Revisiting my past is building my future

          The topic of discussion is depression, fear, struggles of falling in love, revisiting the past, and the hardships of keeping ones shit together when it seems their entire life is falling apart. My discussion is, of course, centered on my recent life events; I say recent, indicating the last two years, really. I’m going to start this discussion with my detoxification of my uterus. There isn’t a fiber of my being that wasn’t affected by that experience. My body has obviously changed. My mind is not the same. My spirit has taken on a new course of responsibility. I am not the same person I was when I started the process in 2013. I never expected the shit to happen the way it has, and I’m beyond grateful for how it’s all happened. I now have a working reproductive system, and I did it by myself. I didn’t go to any doctors, and I sure as hell didn’t have any procedures that would allow objects to scrap the inside of my body. Nope! I prayed. I meditated. I soaked in the light of the full moon. I spoke to my ancestors. I reached out beyond this realm, and I found more than I was asking for.

          With the steps taken during this time, I internalized. I didn’t share my experience with anyone except for two people. One is no longer a part of my life; he’s missed greatly. The other one is still very prominent in my life, and I appreciate her more than words can express. I was extremely depressed during this time in my life, and I struggled with a lot of loss. So-called friends distanced themselves from me, too. Not only was I alone, I felt lonely and abandoned. Coming to terms with the loss of my unborn child from 15 years prior, I found a sense of peace within myself. I wasn’t lonely any longer. This uterus cleanse that I did to myself was brutal; I’ve explained this before. Like I said, it wasn’t only physical. This was an entire make over of every aspect of my being. I tapped into my higher self and my lower self. I spoke to my unborn child. I spoke to my previous lives. I identified with my purpose. I knew I was destined to be a mother.

          After I gathered the broken pieces of my life, I started feeling better about myself because I had identified with my past sorrows that were keeping me down. My detox cleared out some major cobwebs of my soul. I started exercising. I picked up yoga again. I found a comfort in being alone. Then, I started planning my trip to Haiti. Being out there continued to shape my thought process; my thoughts changed again. My aspirations grew stronger. I witnessed things I still cannot explain. I honestly believe something from my experiences in Haiti filled the void within my soul that was from the loss of my child. I misread some signs too. Messages that came to me were mixed with a different reality. I made mistakes. I have forgiven myself for those mistakes, of course. And the love that blossomed will forever be a part of me and those involved. Coming home from Haiti and remembering all that I went through that year with my detox, I found myself revisiting my past. I started writing my memoirs.

          This choice, based on my decision making process to take this class my senior year, was the starting point of my entire future. I had spent many years running away from a part of my past that I didn’t want to identify with. I didn’t want my new friends to know about it. But, when I started writing about it, that all changed. With my newfound strength of being alone, and the courage I found within myself from traveling to Haiti, I fell in love. I feel deeply in love. I visited the depth of my soul. I found a lot down there, too. During that journey of deep Jo diving, however, I found something I had forgotten about. Digging down into the depths of my past, I remembered why I was running away. It was a painful thing to identify, and I’m still working on healing from that pain. This was one of the hardest lessons I had to learn, but I learned it, for sure. Love will do that to ya. Upon opening the floodgates of lost love and broken promises, I found myself nearly broken once again.

          More friends distanced themselves because I was being a complete bitch; I was keeping so much internalized again. I still didn’t want to share my past with anyone; it hurt too much. During this time, a little pixie and her son visited me; they kept me alive. They kept me motivated and allowed my inner child to play freely. I didn’t want to be an adult, so I wasn’t. I let myself go completely. I was spiraling down further than any depth I had reached during depression. I kept highly intoxicated so I wouldn’t deal with the pain. I covered it up. Then I realized I had used all my rent money on weed and alcohol; I couldn’t afford to live in that place any longer, and not just financially, but life in general. I am sure I would have taken my own life if I stayed there. I am sure of it. The depression and negativity I was living with would have taken its toll on me; so, I left.

          I didn’t know what I was doing, where I was going, or how I was going to get there. All I knew was that I needed to go. I picked Colorado as my destination, and I made it. And, of course, the depression, past sorrows, and newfound strength all followed me, too. The things I identified with during my detox, trip to Haiti, falling in love, and writing my memoirs has all followed me here. Right now, this very moment, I can still feel the warmth of these experiences. I know my higher being, God Himself, is guiding me on my path. It was my decision to leave a home I loved that has brought me to this place I am at right now; I am homeless. I am struggling. I am scared. I am blessed, honored, and madly in love again. Home is where the heart is, right? Well, my heart is locked up for two more years. The difficult transition I’m in will only bring more warmth and light, I’m sure of it. Digging to the depth of my soul has reminded me of who I am, and I will not hide from that person any longer. I refuse.

