something?

(damnit....does Mr Urban have beer?)

B...no fucking pictures.  you promised....

We were escorted back to the front, through the large huddle of young women, and through the gate.  I flashed my bracelet at the girl in the front,

"Old people rule..."

she glared.

As usual, we were led to the room with fruit, water, snacks and comfy couches.  No groupies...just a few recording industry people and a body guard.  I stayed back because I knew exactly what was about to happen.  Keith looked over and came right up to B and shook his hand

"man, I almost missed ya"

they talked guitars and gear....he thanked B for the custom guitar he built for him.... "I love it , man.... I play it all the time"

Olive and I poked around the snack table...some person handing us water...offering fancy fruit....and a seat.

I whispered to the person, "where's the beer"

"He's clean" she whispered back ...."sober"....

I grimaced...Oh yeah, I said to her..".I saw that on TMZ"

she grimaced back.  

oops , awkward.

Before I had a minute to think straight I felt a hand on my back ....

"Hey Love, come on over here and lets get a snap"

??

I turned around and there he was ....

Handsome, short, and repeating himself....

"Let's get a snap"

nope....

I glare at B...then at Olive....who is smiling.

He turns to her and says, get your mom...lets get a nice snap.

I hate you....

not only am I grimacing....my shirt is see through.

mortifyingly awkward

"come on Mom...."

He put his arm around me and I leaned in, and for some reason took a deep smell of him...

loudly , but accidentally.

He smelled of pine trees and earth....and maybe Gain detergent....

I pictured Nicole Kidman doing his laundry and hanging it on the line in beautiful Australia....or Nashville....

Then Olive leans forward and says 

"Did you just Sniff Keith Urban?"

Why yes, yes I did....

*snap.*

I hate this picture more than anything.

ANYTHING....

my friends on social media think it is hysterical and every year for the past 3 years whenever this pops up on anyones social memories...

they post it.

"most awkward photo ever"

Just a tiny piece of my life.

there are many more ....

so, even though sometimes I may seem nuts....

I'm not really

just awkward...

and after the fact, it brings many people comedic relief.

makes people feel better about them selves when they hang out with me

Maybe this is why so many of my friends stick around or my old loves continue to never really leave, regardless of saying "I just can't"

I'm entertaining...

Unpredictably predictable 

awkward.

xo,

write ya later,

m

don't wear black to a photo shoot

and I am 

un-replaceable....

365 days : post trauma mulch therapy

A dear friend sent me an article about marriage and divorce this past week, amongst all of my family strife and trauma. I always read and or listen to whatever people send my way because:

1. they thought enough of me to send it

2. it may help

The article made me think about no matter how much life education you get you can always use a bit more help and maybe someone with a little better track record to tell you

"you are moving the correct direction."

But, My mind is a bit full right now and as I read I thought...

Does this shit really matter?  We all end up in the same place anyways....dead.

Bettering myself for who?

Me? 

When someone says to you, "You must love yourself, in order to be loved..."

I call bullshit....Makes me laugh

Look at Charles Manson....

he's a piece of shit, but people love him

oh, but wait, 

He loved the shit out of himself.

...Back on track...

Does changing my entire life at 50 even make a difference to anyone?  

Yes, I need to make myself happy, and I am working towards that, but even when my change in status happens, will there be a change?

that is the 500k question.

Three weeks ago I started private therapy sessions, to mainly see if I can correct this great sense of guilt and need to take care of everyone's needs short of my own...Also, I am working towards some life changes which I am finding extremely difficult because of the first issue of guilt.

My new therapist pre-warned me she accidentally says "fuck" sometimes and contrary to her flowey, hippy, royal colored outfit, I really connected.

She let me cry about my recent trauma my son experienced which has left me fearing for his life and my poor parenting skills.

Then she asked me about my life.

Why do I go back and forth on things like a poorly operated amusement park ride?
Me:

"It's not good...but it's not horrible....I won't die if I stay where I am at....but my soul may die...."

She looked me right in the eye and said ...

"WTF?"

shit or get off the pot.

quit overthinking...get out of your overworking brilliant mind and connect with life.

