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.


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.

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.

I’m a Domesticated Autistic Adult

I have a full time job. I got married, I have 3 children, participate in various social media platforms, and even participate in “normal” social gatherings to an extent. People have no idea how much I have practiced in my head how to behave in public. They have no idea how at times I just have to fake our interactions I order to avoid attracting any undesirable attention.

I write this from a mall parking lot during my regular lunch hour from my office job. I heated up my lunch, and had the usual conversation with the lady in finance who takes her lunch right on time (like me, because you know I like structure) . We exchanged weather pleasantries, I said “ok, I’ll see you later” to which she replied ok, M____ have a nice lunch.” Same conversation we have every time we see each other in the breakroom.

I wonder if she wonders where I go. I mean I pick up my lunch from the breakroom and heat it up and disappear. We can’t eat in our offices. Do they have any idea that I drive like 3 minutes to the close by mall and find a quiet parking spot to avoid human contact? Does anyone wonder? I sit here with my car windows partly open and I listen to the faint bird songs. And I listen to the sound of the passing cars and as they drive through the parking lot, crushing the tiny pieces of asphalt. It’s a crackling noise and a very annoying one in my opinion.

This is my me time. I have no children screaming or fighting. I have no noisy t.v. or nosy coworkers. My ears have a break. And I don’t speak. I enjoy my silence. I enjoy my lunch.

I finally picked up my brush

It feels as if when I need it the most is when I least want to pick up a brush. I know it will feel good. I know I will release any thoughts and feelings onto the canvas. But I am usually afraid of how it will turn out. I don’t understand me. Why am I so afraid of even the smallest things. I don’t consider myself a great artist, just an artist. I just paint when I feel like it because it makes me feel good. I hardly expose any of my art in my personal media. I don’t do art shows or try to sell my art. Yet I am afraid somethings to let out what I have inside and let it come alive on the canvas. How is it that I came about to live in fear? I wonder about that constantly. Something must have happened. Was it my childhood? Did someone say something to me and caused me to be a person who lives in fear?

My biggest fear when it comes to may art is having someone laugh at it. I know it’s nonsense because someone will. Anyone that paints or creates art will have someone that doesn’t like their art. But I’m still terrified.

Lonely Bruno goes to Church

I painted him last night. My mother in law took the kids to the movies. My husband was working on his studio. The house was quiet. I could’ve finished one of the 3 books I’m reading and can’t seem to get myself to pick them up and finish them. But something called me. And I felt the urge, the URGE I should say to pick up a brush instead.

I’ve painting this guy twice, go figure. I don’t know why, it turned out very similar to the last one. I love him. He seems sad and lonely.

I was building myself back up

Last time I wrote I was heartbroken. My husband had made a comment that hurt me so much, that broke me. I felt my whole world crushing, like this man I had been with for over a decade didn’t care about me. I did all that for thoughtless comment he made. Yes it wasn’t the best comment, but was it worth over a decade of a life together?

We spoke, he obviously felt like shit. He realized on his own how shitty his comment had been and how stupid. How he didn’t think when he said it. He apologized. We’ve had several deep talks since then. I opened up about losing my best friend recently. By that I mean our friendship. I hadn’t had the courage to tell him because I wasn’t sure if it was real. It is. She no longer wants to be part of my life.  It was very hard for me to confess to him that I felt so heart-broken for that too. It felt great to have that release and have his support.

I’ve started running again. I forgot the freedom it gave me. sometimes when I run all I hear is my heart beating, my breath, I hear my feet stomping, I feel the earth on my shoes. It feels liberating to be out there, no one holding me back or dragging me down. But it’s also scary because that is sometimes when my mind can go wild. I feel it finds me vulnerable, free of thought and it comes and attacks. Then all these thoughts come to me and try to take over. Have you heard voices before? I sometimes wonder how much is just me. The voice I hear is most of the time me. Just me telling myself things. But it has to be someone else otherwise who is it that listens but me? I don’t know if I am explaining myself. I can hear my voice talking and telling me things, but I can hear, that means it’s not me talking. I’m just listening, trying to ignore it, but sometimes validating its points. I am afraid of admitting this to anyone.

I’ve had really bad episodes in my life and I tell my husband that I feel like I’m going crazy. He loves me unconditionally and I don’t know how he would react if I ever told him that I hear this voice in my head. Would he continue to love me unconditionally? Would he now believe me that I am going crazy? I sometimes think he lives in denial. He loves me too much and cannot bear the thought that there might be something more serious with me that needs special medical treatment.

What scares me the most is that sometimes I don’t just hear myself talking. I’m not the only one in my head.

Ever had your heart crushed while waiting for pizza?

Yesterday we decided to go out as a family for early dinner and haircuts. During dinner I mentioned to my husband how I wanted to do something. He said he was very happy that I wanted to do something. What do you mean by something? He went on about how he can’t be someone who just goes to work comes back and sits on the couch. He has the drive to always have a set goal and when he’s done reaching that one he already has another one coming and that he’s working on. I asked, “Are you implying that I have no drive?”  Him, “I’m not implying that you don’t have a drive, I am saying you don’t have a drive.” I was crushed. We hadn’t even been served our dinner yet, I hadn’t finished a drink and I was crushed.

I couldn’t look at him in the eye. My face felt numb. I felt my eyes being filled with tears. I couldn’t hold back. Tears ran down my cheeks while I scrambled quickly to grab a napkin to wipe my tears before my kids noticed. Too late. My oldest saw it, and asked are if I was crying. I said no and I tried to act normal. My appetite was gone. I managed to eat a bit and got up to use the restroom and let it out. I regained posture and came back. He noticed he hurt me. He noticed I didn’t eat.

We didn’t talk to much the rest of the night. Today I woke up earlier than him. I can’t say to his face what he made me feel. I sent him a message saying that he hurt me. That I do have a drive to do things, that I want to do things. But I will never be like him. That I’m here while he pursues his dreams. That I loved him so much but that he hurt me and today I am still hurting.

He replied “forgive me, I didn’t know what I was saying.” That’s it.

I’m crushed. My heart is in tiny pieces. We have three children together. He travels, we go by his schedule. By his life, by his successes. We do things based on his availability. I’ve lived all these years seeing him accomplish his dreams and grow while I stay behind and take care of the household and children while keeping a full-time job and battling my depression and anxiety daily. My children are my drive. I wake up in the mornings and decide to fight one more day to live in this life because of them. I wonder if he’s ever had the drive to fight daily to survive one more day. I wonder.