The First Kiss

My lips were numb and I could barely breathe. Whenever we kissed, I felt intoxicated. I wanted more. I needed more.

His kiss sucked the air directly from my lungs. When our lips parted ways, he bit down until tears welled in my eyes. His kiss felt like love so I bit him back. I was ready for love.

Then he’d trail his lips from my full bottom lip to my chin and from my chin to my neck. My pussy ached in a literal sense. My inner walls contracted and salivated.

His fingers danced to the meeting of my thighs and skipped around my clit. He kissed me again. Tiny bubbles filled my airway. My breaths would become shallow. My mind would race until I was dizzy.

This unmistakable lust had eluded me until this moment. A stolen moment.

A single stolen moment would become two and then three until each stolen moment was declared the last of its kind.

image credit: stefan kuhn

3 AM RAMBLINGS & Indistinct Dreams

So I’m going to write everything until something makes sense. I read this tweet from someone that said something along the lines of “Pay attention to who comes to get you when you retreat inside of yourself.” There’s no one here.

3 AM RAMBLINGS & Indistinct Dreams

Self conscious and self aware are not the same and I happened to become both at once. I recognized that I needed to work on myself to find inner peace. I’d spent the first five years of motherhood learning that despite knowing who you are as a woman, your identity changes when you become a mother. It’s now year six and I still don’t know who “she” is.

I am a woman first because being a woman allows me to feel human. The woman I imagine myself to be knows how to cope with the white noise. As a mom, I feel overwhelmed, lonely, neurotic. As a mom, I should have all the cures and answers my children ask of me but I feel as though I’m coming up short; with empty hands.

My old friend battles anxiety and depression. I was her crutch. Imagine using a broken crutch. When I saw that I needed to pull away to be repaired, I tried but was discarded in the process so fuck her.

I have a friend who is negative. The world is negative. Imagine listening to a broken record. Even a broken clock is right twice a day so I keep her bc she keeps me.

I had a friend who lived in an old shoe. It turns out, we weren’t friends at all. I was her cobbler. Imagine being drained of healing properties you didn’t know you had.

3 AM RAMBLINGS & Indistinct Dreams

You owe yourself your mental health. I can’t help you if I don’t help myself. No longer unable to identify those that drained my mental health, I’m ready to dig into my deeper subconscious.

Night time, maybe even dusk. Think state fair in Central Park. Able to order plates from amazon. Ordered pizza bbq chicken and other random fare. Conspiracy theorist meeting nearby. People go up a tower and don’t come down. I went up the tower before my food arrived and returned without remembering the trip. My food was covered but the random ppl that ordered with me were gone. Saw a homeless guy run further into the park. I gave chase then woke up.

I am growing. I think.

I see him everywhere in everything. I wish I was referring to my higher power but I’m referring to my lost and late love. I wonder if this will ever get any easier.

My chest hurts. I wanna cry but the strength and stubbornness in my melanin will not permit me to do so.

I need you because I trust you even though it doesn’t seem like it. Again, blame the stubbornness in my melanin.

A woman who cried often taught me that the only real emotion or relevant emotion was her anger. I don’t know how to fix it. I heard this is called Black Trauma.

I don’t want to kill myself. I have so many stories to tell and trips to take. I just want to feel better. When I breathe, I don’t want the crack in my heart to feel like it’s bleeding. I don’t want it to feel like the bricks I laid around my emotions are eroding, taking my ability to love and be empathetic away in the winds if experience.

3 AM RAMBLINGS & Indistinct Agony

I’m tired but can’t sleep. My eyes are burning but they won’t close. My brain hurts but it won’t rest. I’m trapped in a continuous REM state and the entire show is a nightmare.

January 2020, my first property will be a building. This building will be transformed into a privately funded transitional shelter for single individuals and families. At least 10 apartments to begin. Hebrews 11:1

I’m tired. I forget to pray for inner peace and when I remember, the stubbornness of a born sinner won’t allow me to follow Psalms but I think it was people like me that Jesus died for. I’m hoping this is sufficient.

