Chillax Amor By Carolina G. (Caroline Garcia)

        Chillax Amor  by Carolina G. (Caroline Garcia)

Have we reached into reason of self knowing and began that terrifying ascending path of the questionable dark shadow in terror and disdain plaguing at this being, begging to accuse with any answer you slowly give for, who am I?  

Look at that mirror reflection and claim to be the owner, I dare you.  Maybe if it causes a stream of forced reaction in red flowing pain screaming at you with a suicidal lust entrapping reality, rendering one incapable of answering another supposedly simple response to, what am I?  Still the question at hand is, who dares ask? And what is I? What am I doing here?  Leave detrimental impossibility for another dousing question unanswerable because your knowledge of "I" is now being accused of being non existent.  And if clarity of mind truly exists, it can also be extinguished.

Get the point?  Get to the destination of "mind" on the journey of "what if" and so begin the terror of truly terrifying measures.  Doubts of sanity will consume sense of self so weak and deranged at the very moment, the very second this starts, for it only takes a single moment of flinching doubt to render anyone dazed and unknowing.  And when that moment begins, which it will for everyone, who will you call upon to help you?  Who are you?  

Teach a child's mind to guard against the very enemy present within us all from our very conception, and the greatest gift from a parent is born.  No one can teach what they themselves don't know.  No one.  It is either shared when found, or it is not.  We're all born questioning and better find that guard along the way.  The moment is coming and it’s coming quickly.  Coming to each and every one of you who think, you exist.  

A questionable identity leaves what is thought to be "my name", pointless, rendering life's hold some sort of punishment or horrifically evil prank by some kind of inescapable force, a power few dare attempt to understand.  Only ONE, was born knowing, and his name is Jesus Christ.  This is not a belief, this is not a hope, neither is this a form of knowing, it is documented unquestionable fact.  Unquestionable because to question this, is to return to the original question at hand.  

Will this trying moment escape those of measurable brain capacity in memorization?   Those who believe themselves to be "smart"?  But what is smart?  The ability to memorize and hold large amounts of information or facts from this reality in ones brain?  Calling up a nicely organized index at a moments notice?  Hmmm, well soon find out now, won't we.

Definitions in subjection:

Lame - (of a person or animal) unable to walk normally because of an injury or illness affecting the leg or foot.  Uninspiring and dull, defective.

Smart - having or showing a quick-witted intelligence [mentally sharp].

Intellect - the faculty of reasoning and understanding objectively, with regard to abstract or academic matters.

Crazy - extremely annoyed or angry, mentally deranged, as manifested in a wild or aggressive way. 

As these questions sit inside your brain and walk over your existence, watch the sparking flame morph into a violent fire with a kerosene foundation of red, blue, orange and crystal disdain.  Words spitting deep from the mouth like a lame dame in a black and white movie processing the metamorphosis from truth to lies, right back down to lies and truth.  The difference in-between not so easily seen.

These worries and thoughts seem so simple to state, yet plague the mind of so many, and when they came upon me, they burned and singed into the recesses of my being, with a seeming never ending means.  I mean seriously,  questioning what's going on, tore through me for what seemed an unending impossible to understand or ever truly know, experience?  With that, please allow me to share where I'm at, and how I've come to know these comforts in growing such understandings of trust.  Resting at that beautiful knowing of who I am, and who is in me, watching, guiding, guarding constantly, speaking, knowing, praying for me along the way.

Let's start with who I used to be.  Better yet, let's start with how I came into this world, but let's not go too far back, we wanna stay on point and stick to the subject at hand, which is, who am I right now and how I came to rest in this place.  If your reading this it's most likely because you’d like to know too.  So the point is for me to share for the sake of sharing with another brother or sister of reality.  One whose caring and daring enough to believe these words so strangely expelling from me should also know, at least an outline of my past, in order to understand my current stance.   And if you know truth, belief doesn't even play a roll, you'll know truth when you hear it.  Just as game recognize game, truth recognize truth.  So here, we go.

My body's cultural and racial family heritage originates from Mexico and Spain, though its family migrated to America, lord knows how long ago, and so you'd most likely call it “American”.  Our cultural living style of popularity for that time was known as "cholo's, chola's, Zuit Suits or gangsters", as we so formally describe.  From at least three generations back, they were brought up in the projects of San Pedro and the hoods of Los Angeles California, spanning out to many surrounding southern cities as the family grew.  Child abuse was unfortunately a norm, yet love still held us all together somehow, hurt and pain was present and known too well. The most common abuse present in our family generations was of the "beating" type, with the presence of sexual abuse as well.  

However the mental and emotional forms seem to have played the cruelest part of so many loving family members lives growing up.  Addiction to the need for relief, via some form of substance always present.  Hence abuse rained down throughout the family, all the way through to my own child "hood". Yes, all forms included.  Yet abuse isn’t what made us who we are today, it's what shaped how we responded to our surroundings.  Why we responded with confusion, desperation and so many colorful forms of unloving dreadful actions.

Myself and the majority of my family were raised with the teachings of a religion known as Christianity/Catholicism.  We learned about the historical man Jesus Christ, whom lived and walked this planet (by documented fact) over two thousand years ago.  The bases of our learning was "The Bible".  As a child understanding the over all message was to be a loving kind person, as Jesus demonstrated and so horrifically died to show anyone who cared to know.  I'll always be thankful to my family for this seed planted beautifully.  I openly share my life now by taking the time to explain my own personal understandings. Though the price I'm paying is nothing compared to his life.  Nothing... at all.

He was a man with an inescapably powerful and deafening message, some dared rest their ears upon, and some tragically moved against that truth.  He was brutally murdered by his own family blood line generation, but not before sharing that message with them and as many other people as he knew would want to hear it.  This is fact, just as Dinosaurs are fact based on geological samples found on and in the earth so many MILLIONS of years later, yet his presence of only THOUSANDS of years past is still doubted and not believed by so many, though findings more descriptive and scientifically astounding exist in physical form today, with much more extensive date accuracy than dinosaurs themselves.   How ironic huh?   I don't see it's irony though, I see it as plain old denial and bold faced lies by those who KNOW the truth of his existence and spread the disbelief for their own deceptive benefit.  Fact is, his message shatters the very existence and plans for total domination and control of this ENTIRE planet, by the spirit of hate and abuse.  

That's right, the very spirit in control and physically alive today is the spirit of cold confusion lying deep within the foundation of the organization and systems of our planet.  Ask yourself, who keeps that spirit alive?  Spirits live in living breathing bodies.

Chapter 1 - Child Hood

Growing up as a child, I remember experiencing court rooms and lawyers.  Speaking to Judges and addressing those court rooms about who I wanted to live with, mom or dad, yet living with many different family members along the way, mostly loving and kind, some not so loving or kind.  The reasons for such experiences lay in connection to that addiction I spoke of earlier, which stems from the spirit of abuse.  A vicious circle of death indeed. But from what I can now see, the choice of not following the truth within the teachings of the historical man Jesus Christ, has the power to render anyone lost and abused by self without any sense of reason or purpose. 

I suppose you'd say they just didn't quite believe the message he sent, because they too were told of it.  Needing to learn to heed to the call he whispers in all of us, and not be confused by what another says he wants us to know from a book.  We too need to be love, walk in love, and SIN NOT, which in today's terms means, don't abuse yourself or anyone else.  Point blank.  Sin is Abuse.  Stop obeying the spirit of hate. Stop allowing the spirit of hate to live within you.

At the tender age of 12 I lost, or more, I tossed my virginity into a sewer on the side of the road for anyone who might possibly care to take it for its one time use, then throw it right back down again.  The experience was short, unloving and quite tragic, as upon completion of detachment from that withering decaying flower, the boy so sternly and coldly said, "get off me".  And it was complete.  It was Gone.  Never to be seen again, never to be remembered with excitement and joy.  Never to be given in a story to my own children as a good example of what to do, but to be shared with anyone, especially girls, as an example of what NOT to do.  

By age 14 ejected from a home I'd ran away from on occasion since age eleven.  There I was, tying sheets together, climbing down from a two story apartment building window, which I'd done with the help of my big sister, a few times before.  Tossing down my white platform heels, climbing down in a tight short dress, dusting off my feet, I put on those heels of attraction, focused on my walk, trying not to break my ankle, stepping on gravel and rocks.  Headed up the alley way to a public phone booth and called my escape boy to come swoop me up and take me away, far far away from what I can't even remember today as the reason for my desperately running away so many times before.  

A child in stiletto platform heels, ducking down under cars hiding from the cops, waiting eagerly for this “cute guy” and his friend, a stranger in a white car, to come get me.  Heart racing for being caught, and this was such an exciting adventure.  An adventure to destroy my body some more, in the only form of attention I knew how to get from a male, which as you now know was to throw it at him, for his pleasure and use. But this time finding a way back home was no where to be found, stranded, terrified and knowing I was going to get caught when mom awoke in the morning and didn't see me in the bathroom mirror spraying my hair with "sun in" hairspray, the anticipation rendered the day an ultimate life changing choice.  Little did I know I’d never be the same again.  

He snuck me cleverly into his house.  Hidden under the blankets of his bed, laying still as a pillow next to his hairy legs.  His dad walked in, exchanged a few words, and my presence wasn't even noticed.  Had to wait till the early morning when the first buses started running, in the dark hours of an area of the city I wasn’t familiar with, though knew to be dangerous. I was caught and I knew it.  Quietly, sadly I sat on the bus, fighting back tears, praying in my mind, “please don’t let her be too mad”.  I proceeded slowly up the stairs.  She wasn't home.  Why wasn't she home?  Where did she go.  I'm scared.  I’m so scared.  She's gonna hit me but that's okay, if she just doesn't ask me what I've been doing or who I've been with.  I commenced to cleaning the house in hopes to ease her anger when she returned to see me at home and not in school.  

Time moving like molasses on a cold winters day.  I'm sitting waiting, worrying, wondering on the couch.  The key turns in the lock and I watch her come in.  The look of steaming hot anger she gave was burning in my soul.  "Where have you been Caroline!  What were you doing."  Silence.  I didn't know how to answer.  I didn't want to tell her I was having sex with boys already.  She approached quickly and up close to my face.  

Slap!  

The sting singed the side of my face.  

I couldn't even look at her as I cried and remained silent, hands blocking the side of my head.  Embarrassing, my heart beating fast for fear she'd ask me again, "what the fuck have you been doing Caroline, I’m not gonna ask you again!".  My sister watching from the kitchen.  But I just couldn't tell her, I was too ashamed.  Ashamed of my actions, ashamed of that less than romantic smelly hotel room bed and the car shop bathroom floor experiences.

