Verbal Bully

Capture

I am a bigger “mess” than I thought. I always took pride in helping and caring for others but never realized and saw for every “good” I did, I destroyed it by being negative and hurtful to others. I was always great at “reading” people for the bullshit and drama they do/did and had no chill when it came to being blunt and “honest” in my views of you.

I never understood why people labeled me a verbal bully especially if it was a situation when we were all cracking rude and mean jokes. I was the only person who never knew when to stop. I always went too far. Now that I know, I feel ashamed.

I knew I was swimming in the “negativity” pool but never noticed I actually drowned. Today, I took the time to read past posts and saw the same negativity. Maybe that’s why I fell the way I did in life so I can get see my faults and get my shit together.

I guess in a sick and twisted way, I became my (nemesis) “adopted” mother’s daughter. Now that I know I have hurt people and now that I truly know I was a verbal bully, I have begun the process to change that. Little by little, I am beginning to see things clearer. I always wanted people to “save” me but how can they save me when I’ve refused to acknowledge I was drowning instead of swimming?

My heart has been consumed with so much hate. I know I have gone through a lot in my life but it is no excuse for my actions especially when I wanted love, happiness and friendship. Even though I have lost a lot of friends along the way, I am ready to start anew and will make sure to not repeat the same cycles. Even if I have to excuse myself during “mean-spirited” sessions of talking about others.

I apologize spiritually from my soul to those I have hurt and hope the universe will forgive for my wrongdoings.

The End

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I’m Not Ashamed 

  

I’m not ashamed I am battling mental illness.I’m not ashamed than I am not “normal” and that nothing in my life has ever been easy or came to me on any type of platter.

I’m not ashamed that I’ve had to hustle for what seems like “little” to others and everything to me.

I’m not ashamed that all I’ve ever wanted out of life is to be loved and valued by others.

I’m not ashamed that there have been thousands of nights I’ve cried myself to sleep and thousands of morning I woke up in tears.

I’m not ashamed that I don’t know how to love and hope that one day someone can teach me.

I’m not ashamed that I may have missed out on good relationships because I know I am extremely hard to deal with and every “great” guy will not able to deal with me.

I’m not ashamed of my screw ups in life sometimes you have to make sacrifices in order to survive. 

I’m not ashamed that I walk this earth alone with no family.

I’m not ashamed that I usually spend my holidays alone with leftover Chinese food fantasying about spending my holidays with a make believe husband and family. 

I’m not ashamed to be in the skin I’m in. For I was created with a purpose just not sure what.

I’m not ashamed that I’ve told lies in life but who hasn’t? The funny thing is the truth has been valued as lies and lies have been valued as truth.

I’m not ashamed that I don’t smile. Not really sure “how” or “why” I should.

I’m not ashamed that I think I am crazy/beautiful. The only thing I pray is that I don’t harm myself or screw my life up.

I’m not ashamed that those “friends” I cared for went out of their way to hurt me mentally, physically and tried to ruin my reputation.

I’m not ashamed that I was kidnapped as a child from my country by a mentally and physically abusive woman.

I’m not ashamed that all my life I dealt with others mentally and physically abusing me, parents who were functional crackheads, and not being loved as a child/teenager.

I’m not ashamed that I’ve never been able to admit to anyone the “true” home I grew up in out of shame and out of refusing to be that typical black girl.

I’m not ashamed that I want to seek help and overcome my mental illness 

But honestly speaking, I don’t know if I really want help…

I’m not ashamed to admit that I don’t think God loves me or cares for me because of the cards that he dealt me so I have a hard time believing in him and his existence. 

They say only “God” can judge me but I’ve been judged my entire life and I judge others…

Like I said “I’m not ASHAMED” 

A Letter to My Mother 

  
Dear Mommy Dearest,
I am writing this letter to you to let you know I am letting go of my past. My entire childhood and young adulthood I begged for your love, I begged for your acceptance. I always wanted you to be proud of me. I want to know from you that I was beautiful, that I was smart but most importantly, I wanted to know you loved me.

After I left home, I was damaged, scarred and lonely. I invested my time into wanting to be loved, wanting to be accepted and wanting to be beautiful that I victimized myself in hopes of fulfilling those needs. 

Maybe you weren’t proud of me, maybe you truly didn’t love me and maybe I am/was ugly to you. But I always thought it was a mother’s duty to instill values, morals, love and things to make them grow up to better than they were at a young age.
You made me believe my dreams were stupid, you made me believe I would never be worthy of no man, love and success. I begged and I cried for your love and attention.

Even at 34, I am still begging for that. 
The difference is this time, I’m learning to love me, I am learning to accept who I am and I am learning that because of you… I went most of my life with this black cloud over my head.
I’m done with storm and I just want you to know, I accept my childhood for what it was worth, I accept you as the only mother I knew growing up and I’m letting go of all of the negative attributes and pain, you caused me. I forgive you, I love you and now I’m letting go of my past.
I will no longer continue to harbor resentment for you. I will no longer continue to spend my life looking for acceptance and love from others. Because I am proud of the woman I became. Through all of the pain, the demons, and the storms. I survived! I made it! It wasn’t easy and my life still isn’t perfect but I am no longer a victim of my past….
 

Spiritual Encounter

   

About a week ago, a friend’s mom passed away. He was devastated and was in disbelief that she was gone at the age of 59.

Because of my family history and not having a relationship with my mom, I had no words of sympathy for him. 

One afternoon, I fell asleep on the couch, I had this dream of being in someone’s bedroom.

In the dream, I looked into this mirror and made a comment “if a ghost is around, you would be able to see them in a mirror”. I spun around the room a few times. 