I’m so tired.

I am tired.

I miss him so much. I don’t think any of my friends understand why. He loved me through the mental break downs before we understood my affliction to be a mental illness. He loved me anyway. His family loved me anyway. They even liked me despite the burden my 14 year old broken spirit arrived with.

You are among my dearest memories. When my mother was thought to be hours from death, it was you, the person I knew least who comforted me the most. It was you who kept me occupied. It was you who visited my mother when I could not. It was you who watched me cry without judgement. Thank you.

I want an ofrenda. My father had one but it wasn’t called an ofrenda. It was simply the ancestors’ room.

I’m tired.

My phone is dying.

I can’t sleep.

But I must sleep.

Still nothing makes sense but I must sleep.

Battling mental illness is hard. It’s even harder when you don’t know what you’re battling. I often feel like it’s me against the world and I’m armed with pride and sarcasm. Neither of those get you very far. In truth, one minute I feel like I’m on a raceway zipping through life in first place. I will feel good and feel blessed. I feel honored to have given birth to the most gorgeous set of Irish twins that I have ever met. But the entire time I’m sparring with a monster. Sometimes it is big, other times it is small. When I’m jumping hurdles and dodging bullets, it’s small but it doesn’t take much for it to grow. Things like waking up late, not eat breakfast, being reprimanded at work, or any form of interruption to my routine will cause the monster to grow. Then I’m battling Goliath.

I try to fight it off by thinking about things like caring for my kids and keeping my job. Those are the two immovable aspects of my life that keep me centered. The monster wins sometimes. Sometimes it will eat me alive but I’m still fighting and struggling to get out. I have to get back to my life, my kids, and my work. I CAN’T BE EATEN! Then I give up. I give up and curl in its belly. I stay curled in its belly feeling extremely defeated and overwhelmed.

While I’m in the belly of the beast, I think about my spending habits, the wrong turns I’ve made in life, and the missed opportunities. I wonder what I have done wrong and why my peers seem to be excelling but I feel like I haven’t budged. I consider what I could do differently going forward and then I kick myself in the back for being such a hard learner.  What the fxck is wrong with you? Why do you keep doing this? You’re clearly an idiot – or are you just insane? This is the beginning of the cycle.

Then someone, it could be a friend or a family member, will try to help me out of the monster’s belly. Even though their voices are muffled, I can still hear them through the monster’s belly. But it doesn’t always help. In my mind the Chaos Theory starts to run its course. I begin to imagine all of the things that will go wrong if I don’t manage to get out of the abyss I have allowed myself to trip into.

There’s a sense of responsibility that doesn’t allow me to wallow. My kids are usually the end point for me. I can’t struggle with being a single mom and having some form mental illness. I have to pick my battles and I choose not to settle in the the monster’s belly because I have something far more pressing to attend to.  I want to see my girls grow and excel. There’s a burning desire to give them everything I didn’t have. They need me far more than I need to feel sorry for myself. The pit in my chest that weighs me down gets lighter around my babies but what happens when they don’t need me anymore? I try not to think about it.

So it’s settled – this isn’t mental illness, it’s life. Right?

Miserabile :: written at a hard time in my life

I haven’t spent much time here. Thus far I have given nothing but broken promises to my readers and for that, I am deeply apologetic. There’s been a lot going on in my personal life however, I’ll not regale nor bore you with details. just know that it is wearing me thin.

I will say that I am having another baby and I am pleased to announce that he/she will be adopted by a loving family! Many of my family & friends firmly disagree, however, given the circumstances this is the best decision for the baby’s future.

Anyhow, being hormonal & having a lot of drama is NOT easy. Add all this to now being a full time student and you have an overwhelming surge of feelings. For the past two days I’ve been struggling to label them. I know that at the very least, it’s discomfort. I’m not angry or hurt. Maybe aggravated or annoyed…I guess in order to sort this out, I’ll need to get detailed.

