Another 10 Point Update, Maybe Less…

  1. I am back in school! OMG yay!!! *cheers all around* I am very excited as you can see. I am working on my MA for History. After much debate and jumping through hoops, I decided on the school that gave me the biggest trouble BECAUSE they gave me trouble! The other school was mum on what was “wrong” with my application. By the way nothing was “wrong” except that I had to prove I was a USA citizen and a CA resident. No big deal right?! Well $100 later in copies of 10 years worth of taxes, voting registration tabs, jury duty pink slips, birth certificate, my passport, social security number, two expired CA driver license, a current CA driver license, car insurance proof for the past 10 years, and a day off work, I am finally a CA resident according to the school. I spoke with the Graduate adviser for both schools and my second choice was really a better fit for me. So I am pleased with my decision. You know what the best part is? I had actually taken two classes last summer in order to get letters of recommendation. So those two classes count towards my degree. I only have 10 more classes to go! 
  2. I quit my non-profit job. I wish I could say how much I grew and learned so much. Blah blah blah BUT fuck it. Want to know what I learned? Absolutely nothing! My boss had a medical issue and I was left running the joint. I made sure bills were paid, grants were submitted, reports on old grants were submitted, I was hiring people. I made sure everyone was paid. I learned that I can run someone else’s business, someone else’s vision and mission. That is it. But it has nothing to do what I wanted in life. In fact, I was more stressed out than ever before because I was working from 7AM – 6PM, for the same wage because I was salary. And what was worse, my boss called every single day and never once spoke to me. She would only speak to my co-worker and bitch about me. When she came back, I was accused of going after her job and then!! going through her office. My advise to those interested in non-profit is to run away. Far, far away from non-profit. They bleed you dry because they know you are a good person and that you want to help people. It feels good to help people. However, feeling good about how I help people doesn’t pay the bills. And in the end, I didn’t feel good. I felt stuck. I was resentful towards those I was helping because it went from please help me to I am entitled and you will help me. 
  3. I am working on being grounded. My first step is to create a “safe space.” I don’t mean one of those places or ideas were “triggers” can’t happen. Actually I have no fucking idea what that means. So this is what I mean for me. My safe space is a meditation area. sacred space. A place where I can go for 30 minutes a day and reflect on what is best for my life and commute with what I believe in. This might be breathing, yoga, or working on developing my own sacred ideals. Many of you know that my Catholic heritage only allows for two types of women: Eve and Mary. This was the main reason that I left the Catholic Church on my 15th birthday as I was being blessed by the priest. I refused communion to the horror or my family. I refused to believe that I was only allowed two types of behavior. So instead I said fuck it and didn’t look back. This seems to be a common way of dealing with my life. So here I am trying to discover about other goddesses and feminine creators and destroyers. I have a little patch of land (ahahaha) that will eventually have a “zen garden.” My parents paid a gardener to clean the area for me. Once I get a job, I will be adding rocks, a moon gate, a bench, an altar, and a few mural paintings. 
  4. I just came back from Europe where I had a lot of fun with Andrew. We began our trip in Dublin. It felt great to be back. Is it weird that it sorta felt like home? I stayed in the same hostel as before (2012) and walked down same streets. I loved it tremondously because of the familiarity. I also realized that I was looking for that familiarity. Ever since I went to the Shaman, I am constantly aware of what might have been home (you know, before this life). After Dublin, we headed to Prague. Prague was beautiful but hot. I didn’t feel at home in Prague and I don’t think I’d ever want to move there. But the architectue is amazing. We went to Munich for Oktobest. Yes… THE Oktoberfest and honestly, it wasn’t all that amazing. #sorrynotsorry What was amazing was the mustard, the cappuchino, the concentration camp, the market, and the brauhaus. I really want pretzel stud earrings. Hah! After Munich we went to Amsterdam (yes again, 2009) were I did not get high. WHAT!!? I know. I did enjoy the food and the sites. I went shopping for fabric and then the cheese. Oh man, the cheese, and the crepes, and the 5KG of Nutella jars. I want one of those jars because I’d like to make a lamp. I kind of remind myself of that time I wanted a hamburger landline phone. Anyhoo, then Disneyland Paris (2009, as well) for the half marathon. I’d like to forget about that because it was a disaster from start to finish. Poor Disneyland Paris. I don’t know what’s wrong with you but you are a sad place. You need lots of love. Then Liverpool with Ciara and Mark who I miss! I got to meet their son and he is adorable. I really like Liverpool and the working class ambiance. I definately feel at home there. Maybe it’s just because it’s near friends. And then Scotland, I spent so much money in Scotland. I fell in love with the city (despite it’s poop stories) and I want to go back and actually tour the country. I feel a little confident in driving around. I was exhausted by the end of the trip. I don’t know if I can do that again since I am getting older. Maybe one country for 3 weeks, maybe some airb&bs. Maybe a car, maybe my own pace. Maybe I should say fuck it and go to a Hawaiian resort. 
  5. I’m slowly working on getting my life back on track. And by on track I mean healthy. I am not working at the moment, focusing on school but I know that I need to do more. I started group therapy! I have decided to stop dancing folklorico. I am done. I love dancing but I am not interested in performing. I just want to learn and enjoy myself. I’m working out one hour a day and enjoying my meals without technology. I love waking up, going for a walk, breathing fresh air, coming home, making breakfast, cleaning, showering, wearing dresses (GASP), studying and quilting. Then lunch and school. I really am enjoying myself. I even have made plans (some have fizzled out) to meet with friends and explore new things or old things as an adult. Tomorrow I am apple picking and picking out a pumpkin. Thursday I have a guild meeting and on Friday I am being whisked away to San Francisco. Let’s make San Francisco memorable. 
  6. As many of you know this time of year is very hard for me because of my miscarriage/abortion. It hasn’t been as hard as other years but I also am taking care of myself. I’ve decided to power through it by celebrating Halloween. It’s been five years since I dressed up or carved a pumpkin. So the plan is to buy a pumpkin tomorrow, hand out candy on Halloween, carve my pumpkin, and then the following Saturday I have a Halloween party. I’m dressing up as a witch. =) On November 10th, the anniversary of Anya’s death, I plan on going to Cabrillo State Monument in San Diego. Nothing fancy, just to be alone with my thoughts and feelings. This is hard for those around me because they just want to see me happy. I mean don’t we all want to be happy? But negative emotions exists and not being able to attend them only makes it worse. 

“If everybody minded their own business,” the Duchess said, in a hoarse growl, “the world would go round a deal faster than it does.”

Every Sunday I look forward to my one day a week with Andrew. On this one day, we might go to Disneyland, run errands, and/or watch television programs. Lately, like the past year, I have been talking a lot about weddings and marriage because I really want to go get married. I genuinely want to start our future together, soon. Also, I’m turning 32 years old and internally I am scared shitless about becoming this crazy cat lady (but with dogs).