The screaming and yelling finally stopped.  Silence, then I heard what I'd been waiting to hear the whole time, my way out of telling the truth, my escape from questioning.  She screamed the best words I waited to hear, "Get the fuck out".  I ran out, the sun beautiful and warm on my face, such a nice spring day, tears flowing down my not so innocent cheeks, I ended up at a phone booth.  I called my older friend who had a car of her own, a friend I'd snuck out with so many times before.  My young, abused as well neighbor, with a car of her own.  She came through and brought me to stay a few cities away.  Her friends moms pad.  Us all being too familiar with some form of adult child parental abuse.  Her mom was an old school vethe hood rat.  Into more dangerous forms of self abuse, much more dangerous than drinking strawberry boons farm, playing dominoes listening to oldies with the homies.  She enjoyed the "crystal meth and speed balls".  

And now I’d be staying with her while she tried to pawn me off on ANY other man to take care of me.  I didn't sleep with these men, but their attempt was indeed present.  Soon babysitting her friends children for keep, another old school vethe.  These ladies were hard core.   

One bright sunny day, alone with her in that tiny back alley apartment, a sketchy lookin fellow, nervous as could be, looked me over.  They sniffed some white powder up their nose.  Short black and brown dress, nicest of my few clothes, watching intently.  She looked over at me, asked “wanna try it”?  Her raspy voice, and one front tooth missing, she laughed.  But I said no thanks, she said “it’s cool just try a little”.  Hesitantly I said, “ok”.  A small white line of speed, hmmm, just a little won't hurt me. 

I’m 14 years old.  But looked more like a 17 year old girl. Often coyly claiming to be 17, I had to be apart of the moments charming derangement.  So I took the mirror and sucked it up my nose.  A burning scent and taste of disgust filled my throat, I ran to the bathroom holding my face in my hands, and threw up in the sink.  Oh my god!  It hurts and tastes disgusting!  

Washed my mouth and face, dried my face on the towel and walked back out to the tiny living room.  It was horrible, but thankfully never entered my system. Thank God It never entered my system.  

A few hours later, the man pacing back and forth convinced the cops were coming, me half believing him, understood the effects of this drug.  They never came.    

The freedom days were cool and it was nice not being at home.  Away from the screaming, fear and constant cleaning of what I deemed slavery levels.  I sat happily at a kick back "house party", and a good lookin guy was checkin me out.  This handsome young man was enamored with my low cut blouse though, and we began a connection of necessity and desire.  He was in school, had a car, loving parents and demonstrated a kindness apart from the other guys.  So we began to talk, he took me on a "pick up run" along with his "cute" friend who kindly offered to let me sit on his lap in the car.  That's how I knew not to choose him regardless of his cute face, and sat in the middle of them both.  

We spent the next few weeks together, and numerous nights in his garage fashioned into a half bedroom.  But it was short lived, his dad yelled at him one day, that my being there so often was enough, and I needed to go home.  I lay embarrassed in his room on the bed.  Wanting to cry, little did he know I simply couldn't go home.  

Off I went on a greyhound bus, the lady sent me to live with her daughter and mother eleven hours away.  She was a teen mom on welfare, and had a place of her own, and grandma was just a bystander, providing no form of parental presence or structure.

She encouraged me to get pregnant so I too could get on welfare and have my own place.  But it didn't happen.  Something else happened.  My wise and loving grown male cousin somehow found me, and begged me to come home, he said everyone thought I ran away.  Quickly explaining I was kicked out, either way it didn't matter, my stay was weighing strong on us all, she was only trying to help me but my burden had become much too much and it was time to go home.  

He purchased my greyhound ticket back, in tears I left that place knowing it was for the best.  I thanked her and her grandma, and left never again to return.

My return home proved nothing had changed.  What changed was me, now I was more knowledgeable in what a man wanted from me.  I re-connected with the young man I'd met before my departure.  And we began a relationship.  It wasn't love, it was convenience and desire.  I was now in seventh grade, and he was a college student at ITT Tech and had a car he shared with his sister.  Which was big stuff to us "broken" having nothing people.  

Returning to Junior High school for a short time, I managed to graduate eighth grade.  But the abuse continued and a violent fight ensued between mom and my older sister.  We were out the door, we weren't gonna stay with her anymore!  

We bolted running out the door like two mice from a cat filled house.  Her bare footed, barely dressed.  Me fully dressed.  We ran to the nearest phone booth.  I gave her my socks and we called her boyfriend, a close friend of my now boyfriend from the party house.  He rolled up in his burgundy Regal, thumpin loud music as always.  She’d go live with him and his family, and I’d go live with my boyfriend and his family too.  

Until mom found us and once again and we'd be forced to come back.  I refused and my uncle agreed to allow me to come live with him for my high school years.  I started to like boys and make friends again, attempted to break up with my "older" boyfriend but he was distraught, so I felt bad and continued with him.  Then just as the exciting news of making it through in the second cut of cheer leader try outs came, and three months into ninth grade, we found out I was pregnant.    I was so afraid to tell my uncle, but he hugged me, as we both cried and accepted the news.

Boyfriend was visiting family in Mexico and quite happy when I told him.  Though abortion was presented as an option, he assured me it was my choice.  My aunt begged me to go through with it, but I knew not to take that route. 

Chapter 2 - My two Angels 

Many nights of long thinking and acceptance came and went.  Moving back to live with my boyfriends family, they took me in because they loved their son and now I'd be their only son's first child's mother.  A grateful form of love began to form within me, a love from appreciation and desperation came into being.  My sister was also pregnant now and moved back in with her boyfriends family.  Her pregnancy only a month and a half in front of me.  Age 16 and still so unknowing, life was more calm and at peace from where we'd been however.  She developed an interest in learning to parent, and read many magazines, but I didn't care for reading so much.  I was still too young and dumb to care enough for preparing myself fully for what was about to come.  And my lack of preparation steps created a whole bizarre scene of sadness, confusion and what I deem "non coincidence". 

My blue jean Winnie the pooh hospital bag filled with necessities for my soon to be born baby, contained nothing for me.  

Laying in the back room we rented separate from the house, watching TV as always, when a slight click of a type of sensation occurred from below my belly, water started pouring out.  I thought to myself, "did I just pee", what the hay?  Why won't it stop! Oh my God!  It's my water, oh my God the baby's coming!  Panic took hold!  I quickly walked into the dark house where no one was home except my sisters boyfriend and his dad, but they were both on grave yard shift and we didn't want to disturb their sleeping.  My boyfriend was at work and we didn't know what to do.  We sat thinking in the living room.

Fear of painful contractions creeping in, oh my god, what if my baby just fell out right here and now!  

Three cars pulled up on the front lawn.  It was my boyfriends "friends".  All five walked into the house, I sat embarrassingly in my wet shorts at the kitchen table.  They explained their refusal to take me to the hospital was due to them ALL not having gas in their cars.  Shocked at such a response, we didn’t know what to say.  Theirs no arguing with people who'd rather not help you. 

So we did the only thing we could think, we called an ambulance.  A fire truck and ambulance pulled up ten minutes later.  Still too afraid and shocked at the thought that I was about to have my baby, I couldn't take that chance to go change into clean clothes.  

They walked in, looked around at everyone, checked my vitals and seen I wasn't at all close to even beginning to experience contractions, then angrily asked why we called them.  Why did we need an ambulance if my water just broke and I wasn't even experiencing contractions yet? Glaring at the young men, asked "why can't you take her to the hospital?"  Listening with disgust on their faces, the lame excuses sounded even more lame as I watched their lack of care for my condition.  But no one could do anything about it.  And the time was here. So I got on the gurney, wet bloody shorts and my blue jean Winnie the pooh bag for the baby.   

We headed to the nearest hospital.  On the way my EMT made small talk asking with sarcasm, "so, your a kid having a kid huh?"  Ashamed, I felt tears fill my eyes, my face flushed red, looking away in embarrassment and pain I said "I guess so?"  

Arriving at the hospital, the nurses seemed mad at me.  Explaining I'd now have to be delivered by a doctor I didn't know.  The head nurse jammed an iv needle in my hand, with an unmistakable dislike, I became more and more distraught.  Holding tears in as best I could.  Laying there, the small beeping of what I had to figure out was my unborn babies heart beat, stopped.  And began again a few moments later, as a nurse slowly walked in to check the monitor.  Knowing something wasn't right about this place, I needed to leave somehow.  But how.  I couldn't think of what to do.  I could barely keep from breaking down crying.  Why was this happening?  

I know they hate me because I'm a "kid having a kid", the hurt mixed with fear was overwhelming.  I'm so alone, this feels like no one cares about me.  It wasn't like this for my sister, everyone was at the hospital waiting for her, though she had a c-section.  Minutes passing by like hours. I contemplated my actions before the breaking of the water, and thought this must be God punishing me for having master bated right before.  Guilt filled my mind, and more tears began to pour because somehow I deserved this.  Suddenly I remembered a phone book in the bag, I got up slowly searching desperately for someone who'd care, there were few names and numbers listed but there was my grandpa, who always said to call him for any reason or for anything, and he'd be there for me.  

I grabbed the phone and called him.  He came quickly and guided me to get a hold of my delivery doctor, who was thankfully listed in the phone book as well.  Explaining the contractions were far enough apart, I would have to just get up and leave.  Afraid for my babies life, he calmly explained I'd be safe and the baby would too.  Grandpa can drive me to the original hospital I'd visited and planned to deliver my baby at, and things would be okay.  

Now, we just needed to get there.  

When I informed the head nurse of my decision she became visibly angry and harshly mean, saying if my baby died it would be my fault.  But I stayed calm and trusted what my doctor explained.  She took her time in bringing the papers for me to sign, then proceeded to yank the heart monitor out from inside me, located on the softest part of the top of my babies head.  

I got up and went into the bathroom to adorn my bloody wet shorts once again.   

A kind nurse brought a wheel chair for my cold embarrassed self, she wheeled me to the front desk, and as I approached the head nurse looked at me with disgust and anger saying, "NOO no, she's discharging herself, she has to walk out of here on her own, she's no longer our responsibility".  My grandpa lost it!  Even the kind nurse pushing the wheel chair expressed a disturbed and shocked facial expression from such mistreatment, but had to heed her instruction and held the chair as I got up.  Grandpa, quietly and angrily swept his arm over the counter knocking all the advertisements and papers to the floor.  Saying "let's go".  He was pissed but kept control.

As we walked to the car my boyfriend pulled up, happy as could be, having no idea what we just went through.  We instructed him to follow us to the hospital and I rode with grandpa because his car was newer and safer for the trip.  Relieved but nervous at the fact my baby might die on the way, we drove carefully.  Suddenly flashing lights from behind us, it was police and my boyfriend being pulled over.  My heart sank, I braced myself saying "nooooo".  

Grandpa pulled up to the side of the cop to explain we were on our way to the hospital, he hesitantly looked down noticing my wet shorts, and shook his head in understanding. The wet shorts saved us!  He knew we were telling the truth because of them.  We pulled off and proceeded to the hospital fifteen minutes away.