          I am not living in my past, not at all, but it is my past that is building my future. I need to remind myself what I’ve done, where I’m from, and why I am who I am. I’ve come a long way since that dirty warehouse worker who got involved in many sexual acts. Even though I can still recall the smell of oil, propane, and wet boxes, I need to identify with where I am today. Even though I can still taste the passionate release of my clients, I need to identify with who I am today. It’s hard though. I struggle with it because I have hidden that part of my past from everyone I ever encountered. It’s not that I’m afraid of judgment, no. What I’m afraid of is expressing my enjoyment. I’m afraid if I express how much I miss my clients, how much I miss giving blow jobs, and how much I want to experience it all again … I’m afraid I’ll go back into the business.

          There is an opportunity that is knocking at my door, and I want it more than anything I have ever wanted in my life. It’s a revisit of my past, of course. It’s a door reopened. It’s an opportunity for me to learn new skills and make a lot of money. I need to recognize that I am not reliving my past. I need to realize that my choices now are based on knowledge of self, knowledge of other, and knowledge of how society works. As a college graduate, who studied anthropology, I am sure to follow this dream and not make the same mistakes I made before. It’s terrifying though. The fear is what’s making me do it. I swear, if it wasn’t for the fact that I am scared out of my mind right now, I wouldn’t be following this hidden dream. I wouldn’t be playing with the hidden gem I found while I dug to the depths of my soul. If it wasn’t for this fear, I wouldn’t be alive. I wouldn’t have the opportunity to do God’s work. I wouldn’t be writing this blog, right now …

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Two Oppressed Lives in One Privileged Body

This is a piece I wrote over the last few months. With the heartache and pain of The People, and as an universal empath, these words come to me through dreams, visions, travels, conversations, and the unconditional love that has bloomed within me.
~enjoy~

My skin is pale and Privileged White

This Spirit, however, is not …

The wisdom acquired against the fight

Has tighten The Eternal Knot

Intertwined with the fabric of our Ancestors

It’s beyond anything we can touch or see

This body mistreated by The Social Creators

And my spirit endured the waves of The Sea

Unlike the Leusden, my roaming Vessel will stay afloat

This Spirit plummeting deeper than those who have died

Unknown destinations for the course of this one-woman boat

But a Ronin, indeed, I am loyal to those who encouraged my death

No matter where My Spirit travels in the Journey of Life

This body is responsible for the Path of God’s Wonders

My spirit seeks Other’s Pieces that fit to the Puzzle of my Life

And, this body creates the Curves of my Queen’s Wonders

By addressing Topics of Race, I have heard the voice of The People

I’ve learned it’s compassion, respect, and love that the world lacks

Knowing the Truth about Our History is what matters to the people

And strengthening my empathy is how I share the story of “The Blacks”

I walk a Thin Line in a society that labels me a white woman

When I was given a laminated “black card” and the tag name “One Drop”

“The Privileged” listen to me because I am socially accepted by The Man

And I teach with The Strength of the Ancestors who have painted our backdrop

Emotional Battle of The Then, The Now, and The Next ~ In Love with a Client  

It’s been awhile since I posted, and it’s not because I haven’t been writing. I haven’t posted because what I’ve been writing has been difficult and emotional. But, it’s time isn’t it. It’s time I share one major piece of my life puzzle. It’s time to admit that something has connected within. Something has grown within. Something is created. It’s strong, too!

That wonderful fluttering feeling in my inner core has been an on going struggle because the love I created over the past year is still present and strong. That love reminded me of so much. Or maybe it was the original love (10+ years ago) that made me fall in love this time around. I have asked myself if the reason I fell in love this time around was to remind myself of the love everything started with. Yeah, is it possible? Isn’t that how Universal Messages work? Is it possible that this recent core flutter of love, appreciation, admiration, and pure light is a reflection of what was before? I think it is, to an extent. I think I missed it last time though; I didn’t see it as such. I believe one of the reason I started the newer path of love was because I was reminded of my original love. The original love I speak of was the beginning of my light.

Okay, before I continue … Yes, of course I was in love in high school, but this is different. My high school sweet heart was a difficult, adolescent love. It was a darker love. This other man, where my inner core flutters steam from, was a client I fell in love with. As a sex worker (I hate the term prostitute), I used my skills on many men – many married men, as a matter of fact. While I worked the streets, I was very emotionally shut down. This guy opened my heart chakra. This guy challenged me to find my inner peace. This guy planted a seed that has grown since that first day I met him; I just didn’t realize it until this recent love was built and destroyed. He is who introduced God to me. He is who taught me how to relax my body. He is … very significant.

