Went on a tour of my subconscious and found my inner child…Adventure 1

Trigger Warning to those who are sensitive to themes of abandonment, loss of children, or traumatic childhoods

I started in my chest, I felt some fluttering and I saw a little girl…I immediately didn’t know what to do, or what to say. She didn’t look at me and I was embarrassed because I knew who this was (the baby I had to abort when I was in the military). I was going to say sorry, or start crying…I was worried she wouldn’t want to see me. Instead I smiled and said hello, my face lit up and I told her I was excited to see her here, that she choose to stay here. She was the sweetest, she was happy to see me too. She told me her name was Amy and that she was four years old…my little Amy, I was so happy…I could feel her flutter in my chest…I could feel there was a block under the surface of my heart. Amy left, and I asked “who is this?” I didn’t hear anything but I stayed with the block, and asked the same question again very softly.

A little boy dressed in a superman costume came flying up and said “i want to be happy, I want to be joyful.” I let him speak but I could feel the block was still there. I waited a while, he flew off and i asked again “whos there?”

I got my answer, i was in a delicate forrest with a clearing, just like one from a disney animation, and there was a lake. In the lake a large black monster made of sludge was there in obvious pain. I knew by now to go towards it. I could see it didn’t want to talk and it had nothing nice to say. I rolled up my sleeves and slowly started to treat the water. With a small cup i slowly scooped out the mess and little by little the monster shrank and became weaker. I held her hand because I knew she was in pain, she told me to stop and that I was killing her. I told her she’s not dying and that it hurts to become clean after you’ve been polluted for so long. I sat with her and held her hand because she needed me and once she was completely dissolved a little girl jumped out of the lake and ran to go play, full of giggles. That little girl was charlotte and Amy’s little sister. I have had 2 abortions in my life that I always felt longing over, but here they were. Ages four and two, playful and sweet, better than I imagined. They both accepted me with open arms.

I heard this faint singing coming from my gut area, “figure 8 is double 4, figure 4 is half of eight…”. (If you never watched schoolhouse rock, this was a song on the math video that i couldn’t stop singing for some reason this week) I curiously went down to see who it was. In the back of my gut, behind a door was my inner child. She was slumped over in a chair, her hair was long and tangled, feet had long toenails that needed tending to. I was happy that she spoke up and that I could hear her. Even though I was standing in front of her and pulled her into an embrace I could also see there was no life in her eyes. She was very monotone and lifeless, like she was in a deep depression. She changed size from small to a giant that resembled a troll. and I took her to the bathroom adjacent from the room she was in to help clean her up. I asked her what was wrong, she told me “mommy and daddy dont like me” and all I could do was sit with her because I knew exactly how she felt.

She resided in that room for so long, hiding in my gut instinct, alone, feeling abandoned and unloved. I imagine my shame tormented her over and over until she was driven there. To sit with toxic thoughts that for her were true. Incredibly I didn’t feel hopeless, i actually thought my inner child died a long time ago, but she was just hiding…and for that i was grateful. I figured I could be with her and support her and bring her out of her room. I was here to keep my own self from hurting her like i did all the time.

It finally made sense why at my core I was so sad and feeling alone, my little one was feeling that way, by herself in perpetual childhood. Nothing in my own subconscious being kind to her, just monsters and tormentors…Exploring oneself is scary but there is nothing to be afraid of, there’s nothing you cannot fix or clean up. There is no wrong way to take care of your inner world. I was scared to go because of how messy I knew it would be, I was scared of the monsters that lurked around, but it was all me in the end.

Photo by Darina Belonogova on Pexels.com

Dexter’s Lab

I love the show Dexter!

Not the throwback of the kid in the laboratory, but the undercover psychopath that kills bad people.

One of my BIGGEST pet peeves in life is UNFAIRNESS, I love for things to be fair and square. This is exactly what Dexter does. He gives these bad people what they gave to others. He does things to them that other people wouldn’t have the balls, conscious or stomach for.