Arriving, the nurses were like kind hearted caring angels.  Calm, loving and polite.  A big relief swept over me as I sat down in the wheel chair.  Though the pain of contractions began a short while later.  A natural birth commenced and my first daughter was born, my first angel from God was here at last.  Healthy new and mine.  I cried as they wheeled me by a window to see a nurse washing off her little body. A living breathing being came out of my body!  

That baby behind the window was her.  I gazed at her in tears, and felt a sense of gratitude from having her, gratitude for her father taking care of me, gratitude for a sense of knowing I'll never again be alone.  Black hair, white pale skin, slanted eyes and beautiful little red baby lips.  Her cone head scared me for a moment, but the nurse said it was natural and would round out to a normal shape in a day or two.  She was my little Eskimo,  and I called her my mommamooshka.  

Being a teen mother was new and brought many fulfilling and happy experiences to my youthful life.   Living in that small room behind the house with my sister in the front house had benefits.  She had a month and a half experience on me and we kept each other company.  Helping each other as best we could.  Unknowing in much but growing into young ladies with children.   A year later we moved out to rent a studio apartment on my uncle's property in Riverside California. 

Now 18 I began to work, and experience life and the thrill of other men wanting me again.  Blind and young, though selfish and dumb would best describe my mentality.  I trampled our relationship for the want of experiencing a "young" life again, basically so I could feel the thrill of being wanted by other boys again.  Other men who wouldn't love or truly care for me one bit, who would only throw me away when done, as so many others had already proven to do, but I didn't or somehow couldn't, believe this.  I had to go through it again and again.  I had to learn the hard way.  So I started fights, and created a way out. 

Moved back in with mom, who was now single living with my youngest sister.  She was happy to have my cute, funny little baby come live with them.  I began attending college for certification as an Administrative Assistant.  Partying, clubbing and living a "young life", had it's flare of excitement, but at the same time I most un-coincidentally ran into an old boyfriend from the sixth grade.  He was Mr. Tall dark and handsome.  And I was Mrs. Available.  The flame rekindled but the connection was tremendously doomed from the start because once again, it was a connection of necessity and convenience, not love (pure and complete) because I was not pure or complete. He was going through his own growing pains, and now I was growing into an even deeper pit of confusion, desperation and unhappy once again, in need of departing from moms place, having no where to go, I sent my daughter to live with her dad for a short time.  I needed to get it together but had no idea this was surely the result of my previous selfish acts.   

Unstable and unable to care for myself and my daughter, I was staying with friends, back and forth from house to house.  Hesitantly, my new boyfriends family took us both in, and we began to grow as part of their family.  I learned so many basic things I'd lacked from my own child hood up-bringing, including brushing my teeth everyday.  Though this was just a small example of what I missed out on in raising myself as a child, then having a child as a child.  

Our relationship grew, however obviously unhealthy as fights and mistrust was our foundation.  I received a most wonderful gift, my second daughter, my second angel from God.  This pregnancy and delivery had its own set of hardship for me to bare.  Traveling eight hours in a car to again live with my mom in a new city, realizing she was always there to rescue me.  Gratitude filled my soul, but sadness from the reasons behind my departure gripped me deeply.  I hid my pain nicely however.  Or so I thought.  

My sister now lived with her also due to her own set of troubles.  Mom had a new husband and brand new baby of her own, along with my now teen aged little sister.  Still she brought all 7 of us in, having no where else to go.  Things were hectic and frightening for us both now. In this time mom thoroughly encouraged me to read a book from recognizing my addiction and suffering.  "Woman thou art loosed" by T. D Jakes.  I recognized the teachings of Jesus Christ in it, and felt a sense of knowing that the suffering I'd been experiencing was due to MY own unknowing of who I was and WHY I had become this way.  It was a seed planted within me, but needed to be watered in order to grow.

The bright sunny days of walking to Pic-N-Save to shop for the babes was now completely gone.  Eight months pregnant preeclampsia and ankles the size of elephant stumps was my beautiful condition.  A full house indeed, my big pregnant self and my first angel have no room or space of our own, but we got through.  

After a flat tire on the freeway going to the hospital.  My pregnancy was to be induced, this time she'd be cut from my belly.  No loving supportive family close by except mom, my sister and all the children at home.  No loving boyfriend to hold my hand through this one, heart break and sorrow beckoned tears to overtake me at every given moment.  But "we'll be fine without him", was my new attitude.  Though the urge to run back plagued my mind at every moment, internal tortures creating a new side of me I'd yet to realize I was adorning like a black rock on my sleeve.  An addiction had taken me over, and I didn't even know it.  An addiction to making someone who didn't want me anymore, want me again.

Exhausted from pushing, here we were me and my big sister, she held my hand.  She was the one to tell them I could still feel the pinch on my stomach right before they almost sliced into me.  The dosage upped in my IV, I lay there ready, waiting, saddened for not being able to have this one naturally.  It'd be a whole year before I could lose THIS fat, because now their cutting into my muscle!  Damn it, I'm gonna have to be a cow for a long freaking time! 

It's done, she was pulled out screaming into reality.  They said "wow, she's got a lot of hair".  But I was relieved it was over, she was healthy, but my body was exhausted and I'm afraid I'll die if I close my eyes, I fought my body's want for sleep.  Oh my God what If I'm dying, they'll have no mother, NO!!!

I heard the nurse complaining to another nurse about some mistreatment I'd been given from the doctors.  So many conversations. I was awake, but my body sleeping.  This was weird.  But she was here, my new baby girl.  

Still a girl myself though now having two children, I had so much growing to do.  I remember wondering why Gwen Stefani kept calling herself a "girl" in her songs being almost 40 years old, then I became a woman, and knew full well age does not determine maturity, understanding, acceptance or growth.  Women are not afraid of a number symbolizing life in reality years.  They do not become offended if one calls them a woman instead of a girl.  Were thankful for the recognition as we've scratched and torn our way into this earned title.  We embrace and find a sense of peace in it, knowing were so much farther in our maturity and understandings than we were as girls.  

Being a girl has been fulfilled, it had it's "perks" but now their in the past, and being a woman is wonderful, amazing, transcending all wrapped up in truth, life and experience.

Desperately searching to find "self help", in the self help section of my favorite book store, Borders.  A place or safe haven of relaxation for my time of learning to understand WHY I was so desperately pathetic.  Suffering as I did, drudging I tirelessly sought to find relief of such a horrific occurrence, this uncontrollable crying and begging for someone to love me, trying and trying to be "better" in some way, was excruciating.  Recognizing my ticket out of self loathing, a ticket out from this self abuse hell hole created by my choices and lack of awareness.  Soon feeling a sense of awareness bloom like a beautiful flower of overflowing waters in deserts of self disdain.

During this time however, I maintained my belief in God, and still had the knowing to pray to Jesus, for any reason.  Though these prayers were always answered I hadn't paid attention to that fact.

Focus shifted, and the new section I often floated off to was quite tricky as I'd soon find out.  These new books explained gently and beautifully that what I'd been a participant of in regard to God and Jesus, was nothing more than "Dogma" of religion and their was so much more knowledge to learn in the world.  I'd trusted those teachings from Sunday school, and believed that he loved and died for me.  But that was way too simple. How little I truly understood or knew.  Oh how much I'd yet to truly understand.

Chapter 3 - The Change

By 22, I'd finally managed to get it "all" together.  Maintaining an office position at a fairly "good" company, which I ended up working at for 7 years.  This company is where I became a woman, where I walked away from God, and where I realized all of who I am today.  An infallible woman of God, living inside a fallible body of earth.  I experienced my high school maturation at a company with women I'm grateful were kind, loving and understanding during the whole process.  Always there to talk to me, dealing with my ups and downs, but allowing me space to grow on my own.  This company was also where I met the man who presented a very life changing series of questions regarding my beliefs.  Though this man proved to be a liar from the beginning, I often lied to myself to cushion the bed of broken glass I enjoyed cutting myself laying on.

I hadn't attained my college certificate however, failed by one class.  Got into a car accident on the last day of testing and it just wasn't going to happen.  Hadn't received my GED either, failed by one point, math was my enemy.  Though these were absolutely required I made it into this company.  I comforted myself by knowing I'd attended college before my graduating class, after having dropped out in the ninth grade to have my first babe.  

And now It was all happening so quickly.  An apartment of our own was in the process, finally a real apartment of our own. Though we had a small apartment short lived while pregnant with angel two, we needed someone to live with us and help pay rent, and things just didn't work out there.  It was a dark evening when I went to visit our hopeful apartment with a pool, located close to the beach, still the area was a bit on the "dangerous" side, but no matter. The manager was a German lady with a heavy accent, very kind and gentle.  

Days passed so slowly waiting for our approval.  Then a miracle occurred, she called me a few days later, she sounded more excited than me and screamed "your approved!"  That made me feel so welcome and even more excited to move in.  She had truly felt my single mother pain.  We began moving in that very day, then walked up to the door, and noticed our apartment was door #7.  No coincidences.  This was finally our own apartment.  All ours.  And we seen the beautiful gratitude in that simple fact.

Not one piece of furniture, a few blankets and couple bags of clothes, but this was our own place to call home.

In this wonderful space of my own is where I became aware of the spiritual releases in flowing gently with the effects of THC.  Though my first experience with it was tremendously scary, and I always ended up contemplated killing myself from the fear of my mind slowing WAAYYY down.  During my first frightful experience with it, I was laying in a room filled with teenagers giggling at the sight of me as I lay praying so desperately to God to make it go away. 

14 and beyond naive, my sister already experiencing so many new "fun" things.  I was always too scared to try, but she said it was okay and it'd be fun.  Starting by inhaling and after much trying couldn't experience any kind of a change that she described.  I sucked the smoke down, I tried swallowing it, but no, still nothing at all.  Then a few homies showed up, and said "try this".  So I did.  

That was it.  Hit me like a ton of bricks.  

It felt like my body separated from my being, and I fell back on the bed crying heavily.  The ceiling moved farther and farther away, falling into myself like ascending into a deep dark hole, the darkness was enclosing.  

My boyfriend, my first daughters father, looked down at me, consolingly asked "what's wrong".  But I couldn't speak, I couldn't think, I didn't even know what was happening.  I was so unprepared.  The sorrow was uncontrollable.  The change was beginning and I had no idea how to understand it.  It didn't matter who was around, who was watching, I couldn't control this reaction.  

Terror gripped my mind, what was happening?  Where am I?  Who am I?  

I'd begin to describe what I was feeling to my sister and she became afraid too, so she left me alone, attempting to stay sane watching cartoons.  Terror gripped my every thought, and I seemed to be apart from me, separate from who I was, somehow.  I tried to watch cartoons too, and oh my God, they were completely amazing!!  

