briannacabralll

[briannacabralll]

Birthday Blog #27

Dear world,

This is the third birthday that I've had to spend without my late fur son Reggie (Reginald) Mundo. I've done my best to figure out who I am when my identity was being Reggie's mom for the greater of nearly 13 years. 

There was a time when I mentally abandoned the girl I grew up being for the sake of escaping the pain that it was to feel that I couldn't be the same person who experienced the joy and profound love that was being your best friend, mom, and soul mate. Admittedly, the flirtation of escaping reality through identity fluctuation (and through a literal break in reality) was appealing when I believed it would be the fresh start to a new world, a new self, that I could begin in your painfully obvious absence.

These days, I've done the work to stop trying to escape who I am, heal my relationship with my natal sex, and reuse the femininizing language that was once used to describe me as your mother.

I loved the way you looked around left and right when our family would scream "Brianna!". But it began to hurt to hear my name when I knew I wouldn't be able to see your head pop up again looking for me on this tangible earth.

For a short time, following the year I lost you, I mentally existed outside of my natal sex, outside of my birth name, outside of a world that is grounded in reality. It was the only coping mechanism I could find at the time to help me through the process of losing you and trying to figure out the "me" that was supposed to exist without you. 

It pushed me to explore a world of cross sex hormones, surgeries, and body contours - all of which were cautiously denied to me - because it wasn't what I really needed to heal from the pain of losing myself without you (and it also would have been quite the drain on my pockets!)

I am now course-correcting, and seeking the proper treatments for the type of psychiatric issues that I do have. 

I now visit a psychiatrist, identity specialist, and general counselor to help explore the nuanced experience to the place I've found myself in life and treat my TOCD, BD, psychosis recovery, PTSD, & potentially many other issues. And, I cry. I cry because that's what I always should have allowed myself to do. 

I love you, for making me a boy mom, for making me the most grateful person, for teaching me unconditional love, for making me laugh, for enabling in me the profound emotions that a human could experience. 

[briannacabralll]

Diagnosed BP1

I received a BP1 diagnosis over a year ago. After experiencing psychotic mania, I was overwhelmed by feelings of shame, guilt, and loss of sense of self.

It truly ruined my sense of ego and I struggled to get it back. In my psychotic mania, I did and said many embarrassing things that I wish with all my heart I could take back. I did my best to apologize to the people who I had believed I had hurt. That was another thing that was cripplingly embarrassing for me - the need to apologize.

It's painful to go through a difficult time in life that catastrophically changes your world view (in a negative way) and then be held accountable for behaviors that you could not control and feel like it's your responsibility of some sort to correct it.

People have seizures, heart attacks, painful falls to the ground, and very obviously require assistance from others, and in none of those scenarios do those individuals ever need to apologize for what they go through. I have a sort of resentment for my condition, because it's one of those things where you have a crisis of health, must apologize, but are never able to expect forgiveness for. As mentioned earlier, those who seize up are never expected to apologize and therefore are never in need of forgiveness, they're allowed to casually move on with their lives because they have an innate understanding that their health condition is separate from who they are as a person. People with BP don't always get to experience that luxury, instead we're left with the trauma of the experience, the trauma that others tell us they experienced at our hands, and we're left feeling like secondhand (or less than that) humans.

[briannacabralll]

Heaven’s Pretend (Year 2022)

Here we are again, wasted side by side

Drowning underneath the currents, under the tide

The water life surfaced to drown me I’ll be swallowed

‘Til my skin sheds, bones break, and become hallowed

Out into a carving of what a human used to be

Shining out what was left of her old positivity 

A retired battle suit from a war that was never won

Losing herself, tearing off an angel’s blood-bathed wings because

She lost her son

If the little king no longer stands, she is ready for 

Life to falter 

Skipping the body of christ, ditching ‘im at the alter

Passed out on the church corridor, chronic houselessness

Led me into this world as a foreigner

Without speaking the language of man, who will I find

For me to understand

The words you speak scream or mumble, stupidly staring

Blindly blurring vision my shame made me humble

I lose my sight I want to fall into the streets at night

Lose and never gain again because I’m fearing I’ll

Never see my son again

The poisoned lake we drink and intake, I promise it won’t

be a mistake

If you lead me into it now, it can be easy if you just make it so

Don’t know that I want to persevere anymore though

I used to pray for the healing of the worst grief

My mind without you has no place and aches in disbelief

Whose a mother without her child, the pain it seeps into me

I rock and scream, tantrum violently, a beast in me so wild

My son, I miss you so, never wanted to see you go

To hold and feel you again, I would die and wish me

Heaven’s pretend, to hold and see you again, i would

Wish myself death and enter Heaven’s pretend,

You’re an angel with your wings, bring me lullabies

In my sleep.