You see, I’m writing my memoirs from when I worked at the warehouse. I’ve been writing it for over a year now. This man I speak of is a main character in that story. I fell in love with this man. I was a different person then, of course. I didn’t know anything about what I wanted in life. I didn’t understand my daddy issues. I wasn’t aware of my heartache and pain of a troubled youth. Not anywhere near what I know now about myself…

There are parallels that I’m working with right now. There are so many similarities in my love for these two men. And, I will stand by my word and say that I did fall in love with the most recent man for specific reasons (very valid and real reasons, too), but I wonder if the reason I got so comfortable so quickly was because I was remembering the love I created 10+ years ago. See the irony? I’m working with this now. I’m working with the idea that maybe, just maybe, my love for this newer guy had a possible thought of happiness because I was remembering my original love. I look at this newer man and I see many things in our lives that wouldn’t mesh very well. I think we’re of different passions, desires, and dream structures. And there’s nothing wrong with that, but I don’t think a happy future would have been possible.

~~~~~~~~~~~

I have made contact with him … my king … he’s asked me to wait for him. He has two and a half more years in prison. Why is he in prison? I don’t know! I’ve heard a few different stories, but I do not know his truth. And, it’s not important right now. People are telling me to be safe, not to trust him, and that I shouldn’t have contacted him in the first place. People are wrong! People don’t know. What’s going on inside of me – and him, too – is between him and I. I’m sharing my struggle here because it’s very significant story of my life, which deserves to be here with the rest of it.

I’m working, living, and loving in the now but I remember the then. It’s hard! As I’m healing, I’m also building. As I’m letting go, I’m attaching. As I cry, I laugh! I’m getting involved with a lot. I’m making impressions with the right people. I’ve been in this location for 8 weeks. It’s exactly where I need to be, and I’m doing exactly what I’m supposed to be doing. I’m building a name for myself again. I’m pursuing my dreams. I’m connecting with people. I’m making a difference in the lives of those I touch. Two and a half years from now, who knows where I’ll be. I can’t say that I will wait for him, but I can’t deny him either. The love is too strong, still.

~~~~~~~~~~~

I paused for a minute to recollect my thoughts (and clear the tears from my eyes) so I didn’t get off topic … and it’s so strange because I’m almost done with my memoirs. I have about three more chapters to write before I’m ready to send it out for edits and critiques. By January, I will have it finished and ready for publication. I will send him a copy, of course. How will it make him feel to know he’s my main character? Even though some of the stories in the memoir weren’t specifically moments him and I shared, but nonetheless, he’s my main character.

So, yeah … That’s where I’m at right now. I’m still exercising. My planks and core muscles are getting stronger. My waist is fading. My hips are slimming. My ass is firm. My body feels great. I’m healthy. I’m broke as fuck and can’t afford anything at this point, but I’m working on making the right impressions, like I said, and I have faith! I know I won’t be homeless. I know I won’t be cold at night. I know I’ll have food. I’ll be safe through the winter. I’m blessed, indeed.

But in all honesty, I still cry myself to sleep. I still crave the embrace of someone who loves me. I still feel my inner core pulling me closer to my destiny. I still believe in the numbers, my intuition, and the strength that comes with owning and loving all parts of me. I’ve realized in recent days that I’m not hiding any parts of me anymore. I don’t have to worry about saying the wrong thing at the wrong time or even the right thing at the right time. I have nothing to hide anymore, and the purity of my message is becoming easier to share.

I think about who I was then, who I am now, and who I might be in two and a half years. #CupOfJoBruno prison style is under way. He has information I need. He is my inside connection. I just didn’t realize I was going to fall in love with him again. I didn’t realize I was in love with him then. It’s funny how a voice can ease so much pain and sorrow, even after 8 years of not talking.

I think about my detox last year and the struggles of my unborn child. I think about my trip to Haiti and the connections to my ancestors. I think about people I’ve grown apart from. I think about new connections being made. I think about happiness, peace, and love. I think it’s possible. I think I’m worth it. True, unconditional love … is it a thing? One could hope, right? I have hope.

Bay Area Born ~ Traveling Spirit

Forever representing the 925
Born and raised in the Bay Area
The product of 80s Hip Hop
Italian/Sicilian family with strong local roots
Lost in the system of America
My heritage was missing and unrecorded
Unknown during my own troubled youth
I traveled over the train tracks to Downtown
Learned the Culture of the streets
So many bloody fist fights with parental figures 

Borrowed, used, beaten, and exploited

High school sweet heart and a Miscarried Seed
Broken femur by The Red Camaro incident
Hospitalized during high school graduation
Broken heart by The Blackened Shadow
Hiding behind the pain endured
To the streets I returned
Adult Street Worker making money
Getting caught up in the remnants of 80s rap
Acted the roll and provided for the Bay Area scene
The White Privilege of my Italian skin
The Ghetto Attitude of my street personality
Provided just enough to get me places 