I’ve tried a few times to talk about “hey! what do you think about this?” but it mostly ends with a brush off and that sucks. The idea of marriage doesn’t scare me as much as the idea of being alone forever, unwanted. Hell the idea of divorce isn’t so bad either. For me, divorce is a oops I made a mistake or damn, we really, really tried to make it work and we just couldn’t. What scares me the most is the thought of being not good enough or as my grandfather would say, nadie la quiere. No one wants her. Yeah… I have really weird abandonment issues. I’m working on it.

The longer I go without even having a let’s move in together conversation, let’s get married conversation, let’s establish relationship goals conversations, the more I get insecure. And let me tell you, I’m so fucking insecure I don’t need to add more to the mix. My insecurity still steams from my relationship with Kevin and it sucks. I work on it biweekly due to my insistence on therapy. 

I do know the things that I don’t want. I don’t want to be with a partner for eight years and still not have a real conversation. I don’t want to be broken up with at year six because I am ready to move forward and my partner isn’t. I don’t want to settle for the rest of my life for one day a week. 


I never rarely pictured myself married to Kevin. It wasn’t pretty. I felt very uncertain during our relationship and most of the time, I questioned why it was still going. I’m 100% sure he was asking himself the exact same thing. I still remember our last fight, vividly, with him telling me that he didn’t want to marry me and me crying (about being pregnant) and telling him well I didn’t want to marry him either. I think back to that and get really sad not because we said that to each other but because it took us eight years to acknowledge. I wasted my 20s being miserable.

I don’t want to waste my 30s. I picture myself married to Andrew. In fact, I want to rush things. Like all the time. If I could, I would have gotten married a year ago but obviously, you know, it’s a relationship. We have to compromise. And I get it I really do. I’m more of a risk taker. I know that marriage isn’t a guarantee to happiness and I also know that a wedding isn’t your happily ever after. I know that for relationships to succeed it’s hard work, like freaking hard work. And I’m ready to work hard. I want to work hard.

Recently, Andrew did ask me about moving in together, at least I think so. It was a casual, “hey, if I bought a house, could you pay $700 of the rent?”


I can’t! I can’t afford to give him $700!? What the fuck… is wrong with me that I can’t afford $700. And I fell into a quick panic attack.  I am not a great cook (I don’t meet his expectations and I feel uncomfortable around a kitchen), I am not very clean (I don’t meet his expectations), and I can’t even pay for my own housing. I’m about to quit my job and my profession of 10 years with no back up plan. Well I’ll be in school BUT no back up work plan. 

FUCK, I have nothing of substance to offer. There would be no tangible benefit to live together because at the end of the day, how do I adult? The amount of times I run into the wall like a child learning how to walk… it’s alarming. How I am not dead yet? There isn’t much that I can contribute in terms of relationship material. I don’t want to be dependent on him. I don’t want to ask him for money. I have a small amount in my bank account to keep my bills up to date for six months but no plan afterwards.

And so I panic, quietly, or not so quietly since I am blogging about it, while I plan my imaginary wedding.


10 Point Update

So many things have happened that I haven’t had a chance to really sit down and process all that is going on. I’ll just make bullet points and hope I don’t forget anything. Sorry for the typos. I’m just trying to get everything down.

