Trust & Issues

My heart has lead me to painful memories.
My brain has planned failures and sabotages.
Delusions of my vision, materializing the impossible.
Heard voices that wouldn’t allow me to move, or breath.
People I’ve loved had abused me, mentally and physically.
I’ve been so paranoid that I wouldn’t come out from under my sheets.
I’ve trusted people that only wanted to use me.
I tried to kill myself.
I’ve wished I was dead.
I can’t trust myself.

Now, my love…How can I trust you?

Out of my comfort zone.

It has been a while since I’ve updated my “status” so…this is what I’ve been up to:                      

1. I’m back on medication…that is triggering by itself, and I haven’t stopped since my last episode.

2. I’ve started therapy…let me tell you: I’m proud of all the people that struggle with all those feelings that come up from reliving your traumas and triggers during therapy!

👏👏👏

That. Is. Tough! I’ve been having all these mixed episodes…

Some days I feel so overwhelmed that I don’t even know what I’m feeling! What I do know for sure, is that I don’t want to feel that way.

One of my biggest struggles is change, so…be prepared for some real triggering stuff in the near future!

3. I’ve collaborated with the multi-talented Martina Bertola.  <3

(part 1)(part 2)(emotionsdon’tscareme)(Animus&Anima)

4. I’ve been actively promoting my poetry/art (or whatever it is)…Waaaaay out of my comfort zone!

First was reading my poems for the Worldbipolarday in Haarlem…in Dutch! 🙈 (plusminus)   

I was so nervous, shaking and making mistakes, OH MY GOOOOD! Terrifying!

In May – June I had my second exposition, with pictures and poems that I hope went straight to the/your heart 😉   (Wijkcentrum Alleman)

Then went to a “Poeziemiddag” and decided to improvise and recite some of my poems, live, again! I must admit it went better, I’m proud of myself =)

That escalated into me doing it a third time…soon 😱:

Will you be there? I have a surprise for you! =)

(het nederlands blog initiatief)


Chemistry and intimacy

Looking deeply into your eyes, never a break until the volcano erupts in that disastrous lava that we crave, becoming greedy and shameless.
I feel the tenderness of your lips, tongue, on my weakest spots…Bermuda triangles with coordinates that you’ve learned to read and navigate, exciting me, making me what I hate to be: human and vulnerable.
You’ve managed to put me against myself: daring to fail.                    

This is our field, and as such, strategy is a must:

The war of love against pleasure.
One road to purity, unity, and humanity, but also the gates of an unperfected hell, where cowardness and shame expect me.
Tired, weak, shaking… I’ll still continue till my last breath.
A pleasure that will be lost in the silence of these walls that I’ve built and broken so many times before.

The pain caused by the battle is satisfaction, achievement, and addiction that it’s hard to get rid of because…
It never feels so good to lose power and control.

Thunders during the storm.

This is definitely the biggest raindrop I’ve ever felt, seen, and the wind?! So strong…

It is a good day: the day that I decide to get rid of you. Forever.
I’ll miss you…for a few days…and then it’s over.

The decision to love myself came late, whatever that is, late, too late for me. I know better.

For years you’ve been my friend, my air, my rest and my secure place.

Yeah, I’ll miss you for sure…but you’re killing me.
For years all I wanted was to be with you.

Now I know that I’ll be happier without you, richer, healthy from your poison and your lies of false support.

I don’t hate you, on the contrary…but I chose to love myself more.

We’ll part ways with a celebration…after that never again.

The pianist of our bodies.

I want to love you the way that the pianist loves the touch and sound of the notes;make love to you with my eyes closed, just as we enjoy every sensation while feeling your fingers touching my hidden keys.

Laugh with you as our bodies touch in this perfect dance, and feel the pain on my fingertips but still be willing to never want to stop or give up, until the concert is over.

After all those feelings of pleasure…bow down, exit and leave you wanting to come back for more.

Animal comes to play.

A wind that carries me away,
On a dance that I love, but can’t let myself go.
This tango isn’t meant to be, it breaks my heart, endlessly.

Rains.
Cold.
Shivers.

I grab onto my legs,
I can feel it, I’m losing control.
But I won’t.

I understand the beast, see it and hear it too, while it tries to shake my fundamentals.
But never my soul.

When it comes, beautiful, sensual beast of deception,
I’m tempted to play.
But I won’t risk my life no more.

The beast won’t win today.
Ever.
I am here to stay.

My scars will do the talking.
Ph: Juany Sanchez Lino

Super + Power = SupermePower (Mom’s secret recipe)

Me: Cooking isn’t my passion, but I’m an expert at Mixing! On the other hand, cooking is my mom’s area of expertise, so please, come closer and read, cause I have a new recipe that I would like to teach: my Mom’s Secret Recipe for Power!
Ma: Do you recognize that feeling called Happiness?
Super!
We add it with some Passion, because any good Work, can’t be done without it, obviously…

Tastes like Sugar, wanna try?
Good, right?

Me: How much happiness is enough?
And passion?

