saltyandsassynomad

[saltyandsassynomad]

Let me preface this by saying that I in NO WAY want to meet my end.  I do not have a desire to die.  In fact, quite the opposite.  I desperately want to be healthy, both mentally and physically.  More than anything I want to figure out what is wrong with me physically and have the time to heal mentally.  

I plead to the powers that be to find a purpose for this life, a reason for over four decades of trauma and suffering.  I do not want to meet my end but I can no longer “live” this way.  I am not living; I barely exist on even the best of days.  My life is a waiting game, waiting to see which will crack first: my mind or my body.  

So why am I doing this?  I have defeatedly admitted that I will likely become a statistic.  I can see two endings for my life.  My mind cracks and I eventually take my life or my body cracks and I die alone in my home.  

I have no one in my life, literally not even an emergency contact to give on any form that asks for one.  That means I will have no one to tell my story.  I do not want to be just another number in some report.  I want to have a voice.  These ramblings will serve as my voice.  

I know I am currently anonymous but I will tell my name in due time.  I’m still coming to terms with the reality of it all.  

I AM DESPERATE TO GET THE SUPPORT AND HELP I NEED TO BE WELL!!!!

Please, if you are having suicidal thoughts or you know someone in danger, please call the suicide prevention hotline (800) 273-8255.  You are loved and you matter.  

Day One (3/11/21)

The journey I am about to go on will have good days and bad.  I will feel like “I’ve got this; I will be OK” and the very next day I will want to crawl into a hole and hide until the world ends.  This is not a quick, spontaneous decision.  This is something that has plagued my conscious thoughts for many, many years.  I cannot imagine “living” the next 40 years of my life like this .

You will not see me use the word “live” without quotes because I am not alive.  I am merely consuming space and resources while providing nothing of value to the world as a whole.  That is not “living.”  That is existing at a bare minimum, and those are the best days I have.  Even bacteria offer something to the world.  I just waste resources.  

Again, please don’t take that the wrong way.  I do not think I have no value.  I feel like there’s an endless supply of potential just waiting to burst out.  I feel like no matter how excited I feel, how creative I am, how passionate I may be, as soon as I get to the edge of the explosion, the Universe say’s, “SIKE!” and I go ten steps back.  I can’t win for losing, as the saying goes.  

40 years of trauma will do a number on someone mentally.  It doesn’t matter how intelligent or educated they are. It doesn’t matter if they are aware of how irrational their thought process may be.  40+ years of unchecked and untreated trauma….fuck man, there’s only so much an organism can do to survive at that point.  

In addition to over 40 years of trauma, I am dealing with some chronic health conditions that have, until the last 6 months, basically gone undealt with.  After the initial diagnosis, I typically ran (I live in fight-or-flight mode everyday and it takes one bad event to send me running; I’ll get more into that later).  It could be I’ve had these conditions all my life and never knew or they could be the result of all the continued trauma.  

40+ years.

No, that’s not a typo.  I’m 44 years old and I’ve been the victim of abuse since I was a baby.  Each passing year + no treatment + additional trauma = this broken, battered, shell of a human.  

Today is day 1.  I wonder how many more there will be. 

4/10 - today was a below average day but not the worst I’ve had.

Stay well.  Love & Light.

[saltyandsassynomad]

I’ve been learning about Tarot.  I’m a total novice and as a way of making sure the information sinks-in, I write in a journal about each reading.  I figured I’d share it with the void known as Tumblr.  

The first two cards made complete and total sense.  The third one, not so much.  I’m trying to figure out how it ties into today’s reading.  

March 3, 2021

I’m not in the best of places right now and am really struggling to keep my head on straight.  There is so much going on; I’m totally overwhelmed.  I pulled a 3-card spread, inquiring about my future, specifically: where I am now, what I aspire to, and how will I get there.  