  • I have a new job. That’s right. I left my crappy job back in August 2015. I’ve been at this new crappy job for 8 months now. Yay…? *tear* Here is the thing, I left an unstable job but at least I had the confidence to know that I really was doing something amazing. I believed in myself. I was confident in my decision-making skills. I used to write grants, teach, and work with amazing people. At this new job. I don’t do anything without approval. I was alone for the first 4 months. I was attacked on my first day and the cops never came. That’s right, they never came. I still think about this when I hear the police sirens. And the stress levels here are ungodly. I’ve become a paper pusher where if I don’t answer an e-mail within 5 minutes the world will collapse. I’m constantly stressed out and fearing for my life. I’ve become one giant ball of nerves. I am not allowed to make decisions not even when trying to purchase toner for the printer. I have to plead my case for new toner and then have my new male coworker go check on the printer and then have him say “YES Angie is right. The printer does in fact need toner.” I fucking gave up and the office hasn’t been able to print in over two weeks. The good news is that I have 4 months left before I leave this place and 3 months until I give my notice.
  • I applied to grad school again. It’s been hell on earth. The schools lost my transcripts. I had to reorder them and that was a nightmare. Well first, the first time I ordered transcripts from one school, their system went down while I was paying for the transcripts because everything is via the Internet. So I ordered them, the money was taken from me and I had an order confirmation BUT the school didn’t get the memo. So I had to harass them for my “free” transcripts. Then, I didn’t hear back from those who were writing my letters of recommendation. One of my letters was not on letterhead so it was not a valid recommendation. Then, crazy enough… somehow my residency was being questioned by both schools. I had to submit so much paper work to prove that I am a state resident. Here is the list of everything I submitted (copies, of course): my birth certificate, my passport, my taxes for the past 10 years, my car insurance, my car registration, my state driver’s license (all three of them, two expired), and a letter from the county’s voting registration office. One school hasn’t received my final transcript and that’s the school that I really want to go to. I spoke with the History Department Head and he said YES YOU LOOK GREAT JUST SUBMIT THAT LAST TRANSCRIPT AND YOU ARE IN!!!! But where the fuck is that last transcript? I’m waiting.
  • I quit dancing and running. I couldn’t handle the stress from my job, the commute, and then go try and learn something new. I would often feel sick, sleepy, and just stupid that I couldn’t get the dance steps or choreography. My brain just feels like it’s running at max capacity all the time. I had to give up dance despite the fact that I enjoyed dancing. It took me like 3 or 4 years to feel a part of the group and then I left. It has been really sad for me. Then running. I haven’t run in so many months. I get really sad when I try and run. I just get really sad. Sad enough that I don’t want to get out of bed. For example, this morning I set up my alarm for 7AM I don’t actually need to get up for work until 8:30AM. Well anyway, I set up my alarm every day for 7AM so I have at least 1 hour to work. Today I just laid in bed awake thinking about having to go to work. BUT on a positive note, I walked 4 times this week. I finally got on the treadmill after 16 months. Last time I went on the damn thing, I fell off. Well anyway, I’ve slowly been walking and running on it. Regaining my strength because I have two half marathons coming up in September. I hate the idea of not running because I enjoy it. I am alone sometimes more than an hour and I can cry and let out whatever I feel.
  • I started working on my prep classes for the teaching credential. I took one class this semester. I will be taking summer off to focus on my CSET (three exams) and Constitution exam and then hopefully going back to the classes (only 13 more to go!). I have five years to complete the program so we shall see where I am in five years. For the 8 weeks of my class, it was the first time I actually enjoyed going into work because I would wake up super early (5AM) in order to get ready to go to the high school or middle school, I’d do my teaching thing and then go to work. I was definitely having a moment, oh I’m doing what I actually like doing because I go to work with kids and history. Hurrah! I even made 7-dozen cookies for my classes! But now it’s over. Hopefully in autumn, I will know what the hell is happening in my life.
  • I’m going to Europe in September. I should know whether or not I would be attending school in the fall. If it happens, great; if not, well I’ll just go to Europe and call it a year. Fuck it. But back to Europe, I am excited to report that Andrew and I will be flying into Dublin and then flying to Prague and then taking the train to Munich (YES, during Oktoberfest!! And YES I already have our hotel room) then to Amsterdam, and then Paris, where I will be running the inaugural half marathon at Disneyland Paris, and then to Liverpool to see the ever wonderful  Ciara and Mark and then to Edinburgh. There is so much to see and do and money to spend and I don’t care! When I come back I won’t have a job. YAY!!!
  • I had a small/major emotional breakdown a few weeks ago. It was the first time in a long time that I admitted to myself that I was having suicidal thoughts. I should also say that I DON’T ever plan or believe that I could act on those thoughts. This is just me admitting that all the stress, anxiety, identity loss and the feeling of being overwhelmed finally got to me and that one of the many solutions I was thinking about included death. For me that wasn’t the worst part. The worst part was watching my parents see me as this vulnerable person because my family sees vulnerability as a weakness. So you can imagine the support I received in this moment of “weakness.” Ultimately, my parents think I am going to end up in a mental institution because I can’t handle my shit. But the truth is I have so much unnecessary shit to handle that I can’t tell what’s really important. By the way, my parents keep saying that I have to get better soon because what is going to happen when I have kids (I’m infertile by the way but they don’t seem to want to believe that) and have to deal with real world problems.
  • I’m developing dermatillomania. I have been picking at my face, legs, shoulders, and inner thighs. Sometimes I don’t even know that I am doing it. I mostly do it when I am driving to and from work. Sometimes in the shower and sometimes when I am sleeping. Yeah, you read that right. I pick at my scabs when I am sleeping. So I am working on writing or coloring in my stress books to see if I can stop or lessen the problem. Basically I am a mess and need help.
  • I miss Kevin. What?! I know, I know. Now I have to say that it has nothing to do with Andrew because I am quite happy in the boyfriend department. I miss my friendship with Kevin. I miss the geeky part of myself that Kevin understood. I miss playing World of Warcraft. I miss reading Warcraft lore and then texting super fast like OMG did you know that … *insert WoW trivia here* There is a movie coming out and I’m not excited about it as there is no reason to be excited about it. Who would I be excited with? Most likely I won’t be watching it in theaters, as I don’t like going to the movies. I miss talking about the Lord of the Rings mythology with someone who understood my inner geek. He understood my need to watch a LOTRs marathon. It’s odd, I get it but before Kevin I was a closeted geek. While we were together, it was the first time I had the opportunity to embrace my geekiness and it was a major part of my life for 8 years and now 5 years later, I miss it. And ultimately, I miss interacting with friends on a daily basis. I spend roughly 6/7 days alone and feel that loneliness. It’s so hard to see friends as many of them are in school, pregnant, or in adult relationships now.
  • If you haven’t heard, I love quilting! Yes, the idea of making hand-made blankets for people is great. I get a rush from picking out fabric, designing quilts (like have you seen my Quilter’s Planner?!), cutting and sewing fabric but I don’t have time/endless financial source to make more than 1 quilt a month. I’ve mostly been making baby quilts. A few of my friends are having babies and I’ve been working on getting over my infertility issue by creating quilts. I cry sometimes and have my own baby quilts waiting to be made knowing that they most likely will never be made. But I work through it.
  • I have a dilemma with my family. My oldest niece  is thinking about college. She will be a junior in high school in August. This summer she was admitted to the Frontier Program at Worcester Polytechnic Institute in Massachusetts. I am excited for her. But I am also annoyed that I got a text message asking for financial help. No phone call, no update as to how she is doing. Just a text asking for money. In fact I haven’t seen her since Memorial Day of last year. She needs $6,000 for the two-week program (the program says less than $3,000 but she is flying in from Arizona, and needs someone to take her). I am torn with giving her money now and then not having money for when she does go off to college. I made her the promise of a post-high school trip and paying for her books while in college. I keep thinking, is two weeks really worth $6,000? I am really torn because I am not her parent and I am not obligated to give her any money. A part of me wants to give her the money. I have $6,000 in my saving. I could give her the money but this is my rainy day fund and she is not my child/godchild. This morning I began to process what my issue really was. I think back to my childhood and my issue with my aunts and uncles. They didn’t really care about me. They still don’t. Why do I care so much about my niece and nephew? I compare what I am willing to spend and what was spent on me. I keep thinking back to when I was 8-ish and being sent to Mexico. I think about how no one said no, don’t disrupt the family. We will care for them in this country. Instead of being 1000+ miles away, you will only be 60 miles away. We will open our doors to you. I think back at how aunts and uncles on welfare would go to Cancun, Magic Mountain, etc while my immediate family didn’t have food. I think back at that time that one of my uncles asked my dad for $1,000 in order to buy his daughter a car and I was car-less or that time another uncle asked my dad to co-sign for his son’s college ($40,000 per year) and I was stuck with my own personal loans for college. BTW, my cousin dropped out within the first 6 month.Oh, what about that time another uncle asked my dad for $500 to take his family on a vacation but I was wearing hand me down clothes from my sister who is 8.5 years older than me. I think back at this and I get really pissed off. There isn’t anything I can do about it but it’s obvious that I am still pissed off about it. I think about what would happen to my nieces and nephew if their parents weren’t here. I know that I would step in and find a way to care for them. But now that I am faced with a financial request and I keep thinking how much can I give now and not feel bad about giving to little?


EDIT: I just got an e-mail notifying me that I got accepted into one of my schools. Being alone makes it very anti-climactic.

It’s really dreadful,” she muttered to herself, “the way all the creatures argue. It’s enough to drive one crazy!”

For New Year’s I graciously accepted an invitation to go camping. I was super excited to go as I love camping and frankly, the last time I went was in 2013. I enjoyed the tranquility and hoped that my life was moving in the right direction. I was taking the time to enjoy myself. I had gotten away from the city, the traffic, the anxiety, the constant need to text or check Facebook. For 36 hours, I enjoyed my life. I kept thinking that 2016 was going to be the best year I’ve ever had.

In that short period of relaxation. I had found the courage to go on a short “hike” all on my own. It didn’t last more than 15 minutes but for me it was worth it. You see, I want to hike the Pacific Crest Trail, the Appalachian Trial, the Continental Divide Trail (Thank you Susan for mentioning this one. I looked it up and it sounds amazing, Did you happen to check out the Ice Age trail?) before I die. But solitude scares me. I’m afraid of being alone for long periods of times with my own thoughts. This is something that I will have to learn to overcome if I actually want to become a hiker. But anyways back to my little 15 min hike. I had a reoccurring cold so I had trouble breathing even when I was sitting down. While I walked around, I listened to my breathing. It was hard, wheezy, and that of a 89 year old chain-smoking woman. But I got to hear birds, the wind, and the laughter of a few campers down below. As I continued walking, and with the sun setting, I felt something different. A presence. I knew I wasn’t alone. At first I was scared and started to breath heavier, shorter, almost like I was gasping for air. Then, all of a sudden, I relaxed and I started talking. I don’t know what I said or who I said it to but I know I was speaking (maybe I was thinking; it has been over a month since it happened). I made peace with the presence with promises of returning and headed back into camp.

