Ringmaster Of My Circus

 Image Credit: Google & Pexels

Writer’s block or an emotional block? Whichever, I need it to go away.

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 When I began my peer-reviewed journal 3 months ago I was a little bit apprehensive. At the time, I was nervous about willingly allowing people to have front row seats to my three ring circus. My abundance of emotions carefully performing on the trapeze, and my personal thoughts racing around the ring like monkeys on miniature motorcycles. Dreadfully, these are my monkeys and this is my circus. 

That wasn’t the exclusive thing that I was hesitant about. In addition, there was the established fact that I’m not a writer. Realistically being a brilliant writer I knew wouldn’t happen, sounding like a baboon which found a keyboard was my fear. The question I acknowledged and proposed to myself was, could I comprehensively express through writing all my irrational thoughts and emotions. With no writing experience, and not thoroughly comprehending them myself, I wasn’t convinced that I could successfully pull it off. 

For almost 5 years, when I would think about starting a published journal these two things would repeatedly paralyze me. One, embarrassed about being hyper emotional, two, the genuine fear of being laughed at. For some apparent reason however, 3 months after the emotional separation with my fiance, these two things didn’t matter to me anymore. Not really certain why this is, but it was a profound relief. At long last, I could launch something that would be beneficial to my mental health. 

In the beginning when I started writing, my thoughts and emotions flowed out effortlessly. Out of my imaginative mind to my fingers like water rushing out of a pinned up damn. Lately, it’s the complete opposite. My thoughts are short firing and racing all over the place. My overwhelming emotions are stunned to a point of not knowing how to inevitably feel. With everything that’s been going on with my ex, this doesn’t surprise me in the least.

Either I have writer’s block, or I’m suffering from an emotional block. Whichever it is, I merely desire it to end.  Having all these racing thoughts and emotions in my bewildered head is too much. It’s aggravating me being unable to release them in writing. Up to this point, writing in my journal has been beneficial to my mental health. Now with this blockage it’s hurting my mental stability.

Carefully moving past a writer’s block I would think taking a break would be sufficient. Therefore, I’ve been doing just that. This emotional block, if that’s what’s going on, I have no idea where to start. For many years, I’ve been conscientiously working on the ability to manage my emotions. For as long as I can remember I’ve never retained absolute control of them. They’ve been in the driver seat my entire life, and I’m at a terrible loss on how to take the wheel.

A thought just popped into my head. Don’t you love when that happens? Conceivably it’s neither writer’s block or an emotional block that’s preventing me from expressing myself openly. This started after my ex engaged in his little mind game with me. Could this have made the reasons, “fears” that originally prevented me from starting my journal in the first place return? I’ve never understood why those fears left, so who’s to say his mind game didn’t cause them to resurface. If this in fact is the reason, I steadfastly refuse to cower down. Especially to fears drummed up by a narcissistic fool.

Those fears were unreasonable. Also, they aren’t necessary. Not wanting to experience my life through a lens of fear, I started working on that, and have achieved some success. For that reason I will not allow this or him to set me back. To think he possibly could be the cause of my blockage makes me nauseous. The question is, will I willingly grant him this much power and mental control over me?

As the ringmaster of my circus and these monkeys, there’s not a chance in hell. Pack your bags, I have retired your act.

Until Next time

Nadia  

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Emotionally Discombobulated

Image Credit ~ Google, Pixabay, Canva

For two miserable days, I’ve been emotionally discombobulated wandering aimlessly around this apartment

Instinctively, I assumed it to be the dead man, naturally playing amongst the strings of my raw emotions, but it wasn’t. My sister Lou Lou came over to drop off my keys and during our conversation it became abundantly clear. As we were sitting here in the living room talking, my sister asks me.  “Can you believe mother would have been 65 years old today if she were still alive?” Just like that, like turning on a light switch, my entire emotional roller coaster was explained.  

What amazes me is how I can be unaware it’s her birthday but subconsciously it still affects me. It’s been like that since her passing. And has been for two days now. Forgetting her birthdate is one thing but it’s impossible to not notice the whole month of October. Typically every year as September is coming to an end, I start getting sadder and more depressed. That’s how it continues grimly till the 31st of October. It’s virtually like the identical thing how the dead man’s and my relationship plays over from the beginning to the end on a repeat player. That is what happens with me the month of her death.

From the front of this apartment to the back, I can detect the dead man’s unavoidable presence in every room. Starting in the kitchen where I used to diligently prepare our meals. Since he left, I can count on one hand how many times I’ve turned my stove on. Next heading back to the closet where his clothes used to hang, that’s still a negative space I avoid if at all possible. In this apartment that he and I found, no desolate corner is safe. Whatever corner I go for to try and find an emotional moment of peace, I find him there waiting for me. I don’t even utilize what used to be our bedroom. To be honest, I don’t use the back side of the apartment at all. Those three spaces and the kitchen are like black holes to me. His overpowering presence in this apartment is extremely haunting. There are even times like last night I could believe he was staring at me from behind.

