Day 1

You know when you have a faucet leaking, that drip, drip, drip. It echoes in my head. Trying to grab my attention. Each drip is like a piercing scream that travels through my ears into my head. My mind is loving it. Yet she’s so upset. Because she’s outdoing herself, yet I’m telling her to f*ck off.

Today is a new day. Today my heart trembles, but it trembles with love. Because I’m letting it tremble, and it’s scary. It’s scary that I’m not listening to her, my mind. She has played me for many years, putting my hands behind my back, tying them tightly and telling me I’m free. This is freedom. She doesn’t realize that I know her game now. And I that I had to do is pull hard enough to rip those ties off.

It still tries to grab me. It’s reaching her arms trying to pull back my arms yet I’m not going down. She hates it.

I will live my life free. I will free it from my mind and let the love that I am that is within me come out.

Painting feelings

Saturday I woke up with a pressure on my chest. That feeling lingered. My husband got home yesterday from a gig out of state, he hadn’t slept in almost 2 days. At 3:30 pm, he was in bed until this morning around 9 am.

I felt this loneliness. This void in my chest, in my life. Sometimes I feel we are closer than ever, that our marriage is stronger than ever. Then there’s days I feel the saddest person in the world. Today was one of those days.

He got up, did some car repairs and left to run errands. My heart broke. I hadn’t seen him in a couple of days and as soon as he’s here he leaves again. I needed to get it out or at least attempt to. I took out a canvas and paint brushes and I started painting what I feel the most to paint, a face.

I see faces. They’re always in my head. I can’t really see their details but they’re always there. I don’t know why I avoid painting them. I started with a sad colorful man, and then did a second woman. Actually she’s also sad. All of my faces are sad. I think she’s actually a man. A clownish pathetic man. Maybe I’m afraid to paint them because they reflect something inside me. But what’s so wrong about that? I feel the need to get them out.

My husband saw the paintings when he came home. He liked them actually, I saw it in his face. It lit me up and made me emotional to think I block out what I shouldn’t. He told me I needed to paint my faces.

Today I make a promise to myself. I will paint those faces that linger and haunt me at times. Those faces that sit like shadows behind my thoughts. Those faces that laugh at me at times, the ones that cry with me and the ones that reflect that happiness, that twinkle in my eye. I will paint them. They need to see the world, and the world needs to see them. They exist for a reason and I have kept them in secret for way too long. Not anymore.

I can always change, You can always change

I always thought myself as a bit awkward. Someone that is just a bit socially awkward. The one that will cancel plans last-minute because she wasn’t brave enough to tell you no the first time. The one that doesn’t want to be around people because it gets her anxious and all she can think of is her imperfections. The one who will also suffer silently. The one who will dwell in deep depression and believe that is where she is meant to be for the rest of her life. Yes, she might be able to temporarily get out of that deep hole she has been digging herself into but ultimately she will gladly jump back in. Why? because that’s how I am. That’s my brain. My brain was designed to live in depression, melancholy, solitude and unhappiness. Right?

But you know what? That is not true. I am not designed if that is the correct word to use, to be an unhappy, bitter, depressive, and melancholic human being. I don’t know why I decided I was going to be like this for the rest of my life. I have no idea what caused me to make that determination about myself. I don’t have time to dwell in the past and try to dig into what caused me to get to that point in my journey.

Do you know what  I do have time for? Now. This present moment. I have time for this precise moment only. There is no way for me to change what I have done, what I have thought, or said. I don’t have time to think about the future. I can make plans and work hard towards my future but ultimately anything I do, I do now. I do in the present moment. I am learning everyday to live in this moment and this moment only.

I have plagued my life with this disease on concentrating on the past. On holding on to the worse moments of my life and not letting go. Then bringing them up at any moment to remind myself how miserable I am and how unhappy the present moment is just because that thing happened to me 5 yrs 3 months 7 days ago….or whatever it is. I have lived my life this way. I am 33 years old and I have lived like this all my adult life. Do you realize what that means? It means I have wasted all this years in despair. For absolutely no reason. If there is a reason I still have yet to find out the purpose of this. I want to bang my head in a wall in anger. But then it dawns on me if I continue to do that, dwell on my past actions I will definitely never get of this hole and seal it forever.

