|
This week has been all about challenging the concept of FLOW. Whether it was the block in my cash flow or the insistent run and flow of my tears. I cried all week from frustration, raw realizations and a very painful stage of growing that I am working my way through. Moving forward in our lives is HARD. Whether we are moving forward from a past career, home, friendships, relationships, or idea we held onto for way too long... Or we are moving spiritually into a deeper place that feels REALLY lonely. Moving feels a whole lot like being sucked into great, white rapids with no recollection of how to swim or close our mouths. Tonight I sit in the flow of my tears because my body is SWIRLING with trauma and sadness, fears and resentments. I realize I have things locked up inside of me that need to be CUT LOOSE. I need to GROW with a FLOW that is aligned with my passions. But this takes effort and deep digging into the core of my emotional issues. In order to remember how to swim ----> I have to revisit memories of all the times I SURVIVED by pushing out the bad from my life. I have to remember TRAUMA and look it in the face. I came to the conclusion today that I am afraid to get on video because I will have to look trauma right in the eyes and I am afraid to. There is a broken girl staring back at me in the camera. With wet eyes, dull skin, and a head that hangs in defeat. And she knows it....  She holds tight onto the weights of pain left from her mother and father abandoning her after years of abuse. She holds tight onto the rejection from her exs who used gas lighting, manipulation, and having affairs as a way to denounce her worth on a regular basis. And ghosted her to keep her in her place until they finally discarded her. She is ashamed. Hunched over. Washed out. And she feels like she is stuck. I did not want to see her because I feel bad for her. But at the same time, resentful. I want to thrive and in my head all these dreams blossom daily. I picture big things and beautiful achievements. But this depressed, heavy, sad girl just lingers around and keeps my growth on pause. I want to scream at her.. In fact, most of today I did. Until I saw her eyes looking at me and realized that is all she expects of me. She perpetuates her worst nightmares and i react to them accordingly. Judgement. Anger. Screaming. Taunting. I am my own worst enemy. So tonight, while catching tears and fears, I have chosen to stare at myself. To take a really hard look. And in the silence of our eyes locking, I say "it's ok." And I release it all. The flow of tears and aching that has longed to come out. "It's ok."
I did not REALLY comprehend what it meant to have an alcoholic mother. I did not SEE that my ex who I got pregnant with in high school chose to break me on purpose. That he was also very sick and had addictions that mirrored my parents' problems. I did not HAVE the awareness of all the choices I made that kept me close to abuse and trauma...that I had trained myself to LOVE the abuse. I have been angry with her because I felt younger me SHOULD HAVE known. But when you grow up with no one loving you in a healthy way, you crave any touch or attention just to get a small crumb of what love could feel like. "It's ok" if the roller coaster affection and rejection seemed a whole lot like being chosen and special. Because now I know better. Now, at almost 29, i see it all. And I see that part of me who is so scared to shine because she does not believe in herself at all. I have to be the light, I decide. The one who loves her. The one who loves me now. Even if I have broken pieces inside of myself. I want people to see it all. I want to be brave. I want to challenge the concept of "whole" ----> to sit with all of you who are broken and tell you ... "It's ok." We can show up in pieces. We can shine even if we flicker. I am going to start doing videos. Taking pictures. Staring more at mirrors and doing self care rituals to show my broken shadow that I love her. And that we will get through this. I will show up now even if my only audience watching is that young, broken girl. I hope I make her proud. - J.S. Jaded Savior
It's been a rough week.
I have felt huge waves of emotions, a lot of doubt in who I am and what my purpose is in this life. But something amazing has also occurred. I have found my Trauma-voice. And have given her a secret name. I now know when she talks to me. And when the voice starts talking, it sounds a little like this:
I developed a relationship with my inner voice when I was a child. I have trusted her for so long, not knowing she was separate from who I POTENTIALLY am. Not knowing that present me often argues with something inside my head that is not even "me". It is just a ball of energy and smoke, a spirit filled with fears and flashbacks from the hardest times in my life. Though the emotions within it were once very real, they are all a thing of the past. I am no longer caught in a war zone. I no longer get abused by my parents or manipulated and hurt by my exs. I am safe. I am present, so long as I separate myself from that voice. Trauma is NOT me. She was wounded repeatedly by emotional abuse and horrible physical assaults. She was scarred by unstable relationships and unpredictable moods. I think for quite some time now, I have known that this voice MUST be separate from "me" because everytime I hit my low points or I am put in a triggering situation ----> I fight my way past it. This week, in the midst of chaotic kids and a horrible stomach virus, this voice was so loud and it screamed for me to just drop everything. To stop trying. To ignore the world. To sleep. "But for how long?" I begged to know. "Who cares"...it whispered. And in an instant, like waking out of a dream in a cold sweat, I realized the separation from her and I. In fact, I severed it. And I spoke to it with some heavy truths. "I am so capable. I am able to do whatever I want to do. I am on the right path. I can feel it. I trust it." Trust in myself ----> that was the blade that cut me free. I know I will keep hearing