Secrets to live by. The 48-hour rule.

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Secrets to live by. The 48-hour rule.

I ask myself, “If I had 48 hours left to live , what would I do ? “

It makes you push aside anything that’s not truly important and focus on the things you love and make you happy! I would chose love and happiness over fun and a good night out .

It would take a special man.

A man that just “gets me” accepting my flaws and scars alike . I still have baggage that I’ve been working on leaving. I am not fragile living with shame and regret, drinking myself to the bottom of a bottle. Addicted to a kind of burning pain that leaves you mentally wounded . Trying to avoid the thinking,  highly medicated, and drinking.

Accept me as I am, or watch me as I step in these heels and wiggle my ass out the door.

Broken I am not.

A chaotic imperfect hot mess, definitely!

Inhaling the essence of a passionate soul lost long ago.
Gone is the prison and it’s heavy chains, replaced by walls of boundaries, that will not be crossed.

Settling is not an option.

This was the conversation last night  

I have never really gotten into the online dating thing . I am an addict, I have emotional scars , Behind the smile , there are still moments of great shame and regret.  I understand that I can not undo the past, I now put effort into letting  go.  I assume this will be a on going process.

So there it is .. After waiting a few minutes , I was not surprised when the real person showed up. As the conversation went south,  It took no time for me and my new high heels to wiggle my ass out of there .

As i was looking for a taxi , I ran into a friend that I haven’t seen in many years . Bottom line is the night wasn’t wasted.

Yet, I couldn’t  help but  wonder, what was this guy doing while I was sitting there having the all important first date conversation ? As I recall he played with hair quite a bit, and was playing his clothes every 5 secs..

Lets’ just call it a day and  image that somewhere in there was a woman dying to come out and bitch slap him back to the 80’s . .

Apparently, ” I’m a woman” and and I have “feelings” and those” feelings” are activated through my vagina.

How should I process that shit ? I’m dangerous when I know what I am doing and know who’s doing it to me.

I’m dangerous when I know what I am doing and know who’s doing it to me.

When a woman says “don’t make me go there”, wait 2 mins and she’s there .   I don’t negotiate .

 

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Covering up the invisible scar.

tumblr_m8c6dns5ni1rwekvgo1_500Here I am again.

I know that I am not blogging as much but , somehow, someway, I am trying to find a life for myself or rather a life outside amongst the living . Most of you that read my blog regularly will “get “ what I am saying . It is such an effort to leave my little cave of self pity , Bipolar, ADHD, Addiction , sometimes filled with sadness and regret that was made by my own choices .

Some of us are comfortable in our own skin. In my opinion these are people that learned boundaries at an early age. I am not sure where I went wrong with that . I am not interested today at the blaming game . Around this time that I thought that looking like Madonna in the pointy bra’s and come f**k me pumps, was enough reason to leave my boundaries at the door. I felt that I was old enough to make the choice to step over to the other side. Most of you know what I mean.

But that was then . I am not my mistakes . I am not the spooky figure that use to haunt me on a daily basis. Allowing ME to give myself the right to dig that hole a little bit deeper . I have accepted my faults, my selfishness, and downright unacceptable behavior . ( I really wanted to say” thug” behavior ). I have said it so often , that it reminds me of listening to a tape that has been rewinded . ( for those of you a bit confused , allow me to help you a bit. It was before Facebook , CD’s and most likely a time that Steve Jobs – bless him , was hitting the MJ and inventing what most of us believe, we can not live without. If you are thinking iPhone , nope ! Dig a bit deeper . )

Since I try to be honest in my blog, concerning my feelings and thoughts. Let me be honest enough to say “ I forgot where I was going with this “ . Not good for a person pointing the finger at life without social media , CD’s and the miracle worker himself Steve Jobs more like a demented old gal reliving the old days .

Ok I am back on track. I found that living a life so isolated was full of fear and allowed whatever depression I was going through to escalated into something much more fearful. No one knew if I drank a bottle of vodka a day or if I was snorting myself into what I can recall truly hell. By involving myself into the real world. I have to be accountable( OK, that may be overdoing it , but I am on the right track ), Still, the nagging feeling of having to attend certain functions, or just picking up the phone , not ignoring my Facebook messages , or actually having to answer back on “Whatsapp” was my big step.

I felt a sense of belonging , wasn’t this what I was moaning about in the first place? I have finally come to understand when you let others in, some doors that you open will be filled with smiles and blessings . At the time you may not know it , but when the moment comes that you do get it, it will be a “ah ha moment” .

On the flip side , not all doors are meant to be opened . If you have high expectations , you will feel the burn. Truthfully I won’t sit here and say the burn won’t hurt or leave a scar.
I have many personal scars. My scars are shameful, full of regret, and more often than not these days just a reminder .

My scars are teaching me to move on. Unloading some of the most difficult times of my life. For example: Today I found a scar that I had either forgotten or had just been so numb that I forgot that it was there . ( It could be that I didn’t see it because it was on the back of my a**).

I looked into the mirror , almost shocked and thinking “what is this?”. Within seconds I knew. It all came back. It is ugly, but it reminded me of who I used to be. I am a shell of that person now. Still, I cried with great sorrow. Because I was face to face with reality . The reality of the person that I keep trying to forgive, to dismiss, the person that I was so comfortable with . I thought how in the hell could you forget this scar. It was not a casual scar. There was anger and fear behind this certain scar. This scar was a lifetime ago. Yet, this scar left me fighting for my life . Fighting to breath .

Today , I had a overwhelming feeling to remember the scar and move on.
That was it.
No drama .
No self pity.
I looked, I saw , I asked for forgiveness, and I moved on. Somehow I felt as if I was moving on from all my scars.

A year ago this would have been enough to give myself permission to become self destructive with a reason , so I would have thought .

Today, I have chosen to , live in the now as much as I can.

The phone rings :

On the other line:

“ hey , what do you think about a walk in the park, it’s lovely weather, Lets have a date. Let’s go to dinner” ?

Me:
Uh , yes a walk in the park would be great.

On the other line:

What about the date thing ? what about dinner ? Aren’t you tired of this? Let’s just go and see where the day takes us!

Me:
Uh, thinking ,” think fast “ . Ok it’s lovely weather let’s hook up.

Yes, I know I took the easy way with this . Leaving it open. But I suddenly found some cover up and the scar was gone. For now.

My whole point is , it is still hard to find myself out and being social. Sometimes, I feel as if I don’t belong. “what will happen when these people really know about me? ” Am I being false ?

In the end , It cover these feelings up the same way I covered the scar. I am not there yet , I have a 6 year old scar that has cut the deepest. I haven’t found the correct cover-up yet. But If I dig really hard , I know it is there.

Just like the scars before , it will be forgotten.

Have a great day everyone .

 

 

my website :

www.brokenopenscars.com

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