Right after the dead man moved and went back home with his mammy, I earnestly believed I needed to stay in this apartment. Afraid to lose the one thing I had left of him. Now 6 months later and a plethora of mental games, I’ve never wanted to move as much as I do now. When I started contemplating this move, I kept getting caught up on something. Fact is, if I move my sister and nephew would be stranded here without reliable transportation. This isn’t my problem, I’m aware of that. However, by heart being the person that I am, it’s undoubtedly going to be hard for me to selfishly abandon them. Abandoning them here without a way to work, shop, everything I don’t imagine my heart will allow. All I can do is pray about it and leave it in God’s hands.

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 There’s not a way to sugar coat the fact that I’m being emotionally dissolved from within. Of course, it’s tearing me apart that I’m never allowing myself to talk to the dead again. However, do I think it’s necessary?Absolutely I do. Do I harbor love for him? Yes, I do, but that does not mean that I’m IN love with the dead. My schedule is all booked up, and all time slots for little boys who like playing mind games are full. Not one bit do I desire to be mentally toyed with by a narcissistic dead man. I already have enough on my plate for him to be adding his games. 

My emotional limit has been reached. Any more I’ll be past the point of return. The last time I felt anywhere near how I’m feeling at present, I tried extinguishing my own life. There was not one ounce of fun in attempting to snuff out my life. Once I was consciously aware of where I was, and what I had done. I relinquished all control of my emotions. Weeping, the first possible thing I did was humbly thank God. For graciously allowing me to continue living life. Genuinely I knew without him I would have died. In that extraordinary moment I made a promise to both myself and to god, that under no circumstance would I attempt that again. Ultimately, God allowed me to continue living. On top of that, he provided me with the clear understanding that I’m on this planet for a reason. The fact that I lived meant whatever my purpose is, it hasn’t been completed. From this experience in my life, I will pull the much needed strength and courage to forget I ever encountered this enraged dead man. 

“i rely my chaos and the light more than my silence and the nights as it paves a way through all the dark loneliness that used to haunt me in the midnights when a part of me surrounded by you, left along with you.” -Aayushi-

yourquote.in

Until next time

Nadia

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Enough Is Enough

Image Credit: Pixabay & Google

Have you ever had enough of something that you just can’t take any longer?Anything? Well, I have and Nicholas, enough is enough!

I’ve deleted what I’ve written 4,854 times. Each time I try being as nice and polite as I can be. Yet, each time getting more pissed off because I shouldn’t have to be polite or nice. Especially to someone who is playing with my mind. This is my journal, and this is where I am allowed to come and let it out.

 To some, what I’m about to say may be on the extreme side of things. Yes, I’d probably agree with you on most days. However in the past, to get over a relationship that has ended, this is where I have to go. If not, I’m not able to move on. Up until this point with Nick, I’ve refused to go here because I wanted to do things differently. What I’ve finally realized is that with Nick I’m going to have to go here.

Waking up this morning I was angry and disoriented. If my sister hadn’t come over, I would have still believed I’d died and woke up in an alternate universe. Most of the anger that I harbor is towards myself. Furious that I still allow this fool to blatantly play mind games with me? Why do I keep allowing it? Is it because of love? This doesn’t feel like love; I know what love feels like. I’m angry with myself because I’ll say in one breath I’m done with his bull shit, and in the next breath I’m in the state of mind that I’m currently in. Enough is enough!

This time I’ve actually had enough of it Nicholas! Mentally, I’m allowing you to check me into the nearest mental ward, and I’m not fighting back at all. Emotionally, I’ve already allowed you to mold me into someone completely unfamiliar to whom I was when we met. Without any elaboration, my body and heart can’t take it any longer. If I allow you to maintain this grip on me, then I’m allowing you to ruin me from within. This I won’t allow Nicholas, and for that reason, you are now dead to me.

Never will I text you again. Remember Nicholas; I’m not supposed to text dead people. Never again will I email you. Recall Nicholas; I’m not supposed to talk to the forgotten dead at all? Never again will I call you like I foolishly tried to tonight for the first desperate time in nearly 6 terrible months. Recall Nicholas; dead people aren’t supposed to talk. You restricted my main number and forwarded my secondary number. You dismissed all my desperate pleas to merely utter anything even if it inevitably was a get lost. In that very moment, I realized I was desperately trying to get a hold of a dead man. Enough is enough!

By foolishly allowing a dead person to affect me, in turn allowed him to rob me of my new hopes and dreams with Ricardo.  For one moment, don’t think I’m unaware this was your ultimate end game. Even down to you being vocal on the video that inevitably affected me in the personal way that it did. You’re aware of what you’re executing, you’re a narcissist and manipulator just like your,……… never mind I’m not going to go there. All of it was intentional, and that was your last hoo raw at my emotional expense.

