Posted in dead man walking, emotions or emotional, haunting memories, heart-ache, my mother

Emotionally Discombobulated

Image Credit ~ Google, Pixabay, Canva

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

what and black graphic for emotionally discombobulated adj. confused or uncertain

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.

sunflower field woman with straw hat sunny day happy birthday in heaven mamma

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.

 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

Get new content delivered directly to your inbox.

Posted in egotistical family, mental abuse, mindset of 2015, my authentic self, physical abuse, therapy

Freedom

Image Credit: Pixabay

Well, I couldn’t sleep last night to save my life. I laid down, and my mind would not stop going over what my sister had said to me. Since the beginning of my transition, my baby sister, and my eldest sister were the only two people who supported me, and protected me for living my truth. When I decided to finally transition, I lost my partner of twelve and a half years. With him out of my life, these two women were all that I had, until the day I met my ex. So, now I had these three individuals, who were my sole support system until I met a lot of supportive people online. As everyone knows my main supporter, the ex, left in November. He was my rock in the beginning of my transition entering my life when I was on hormone replacement therapy for just three months. At this point, is when I started presenting as Nadia full time. My foundation has fallen out from under me, and with my baby sister pulling her stunt yesterday, I had a sick feeling in my stomach. If I reacted the way I normally would, for someone calling me by my birth name, I would have lost her, leaving me with just my oldest sister. I would have been fine with this, but my heart was telling me that I needed to reach out to her. She is too important in my life, and I know why she said what she did. I wasn’t responding to her messages, and she did the one thing that she knew would get a response out of me. Well, it worked. Before I contacted my little sister, I called the eldest sister to see if she had heard from our baby sister at all. She hadn’t, and wanted me to explain to her what had happened. We talked for a while, and after we hung up, I was so glad that I talked to her. She agreed with me on both, what Mandy had said to hurt me, and with what was going on in the family. She told me that if Mandy contacted her, she would tell her what was on her mind, and explain to her that what she said to me was wrong, and what I was doing, was for my nephews, not for my sister-in-law. It was now seven a.m., so I messaged my baby sister. I told her that I loved her, and that if she could squash what happened yesterday, I too would suffocate my feelings, so we could continue to be in one another’s lives. I was so thankful that she agreed, we both told each other that we needed one another, and we said I love you. I didn’t hear from her the rest of the day, but I know that we are okay, and I’ll either see her, or talk to her tomorrow.

quote by moshe dayan freedom is the oxygen of the soul

Most of the day I was alone sitting here at the computer talking to a number of people. My sister-in-law, and her boyfriend ran around this morning after she got home from work, then they had to go to Paragould Arkansas for visitations with my nephews. I had a good, long conversation with my oldest niece. It has been so long since we have spoken like we did tonight. I’m extremely proud of her, and I believe she has finally got her head on her shoulders straight. We had such a wonderful conversation, we mostly talked about my ex, she never met him, and never knew the hell that he had put me through. So, I explained all the craziness, and told her everything that happened during those four years, and explained how it affected me. Bless her soul, she said some of the nicest, kindest things to me. Nothing that anyone has said impacted me more than the words that she used. I now feel free, and like it’s okay to let go. Actually I know I have to let go because it’s a life or death choice. She made sure to tell me to let loose because the more I hung on, and had contact with him the bigger of a chance his crazy ass could flip and show up here to kill me. I did miss him on occasion today, and as soon as the wacko popped into my head, I brought forward the memory of him punching me in the eye, and pinning me to the ground trying to put his hands around my neck. This totally worked every time. The missing him would go away and I had an instant shot of fear through my body. Problem solved. No one has lifted me up off the ground and boosted my spirit like my niece did tonight. To be honest, I can’t remember what exact words she used to perform what felt like magic, but thank god I reached out to her. My self-worth, and self-esteem are no longer ripped up and stomped on in a ditch. Her words brought me right back to the state of mind I had when I first started hormone replacement therapy. Three months before meeting what would turn out to be a four-year nightmare. Now that my mind is washed clean, of the being looked down on because I didn’t make a certain amount of money. Looked down on because I didn’t come from a certain class of family. From the knowing they despised me because I couldn’t give them a grandchild. The list could go on and on. I’ll just say this. When he first told them, excuse me. When his cousin snitched on him and told his family that he was dating a transgender woman. They came unhinged. I had never heard anything quite like it, and I came from a pretty crazy household. They hated me from the VERY beginning, and hadn’t even met me yet. After talking about my crazy past relationship, the conversation switched over to my mamma. I’m going to make this real short because, I don’t feel like crying. The whole time she and I spoke about it I was in tears. My niece and nephew were still babies when their Nana Judy died. My mother took care of them, like she took care of all of us. When mom died, my world literally stopped. I know in reality my niece is going to turn thirty-two or thirty-three this year. I know that I’m going to turn forty-five. When I say my world stopped, my mind stopped time. When I think of my nephew and niece, in my mind they are still babies. I just turned twenty-one. Everyone one of us is the same age we were when mamma died. My niece said it best when I told her my experience. She was like YES! We are stuck in time and can’t move. She said that she has always felt like that. I told her I’m the same. I recommended she sees a therapist. I see one twice a week. I told her that it’s not going to take that feeling away, but it will help understand why our brains did what they did when we found out we were going to lose the matriarch of our family. That was hard. I didn’t cry. I’m proud of myself. Pats self on back.

Sweet Dreams,
Nadia Darlene Mazonis