Where I am now: Page of Cups (upright) - creative opportunities, intuitive messages, curiosity, possibility.  The Page of Cups wears a blue tunic with a floral print and a beret on his head with a long, flowing scarf.  He stands on the shore with the wavy sea behind him, holding a cup in his right hand.  Surprisingly, a fish pops its head out of the cup and looks at the young man.  The fish and the sea behind him represent the element of water and all things to do with creativity, intuition, feelings, and emotions.  The unexpected appearance of the fish signifies that creative inspiration often comes out of the blue and only when you are open to it. 

The Page of Cups suggests a new idea or opportunity has come to you out of the blue.  Your creative energy is flowing and now the question is how you will express it.  Will you snap up this new idea and turn it into something, or will you let someone else bring it to fruition?  The Page of Cups invites you to have an open and curious mind.  Be open to anything - including a fish popping its head out of a cup!  It is with a curious mind that you will discover new aspects of your life and yourself.  Open your mind to all possibilities, especially those of a creative or intuitive nature, you will be pleasantly surprised.  Be ready to dream the impossible dream, and explore the magic of your fullest potential, even if it seems out of your reach.  The Page of Cups is asking you to embrace your inner child and believe that anything is possible.  

As each Page asks you to explore a new facet of yourself, the Page of Cups is asking you to explore your creative, emotional self.  You may start a new art class, read books about how to express your feelings, or learn more about developing your psychic abilities.  Dreamy aspirations race through your mind, and you may find yourself moved by simple things.  Don’t be afraid to let your feelings show and wear your heart on your sleeve.  

This card often appears when you are being called to trust your intuition and be open to the multitude of intuitive messages coming your way.  Look for synchronicities and signs from nature that will guide you on your path.  They may come from unexpected places, or they may not even make sense to your rational mind; be open to the possibility and ready to discover new aspects of yourself.  It is like following “intuitive breadcrumbs” - one intuitive clue leads you to the next thing, and the next, and the next.  And before you know it, you have found yourself in a place of full alignment, happiness, and bliss.  All by trusting your intuition and going with the flow.  

In a practical sense, the Page of Cups can indicate that you will receive an unexpected and pleasant surprise.  The Pages are often known as the messenger cards, and with the Page of Cups, you may receive a message related to the emotions, intuition, or creative endeavors.  It is not a surprise you can anticipate or force; be ready to receive when the time comes.  

What I aspire to: Four of Swords (upright): rest, relaxation, meditation, contemplation, recuperation. The Four of Swords shows a knight lying horizontally on a tomb.  He remains in his full armour, and his hands are in the position of prayer as a sign of rest.  One sword lies beneath the knight, symbolizing a single point of focus, and three swords hang above him, pointing downwards towards his head and torso.  The stained-glass window above him shows a woman and a child together.  

Upright: The Four of Swords tells you to rest before you take on the next challenge.  YOu have reached an important first milestone and must recharge your energy before the next phase begins so you are refreshed and ready to go.  Even if you are highly productive and driven, take time off from your busy schedule to restore your energy and heal the body and the mind.  Constant stress and tension will break even the hardest and most resilient of people but brief periods of rest enable you to refresh your energy, concentration, and focus so that you are ready for the next challenge. 

If you have been going through rough times recently, such as the trauma of a break-up or departure, relationship or family problems, financial and health worries, stress or conflict, then the Four of Swords comes as a sign to take a step back and regain perspective.  Now is the time to make decisions.

In fact, the Four of Swords presents a new challenge: to stay silent and inactive.  Now is the time to build up your mental strength by clearing your mind of any mental clutter or stress.  Meditate and spend time in a place that creates peace, calm, and tranquility for you.  You need to replenish your strength and spend time connective with your Higher Self.