The colors were vivid, life was all so wonderful and everything seemed impossibly happy.  But every so often, like waves washing over me, that sense of my mind and body being out of my own control would return, slowly panic and fear returning.  Just the thought of the sensation that I needed to go pee terrified me, because, what if I didn't know what to do, what if I peed on myself right there in front of everyone?   I begged God to make it go away over and over again, promising I'd never ever do it again.  Somehow I managed to communicate to my boyfriend my need to go pee, then he took me for a walk outside, the trees were amazing and so alive.  The air was sublime, the street seemed so long, wide and far away, it was huge to my blood shot eyes, my Chinese eyes.  Finally I started to feel me come back "into me".  At last it was over, and my mind was mine again.  

I was NEVER going to do that crap again.

Fast forward a few years later, having watched everyone become relaxed and laughing, having a good ol time. I sat on the front porch of that same house with my sister and her friend, them smoking and me the loser who couldn't "handle it", my eyes wanted to join them.  My body wanted to laugh and experience what they were describing as a cool calm feeling. And I didn't want to be such a weak punk ass.  And maybe that bad experience was due to those guys who gave it to me the first time.  Maybe they'd put something in it, others saying it was most likely "angel dust", whatever that was.  

I decided to jump.  I decided to break my promise to God.  

I took a hit of their joint.  

Besides I knew my sister would take care of me if I got too scared again.  And if God took care of me the last time why wouldn't he take care of me again, but behind all those thoughts, I still had the fear of what I was doing being bad, and somehow against God but I was doing it knowing it was bad.

As I sat there with them, the memory of a scene from the movie "Planet of The Apes" popped into my head, and I found myself jumping around, enacting the mating scene of two of the monkeys swinging from the chandelier.  My sister and her friend laughed for a minute, then quickly became annoyed, and looked at me like I was an idiot.  It was too late, the head change began, and now the fear began too.  I didn't know what to do, the judgement I felt from them was so intense I just wanted to go away.  

So I went in the house and my thoughts terrified the living daylights out of me.  But this time I didn't have thoughts of getting a knife and ending my life, because I was probably losing my mind and would just end up in a mental ward.  I sat there and focused as hard as I could on just waiting for the time to pass so it would go away.  I must have looked like a crazy person!  But it did go away.  Eventually.  Proving to be an unpleasant experience yet again.  So I swore not to do it again.

And I didn't.  

Until I met someone who was a "professional" smoker, "an OG toker".  One of much experience in the field of highology, amongst many other experienced substances. Him being new to me and having patience, offered me the ability to "learn" to smoke.  How to stay calm and lose all fear, gaining trust in knowing I'll be okay, and it'll eventually go away.  Which eventually was the down side to the upside of the climb.  The change was explained so beautifully, and I began to feel it so beautifully like walking on blue, pink and yellow fluffy clouds of weightlessness.  

The way I understood it, this was some sort of mental strength to be handled, and not a release of my own control to some external force outside of me.  I was NOT going to be of a weak mind.  I refused to be weak minded.  My new goal was to learn how to get to that place of enjoyment.   

The process of learning to flow with it, took many sessions, and often ended with me in bed asking over and over again "are you sure its gonna go away"?  But he'd just pet my hair gently, and assure me it was okay, I was safe, and it was going to go away.  One thing he said stayed with me strongly, was "enjoy it, enjoy the ride, it wont always be this way and once you've experienced this effect more often, it'll never be this strong again".  So I did, I slowly brought myself into having very small portions, and even smoking by myself.  Understanding that I should enjoy it, and not be afraid of it.  

Was I going to let fear drive me, or was I going to trust in my internal guidance?  The biggest fear being "what if I lose my mind and hurt my own children", but somehow I knew this was a lie, and this plant couldn't be bad, it was too calming to make anyone do something bad.  It was man made things like acid and chemicals that made people do crazy stuff like running down the street naked, or hurting other people.  Finally I could see the benefits.  

I began to enjoy it.  To talk and flow with conversations, like a deep knowing released from inside me, so deep I watched this man try not to be amazed at "my" explanation of many things concerning the universe, God, reality and truth.  To this day I can't recall all of what was said.  

Music was being created now, and when I'd sing it was the most enjoyable calm feeling of serene bliss ever experienced in my life, the fear was completely gone, replaced by joy and excitement for the next session. I'd finally recognized the fear as it was, an inhibitor, and began to stare it in the face with trust, trust in goodness, in the goodness of love that I knew was in me.  I'd conquered fear.  My mind felt stronger.  My intellect felt stronger.  I actually felt smarter somehow.  

I began a steady regimen of creating and communicating after strengthening my ability to handle this powerful gift and was able to create freely with a steady and wondrous flow.  Many songs were released, not written by me.  Art flowed freely from my hand, it wasn't me drawing.  And life became so much brighter.  Now understanding why the government called it a "drug" and spoke against it's usage being that it was indeed a gift of the most releasing freedom ever experienced.  

It was a gift from God.  And of course, because God created it!  Not man. 

But this new found understanding took a tricky turn when he began to speak to me regarding his views of disbelief in God, Jesus and The Bible.  Explaining slowly, "you only believe because you've been raised to do so". 

And slowly, I walked away from all I'd learned of God as a child.  

This doubt blew a hole so big in the very foundation of my belief by misunderstanding one simple fact,  I hadn't really known if what I believed was true.  I was defending a belief because it was engraved in my foundation of personal truth from childhood up to that time. And that was the true reason I was defending it.  

I never truly read the book the whole system of belief formed it's very foundations on.  I'd never even read a chapter of that book.  Our church had always pointed out scripture by scripture, relating them to life and the message of the time.  Me feeling each word as truth, I trusted them to be true.   Sometimes I'd even go to church and feel like that particular message of the day was directed specifically for me and what I was going through.  I was a strong believer, I raised my hands in church when we sang and worshiped.  I cried and felt the pain upon me as I felt the words of those beautiful songs.  Even as a child.  I loved Jesus!  My grandma bought us children's christian music, Charity Church Mouse and Psalty the Song Book. We loved hearing them and they felt so loving and comforting as a child.   We had children's bibles and often read them with her. 

Yet, now here was this man whom I'd met on Halloween day.  Him dressing for the holiday as "Lucifer", questioning all that I thought I'd felt all that time.  Though not connected the connection of his attire to this questioning until much later.  I was here now questioning, was it all a lie?  Was I just going along with all the other people because they were crying and raising their hands?  Did Jesus really live or were all the writings in the bible just stories?

I watched a very convincing "documentary" called Zeitgeist.  As well, many numerous documentaries, books, Internet sites, YouTube videos and the like leading me to something called "The Venus Project".  I had found the truth!  I had finally found the people who were working together to help everyone!  And I was in it man, boy oh boy I was beyond gun-ho about it.  I was gonna help change the world for the better!  

I walked away.  I stopped praying.  Stopped believing.  Stopped living. And started dying.  But didn't see my slow decay till after a few years of suicidal thoughts and depression over rode my mind.  

The farther into finding "knowledge of this world" I dived into with this man, the worse and worse I became mentally, emotionally and as a person over all.  The joy I'd experienced from that gift from God, now became an unhealthy addiction, because I grew dependent on it, no longer did I want to flow with it for the calm waves of happiness it brought me, I needed it to keep me from losing my mind because I developed a burning need to KNOW what "the truth" really was.  And now knowing God wasn't real, I had to learn EVERYTHING from the very beginning. 

Like almost reaching the end of a life long maze, only to realize I made ONE wrong turn and now had to start all over again.

My new focus was, why are so many people suffering horrific tragedies on this planet, why are so many lost to slavery and pestilence and starvation in this world?  Why did the American government kill so many of their own people in the 9/11 bombings?  Having viewed extensive proof that it was indeed our own government that plotted out and followed through with such a dastardly act.  Why were we under the power of these people, why couldn't we just create a new system? Begin and organize a move into this new system, which would be better for the health and well being of the earth along with all its inhabitants.  

As well my focus had shifted to this man.  A very unhealthy focus indeed.  Con-vinced marriage was a sham and we could be together without marriage, sad loneliness viciously disassembled me.  

That old addiction to wanting someone who doesn't want me, kicked back in, but this time it was burning, searing, and destroying my very soul.  During great moments of weeping and crying from misunderstanding and desolation of mind and body, feeling rejected and unwanted, I'd cry out to God begging, help me stop loving this man because it hurts so much.  I don't have the strength to get away from him.  This was a strong hold indeed.  No matter what I did, the suffering worsening and the fun was ending, the pain becoming more intense.  I couldn't focus enough to be a decent mother, mustering strength through out as I did, I now know it was my very daughters, my angels who pulled me through.  But now they both went off to live with their fathers for a year, because the offer presented it self and I jumped at it, thinking I had something so much more important to figure out, and now I'd have the time I needed to focus on my music career.  Though without these girls being in my life at all, I would have given myself over completely.  Or So I think.  Only God knows.

Chapter 4 - The Truth  

Solidly believing all religion to be a lie from the rulers of religion, my truths all thrown down like a baby to the ground, my understandings continuously withered.  But I knew I'd never convince grandma that God wasn't real, and it was all a lie created by those in power to keep us down.  Not wanting to leave her to suffer in this lie, to believe along with all the other lost simple minded people of this world.  I needed to find a way to absolutely state the truth to her, and get her into life, get her out of ancient lies. 

Besides that book proved to have a great many mistranslations and a whole plethora of misinterpretations.  If the book could be disproved, then God and all in connection to God, including the teachings of Jesus Christ, would be doubt able as well. Because the whole foundation of these teachings were based on THAT book.  "Jesus loves me this I know, for the Bible... tells me so".  So if the bible was a lie, then so was Jesus.

No matter what I said, no matter how I reasoned, she was far too convinced of Jesus being her savior, having had experiences of not being able to read, then asking Jesus to show her only to watch the letters lift off the page in amazement.  She believed her eyes, but what if it was just a hallucination?  That hallucination changed her life for the better, how can I argue with that.  She wouldn't listen to one shred of a word against her Jesus for one second.  She was like a stone.  And who she was as a person, loving and kind, brought me to realize I might just be the wrong one here. As well, how could it be that all the loving people I knew who believed in Jesus were the wrong ones?  When the ones going against them were proving more and more to be dark and cruel. 

Still I digressed, telling everyone I could they simply HAD to view a documentary called Zeitgeist, and all our problems would be solved.  These people truly love us and want to create a better place for us all.  I even went so far as to invest my own hard earned money into creating flyer's stating these "facts", and was just about to take my own precious time to distribute them when something happened.  

An evidence undoubtedly supporting the other people who still believed in Jesus, and argued against these people.  Making their own videos of reason to support their stance.  Their stand being that Jesus was coming back, and these people of The Venus Project were actually of a Satanist Occult, hidden deep within another cult by the name of The Free Masons.