You know how it is though, when you want to move forward with your life & repeating the same sad story just won’t do. I don’t want to replay the details of this sordid year so I feel a run on sentence coming on….

I got into a relationship with a manipulative man and got pregnant about six months later shortly thereafter I discovered that he was still seeing other people as a result we fought and now he’s pressing charges for simple assault. Which is pretty laughable…u’ve all seen him compared to me ((breath)) On top of this he claims that I have been stalking him and his out of state girlfriend. I won’t get into details bc this is a public blog & the case is on going, however! ((breath)) I will say that justice will prevail 3x & You will all know what that means later.

So as I wrote that last statement (the run on) I felt my chest tighten. I have just one question plaguing me “why must this continue?” & bc it has been a never ending cycle of fuckery, I’m wondering on his end why not just end it? Ive tried to bow out several times only to be dragged back by my coattails. And now it seems the burn will be long lasting.

Is this confusion? No, I’m clear that I want to be removed from this “love” triangle. Is it fear? Possibly. The other corners of the triangle are obtuse…(get it? Lol) & bc they are such, u can’t put anything past them. So sometimes I think abt the threats that have been made to me & my loved ones & wonder if they were idle or certain. Is it anger? I can’t say. I don’t feel my blood boiling. I don’t feel steam escaping my ears. Thus far all I’ve wanted to do is sleep & party. But I have a daughter that is fully dependent on my sanity so doing so would work against me & her. I can attempt to bury myself in my studies but that becomes mundane & my thoughts wander back to trying to discern this indescribable feeling. Sadness or disappointment? Well I’m not disappointed. I had very low expectations of this man from the beginning but I did want him to prove me wrong. Sad I guess could suffice. I just want to move on as quickly as possible but being pregnant and having to face these bitches in court is not making that possible.

Just as a side note — I could see the disdain in his eyes when he looked at the ultrasound screen. It didn’t hurt tho bc neither one of us wanted more children. Of course I don’t feel disdain towards the growing life inside of me. After all, it was my irresponsibility that led to its existence.


As I do believe I’ve figured out what this feeling is, I’d like to thank you all for taking this walk with me.

mis·er·a·ble /ˈmiz(ə)rəbəl/

Adjective 1. (of a person) Wretchedly unhappy or uncomfortable.

So by definition, I am miserable. I’m sure some of my phantom readers will take light in this discovery and I am okay with that. Bring on the “i told you so!” Bc I told me so as well. I’ll ask that you please remain seated in the peanut gallery as I am still explaining my discovery. I’m unhappy & uncomfortable only it has nothing to do with his decision to be on the other team. It is solely bc for the past two years I’ve been in quicksand & I thought, for a split second, that he was going to offer emotional comfort during this time of recovery. The minute I learned otherwise…several times in the past…I should’ve laced my sneakers & hauled ass. but…he is the best pussy/ass eater I’ve ever encountered & while this should have no bearing on why I stayed in this relationship, it was very helpful.

So my misery is self inflicted. And now that I can effectively say that I am unhappy and uncomfortable. Unhappy because I’d like to move on with my life and never look back but until this court shit is over & until I have this baby, I can’t. I have to see him again. 😦 I’m uncomfortable bc I actually got pregnant by this bitch ass idiot exactly one year later! Ugh yes, yes, I am careless – to say the very least. I’m also uncomfortable bc this cafone was around my daughter.

*taking a moment to stretch* I feel so much better now. I feel like this is the first step, u know? Confronting your emotion. If I don’t know how I feel, how can I fix it? It is way to late to abort…I’m pretty sure I can feel the baby flutter & besides could I live w/ myself after seeing the beautiful outcome that is my MadiMelon? Probably not.

So now how do I keep busy besides my studies? DATING! No, I’m only kidding. By going out on another date, that would imply that I haven’t learned a damn thing. Right? (heh heh)