She asked me to make a grand change , but not too grand, before I came back to see her.

So that night, moving quickly, so that I did not have time to dwell.

I quit my job and took a closer job, with more pay, at something I have never done before in my life.

barely told anyone.....just sent the resignation and the acceptance letters all in less than 20 minutes...

then thought I would literally die...

dead....

but I did not.

I took a breath and thought about what my son is going through and said ,

"grow a fucking pair, M....this is just daily life...not death or anywhere close....ya silly twat"

Next she asked how my parental family interacted....

I said, "they are dead" so I'm good there.

oh!? you want to know their interaction when I was growing up?

yeah.  

My mom was a caregiver for my dad who had Alzheimer's for as long as I can remember....

she pretty much sacrificed the best time of her adult life to make sure Dad was safe, loved and cared for in a dignified manner.

..."So, your mom was a caregiver for your dad and 12 kids...she never left because 1. she loved him...and 2. she owed him for taking care of her when they met? ....hmmmm, M...does that sound familiar to you?"

fuck holes.  

"maybe"

Why are you not mad about your current situation?  I see an intelligent, attractive, funny, albeit overthinking, very available woman, with quite a bit to offer, that is getting nothing in return.,,,

Why have you not gotten angry? why ?

Go home...

do one big task and think about the rest...

I'll see you in 2 weeks.

one week...

task one completed but still unable to address the main situation.

I have quietly been laughing at myself.

trying to get back into my normal life post the last few weeks.

Working out, running, taking a million pictures no one sees, writing, actually riding my Moto....and connecting with people who have been trying to connect yet I have closed them out.

It feels pretty good and soothing...not stressful.

questioning if this is apathy...that I don't care what he will think....or is it the start of a fuller independence?

Independence wise I threw 80 bags of mulch down around the huge ass yard, because this is what you do around here....I packed more things in case I want to just walk away.

looked at studios and such even though people say....

you shouldn't move...

you should get to stay.

maybe I don't want to 

4/8/19

post mulch...no makeup...no filter...just me...

Feel free to offer any advice, article , love, you may have in the comments.

I'm open.

my heart is open.

my humor is there....

ha

write ya later,

m

365 days: Mirrored Life and No More Public Sadness

2 weeks and my soul is still very heavy.

I went to bed yesterday at 6:40pm and woke at 8am....

Still tired, aged 1000 years and my list of shit I need to accomplish continues to grow.

I took this picture to remind myself I am still alive...

My son is still alive....

and my heart is still beating.

all the cocktails in the world will not help

my drug days are way over (thank you)...

Talking to people really doesn't help, because all it does is push people away in an awkward manner

and 

ignoring myself apparently will not help 

I have told myself this morning, as I drink my green smoothie, get ready for going down my list and accomplishing things such as brushing teeth, eating a solid food, going outside, laundry (because I stink), and try to exercise...

I tell myself that I am not going to be that friend people want to ignore after today.

My life is not that heavy and my problems should be mine and mine alone.

But I am going to share a one sided story.

Then I will say my thanks to the people I love.

I was Elliot.

I lived the life of bars, strip clubs...poor choices in men.

is it a gene? is it a lack of fatherly love?

who knows. 

Was I sexually abused by my dad?  NO

The neighbor boy up the street? Yes...

but I thought it was a game....

I have never been a victim.

even after being raped by a man I knew,

 who broke into my apartment while I was at work and waited for me.

my fault...

play the game and recover...

These people in my life were poor decisions and I set myself up for bad shit to happen.

I was young.

I was headstrong

and I didn't care for myself a whole hell of a lot.

I worked precarious jobs, but was always smart enough to not get too involved.

I worked with questionable people,

but again....

stayed solo in my life...

hopping from situation to situation with close friends often not even knowing where or what I was doing.

did I do drugs?  yes.  

with the promise I would never shoot-up...

I never did...

but, you can get the same effect smoking or snorting.

Waking up in people's house and not knowing where you are...

wrong side of town...

outside in a yard...

with blood pouring from a knife slice from someone I trusted...

 and a scar not even a tattoo can cover

funny stories, now....kind of...