I seen a picture of the creator of The Venus Project and his assistant, with the Queen of England and all the other rich "elite" of this world, posing happily together like a group of friends do.  The people behind this project are being funded by the very powers who control the hypocrisy of all backward world governmental systems?  

Whom turn out to be the Queen and The Vatican!  This means the whole group is lying!  And yet another video of the assistant LYING nervously to explain the picture. It was too late, I'd seen it with my own eyes and now I knew their liars.  Oh my God, their all liars.  

This "new" world system is just another form of deception for keeping the rich, rich, and the poor, poor.   For maintaining these monarch rulers in power.

I tossed ALL the color printed flyer's in the trash and went about my laundry.  And informed as many as I could about my findings of truth.  Walking, no running away from that black deception quickly.  Continuing my search for truth, now learning about the golden mean, ancient Egyptians, aliens, Atlantis, the hollow earth theory, the palladians,  NASA, David Icke, WAR and so much more, but the fear was getting heavy, unbearable.  The deeper I got, the more I began to lose my mind.   How could all this be, were all doomed and theirs NO way out, and what is my mind, is it mine?  I don't know what to believe anymore.  I don't know how to help all these videos of children I keep stumbling on.  Weeping and begging wanting to help, to be able to DO something for them.  Their dying in the streets, being blown up by our own American soldiers!!  What could I do?  

More importantly, how could I help them If I cant even help myself?  How can I help them when I cant even stay sane enough to figure out who the liars are?  I was going down and I knew It.

On my last leg, so to say, I turned back to figure out God, and The Bible.  Perhaps everyone in the world believing in them weren't the wrong ones.  Allowing the possibility of this being the truth somehow, I viewed a documentary supporting The Bible, revealing the writings of the Bible were actually historical documents from their time, and that the man Jesus Christ actually WAS a real man who walked this planet, did all those amazing things and said all those incomprehensible words to so many people, changing their lives for EVER.  

It'd be unintelligent of me to dismiss something of such importance without having actually read the book it was all based on.  So I began the MOST important part of this burning torturing search, now beat broken and so much more confused than I'd ever before experienced, grandma said to start with the book of John, and I did.  

Later feeling an urge to visit my old childhood church again I went to talk with the pastor about all I'd come to find, but he didn't even remember me and behaved as though his "function" was so much more important than helping me understand.  The ladies singing on stage all dressed in skin tight clothing and platform heels, trying to be sexy.  This couldn't be the way.  This isn't how God wants me to be.  I guess I'm on my own because even these people don't truly read and follow the teachings of The Bible.  

Laid off, with more free time on my hands to enjoy, I POURED over the book, held it close, fell in LOVE with it.  It was my friend, my companion. Oh My GOD how come everyone in the world hadn't read this book?  Being filled with so many true stories of great and amazing men, and the power I felt from it brought me to tears on so many occasions.  This book was "The Word of God", the two edged sword against all powers and principalities, my savior, my protection from the strange occurrences I'd now started to experience.  One night my bed shook and I felt strange presences around me constantly.  But the book comforted me so I slept with it.  Took it everywhere I went, even into stores.  I was not afraid to be looked at as a religious nut, shoot I proudly called myself a "Jesus Freak".  

I was proud to be a "child of God", and was carrying the word of God that they'd someday see and thank me for having such courage to show them, was the "right" way.

I had to show and tell everyone to study this book not just read it, which was so much more than just a book.  And I did.  All my loving friends, all my family, everyone I had told I was an atheist before hand, admitting my wrong and that I'd now found the truth.   And it was sweet in my mouth.

I loved the men who gave their lives sharing those writings, so very much and looked forward to someday meeting them in heaven. They were Mighty and great.  But not one was greater than the man Jesus Christ, they all agreed. 

  

But I had to separate myself from so many people, judging I ended up hurting my sister in the process.  Which rendered me living with my mom again, because she too read and studied to understood its power.  She offered to help us, and this was unquestionable as the move was too strategically needed to be denied.  This had to be a good move, especially to get away from my unhealthy attachment to this man, who once I returned to God, wanted absolutely Nothing to do with the "New" me.  I left and it would be for the best, because I now know and trust walk with God.

But my sister didn't or wouldn't talk to me, my big sister who went through so much with me as a child, whom I protected on so many occasions.  I might never again see my niece and nephews.  Never be able to hang out and party with my uncles now either because I was in the "right" and they were wrong.  They lived in "sin" and the Bible clearly spoke against this.

Oh how I suffered in confusion and tears.  I miss them all so much.  Maybe someday they'll forgive me for what I did, I was only trying to help her and the children, but she wasn't having anyone attempting to instill fear into her children, and somehow I knew I was wrong upon further reflection of the situation.  So I suffered alone, not able to talk to her about my addiction, no one to confide in about my mom whom I now lived with again, and though better in many ways, still the same in many ways.  

I'm so all... alone.  I began to document my tortures.

(Diary Attachment)

**  =  last man I was addicted to.

__ =  anonymous family member.

A1 =  first angel.

A2 =  second angel.

Day 1 August 23, 2011

This is going to be day one of knowing I will never again be with ** again, never again to feed a want to be with him, nor a care for what he is doing.  I cried when he said he's being "intimate" with someone, because I didn't expect to hear that as much as he didn't expect to hear me ask in such a "bold" way, as he put it.  I'm a little sad because I wanted to marry him and could even envision us being together for the rest of our lives, I didn't care that he's an alcoholic because it's controlled and peaceful, nor did I care that he's not some handsome guy with big muscles, I loved that he was sweet, kind, helpful, understanding and more than anything, he seemed to really be good with the girls, I had a few scary thoughts that he might be sometimes too close or open with A2, because of the inappropriate passing of the cherry pit from her lips to his, that is still awkward and who knows what might have happened with that.  A1 said she never liked him anyway, and I know I couldn't be with him for so many reasons especially his love for porn, and having images of females around his house that were skinny and looking nothing like me, even when he knew I had a bit of an image problem with my weight, he wasn't considerate to that.  But these are just a few reasons I know this has happened for the best.  I feel a little wondrous about where my life is going because  -

My mom just came to the door and we got into a convo about codependency, she brought me tea, that was sweet.  She wants to start going  and visiting hospitals to talk to alcoholics about her story, then I realized it would be really good if I brought my guitar and free styled for the patients too, and it's such an exciting plan we will be putting together to volunteer our time, because this is what I've been waiting to do, use this time to help others in some way, and I just couldn't figure out how or where but it all makes sense now, this is where I can give my cd's to people who would appreciate and be accepting without an inclination to be first judging and expectant.

This feels so right, I feel now life has a true purpose and this will be the way for me to do God's will, not mine.

Day 2 August 24, 2011

I got good feed back from many men about wanting a true woman of God, but yet I still tried talking to the one who already proved to me he isn't interested by ignoring me LOL soo embarrassing.  I felt like a nut but I couldn't let myself keep getting more into wanting him, knowing his excuse for not talking to me on the phone was an absurd thing just like **'s reasons for lying to me about his girlfriend, and they have this same "I don't care" attitude when confronted, and I wonder what it is about me that makes me keep being attracted to these types of men, I really felt rejected when this other guy who seemed to really be a man of God didn't pursue a deeper conversation with me. I'm feeling more and more that I'll end up alone until I die, and for some reason I feel that might just be soon and it kinda scares me that A1 always tells me she loves me and never wants to leave me and even used to wake up crying having a dream that I died.  I suppose it doesn't really matter because I'm here for the Lord and not myself, but it is some what concerning.  I laugh to myself when the urge to call ** comes and I logicalize a way to not care that he's seeing someone else just so I can stay with him, and I know it's a sickness of sort because he only brought many tears and pain through out our involvement, and then said it was due to my ridiculous expectations of wanting a committed relationship, God I was so blind.  I know I'm working on my patience for sure though and who knows but God, maybe the message when I speak of him (God) might turn someones life over and I'm just here to be a messenger, so by going through this, I'm fulfilling my purpose even though I feel my life isn't going anywhere at the moment, although I'm super looking forward to seeing what will happen with those musicians tomorrow.  I suppose this has really been a day by day thing and me writing this is helping because when I want to talk to ** it's usually just because I have no one to talk to, plus some guys messages help me to talk it out and not feel like I'm insane for being so centered on Jesus.

It's hard being here sometimes when my mom and __ keeps asking or taking the food I buy, and I know that this is why (sister) was so mad at her, because she's just some how oblivious to how inconsiderate she can be, yet she is giving and helpful, but I still am broke because I buy food, they eat it and then I have to tell A1 to ask her to buy her school supplies because I'm so beyond broke it's frustrating and I told her today, so when ___ tried to grab our chicken salad, I took it and put it back in the fridge and she told her no to be taking our food.

I know he's guiding me, I just need day to day patience.

Day Four August 26, 2011

I feel like a faker, faking to be okay, not hurt or upset wanting to talk to ** and just see if he loves me, the more I talk to other men the more I see that their mostly the same, judgmental, non understanding and so separate from me, I can't even say from us as woman because in those moments I don't feel human or a woman for that matter.  I know it's me, because theirs plenty of men I feel no attraction to that would be understanding and acceptance of however I am, but why do I feel such an unwant for them, it's so hard not to want to call ** and cry asking him if he loves me and knowing if he does he'll say he only slept with her because he's a man but that's also why he was with me, because of how I look, he wanted my outside not to reside with my inside, he only tolerated me for my outer shell, for what he enjoyed about who I am, he always said I was funny and sweet but it just feels like it wasn't enough for him to want to really be with me, he wanted me to settle for not getting married saying it's all about money and taxes, but that's because it was exactly what it is to him, because he doesn't hold God as his center and foundation of moral.  

I called him and he said he didn't say he is having sex with someone else, but I know he did, I said to him "are you seeing anyone", not in those exact words but around them, and he said that was a bold question and didn't want to answer it, then I said okay I'll take that as a yes, and he said I don't want to talk about who I'm being intimate with and I know for sure I heard him say the word intimate.  It hurt so bad I just said I was happy for him and hoped everything goes well for him, and then I said take care, he didn't try to say no, lets talk about it, no, I'm not seeing anyone, he just said okay bye.  Like he didn't really care if we were talking or not, like he almost always was.  But I do remember the times he wasn't that way when he did want to talk to me, and we talked for hours and would hang up and I'd call him again and again to tell him I loved him.  