this inner voice. This shadow of doubt. I know she is scared and defenseless. Someone long ago created her. And in a way, that was a gift. I have been protected from some potentially deadly situations because I did not take the risk. I have been able to stay alert, hyper-vigilant, and scan the people around me in order to draw out potential abusers. But it has not been a fail proof system. Her fears let me know it is flawed. I still took some risks and chances, but always dancing around the safety line. I have feared growing bigger because of her. I have told myself before that sharing my story is dangerous. That I am just creating a road map with tourist stops and pleasure hotels for abusers to reside in <------------ She is still scared of being hurt again and thinks that growth = exposure. But I want exposure. I am tired of walking around with these stories burrowed deep into my body. Making my back ache, my neck sore, my shoulders tense, my knees weak. I am tired of the fears and pain surging through my veins, keeping me up at night and fencing me in from potential growth --------> I know growth also means healing. Trauma has been telling me all along that it is not safe to even begin to heal. She had it all wrong. In order for me to heal, I need to walk through the belly of the beast. I need to be brave, vulnerable and trusting with myself that I can take the journey back through my timeline and correct the end result of who I am to become. Healing = Transcendence She will never be ready for that, and now that I know this I can do what I do best. I can silence her in love and I can push myself forward. Life is all about choices. My Trauma and PTSD have damaged pieces of me that were not even aware they became dormant. I have disassociated with the most painful of recollections and that has held me back from seeking out the highest platforms of my potential. I am ready to step outside of all of the former fears, because the truth is nothing can possibly be scary if I have not even tried it yet. In fact, scary does not even exist. It is simply the unknown that I seek. I will have triggers to tackle -- like loathing and despair, irrationality, and complacency. All of them not speaking but tapping on my heart. And it will require more rough days ahead. But the fight is worth it. J.S. Jaded Savior JADED SAVIOR: Speak your truths Trauma and Healing. #bethelight  I want to speak about what my goals and purpose are with my blog Jaded Savior since I have gained clarity and purpose recently. I will start off by saying that I am a 28-year-old stay at home mom and my passion is writing to empower. I am NOT a coach. I am NOT a healer. But my "inner circle" of friends since I began in May has been comprised of coaches, healers, mentors, educators, directors and writers from all walks of life ---> MOSTLY from an old path of Trauma. I have PTSD + Depression + Anxiety and constant flashbacks/nightmares stemming from childhood abuse and trauma memories I have stuck in my brain. I decided in May to STOP dragging around daily feeling miserable, to stop oversleeping and overeating my emotions away. I decided to STOP having ZERO boundaries with my friendships + in my marriage + with my kids and most importantly, with myself. I realized from a twitter post that I had CPTSD + A complex PTSD that is caused by prolonged abuse, usually child abuse. I was born into a marriage built by drugs, codependence, emotional and physical abuse / domestic violence AND mental illness. I did not know until I was in my early twenties and was already living on my own, that my parents were BOTH bipolar and self-medicating---> That my father was HOMELESS, doing heroin, and Schizophrenic. That both were delusional and completely sick people who could never have handled being a self-sufficient adult let alone a parent to me. I was out of their lives since 16 but they were never actually present as parents. I just "lived with parents". I was always self-sufficient but it took until getting pregnant as a teenager and having to figure my life out for A BABY that I gained some awareness. And freedom. Now I am married to someone wonderful and have 2 more kids within this marriage. I raise all 3 from home and I write daily about my life experiences. I have always ACTUALLY been an extrovert. A person who could walk into a room and say whatever I wanted to, who could simply sit next to someone and say "Hi, want to be my friend." This blog I created started off as a platform to share my own stories. I wanted to write them publicly so that other people who can relate would feel validated... because empowerment is awesome. BUT, I began writing on social media as well as my blog for Accountability. To have something of my own. SOMETHING to LIVE for. And while people who have no clue what depression feels like would say "but you live for your babies and your husband" I would say that going from a dysfunctional childhood to being on my own for years ----> Entering marriage and becoming a housewife FELT FUCKING SCARY. AND HARD. Having to trust, compromise, listen to, speak to, and dwell with someone ----> Share my KIDS with someone. It was all really hard. Realizing I married someone who is not emotional or deep in their feelings, who does not know the psychological effects of Trauma on a person or what living with someone who has PTSD is like... HOLY SHIT. It was all hard. But writing has been easy. I realize all these years I lacked awareness and did not start healing because I was sick. Not healthy. I was suffering from the effects of Trauma. I did not have a rational brain. I did not have the skills to self diagnose or treat. So I sure as shit did not trust counselors, hated the social workers I met who went by textbook procedures and would not look me in the eye, and fucking social services who treated me like I was the dirt of dirt for being young, broke and a mother. I never wanted to get help before and this past spring, it took all of me to tell my husband of 4 years that I was miserable and deeply crippled by depression. I could not