The Four of Swords suggests the need for seclusion.  You need solitude to negotiate your situation and time apart from others to gather your thoughts and feelings.  Following on from the painful loss of the Three of Swords, this Four suggests your need to spend time alone to re-evaluate your life.  Solitude, although often difficult to bear, is necessary for you to recharge your batteries and rejuvenate your spirit.  This solitary experience always bears fruit in greater inner strength and confidence.  Retreat from pain, conflict and distractions, and rid yourself of stress and anxiety.  Ground and recharge yourself.  Look inward for real change and meditate daily.  

In a practical sense, the Four of Swords is an indicator that you need to take some time to review your progress so far.  This is an excellent time to reassess your priorities.  It is almost like conducting your own ‘post-implementation review’ following a major milestone or a significant challenge.  Create time and space to evaluate what has worked well, what has not, and what you need to change.  Pausing to reflect after each major challenge will position you well for success in the future.  

How I will get there: Queen of Swords (reversed) - Over-emotional, easily influenced, bitchy, cold-hearted.  

The Queen of Swords sits on a stone throne decorated with a cherub, representing the Queen’s softer side, and butterflies representing transformation.  She faces towards the future, with her left hand raised as if to receive, and in her right hand, she holds a sword up high and straight, representing her desire to find the truth in all matters.  Clouds accumulate in the sky and a strong wind that passes through the trees, symbolizing the ongoing nature of change.  

The Queen of Swords reversed points out that you may allow your emotions to get the better of you as you put your heart before your head.  YOu may be emotionally involved in a particular issue, and it could be distorting your perception of the situation at hand.  You need to use your head a bit more to understand what is happening and read the signals more accurately.  Take an objective look at what’s going on and decide what you need to do next.  

The reversed Queen of Swords suggests that your relationships are clouding your usually clear vision.  YOu are allowing others to dominate you and negatively affect your ability to make decisions.  You hesitate to pursue your plans because you don’t want to rock the boat or disrupt your relationships with others.  At the end of the day, however, you need to be more hard-edged, confident, and assertive to be successful.  Sharp analysis, objectivity, and careful consideration of (bot not necessarily choosing) the alternative are essential right now.  

At times, the reversed Queen of Swords can come across as cold-hearted, resentful, and bitchy, particularly if she is devoid of any emotion or compassion for others.  This card may represent a part of yourself or someone else you are trying to deal with.  You may be putting others offside and losing your supporter base, isolating yourself from others and being seen as narrow-minded, intolerant, and mean.

[saltyandsassynomad]

I Am A Strong Woman But A Vulnerable Child

circa 1995

This was written during an English class of my freshman year of college.  We were tasked with coming up with a title or tagline for ourselves.  What is below is exactly what I wrote; no changes have been made. 25+ years later and sadly I have many of the same feelings.  

The life I live now started when my parents got divorced, that was back in the 4th grade, 1986.  My little sister and I went to live with my mother and my older sister went to live with my dad.  Everything seemed to be going OK until my mom lost her job. Come to find out from the other relatives, it was because she was getting a little too personal with the patients she worked with.  I never found out if it was true or not.  Before she lost her job she met this man named Dennis.  He was a veteran of the Vietnam War and an amputee so my mom took an instant liking to him.  Both my little sister, Michelle, and I went to meet him at the hospital (after my mom lost her job).  He was very friendly to us and us to him.  Shortly after that he went to Wisconsin to “take care of some business.”  We talked to him almost everyday and seemed to be getting really attached.  On one of our weekend visits to our fathers house, something happened to my sister Michelle.  She decided she didn’t want to go home to Mom.  WHen I got home there was a cop talking to my mom.  Apparently Michelle and Dad were pressing child abuse charges against my mom, claiming she hit us with extension cords, belts, coat hangers, etc.  It was all true but the funny thing was that both my parents did this to us when they were married.  I don’t know what made Michelle change her mind and to this day it is one thing I will also never know.  