Somehow I avoided death and the addictive gene.

I begged my soul for help to be stronger, and to not want so much...

I wrote letters to myself...

reminders...

you got this

all by your self....

you got this.

I knew (know) I was (am) a broken person.

wanting to be loved more than anyone can actually give.

I finally left that town...Atlanta.

I escaped... 

moved to the mountains in Colorado

I got a day job

I milked goats.

Someone who did not know a thing about me gave me chance waiting tables in a breakfast place.

I didn't have access to drugs...

I didn't have access to friends...

I was horrifying lonely...

sad...

really sad

I lapsed a few times with poor decisions...

but I made it.

here I am....

and maybe that is why I am so saddened for the death of Elliot.

Because I saw her resume sitting on the table that morning when the police asked me to go in and look around. 

She was trying.

She constructed an entire resume outlining her strengths and work ethic.

To go from nightlife

to the safety of day life.

but she did not make it

stuck in the night.

That is my short version of my story.

Many parts of my life are very secret.

laughable and haunting.

here I am at 50.

looking into a time machine of a young girl who was living my life and many other's

poor choices...

heartbreakingly lonely

and a young man who couldn't fix or love her enough

Elliot/Ashton

photo by : Ilin Blue

this is my last day of horrible public sadness.

It does no one any good....

I am thankful for the few friends who  have come to me....

 even though I say to stay away...

I'm good.

so thankful.

My dreams and thoughts still take me to the comfort of that certain someone else...

 multiple times a day

comfort, safety, and warmth...

and quiet...

wanting to escape to the safety of strong arms...

💙

last day...

My kids need me

Her mom needs me

I think I need myself

write ya later

xo,

m

Parenting with no Handbook. Death Part 2: .......64 Liters of Tears

I am not sure how a body can continue to produce so many tears,

they just continue

to flow....

stop. I say....

just stop

but they don't, 

The average person cries 64 Liters of tears in their lifetime and I am going to say this does not include trauma.

As the week has passed it only appears to get harder for the loved ones trying to find answers.
To sort through the life of what is left

"everyone has a secret life" I said as he sorts through all that remains.

Old purses, notebooks, clothes, bags....

I just didn't know, Mom....I just didn't know.

knowing the love was so strong, treasures were found with the evils 

but it is neither here nor there....

it really doesn't change anything

except to one.

He had to adult in a way no young person should have to.

Her mom requested he arrange everything she would want....

because, in all honesty, he knew her. 

They talked about death

He knew what she would want

She would want a natural burial...

no chemicals, maybe buried under a tree....

with a crown of flowers, like a princess.

So, that is what they did.

3/24/19

Her body was transferred to a small place where she could be seen once again,

before her soul would be set completely free.

My heart broke for him....

I was nervous for him....

death is not only cruel, but often ugly.

She was gently placed upon a table and he was allowed to go in alone...

Just him and her....

he told me, "Mom, she is so beautiful. I am so thankful I got to see her like this....and let go of the last time I saw her.

I kissed her and held her....

and we talked."

He dressed her in the vintage robe she wore at home, 

washed her hair and anointed her body with beautiful oils.

He traced the deep Y-incision with his warm hands upon her cold chest.

She was draped with a beautiful white cloth 

He placed his carefully made crown upon her head and spread fresh flowers delicately around her

Beautiful

She was so beautiful 

His lover, His best friend, His Muse.

Beautiful

He stood for 5 hours, one hand on her heart and one hand holding the other....

Beautiful

I met them for a short time and I cried at her beauty.

no makeup, perfect freckles, and lips still perfectly full.

The crown of flowers was perfect.

I cried for her, for him and for her mother...

I held her cold hand and whispered

"safe travels beautiful girl, safe travels....Keep Ilin safe from above"

I kissed her perfectly cold cheek

my heart broken.

"I will never love again....

I should have proposed....

I shouldn't have fallen asleep that night....

I should have known"

But you didn't 

and there is nothing you could have changed.

There is only a short in-between in this situation, my sweet boy.

It unfortunately, was inevitable...

you even said,

"I knew this would happen eventually ..."

xo,

M