wake up on time ever or make appointments. I was highly unorganized and frantic. I was always short of breath and literally grabbing at my chest to breathe. I had no concept of time and did not know the difference spacially between 1 hour or 6 hours. I was in my own bubble. IT FELT HORRIBLE to have to say to someone else that I felt incapable of caring for my kids daily or being a wife. MY PARENTS were incapable. Irresponsible. Shitty. Angry. Selfish. Sick. This was a huge trigger for me... was I like them? BUT, I really needed to just pick myself up and START getting my shit together. I needed an education. To figure out with my own resources and skills, to get on a fucking computer and do a google search of "WTF is wrong with me." That first crucial step in taking a stand, telling myself I know things are not right, and then finding out why ----> That was the catalyst for this blog. I have always leaned on art and writing since I was a child. I wanted to draw late into the night in my bedroom while my mom and her husband fought when things got really bad. I drew and I wrote more than I did actual homework or socializing with other kids. It saved me. But I was always triggered to art or draw when I felt stress. Another indicator I was not healthy. The past few months I grew from writing my past to writing about my present. As I quickly figure myself out, as I become more self-aware, my art and creativity take off like a FIRE CRACKER. 8 months ago, I wouldn't get out of bed before 10 and I locked myself in the bathroom 3 or 4 times a day to cry. 6 months ago I said FUCK THIS and began to make healthy changes day by day. I have decided now that I want to create my blog as a RESOURCE CENTER for education, healing information, Lists of Professional holistic healers/coaches, healthy diet and lifestyle changes you can make to improve mental health issues ------> CREATIVE Ideas and inspirations to use art and writing as ways to awaken. Even heal. So who am I? What do I do? I am someone who has risen many times over, like a Phoenix, from SHIT to GROWTH. Who has dealt with the lemons....And I decided instead of trying to make lemonade..I want to grow a forest of lemon trees. And teach anyone who is willing to learn how to grow them to. Self-sufficiency + education + resources + self-awareness. I want to honor my healing journey publicly while also growing a website that is like stepping into the woods of wisdom. For trauma VICTIMS who feel disassociated and need a SHAKE to survivors who NEED a safe place to STAND UP. I support and hold love for all the healers and coaches I know. I know as I teach self-sufficiency, I also break through barriers and blocks with people -----> So they can ACTUALLY FEEL READY because of their own initial efforts to BEGIN. Getting help from a professional can either be devastating or amazing. I am excited to get into a place in my life and mindset where I can start working with healers of all kinds. And then be able to share those experiences (maybe on Youtube, who knows) to make people aware of what is OUT THERE and how it feels. I want to be a beacon of light for people who feel lost and like their life is hopeless right now. Because that has been me many times over. I hope those who see and follow my website, not just my Facebook posts ---> WILL LOVE and UTILIZE what is to come! This is for "us".
How many of you have felt triggered and don't take selfies, show your talents or sell what you are good at ----> because trauma taught you to not SHOW UP or be conceited? So when you see these ladies with photography defaults and professional cover photos, posting about authenticity and personal growth -----> you think "oh god that is so FAKE." Or maybe you just feel it is ok for them, but that you will never be them. It is NOT YOU to put on lashes and lipstick, to send voice memos.... to do a live video. Because wtf would you do and who even wants to know about it?Because you are a different level or maybe you believe a lower station. You cannot imagine posting images of yourself because you feel awkward AF. In fact the shower curtain behind you or the mess in your living room would be a HORRIBLE setting for you to be SEEN IN. Your own space is not worthy of showing up.  And neither is your hair or face, you think to yourself. So you hide and you make very little movement or traction in your life. You do not get too outspoken or share feelings. You apologize often. And you ask others if it is ok for you to ask a question. You want to know If it would be weird for you to share your opinion. And you sure as hell make sure you hold the camera for every function, so that you will not be in any photos. Whatever shame keeps you from showing up ---> your body, your smile, your hair, your height, your imperfections, your voice, your eye contact....and many more reasons you tell yourself that no one wants to to know you. It happened somewhere in your past, when you were told "not to color your hair", "not to speak at the table", "not to dress alluring or noticeably". It happened when an ex said you wanted to just BEG for attention at work or when you go out by showing cleavage or your shoulders. It happened when your mom said only bad girls want attention. Only conceited people want to be noticed. I felt this way. Well...my whole life.  And I was unaware how deeply it ran until I started thinking my kids should not want attention. That leggings might be bad for my daughter. [I did not go thru with any of the bad thoughts though]. It happened when I became a business owner with my husband and went to networking events. I thrive being amongst people. I have a deep desire to command the room. I want to give chills and change lives by stating facts and truths...not my own proclamations. But even in that dream...I have conditions. It cannot be only my own words. Then I am a know it all. And what certifications do I have in order to have any fucking opinions? I cannot be a leader if I am not thin, sensual, and beautiful. I cannot bare it if people see my bad skin or birth markes or FAT. That 'I just had a baby' thing won't work. I can not hop on a live or prerecord because I have trouble breathing. Making eye contact. I have trouble passing as normal. Now in person, with my husband and kids, I do not shut up. I can talk and laugh and BE ME....mostly. But that voice tells me to sit the fuck down at events. That voice told me for a long time not to show up on the internet. Who the f am I to take selfies? To arrogantly quote myself in images.... To write books and deep posts..... Like my words matter?! Like I am "somebody".  