It was last night at an empty warehouse party...

I want you to see the tears running down my cheek.

This blog post is dedicated to all of the users/abusers/and oblivious that take advantage of genuinely kind people.

What gets you off? Does this?

We are a kind loving people. We open our arms to you. We are your friends and your family. Our hearts are easily broken, but we are quick to forgive.

We will, without hesitating, put our hearts back on the line for you, even if it means getting our hearts broken again.

Unaware that even we have a breaking point, our hearts can be broken so many times until it shatters... our souls. This is when we shut down. We become distant. Do you even notice? Or are you so quick to push us aside because we are no longer strong enough to be used by you any longer? We build a wall higher then the heavens around our hearts, never to be touched again. This is where we become sad, bitter, and angry. Do you even notice, or do our feelings matter?

You take advantage of our generosity. Don't even think about "liking" this post. Because even you are a user of a vulnerable heart.

So for everyone like me, I say to everyone like you... Fuck You.

Fuck You to all the Mothers, Fathers, Friends, Brothers, Sisters, Cousins, Aunts, Uncles, Children, Acquaintances, Classmates, Spouses, and everyone in between, who do not notice how much you hurt us.

Push us far enough and it will result in a lost soul. Take it how you want.

Psychoanalysis & Pop Psychology

I got to thinking about fathers, or the lack there of. Some say a daughters relationship with her father is a model for all of her sub-sequential relationships with men. Is that just pop psychology, or is there some truth to it? And if you were given a less than perfect model does it mean a life of less than perfect relationships? I couldn't help but wonder... how much does a father figure, figure?

Does this theory apply to homosexual relationships? Sigmund Freud's basic theory of human sexuality was that all human beings were innately bisexual, and that they become heterosexual or homosexual as a result of their experiences with parents and others (Freud, 1905). In a now-famous letter to an American mother in 1935, Freud wrote:

"Homosexuality is assuredly no advantage, but it is nothing to be ashamed of, no vice, no degradation, it cannot be classified as an illness; we consider it to be a variation of the sexual function produced by a certain arrest of sexual development. Many highly respectable individuals of ancient and modern times have been homosexuals, several of the greatest men among them (Plato, Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci, etc.). It is a great injustice to persecute homosexuality as a crime, and cruelty too....(reprinted in Jones, 1957, pp. 208-209, from the American Journal of Psychiatry, 1951, 107, 786).

Does this mean, if I did not form a (good) relationship with either of my parents (at birth or early child hood) I am definitely going to be screwed when it comes to forming relationships with a perspective partner?

Just something to think about...

Relationships are about compromise. But where do you draw the line between compromising, and compromising yourself? Is it possible to be so much in love that you don't exist anymore, but only your 'compromised self'?

On that note, love... love is a tricky think. It is dangerous, and sneaky. Which brings us to another subject... Fate. Do the stars and the moon control fate? Is there really that one person out there for each of us, and if so, with one wrong turn or mistake can we loose or miss out on that person and be alone forever?

Walking Blind

I have never thought about where things are going in my life, as much as I do now. Looking back on how I used to live my life is like looking at old archived news papers in the library news paper reading room, that just shoot the grey papers by so fast. I was so caught up in life. I was never in any sort of stable environment. Moving constantly, relationships constantly changing. I used to be so bold. lol I say this because I would always meet up with anyone I met online, as unsafe as that may have been. I was all about making friends, experiencing new things and having a good time.

I like to think I am the same person now, though life has slowed down so much. I am in my second serious committed relationship. The first one tore my heart to shreds. I really gave into that pain and heartache. I lost everything I was. Several years have passed and I still feel like I am trying to get on stable ground. Trying to find myself again. I have a lot to work on.

I've been so hurt by people who are closest to me, friends and family. I forgive. Always. I get hurt again. I forgive again. It is a cycle. When I watch shows like 'Sex in the City', 'Desperate Housewife's' as naive as it may be (i know they are tv shows) it really makes me sad. I want more than anything to have a group of friend I can turn to no matter what. A group of individuals I can really count on to be there. People I can have a good time with, and get together with on a weekly basis. To play board games, cards, watch Lword series, or whatever. I sort of feel like I am stopping myself. I don't know why, or how. I don't even know how to go about making friends. That is pretty devastating.

We move next week. I am exciting because this feels like the last move, for a long time. I will be in a central area close to family, and lots of activities (so I stop being a home body). I will be broadcasting from SEATTLE baby! I can take a short bus ride to Westlake Center or even Pike Place Market!

I have no idea what comes next. I am walking blind into love, into life and into what comes next. My eyes are blind folded, and my heart is ready for anything to take place.

Turmoil with Food

Habit is habit and not to be flung out of the window by any man, but coaxed downstairs a step at a time. --Mark Twain

Its time to get to the core of why I'm overweight. Food has been my crack, my heroin, my meth, my cocaine, my alcohol, my family.