And there was a word mentioned on the show, the word Antisocial Personality Disorder.

Naturally, I looked it up and low n’ behold these were traits that an ex I once dated possessed. He told me about his traumatic life and I realized he’s a lot like Dexter. He feels empty, and hes just looking for something to fill the hole.

But…instead of filling his hole with unsightly victims, he tries to fill it with women, and one of those women happened to be me, Victim number…probably lost count.

Even after I asked him, and questioned him about dating I was convinced that I could let my guard down. My co-workers knew, my friends knew, his ex knew, and when it all crumbled away in just 2 short months I felt excruciating embarrassment. And the worst part was everyone still loved him. They did not have to see the side I saw. To them, he was the sunshine in the fucking sky. He didn’t feel any remorse, no sadness. He even got mad when I wouldn’t treat him like everyone else, and again I got a glimpse of the mean side, that only I got to see.

Eventually he got a new girl and carried on his life like normal. It felt like he was rubbing it in my face. I wanted him to feel the pain I did. But he doesn’t feel emotion or remorse, it doesn’t affect him.

I wish I could be a Dexter, that would set that shit straight. People always get away with hurting others emotionally because there is not consequence, but that shit hurts. Invisible wounds that you are supposed to brush off while the ones who caused those wounds, they get to live out their lives without feeling a thing.

I wanted to stab him in the leg while looking him dead in his eyes. I could watch him curse and scream. 

“There now there’s a hole that REALLY needs to be filled,” I would say,

His eyes might water, and his face would turn red. And he would finally know how it felt. He would finally pay for his crime against me. And every time he looks at his leg there would be a scar to remind him not to use people to fill himself up, like others are concrete. Not to pretend to be something hes not. Not to manipulate and misguide. Not to be a liar. To play FAIR. And when the police would come because he pressed charges I would simply say;

“He cant feel pain on the inside, so he had to feel it on the outside. He uses people and he deserves it.”

The police would agree and the world would be in balance once again.

BUT THAT’S ALL HYPOTHETICAL…

Anyway who’s side would you be on?

Love

-Dexter for a Day

 

A lil bit of morbid advice that I use on the daily

These days I find myself doing a lot of things because its what I should do. I always get advice from people to “live the way you want” or “just do what makes you happy“, but in my opinion that just sounded like a really bad idea waiting to happen.

I really WANT to quit my good paying job, skip town and backpack overseas, BUT I probably shouldn’t. I cant help it. I think about finances, where would I live, language barriers, men waiting to take advantage of me, never seeing my family, getting really sick with no health insurance, and the list goes on and on. Its not the fact that i’m scared, its the fact that I am not PREPARED.

I’m always concerned about not being prepared enough.

I put all my energy into doing things carefully, risk free until i’m am able to take the next step. I will not leave a job if I do not have a back up plan. I will not take a trip to another country without being well funded. It makes life a lot less hectic despite what I WANT to do.

I should also mention that during this time I have completely immersed myself in unsolved murder mysteries. It was unsettling that regular peoples lives were ended in just hours over fights, coincidences or simply being in the wrong place at the right time (for the killer). Drowned, beaten, gunned down, or stabbed, these individuals killers are still on the loose without any justice for the deceased. Through this sad reality I realized something.

No matter how much you prepare, how good of a human being you try to be, or how you live your life, in the end death will come for you. It can be unfair and painful or peaceful and overdue, but it does not matter what kind of person you decided to be. You can do WHATEVER you want, chase WHATEVER far fetched dream you have because when death comes for you it wont matter anymore. 

After this epiphany I realized that I’m scared to succeed,and I’m scared to chase my dreams because they are challenging. Knowing that death will come no matter what I do makes it easier for me to do things that I’m scared of. Things that I thought were bad, outrageous or unnecessary.

IT LITERALLY DOES NOT MATTER.

We all go the same way in the end. 

