my mind is cluttered

 Too many thoughts...too many changes at once.

Is this what life is? Struggles and changes and floundering around and being unsure and never really knowing what you're doing or what you're going to do or what you're up against or how to deal with things? 

Never-ending change? 

Side note - speaking of change, I don't like the new layout for the blogger new post page. 

meh. 

Cal believes in Jesus. This is awesome. This is better than I ever hoped or dreamed or imagined or expected. 

He's started reading the Bible, almost every day, and he's making changes in his life. He's trying to stop cursing, and he's asked so many questions about everything he's read that it's made me very happy. 

It's also made me very unsettled. It's strange to hear him say "all praises to the Most High," and it's scary to watch him get up to the parts in the Bible that are all about patriarchy and women must be silent and so forth. 

I'm afraid that it will make him judge me. Heck, I feel judged, just because he's read the parts about women should have long hair and men shouldn't. Now I know this means he will probably never grow his hair out again once he cuts it for school - oh yeah. He's going to a marine merchant school in Maryland and he's going to be gone for 6 months at a time. 

[insert saddest face possible here]

But on the bright side (there are many bright sides) he says that one good-length voyage would be a down payment on a house that he had shown me on Zillow. He also wants us to get married one day, and to be able to buy and move into our own house "very soon" afterwards. 

So these are good things. Bright sides. 

I need to remember them when the pms fears and thoughts of insecurity kick in. 

Thoughts like, what if he didn't really mean it? why did I have to ask? does he really love me? am I pushing him into this? will this all work out? can I handle having him so far away for so long? what am I afraid of? what if he's not meant to be with me and realizes that while abroad? how do I cope with not celebrating Christmas or the idea that we're actually hebrews? 

It's a lot. 

Then again, it's always a lot. That seems to be what life is: a lot. 

Well, he's got a plan now, and he was talking about saving money and I was saying how when he's on the ship, there won't be anything to spend his money on, and he went "well in our situation, if we were paying off a mortgage, the money would be coming out of that account." 

So. 

Why do I need to reassure myself so much? Why do I start doubting things so quickly? How do I stop? 

I need cuddles. 

I am so tired.

I am mentally exhausted. I am emotionally drained. I am creatively tapped out.

There is too much going on in the world.

First the pandemic. Then the lockdown/quarantine/stay at home order and worldwide social distancing. Then George Floyd's murder (the latest in a long string of ropes that make up the noose tied around Black people's necks). Now the protests and looting and rioting that have led to an 8pm curfew here in New York City.

The misinformation and the rumors about Covid-19 and the vaccines. The conspiracy theories. The not knowing if any of it is really true, because of course if it was true they'd deny it anyway.

The uncertainty regarding the fall semester and the reopening of school, just when I finally got started again.

The fear anytime I see a police car behind me. The constant worry about my dad and brother and boyfriend - if they were to get stopped by police.

The everything else that usually bothers me.

I don't know what to do.

I didn't want to join protests, because I don't want to be a martyr that's not counted when I could make a difference somehow behind the scenes. Also because I'm genuinely afraid. There. I said it. Maybe that makes me un-Black, or weak, but I'm afraid of going to a peaceful protest and having a SWAT team descend on me or a police officer knock me over. I don't like confrontation.

But I'm also angry. Angry to the point of being unable to think straight. I'll try to focus on doing research for my June blog on meditation, and my thoughts keep going back to a blurry mental image of George Floyd on the ground with a knee on his neck. Or to the caption I read that contained his last words. How he called out for his mama, even though she'd died two years before.

Why?

Why do they hate us? Why are they afraid of us? Why do they create groups dedicated to eradicating us and depict us as stupid and take the credit for our discoveries and inventions? Why do they teach us that our history began with us as slaves? Why did they steal a country from one indigenous people and uproot another to rebuild it with blood and death and tears and torture - and then refuse those people (both Natives and Blacks) the right to live peacefully and free from fear and mistreatment in that same country?

Why is the only history we learn told from the European conqueror's point of view? From the European explorer's point of view?

BUT WHY?

Why do they say that our natural features are unprofessional and not beautiful - curly hair, dark skin, thick lips - yet they lie for hours in tanning beds, risking skin cancer to add color to their skin or smear tinted creams on themselves, they perm their hair and pump their lips full of filler, they slap cornrows on a celebrity or a model and suddenly it's acceptable.

It almost makes you want to hate them.

Not all of them. Just the ones who are horrible, or who are ignorant and refuse to allow themselves to be educated. But it's hard to know who is who when you see them on the street or in the grocery store. It's hard not to feel a pang of resentment knowing that they will NEVER have to be afraid for their life when they're pulled over by a police officer, or that however they look is the universal standard of beauty. That they're able to go to a good school and get a good job or decent healthcare treatment just because of the Caucasian name on their resume/ID card.