Having issues with weight is always about more than the food. My beliefs show up in my relationship with food. So if I'm eating when I'm not hungry or bored, I'm basically saying I can't feel these feelings. Life is too much for me (or not enough in my case). There's no goodness in my life except for food right here, right now. I'm basically eating because I've given up on something, some part of myself. You think that, 'I am so small that the pain is going to overwhelm me,' but in reality the truth is you've already experienced that pain.

And what food does at that point is it doubles your pain, rather than make it go away. You're still in pain about what you were in pain about before you ate, but now you've added a whole level of more discomfort which is: 'Oh, I can't believe I ate this. What's wrong with me? Am I ever going to get my life together?' Then you're feeling like a failure on top of the discomfort you were feeling before.

Most people who are not over weight do not understand that food, to us, is an addiction. I am addicted to food. We use food to 'Numb out'. We use it to cover our feelings, our boredom.

I have never been a religious individual, more spiritual. When I refer to 'God' I refer to something that is bigger. We each have this longing—we've had moments of awe and wonder in our lives. A lot of us don't call that God, but we know that something is possible for every one of us besides our daily lives. The way we get caught with errands and taking care of other people. We feel that this possibility exists, wonder and mystery and possibility ... or the feeling you have in nature. The feeling that everything is possible. I have learned that my relationship with food is directly related to how close I am to the source. The issue isn't really the food. It is about my disconnection from that which is real which we call 'God'. Real = God Life = God

We turn to food as an obsession, addiction. Obsession gives you something to do besides have your heart shattered by heart-shattering events or emotions. The emotional struggle that accompanies overeating is familiar, whereas the "heart-shattering events" are often new and raw. We are afraid that the pain will destroy us. Or the heartbreak, or the discomfort even. We don't actually know that we can feel those feelings without being destroyed by them. Getting up and living day-to-day and going through the stuff of day-to-day, that's difficult. But somehow we believe that food is cushioning it.

Conquering issues with weight starts with learning to love yourself. How do I start looking at myself and loving myself? Kindness.

You might ask, 'What made you come to this conclusion?'. What really clicked was recognizing that going to the food hasn't been working and that what I've been looking for isn't in the food. So what I am trying to get rid of and what I am trying to not feel, it didn't help to be eating over it. The other thing that clicked was that there is a whole lot of pain there to look at. I need to look at some of the layers, recognizing some of the beliefs that are keeping me at the weight where I am. Those beliefs, are that I'm not good enough, that nobody likes me and that nobody would accept me the way I am. Being overweight feels like a disability. I am still a person, a human, just like you. I wish people could see that.

Growing up as a child was so hard, what I'm really feeling is every time I have ever been beaten by my father. Every time my step mom told me that I was ugly. That I would never find someone to love me if I was over weight. That over weight individuals do not deserve love. She looks at me with disgust, hatred almost. What I recognize as I'm stuffing myself with the burgers, sandwiches, is I still have that feeling of if I don't do what pleased the other person, then somehow that person has the power to annihilate me. I've been so intimidated by someone who isn't even in my life anymore.

We somehow believe that if we hate ourselves enough, if we shame ourselves enough, we'll end up thin, happy, peaceful people. Somehow if I torture myself enough, I'll end up feeling great about myself and about my life, as if hatred leads to love and torture leads to contentment.

Does that make sense at all?! Hell to the No!

It's time to start loving myself, treating myself.

Guilt & Regret

Make the most of your regrets; never smother your sorrow, but tend and cherish it till it comes to have a separate and integral interest. To regret deeply is to live afresh. – Henry David Thoreau

I used to think that guilt and regret went hand in hand... The emotions of guilt and regret are often so inextricably linked that it's hard to tell the difference between the two. Subtle as it is, there is a difference between feeling guilty and feeling regretful. In order to fix mistakes or move forward emotionally, we need to be able to differentiate between the two.

Recently I had a different perspective on guilt being presented to me. Lama Samten from the Buddhist Monastery Karma Choeling, north of Auckland, said that he has had difficulties understanding the exact meaning of feeling guilty. Someone who grew up in Tibet knows regret, but does not feel guilty. Lama Samten suggested that feeling guilty might be based on the assumption that at the time we would have had the power or capacity to do things differently. When we feel guilty, we overestimate ourselves.

Examine the motive of the event, experience or decision that is causing you to feel this way. Motive is important when trying to differentiate between regret and guilt. If what you have done was done in order to cause another person pain or harm, then the feeling you are experiencing is guilt not regret.

Listen to your words or thoughts for the words "I wish." These words often indicate you are feeling regretful that something turned out as it did or didn't turn out the way you had hoped. Regretfulness occurs when you've inadvertently acted or made a decision that caused harm or pain and you wish you could change it.

Regret gives us the option to make up if we hurt another person, it allows for a softening that is necessary in asking for forgiveness. When we make ourselves feel guilty, on the other hand, we intensify our suffering and often harden.

After differentiating the two... I feel regret. I am guilty of many things, but never have I felt regret. To me regret is almost worse than guilt. Regret is knowing that I did something wrong, even though at the time I had no control over what had occured, I wish with all my being that I could have gone back. I could have done something different.