Borrowed, used, beaten, and exploited

Broken Spirit caused by my Split Moral
In love with a client, I had become
Promises made hold strong today
Sneaking away with their hidden truths
Secrets held within the depths of my Lovers’ embrace
Falling further and further away, I sought balance
In the southern Oregon trees I found peace
Spirit building, fresh water bathing, and snow meditations
The fluidity of my Spirit and the oils of other lifestyles didn’t mix
A newly found Traveling Spirit back to the Bay Area
No, not to the streets this time
Traveling within The System, I found an Education
Love of graphics, writing, and production
Love of leadership, community, and family
Learned perspectives of those I followed in my youth
Difficult to distinguish the Difference of Viewpoints
Struggled with double standards, “Black Cards,” and the “One Drop” rule
It was the words of Cornel West that motivated me to change roles
Adult perspectives of the role I played in the 80s Hip Hop scene 

Borrowed, used, beaten, and exploited

I returned to the trees of Oregon, further north to the Willamette Valley
Strange combination of earth, love, and social normality
No regards of Old Street Life or addictive sexual desires repeating
I found Myself buried deep in that 4-year journey
I learned forgiveness, understanding, and social requirements
Italian/Sicilian blood, Bay Area roots, and a Systematic Education
Forgotten history, misplaced childhood, and now an angry adult
In love I had fallen, to The Man on the Moon
Familiar spirits, like past lives reconnecting and breaking again
It’s another puzzle piece to the layered Leo Drama of society’s life
Ronin spirit with an external shell representing and supporting the 925
Bay Area born, street smart, physical labor, and educated through the University
Teachers from the other side of the tracks as well as the other side of the trailers
Acceptance of such things has given me ambition to go further
New journey with a strange Toolbox
I’m awaiting my turn to accomplish another Dream
Nestled somewhere in the Colorado Rockies with an unknown destination
Following my dreams has taken me on a homeless route 

Borrowed, used, beaten, and exploited

I have returned to the Earth to settle my sorrows in Her soil
I am the little White Girl who craves attention
I am the angry Teenager who hates herself
I am the easy Young Woman who fights addiction
I am the ignorant Spirit Traveler who teaches self-love
I am the arrogant Leo Queen who forces truth 

Borrowed, used, beaten, and exploited

Those five characters now wrapped by The Three-Bound Knot
Third Eye open and I’m creating Solitude and Oneness
These hands in the soil created an introduction to a New Being
The Universe has helped me create another way to live and love
Collection of all encompassing entities, past and present
My Ancestors are speaking to me, guiding me, and protecting me
Away this body, mind, heart and spirit will go
Its purpose is to continue to fly and grow

A Year of Change

I have lost many friends and experienced many broken bonds in just the last year alone. I’ve been told that if those bonds were broken they were never real in the first place. They were all real at one point. People grow apart. People change and sometimes we can’t figure out how to continue connecting when sparks are flying. It becomes two negative charges trying to connect; it just doesn’t work. Things happen within our lives and we perceive things differently. We make choices based off a multitude of reasons, and sometimes people make mistakes. Bonds break. Once powerful knots are untied or severed. It happens, right? True friendship existed at one point. Unconditional love was present throughout the time spent together.

Things must change …

The summer 2013 was when I did my detox; it was extremely painful; I was alone throughout the beginning. I wasn’t supposed to be though; I felt the first sting of betrayal during this time. Support was not there, at first. Eventually, I reached out to a lifer. She listened as I cried, and she helped me make sense of the craziness of my hormones and thoughts. Looking back to those days, I see how it’s shaped me into who I am today. Things said by those who loved me at one point and experiencing the recovery of a 15-year-old death changed me. I am the one who changed. When another, unexpected person showed concern about my health and well being, it changed me even more. Again, a year later, I see how the voice of that individual helped create the person I am today. That particular voice has become the driving force of my future ambitions.

I must change …

Detaching from the old and forgiving the sorrows of my previous choices, I found myself free from the dark shadows of my damaged soul. I was no longer held down by my past. I did not allow myself to live in my past any longer. Instead, it was a part of me – I allowed the sorrow to become a part of my newly found love for myself. As I shed and released the collection of my past, I became a different person. My thoughts were different. My spiritual practice was different. My ambitions changed. My focus was on myself, finally. I talked to my ancestors, and they spoke to me. I connected to a higher realm. Experiencing that cleanse with the two supportive and surprising voices helped me connect to my higher self. It’s difficult to see all this, a year later, because one of those gentle voices has also become one that has left me.