But so many times I wanted to stop loving him or at least just being in love with him, and those were the times I felt like my stomach felt a shot of burning when he would hurt me, but the more I see, the more I know I was hurting myself by wanting instead of enjoying, wanting it all or just more.  I don't know what to think because now I have a picture of this man who I only messaged on chat for about an hour, named (unimportant), and for some reason he sounded like he was just like me, but when I thought it over I didn't want to fall into another unhealthy attachment and so I messaged that I couldn't talk to him but now I feel like an idiot because I look like one of those crazy chicks and he just ignores me like I'm an idiot, I feel like closing my account and focusing on being able to be alone, but my fear and loneliness come and tell me if I get too comfortable being alone, I might just stay that way, and so much I just want someone only one I can talk to and relate to that wants to hear what's on my mind or how I perceive things, without caring if It's up to their standards for how a woman should think, if I'm gonna be with I'm, just acceptance of me and for a little bit, I felt that from **, I thought he would love me even if I lost my mind or did something or hurt him and I miss him sooo much, I miss him hugging me and kissing me and wanting to be with me, now he doesn't care and is happy to be without me, because I laid myself on him so much, I made myself such a burden that he wanted to be freed of me.  And I know it's my fault, but I don't know how to be anyone but who I am, why can't I just find the one who will want me too, who will be okay and love me for who I am, for how I am and not regard me as some crazy chick who talks too much or says dumb things or just doesn't meet their qualifications of How "I'm" supposed to be.

I hear sadness and pain in my voice in so many of my songs

(drawing of triangle) Love, Peace and happiness 

Their all one in the same, they all come with each other, if one came along the others would follow.

It's like the point of life is to just suffer through it, and their are no winners OR losers because were all going to come and then go.  Like the pain is necessary because it is indeed apart of the presence of life.

(drawing) Me looking at me, asking "Who am I?"  Replying "I am who I am".

Some people think everyone cares to look or is concerned with them, and others think no one cares at all, those two opposite personality types  or these two different ways of thinking are just exactly that, different and therefore okay because they are what they are, no one should be trying to fix them because their not broken, even when their suffering, their learning and teaching at the same time, but we say if their inflicting pain or causing hurt in another's life, regardless if the other has a choice to stay or not, then they need to be conformed to an acceptable standard of one group of what majority calls "normal".

Day 6 August 26, 2011

After getting stood up, and managing to see the truth in how I wasn't supposed to approach meeting someone on such a level who I've yet to even speak to, and going to talk about God, faith and understanding with people in my moms meetings, I feel my being and existence being eased into the trust of powerlessness and life in Christ, as opposed to thinking that I control all situations, thereby leaving me the pathetic or not smart maker of somewhat unwanted situations.  I finally ended up speaking with a guy named (unimportant) from the site and it was a funny situation of how it came about because I'd just got finished dancing because I realized I only might have about two more months left of unemployment and I was afraid I'd have to go back to misery in work time, so I started looking for dance jobs but then looked into joining a tribal dance company to form my own show so I can start getting paid to perform, but I'll have to start by going to the classes, which I'll have to pay for, then see where it goes, I think it'll be fun but I invest not too much into it because if it should be, the Lord will make it so, so anyway.  We spoke in chat and I could tell right away he wasn't a game player or unbeliever of sorts from a few questions and how he approached me, so I told him to call me, which Id yet to do with any man as of yet, and I went to shower, go to a meeting, which a really handsome man was also at, said he'd had 7 years of sobriety and I kinda liked him but oh well, so, we talked on the phone for a couple hours about him being a musician, how we both used to be pot heads and then he sounded tired so I told him to go to sleep.  I finally didn't hang up with the feeling of disappointment or fear, I do wonder what will happen between us, knowing the Lord sees his heart, I trust he must be good for me in some way, he's a carpenter too, which is super cool, works with his hands but at this moment I'm struggling with waves of sexual urge flowing over me, and I don't know if it's because I feel so connected to him that I could definitely see us together or if I'm just too much on that site, seeing all them handsome men, but I want for it to go away  because it reminds me of those old feelings of want and desire I had for just wanting a man who loves me to touch me and be with me in all those ways.  I finally do feel okay with the ending of me and **'s unhealthy connection, kinda like taking my plug out of a damaged socket and putting it into a good one who wants me to plug into them.

I'm messaging a few other guys, not many though, and I'm starting to know I will not be meeting a true man of God that I will be attracted to from this site, I don't know what will come of (unimportant) but as the days pass, my patience and understanding grows.  I don't feel afraid to end up being alone anymore, this I now know was a nonsensical thing place in my head and is fading daily.  I'm a little worried about the unemployment, but I know I just need to call and look into it to ease my worry.

Day 10 August 30, 2011

I've decided to be a bartender and am hearing good things about how I'd be good at it, it's fun and pays good.  I'm a little scared to deal with mean drunks, afraid to mess up orders and forget things, but I'm also excited to start.  I took myself off the site because I realize that I'm not completely over **, and it's wrong to get involved with another when I'm still calling him, although I'm pretty much talking to a guy named (unimportant) who is a bartender, where I got the idea to be one, and he seems cool, I didn't end up continuing conversations with (unimportant) and have a  feeling he knew I wasn't over  ** because I mentioned him one too many times.  But I'm surprisingly not hurt by it, it feels right to have closed my acct, I like not going and looking at it wondering who I'll talk to and have a strong idea I was only there to receive the idea that I can be a bartender, who knows, I might end up helping alot of people in some way through it, as well as paying off alot of debts to sort things out.  I watched a really good documentary about the hate, in how people use the bible to degrade gays and was almost moved to tears but mostly filled with understanding and a new view of love for them.  I'm going to talk to ___ and ask him to forgive me, that I was so high and mighty and judgmental when he tried to tell me he is gay but in a playful way.  I sent a text to (unimportant) saying I'd watched it and was clear of a vision of love and it was an amazing documentary, then said sweet dreams night.  He didn't respond but perhaps it's because it would have been too late.  I'm not going to call or text though just to make sure I'm not chasing.  I've been having such urges to feel the affections of a man, and he seems sweet and it's hard not wanting to be with someone but I feel eased when I just let it be as a thought but don't continue fantasizing in it.  I'm able to see what men are good and possibly for me more and more as the days go by.  My last convo with **  was good and I felt a sense of release because he was honest and I could feel his want to be alone, like I had envisioned about three years ago on our way back to Long Beach from here in Sacramento, I'd seen him in a truth, with a receding hairline, alone and perhaps he'd gone out to visit me because it was a strange vision, but it showed me that he would end up alone.  Who knows, maybe I will too, but I'm not really worried about it like I used to be.  I'd seen the truth of me connecting with me, and I know it's more likely that I will marry a man who really loves me but is nothing like what I held in my mind as a "Godly" man.  I see a Godly man more as someone who will cherish and adore me, with true love and adoration.  I'm at peace.

I've learned to depart with love and good tithing's.  I trust in the Lord that all I need shall be met, because my Lord wants for my happiness as well as growth.  Those feelings of fear, distrust and anguish are such a distant back drop to my new found peace and sense of acceptance which is present today in my life without overwhelming myself with wants and desires that are usually in opposition to the Lords plan, which would cause me to suffer when they didn't come.  I enjoy speaking to (unimportant) but I know it's my want for a man to steadily love me and want me that fuels the connection because honestly I can tell he likes me but I'm so different from him in regard to spiritually I can't really talk to him about that and I don't know how that will work, I feel he just wants someone to talk to and text, we haven't even met and he shows no desire to do so.  I've finally released my desire for ** and am at peace with the fact that I will always love him and that's it.

Day 12 September, 2011

I know me and (unimportant) wouldn't end up with any real connection because all he wanted to do was text and our conversations were cool but not meaningful like he wanted to get to know me.  So I finally texted him and was honest but kind in my note of communications cease.  After I felt very annoyed at receiving the text from my mother about how I need to clean the living room and supervise my girls, I was openly not communicating with both of them.  So they did the "Were going out as a family " thing with ___ , and it's really showing me how very not healthy it is for me to live with them.  For me and the girls.  She act's and makes comments like offering to help me with money for gas, yet I know she would hold it in some way that I owe her and now would have to do what she wants and such.  I didn't mind going to some meetings with her at first even seen it as a way to get out and such but I just started to feel like she's so dependent and bossy, always assuming she knows more than most people because her Bible college and nursing which didn't even work out, neither one, so that doesn't even make sense.  I know I can feel like an unaccomplished failure many times  but those things are what they are and if their in Gods will, they will happen and I suppose this is what she really needs to understand.  I can feel her old ways of criticism or meanness in retaliation  and I know it's true because she talks so much stuff about everyone else, so I'm no exception.  I've just decided to get it all in order and keep the girls close since they can't be free to run around in their own house.  At this point I will distance us and for a good reason.  Perhaps it will push them together as a family more.  I don't know, that's up to the father.  I cried a little ago feeling so lonely and like theirs no one who accepts and really wants to hear me.  I know it's from my want of a loving companion, but again, I accept that time will come when the father brings it.  It's just hard to understand the reason for the suffering and than I say it must be for a reason.

Day 13 September 2, 2011

After having a very intense and visually riveting dream about how people will fuse to their choice of being, if they choose to maintain an attitude of "goodness" or one of a "devil".  People were transforming everywhere in my dream, turning into what looked like neon mixed colors of yellow orange and red plastic bouncy little devils running around and at first I was scared because it was happening like it does in the zombie movies, I told someone "You remember those zombie movies, well they were real and it's happening right now!!!".

I was scared that A2 was going to turn into one because of how her attitude of being a bit mean and selfish at times is.  I was in the apt on Redondo, on the balcony all the sudden far off in the distance it looked like a crazy phenomena of clouds with weird shapes like rushing into the future, and I ran in to get my camera, but couldn't get it into focus for the whole thing, then it was finishing and a huge smiling face was in the clouds, like a cloud man smiling.  The little devils kept coming, at us and we just had to grab them and throw them away from us, out the window even.  While I was laying here remembering it, it felt like the dream was a metaphorical glimpse of what will occur on "the Lords day", the day of the Global shift.  It's a shift of fusing us all into the character we've chosen to be alike to, because we do not have a choice in the matter of what circumstances occur but we do choose how to respond, it's all about the response.  God created the maze for us all to go through, but how we respond to the twists and turns is who we will become One with, either God, or the Devil who is a choice of opposition in any manner to the character of pure love, the spirit will either rain in us or the opposition will.  Only those of the spirit can be trusted, because only they will respond with regard to the spirit of love as their ruler and commander.  What I "want" doesn't matter, only how I respond to what I get, or what I'm given.  Trying to predict the future or worrying about what I might have to respond to in the future is an act of want.  Your the creator of your responses but not your circumstances.

Called ** twice at work after last nights talk and confessing that I want to call him all the time to tell him I love him, so he didn't answer the phone and I know his computer tells him who the missed call was from.  I felt once again like a pathetic desperate wanting fool.

Went to a meeting with my mom and this cool guy (unimportant) was totally hitting on me, my mom says she thinks he'd be a good one for me, but I felt so much confusion because I love **, and I don't really know if it's wrong in an unhealthy way.