I regret that I left my brother and sister alone with that devil of a man we call father. dad. uku. The parent. I was only about 13, 1999. There was so much going on. I regret being put into foster care and leaving them alone in his care. I don't remember if I ever asked them if they were okay. I don't remember if I ever told them how much I loved them, and how sorry I was. I only remember the looks in their eyes, begging me to come home. A year later I did.

2010, 11 years later and I still feel such regret. Such sadness. Such pain. The only thing I can do is ask for their forgiveness.

Will they forgive me?

A Tribute to Kylie Elizabeth

A beautiful girl was taken to heaven four years ago today. She never took a breath here with us, but I know she blows kisses to us from heaven. Every year I post the poem that I wrote for her and read for her at her funeral. I find peace knowing that Kylie is watching over her two sisters. I find peace knowing that my sisters daughter is the guardian Angel watching over them.

Happy Birthday Kylie! Auntie Loves you!
(picture taken this year by my sister)

Kylie lived her life with in my sisters womb.
Years like minutes cannot last for too long, locked within that juicy tomb.
Let those who mourn remember she died,
In sweet communion with her soul inside.
Eearly in the pregnancy we felt you kick and move,

Eager to greet you, never thought so soon.
Life is a burst of joy and pain, and then like yours its done,

In our thoughts you'll always be the sparkle in the sun.

Zero breaths did you take when you entered earth,

Although you looked so angelic in your still birth.

But now we have to let you go, your spirit can be free,

Everyone will hold you near their hearts, where you will always be.

Tiny little baby, at home where you belong,

Here we gather to rejoice in tears, as we listen to the flutter of your fragile wings song.

Hell is for Children, Part Dos

Last night I started rummaging. I could not sleep. I have not been able to sleep the past few days. I am not sure why. I just lay awake, thinking. *sigh*

Whilst rummaging I found an old diary. It was an old 'Prayer of Jabez Journal'. Every page was scribbled on. I have the worst had writing ever. Between the old soggy pages of my past life were pages that had been torn out of another journal and stuffed in, as if trying to shove the memories back into place. I started to read the old scribble of a 13 year old girl, and I became quite emotional. This of course did not help with the not being able to sleep situation. I just find this all quite odd. One or more of the entries I found were actually from the time the domestic violence took place in my previous blog entry. I will now share a few exerts.

12-25-1999

"As my first entry in this journal I got today for Christmas I am going to tell you how I'm feeling.

I feel as though the world is ending. As the sky is falling. All theses fights, wars & arguments is putting me in a tough spot. Being the creation of God (good) and the daughter of Cris (evil). If it wasn't for Adam and Eve this thing we call life, this place we live in called the world was once perfect. We all come together to create peace and we shall once again have peace.

God is great, yet the one's he created are far from this. I guess you can call us Evil."

1-19-2000

"Today Ka'aka stopped by. I was kind of scared because I thought dad would get angry... HE WAS. My dad accused me of whispering to Ka'aka. I did not though. She whispered to me and I only whispered back 'What?'.

Dad never trusts me... Probably never will. I feel lonely, and afraid. Afraid I will not be close to my dad and lonely because I mourn for a friend.... My Dad, I love him so much, but does he love me??"

1-29-2000

"talk about having a bad day. First of all I woke up at about 9:01am and made breakfast in bed for dad & Kat. then everyone else. Dad got mad and hour or two later because he couldn't find a cigarette. He told Michael and Job to go find a cigarette and not to come back with out one. Then he made Shuston Nalia and I open up every box until we found his Tobacco. Then Shuston asked Kat if dad hit her, but Kat said 'No, You don't have to worry about that'. I guess dad overheard because he got mad and told us to get out of his house. So we walked from 32nd of Maku'u to Railroad of Kaloli. Talk about an exhausting day."

2-5-2000

"Well today went okay until the ending of the afternoon. Me, Michael, Shuston, Nalia and Job got grumpy and got into some loud arguments. Michael and I got in trouble, me more though. Dad hit me twice in the face (gave me a fat bloody lip) Then knocked me in my forehead. He hit Shuston once in the face and hit Michael three times and twisted his arm. I thought it was about to snap. I should of stayed in foster care, but Michael and Shuston held me back, because I love them so much. God help us, oh God please help us-- send someone, gramma, anyone."

_______________________________________

Wow... Emotional right? It is like re-living those days over again. I even flinch to this day. I do not know what I am looking for. I do not know what this is going to become. I just want someone to hear my story. I want the whole fucking world to hear my story. Most of all I want all the little girls and boys out there to know, that they can make it. They can make it out. If I did, they can. It will take courage, because the fear and guilt will be so overwhelming they will smother you like a plastic bag over your head. Sometimes you be close to giving up. NEVER GIVE UP. Just reach your hand out, and eventually some one will grab you, and pull you to safety. Save yourself, so you can save others. The love that I had for my brother and sister, the dire need to protect and care for them is what got me out, what kept me alive.