Lives must change …

The winter 2013 was when I went to Haiti. This trip, nearly a year later, has changed me even more than any experience I ever had. It’s tied to my detox in many ways. The moon rituals I started during my cleanse traveled with me to Haiti. I spent the last full moon of 2013 on the beach of Haiti. My ancestors were with me. I was visited by previous connections to past realms. Further, that strong, now missing voice kept me grounded as well as brought me home many nights. I experienced a transcendence that to this day has yet to make sense to me. It is because of these things that have brought me to where I am today. My vision has changed. The social goggles that I was raised with have been broken and replaced by a pair of contacts. I no longer have my boxed frames getting in the way of the eternal vision. It’s because of my trip to Haiti and the combination of my past and present that has me making great strides to accomplish the future I see for myself.

Action must change …

I have heard a definition of insanity as doing something the same way and expecting different results. The spring of 2014 has now become the striving force of my insanity. Better yet, it’s become the biggest mistake of my past addictions and bad choices. I made many mistakes. The outcome has become the reason I no longer trust my instincts, intuition, and empathy. This particular situation has become the largest void of my internal being. Not even my ancestors or the full moon can help me heal from this one. It simply just is a part of me now. As I travel further and pursue my dreams, all of the things that have helped me be the person I am today will be a part of me.

To change is to grow …

Summer 2014 is just about over. The trees have been kissed lightly by fall. I see the change in seasons. I am guided by those changes. I follow the moon cycle. I hear the call of the birds and the screaming of our Mother’s voice. One year has passed since the ending of my detox. I started this blog for the reason of my detox. Because of the changing force of my passion and vision, I went back and forth about changing the reason of this blog. I don’t think I can change it. These writings are for me to express the struggle of a Highly Sensitive Person (HSP), an empathic woman, and someone who has many important things to say. It started with my detox. It transcended from that to an ancestral connection, traveling spirits, and eventually falling deeply in love.

Change is hard …

It’s been a seven year cycle of me being a student. This is the first fall term in seven years that I am not scheduling my next term. I graduated. Now what? It’s been a traveling vacation and unknown destinations so far. Right now, I am in Colorado. I pray I can find a place throughout the winter. I am homeless. Yes, maybe by choice – kind of. I couldn’t afford rent. I was bailed out a couple of times, but after graduation – and without the financial aid assistance – I couldn’t do it. I had work lined up, but I noticed the suicidal depression of my addiction and I had to leave. I’m sure the Winter of 2014 would have taken my life if I stayed stagnant. I left. I decided to jump and follow my new visions. It’s terrifying and quite lonely. I am the Ronin. With the loss of close friends (and non-friends) over the year, I now see it as a new opportunity to gather the pieces that shattered and find peace within myself. I have decided to internalize again. I have made the choice to keep the matters of my heart to myself. It was by choice I walked away without a fight. It was a hard decision to make, but my vision will stay mine. Sharing the insight, lessons learned, and new ambitions developed will be easy, but to give my secrets away and share my passion with others will probably not happen for a while. Details don’t matter right now. All that matters is that I am reconstructing my thoughts, aspiration, and faith because my focus has changed. As I said, my vision has changed; I have changed.

Change is inevitable …

It isn’t change that we fear because everything is forever changing. Nothing is ever the same after time passes – not even time itself can stay the same. The thing people fear about change is the unknown. The unknown is scary. The unknown is a terrifying place to live. I’ve noticed that the strong, silent voice that was once in my reality but now only in my subconscious, has become my saving grace. Focusing on picking up the pieces that shattered throughout my cavern’s floor is what is keeping me from fearing the unknown and completely freaking out about my situation. I am not thinking about the unknown. I am thinking about how my puzzle has expanded. It still isn’t complete, of course, but there’s an entirely new scene painted on the canvas of my life’s work. Why fear something that is out of my control? Why worry about what can’t be changed? Why fear change? Instead of focusing on the unknown, focus on what is. If the life that is doesn’t make you smile in some way, change it! Don’t fear it, just change it. People will become distant. People will disappear. People may or may not support you. People will call you names, tell you how wrong you are, and even try to give you false promises. I’ve learned it’s because they don’t understand. I’ve learned it’s because the fear people associate with change isn’t really change, but fear of not trusting themselves to jump and follow their own dreams. I’ve learned it’s because I am a pain in the ass and when I have my sights set on something I’m passionate about, I’m nearly unstoppable. I’ll get knocked around. I’ll cry. I’ll get angry and try to force things I feel to be true. I have lost. But in the end of it all, I have won more than I lost. It was because I don’t fear the unknown. I trusted my faith that grew during my detox and travel to Haiti. That’s why I’m able to follow my dreams and reconstruct my thoughts. It was because of those amazing experiences and supportive voices that allowed me to see a different vision for myself.

I’ve changed my mind … therefore, I have changed my life
I’m on the pursuit of happiness
Change is my happiness
What’s your happiness?