Camping resumed but no major event happened afterwards until I got home. At home, my life has felt like it’s been turned upside down. I came home to an angry mother. Nothing new right? What started as a recommendation for a new business computer became an attack on me as a person: my physical being, my sexuality, my finances, my status as a 31 year old, my emotional and mental well-being. That is what my mother does, time and time again. She knows your insecurities and reminds you just how much of a worthless human being you are. And it kind of clicked for me. I don’t really hear my voice knocking me down. I hear hers. I hear her disappointment and her rage. She doesn’t want me to get better mentally because that would mean that she was a terrible mother who refused to acknowledge my depression. I don’t believe that she is a terrible mother but she would believe it. For her, the easiest way to avoid my depression is to believe that I simply don’t have it; despite being told my doctor’s for the past 20 years that I have depression. My success is her success, my happiness is hers, and my thoughts are in a sense her thoughts. We are somehow connected but I’ve stepped out of line. Every few months, I step out of line and I have to be reminded of what it means to be in check.

**The next part is what happened on January 4**

It always starts out with me being a whore. I’m a whore because I almost had a child out of wedlock. I’m a whore because I’ve had multiple boyfriends or dates. She generally assumes that I have slept with every male that I have ever spoken to since I turned 18. I’m a whore because:

  • on Mondays I come home from work at 8PM
  • Tuesdays and Wednesdays I’m a whore because I come home at 10PM due to dance
  • on Thursdays I was a whore because I was taking Russian language classes and having dinner with my boyfriend; now I’m a whore because I’m coming home from work at 8PM
  • on Fridays I’m a whore because it’s date night and I come home at midnight
  • on Saturdays I am not a whore because I help her clean the house, have lunch with her, and spend a few hours with her at Joann’s unless I decide to spend the night with my boyfriend
  • on Sundays… another whorish day as I come home at midnight after spending a day with my boyfriend at the bookstore, at Joann’s, at Disneyland, Souplantation despite spending Sunday mornings with my parents

Basically I’m a whore if I am out of the house after sunset.

By this time, I am already crying. I don’t speak up for myself. I don’t see the point. It’s morning and I am having to get ready for work. Yes you read that right. All this happens before work. Every time.

She moves on to my looks. I’m ugly. Too fat. Too short. Too many glasses. My head is too small. My nose is too wide. When did I last brush my hair? Why do I dress the way that I do? Too many jeans and t-shirts. Too many black underwears and bras. Too many everything. I look too much like a lesbian. Don’t I want people to know that I am not gay?!? She didn’t give birth to a lesbian. Stop picking at my scabs, stop pulling out my hair, stop vomiting. Stop being so weak. Don’t I know how to fight back?

Honestly, no, I don’t know how to fight back. I’ve learned to just be quiet. Try not to make a sound. Don’t argue back. Just eat my breakfast, pack my lunch and go. Become invisible. Learn to be invisible.

Once my looks and sexuality have been degraded the inevitable question comes up. I’ve been asked, my entire life, why can’t I just be happy? Why not stop being sad for one minute and just be happy? She needs me to be happy because it will validate her parenting techniques. She did a good job in raising me and she’ll be damned if I say any different. By being depressed, I am being selfish. And being selfish is the worst possible thing I can be, right?

I cry a lot. Despite repeated attempts to say that I don’t have an on or off switch. I try and explain depression and I try to explain that she is not the keeper of my happiness. Only I am responsible for my happiness.  I’m gasping for air and trying to eat my breakfast. I need to hurry up. I’m afraid of moving and yet I’m trying to shove food down my face faster and faster so I can just go. I’m afraid of walking away from her screaming at me. It doesn’t make sense but it’s what I do.

More questions. What’s wrong with me? I don’t fucking need a therapist. No one in our family needs a therapist! Do I think my siblings need therapy? YES. THEY FUCKING DO. I scream. I’m scared. That’s me screaming. That’s me, defending myself, defending them. Holy shit. I can’t go back now. Fuck. fuck. fuck. YES THEY FUCKING DO!!! We all do. Even her. Especially her. I vomit. So much for eating breakfast.

Dad walks in. He knows something is wrong but he simply states, “I don’t have time for this. I’m going to be outside, working.” Mom threatens me by kicking me out of her house. I’m no longer crying. I’m angry. Her house?! Her house?! I ask quietly for her to clarify what she means by her house. But she didn’t fucking stutter. It is her house. It’s always going to be her house. It’s not my home. I need to move out and soon. I should be embarrassed leaving at home at my age.

But I am not embarrassed. I am, however, angry. I’m spewing fucking nonsense. Nonsense that I happily suppressed for years. Want to see me fight?

YES IT IS HER HOUSE. ALWAYS HER FUCKING HOUSE. IT’S NEVER BEEN HOME FOR ME. Remember? She shipped me off. I was 8. I didn’t know any better. I went to live in a foreign fucking country not speaking the language. Then I’m left there with my grandparents who force me to go to church, learn catechism, learn about God, cut my hair and watch as my toys are given away to the less fortunate. Be a good fucking child. AND FOR WHAT!? WAS I A HORRIBLE CHILD BEFORE???? DID I DESERVE BEING SENT TO MEXICO?? Then out of the blue I’m back in the States. LET’S JUST PRETEND THAT NOTHING FUCKING HAPPENED. But everything changed. I am no longer daddy’s little girl. I have a little sister. She is sick. So everything is changed. Learn to walk on eggshells. Learn to be invisible because your little sister is sick and needs to be kept calm. I tried to exert some sort of independence. DON’T DARE STEP OUT OF LINE BECAUSE I’LL BE SENT BACK. RIGHT BACK. An empty threat for the next 8 years.

You know who else knows its HER house? Her other two kids. One would rather live far away and never visit. The other prefers her abusive, alcoholic husband then trying to come home and escape it all. You know who else knows its HER house? Dad. Dad who stays for 48 hours before he leaves again. A stranger in his own home.

And with that being said, I get in the car, crying, and go to work. My abandonment issue has surfaced. Time to learn how to deal with it.



2015 Resolution Recap

I can’t believe it has been over 6 months that I have posted something. Apologies only to myself as I have felt my life change dramatically and it’s been overwhelming and I’ve lost track of basically everything. I lost sight of what I wanted and gah! So much to say but later.

At the beginning of the year, I wrote the following resolutions for myself:

  1. Finish a half-marathon. I will be using this guide. I am exciting! I want to compete in the Coast to Coast.
  2. Pass the FSOE. I will be using this guide.
  3. Get a new job.
  4. Tackle the credit card bill.
  5. Sign up for a gym membership and attend the gym. There is a Fitness 19 near my house and grocery store. I pass it every time I go to Starbucks. So instead of going to the Starbucks, I would like to go to the gym and then go get my groceries.
  6. Finish quilts.

How did I do?

