#just wanna write the build up of a relationship before it becomes toxic and garbage

[felteverywhere]

lemme play your muse’s toxic bf and then the person who helps her get over them in the end.....

[watcherfenix]

A Vent long time coming

It feels like it has been ages since I wrote anything.  There is so much I wanna write and comment on, simply hard to pin just one idea down. So, in sticking with the theme of vulnerable journey treading and wanting my experiences to help someone out there. I am going to decompress the last years and possibly go into more at a later date. I have been in limited contact with people for close to 3 years. This is due to moving to a new country compounded with COVID, which killed many attempts at being social. Coupled with that polite racism of Canada and recovering from a very traumatic breakup, have been in a low place. Also, in transition for a work visa which has been slowed due to COVID. Depression and PSTD make leaving the place is a chore and a constant mental battle. I was able to do a year of college in a small-town university. Learned a lot and nothing all at once. Learned about myself. Learned about my own Blackness (and still learning). Of course, this caused me to look at my life experience through a new lens as if pages have been restored in a tattered book. Seeing how my old, colonized self parroted some toxic garbage and did some” ignorant passable shit “that I wished I had never said or did. Angry at my parents for trying so hard to “protecting “me from my own Blackness. Leaving me under-prepared for the world I was going to be a part of. Instead, my father tells me as an adult, I am ungrateful and “raised by wolves,” and I told him I hated him. Pissed that he presented his side of the family as dangerous, volatile and “ghetto” and that being gay and black was asking for a short life in the family. Causing me to be averse to wanting to meet them.   But with time, I will be able to accept “all of me.” By learning another country’s history, I realized I was on the wrong side of history. Referring to my time in the military and playing a role in destabilizing the Middle East (something the US military has quite a long track record of doing). This affects me in a couple of different ways. First, being a part of pain and suffering on such a grand scale goes against who I believe. Secondly, knowing that it is a family legacy (father being a weapons contractor after being retired Air Force and had a few generals in the family too). Lastly, I lost friends and a lover to the machine known as the military-industrial complex. And knowing that the government is getting worse makes their deaths sting a bit more than I care to admit. Thinking about my time in the military fills me with bittersweet memories now tinged with some guilt and shame. While I had stewed in these thoughts for long periods of time. Slowly getting comfortable with these truths. Only to be slammed with the ugliness that is America’s racism. Seeing white friends during BLM and all that led up to it go silent or worse, shit on the idea of BLM. Gay community leeches off black culture while making claims of being inclusive makes me want to rage cry. Seeing so much Racism and colorism in communities I used to call these spaces, my home is now quite repulsive . I was hoping for too much, wanting my communities to be supportive. Genuinely supportive, helping people because it is right, not causes it's trending.  Wish POC communities would stop internalizing and perpetuating hate and start lifting each other up. Instead of determining “blackness” and gender roles. It has been absolutely heartbreaking to see so many people passing in such a short time frame. I am reminded of my older friends sharing their tales of the AIDs crisis and survivals guilt. I feel weird knowing these people for a while online, just too sudden.. they are gone. I develop a connection with these people but feel I cannot claim it because other people that knew them spent time with them in real life. Deep down, there is a feeling that my connection is less than because I am unable to meet these people. I do not fully subscribe to this idea, but every time another FB friend or friend dies, it comes to my mind. And I honestly do not know what to do with it. Though the thought of friends that have pass makes me feel things. I cannot help but mourn the relationships lost because of my selfishness, drugs, or toxic relationships before people I called my family. The concept of family seems and feels so foreign to me now, yet I still hunger for one.  My parents and sister's relationship was polarizing and taking a toll on my mental wellness.  But cutting ties with them does not make me feel better. Sure enough, feel guilty and ashamed because of some internal nagging feeling I needed to try harder to work things out. Must remember why I had to cut ties with them. I had to, being with them caused me so much emotional and spiritual pain, I would later choose homelessness than ask for their help again. Yet, I still love them just do not want them in my life or do not want to share my life with them anymore. Does not make processing the loss of my bio family any easier. It does feel more correct than sticking with them. I wish I were a better friend. I often feel like a failing friend. I regret missing so many chosen family life events. Missed both of my brother’s weddings a few people’s graduations. Burned a lot of bridges protecting people that were later discovered to be trash. Wish I could send messages to say I am sorry. Just feel too much has either happen or too much time has gone by to bring it up now. The feelings and thoughts build up so much that it stresses me out and becomes intrusive thoughts shaming me out of evening trying. And having been burned by so many shitty relationships, feel less like... me. More like a by-product of all the lessons I learn. A by-product that is very wary of trying to make new friends or form new relationships. To be honest, I struggle with who I am and have been struggling with my self-image for three years now. So, trying to attempt new friendships seem out of my depths. Trying to be compassionate and kinder to myself …. when... I feel I need to be better and stronger than average. Sadly, I am my own worse jailer and serving life sentences for things that I just do not know why anymore. My brain gets so loud feels like my brain is grated with sandpaper. Depression, shitty world events, insomnia and PTSD, have caused me to disassociate to the point time has no meaning to me and staying in the moment is getting harder to do. Battling the idea that this is a dream or this reality is unreal. I really dislike being dissociative like this, reminds me too much of when I was doing meth and how quickly the time went by and how time was filled up with all other manners of things. Also reminds me of the time I almost cut myself to discern between reality and dreams. Grateful I have my husband to keep me grounded. He makes me smile when I am down. Somedays, he is the only thing keeping me here. My mind is full, and my heart is heavy. The road is long and the burden heavy, but I will be moved forward in some way. Thank you for your time, love

Fenix