After I was done spinning in the reflection was a bed with antique mirror headboard. 

Next to the bed was an alarm clock, with porcelain white dolls. The radio was playing rap music (I think) all of a sudden, the station changed to an am station that consisted of nothing but static.

The next thing I know this olive skin woman touched my left shoulder with her left hand. 

I shouted “I don’t do this ghost shit” I hollered this in my dream several times. 

After I woke up, it hit me. The woman who I saw was my friend’s mom and I was in her bedroom.

Even though, my friend is mourning his mom… I texted him some chilling questions which left him shocked and confused as to how I got that info.

I have never met his mom nor have I been to her house.

Gifted or not, the spirit world scares me..

His mom wanted me to tell him, she did not suffer.

I saw some pictures in the dream but he has no clue about those.

If I am gifted, why am I so afraid of it?

And can it bring “good”? 

This is not the first time, I’ve had dreams of this sort. 

Every time I encounter them this feel like a static force.

No matter how hard I try to talk or scream or fight to wake up from these encounters they are strong and it touches my lips and hold my arms to keep me from jumping out.

I’ve even had premonitions that has come true from relationships breaking up to getting terminated from my job.

Does anyone have any advice or resources that will help me to understand this…..gift?! 

A Little Note

Understand, i am a woman….not to be confused with being a “whore”, a “groupie”, a “side piece” or a quick “fuck”. Therefore, when you approach me, approach with the respect and mannerism, you would approach your mother or grandmother. Do not speak to me in a sexual manner or assume because I will go out on a date with you that i will end the night fucking you. Thanks to the degrade in self-respect and self-pride of women these days, men have forgotten the proper way to talk to a woman. If the only conversation we can engage in consist of sexual matters or celebrity gossip then we dont need to talk. I am not the female on youtube making twerk videos, I am not the female on social media posing in every picture with my ass out. Why? because that is not who i am and feel I shouldnt have to expose myself to be considered beautiful. Please understand I dont find penis pics or self-pleasing videos as sexy. I am at a stage in my life where I am seeking a man of quality and respect not a teenage boy in a grown man’s body asking as if he is going through puberty. Is social media the blame for this?

Image

Relish Rudd

Pray for our children

As a woman who was kidnapped as a child I am glad My abductor kidnapped me because she was unable to bare her own children and wanted a chance at motherhood..even though my abductor abused me and attempted to harm me I am truly grateful to be alive today. The picture that you see is of a beautiful little girl who was kidnapped some time ago. If you live in the DC Metro area then this angel’s face is familiar to you. About two weeks ago a woman was killed in a motel. The woman killed was the ex-wife of the man who abducted this little girl. An amber alert was issued for the vehicle the murderer and the child was last seen in…the car has since been recovered but the child remains missing…a 51 year man, by the name Tatum, was a janitor at a homeless shelter where Relisha (little girl shown) and her mom lived. The little girl was missing a few days before the mother thought to report her missing, the child seen comfortable in the presence of this man, who I am beginning to believe was her dad. In the surveillance video they showed of Relisha and this man, she had no fear. Kind of in the fashion a little girl walking with her daddy would have. New evidence has surfaced that Tatum called the little girl’s school pretending to be a doctor and stating she has not been in school due to her being sick. I find it hard to believe that an elementary school would honor a doctor’s call without requesting proper documentation…the mother sits in front of the media with fake concern and care but is bold enough to think she is innocent in the matter and it’s not her fault that her daughter was kidnapped. This trifling bitch belongs in jail. She sits on IG talking about living her life, liking and commenting on her friends photos. But her child is missing. During the news coverage of this story, I started to notice how much the little girl favors the man who kidnapped her. Could he be her father? And if he is, why would he kidnap his own child? Personally if this monster was capable to kill his ex-wife in a motel I believe he killed this precious little girl. He was caught on camera buying trash bags and lime…..I hope he is caught soon and the mother needs to be arrested and charged with neglect and being an accessory to kidnapping and if they find the child dead…the mother should also face murder charges. This world has gone mad when innocent children are killed for no reason. To Relisha Rudd’s mother may satan make you his personal bitch n torture you and your soul for all eternity!

Black beauty

I am sitting here looking at myself in the mirror and reminiscing how far I’ve come with “self-acceptance”. I remember a time when I couldn’t face myself in the mirror. I hated the ugly dark skinned black bitch who stood before me so much that on several occasions I would destroy my mirrors in hopes of destroying her. It didn’t help much having a mother who always told me “my blackness will never be beautiful”. She complained how I was too dark, my head was too big and how ugly I was. My mom would even go to the extremes to point out other little girls who she thought was beautiful and wished they were her daughter instead of me…(did I mention I’m adopted?) I read the book “the bluest eye”. By Toni Morrison and found myself relating to the little girl in the book. I always enjoyed writing and wrote a prayer to god asking him for blue eyes, light skin, dimples and curly hair and despised god for a long time for hating me so much he refused to answer my prayers. I didn’t have many blacks friends so I hoped that by hanging around other nationalities some of their characteristics would rub off on me. Needless to say it didn’t happen lol. I fought for so many years trying to accept my darkness, my big head and lips and it doesn’t help when the media especially black media and stars idolizes the beauty of light skinned women. I’ve even considered bleaching my skin. One morning I woke up with a “fuck it” attitude and decided every morning I would look at myself in mirror and tell myself “I am beautiful” and “being dark is not ugly”. I swear being me ain’t easy. But no matter what others think of me…”My Caribbean Black is BEAUTIFUL”