 

Therapy Blues

When I first thought about going to therapy I was quite young; young enough for my

mom to dismiss my tiny curiosity.

In my 20th year of life I got the courage (and the insurance) to see a therapist that my aunt recommended. He was a large man with a rumbling voice, which made me a little uncomfortable. It was really awkward for me because he was not someone I knew, nor was he a close friend, so it felt like I was reading a grocery list. I was scared, but I tried my best to say what I felt. After a few sessions, I realized this man would listen to me partly, and soon the topic would be shifted towards himself. I felt like an open wine bottle that got re corked, so I stopped going.

A few months later I began seeing a psychotherapist, and I just knew it would work this time. She was a slender woman with a thick Portuguese accent, and during our sessions a cute Pyrenees dog by the name of max would let me pet him. She introduced me to the concept of CBT or cognitive behavioral therapy, which basically means taking the old thinking patterns in my brain, questioning them and then changing them over a period of time. I liked this idea a lot, but I was quickly turned off when I was advised to buy a book. I tried to keep going but the connection was not there.

The last therapist I saw was this bubbly brunette who kept snacks in her office. She was really sweet, and I really wanted to stick with therapy so I would go on Friday every week. I really thought things would get better, but I still felt the same. I felt like my feelings were so erratic that it was hard to explain, or that she would not understand. In the end I just stopped going.

Price wise all of these sessions ranged from 90 to 20 dollars and a lot of therapists/psychotherapists do not take insurance.  This along with commute times and having to come after work was so draining for me, so I don’t know if i see therapy in my future. I am looking into a pet, possibly a guinea pig or lizard, something small that I can hold and take care of.

In the mean time I have found that working out helps a lot, eating the right food and getting enough alone time to do things that I enjoy.

Happy Pills?

A  couple months ago I got really sick of being depressed, and I wanted to do something about it. So I did the thing I was always scared to do, I set up an appointment with a psychologist oops I mean a psychiatrist. I get those two guys confused, but the latter can prescribe medication. I had been in therapy for quite some time [I’ll post more about that experience in another post], but I didn’t get any fulfillment from it. The psychiatrist listened to a summary of all of my reoccurring issues, typed on her computer and told me that I have major depressive disorder along with anxiety. I cried when she told me that because I had always knew this, but to hear it from someone else was a mixture of reality and relief. She wrote me a prescription and she told me three things: first, this was not my fault nor am I a bad person, secondly it is a curable disease that can take up to 2 years to cure, lastly it is a trial and error with these medications, so if one doesn’t work I will have to try a different kind.

I was also told that these medications take up to two weeks before they actually start to work. I wasn’t prepared for the first week. I felt a lot of energy, as if i was on adderal, and I was more keen to have conversations with people. The only drawback would be the nacreous feeling it gave me and the small crash i felt after the high. I hated it even more when I realized that drinking, smoking weed and anti depressants DO NOT go hand in hand. I couldn’t hardly finish one drink and the down afterwards would be magnified by 100. After smoking I felt like a different person and I wanted to throw my pills away, or my heart would race so fast. I had to change my lifestyle completely and after a while I gave them up. During this time Hurricane Harvey hit Houston and I couldn’t get a hold of a doctor for weeks so I took the last few pills I had and jumped back on the drinking/smoking train to ease any drawbacks I might feel.

Seven months later. and I’m starting to feel the effects of the depression, drinking and smoking. Its severing my relationships with others and most importantly myself. I scheduled an appointment with another psychiatrist to start the happy pills again, and this time I’ll do it right

. 

Hello darkness my old friend

It never works for me to be sad. I always end up having to claw my way out of that dark ass hole, and that shit takes forever! I love being sad though, it’s all I know.

*hello darkness my old friend*

I go to this hole whenever something is off, my sleep, my relationships, my eating habits anything but my biggest one is stress. If I get stressed, I get depressed.