Day who cares -   Today, 2011

I move closer to departure from hope in the love ** swears we share.  I feel like he just doesn't want to have to "deal" with me, and I can see this the more I run into situations and want to talk to him, I know it's mostly my hope for a true love of soul mate level that keeps the unreality of how we probably never have really been together nor will we ever.  I feel so upset living here with my childish and cruel mother.  She sends me a text message to go to HER AA meeting without her because their out on a family night, and I'm just a little hurt, I can't help feeling like she said that on purpose, as if to point out that we are separate from her and her family.  I needed to talk to someone but of course ** is not available.  I want to cry so bad but it just feels so pointless.  I came to the understanding that God said to be in Long suffering, and this is definitely what I'm in the middle of, being here.  Oh well then, it is what it is and I can't change it, but I can decide not to cry or feel bad about the outcome, my response will be as is.

Father, please help me to suffer well, and not focus on my wants and desires, help me to do your will and keep about myself an attitude of your character and grace.

Day ???

Feels like I'm slipping into a deep depression.  I mostly sleep, My convos with ** seemed to be exactly what I wanted to hear, but after I thought about the reality of his "offer", it is the exact same thing that made me desperate to get away from him.  He of course wants me to continue with him, and wait hoping for us to someday be married.  I feel like a sucker and idiot for wanting to talk to him.  My relationship with my mother is strained, and as much as I want for Christ to take over and free me from the frustrated feelings in dealing with her, I'm still seeing her rude inconsiderate and mean ways.  But I suppose Jesus wouldn't blind me from the truth of reality.  I feel like I'm going to just cease communications and repair my heart of acceptance with knowledge that ** will NEVER change or truly value me enough to want me as a wife, or mother of our children.  I fear I'm going to be even more miserable bar tending, so I search for other ways of working, I think ill go and apply at Glamour shots.

They say it's experience and I of course, have none in any of the fields I want to work in, I'm mostly frustrated because I want to get what I'm supposed to do, going soon or right now.  But I suppose this is what I'm in the middle of learning right now.  I just want to sleep this time away.  I'm so unaccomplished and poor of money and spirit.  I was so happy to accept back the same old offer and conditions ** has always given, and once I realized that is definitely not the answer to my goals or hopes of true love, I just want to be left alone.  But he wont leave me alone, so I'll have to ignore him and maybe he'll get the point.  Doesn't matter anyway.  I'm here, and here is where we are.

I ended up having to finally unload and share the complete and utter disdain I've been feeling towards my mother.   She was being mean and abusive to my girls, so that was the final and last straw.  I let it all out as much as I could until she got up and ran inside like always.  Not wanting to face the truth of how someone else is feeling toward her, and you know what, I'm going to be blatantly honest with me too.  I know that the reason ** is afraid to commit to me is because I've always made myself a burden on him, and right when we first started talking about having children together, I tell him he will have to support us all, and of course he isn't a dummy, he knows my intentions of not wanting to work, just like my mother, she doesn't want to support herself, and this I can not accept for myself.  I refuse to be this way.  Yes I still question myself and sanity because things are so very complicated, but I know ** is right in telling me that my life right now is a result of my own past choices.

Day ???

Here I am accepting my place, made up with my mom and feeling very good that things will be better now that truth has been established.  My mom is a beautiful and loving person, I'm very thankful she is my mom, she helps me grow and see how strength molds us with difficulty and love.  It was nice being asked out by the guy from the meeting.  I was calm and collected with responding.

I'm looking forward to the performances ill be giving and establishing as a very well rounded, Godly artist.  This is the important part in the process of becoming the vision of success my Lord has allowed me to see.  I'm closer and closer to the kingdom of heaven being established within me and I can feel it.

Day  ???

This place of residency is a constant battle of relevancy, with storms of entrapment and desperation surrounding.  They are as I am.  But who and what exactly am I?  I could say I am me, and would be telling the truth, but when I think of me, I don't know for sure if I'm really being me or if I'm just residing within whoever it is that this body is known to be.  Which is strange because  no one can really know another when they've yet to determine who they want to be or should behave alike to.  Because the quest-i-on is not "who am I" the question is who do I behave like, from what others know of someone to have been in the past.

I'd question myself for some answers, but I know she's clueless and just as lost as I am.  But were in it together, for the long haul, as they say.  My father and creator, whom sent me here has all the answers but I find it pointless to ask the questions he can't answer until certain moments in my life, else what would be the point of learning if the teacher always just gave the answers.  But in my times of great sorrow, confusion and need I ask for understanding to know why it is that I must suffer at that moment, then a calm sense of clarity comes over once the moment passes, and I know the suffering is necessary and present because me and everyone, every single individual goes through the same pains no matter how rich, spiritual or calm and collected they may seem, I just don't have the ability to see their responses, unless they live in the public eye or have a sharing of some sort.

Day  - Almost There April 18th, 2012

Just finished reading all my past writings from when I first got here, and was withdrawing from my addiction to **, and am so so very amazingly glad I took the time to read it and not just throw it away.  It showed me, and reminded me of how much I suffered and got through, all with the seeking of the Lord Jesus, who I am completely certain lives and walks with me now.  It's miraculous to think to back at how scared I was, and see where I am now, going to school for massage therapy, doing something with this life, or more, God has me doing something with my life that's amazingly rewarding and healing for people, which I feel is the Lords work.  I haven't spoken with ** in over two months.  I had texted him saying Hi, and he said "hi, it's nice hearing from you", but I know better than pursuing any kind of communication any further.  I'm excited to get back to LB and start my massage practice, and hang with cool friends, spend time with loved ones and simply enjoy life, being alive with God, walking with the ease of peace from having the truth burning like a torch inside me, passing it to others as I walk, keeping my mind on the Lord always.

Thank you Lord for being my life source, for forgiving me.  I will always belong to you.

(Diary Attachment End)

Why was I so judgmental now and why were their so many hidden messages within this book to try and comprehend?  I felt such a sense of so little time being left to figure out all these messages. I searched, and searched.  Read and read.  Prayed and begged.  Visited many different churches including a seventh day Adventist church.  Who turned out to be more lost than the christian ones.  I worked and worked yet still seen such a disconnection in my life from the understanding I KNEW should be present upon "finding the Truth".  

One night searching out the hidden meanings in the book of Revelations, I came upon a brother who screamed a loving message into my terrified ears saying, "Jesus is mad!  He's mad that you've replaced his voice with a book, he's not in a book!  He didn't die a horrific and terrible death to leave you a book, he died to leave you the spirit. And returned to live inside you and show you the way.  The spirit of truth, the comforter.  This spirit will lead you to all truth, why do you need a book to do such a thing?  A book that can be destroyed by Satan himself!   A book that was printed and bound by the very rulers of this earth!  Whyyyy!!!".  

I was moved with such a force of conviction in the truth of what he was saying, I jumped out of my bed and grabbed all the Bibles I had in the house, and tossed them in the trash without a second thought, because he was right, why would Jesus need to speak to me through a book, to tell me of himself and how he will renew me of my old person and make me new? Why does he need a book to do any of his work?  

That's what were here to do!!!!!!!!   

He claimed the Bible is THE "Mark of The Beast!!!".  

The beast being none other than the hateful rulers of this world, the combiners of the old testament, that Jesus died to fulfill, with what they so convincingly called "the new testament".  

NO it isn't!  

I'm the new testament!  

Because I... AM made new, and THIS testament of who I've become in this newness WITH JESUS CHRIST alive within me, is A NEW testament.  

As I allowed this message to sit with my spirit for a day, I became slightly frightened, "what if I was wrong, what if these men were messengers of hate, or of Satan and their whole objective was to separate me from the Most powerful book on this planet?".   

So I went to the trash and took them out again. But left them in the garage just in case this wasn't wrong.   Now I had a new search to validate, was what this brother was saying truth, how could it not be?  The message resonated with my spirit completely, without this book my spirit inside would lead me to know all I needed to know, and I've absolutely nothing to be afraid of when it comes to Jesus, because he showed the way of Love.   

Those letters of the apostles weren't written to me!  They were written to the people they were written to, and the Vatican stole those letters, and is still making BIG MONEY from them today, selling them in book stores, giving no royalties to the families of the apostles, hence they are in fact PLAGIARIZED.  As well this book is clearly a physical object to be destroyed with fire and all forms of destruction.  The infallible Word of God is indestructible.  The book is NOT holy, because NO MAN MADE THING CAN BE HOLY.  

Holy is the Lord. So the number one indicator of its falsehood is right in plain sight on the front cover.   

Damn it, how could I have missed that!  

A few days later, I went and threw them away for good, and have been relying solely on my internal truth to guide me ever since.  And I must say (or type), this has been the most enlightening and awakening choice I've yet to make, ever since that initial burn to know the truth began.  The burn to learn the truth about religion, about God, and why I'm here, what I'm here to do and how loved I truly am regardless of other men who threw me away. 

Now I know.  I'm here to be me.  To walk with the living spirit of Jesus inside me.  The ultimate power above all powers, the power that makes all others tremble in their stumbling ways.  The power of Love.   So simple it's complicated.   Yet to understand that, I had to take a long seeming torturous journey to find out.  A journey which has led me to where I am now.  Here,  sharing who I am, with you.  And you too have the power to call upon his name and rely solely on his loving powerful grace to live within the recesses of your being.  To speak to you about all the things you need to know.  To learn FIRST HAND from that powerful spirit.

As I go along and walk with the spirit today, I now walk more comfortably in the knowing, yet I'm still here, and suffering is just apart of being here, even with knowing.  Sometimes I sit here in half a daze, half ready to die, half ready to leave this dastardly world behind. It was such a burden not knowing what I'd do as a career for the rest of my life, and then came to find I'm really great at being a loving person, and the best job for a loving person, in my view, is to be a massage therapist.  In finding my own ability to give the gift of my touch, to administer healing and ease, sometimes I hold such a sense of excitement for life and the future.  Still knowing being poor of wealth, yet rich of love and true friendships is the gift beyond measure, I muster up courage and hold tight to the knowing that this war has already been won.   It is finished.

I dance to build my name, in the guidance that I can share who I know that came.  I sing to build my name in the choice of sharing the gift my father sent me here to share.  Who I am is important in the sense that those who know of me will have seen me and the path of my old walk and know how I came to be where I am today, and that's here, with the urge to help, the urge to do what my father wants for me to do.  To help in some way, to share love.  I go day by day and receive understandings of things I'd never have understood before.  

I see the pyramid of wealth, and business and understand that the truth is, it is an upside down Pit, and so many people are under the delusion that they're climbing up to the top, when in reality, they're falling down to the bottom of this pit, farther and farther away from the freedom of being free with Love, being with God on the path of understanding.