Let’s see…

#1) I completed the Coast to Coast! So I did two half-marathons and managed to sign up for the RunDisney in Paris at the end of September and RunDisney in Anaheim at the beginning of September! (This time I swear I will train…) – SUCCESS

#2) I discovered something about myself that does not require me to become a Foreign Service Officer or an FBI agent. Sorry America BUT I am not patriotic and have no desire to die for my country or countrymen. I don’t share the same beliefs as the government and I doubt I could blindly follow what I am being told. That and the whole, I can’t keep a secret to save my life.

I love traveling but I also love teaching. For so long, I denied the fact that I wanted to become a teacher because my mom doesn’t think teaching is a good enough profession. Honestly, I was on that track back when I was 21. I could have been done by now. No seriously. I took all the teaching credential classes back when I was in college. I just needed the student teaching part. I gave it up to make my mom happy and now look at me. I’m lost doing shit, I have no desire to do.  #sorrynotsorry

#3) I have a new job. Yay!! I make $50k a year and have health benefits. YAY!! Finally after nine years in non-profits I can say. FUCK non-profits. I learned this about myself. For five semi-miserable years, I hated my job and the non-profit I was working in. I thought that maybe, MAYBE, it was just a shitty non-profit. But nope, non-profits and the arts are such unstable fields and I’m not a youngin’ anymore. I’m 31 years old, living with my parents, and sleeping on a twin size bed. I need adult things such as a retirement plan, financial stability, a home, maybe a full size bed. (What would I do with all that space?!)

I finally have health benefits. I can see a doctor and a dentist. I have no idea how to make an appointment but that’s besides the point. Baby steps. Baby steps.

#4) The credit card bill… is a weird semi success story. I was at $14,000 in debt. I managed to put down the card to $7,000 but now it’s back up to $10,000. I say that’s okay. Overall it’s down but this year I had a lot of issues and successes. For one, I had to get new tires ($400) and then a colonoscopy ($600, oh yeah, I haven’t talked about my butt problems yet, the joys of that region) BUT then!!! I decided to get my Masters in History and my two history classes were $2,100) and my teaching credential (my first class was $960).

So my debt is no longer trivial stuff. But it’s still debt and I am trying really hard to lower it. On the plus I have $3,100 in saving. So HA!

#5) I signed up for a gym. Score. And I did have a gym partner, the lovely Ms. Robyn, and we were in the grove of things. Double score. BUT then life kind of fucked both of us over. We got sad and then depressed which meant we stopped doing everything. I learned that having a friend who wants to work out with you, talk with you and laugh with you is important in the weight loss journey. I also know that we will be getting our shit together really soon. So stay tune.

#6) I finished two quilts. One for me (of course) and one adorable owl quilt for a cute little girl named Jasmine (by little I mean younger, she is definitely taller than me). Then I started making new quilts, one for Andrew (almost done, I swear), one for my godmother (a super awesome Carpenter’s Star (FYI I love this design)), one for my former intern, Alexis  (who is about to have a baby), and another one that was meant for me but now I plan to give away.


I’ve something important to say!

I am half way done with my class. I am taking Women’s History in the US at Cal Poly, Pomona. It has been an exciting experience despite the stress of having to work full-time, continuing with my dance practice, working out, and maintaining a relationship with Andrew. I am so happy that I am taking this class. First of all, I have an A in the class. This makes me really happy. I know that I work hard and I need that affirmation. I need to know that I am on the right track. History is my calling and I am embracing it.

You see, the past two Autumns, I had worked hard on my PhD applications. And for two years in a row, I didn’t get into any program. It was heart-breaking. I cried at every single rejection letter. I felt worthless. Then I got mad. I called one of the schools to tell them to go fuck themselves but then I learned the ugly truth about schools. They don’t give a shit about me or you at a PhD level. At that level you are an expense. I always thought my degree in Museum Studies would set me a part. I figured someone would read my personal statement and would realize how my degree and career had prepared me for a PhD. I was different then those with a history degree. I was wrong. American education doesn’t want you to be different. You have to be the same: same GRE scores, same letters of rec, and same degree. It was sad to hear. The history departments weren’t sure that I would cut it. To them my program was kind of easy. What sucked was the fact that I had heard that exact same thing about history… remember Kevin? He said the same thing about my program. History is easy, all you do is read books, discuss, and write papers. Anyone can do that.

Andrew has said the same thing and often compared me to him. I hope he doesn’t do it on purpose. But I have quickly learned that to make himself bigger and better, he kind of belittles me. Again, I doubt it’s intentional. Schooling was easy for him. He didn’t have to work hard. He didn’t even have to read a book. All he has has to do is sweet talk himself through life. Here I am stressing out, working hard, trying to better myself. And as he was proclaiming just how amazing he was, I was doubting myself and hoped I would disappear. Maybe I wasn’t good enough for a PhD. Maybe I suck at History. Maybe I’m just dumb.  Maybe I’m stuck at my job because I keep trying to reach beyond what I can actually do.

But then I started this class and I felt good again. I hadn’t taken a history class in almost 10 years. I doubted whether or not I could cut it. It’s that what the one history department said, they doubted me. But I can!! I totally can. It’s very important for me that I am the best that I can possibly be. I don’t need to be better than anyone else just know that I am working my hardest. I haven’t felt that drive in a long time. It’s helped me figure out how I plan to tackle a MA in History. That’s right. I am refusing to give up. If reaching for a PhD in History was too high, then I will try one step below it. Once I get the MA in History I will try again. This class has helped me prioritize my life. My relationship with Andrew is okay… mostly me feeling guilty every time I say I can’t because I have to study. He tells me not to worry but I do. I worry all the time. But I am glad it’s happening right now when we aren’t living together, in another state. It’s a challenge but in California we have time to be a part. He has his life and I have mine. Right now he has his support system and I have my class.

Conversations with Jaguar, Crow, and Hummingbird

Last year around this time I wrote a blog post based on the 100 day challenge. I knew that I had to change something about myself because I was tired of being being depressed. I was tired of being around myself. I didn’t want to lose the war despite the fact that I was lost in my own head. So, I went to a journey to discover what made me happy. For 100 days I documented, through instagram, the things that made me happy. It was a rather successful challenge as I had proof that I was happy and that I could be happy. I now look at my photos and reminisce about the fun stuff that happened last year.

Because of the success, I decided to make my 100 day challenge a tradition: starting on May 28 of each year and ending on my birthday as a symbol of rebirth. With the help of my friend, Karen, and Jon, the Shaman, I have discovered that piece of myself that was always missing because I was choosing to deny my spirituality. In order for me to grow and fully heal I have to embrace my shamanism. This will be my journey.

I have a small community of friends who are helping me in the process. They have willingly accepted to be part of my tribe and because of that I honor them and cherish them in prayer and conversation. First and foremost, I have Andrew who travels with me, listens to me, and doesn’t judge me as I walk down this path. Instead he buys me books knowing that it will only lead to more conversations. Next are those who are on their own spiritual path such as Karen and Christopher. Without them I would be lost and they willing answer the many questions that I have. And finally I have Robyn, who walks, literally walks, by my side as I heal and strengthen my physical body.