It sucks because my body is sensitive to everything, so if one thing is off balance, my stress levels start rising. Keeping my stress in check is a huge mega deal for me, but it IS a full time job.

On top of my actual job, and I’m starting school soon, please send prayers your girl needs it!

 

 

 

Did we just become best friends?

So I have a special friend in my life who I know is my best friend. All of my doubts about her are gone and I truly do love her. I can be my insecure self and she accepts it. She helps me a lot by making things seem better than what I imagine them to be. She’s not afraid to talk openly and tell the truth. I realized I always tell her when I’m sad and I’m afraid that I might be sub consciously using her. I don’t want to use her. I sometimes feel like I don’t deserve such a sweet friend. She really is. She and me stuck it out and a friendship just works with her. I like the fact that we don’t talk everyday but we still have a connection. That space is nice. She doesn’t care if we have deep conversations about things. Her perspective is so brilliant. She’s talented, and sensible. She’s lovable and understanding. Its always a good time.

I hope you have someone like this for yourself. She told me that having best friends is good that way “you don’t feel like the whole world is against you”. And god the world does feel like that a lot!

I’m a pusher Cady, I push people

I’m a pusher alright. Saying that makes me think of someone in labor. Anyway does any one else push everyone away? I think that’s why I low-key want to move away all the time, so I can drive a bigger wedge in between me and THEM.

To my friends: I’m not going to invest a lot of anything in you because you probably see me as disposable, and therefore will drop me as soon as you find out that the girl you thought was super cool, is actually super insecure and sad. She’s gonna have a really hard time keeping a connection with you because her anxiety is gonna leave her in a mess of frazzled nerves. Oh, and don’t worry I’ll make sure to put you through “tests” to find out if you will stay because that’s what people love to do in their spare time right?

To any guys/love interests: I’ll be myself for the first few days, mostly because I’m nervous and I cant pretend to be the other Cheiyenne. We will connect well enough , but after a week passes I’m going to start feeling awkward because I won’t know how to be “chill” anymore. I’m gonna obsess over the fact that I’m not the same Cheiyenne you met a week ago and wonder how long you will put up with my insecurities before you bolt. I will also lose faith in myself and assume that you will find someone better, but at the same time hoping you don’t go anywhere.

To my family: Boy, I feel the worst for you guys. You have to live with me and see my erratic mood swings. You get to live with a hermit who will show very little enthusiasm when you come home because I want to “be alone” but really I’m just pushing you away because you care about me. You care enough to ask how I am, and you’re always saying nice things which makes me think that you’re lying. God forbid you hurt my feelings at all because it gives me an excuse to put up a wall. Because being a close knit family feels gross and unrealistic in my head.

To my casual acquaintances: I hope you cash me on a good day because if you don’t I will most likely act brand new. Mostly because I feel weird when I have not seen someone in a while and I don’t feel like entertaining you with the Cheiyenne you’re used to because I’m too depressed on the inside. Also I feel like you don’t like me anyway so whats the point right? lol

To my body: I’m sorry that I intentionally hurt you by eating bad, and keeping you locked away in your room. I’m sorry that I don’t take care of you the way I should. I’m sorry for all the stress and the fact that I don’t let you rest. I’m sorry that I allow people to violate you who have no right to.

Maybe I’ll try a therapist again lol

shitty people.

Something needs to change. I keep getting tangled up with shitty people. People that do not fit with me. People who keep me unhappy.

Monday Morning Blues

No matter how upset I get I have to remember not to hurt myself on purpose. I just want to intentionally screw up things for myself as punishment. I want to take the hurt I feel and use it to hurt myself. I should channel it into something more productive, but right now I just feel so down. Earth can really be hell for me most of the time. I’m getting stretched so much these days, it hurts. Things are so much better when I’m alone, but maybe being alone needs to change. Maybe being alone isn’t as comforting as I think it is. I want to isolate myself when I get hurt, so maybe I should speak up instead. Okay Have a Great Morning!