Time to rewind a bit

Today is June 29, 2014 … nearly a year since I started my detox. My detox was not a fun experience, but it was the most enlightening experience of my life since 2007. For the first time since I started my cycle when I was 12ish, I’ve bled every month for a year. This is amazing! I did the black cohosh and blue cohosh cleanse of my uterus. And, well … It worked! The few months last year, going through the cleanse, was painful and lonely. Only two people were really there for me, and I’ve expressed my gratitude for their significance, but I doubt either of them know how important they are to me. I said goodbye to many things, and people. I closed many doors, and opened new ones. I prayed, did some major rituals, and learned a lot about the kind of womyn I want to be … Anyways … It’s been nearly a year and I have had a moon cycle every month since!

My only wish, Is that my body can be the shell to house a beautiful baby …

That was my intention when I started my detox …

Now my dream is a bit bigger than that …
Now my dream has expanded …
Now, due to the recent events …

Not only do I hope my body will be strong and healthy enough to grow a child and perform the beautiful process of birthing a child … I now wish for a king who has the ability to comfort the body, heart, and mind of the queen who is nurturing his child …

If I still believe in the magic of Jo’s life … I’m close … Real close … Because, for a minute there I thought I did find my king … But it was only my imagination …

We have a bleeder …

I hardly know where to start. I don’t quite know how much I want to share with you. There are still things I’m trying to work through. I have to keep asking myself, “What is it I truly want to give to the reader?” “What do I share and how much do I share in order for my point to be made without over sharing?” Then I realized it doesn’t matter! I’m not only writing for you, the reader, I’m writing for me as well. I am using this blog not only to encourage people and empower your minds, but also to release some of my thoughts and many of my stories. I feel it’s time I let my stories be told because it’s obviously time for people to hear them.

If, in fact, I do over share in your personal category of over sharing, I apologize. I apologize you’re not willing to grow and expand your comfort zone. I am sorry you won’t put your fears, judgments and ridicule aside long enough to read my story, regardless of how crude, brutal or straight forward it may be. I’m not going to hold back anymore and I’m not going question myself.

If you’ve kept up with my previous blogs, or if you know me on a personal level, you’re probably asking yourself where all of that came from. Well, it’s come from five days of bleeding. If you’re a new reader check out my previous blogs. I finally bled. After talking to Dr. Jones from VIDA, I realized I was doing exactly what I needed to be doing. I appreciate Dr. Jones’s advice, but she gave me the same exact advice I received from my other doctors. That’s okay too. So, after talking to her, I decided to double the dose of Black and Blue Cohosh. Well damn! Just two days of doubling the dose (I was taking 30 drops of each, every three hours), I started bleeding. It came fast and it came hard. It went nonstop through the weekend. I spent my time either in bed or on the couch. I have watched so many movies, I don’t even know what to say about myself – lol – But, that’s the only thing I did. It hurt to move. It hurt to stand. It hurt to walk. It hurt to sit. Everything just hurt! I slept a lot too. I did a lot of deep thinking. I cried a lot. I was scared too. Many memories have come back and it’s brought up an entire part of my life I haven’t worked through yet. This is what I don’t want to share with you, yet. I’m not ready to share that part of my history. Not because I don’t want you to know, but because I don’t know how I feel about it yet. And anyways, it kind of goes off topic. It is, indeed, a topic I will cover, just not now.

So, my experience … This will be graphic at times, but please reread the first two paragraphs … I warned you!

Timeline

Monday the 19th – called doctor

Tuesday the 20th – full moon gazing – started Cohosh before bed

Wednesday the 21st – Doubled dose – yard work – moon gazing – back and breast pain

Thursday the 22nd – Doubled dose – major cramping – tired – back and breast pain

Friday the 23rd – Cohosh in morning – full bleeding – cramping – back and breast pain

Saturday the 24th – Stopped taking Cohosh – major cramping – full bleeding

Sunday the 25th – Repeat of Friday and Saturday combined into one day

Monday the 26th – No cramping – light bleeding

Today, Tuesday the 27th – No cramping – no bleeding

During all of this, I was completely alone. Nobody came to visit me. I only got a couple of phone calls. I only talked to one of them. I texted a few people; hiding my pain from them. I didn’t reach out to anyone. I didn’t want to. The only two people I wanted here were unavailable, so I did what I could by myself. And, I did a lot! I did everything by myself. Not only did that teach me that I don’t have to rely on people as much as I always have, but I’m way capable of taking care of myself. Now, if I had to go through this and I had a child or a full time job I wasn’t able to take time off of, I would have been screwed. There would have been no way I could have gone through what I went through if I had responsibilities. I’m so grateful to have the opportunity to just lay down for four days. Then again, I’m proud of myself that even though I was going through so much pain, I still took care of myself when all I wanted to do was punch a wall or go to sleep.