When Dennis got back from Wisconsin he and Mom decided to get married.  They didn’t have any rings so they used foil and made some.  They went down to the city hall and got hitched.  During the ceremony Dennis was very much drunk.  That should have been the first clue something was wrong.  Back at our apartment Dennis continued to drink.  While drunk he would go around in his wheelchair banging into the walls, leaving holes, scratches, and all other kinds of marks.  This led to the eviction of our “happy little family.”  Mom and Dennis decided to move to Oregon to start again.  This would have been OK except mom's car just got repossessed.  Their first goal was to find a car.  Since we had 30 days to leave the apartment they went looking for a car while I was supposed to be cleaning the apartment. If the work wasn’t done up to my mothers standards by the time she got home she decided that she wasn’t going to say anything to me but instead just walk up backhand me.  I was 9 years old.  Well we eventually got to Portland, Oregon.  Since we had nowhere to live, Dennis went to the VA hospital and got himself admitted.  There was a man there that had a family and offered to let me stay with them while Mom and Dennis found somewhere else to stay.  My new room with the family I didn’t know was in the basement of their house.  Luckily there was a school down the street so I went and enrolled.  Missing my other family members again, my mom still insisting that they didn’t want anything to mdow th me.  She had already told me this before and now I believed her.  I mean she was my mother and they hadn’t made any effort to contact me (actually they had and my mother was hiding it all from me).  She had basically brainwashed into believing they hated me.  I stayed with this family for about 3 months when Mom & Dennis decided they were going to move back to California.  They left me with the family I was staying with so they could go back and get everything set up.  This was only one of the many times in my life where I was left behind for something better.  

After about 3 more months with this family, they decided they didn’t want me there anymore.  I got moved to a shelter for pregnant and runaway teens.  I was still in the 6th grade.  I stayed there for about 6 months before Mom & Dennis came to get me.  We ended up in Concord, CA.  At first we stayed with this “lawyer” guy that Dennis knew.  I came to find out later that Dennis knew him through their drug deals with each other. Finally we lived in an apartment in a not-so-good part of town.  I enrolled in school again and finally finished 6th grade.  All the while neither Dennis nor my mother have a job.  They use his disability and go begging at churches for food.  Welfare and food stamps were a big part of my life.  During this time the abuse got worse.  It was not only physical but also mental and verbal.  Luckily never sexual like my earliest years.  

There was a school closer to my house than the one I was going to.  I had to transfer and once again had to leave my old school friends behind and make new ones.  At my new school I met a girl named Laura.  At first weren’t that good of friends but later in my life she became an instrumental part of helping me survive.  The problems at my house were getting so bad I ended up spending Christmas eve with my neighbor and her family.  My mom would tell me that no one wanted me because I was dirty and disrespectful.  When we were kids we were taught to never disrespect someone so where she got this idea, I don’t know.  She would also let Dennis’ mother call me a “dirty little Mexican whore” and not say anything.  One time she decided that she didn’t want me there anymore and made me pack all my stuff to move out (I was in 7th grade).  When I was done packing she had me put all my stuff on the porch and sit outside.  She finally decided that I could stay and made me unpack everything.  Another example are the times she would get me a dog, let me keep it for a few months, get attached to them then say “it ran away” while I was at school.  I know she gave them (more than one) away.  

One day in 8th grade I decided I couldn’t take anymore of the abuse so when my mother proceeded to hit me again I fought back and defended myself.  I threw a bowl at her and had to swing a walking stick to keep her off me.  She never hit me again.  

Shortly after that we got evicted again.  We lived in our car for a while then Dennis devised some plan to get himself admitted to a hospital so he had somewhere to stay.  The hospital was in San Francisco and my mom went to visit him all the time.  Some nights she would stay with him so that meant I was in the car by myself.  I eventually lived with my next door neighbor for a couple of weeks.  One day my mom called to talk to me and I told her I wanted to find my dad and stay with him.  She flipped out.  The next day when I came home from school my neighbor, Candy, told me “they’re coming to get you.”  A feeling told me inside that something bad would happen if I went with them, so I took off for Laura’s house (we had become good friends by this time).  I explained the situation to her mom and she was trying to help me out.  I ended up going to the police station and staying there for a while.  After explaining what happened, they decided the best thing for me was to stay in another shelter for troubled kids.  After some pushing and prodding, I got to stay with Laura.  My Mom didn’t fuss or fight or anything.  

