This is where it ends.

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I’m stuck. I’m almost 32 years old, and I am still stuck when I try to tell the story of how my sexuality was shaped. I envy people who can freely talk about such things. It’s just not something that comes easily to me. Some days I wish I could have an open and engaging conversation about sexuality just like I can about Star Trek. God, that would make life so much easier.

For so long in my life, I thought that sex was something to be feared or ashamed of. From the first moment that I was asked not to “tell, cause then we will just get into trouble…” to this very moment, I have been one twisted, mental fuck-up when it comes to anything sexual. And that really, really sucks.

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Life Is Like A Love Song

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According to my Meyers-Briggs and my astrology report, I should have been a musician. I never did learn an instrument well enough to pull that off. I can play a little bit of guitar, a little bit of piano but that’s the extent of it unless you count my shower concerts. My favorite form of expression is visual.. digital remixing of graphics. Sometimes I incorporate music too. I’ll have lots of different graphics and take the parts of them I want to use and create something completely different. I’m constructing an image in the same way  a DJ remixes a  song. I borrow a little bit from here and there. I did it with the header image of this post. Another example:

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Artists are really just instruments themselves. Life has singers and dancers and producers and technicians. All these moving parts that come together to create a masterpiece.

“The whole is greater than the sum of it’s parts.” -Aristotle

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No Time to Breathe

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In the busy hustle of life I rarely take time to breathe.  I rarely take time to notice the small things in life I should appreciate. When is the last time I savored the smell of the coffee as it brewed in the morning and the warmth of the cup that I held in my hand? Or did I dash out the door with my travel mug of instant made coffee only to sip it once it was cold because Monday morning was crazy at the office?  When is the last time I enjoyed the fact that I dropped my kids off to school watching them barrel out of the car with their book bags?  Or did I rush them out because I was late getting to work? When did I notice the beautiful sunshine coming in the windows of my car or sing along to the radio while the wind whistled in my open windows?  Or did I yell at the driver in front of me because I was trying to get to another appointment in record time?

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Heal Your Hissy Fits

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I live in Mississippi. The Southern part of the United States commonly referred to as “The South”. We have a saying around these parts… “Here in the South we don’t hide crazy. We parade it on the front porch and give it a sweet tea.” It’s true. We stand by that. When southern women lose control of their emotions it is called throwing a “hissy fit.”

screen-shot-2017-03-04-at-10-27-40-pmSource: Urban Dictionary: hissy fit

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Woke As Hell

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“Woke as hell.” I could seriously punch something when I hear someone utter that sentence. But why? Because I think it is a dumb thing to say. But why? Because I ASSUME the people who say it have no real idea what it means to wake up and I associate it with disrespect. But why? I know the amount of work that goes into the process and I feel it should be revered with a tremendous amount of respect. It is divine. So, what does something someone else says have to do with me? Nothing. See how much time I just wasted?

I spent all of my life, up until last weekend focused on others much, much more than I focused on myself. Rarely critical of others, highly critical of myself. I had no idea. I have been in a fog floating down a river of lies.

I woke up to a reality that I had been unaware of. That’s the thing. We are unaware that we are unaware. Finally. Finally I saw it. Codependency patterns in my family -the reason I have been insecure, sought validation outside myself, didn’t trust myself and didn’t feel entitled to my own experience. All codependency issues. I say I saw through my download. Download being the information my parents passed down to me and the beliefs I formed in childhood. The truth: I am enough. I can trust myself, I don’t need anyone to validate my experience. I am entitled to my experience.

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CRAZY BITCH

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yesiamcrazy-copyIt has been a really warm February in Mississippi. Along with the weather, my insides began to heat up and cause tremendous discomfort. I finally got so uncomfortable that I looked hard enough to break out of a cycle. I can feel the weather in my stomach. I am aware of how crazy that sounds. Done caring how I sound. When there is a sudden temperature spike or drop and when the wind blows I can feel it inside me. Storms too. It isn’t hard for me to understand. Real simple actually.

Emotions are just like the weather. They come and are processed, or not and then they go. Problems arise when emotions are never processed and start controlling all of your behaviors. How can you process something when you don’t even feel like it is okay to feel the way you do? You can’t. I haven’t wanted to leave my house for almost a year. It requires a tremendous amount of energy and my energy tank’s low fuel light came on a long time ago.

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Dx: Disturbed Cognitive Function

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“When I was young, I broke both my ankles jumping off a roof because I was sure a cape would enable me to fly. My parents attributed this to my strong imagination. Last year, my therapist called it a delusion. I fail to see the difference.They keep telling me seeing things that aren’t technically there is called “disturbed cognitive functioning.” I call it “having a superpower”.

-Neil Hilborn

It’s good to be here and be proud of who I am because I spent a long time rejecting myself. I began to believe something was horribly wrong with me because the way I experience life is very different than the way most people do.

Alright. I’m just gonna rip the bandaid off and say it. I see things that others do not and I have seen these things since I was a little girl. Full bodied apparitions, shadow figures, strange creatures. As a child, there was a glowing orb of light that would enter my room and interact with me. It responded to questions I asked by causing me to feel a vibration throughout my body when the answer was either yes/right. I called it Primo, short for primordial. Of course I had no idea primordial was even a word back then but I did know that was definitely what that glowing orb of light was.

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