I have no idea when I will write exactly about my experience with my Ayahuasca ceremony. I took the medicine and she’s working me. She’s still in me and working her way through me. My first week after doing Ayahuasca was a rollercoaster of emotions. I would wake up with this pain in my stomach. I would bend over the toilet seat trying to throw up on an empty stomach because all I could feel was this huge heaviness in my soul, in my body, in my stomach and violently needed to leave my body. The first 2 days I spent shaking. Literally shaking, even when I talked I felt my lip trembling. I couldn’t control it.

My mind was losing it’s power and it didn’t like it. My mind wants to be in control at all times. She wants to take the wheel. She has taken the wheel for most my life. Who am I to take that power away from her now? Well…she was fighting back with all her might. I still don’t believe I have defeated her. One day, I felt this peace, this stillness in me. And I realized I got it. This is me. This stillness is who I am meant to be. I am in control. I am happy, peaceful and calm. The next morning while showering, my black, heavy feeling came back. I knelt in the shower throwing up stomach acid and sobbing. No, it’s not over yet. It’s not that easy. My mind is not easy. What makes you think a week will heal you? It was like I hit a brick wall.

I still have a lot of work to do. I realize now. This journey isn’t over. But I am almost on my 3rd week of doing drinking the medicine. I’ve cried so much. I’ve screamed on the way to work. I’ve had diarrhea, nausea, vomit, and dizziness. Yet even with all those symptoms I feel this cleansing power in me. I feel my body is healing of years of trauma that I have caused myself. My relationship with my husband went through hell these last few weeks, yet I feel closer to him. I feel we are both at the same level and are working to heal each other before we can heal our relationship. It is the most precious thing. Being able to heal yourself. When you heal, everything is easier. I accept myself, I am loving myself now. I haven’t felt this way about myself in years.

Believe that you can change if you really want to. Believe that this darkness isn’t who you are. It may be what you experiencing now and have been for a while but it’s not who you are really. You are, you just are. You are not your mind. You are not the stories you tell yourself everyday. You are not those emotions that suddenly creep up on you and cause turmoil in your head and body. Take a deep breath, close you eyes, acknowledge the thoughts and feelings that come to you when you do this. But as soon as you acknowledge them as a feeling or thoughts let them go. And focus on your breathing, that’s you. THAT is you. Don’t let that tool, that amazing and intelligent too we have and call mind take over you. Your mind doesn’t control you, you control your mind. It is your tool to use when YOU need it. Don’t give it the power it doesn’t have.

Free yourself. I am freeing myself. Do the same.

Ayahuasca

Today I’m taking the medicine. I’ve been preparing for days. I am terrified. Maybe it will help me understand me. Maybe it will help me love me. I am scared of shitting my pants. I am afraid of having a panic attack.

Can I make it through it? What will I experience? Am I afraid of what I will discover? What I’ll discover about myself…

I don’t have any idea what will happen and at the same time I have all these things in my mind that I believe will happen.

I am confused but ready. I’ve been wanting to do this for over a year, close to two. The drive there will seem eternal. I appreciate the sky, the sun, the wind a bit more today. I look at my husband and wonder what goes on in his mind. Sometimes I feel I married a stranger. Other times that we talk and think the same things because were soulmates and eternally connected.

Aya what will you show me?

Rollercoaster Summer of emotions

I started my new position June 1st. I am now a case manager. Mid June I started another relationship in my life. Not a regular relationship. Have you heard of polyamory? Yeah…so my husband and I started a relationship with another woman. My summer has been and up and down of emotions. A river of tears and heartache.

I have absolutely no judgement for anyone adventurous enough to consider it. I found out the hard way that it’s not something that I want to do, that I can do. I still ache. I still cry. I have a 40 minute commute to work on which sometimes I scream because no one can hear me. On the way back I scream, but now the pain seems more concentrated from the day so it’s more intense. Tears now flow as I scream and bang my steering wheel. I often wonder if other drivers have seen me. Then I try to sing as loud as I can while I wipe my tears and try to compose myself before I get home.