It's not fair.

I grew up with a White mother who frequently forgot she wasn't Black, because she lived in a Black community, surrounded by Black people, married to a Black man, raising a Black step-son and biracial Black daughter for the last 30 years of her life. More than half of her life. People would ask her if she was Jamaican because of how integrated with the culture she became, even though she had blonde hair and green eyes and skin that burned after thirty minutes in the sun.

I grew up thinking that most White people in America were like my mother - kind and openhearted and loving of Black people - until she died and Trump got elected president, (as a matter of fact he didn't get elected, it was just the stupid electoral vote that isn't fair anyway, the majority wanted Hilary Clinton) and all the closet racists and neo-Nazis and patriotic bigots came out of the woodwork.

I was shocked.

I used to think it was cool to be half-White. Now...now I don't know how to feel about it. It's screwing with my identity and sense of self big time. It feels like half of me hates me. I don't proudly tell people I'm mixed anymore. I just say I'm Black. And that also feels like a betrayal of my mother, who was a beautiful woman with a beautiful soul, and I know she would have been out here at these protests, doing something to make a difference.

I miss her.

The feelings are all so convoluted.

My friend asked me the other day how being half Black and half White affects me in this current racial climate...and the truth is, it confuses me. I don't know who to identify with, because while I never wanted to pick sides before, now it feels like I have to. And of course, I'm going to pick the Black side, because no one should be treated the way Blacks are in this country that WE BUILT. LITERALLY. I'm going to pick the Black side because the color of my skin and the texture of my hair dictate that I'm viewed as Black by anyone who looks at me, and the stupid one-drop rule declares me Black and subject to the same discriminations that anyone not one hundred percent "White American" would face.

But it feels disingenuous. Almost as if I'm hopping on a bandwagon. Like I don't deserve to be a face amongst the ones who are discriminated against, because I'm not one hundred percent Black. Then again, is ANYONE one hundred percent White or Black or Asian or Pacific Islander or whatever other stupid racial categories they have on the Census form? It's all just ways to divide us - I understand that now it's to make sure we get what we need because we've been discriminated against in the past and it's to make sure there's room for diversity and affirmative action and all that....

BUT THAT SHOULDN'T BE NECESSARY IN THE FIRST PLACE!

That's always been my point, back when I was flying the banner of All Lives Matter. My point was that it should never have gotten to the point of needing to actively include people or marginalize them further because they were marginalized in the past and now you need to make sure you make up for it.

But I get it now. Black Lives Matter because they don't matter to a scarily significant number of people who have authority over us, and because they don't matter to the troll who calls himself our president and shoots tear gas at peaceful protestors so he can get a photo op with a Bible.

The BLASPHEMY and HYPOCRISY.

Will it never end with this man? How can people support him? How can people say that he's the best president we've ever had? How can he compare himself to Abraham Lincoln and claim he's done more for Blacks than any president besides Lincoln?

My dad says not to hate him. I'm trying not to.

The problem with being hated and targeted is that it's hard to not let your anger turn into hatred as well, especially when you see such stupidity and willful ignorance.

Sigh.

I'm glad I got that out. I don't feel that much better, but my mind is a little clearer. My heart is still racing low key, though. I hope some change for the better comes out of all of this, and that it's not a one world order. I'm not ready to handle that level of biblical prophecy coming true just yet.

Laters.

I think I have to word vomit

I had a great weekend. Sleepover and bonfire with Cal, plenty of cuddles and watching Avatar the Last Airbender (it's on Netflix now) and trying out a new game he got: Nioh 2. It was kinda fun, but I'm not feeling the whole "demon" thing. They creep me out, and if I'm being honest, my dad's beliefs about such things have rubbed off on me a bit. Can't discount it, anyway.

Still. It was a really nice weekend.

Oh, my glasses arrived today. I ordered them from Firmoo and they look fantastic. I got one pair that's clear/gold rimmed and has a night time anti glare coating on it, and a burgundy pair that are blue-light cancelling. I'll wear the gold ones on the regular and the red ones when I'm on my computer.

I also installed faux locs in my hair again - the last time I did that was maybe in 2014 or 2015. My dad hates it, of course, and is convinced that I am sliding further and further down the slippery slope into hell - apparently they're not a protective style and they're just a means for demons to enter me I suppose. Well. Sigh.