I made myself an awesome set up in the bathroom. I had two 4qt containers with lids filled with distilled water. My friend made me 9 pads out of 100% organic cotton. They were thin pads, but washable and so much nicer then the pads we buy at the store. I had to use four of them at a time and “tape” them to my panties with panty liners. It was messy. There are some alterations I want to try so I can continue using the pads as I continue to bleed (more details on that later). Once I bled through them, I would put them in the distilled water containers. They would soak for about 4 hours, then I would hand wash them and put them in the dryer so they’d be ready for the next round of changing the pads. There was a time I didn’t get around to washing them in time and I had to sit on a bundled up towel. It was uncomfortable and messy but, it worked.

The pain was something I had never experienced before. I tried to find something to compare it to and the only thing I can think of is “This is what getting punched in the abdomen by Tyson feels like.” Not cool, man! Not cool at all! Feeling my femur being pulled into contraction was less painful than this. I seriously wonder if labor pains are like that. Nothing really seemed to work either – except lying on my side and not moving. And, it was only the left side that hurt. I remember when my doctor did an exam on me and she pushed on my abdomen; that was the same area it hurt when she pushed on it. I went back to my test results and everything said my ovaries looked fine and that there were no cysts or growths – so why did it hurt so much? I don’t know! So, that was a concern of mine. I was worried that the Cohosh did something to me. But, I let it go as much as I could and just went with it. If labor pains were like that, I would be a very lazy pregnant woman.

I hardly ate anything, which goes back to my Dr. Oz detox and cleanse experience. The food I bought was supposed to last me the entire month, but most of it went bad before I could eat it. I have an empty fridge. I have plenty of pasta, rice, quinoa and garbanzo beans though. I have no fruits or veggies. Oh! I have some strawberries and pineapple in the freezer. I’m not really hungry anyways. When I do get hungry, I’ll have a piece of gluten free bread with some freshly crushed peanut butter on it. Either that or I’ll have some trail mix. If I’m really hungry, I’ll make some pasta and drizzle olive oil on it. I don’t eat much anymore. I had some coffee this morning, and it made my tummy all bubbly and unhappy. That was interesting. My point is, I think the detox did work in a way. I have put very little garbage in my system since I’ve started this process and maybe the outcome will be that my apatite goes down, extremely. Maybe I’ll find a joy in snacking all day on fruits and veggies then have a nice meal for dinner. Who knows what will come of it. All I know is that I haven’t eaten much this week and I’m feeling pretty good. I had energy today, and I intend on going on a bike ride tomorrow. If it wasn’t for the cramping and back pain, I probably would have been active this weekend. So, I’m looking forward to seeing where my apatite goes from here.

So, back to the pads and bleeding. I enjoyed washing my pads. It was an interesting experience. I thought about what women did 100 years ago. They didn’t have sinks or warm water or a dryer. Shit! Did they even use cloth? It’s really crazy to think about, isn’t it? We have come so far, yet we’re half assed about everything. I much preferred to wash my own pads and reuse them rather then using products from corporate companies. I mean, seriously, most women buy their hygiene products from places like Wal-Mart. Why? Because it’s simple. But there’s something to be said about being responsible for your own waste. There’s something powerful about being able to put your hand into a container filled with bloody, distilled water. Call me, weird … Fine! But it was empowering. It would definitely be difficult to be responsible for reusable pads if I was at school or something. But, I think I will find a way to continue using reusable pads in the future. I don’t want to buy pads anymore. I don’t want to give my money to them. So, I’ll find another way!

You may be asking yourself what the point was of putting my pads in distilled water. Well, I watered my garden. HERE is a link I found that has some helpful, interesting input about using menstrual blood as fertilizer for plants. There’s some concern because of the products of human blood, but we’ll see what happens to my plants. Throughout my bleeding process, I went through 12 quarts of water, which means I was able to water my plants three times. I didn’t water any of my plants more than once and I didn’t water any of my eatable plants. It was an interesting process, really. The first time, I watered my morning glory and lamb’s ear plants. The second time, I watered another lamb’s ear and three gardenia plants. The third time I water three random (I don’t know what they’re called) plants and put the rest into compost. It was funny because Cleo followed me out every single time and remarked her territory after I poured my fertilized water onto the plant. She was all shaky tailed and vocal each time. I think she was a bit excited too – I don’t know! Seriously though, if it wasn’t for her I don’t know what I would have done this weekend. So, I guess I was wrong earlier when I said I was alone … I was not alone! 