That is until  a few weeks later when she decided that I needed counseling (for all 3 of us).  Since I admitted I wasn’t happy and had thought about dying, I was admitted to a special hospital where I spent a week.  By the time I left the hospital, they said my mother needed the evaluation not me.  I stayed with Laura and finished 8th grade.  I started prepping for high school when my Mom decided to stir everything up and cause problems.  By law when you don’t want to live with our parents and there is trouble in the house, you have to live with relatives before friends.  I chose my aunt and uncle in Pleasanton because they had more money than any other relatives and I was sick of being poor.  I never told them this and I never will.  

I left my old friends behind again.  I thought everything was going to be OK.  I even called my dad after not seeing him for over 4 years and talked to him.  We both cried.  Well to try and make a very long story shorter, he is now a very big drug addict along with my older sister.  My little sister now lives with another aunt and uncle.  My dad doesn’t care about me, only his drugs and I know this for a fact.  My mother and I haven’t spoken in over 5 years and right now I have no intention of speaking to her.  She is supposed to love me unconditionally and she didn’t.  No one ever has.  My aunt and uncle that I live with have negative feelings towards me because of my parents behaviors and actions.  They are doing everything they can to make me leave.  They are also mentally abusive.  Mostly my uncle.  But I’ve been through too much in my life to let this set me back.  I am determined to graduate from college.  No one in my family ever has.  

So you see, I am a strong woman in the aspect that I have been through so much and I can handle most anything.  I would never change a thing because it has made me stronger.  Except for one thing.  I am a vulnerable child when it comes to love.  No one has ever loved me unconditionally and it tears me apart.  There is a hole in my heart.  Everyone that I have remotely cared for has found someone or something better.  I have never been #1.  This will stay with me until the day I die. To know that your parents and even the rest of your family doesn’t want you around, can tear you apart.  I am a strong person and I will survive.  There is a reason this is all happening to me.  Well more than one.  One of them is I will never be like my parents or the rest of my family.  I can overcome anything...eventually.  

[saltyandsassynomad]

I AM

I am Magical & Passionate

I wonder why rolly pollies roll

I hear Nature come to life

I see my dreams float through the sky

I want to change the world

I am Magical & Passionate

I pretend that I can fly

I feel the wind beneath my wings

I touch the clouds with my feet

I worry that Mother Nature will die

I cry when I see her scabs & scars

I am Magical & Passionate

I understand that there is beauty all around

I say “hello” to the Spirits

I dream about Nature untouched

I am one step closer to pure

I hope to cleanse my soul in the ‘Pool of Life’

I am Magical & Passionate

[saltyandsassynomad]

Oh boy - I thought 2021 was going to be a “new year” but man was I wrong.  

I started the year determined to make some of my dreams/passions come to fruition this year.  As I’m driving down the road, heading back from my lunch break, I think to myself, “I’m MAKING this year different.  I will choose to be happy and see the beauty in life.  I will work hard every day to not only give Love and Light but to not dwell in the darkness. I am making my dreams come true.  This year will be different.”

A split second later I hear what sounds like tin cans rattling behind my car.  You know, like in the old movies when they’d tie cans to the cars of newlyweds?  I pulled over only to realize that my tailpipe was the reason for the sound; she was dragging on the ground.  I was in a somewhat rural area but was fairly close to the high school I was subbing at so I crept along and parked in the staff lot.  

I called for roadside assistance and was told that my policy didn’t have that coverage.  I was able to add the coverage but they put a five day hold on the service.  Luckily this happened on a Friday.  I explained this to the principal and he agreed to let me leave my car in the lot until the 6th day when I could have it towed.  