I found the encouragement to begin the journey after I finished reading one of the many books that Andrew bought me. I really enjoyed reading The Shaman’s Spirit because for the first time I knew what I needed to do. It was everything that I knew I wanted to do but didn’t think I could or that I should. In a very condensed summary of the book, I expect to accomplish the following:

  • Create an incense holder
  • Make a shaman blanket
  • Create power animal fetishes for Jaguar, Crow, and Hummingbird
  • Make my ritual dressings
  • Find my sacred place: It is not the Grand Canyon
  • Go on a vision quest
  • Journey to the other-world
  • Create a sacred place for my altar
  • Rebuild my altar
  • Connect with Jaguar on a consistent basis with the hope that he will grant me the opportunity to shape-shift into a jaguar
  • Understand the medicine wheel
  • Create a tree of life
  • Create pots or decorate pots for my plants
  • Mark my body
  • Begin gardening
  • Explore incense and find what I need in my life: Sandalwood, lavender, and jasmine take me to a place that I remember but have never been to. 
  • Find my music
  • Create my destiny altar

When I decided to go on this adventure I knew that I had more than one animal protecting/guiding me. Jaguar has always been there for me despite the fact that I never recognized him. Again my choice, not his. But since my cleansing, I acknowledge him respectfully and welcome him where ever I am at. Sometimes, he does scare me like the time I woke up in the middle of the night because I heard my name, followed by eerie silence and finally pacing. I was scared at first but I quickly fell asleep. Jaguar moved without fear in the darkness and I am grateful that he was and is protecting me and empowering me. He pushes me through the chaos that I am experiencing but I also have Crow with me.

I still don’t know why but I see Crow all the time. I acknowledge him but am rather reserved with him. I know that we shall speak about the changes that are taking place and about my ancestors. In time I hope to be part of a past life retrieval so I can better understand my journey. Crow who does not adhere to time and space will be my guide.

And finally, Hummingbird. There have been instances of when I’m dancing or when I am really excited/happy that Hummingbird begins to dance with me. It’s been a very eye opening experience. I didn’t even realize that I gravitate towards him until you see me smile. I always find him flying about even though he has traveled far. He is relentless in his journey and knows only love.

I can’t wait to share with all you what this journey may bring.

How surprised he’ll be when he finds out who I am!

…at times I almost dream
I, too, have spent a life the sages’ way,
And tread once more familiar paths. Perchance
I perished in an arrogant self-reliance
Ages ago; and in that act, a prayer
For one more chance went up so earnest, so
Instinct with better light let in by death,
That life was blotted out-not so completely
But scattered wrecks enough of it remain,
Dim memories, as now, when once more seems
The goal in sight again…
– Parcelsus, Robert Browning

A few weeks I posted about my shaman experience. This time I want to post about how it has changed me in a matter of a week. After the session with Jon, Karen walked me to the car. As I left the hotel, the world seemed brighter and noisier but not because of people. Instead I could hear and feel nature. I felt warmed by the sun and cooled by the wind. And I wanted to go out and run and do lots of stuff. It was very overwhelming and stimulating. Right there and then I was ready to go buy items so I can start dyeing with natural dyes. Karen told me to go get a item that I could keep with me that would symbolize my jaguar. Not because he isn’t with me but because I needed a reminder once in a while. I found a store to buy my Jaguar token. A nice pendant with a small turquoise on it. I didn’t know what kind of rock/crystal/gem/mineral it was but I gravitated to it. Turns out it was an amber and it is meant to bring a care free, sunny disposition; promotes good luck and success; dissolve oppositions; and, turns out that in ancient times, amber was carried by travelers for protection. Karen also warned me of the monkey of self-doubt. He is the self critic who reminds us of all the reasons why not, all the things that could go wrong. He is at his most malicious when we don’t know what to do next.

After leaving Karen, I went to Andrew’s house. I’m not going to lie. I felt high on my way to Anaheim but I didn’t do any drugs. I was on cloud 9. I was calm, happy, and tired. I hadn’t realized that I was hungry. We went to Chili’s and I wanted a margarita. I didn’t end up having one because I already felt loopy from the shaman experience. But I did eat a rib eye steak and I ravaged it as a hungry lion would it’s prey. Afterwards, I went to sleep. It felt like I slept forever but it was only for about it hour. Andrew has been very supported through the process. I remember going to Barnes and Noble as I was looking for a book, Shaman’s Spirit by Mike Williams, which Andrew found for cheaper. I don’t know what else happened that day… I think on my last post I mentioned feeling the Jaguar lay on my bed with me as I slept.

The next morning I woke up energized. I went outside and felt the warmth of the sun. I stretched and stretched until I was ready to run. And it felt good. By mile three I was tired and ready to stop but then I felt something push me, I could only assume that it was the Jaguar pushing me. I could hear the crows even though I had headphones on. I could only smile at my new sense of hearing and touch. As I was finishing my run, I could no longer feel the Jaguar but I knew he was still with me as I approached my car. Right where I had parked my car, there were tiny cat paw prints. When I got home, Karen had texted me saying that it was time for me to create my mythical toilet.  So that afternoon while walking with Robyn I picked up pine cones, berries, rocks, anything that I felt a connection with. I came home and asked my parents if they would be planting this year but due to the California drought they would not. So I went searching for a place and lo and behold!! Another cat walked by me, this time circling and then jumping and stopping at this one small place. I created my mythical toilet there.

Once I was finished with my mythical toilet, I was ready to move on to my ancestor altar. I bought lots of healing stones to represent the many influences in my life such as the woman in my past life who was poisoned, my grandparents, my parents, my siblings, babies, etc. It took me an entire hour to select the stones and then a week to decide where my altar would be placed, finally I just set it on a table. (I don’t light it often maybe once a week when I think it is appropriate. I open my windows and let the light and air in. It feels good.) Many of my stones are for the challenges my family faces, in theory, if I could give something to my family it would be these specific stones. I identified key issues that we have. For example, I bought five unakite jaspers because both sets of grandparents and my great-grandmother need(ed) help healing deep-seated feelings that have been repressed, such as anger and resentment. This pain has been passed out to an additional four generations and I hope that at least for me I can put an end to it.


My first real challenge was going back to work. I thought I would struggle but I didn’t. I stepped out of my car and stretched again. All of a sudden I felt a need to stretch all the time. Nothing happened at work. I wasn’t afraid, I didn’t feel anger or anxiety. I felt at peace, a sort of acceptance of where I am. Not that this is where I am ending up. I no longer felt confined to my workplace. I didn’t feel trapped anymore. I am simply laying in wait. Patiently.

Things that are changing:

  1. All of a sudden I had the urge to buy tea and drink it. I stopped drinking coffee. Cold turkey. I stopped drinking coke. My body no longer desired it. Just like that. I felt renewed.
  2. I wake up in the middle of the night with ideas to create art.
  3. I want to go outside and pick up seeds even though I may be in pjs. I pick up seeds at work. I know I will use them soon but no idea in what.
  4. I want to go running and not stop.
  5. I need to go to Mexico. I don’t know why yet. But I need to.