Let me tell you something right now that i realized one day. ----Everyone is no one. And everyone is someone. You decide. ----- People. You decide it If you want to be seen and heard. All the people of the word who have made true change were "no one and someone". They just showed up. That is the difference between THEM. AND YOU. So, I am now showing up. I quote myself. I take fucking selfies even though I feel stupid as hell. I am learning to push through my own stupid ass barriers. What I write does matter. I have been through shit that MANY OF YOU HAVE NOT. But that is not why i write. I write because i have been through shit MANY OF YOU ALSO HAVE BEEN THROUGH. And right now, you feel SO ALONE in your shit. You feel horrible. Low. Unworthy. Scared. I'm not here to tell you who to be. But fuck right, I have now decided to take on the obligation of my awareness and tell you HOW TO BE. Be alive. Stop living on pause. Stuck. Sad. Alone. STAAAAP.  You know why we see either super fancy Facebook pages with bomb marketing----> OR someone with a pic from 2005 as their default and a cat on their cover photo? Because that is the difference between hiding and showing up. I SEE YOU NOW. I see you and I have nothing to sell you. You have to sell yourself now on the idea that living means showing up and not feeling ashamed about it. Go start shining. And update that damn photo. I want to see diversity. I want to see all sorts of people and fashions, skin tones and hair types. I want to see houses that range from PINTEREST to WRECKED. And stop apologizing for hiding. Just arrive already.
I wrote all week about being triggered by money because of growing up in poverty and always "struggling" to survive.
I notice now how openly people market their business on social media and brand but do VERY LITTLE collaborating and are often CLOSED OFF to making friends on here. We tend to think that "making friends" does not make money. We also tend to pluck out friends on our list who do not join the groups or buy into the offers we are selling. I sit here on my phone wanting to scream and just say the things in my head. Then I remember ----> Oh yeah, i am a blogger and write publicly. I can fucking say something. So here it is. Sales and corporate structures teach us to never trust a friend farther than you can throw them. To just spend our time alone in our bubble building the perfect pitch. To "get inside the minds of the consumer" to know their needs and serve it to them on a platter .... coincidently. And without making any quick movements. Without too many words. Pitch. Sell. Market. Dangle. Offer. Zoom. Well. I know a different vocabulary. Because I was poor and am still very lower class, I have built different skills that we learn on the streets. And it's these words. Greet. Befriend. Open up. Allow. Invite in. And keep. Keep them. Smile. Say hi. Make a conversation. Then another one. Say deep things, share war stories. And then, just exist in their space. No one is stupid. We learn what each other does. We know what each others talents and jobs are. On social media, they are listed. That "market your ass off" approach is so silly to me. All it is, the game you play, is survival of the fittest. Now of course the models for business are changing. This year alone, the approach of just exist and talk about who you are + what you do is picking up. But we should be responsible now for picking up the momentum. Just be. Do. Create. And share. Share your project of the day. Share that thing you love to do. Hell. Pick a thing you love to do. Surrender to the unknown. Which is also bullshit. We have ALL BEEN LIED TO. Those of us here who are poor may know better already..... that the fears and insecurities have to do with being able to care for ourselves. When you are poor and can barely feed yourself, you not only FEEL the stress of needing money.... you also feel the stress of needing love. Simplicity. Comrodery. Collaborations. You realize here in the poverty hole that we may feel stuck in here, but everyone above ground...they are the prisoners. The truth is...we ALL HAVE BILLS. We all need to make money or else we become poor. And not just poor, but "lacking". But your fears of being "lacking" cost you friendships .. How many of you have cut off or ghosted a friend because they don't buy from you? [And this is not to use you as some bad example because you are human] How many of you are triggered often as you grow your business or feel a blow to your self esteem when your marketing approaches do not work.. or are just SLOW? The thing is... our priority should be getting educated and building relationships. I do not mean college. I mean any form of knowledge. Go to the library or local book stores. Step into nature. Go watch people. Go to events. Shake hands, look people in the eyes, greet people......make friends and do not sell to them. If they ask what you do, introduce it as something YOU love. Not something THEY want. They HEAR YOU. If they want it, they will literally go for it. Next thing ----> some of us are poor. I am poor right now. I cannot afford much. We are stuck temporarily where we are at [my little family of 5] until we can make the money to move. And we fucking hated it all summer. Going no where, doing nothing, feeling inadequate as our business failed and we had to leap into other opportunities. But I decided to do a big thing and start existing. I write and I run my website because it is my passion. I am finally leaping into my passion and purpose. But now with