Now I had to figure out how to get home as the public transit doesn’t go out that far.  The closest bus stop was about a thirty minute walk so I made everything was zipped up tight and got ready to head out when the principal stopped me and told me that he would see if he could arrange a ride for me.  Every school has resource officers (usually the local police or sheriff) and he was able to get one of them to drop me off at home.  

Once the five day hold was up, I got up early that morning and called to have my car towed.  Then came the next obstacle - getting back to my car.  I had the keys and the tow truck couldn’t pick it up without them.  Again - no bus.  Being a substitute teacher I didn’t go back to work until late in January so I was basically off work for about a month.  So needless to say, I really didn’t have the money for a taxi.  I tried everything I could think of to get out there but wasn’t able to.  Normally I’d walk, I like being outside, especially when it’s cold but this was too cold.  It was close to 0.  I had to break down and spend my last $20 to take an Uber out there.  

Once the tow truck got there and loaded my car up, off we went.  On the way he tells me he needs to pull over.  When he comes back he tells me that my muffler and tailpipe have fallen completely off, no longer attached in any way.  He drops me and all the pieces off at the shop.  They are kind enough to give me a ride home.

I get a call from the shop the next morning and am given a cost of $1800 to repair it (I’m not surprised as she is over twenty years old & I don’t think she was all that well maintained).  But seeing as how I have only worked three days so far this year and I only paid $800 for the car, I decline.  They give me the number of someone else who might be able to do it for cheaper as he is a dedicated muffler shop. I call and explain the situation to him.  He agrees to take a look at the car but won’t be able to until the following Tuesday as he is semi-retired and only works T, W, Th.  I make arrangements to see him first thing the following Tuesday.

I hang up and begin getting the worst migraine I’ve had in a few weeks.  I’m out for the next two days.  Admittedly, I have issues with depression, anxiety, and mental health and this definitely did not help at all.

I get up bright and early the following Tuesday morning so I can hop on the bus and head to the first repair shop.  As I’m stepping off the curb, I slip and go down hard.  Instantly my brain starts screaming, “I BROKE MY FOOT, I BROKE MY FOOT, I BROKE MY FOOT!!!!”  I’m crossing a busy street and traffic is coming so I quickly jump up and limp/hobble across the street.  Knowing this isn’t good, I change direction and head to the closest ER.  Five hours later, I’m sent home with crutches and numbers for two follow ups.  They wanted to put me in an orthopedic boot but didn’t have my size.  They didn’t see any significant breaks in my foot but thought I possibly tore a tendon or something.  

It’s icy and snowy outside so the crutches were basically useless as I was on public transit but I took them anyway.  

I made it home but was unable to fill the prescriptions they gave me because I wasn’t able to walk to the pharmacy.  Back to bed I went with another migraine.  

I wake up the next morning and hobble to the bus stop so I can get my car from shop A to shop B.  It’s snowing outside but I have to leave my windows down so I can breath.  If I don’t, I’ll get carbon monoxide poisoning (no muffler = no protection).  Shop B tells me he can repair everything for about $650 but is unwilling to take payments so I politely thank him for taking a look and walk out to my car.  

It must have been perfect timing because my insurance policy was about to expire and needed to be renewed; I have eight days left on the policy.  I can’t afford to repair the car; my only option was to scrap it.  There’s no point in having insurance if I don’t have a car.    Grocery shopping, laundry, etc is pretty difficult when you’re on a bus so I decide to spend the next eight days getting as much as I can done before the insurance runs out.  I do a major grocery shopping trip (thankfully I was approved for Food Stamps), get all the supplies I need for my furbabies, do laundry, and get appointments made for my foot.  

I had two different appointments for my foot and was ultimately put in an orthopedic boot.  A follow up, with additional x-rays, was scheduled for two weeks out. The x-rays didn’t reveal any signs of healing; I have bad feet to begin with and the doctor was trying to determine if the abnormalities she saw in the first x-rays were from the accident or if I was born with them.  With no signs of healing that indicates I was born with them.  The final prognosis was a torn tendon.  But with progress being made, I was only given an additional two weeks in this super fancy boot.  