In the astro-world I would search far for you, so deep

Because I love you so, never dreamed of letting you go,

Because i love you so, I also must let me go,

Whose a mother without her child, a beast released into 

the wild

so you let me know, when you’ll heal the pain, so you

let me know, when the grip of man is ready to release 

me and let me let me let me

you let me, you let me, you let me

Let me go 

Let me go,

Let me go, let me go, let me go go go.

08/05/22, because I miss my son.

[briannacabralll]

I’m 25 and sad now, nice to meet you.

It is now nearly eight years since I wrote my very first and only blog here on Tumblr. I had forgotten I created an account, but through a matter of twists and turns life gave me, I ended up here again. 

My tone is a bit somber these days because I’ve “grown up” as you might call it. I almost want to call myself 26, but I’m actually twenty-five and wondering who I want to be at twenty-six.

Right now I understand that I am in a serious grieving process after the loss of my son, my twelve year old son. Some may misconstrue my intentions when I say I lost a child, but I would disagree and proclaim the life I led and lived with him for 12 years was more than most. My son was my best friend, soul mate, and the infinite apple of my eye. He still is, even without being able to have him in physical form. He resides in the spirit realm now and I do believe he watches above me and protects and guides my family for loving him unconditionally and doing all in our power to caretake him, even when his medical conditions became grave. 

While we mourn him, we also fight ourselves everyday to get up, to smile, to hold our chins up, because I believe we’ll meet again in the kingdom of heaven. He left behind a legacy, he was a dad, a husband, a father, and even a grandfather. 

My mother is actually the primary caregiver of his grandson, we call him the “babie” because he’s the youngest of his clan. 

There’s a lot of holes to this story, but as of right now, this is all I can think to write for blog number two. If you can understand how painful a loss is, especially when it’s someone you spent every single day of your life with, then you know life becomes confusing, disorienting, and at times, meaningless.

I’m here today, on the 27th of July, logging on and taking a chance on myself because of my son. Because his life and soul are beautiful stories to tell and through the strength of the memories he has instilled in me forever, of his love, affection, I will do my best to push forward and look for endless ways to keep his memory alive.

If you’d like to support, read on.

#q8 #askmewhattheq8storyis #lovelivesforever2021 #mysonlivesforever∞

“The greatest lessons are the ones you don’t remember learning” (from Somewhere in America) by Belissa Escoloedo, Zariya Allen, and Rhiannon McGavin.

[briannacabralll]

I recently came across a few brilliant artists that I found by website hopping and YouTubing. After learning about spoken word poetry from a scholarship contest called the "Behind the Curtain Slam," I was interested in the different poetry organizations that Power Poetry's website provided in a local search bar. In my search for organizations in Los Angeles, I found "Get Lit." As I read more about Get Lit's inspiring work and vision of advancing literacy through poetry, I was more than interested in experiencing the thrill of watching Get Lit's admiring collection of artists in action.

My YouTube search "Get Lit" had some funky results, but I found what I was looking for: "Changing the World, One Word at a Time! l The Queen Latifah Show" Yes you read it right, The Queen Latifah Show! I was so surprised to see members of Get Lit on television because I had no idea Get Lit was so big. I envisioned the organization as a club with a meeting place to read, write, listen and maybe share a cup of coffee every now and then, but never in front of a camera, a live audience, or Queen Latifah! 

The Queen Latifah Show presented Get Lit's Zariya Allen, Belissa Escobedo, and Rhiannon McGavin who performed an original piece titled "Somewhere in America." Their performance gave me the chills, and the entire time that I spent watching it, I was trying to figure out what it was that I was experiencing. I love listening to music, reading literature, watching movies, and it was like the pleasure center of my brain was overwhelmed with this blend of it all. So I think it's safe to say, I liked it.

It may sound geeky to fan over such a thing, but my first encounter with spoken word poetry was absolutely stellar thanks to Get Lit's crafty trio of young teenaged girls. Although very young, these artists were beautifully aged in thought, word, and performance. So thanks again to Get Lit, for introducing me to a talented generation of youth, and to a new form of art and expression!