The Caterpillar

On Sunday I woke up super early and decided to go for a run. It was my sister’s birthday and she would have been 23 years old. After running I headed to Vons were I purchased flowers for her then headed off to McDonalds. Yes I know, I know. McDonald’s after running what was I thinking?! But in fact I was thinking. I was thinking of how difficult this day was for my mom so I assumed some flowers and breakfast would have helped her. I came home to my mom and dad working outside getting ready for their party. That’s right they were throwing a party. Not for my sister or her memory but because my grandmother, my dad’s mother, had turned 83 years old. I need to note that I wasn’t told about the party until a week before it was happening and I was told because my mom was insistent that I not be there. That’s right folks. I wasn’t invited to a party that was being hosted in my house. But I didn’t mind. I was going to see the shaman so who cared if I missed a silly party with people I didn’t even like and who had rejected me all my life.

So I drove to Rosemead. My friend, who had come down from Monterey to be a part of this event, would be meeting me at the location. I met Jon, the shaman, in his hotel room. He talked to me about a variety of things such as the history of his training, the way the body and spirit works, chakras, entity extraction, soul retrievals, destiny retrievals, etc. These would be important for what I  was about to go through. We spoke for about an hour and I felt that I barely touched the surface with my problems. I’m very thankful to Karen who was with me because I felt that if I couldn’t answer a question she would prod me. But it was a good start.

Before I got started, Jon created a circle of rocks and asked me to pick as many as I wanted. I picked five. I didn’t think there was a real systematic way of picking. I don’t even remember what they looked like. One of the stones I blew into my negative thoughts or doubt that it would work. Jon then asked me to lay down on the bed with my legs propped up on a pillow. He began the ceremony by asking (or maybe just praising) for help from the four directions (or winds). Karen was a big part of that. I don’t remember honestly what was said. Afterwards, he placed the remaining four stones around my body I can remember two or three for sure, which now that I have begun to do the research are the following chakras: #7 (at the very top of my head), #5 (at my throat), #3 (my stomach area), I can’t remember the last one!

So he started drumming and rattling and you know “all that stuff” but he did asked me to just tell him that I was thinking or feeling or what I was seeing. He began with the top of my head, turns out he was clearing my seventh chakra (I’m still very new to the terminology so excuse me if I am wrong). As I laid there I said one line, “Меня зовут Екатерина. Mоя фамилия…” and then it was gone. I choked a bit and then felt a release of warm liquid running out of my ear. Turns out there was never any liquid there. It was just in my head. Jon told me that this was part of my past life and I believe it. I believe that my soul might have died multiple times around the age of 30 which is why I have been having such a hard time. I also think this explains why for many years I always thought I would die before the age of 30. I was always looking for ways to end my life before even beginning. Anyways, Jon let me know that I might have been part of a nobility who was poisoned by someone I loved dearly. This might explain why I am so drawn to Europe, why I dream of walking barefoot across the cobblestone and why I can remember the touch or stones without having to touch them. This noblewoman who was wronged in a past life continued in her anger until Sunday. I’m no longer afraid of drinking. I’m not really afraid of my friends which feels great. I mean when it was over, I wanted to share with Crystal, Darlene, and Andrew. I honestly wanted a margarita. I also think that the noblewoman died in Paris but wasn’t from Paris. I believe this because on Monday, I was reminiscing for the first time of Paris. I walked around a store with a smile on my face thinking of the bitter cold but still being content with Andrew. I thought of Andrew and the time we were in Paris. And it made me happy.

After that cleansing, Jon moved onto my throat, the fifth chakra. On this “vision” I started to shake my knees, I was cold. My feet were really cold and achy. I couldn’t move my arms or my legs. I felt crucified but I didn’t see a Christian crucifixion but I didn’t have any other way to describe it. It was an inverted Y not a regular t. I was a man this time and I wasn’t naked like the crucifixion scene. I couldn’t speak other than I was really cold. I don’t know what it was about. We didn’t touch much on this vision.

The last vision took place when Jon was clearing my stomach area, the third chakra. I’m not sure. I was still staring at the ceiling. Did I mention that? I was staring at the ceiling most of the ritual. I stared intently at this weird bubble thing on the ceiling. Anyways, I felt like I was dying but not upset or scared about it. I accepted that I was going to die. I was a boy, maybe 10 or 11 but I was emaciated and I was “crippled.” I couldn’t lift my legs anymore and I was being cradled. There was a woman there but it wasn’t “my mother,” the boy’s mother. But it was a woman. She was sad. I could feel her sadness. I continued to look up and I saw two suns in a red-ish sky. It was sunset but there were two suns!!! I decided to turn my head to the right. And there was Jon cradling me. When did he put his arms under me? I have no recollection of that. I thought it was still working on my stomach area.

I don’t remember what happened to the last chakra. I have no recollection of it. I kept thinking about the other three things that I might have missed the last one or I wasn’t meant to see it. It was strange but it was wonderful. The destiny retrieval was simple, I stared into Jon and I let him know what I saw: three different faces, one looking at me, one looking to the left and one smiling at me. I saw a glow past him but couldn’t see anything else.  Unfortunately I can’t remember anything else.

I do know that a jaguar follows me around, protecting me. He keeps me warm. After the session, I feel that warmth that I never felt before. Remember I always felt empty and cold but after Sunday it started to change. Every morning since, I wake up at 5:30 and just run while watching the sunrise. When I run and I am tired, I feel I am being pushed to keep going. The jaguar is my nagual. I feel him when I am falling asleep. The first night, as I was falling asleep I felt the pressure of something on me but I wasn’t scared. I just felt warm, protected, and I smiled. I was able to sleep like never before.  After a few nights, I can still feel him near my toes. So I wiggle my toes at him, acknowledging this presence.

To be continued…

Who are you?” said the Caterpillar

On March 20th, while at the gym I received a text message from my friend, Karen. I broke down crying on the elliptical machine as I troubled her, via text, with the running list of bullshit that was happening: a job that I hate, being unable to get into a PhD program, the 30 jobs that I wasn’t good enough for, and the car accident that I had been in. Everything about my conversation was about feeling not just failure, but a desire to become complacent and loathing the thought of complacency. I am better than that but I wanted to give up on improving myself as a person. It wasn’t just the fear of failing, but the fear that I had accomplished everything that I could. I had peaked at age 26 and after a maternal failure, my pregnancy, I was destined to wither away. I didn’t feel sorry for myself but those around me. I felt sorry for my parents who want another grandchild. I felt sorry for my friends who I didn’t want to see because I thought they wouldn’t want to be around me. I felt sorry for my boyfriend having to look at me and realize that I was no longer the person that wrote my online dating profile. I might have been at one point but two years later, I have been back to fighting depression. I was fighting humiliation. I am fighting alone.