I don’t want my children to see how devastated, how broken and empty I feel. I don’t want to show this to my husband.

My advice to you if you ever decide to bring someone into your relationship, beware…someone may fall in love. And someone might not. And hearts will be broken.

I did not fall in love. And I am heartbroken. Nothing is ever as it seems. Don’t plan, your plan will not be executed like you intended.

Don’t expect. Don’t dream. Don’t fall in love unless you know they are in love too, all of you are in love too.

I only wish I could prevent others from going through this. But I can’t. This summer love left me exhausted. I am emotionally drained. I’ve lost 12 lbs in the last month. I don’t remember the last time I cried so much. I threw up and felt nauseous for almost 2 weeks.

I’m done with this pain. Fuck you pain. Fuck you.

I did it. I changed my hair.

My hair appointment lasted 4 hours. It strangely went by fast. Its hard to find people that I can relate and connect and be able to maintain conversation without completely faking it. I was able to do it with this hair lady. The talk was non stop. For some reason I build myself with courage and for those few hours I let go of fears or what ifs. I let her touch my hair, wash it, bleach it, dye it and style it. I even made it to her Instagram account.

We talked family, kids, marriage. Those 4 hours flew by. And most of all I liked my results. I felt her honesty.

My husband didn’t know what I was doing. When he saw me he couldn’t believe it. He was in awe. He just stood there with his jaw dropped. He told me he couldn’t believe I had done something like this. It made me feel proud of myself. I crossed that line and stepped out of my normal boundaries. At 33 I finally let it happen. It may not be major thing for some but for me this is huge. It’s of a gigantic magnitude. I feel proud. I feel brave.

I’ve always had my dark brown hair. For a while I went with black. And that’s it. Now look at me!

My next challenge: professional pedicure.

Stepping out

Today I am stepping out of my comfort zone. I’m writing this waiting to get my hair done by a complete stranger, whom I contacted on my own without no third party involved.

My coworker was looking through hairstyles and I said wow that looks good. She said I should do something like that. I laughed and said I wish. I’ve had my natural hair color for years. I did dye my hair black for a while but that was years ago. And of course I did it myself, no stranger touching this hair. I’ve had my natural hair for years.

After that conversation my thoughts were craving. Just going back and forth. Should I do this? Should I take a leap and go for it? Yes I should.

The next day I found a stylist, messaged her and set an appointment. I’ve never met her. And I’m letting her so close to me. She’s going to touch my hair. And wash it.

I have a slight discomfort in my stomach. I feel this tingling sensation in my arms. I can do this. I can let this happen. I will go though this because I want to do this for myself.

I’m nervous and excited. I’m also listening to another client here on phone. She’s beyond pissed. Who ever brought her left her here for hours and apparently she’s hangry. She’s having a fit over the phone. I guess this will entertain me until I’m next.

It all started with a phone call

On Sunday April 15th my mother and I were having breakfast at my house. She had spent the night before at my house when we got a phone call, it was my father. My aunt, my father’s sister was taken to the emergency room and they weren’t sure what was wrong with her. She had a very bad cough and had apparently lost weight the last couple of months. My mother left abruptly to meet my father at the hospital.

The next couple of days went by in a very normal way aside from a concerning doubt as to what was wrong with her. They said it could be pneumonia, they said it could be lung cancer. But how? Yes she’s older I thought, 77 to be exact. She never drank in her life, never picked up a cigarette, never had a child. This was all even more concerning since just this past November my father had lost his brother to cancer too. Tuesday I get the call, its cancer, and there’s nothing they can do.

I had to leave work early. I got the the hospital and I saw her. It was devastating seeing her that way. Seeing someone connected to a breathing machine gasping for air, struggling at every single breath. I spent the whole night with, waking every couple of hours trying to desperately remove her IV, her machine, my aunt kept saying “just let me go, I want to go now”. It was heartbreaking. After that she was on a heavy dosage of morphine. We never spoke with her again.