Throughout this entire process, I did a lot of thinking. OMG did I do a lot of thinking. I have some messages too. I think our female ancestors visited me over the weekend. I looked at myself in the mirror and I looked different. I looked into my eyes and I talked to myself. So there I have it again … damn it … I was so not alone this weekend … wow!!! That really puts things into perspective. Sweet! Okay, back to what I was saying before that slap of realization hit me. Our ancestors. The women before us. Our great grandmothers and their great grandmothers were with me. The energy of so many past women visited me. The energy of female deity visited me. I believe women, all over the world, are receiving these messages. It’s not just me. I’m not the only one who is sharing the messages either. All I know is that I am blessed to be a vessel. Even though I have my doubts, fears and concerns about my life does not mean I am going to allow those things to take over my thought process. I went through a lot of struggle in the last two weeks. I’ve had to fight some ugly demons. I’ve released so much already, and now I’m moving on to the next phase of my release. What’s to come is unclear, but who cares! I will work on some more things that I need to release, of course, and I’ll go from there. One day at a time, right?

We are women. We are strong. We are capable. We are beautiful. It doesn’t matter what the tabloids say. It doesn’t matter who’s wearing what during some bullshit awards show. If only women would look at themselves in the mirror more often, what a wonderful world we would live in. Look at yourself naked. Look at yourself without make up on. Know your body. Touch it. Honor it. Love it. Cherish it. Respect it. Have a conversation with yourself. Look at your own eyes and have a conversation with that unknown person in the mirror. “Wow! Why have I never seen your eyes before? They’re beautiful.” Women, seriously! How often do we stare into our partner’s eyes and just feel like we’re floating away somewhere. Even if we’re not with that partner anymore, we know the feeling. Every woman has experienced it! Why not experience that while glancing into your own eyes? We are always searching for love and companionship from others, but what would life be like if we were able to do it for ourselves. Every little freckle is where it’s supposed to be. Every big stretch mark is a reminder of our physical growth. Every awkward scar, curve, or bump is a symbol of our uniqueness. That little indent on my thigh is a warrior’s wound. The funny lookin pinky toe I have on my left foot is only one thing about what makes me who I am. It may affect the way I choose my shoes, but it doesn’t change my ability to help others.

What do other people think about my body? They think it’s beautiful! My last three partners appreciated my body. They enjoyed my body. I honestly believe the reason they enjoyed it so much was because I enjoyed it with them. The last partner I was with really appreciated my body. I told him to though. I told him exactly what I wanted and if he wasn’t willing to give it to me, he wasn’t going to experience any part of me. I demanded it because I’m worth it. We have to be comfortable in our own skin to appreciate life at its highest form. 

What do I think about somebody else’s body? I think it’s beautiful. I think their bodies are beautiful because I know, just like my own body, they have war wounds. Those wars make us who we are as individuals. The more we share those stories, the more we learn about each other and the more we’re able to empower our lives together. It’s not something that happens over night, that’s for sure! I’m still working on my own personal image, and I’ve been mindful about it for over 8 years now. We’re always changing our fashion and our minds. We’re always changing, period! When something doesn’t work, we need to find a way to make it work. If it’s not broken, don’t fix it, of course. But, I believe until we are comfortable in our own bodies, our spiritual forms won’t be able to be completely free. We are not humans experiencing a spiritual moment in time, no; we are spiritual beings experiencing a human moment in time. Things get in the way of that and we start living a social norm life. We lost track of Spirit. It’s time we come back to Spirit.

For me, reconnecting to Spirit has taken years and I’m always working on more things. This detox/cleanse process has only been one small moment of personal growth. This is what I’m doing right now …

Sitting on my bed. I’m only wearing a pair of panties. I have my hair up all crazy. I’m sitting in the dark with my laptop resting on my knees while I’m leaning against my wall. I have my earphones on, playing 90’s r&b.

Yup, that’s right!

Doing this is part of the process. While I’m writing this blog, I’m thinking about the music that’s playing and I’m processing more of my past and facing my fears. It’s interesting.

What I’m saying is that every moment can be used as a way to empower yourself. We all live busy lives. People say it’s difficult to “find time.” But I don’t buy it! We have the power to change our routines. What we know as time was human made! We have the ability to move things around, stop doing things that hinder us and start new things. Yeah it’s harder then shit to do, but we can do it! We’re the only ones who are responsible for our lives. I learned that a long time ago. I cannot make choices based on what others need. I cannot live a certain way just because someone wants me to live that way. Yeah, I’ll compromise, of course, but I’ll be damned if someone tells me I cannot have my meditation time every day; sometimes twice a day. I don’t care where I am or who I’m with; if I feel the need to step away and center myself, I will. We all have that choice! We all have the power to do that.

So … stop making excuses … stop telling yourself you “can’t” … figure out what you really need in life and keep it in your life … change what you don’t like … try something new … if you’re scared, ask yourself why then encourage yourself that whatever the reason is isn’t stronger than your will power, and you have the strength to get through the fear … Forgive those who will never say “I’m sorry” … Reach out to an old friend you haven’t talked to in years … Call your mother, father, aunty, grandparent, sibling, cousin, best friend, neighbor …  Whatever you decide to do, just make sure you love yourself in the process! That’s most important, my friends!