I’ve comfortably accommodated you enough Nicholas, and allowed enough of your head games. You are hereby DEAD to me!

Good Riddance
Nadia Darlene Mazonis

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All Wrapped Up

Image Credit: Google 

What does the emotion of love feel like to you?

My entire life I’ve been a firm believer in the idea that everything happens for a reason. Probably because I was taught that our life story was written by God before we were born. So, in my mind everything we do, or everyone we meet is not by chance.

As I stated yesterday, not having to deal with the nonsense of relationships has been pretty easy. All I’ve had to do is keep my mind mentally stimulated or let the universe drop something in my lap. Tonight the universe was there to help yet again. 

For some reason I came across paths with this beautiful soul. I read a poem that  he wrote, and I can’t even put into words how it made me feel. I’m not usually speechless but after reading the last words of this poem, I was frozen. Really, all it was is I just didn’t want the feeling that I had to go away. This feeling that I was experiencing was very familiar and I haven’t’ felt it in quite some time

Honestly, I’m still a little bumfuzzled. For some reason I still can’t get my thoughts to form correctly in sentences. My brain is telling my fingers to type this and my heart it directing them to type that. To prevent me from saying something foolish, I’m going to stop right here.

In the end this is what I was able to compose so I could thank him for opening up the floodgates of hope.

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Lonely Author

Literally I just came from staring at the comment box on your post “i will love you” over on your blog. My every intention was to leave you a message to thank you for expanding my heart to allow hope to flourish again. After everything that has taken place in the past six months, as it relates to my love life, my hope was all but demolished.

The hope that I would ever experience the unique feeling of being loved again was dead and gone. Genuinely, I thought I’d never experience it again. Yet somehow the words you carefully composed in this poem wrapped around me like a thermal blanket of love. What it abundantly proved to me is, within my emotional core, love is still alive.

Sadly, I had to leave without submitting that comment. Once I was capable of moving and processed what was going on, I couldn’t gather the words to express my gratitude. In all sincerity, I’m still having a little bit of trouble. The fact that I have no idea who you realistically are astonishes me. You’ve made me feel alive again and gave me back the hope of love. With that being said, from the bottom of my heart, I want to THANK YOU!!

As I was leaving your blog, I couldn’t help but notice you were going through some possible health issues. Whatever it is, I’m going to be praying for you! Your soul is a beautiful one, and I know this because I can detect your presence. Whatever the issue is, have faith that you will come out on the other side healthier and happier.

Best Regards & Sweet Dreams
Nadia

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Only For The Chance

Image Credit: Google

Have you ever known anyone who would do anything, I mean ANYTHING to hurt someone? No matter who they hurt in the process?

Having not to think about and process my love life or the lack of is actually pretty easy. All I’ve had to do is stay focused learning the technical language of website building and the internet. Or wait for the universe to give me something to focus on. Tonight the universe was the one to be of a helping hand. 

When I woke up the first thing on my mind was my nephews and their mother Candy. My brother and Candy, now divorced, lost my nephews to the state of Arkansas about six months ago. At the time, they weren’t being responsible parents and the boys were put into foster care.Today was the court date for them to find out what was next, in the process of bringing the boys home. Once I was fully awake, I called Candy to find out what was said in court today.

After Candy told me what happened in court, I was a bit heated. Why is the state of Arkansas or the Department of Human/Children Services unprepared? This Department what ever it’s called near you, is nothing but legal human trafficking promoted by the local state. Whether you’re careless or someone evil calls to report you to watch you suffer, once the state gets their slimy hands on your children, they don’t want to let go. Why? The federal money the state receives for these children. “Tearing families apart and making dough” should be their rallying cry. To begin with they’ll take your children and not give a damn and OWN them immediately. Next, want you to do 20 backflips, and land one footed in a tulip glass. Only for the “CHANCE” you might get YOUR own kids back. In the end, another court date was set. The kidnappers demanded more time to figure out what to implement next since Candy satisfactorily completed all their ransom demands.

After recording that, I feel nauseous. It severely weakens my heart because the youngest of the boys doesn’t think he will ever get to come home. He started saying to his mother over the phone that he thinks he’ll never get to come… At that time my oldest nephew promptly cut him off and reassured him that YES!! WE WILL be going home! Well darn it, that made me cry. 

How this happens frequently to me I’ll never know. When I sat down, the plan wasn’t to write about the human trafficking that goes on in our supposedly civilized country. My prime focus was initially on my degenerate brother and Candy’s sick in the head cousin Andrea. My self-centered brother didn’t even know about court today. He never thinks about the boys much less love them. It’s his fault completely that Candy was inadvertently put on the kidnappers radar. This is accurately is ALL HIS FAULT!! Which I’ll talk about tomorrow.

Until next time

Nadia

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