At around 2:30 pm the next day we took her off oxygen. It took only about 6 minutes for her heart to give up. She laid there peacefully sleepy, finally resting. Surrounded by us, rubbing her back, telling her we loved her and to rest.

I’ve never seen anyone die. But if I ever experience that again I hope they go as peaceful as my aunt.

I’m left with wonderful memories, loving memories. My aunt never had children, and we all were her children. I’ll miss you Tia Ofelia, may you rest in peace.

Tables are turned

I’ve always felt that I’ve communicated my feelings pretty clearly with my husband. Most of my feelings I put out there. The reason I do it is because I know that communication in a relationship is key. I know I have daily struggles, I know being married to someone with depression, anxiety, sensory issues and so many other struggles is a huge struggle in itself. I try to be as open as possible to keep this relationship working. I know that communication can help us bridge that gap, that separation that sometimes seems to grow and grow. But it doesn’t work both ways.

My husband has recently been struggling and I can see it. I married the most positive and outgoing person. He’s the type of person that never worries…or at least I thought. My husband teaches and he also travels for his music career. He manages his own band. Lately I can see the stress and anxiety in him. I can see it in his tired eyes. I can see the lines in his eyes which I never noticed before at only 35. I can see that smile he gives me when I get home and then I see it immediately  vanish right after. Yet he won’t share his problems, his worries with me. I don’t know how else to make him open up.

He tells me he can’t just dump all his problems on me that it wouldn’t be fair. It hurts me to think he is hurting yet he won’t open up. We recently had a medical scare and had to take him to urgent care. He was prescribed high blood pressure medication as well as anxiety meds. I told him last time he needed to communicate yet he still refuses. I don’t know what to do. He does what he loves for a living. He works with music in his day job and he also travels with his band. He not only manages the band but he’s also their drummer yet he seems tired and worried and sad. It angers me. It angers me because he gets to do what he loves and live his dream yet he doesn’t seem to enjoy it. And the worse he doesn’t share what he’s going through. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to help him. When he shuts down like this I want to pack my stuff and leave. I can’t handle it. I feel like the day-to-day interactions seem fake. Then I think, is that what it is to live with me? With all my symptoms, sensory issues, depression, anxiety and so much more. Is that what he has lived with for all of our marriage and now I get a glimpse of what is like? I don’t know. I want my old happy husband back. He seemed happier when he wasn’t pursuing his dream. I don’t get it.

The Darkness is Back

I don’t understand it. I just wish I understood this darkness that is present inside of me. Why it leaves me and I seem to be doing so well then all of a sudden it’s back, and it feels it’s back with a vengeance. This pain in my chest grows. The darkness clouds my thoughts. It pollutes them with sadness, loneliness, desperation, frustration and agony.  I can’t do this to my family. I have a husband, 3 children and family and friends.

My life consists of playing an act. By the end of the day my acting skills are exhausted to the bone. I am ready to drop my costume and acting  game and live in despair. The sink into my bed and drown myself under the covers. Maybe if I cover my head the right way it will muffle my thoughts, just maybe.

I don’t understand how I can live a lie, how I can mount a Broadway show of a life everyday when I am slowly withering away inside. People around me have no idea of the real me. My coworkers think of me of the always happy, pretty smile, full of jokes and spontaneous comments full of life.

I don’t understand this. I don’t understand myself. Is it possible to live like this? Is it really possible to be able to live this show everyday? Or do I really have control over myself? Over this darkness? Is it possible to control it always? Why is it that I can control it, hide it, in front of people? If I can do that, why I can’t do it at all times? Living a real acted out play everyday that becomes reality and making the darkness disappear. Why can’t it just go? How do you even start getting rid of this darkness?

I thought I had it under control. I learned to meditate, do yoga, I even started running when this darkness started to eat me alive, when it started slowly suffocating me a few years back. The non athlete who never ran, started running. But it never fades away, it never really leaves me. This darkness is part of me. This darkness is me and it terrifies me. I’m 33 years old, half of my life is gone and the darkness gets stronger.