different perspectives. I CANNOT INVEST in anything right now. I cannot join a team or buy a mascara or order home decor. I sell things I own for the money to replace my clothing. A coffee once or twice a month is a guilt trip but I do it for myself to just get out and feel treated. $2 feels like a treat. Let that sink in. I'm frugal AF. My pockets are hollow and my bank account is tiny. But my heart is huge. And I know from being poor that I need to trust myself. After a million mistakes I already made.... this is what my truths are now. Friendships, bonding, putting myself out there, showing up, trying 10000% in all my projects.. That is how I have survived. And not by begging or pleading for my worth to be met. I now know i have knowledge and gifts to impart on the world. So I am going to present them. And make money to afford the things I need. But I do not want to focus on formulas or predictions or pitches. THIS RIGHT HERE is not a pitch. I am sincerely telling you that I show up + I bond + I share + I collaborate. Whatever comes back my way from the universe, it will be whatever it is. Living with PTSD and anxiety, the control freak in me knows that marketing and sales are the catalyst for my meltdowns. For the decline in my personal health. Because when I was running a local business and my focus was on money over relationships, I was heavily declining. I was losing myself. I had no bonds. Now I know that the genuine bonds I make will be based on my boundaries and truths. My truth is I have fears but I am now ready to set them aside. To show up to the table and break bread. Long after everything else is gone or does not matter ----> I want to know I spent my life loving people. Moving people with my words. Changing lives. Not wallets. And if you feel triggered or offended by this, that is ok. That is your truth right now. But I am tired of hiding my lifestyle or riding on assumptions. I do not want to fit into your customer profile. I do not want to be a check mark on your demographics for projected sales growth this year. I want to be someone you WANT in your LIFE. If we all suddenly did not need money, if the world became free, I will know I have built my circle. I am all about sharing, helping, and supporting my friends. My circle. But I am also about saying, I'm sorry but I just can't invest or do the thing. And that is no reflection on YOUR WORTH. Or anyone's. Because it's just money. It's not love. Give yourself the chance to love someone. Something. To find passions and just exist in them. Existing is surviving. But in the long term kind of way. The way we should all be learning and practicing, so we can all be united instead of forming lunch tables or islands between one another. I want to speak about what my goals and purpose are with my blog Jaded Savior since I have gained clarity and purpose recently. I will start off by saying that I am a 28-year-old stay at home mom and my passion is writing to empower. I am NOT a coach. I am NOT a healer. But my "inner circle" of friends since I began in May has been comprised of coaches, healers, mentors, educators, directors and writers from all walks of life ---> MOSTLY from an old path of Trauma. I have PTSD + Depression + Anxiety and constant flashbacks/nightmares stemming from childhood abuse and trauma memories I have stuck in my brain. I decided in May to STOP dragging around daily feeling miserable, to stop oversleeping and overeating my emotions away. I decided to STOP having ZERO boundaries with my friendships + in my marriage + with my kids and most importantly, with myself. I realized from a twitter post that I had CPTSD + A complex PTSD that is caused by prolonged abuse, usually child abuse. I was born into a marriage built by drugs, codependence, emotional and physical abuse / domestic violence AND mental illness. I did not know until I was in my early twenties and was already living on my own, that my parents were BOTH bipolar and self-medicating---> That my father was HOMELESS, doing heroin, and Schizophrenic. That both were delusional and completely sick people who could never have handled being a self-sufficient adult let alone a parent to me. I was out of their lives since 16 but they were never actually present as parents. I just "lived with parents". I was always self-sufficient but it took until getting pregnant as a teenager and having to figure my life out for A BABY that I gained some awareness. And freedom. Now I am married to someone wonderful and have 2 more kids within this marriage. I raise all 3 from home and I write daily about my life experiences. I have always ACTUALLY been an extrovert. A person who could walk into a room and say whatever I wanted to, who could simply sit next to someone and say "Hi, want to be my friend." This blog I created started off as a platform to share my own stories. I wanted to write them publicly so that other people who can relate would feel validated... because empowerment is awesome. BUT, I began writing on social media as well as my blog for Accountability. To have something of my own. SOMETHING to LIVE for. And while people who have no clue what depression feels like would say "but you live for your babies and your husband" I would say that going from a dysfunctional childhood to being on my own for years ----> Entering marriage and becoming a housewife FELT FUCKING SCARY. AND HARD. Having to trust, compromise, listen to, speak to, and dwell with someone ----> Share my KIDS with someone. It was all really hard. Realizing I married someone who is not emotional or deep in their feelings, who does not know the psychological effects of Trauma on a person or what living with someone who has PTSD is like... HOLY SHIT. It was all hard. But writing has been easy. I realize all these years I lacked awareness and did not start healing because I was sick. Not healthy. I was suffering from the effects of Trauma. I did not have a rational brain. I did not have the skills to self diagnose or treat. So I sure as shit did not trust counselors, hated the social workers I met who went