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serafaerysometimes I am reminded that other people have parents (like they post a photo of lunch with them or something) and I'm like lololololol people with parents what's that like?!?!?!??! lolololooooooooool buncha weirdos.
My parents died destitute, helpless, in unspeakable pain, and very sick. Like my grandparents, like pretty much everyone else in my family. (My brother is still alive but seems to be doing everything he can to follow in their footsteps in this way, including low-key stealing money from me and then acting like I'm selfish and I owe them when I try to stop it from happening. My father at least never did this. He never hurt me in any way that I can remember, aside from leaving, getting sick, and dying, none of which do I blame him for.)
sometimes i forget that it makes sense that i have mood disorders and a very chaotic and painful inner world. i don't know anyone in my situation who doesn't. doing this sober is a total headtrip (i recognize the irony in that sentiment). even if my life is good now, there is a deep, deep current of trauma underneath my attempt to embrace gratitude at every moment.
and I am so, so, ever so grateful. For Josh, for Finley, for my friends, for silks, for my job and the people who come to me for sparkles, for the magic that is all around me.
I also have beautiful moments of remembering times when my mom or dad showed me tons of love. They did their very best, they tried so hard. Mom worked hard to give me a better life than she had. To give me a chance to make something of myself. And she succeeded. I see so much of her in the thread of magic that runs through my life, so much of this is in thanks to her, same for my dad and his bravery in estranging himself from such an abusive family, and for insulating me from that. I am forever grateful to both of them and I miss them desperately, every day, the grief hits me in hard waves full of rocks that bruise and scrape and silt that blinds and chokes and seaweed that strangles and tangles. I flounder, I panic, I resurface, I gasp for air, and I keep living.
Through it all, I see this thread of magic, it is interwoven with unicorn colors and so much sparkling beauty, it's fluid and dynamic and cheerful and sweet and carries me along, a mix of love and joy and playfulness and serendipity and luck and brightness and I am in constant awe of how it could be that this is the vibration the universe casually tossed me into without a care. How could I possibly be so fortunate, to experience this much beauty and magic and warmth and gentleness and prettiness and bliss? It does not feel like I was selected, it feels like a happy accident. All of creation feels like a happy accident (with some less happy side effects), to me, right now.
My parents died destitute, helpless, in unspeakable pain, and very sick. Like my grandparents, like pretty much everyone else in my family. (My brother is still alive but seems to be doing everything he can to follow in their footsteps in this way, including low-key stealing money from me and then acting like I'm selfish and I owe them when I try to stop it from happening. My father at least never did this. He never hurt me in any way that I can remember, aside from leaving, getting sick, and dying, none of which do I blame him for.)
sometimes i forget that it makes sense that i have mood disorders and a very chaotic and painful inner world. i don't know anyone in my situation who doesn't. doing this sober is a total headtrip (i recognize the irony in that sentiment). even if my life is good now, there is a deep, deep current of trauma underneath my attempt to embrace gratitude at every moment.
and I am so, so, ever so grateful. For Josh, for Finley, for my friends, for silks, for my job and the people who come to me for sparkles, for the magic that is all around me.
I also have beautiful moments of remembering times when my mom or dad showed me tons of love. They did their very best, they tried so hard. Mom worked hard to give me a better life than she had. To give me a chance to make something of myself. And she succeeded. I see so much of her in the thread of magic that runs through my life, so much of this is in thanks to her, same for my dad and his bravery in estranging himself from such an abusive family, and for insulating me from that. I am forever grateful to both of them and I miss them desperately, every day, the grief hits me in hard waves full of rocks that bruise and scrape and silt that blinds and chokes and seaweed that strangles and tangles. I flounder, I panic, I resurface, I gasp for air, and I keep living.
Through it all, I see this thread of magic, it is interwoven with unicorn colors and so much sparkling beauty, it's fluid and dynamic and cheerful and sweet and carries me along, a mix of love and joy and playfulness and serendipity and luck and brightness and I am in constant awe of how it could be that this is the vibration the universe casually tossed me into without a care. How could I possibly be so fortunate, to experience this much beauty and magic and warmth and gentleness and prettiness and bliss? It does not feel like I was selected, it feels like a happy accident. All of creation feels like a happy accident (with some less happy side effects), to me, right now.