Keep in mind it’s snowing and sometimes dipping below zero.  Plus the sidewalks aren’t getting shoveled so I’m having to walk in the street.  All while trying to keep my foot dry and warm.   

I wasn’t able to sub anymore but thankfully I tutor two kids in the afternoons and that at least gives me enough to pay my phone bill.  

But wait...the kid that I tutor five days a week, he fathers sends me an email that was meant for his teacher.  The email goes into detail how he doesn’t think my tutoring is helping his son at all, how disappointed he is in my performance, and he wants to switch to another tutor but can’t do so until he finds a replacement.  The funny part is he has said the same things about the teacher to me and I am his son's fourth tutor.  The problem lies in the fact that they do NOTHING to help the kid at home, nothing!  He has attention problems to begin with and he is in remote school.  

Let’s not forget the father telling me that DCFS (department of child and family services) was called on him by someone from school.  That’s a whole other story.  Ugh!

I replied to the email and simply said, “I don’t think you intended this for me.”  His response was to pay for the one day I tutored his son that week and cease all contact with me.  So the main source of money that I did have is gone.  I only tutor the other child two days a week.  It’s better than nothing but it definitely doesn’t pay the bills.  

I’ve applied at the other district right next to my house but they only have two schools in the district (it’s tiny!).  I haven’t worked for them yet.  It’s almost March and I’ve only worked three days this year.  

So I’m basically unemployed, can’t pay rent or utilities, having a hard time getting around with a bum foot, and seriously struggling to keep my head on straight.  

I see your 2020 and I raise you my 2021.  

[saltyandsassynomad]

As far as my sexuality is concerned, I’ve never felt the need to make a big declarative speech.  I simply lived my life how I wanted to and didn’t give two shits about what others thought.  I’d always said “straight people don’t make a speech about being straight.  Why should people who aren’t straight make one?”  (Granted this was made easier by the lack of family in my life but that’s a whole other season of “What Dumpster Fire Do You Call A Family?”)

I am a middle-aged woman (a lady never reveals her age “winky face”) and when I was coming of age we didn’t have all the terms that are now available to describe the various orientations that make up the beautiful rainbow of life.  I knew of the big 3: heterosexual, homosexual, and bisexual.  I had a tumultuous childhood/upbringing (yet another season of “WDFDYCAF?”) and thinking about my sexuality wasn’t really a priority; not that I felt stifled or scared to talk about it; I was simply dealing with much larger issues at the time.  Tune in next season on “WDFDYCAF?” and you’ll find out.  I lost my virginity to a male and primarily dated & hooked-up with guys but there was always the attraction to females as well.  Therefore, I identified as bisexual.  

While I identified as bisexual, I had never imagined myself married to a woman, just a man (of course with a girlfriend on the side “winky face”).  I’m not sure why I felt that way; maybe it was because there wasn’t a strong presence of anything else readily available.  But this never fully satisfied my soul.  It always felt like work, something that needed to be done, not something that was enjoyed.  First I would say it was because I hadn’t met the right guy so I kept searching and searching and marrying and divorcing (you can find out more about that shit show on “WTF Did I Just Do?”) and searching and dating and searching and searching (remember I’m a middle-aged woman so that’s a LOT of searching).  

Maybe it was because all good things take work, right?  I mean that’s what all the pillows on Etsy say don’t they?  Maybe I needed to work harder at making relationships work (this is where the disastrous marriage came into play).  