by textbook procedures and would not look me in the eye, and fucking social services who treated me like I was the dirt of dirt for being young, broke and a mother. I never wanted to get help before and this past spring, it took all of me to tell my husband of 4 years that I was miserable and deeply crippled by depression. I could not wake up on time ever or make appointments. I was highly unorganized and frantic. I was always short of breath and literally grabbing at my chest to breathe. I had no concept of time and did not know the difference spatially between 1 hour or 6 hours. I was in my own bubble. IT FELT HORRIBLE to have to say to someone else that I felt incapable of caring for my kids daily or being a wife. MY PARENTS were incapable. Irresponsible. Shitty. Angry. Selfish. Sick. This was a huge trigger for me... was I like them? BUT, I really needed to just pick myself up and START getting my shit together. I needed an education. To figure out with my own resources and skills, to get on a fucking computer and do a google search of "WTF is wrong with me." That first crucial step in taking a stand, telling myself I know things are not right, and then finding out why ----> That was the catalyst for this blog. I have always leaned on art and writing since I was a child. I wanted to draw late into the night in my bedroom while my mom and her husband fought when things got really bad. I drew and I wrote more than I did actual homework or socializing with other kids. It saved me. But I was always triggered to art or draw when I felt stress. Another indicator I was not healthy. The past few months I grew from writing my past to writing about my present. As I quickly figure myself out, as I become more self-aware, my art and creativity take off like a FIRE CRACKER. 8 months ago, I wouldn't get out of bed before 10 and I locked myself in the bathroom 3 or 4 times a day to cry. 6 months ago I said FUCK THIS and began to make healthy changes day by day. I have decided now that I want to create my blog as a RESOURCE CENTER for education, healing information, Lists of Professional holistic healers/coaches, healthy diet and lifestyle changes you can make to improve mental health issues ------> CREATIVE Ideas and inspirations to use art and writing as ways to awaken. Even heal. So who am I? What do I do? I am someone who has risen many times over, like a Phoenix, from SHIT to GROWTH. Who has dealt with the lemons.... And I decided instead of trying to make lemonade.. I want to grow a forest of lemon trees. And teach anyone who is willing to learn how to grow them to. Self-sufficiency + education + resources + self-awareness. I want to honor my healing journey publicly while also growing a website that is like stepping into the woods of wisdom. For trauma VICTIMS who feel disassociated and need a SHAKE to survivors who NEED a safe place to STAND UP. I support and hold love for all the healers and coaches I know. I know as I teach self-sufficiency, I also break through barriers and blocks with people -----> So they can ACTUALLY FEEL READY because of their own initial efforts to BEGIN. Getting help from a professional can either be devastating or amazing. I am excited to get into a place in my life and mindset where I can start working with healers of all kinds. And then be able to share those experiences (maybe on Youtube, who knows) to make people aware of what is OUT THERE and how it feels. I want to be a beacon of light for people who feel lost and like their life is hopeless right now. Because that has been me many times over. I hope those who see and follow my website, not just my Facebook posts ---> WILL LOVE and UTILIZE what is to come! This is for "us".  I'm poor. And I want everyone to know it. Because I know my truths will set me free. I write about it on social media because this might resonate with some of you and validate your life experiences. Since I was born, I was in the poverty line. It did not help that my parents were 20-something undiagnosed mental drug addicts who dropped out in high school [both in 10th]. So we lived in section 8 housing and could barely afford to survive in it. My mom remarried not too long after the divorce, marrying "up" as she put it which meant sort of middle class? Because he had enough with his parents help to buy us a house to live in. But we lived with very little and have to behave like we were poor. That is because my mother did not function well since she was always on something and spiraling. I left my house at 16, after becoming pregnant with a h.s. boyfriend. No one wanted to be in the picture, as a baby could ruin their lives. I retreated to a relatives house to live with them senior year of h.s. in a new place and for the first time learned what it meant to be cared for, both in shelter/needs and emotionally. I moved 3 years later when I finished community college, to move to a University campus. There I was able to get a job and go to classes full time. I qualified for some scholarships and student loans. I spent 4 years total which ended up being $75,000 ish not including those scholarships and such. A debt I still owe but need to defer every year. I met my husband senior year of college and began a relationship that turned into my now little family of 5. Together we ran a business for 4 years that needed tons of upfront investment and left us BROKE. Even after leaping in 100% together, spending my pregnancies working + no maternity breaks. Even after no holidays off besides Thanksgiving and Christmas day [though we still replied to emails]. In the end, for all sorts of reasons, we failed. It failed. This year, we each got into new ventures. We have been living with his family all this time, pleading with the universe for a miracle in our success. Begging for a life purpose + our goals to be achieved. We have adopted all the successful habits, the ones we learned off YouTube. We have become obsessed with our new passions, at the expense of not spending a lot of time together. We talk daily still about our dreams and goals. And we keep ourselves