Ma: You’ll feel it.
Now let’s mix it: Up, Straight, Round and Down, and continue until you feel dizzy, sorry, I meant: the Emotions Look Mixed!
Narrator: Confused?
You should be, because the taste, ehm ehm, FEELING was the right word, sorry…

?

Me: How much happiness is enough?
And passion?
And mixing?

Ma: Just think, feel, add and taste!
It still needs some Love!

Me: I hate cooking!
Ma: It’s really cheap and convenient recipe, I’m sure you can do it, and it’s healthy too!

Narrator: For the Prize of a Little bit of your Attention, Time, and Patience I’ll give to you:

Ma: POWER!
(Tadaaaaaaaaaaaaaa)!

Me: it tastes delicious ma, great work!
Side Effects may include: Growing Up; Feeling Amazing; Learning New Things and Taking Responsibility for your Actions.

P.s. It tastes even better if you let it Rest for a while before you Eat it!

🙂

Narrator: You can leave, get offended, and she too could, but you’re both fighters, so stay until you can find a way that works for all of you.

Me: Ma, it worked!
Ma: (…)Yes, talk to you Soon SweetHeart, okay? Love you!

Me: Love you more Ma, thank you.
Click.
Empowered.

Evolution.

Getting to know one another, no more Fear.
  You discovered fire. I Ice. And Ice always win.
That’s what we want and need.
   Reality, a better one.
Discovering that when I’m feeling overwhelmed an ice cube can bring me back to this reality.
Something small, not painful and effective.
Let’s help each other out, it’s cold outside.
Don’t Feel Cold for No Reason.
A hug, a smile, an animal that looks at you with his curious eyes.
I love it.

P.s. Just saying…good tip for the psychotic days and for the people that don’t know what to do for the people they love.

Help us go back, leave the fire that we have inside, and give us the cold, loving way of bringing us back into this world.

Watch me outgrow you.

Ego, big, unstoppable.
Anger, sadness and painful.

It was you, it was me, it was…
Nothing.

No hate, no judgment.
Understanding and open doors, so that the wind can flow through.

Waves of tears to submerge the tip of the iceberg.
Until it breaks.

     New water flows into rivers of joy.
I’ll see you pass by, and I’ll be glad.

I’m still growing.
I’m still better

I’m still myself.
I’m still here, evolving.

And you…
Jealousy…

Mayday…or May Die?

That’s up to you…
Eitherways I’ll see your corpse passing by.

Labels & Stigma

I always hated labels…there were just too many, it was always confusing for me.

I always think outside the box, so how could I place myself in a box now: Woman; Black; Latin, Honduran; Italian; Gucci; Coca-cola, Puber…

I learned pretty quickly that people would judge me based on whatever label I had, by nature, force or by choice. They changed so quickly and often, it was exhausting!
Some stay with you forever, but that meant peace for me: I’ll know myself.
There were certain labels that I was supposed to have in order to fit in, but for me, it had the opposite effect: I felt more left out.
Branded clothes made me fit in with a certain group of people; another group would judge me as a shallow girl because of it.

When I was psychotic for the first time I heard voices… I’ll never forget the time that I was doing laundry:
Picked up a pair of jeans to throw them in, read the label that said something like ‘Sexy Jessica’…
“so, you want to be Sexy ha? You dress like a prostitute…have you no shame? Why would you put th

at on yourself? And you’re not Jessica, you’re a fake”…

The voices tortured me till the point where I was embarrassed, panicking and pulling my hair out on the bathroom floor.

Self-doubt was and still is my hell.

Since then, whenever I buy clothes and stuff I try to buy it without labels: no brands, just colors.

That’s Me. A person, with feelings, not a label.

When I got diagnosed with bipolar disorder 1 I was really mad and fed up!
I knew what came with those types of labels, and I was already struggling with my own life: people n

ot wanting to sit next to me, or changing road if I was walking behind because I’m Black;

Not being ‘strong enough’ or ‘too emotional’ because I was a woman;
Born in Honduras, raised in Italy, now because of a paper was I Italian? How would I introduce myself?
Man, does anyone think about these things like I do? Is there something wrong with me?

I was always worried about other people’s perspective of me and I truly suffered because of it.
I didn’t know who I was. Can you imagine? One day you’re THIS, tomorrow WHAT?

I took me 3 years to fully accept my diagnosis.
It took me 28 years to understand that that is just one of the many words that triggers something in people based purely on poor knowledge, fear, and ignorance.
I took another diagnosis (OCPD) for me to realize that that’s just a word and that I decide the value and effect that it has on me.

“Mental disorder” is a scary combination of words:
It’s associated with the psychopaths and murderers on movies;
The word “crazy” to define something that people don’t understand;
And sure, something is out of order in my brain, but who is “normal”?

The most brilliant people in the world were all called crazy before people could understand what they meant, look at Einstein, Plato, or Van Gogh, and many more.
Different people, same story.

The problem isn’t the word, that’s solvable by looking at the definition and actively learning about it.
Ask people, ask.

The problem is feeling misunderstood, judge and left out because of something that you have no control over.

That is crazy to me.

Please, think about that when you teach the next generations how to be humans.

And please, can we talk about this? It has to end.