When that didn’t work, I thought I might need to direct that hard-working attitude towards myself.  Given the family I was born into and the upbringing I had, I have a tons of trauma to work out and a fuck-ton of baggage to unpack.  This is a work-in-progress.  I am a work-in-progress #UnderConstruction 

Not wanting to deny the feminie aspect of my sexual attractions, I started to learn about open relationships and polyamory.  I enjoy the fluidity and openness of an honest ployamorous relationship.  I’ve found them to be much more in touch with their feelings, more open to listening about others feelings, and easier to be myself around.

Unfortunately there are MANY toxic and unhealthy relationships out there, including in the polyamorous communities.  I could write a book on this chaos but I’ll save that for another day.  While I did my best to distance myself from those relationships, I did encounter them and it was enough for me to realize that this wasn’t a lifestyle for me.  I want to be someone’s number one, someone’s one and only.  Those feelings are the opposite of polyamory.  I’m glad I had a chance to explore polyamory but I can definitely say it was a phase (in the cliched sense of any sexual choice we make is a “phase”).  

Once I realized my desire to number 1, I stopped having casual sex, I became celibate by choice.  Not because I am opposed to it but because I’m tired of meaningless encounters.  I want to make love to someone not just have sex with them.  I want the connection, the intimacy, the closeness and that’s not usually found in a one-night stand.  I’m currently at 4 years, 7 months, and 13 days sexually sober.  

Don’t get it twisted...I haven’t had sex with anyone ELSE in that time.  With myself?  Now that’s an entirely different story #SelfLove #GetYouSome

Then in March of 2020 COVID-19 hit & threw us all for a loop.  We all found ourselves stuck at home, quarantining with nothing to do (remember back in the beginning when stores were running out of TP and we even had problems getting things delivered? Oh, the good ol’ days, lol).  Most of us turned to social media to fill our time.  Being ‘old school’ I usually turned to Facebook.  Tired of all the drama that fills up the newsfeeds, I usually went straight to the video section and started scrolling.  I could get lost there for hours on end.  

Getting bored with seeing the same old things time after time, I took someone’s suggestion and looked into TikTok.  I was hooked instantly!  It was basically all the videos that I was watching on FB but shorter and more entertaining.  This is how I began to fill my socially distanced life.  I found videos about cooking, animals, crafts, and more.  They were sarcastic, funny, sentimental, weird, goofy, everything that I find enjoyable.  

Then came the ‘thirst traps’ and damn were they delicious!  I had no idea what a thirst trap was but I knew I liked them.  After a quick Google search I found my explanation and went right back to the Tok.  

As we all know, the algorithm will feed you more and more of what you like.  It took a little while for it to kick out the male thirst traps and replace them with the female ones and down the rabbit hole I went.  The further I went, the more content I felt I connected with (crafty algorithm).  The more I connected, the more my mind wandered (ADD - it does this often “shoulder shrug”).  Then one afternoon while doing dishes something clicked in my head.  All the sudden I had this thought of sitting on the couch watching TV with my WIFE sitting next to me, not a girlfriend, not someone I was fooling around with casually, not even someone that was a friend but we hooked up occasionally.  Nope.  I imagined my wife!  That was the first time in all my years (still not telling you my age “smirk”) that I ever thought of myself married to a woman.  The sense of ease, peace, and comfort I felt in that moment was like none other.  It didn’t seem like work.  It seemed like home.  

For the first time in my life I felt like I was home.  

You have NO IDEA what that means to me.  I am a middle aged woman without a home.  I’m a rootless nomad.  To feel at home...I...well...it left me, the Loquacious Lady, at a loss for words.  From that moment on I knew I wasn’t pansexual, bisexual, into polyamory, or anti-marriage...I was simply hardcore lesbian who never realized it.  

So there you have it Tumblr: My Coming Out Speech, something I never, ever thought I’d make.  Having no family (toxicity) and no real life friends to share this with (mental health has thrown me for a loop), I am telling you, the anonymous void, that I am a lesbian. 

Happy Taco Tuesday!

LMFAO...I’ve always loved tacos and this day has a whole new meaning now!  OMG, I’m dying!  

That is all.

Cheers!