accountable. But still we struggle with debts. No time or money to date. To shop. We can barely cover food but are thankful for that. In the moment, meaning real time, we have NO money to move. But we want to and need to desperately. To have our own space as a family, with our 3 kids. To not have to rely on or live with someone else. Because that is HEALTHY. NORMAL. TRADITION. To meet, fall in love, move in /get engaged, get a pet, get married, get a home, get pregnant, get amazing careers ---> somewhere in that mix to discover what we love to do. I have never made it to the tradition line. My life was chaos from the moment I entered it and I am just lucky to even be alive now. I am lucky my kids were ever born and that I met the great husband I have now. But if we did not have the family we stay with, we would have nothing right now but a few outfits and ...well that is it. No wifi or service so our computers would mean nothing. Our phones would be gone. We would have to apply for social services programs and hope something helps while we find the most available jobs. Most likely just him, so I can be with our kids. You get the picture right? We have money trauma, poverty trauma, are both first generation to attend a college or start a business from scratch. And it is hard each day we know we have to live this way even though our dreams are so big. I do not want to ask my husband to spend any money we do not absolutely need to spend. Any time I can sell old clothes or any belongings, I jar the money. When we go grocery shopping I have tunnel vision to stick to the very cheap and healthiest basics possible to make sure my kids are fed nutritiously. We do not do snacks or juices or water bottles. We literally cannot afford it. We tried to give ourselves each a tiny little allowance just to buy something we like once in a while. A coffee. Or an item we have wanted. Our date time is holding hands on the couch at midnight to watch Netflix. But my kids, they are so happy. In the tiny bedroom they all share, in the small area we have ----> they have no clue what it means to be poor. We do say NO alot. But more in like an "ok, put it on your holiday list" as we both look at each other with a knod. Right now I'm home with our toddlers while my girl attends public school. We are AGAIN starting up business opportunities after some research, but now in our passions. We know that means our dreams will take a little longer to be achieved. But that is ok...for now. I tell you this because we do not have the Instagram lifestyle so many people see. We do not attend events or go away. No vacations. No fancy parties. No splurges. But life still goes on. We still make do. And teach our kids other values besides owning objects. Like making friends, playing outside, reading free books we get from the library etc. We find ourselves craving things because we feel like everyone has things. We rate our worth often based on traditions. Based on what the neighbors have. My husband doesnt really use social media but I dwell in it. I window shop here, for a lifestyle I hope to someday have. I'm caught between a rock and a hard place here. If I want to have things, it is a bit materialistic, no? If I WANT a modern country home with a rustic appeal. To decorate it head to toe... to be the entertainment home EVERYONE wants to come to. The game night house. The house all 3 kids have slumber parties in. The dream. Its frivolous? Ridiculous? I don't know all the things people say about it. I just know that when a poor person gets told it is GOOD to live like a minimalist anyways, they are ignorantly missing the trauma that comes with NOT BEING ABLE TO have anything. Because it is not a simple choice to become successful. If you are poor, then you know it. The many pieces that move. Daycare. Bill's. Schedules. Hours. I am so supportive of my friends having businesses. But I literally cannot buy any mascara, candles, earrings, or sweaters. I cannot spend that if it means I have to ask my husband to buy less chicken this week. And I cannot join your team if it's a start up cost of 2 weeks groceries. Some MLM reps come on facebook and say joining is the miracle a poor or struggling person needs. And I am not about to question everyones speeches on success. Maybe for some people, it is the answer. But from my POV ----> it is triggering as all fuck to be messaged and provoked about joining teams or making money. To be told it's the answer, when it might not be... its manipulative for me. I am not saying they are trying to be. I am letting you all know that my trauma and my triggers make me feel that way. We are private about the new ventures we are in because of trauma too. Because we have thought somehow bragging or mentioning it will JINX us right back into poverty. I feel it more than my spouse does. That black cloud. That doomed to fail feeling. As I adopt spiritual + manifesting ideas from my Facebook feed ---> I use them with caution. I want to study and predict outcomes. Again, I am triggered and fear nothing will work. "You have to believe it or it will not work." ----> k. Thanks. Brb. I'm going to go let my trauma and anxiety know they need to sit tight and STFU so they do not become the debbie downers at my fullmoon circle. The point is, being low income ---> being below the bracket ----> being unable to afford NY living [ $2000+ apartments, $300+ insurances, $400+ groceries per month....It is all hard. We have to fight our own fears daily and keep trying. We cannot afford in any way to give up. But we have also had to release the idea of tradition. We have had to let go of the idea of success we held so tight onto that it nearly suffocated our relationship. We have had to adopt survival skills + keep our low levels of optimism appeased by having dream boards and enlightening conversations. I realized lately, as I have gone deeper into my healing from trauma, that my biggest problem is I think Poverty is an antonym of Success. I think that having nothing means being unsuccessful. I also think I currently have nothing. I