Thing is, the person that he wants me to be; the daughter he wanted - that's not who I am. I'm someone who likes piercings and playing the piano, who wants to try out video games and likes to speculate about aliens and time travel, who believes in science and stretches her earlobes and wants to have pet cats. I'm someone who always wants to know why before I choose to believe something, who wants to experience life on my own terms and drink a bottle of beer once in a while (as in once every four or five months).

But he wanted a singer with a heavenly voice; a gymnast or basketball player who wears long skirts and loose clothes and never ever ever cuts her hair. Someone who is one hundred percent involved in an old-time Pentecostal church and never so much as looks at a man unless she's been told by a pastor that this man is to be her husband. Someone who reads the Bible every single day (I'll admit, ain't nothing wrong with that) and doesn't question what she's told. Even if it's social media telling you that a vaccine (that doesn't exist yet) has a microchip in it and is going to be the mark of the beast. I swear this is getting to be too much to handle mentally.

When I got depressed after my mother died and lost 30 pounds, he told me I didn't look good; I looked too skinny and who would want me like that? Meanwhile literally everyone else was telling me how great I looked, and aside from wishing my butt was a little bigger, I liked myself at that size. Then when I gained back the 30 and an additional 10, he pointed out the cellulite on my thighs and said I was getting too big, that men don't like cellulite, and asked if I was pregnant.

*laughs bitterly and shrugs*

Can't win with him, huh? That's why I've pretty much given up. I think I need to move out, but the problem is, I can't f*cking afford it. Not unless I live in my car, and what will I do with the cats then? Perhaps I should keep applying for affordable housing. Maybe I'll get lucky.

At least I'm back in school now, working on my masters. That reminds me: I need to register for fall classes, but first I have to find out whether or not I qualify for financial aid if I'm part time. I'll do that this evening when I'm done writing on here.

Tomorrow I have a zoom call scheduled with a feminist/steminist/motivational coach, and I really hope that I can participate in her program and that it helps me to stop procrastinating and doubting myself.

I mean, I can either continue to live in my dad's shadow and second guess every decision I make, feel bad about doing my hair or whether or not I decide to spend a bit of money on some decor or clothes, or I can woman up and be an adult and start living like one.

And I don't think I can reasonably do that still living at home.

I will first get myself stable financially, and then I will move out. I can't deal with the anxiety anymore.

I get anxious when I know he's coming home, or going to be home. I start to feel like I've done something wrong and I'm going to get in trouble whenever I think of him. If I spend an extra night away from home I'm convinced he's going to kick me out. I live in constant fear of judgment.

Oh my gosh.

Now I see what my mother was going through. Now I understand why her anxiety was always through the roof, why she often took it out on me, and why she was stressed.

It's very unfortunate. I can't imagine being married to the person who makes you feel that way, and worse, being 100% dependent on them because you're not working.

I must never be dependent on a man.

I've noticed that my anxiety from my dad is leaking out into other areas of my life and making me worry about what other people think of me, too. It's not good. I will conquer it.

Yeah. I'm aiming for a one bedroom apartment. I might like the idea of studios, but ain't nothing wrong with a one bedroom if you can afford it. Alrighty.

The writing has helped.

And my glasses are cool.

See ya next time.

It's 2020, and I never did a 2019 me.

So here's me...but it's an April 2020 me.

• my hair is growing out
• I dyed it bronze-ish auburn-ish (it was supposed to be blondish)
• same two cats and a new betta fish named Raxacoricofallapatorius 
• still work at Target
• started my masters again in science communication (FINALLY)
• four years into my relationship (and things have gotten SO much better than I ever expected)
• I stand up for myself a lot more than I ever used to
• I wear more black and red now than anything because work uniform
• I started drawing again
• I taught myself how to make stickers (from scratch)
• I learned to make GOOD baked macaroni and cheese (have my own recipe now)
• my bedroom looks like a minimalist boho studio apartment
• I do my own mani pedis with gel nail polish 
• still obsessed with the mortal instruments and all spin offs
• the new doctor who seasons suck
• but I'll always love the old ones
• went on my first cruise
• went with cal and his mom & her friend
• it went to bermuda
• went in a hot tub for the first time
• I'm growing my hair out again
• I had cut it into a buzz cut so it was less than an inch long 
• I transitioned from classical to jazz
• got drumsticks as a gift (only took 13 years)
• still dress mostly sporty/athleisure 
• getting curious about makeup
• actually really like playing video games
• spend my weekends at cal's (& dad is okay with it!)
• there's a frigging pandemic going on
• I've kept plants alive for about a year now
• my relationship with my dad is pretty okay
• relaunched my science instagram and gained quite a few followers 
• gotta stay active
• paid off my amazon credit card
• went to the corn maze with cal for the second year in a row
• gained about 45 lbs in about a year and a half
• hey, at least I have my butt back
• gotta get rid of this belly gut though
• it scares me that I question christianity so much
• but I do believe Jesus died for my sins
• I still want to know "why" everything
• favorite color....maybe pale dusty rose? I like neutrals a lot.
• favorite food: chicken wings
• favorite movies: still day after tomorrow, I robot, and transformers
• favorite tv shows: doctor who, that 70's show
• best book I've read lately: funny. I don't remember the name of it but I read it while on the cruise. that one. 
• I look more like my mother than ever before
• had to give my cats away and then got them back
• I really need routines and lots of breaks
• I have an obsession with notebooks
• floral things. all things floral.
• I still do a lot of psychology research online
• did a road trip to NC, stopped in Delaware and passed through virginia, saw the Capitol
• cal told me he loves me