l prefaced my conversation with Karen, “what I am about to say sounded crazy.” I felt my energy and my livelihood being sucked out of me. I wanted to spend most of my days in bed. I was also dizzy, nauseous, and with migraines. I spent so much for the first quarter of 2015 asleep or in pain. I told her that I felt haunted. This was the work of an entity because all of a sudden I was afraid of my own home, my own car. When I would leave Andrew’s home, I would obsessively check my rear-view mirror in the hopes that I might catch a glimpse of what I was afraid of. In my backyard, it was the same thing. I would scramble to find my keys and get inside my house only to have to navigate through the dark, crowded, and suffocating garage. Once home, I would sleep in my room facing the wall. I was afraid of facing the open room. I began to develop a pain in my left shoulder because I forced myself to stay in that position. I didn’t let my hands hang off my bed. I was afraid. I pictured myself stroking someone’s longish hair while I slept. That thing was on the floor and I didn’t want to touch it. I would wake up exhausted and go to work. I would really only sleep at Andrew’s house, during the day. Then, my self-hatred of a bad girlfriend would appear because I just wanted to fucking sleep and he wanted me active. How do you tell the person that you love that you can’t move, you don’t have the energy because it has been sucked out of you? I already know I sound fucking crazy I don’t need someone close to me affirming that. I doubt he can understand. I told all this Karen and she recommended I see a shaman. She asked me if I believed and I told her that I honestly didn’t know. I don’t believe in God. I don’t feel his warmth like some people tell me. Both my sister and mother are happy to wake up in the morning. They attribute that happiness to God. I just wake up, cold, exhausted and in pain. I just don’t understand. I want to. Trust me. I want to believe in a higher power and have the faith that everything will be okay but I don’t. I feel alone in this world. And very lost.

It took me a while to schedule a session with Jon. But I did it. Normally I would do the research, but this time I didn’t. I tried once, I wanted to know what he did but I was with Andrew and I didn’t want to be rude so I watched maybe two minutes of a video before I put it away. I still didn’t want to share what I would be doing because when I share something with him, I felt pressured to share with his friends or grandmother. I wish there was a way to just say HEY this is for you only. But he didn’t get that. This lack of intimacy has been a bit disconcerting. I hadn’t addressed it because I had more pressing matters such as my health and mental well-being. I kind of put my relationship on a shelf until I decided how to best address what was going to take place with the shaman. Working on my relationship with Andrew would just open another can of worms that I couldn’t address. One damn thing at a time.

To prepare myself for the energy cleansing, I visited my friend Crystal. At first, I didn’t let her know what I would be doing and instead decided to play catch up. Then over dinner, I let her know what I had been experiencing. She let me know that she was totally on board with it and was very supported. It was great. I needed that. I told her about feeling scared in my house and reminded her that two children have died there, my sister, Laura, and my child, Anya. My sister’s birthday was April 12th, the same day as my cleansing. I didn’t plan it that way. I told her that my child’s birthday would have been April 2nd (the day that I met up with Crystal) while her anniversary is November 10th and my sister’s December 17th. Both dates have kind of blended into one and it’s hard to cope when I am feeling alone and my mother is going through her own loss. I’ve been learning to deal with mine but I don’t think it’s enough. My sister’s ashes are kept at home while I have nothing except four ultrasound photos. I’m not afraid of my sister but that is not the presence that I felt in the mornings. I was scared of looking in the room where she is kept. I told Crystal that when I am angry I felt the aggression of a male inside me. I wanted to punch walls  and hit things with a bat. Sometimes I wanted to hurt small animals. I didn’t have these feelings before. I’ve always had repressed feeling and these have been coming up for a while. On a side note: I never acted upon these feelings. I was scared when I am showering, even at Andrew’s. Something about restrooms had been scaring me. Before I peed I would I open up my shower curtain and I was unsure of why. Just new thoughts, feelings and behaviors for this year. I told Crystal that as a child I would tell everyone that I wanted to go home. I was in my house, the same house that I live in today, but that I would always tell my dad (never my mom) that I wanted to go home. I just wanted to go home. And that I wasn’t there. But even today I don’t understand what that means. But I do know that 26 years of living in the same house hasn’t brought me an close to “home.” I told her that I think of England often, almost as if in my past life, I was there. I can sometimes feel the cold stones of some ruin and the cobblestones. I often dream of being barefooted on the cobblestone. I told her about my sister, my mom, my aunt, my grandmother and my grandmother’s sister, and great-grandmothers. I hate being around my aunt. She looks at me like she is looking past me and that she will use me. She manipulates. My grandmother is too far involved with God to notice anyone being harmful. She hates my mother and obsesses over my aunt. Every time my grandmother comes all freaking day long it’s a sigh… and a “pobrecita.” If I could, I would punch my grandmother in the face and say “stop babying your 50+ year old daughter.” Again there is that weird violent aggressiveness. And it’s 99.99999% towards women and family. My great-grandmothers are the ones I find the most interesting. One very intuitive with nature: she would also peer into your very soul and tell you things; while the other very angry and blinded by the injustices in her life. I’m afraid of becoming like her. I don’t want to carry the boulders forever. Actually I don’t even want to pick up the boulders. How do I stop myself from picking them up? I told Crystal that my mom lost two daughters and was left with two, my aunt had two daughters, my grandmother had two daughters, and that my grandmother’s sister had two daughters and that my mom’s grandmother had a few daughters pass away and ended up with just the two daughters as well. I don’t believe in divine intervention or coincidence, but there must be something there but what?

I spoke to Karen, again, (but not to that extent!) and she recommended a few questions: What do I want to change about my life? What is your greatest wishes and desires with career, money, relationships, etc? So I began to write:

  1. I want direction, a clear purpose in my life.
  2. I want to know why I am still alive.
  3. I want to know why I can’t have children.
  4. I want to know why I never feel like a good daughter. No joke. I feel like a great Catholic and I don’t even step foot in a church. I’m riddled with guilt all the time. I never think I am good enough and that I could be doing more.
  5. I want to be selfish and embrace it. Not using other people but self-caring. I want to believe in the right of self-preservation. I deserve to take care of myself without someone questioning me. Or me not caring about their question. No. I don’t want them to question me at all. I don’t want their fucking opinion.
  6. I want to move forward in my relationship with Andrew but I don’t know if he wants to or not. At this point I am too afraid to ask. I don’t want to be stuck again for another eight years moving at a snail’s pace and turning 36 and have another failed relationship going absolutely no where. I feel really sad when I think about how my 20s were destroyed. A time of self-discovery lost to one relationship. I won’t do that with my 30s. I want to be able to lay in bed with the man I love and not being afraid of someone walking in on us. I want to speak my mind to him and not have to explain myself to people who don’t make up our relationship like his grandmother or my parents. I want to wake up with him next to me and have that companionship that I haven’t felt in months. I want to struggle as an adult with real adult problems and not feel like a freaking teenager.
  7. I need independence and the ability to grow as a person, as a woman instead of feeling like I am just going through puberty. I want to look in the mirror and smile. I want to feel happiness. What does that even mean? I don’t even know what happiness feels like. When was the last time I was happy? In Hawaii when I laughed so much it hurt. Happiness now just feels like a delirious feeling. Most of the time when others are happy and I should be happy, I just feel calm. Or I just fake it. I’m tired of faking everything in my life. I’m living a lie.
  8. I want to cry without having to explain myself or have someone try and fix me.
  9. I want to support a loving relationship and feel supported.