have also realized how much I have. An actual little family that I made with someone I love. A lot of talent, skills, and ideas. A partner who has the same dreams and goals. A society that now makes it possible [with technology and modern tools] to become self employed, which then means self sufficient. And we do already have freedom. Even though we feel stuck at the moment. What are we stuck in? I have had stability in a partner and got to raise my babies from home in general. Now full time. Something I never had as a teen mom who's baby went into daycare at 5 months old. I have the ability to have success in the "money" sector of this complicated talk. But I already HAVE success in many personal aspects. I have been so blinded and overwhelmed by what was around me ----> by what I was lacking <----- that I did not realize I have a pretty effen amazing list of great things. So I leave you with this. So many people are low class. Struggling. Fronting online. Acting like they have a lot. Showing images that are not even their own. Making websites and insta feeds full of backgrounds of perfection. Using backdrops in their messy home. And shit ---> do what you gotta do. I love aesthetic. I LOVE all the pretty lifestyle things I see every day. BUT I no longer want to count my worth on dream boards. I want to look in this tiny room, at my babies who are happier than ever. I want to remember, after a childhood of abuse and teen years from hell ---> all of that led me to this abundance I have now. And no mantra taught me more than "Love what you have, not what you want". A lesson I hope to hold onto no matter what comes next in our lives. J.S. Jaded Savior  WEEK 8: BLOCKS
Depression is a block of mine. I bet a lot of you have it too. The a-hole unwelcomed frenemy who loves to drop in unannounced, talking shit you do not want to hear. And you try so hard to be polite.... You want to "humor it". Hell, you even COOK IT DINNER. TF. You break bread with depression. And so do I. *********************** Today we grabbed a coffee together. And the funniest shit happen. It was talking, telling me the latest drama and yammering on --- when I started to have this really bitter taste in my mouth. and sore feeling in my throat. This whole feeling took over my body like a fever. I felt sick, sitting here in front of depression. And it hit me. I hate its MF company. I hate rambles. I hate the yammering. F. I even swore off coffee because it tips my anxiety into unsafe levels sometimes. And I do not like feeling the heart racing pain of regret. So I had set boundaries. Like an old friend, someone who did not even know the ME I have become anymore, depression just kept on talking, Looking all around and laughing its' ass off. But not looking me in the face. And again, between chill and nausea, it hit me. My boundaries. My needs. My precious time. How did I get here in this seat with this disgusting feeling in my body. Ah yes. I took the call. Now I know rationality. I love her. I do not get to see her as often, but I miss her and now try to make it a habit to call her sometimes. Or just leave her little voice memos. Just to tell her I miss her. I feel totally compelled at this moment to put down my cheap ass, lukewarm coffee and STOP. STOP depression in its' tracks. I remember rationality telling me once this funny little trick. "YOU CANNOT CONTROL EVERYTHING. YOU CANNOT PREDICT EVERYTHING. YOU CANNOT MAGICALLY CURE EVERYTHING." And she was right. Unwelcomed friends sometimes just "drop-in." "BUT..." rationality said..." YOU CAN CONTROL YOU." And my mind was blown. I set my coffee cup down and I said real calm, looking depression dead in the face. This was not fun. In fact, I am straight up uncomfortable right now. And what I am about to tell you might be really uncomfortable for us both." It did not really have a reaction. Just a lifeless stare. Almost through me. "I am actually not able to sit here anymore. I gave you some time, and really I was just trying to extend myself to be kind. To go out on a limb. But I am not happy with where this is going. And I just want to be honest with you." Depression seemed to just stand up and walk away like it was not really listening. And I felt my body felt less tense. I began to regain my breathe and slow my heartbeat down.. just enough to stop hearing the pounding. "I just remembered I have somewhere to be. But I will see you around, maybe soon," it said as it avoided eye contact with me and left the room. "yeah.. maybe" I replied. Then I just sat with myself for a while. I sat and I thought about my feelings. I processed, I marinated, and then I was done. I was a bit sad leaving, though I do not know why. Sometimes seeing a familiar face is nice. And sometimes I humor things against my own will. Out of obligation. Out of guilt. Out of fear. Sometimes I do not even know why I answer the call. But I do know this. I really want to tighten my inner circle of friends, to call on the ones who matter and the things that make me feel good. I can control me. The food, the drinks, the habits. Lifestyle choices. I can control those and do healthy things. And I know in nature's healing there is a call for balance. But maybe I won't need to sit with old friends if I set my boundaries to only humor the things that bring me joy. J.S. Jaded Savior |
AuthorJean Soto, mother of 3 and wife, is a writer + artist in the Hudson Valley, NY community. Archives
December 2019
Categories
All
|
RSS Feed
|
TRIGGER WARNING: Content mention of Rape, Abuse, Neglect, Addictions, Mental Illness, Kidnap, Molestation, Child abuse, Teen Pregnancy, Abortion, birth, body image, gender/identity dysphoria, sexuality, personal trauma, domestic violence and other extremely personal stories. Please practice caution. I am not a licensed physician or mental health professional. No medical prescribing is provided on this site, Only personal insights, experience stories, and advice; All stories published have had prior authorization. Questions? Contact Jean at: jadedsaviorblog@gmail.com |
EMPOWERING MINDS SINCE 2019
|