2019 was a really good year. It was actually the first year since my mother died that I spent mostly happy. Genuinely happy, content, and with positive feelings for most of the year (there were a few hiccups here and there but overall, it was good.)

I just realized I've had this blog for ten years now.

I guess you could say it's my longest commitment ever. LOL.

Wow.

Ten whole years.

I still remember the day I started it, sitting in biology class with...what was her name? Pearlmutter? She was a cancer biologist. The theme was different back then...all black and dark and emo, haha.

This has basically been a place where I've dumped all my fears, hopes, dreams, fantasies, plans, heartbreaks, adventures...for a whole decade.

I kind of can't believe it. And in that time, only what, four people really know it exists? It's best that way. It's basically my diary.

If I hadn't had this, I'd have gone mad years ago.

Thanks for being here, blogspot.

things about him pt. 3

The way he will lean on me when he's sleeping, even if he's facing the opposite direction. The way he will play with my hands or reach up to hold them when I'm on the bed and he's playing video games. How he always gets super affectionate if I've fallen asleep before him and will wake me to give me a goodnight kiss. The way he wraps his arms around me from behind sometimes and will lean his head on my back and just rest there. How he's willing to listen to my insecurities and asks about them but doesn't get upset or judge me. The fact that he made a photo of me his laptop wallpaper - and I just happened to notice one day when he was on his laptop. The fact that he made his password the AIM username I had when we first became friends 13 years ago. The orgasms. Yeah, I went there. How he will call me from work and spend hours on the phone with me while working, while driving home, and then stay on the phone with me until he's ready to go to sleep (usually after midnight). How he doesn't mind being on the phone with me while he's sculpting, or while he's doing other things throughout his day. The way he will check to see if I've made it home safely if I don't text that I'm home within the tine I would usually get home from work. The check-ins that he gives me when he's gotten to work, is done, and is home, or if he's at a friend's house. The fact that his friends are so sure that he's in his last relationship, and that he said if he ever messed up he has everything to lose. How he said he's gotten used to me sleeping next to him, and his sleep isn't as satisfying if I'm not there. How we spent six hours or so laying in bed cuddling innocently on our fourth anniversary, just holding hands and caressing each other. How he wants to play video games with me and got me a sci-fi video game for Christmas, wrapped up and tied with a ribbon. The level of skill he has with sculpting - how much he's improved over the years. His skill with building furniture from scratch. His support of whatever I want to do, and his faith in me.

There's more. But I got this bit out of my system to remind myself to appreciate what I have. Who I have. Don't let the fear kick in.

Things I've discovered about myself

I need a routine. I need to stay busy. Too much time alone with my thoughts and unless I'm in a great place mentally, I'll be in a horrible place within the hour. I don't deal with stress well. I multitask a lot - I'll be watching one YouTube video on my TV, another on my iPad, reading an article on my phone and alternate between cooking, cleaning and drawing or painting, approximately every fifteen minutes. My default mode is silence - I don't talk much when I'm content or comfortable. I need to go outside and physically touch nature every once in a while; pick up a stick, rip up some grass or sit on a rock near a pond or stream.

I overthink too much. Way too much. I'll overthink the good things, then project them onto someone else besides myself and start overthinking bad things.

I stand up for myself a lot more now than I used to. I let people know when I'm not okay with something they've said or done, whether it's to me or someone else. I've become obsessed with the color pink. It's kind of ridiculous, really. I take criticism very hard, even though I try not to. I try to be open and vulnerable and courageous and love. Sometimes I succeed.

I can't go too long without eating pasta. Cuddles (with Cal) are the best thing ever. I'm not as much of an adamant "paperback book only" kind of reader anymore. I might buy a kindle. I've become more swept up in the feminist/steminst/blacklivesmatter movements than I ever thought I would be.

There are more things, but for now, let's let that sit.