Who I am, connects to everyone.  Regardless of what I might think in any particular moment.  I remember one night I felt a sense of "ending".  Somehow I felt, I'm going to die soon.  My heart raced and I felt scared for a moment, I said to my spirit, "Please comfort me because I'm kinda scared".  But ready.  Because I know If I die, who I've been will be so much more cared about.  Isn't that crazy, not many really care about who you are, until you die!   Yet, I'm ready to go, knowing my babies will be so sad without me, I know they understand the truth, and that death does not exist and I will be with them again, as well always with them in their hearts.  It's not that I want to die, it's that I want the people I've known and who will know me when I leave, to really look around, and see.  To see what I've been seeing, and trying to show them. To care about others instead of themselves first.

Chapter 5 - Of God

God is the spirit of Love.  So if you're a person sending love, then your of God.  If your message to others is of Love, then you're an Angel.  This is way too simple for those who search emphatically to solve a puzzle that doesn't exist, it only exists for those who create it for themselves.

I now understand all past occurrences to be necessary in the stance of acceptance, hence us being here today right now, else we'd not be here, with even one tinny thing being changed the whole outcome would be different.  This I understand as "God's will".  An understanding in peace and forgiveness broke forth ripping shards of unknowing like a gift hidden deep in the places of my being.  Concern, fear, doubt, worry, preoccupation of thoughts and stances now turned into bubbles I can pop in seconds, instead of stones thrown at my head rendering me suffering, bleeding on the floor.   All past and present lay sleeping in forgiveness.  Finally woken up!  

The spirit of hate is conquered, one person at a time.

Now understanding my "self" as apart from the body I reside in, like being in a car, but not being "the car" itself, is when I came to search out why I'm here and what exactly I'm here to DO.  The search started around or about the year 2007.  I know this place is not our home.  I know because here is a place filled with sorrow confusion and mass amounts of lies and liars.  No matter how we try to make this place what we think is heaven, those moments of mild happiness are NOTHING compared.

This new walk renders a new vision, a new perspective of clarity in love and reason for all, even those who participate in those deep dark secret places of control.  I forgive you for what you've done.  I know you too will come to this understanding, and when your overcome with guilt and sorrow, I hope you call upon the Lord Jesus, because he's the only one who can rescue and forgive you for such atrocities.  A forgiveness so astounding it can cause pain and the wish for escape from this reality.

Sitting at a friends party, drinking smoking and having a mildly good time, gazing at turtles in a tank, I suddenly heard a song come on, one my eldest daughters father had as his ring tone, and a gun shot flood of realization swept over me, my stomach burned with hurt, the hurt from realization that I'd selfishly caused all three of us so much pain when I chose my youthful freedom over a family I'd already began to establish. 

It brought me to tears in the middle of that living room floor.  Hidden well however, I left but almost didn't make it home, a cop right behind me, and bail bondsman van to my left, way too close for comfort, somehow I made it home.  Now that I'm home the burning and aching of that realization won't let up.  My tears refused to release me and the desire to drown in deep sorrowful ocean overtaking my existence. 

Oh my God, it was all my fault, I hurt my own baby! Oh God! Please help me...

Finally falling asleep, I awoke to an immense crashing wave of sadness once again at what I'd done, my tears reignited and again refused to stop flowing. What can I possibly do to undo what's done?  The rippling pain I've caused in throwing that massive bolder of selfishness in the heart of our family, is still here?  Theirs nothing I can do to change the past, and now its in my face.  Staring down at me like a massive tsunami wave.

I grabbed my note book, and poured it onto paper. Begging in my heart as I wrote to humility to please forgive me. Upon completion I called and apologized in tears to my daughters father, he said he forgave me, once again gratitude and peace reset my heart, finally the pain had stopped. 

This letter poured from my sorrow filled shaking hand, tears dropping down on the page as I wrote.

(Letter to Humility attachment)

Dear Humility,

Please be all about me, take me into your loving arms and please love me.  Please forgive me for not embracing you at each and every moment of my existence, help me to humble myself in all times for all reasons.  Let me not be mean or hurtful ever.  Let me never escape from my desired and much needed home in your lands of forgiveness and peace.

Please reside also within me as I make my home in your place of being.  I only want to be good and do good, I want to not want for selfish reasons, my wants should always consist of everyone and the want for them all to be also at peace, as we all live in this place of what so easily seems to be wreaking of greed, selfishness, disregard for the other, and a misguided path of self righteousness.

I want to always be aware of how I effect others and the world and possibly the universe with my choices as a being of time.

Please be my friend and ever lasting companion, throughout whatever existence is encountered.  

With you by my side I will have nothing to fear, no one to see as less than myself, with complete and utter great regard for the comfort ability and understanding necessary for all moments.

I want to lay helpless in your loving embrace.  I come to you on my bruised and wretched knees of past disregard for understanding your splendor.  My eyes weep so heavily with the inner sights of how I walked so blindly outside of your light.  

In shadows of terror from incomprehension.

To fly off on your wings at my last breath of this reality would be my only worked toward goal beside all others, accompanied by all others.

Become my companion please, lead me forward to enjoy this gift of life, for without you, this place is a punishment.

Sincerely Yours, and with all my Love,

Caroline

(Letter to Humility attachment end)

Chapter 6 - Before I Go

When we go it's because It's time.  When it's time, it's time. 

We don't fight or kill to stay here because this is just a place were visiting.  If you were on vacation in Hawaii and someone who lived there said, you need to leave my home now or were going to have a problem, would you fight and kill them to stay in THEIR home?Knowing it's not your own?  Only one of darkness would do such a thing.  Killing another is always wrong no matter who you think gives you the right or permission to do such a thing, no matter what protection you think you're offering another in return.

I understand our immensely convincing need for "protection" by means of military is seemingly logical, and I understand we've been attacked in many ways, but the truth to these attacks is that this evil has always been kept alive by us joining in to attack back.  You can't stop a fight by jumping in, you can't put out a fire by starting on fire with those who keep starting fires.  

Children are dying everywhere, but we can't help them till we understand the truth of love inside.  We can't change the outside until we've understood and begin to change the inside.  Let the Lord Jesus bring you to life, he is alive, he is life.  When you invite his loving spirit to walk and guide you along this path that ends when you leave this place, is when you start to change the world your in.

This tight rope life walk is shaken often, daily waring thoughts of hate and a minuscule negativity attempt to creep in.  Within moments these old ways try and overcome me but I pray or say, "Lord be with me", & "Jesus, name above all names, beautiful savior".  Then I find myself apologizing to a loved one for having lost my patience.  I say the word "praying" but truly what I do is different from what many others call prayer.  I don't ask for things, I ask to be given the ability to handle what already is, because for me, it is ALL God's will.  

When I pray I'm simply talking to my internal spirit, sometimes like having a simple conversation with a friend who only has the desire to listen and council me.  Sometimes venting what I can't seem to handle for that day, because everyday that I wake up is a new day, and more beautiful as I have a closer to heaven understanding of why I'm here.

Forgiveness provides ease and understanding for those aching from the need of its big warm gentle hug.  Understanding in forgiveness eased me into the fact that I can relax, and take it easy, my last relationship addiction taught me to value myself.  The man I was involved with is not a "bad" man, just as alcohol per-say is not bad, it's the addiction that makes it a seeming enemy.  He is and always will be someone I learned much from and much with.  My appreciation for that time will always be within the memories locked behind me.  May all the men I've connected to come to know true Love, and see the truth in this message remembering me with love, as I send them all love pure and complete as I am finally complete at this time in my life.

On another level of acceptance, I have many close family members who continue to accept The Bible as The Word of God, knowing my personal stance on it, but I don't dislike or love them any less.  I know their intention is only love for me when they disagree with me, and we lovingly agree to disagree.  I won't be mean or hurtful about this message either because I trust my father to reveal to them what they must see, when it is their time to see it, just as I couldn't see until my time of sight came to free me.  My receipt of that difficult message made me realize that I can not become too attached so greatly to believing I am right, and any other is wrong.  Else my trust is not in truth, but myself being right or the fear of being wrong, and my path is Love not fear whom is hate, lies, disdain ex'cetra.

Try fathoming the true existence of the man Jesus Christ for a moment.  It is beyond so many peoples current capacity or ability to truly understand the complete and utter power within the freeing power of his walk on this planet.  Many times I'd sit in amazement at the sheer realization that this man was REAL.  Really here, really speaking those contagious words of love, really willing to forgive and truly forget.  I lost my breath on contemplation occasions at all the amazingly, seemingly impossible in today's views, trampling of undo able "miracles", that no one today could accomplish.  Yet a great many who've yet to truly fathom him alone, still believe in what they know of him, but to know of him is a whole different level than to know him personally and walk with him daily.  To claim the walk is pointless, to walk the walk, is powerful.

Now knowing I've yet to experience truly "being in love", as I've never before been pure and complete, doesn't render me sad and feeling lonely anymore, it leaves me with an excitement for the future.  I've heard it said that you can only fall in love for the first time once, and now I know that time is still to come.  This possibility of beauty and illumination alone bring comfort to my no longer seeking heart, I finally found and have contained what I was searching for so desperately.  Without want or need, pure love can be realized.

So many of my family members don't speak to each other at this point.  Whether it be for the reason of them starting problems in anothers life, or for what can easily be acceptable as a reason to "cut" one's self off from another.  I've done this and I know now that I have so much more patience and understanding, enough to share with anyone.  I want to connect with anyone who wants me in their lives because I understand this now, but when I didn't, I couldn't.  So if someone doesn't want you in their lives right now, know that it's most likely from misunderstanding, and perhaps they will come to the same understanding I came to, I humbly trust this is the will for every one of our fathers children.  I walk in it and know it.  Trust that.

Chapter 7 - Here Now

As we come closer and closer to world catastrophes, and maintain our comfort in knowing we've still got so much to understand, rest assured theirs only one simple thing to understand, and that's the difference between Love and Hate.  We know very well when were doing something to hurt another, saying something to hurt another.  We have to strengthen our ability to walk in the love we should be sending, seeking love energy and sending love energy.  

Now that I've openly shared my life and personal feelings about so much with you, I need to be clear about how I now connect and feel about who I am.  I've had such a rocky road all these years, and I spent many years without any contact or communications with many people, under the conviction that I was right in not wanting "toxic" or negative ways around me or my girls, but when I came to walk with the Lord, with the sorrow in realization of how all those years truly hurt, I wish to help to ease the realizations that will come, by sharing my own.  To separate your self from another who would love to have your presence around them, is a personal choice, and we must all do what we understand as best.  

No matter what we might think we don't have, we do have, and that's so much more than many have.  I'm happy to report my sister has forgiven me, and we're both happy growing into the future, enjoying our loving children, finally able to do so in peace of mind.

Though my opinions and life experience pertains to my own life, I hope my sharing can bring some love to your lives.

I send you love and the utmost of more from our father God.  Worry not, for this war has already been won, by the living blood of Jesus Christ... 

Chillax Amor... 

Were here.  Children of God be revealed!  Amen.  To men.  With all men and women.