My favorite fruit

Mi fruta favorita es maracuyá. Aquí la conocen como passion fruit y en otros lugares le llaman parcha.

Lastimosamente, la fruta debe de ser importada, lo que la hace inaccesible.

Muchas de mis personas favoritas se encuentran en mi familia, pero el costo que representa tenerlos como parte de mi vida es demasiado alto para mí. Es inaccesible.

Bats in the attic

I have bats in the attic.

Don't know how many, maybe it's just a few but everytime they bat their winds around I get dizzy and confused.

Most attics have bats in them, some more than others, those who claim to be bat free 

harbour bat remains and talk to their ghosts when no one sees them.

I think it's time I go up there and bring them a snack, a peace offering if you may.

I think it's time to make the bats my friends. 

May 2, 2025

I've tried

When you grow up with narcissistic parents you will reach a point in your life when you realize just how detrimental and exhausting dealing with negativity can be.

I just reached that point, about an hour ago, finally my brother gave me the cherry my ice cream of shit was missing and I stood up for myself, no longer worried about being a good mártir or a worthy daughter. I just want peace but that piece has to start inside of me first.

So here's my word of encouragement to those who suffer in silence and crucify their sanity daily in the name of peace: you are worthy of respect, dignity and love. 

March 2025

Spring is here and my parents moved out of my house. Years back I would have felt devastated, abandoned but today I feel grateful for all the extra time I can spend with my husband and kids, most importantly, taking care of myself.

I started trying to fix my own breakfast, setting reminders to shower, forcing myself to snack and sit in the sun every afternoon but it's not easy.

It's very embarrassing and humiliating when my husband asks me if I have showered, or eaten, especially because I never know if I did either.

The road to recovery looks more like a lowcrawl up a rocky hill but I am determined to be me again. 

First gen American

Many people are now divided and up in arms about immigrants thanks in part for practices and policies that violate human rights and disseminate unethical attitudes and behaviors towards one another.

We live in a fast pace changing world and a culture that is volatile under the heavy winds of influence. 

I say that to express my concern and sadness, yes we came to this country to find better opportunities, to build a better life. Yes, many of our countrymen and women did so the wrong, unlawful way but the hatred all of us face is no joke.

I have been discriminated before, many times but instead of harboring hate towards a specific group of people I understood that there are bad apples in every basket and it is not the basket's fault. We were made different, that is something to be appreciated.

My wish for this nation, for this great nation under God is that we may find peace, first within our hearts, then amongst ourselves, thirdly amongst other nations. 

I know this is not possible for war lives in the heart of men like water inside a tree, yet I pray and continue to hope. 

LIVING WITH PTSD

I have PTSD. That is a fact that I wish I could change about my life. 

I no longer feel normal, nor do I look normal, and I long ago forgot what normal is.

I'm also at the point where I wonder if I need a service dog just to be inside the house.

This is why...

This morning (like any other morning) I woke up around four, that has always been the norm for me since I left home at 18 years old, so I grabbed my little praying mat and my little devotional book and sat on my desk trying to read. My husband saw me, he asked me if I was ok and what I was doing.

After a few pages I heard him rolling around under his weighted blanket (the thing has beads), simultaneously I heard someone walking slowly and heavily towards me. I was so focused on my reading (because concentration is a major task these days) that I didn't bother to turn around. However, I wanted to ask him if he could hear the elephant walking. 

That is when, out of the corner of my eye I caught a very tall figure dressed in all white, standing over my shoulder.

I FLIPPED THE F OUT.

...It was my husband, who I thought was still in bed. 

I cried. I panicked, then I felt angry with myself for not being able to control my reactions. You see, my brain is at war, it thinks everyone and everything is trying to attack and I don't know how to tell it to calm down, to feel safe, to disconnect from violence...

My brain does not feel safe even in my own home and I don't know how to change that.

I wish that was all that happened, but moments later, as I was still blowing my nose into a paper towel in the kitchen my ten year old son walks in telling me my daughter is no where to be found and that she has dissappeared from within the house. AT FOUR IN THE MORNING...

I found her, she was in the bathroom.

No, not everyday is this stupid in my house but little things that others are able to laugh off completely discombabulate me and then I'm destroyed for a few hours; trying to calm down, retracing my steps and figuring out how to "act normal"

Out the window went reading the devotional book, I just cried and told God what feeling broken is like, and the pain of being able to remember who I was before, how I was able to laugh and make friends, how I didn't have to explain myself and left the house in joy, not anguish.

 Mi gente: No pude soportarlo mas y deje de tomar pastillas.

("Pepa y agua pa la seca..."), no esas pastillas.

Los antidepresivos. 

Despues de tratar de convencer a mi psiquiatra en el Army de que estaba mejorando, que ya tenia efectos secundarios, que no era etico ni seguro mantenerme con la dosis maxima... me harte. (By the way: si alguien sabe como sacarle tilde a la E desde un teclado de laptop me avisa).

Los dolores constantes de cabeza, la presion en la cien, el chillido constante silvandome en la parte de atras de mi cerebro, el insomnio y el cansancio cronico me hartaron. Ya a lo ultimo me tomaba media pastilla y quedaba tonta, ida, casi zombie.

Aqui estoy, mi gente, veinticinco dias despues, lidiando con los sintomas y tratando de tener dias de colores en vez de tantos dias grises.

Will tune in soon!