Buckle up, ladies and gentlemen. This is going to be a long blog post.

I put my “Life Anthems” playlist on shuffle to start writing this blog. It’s a list of non- J Rock songs I am putting together. And the first song is “Don’t Fear the Reaper” by Blue Oyster Cult. LOL This song came out the year I was born and it’s been a favorite for most of my life.  I love everything about it- the smooth, harmonious vocals, the guitar, the bass, the drums, even the lyrics and most definitely THE COWBELL.  It’s one of only 3 BOC songs I greatly enjoy. The other two are “Burnin For You” and “Godzilla”.

But I digress. (I say that a lot because I get distracted easily… ADHD)

I’ve been in a giddy mood all day. So much so that my coworker banished me to the cooler. I was not offended. Organizing and stocking is one of my fortes. And I get a much needed break from always being in “customer service mode”. I’m a Gemini, so I’m good with communicating and enjoy helping others, but it’s also very draining to always be wearing that professional mask.

However, this mood of mine isn’t just a “today” thing. I haven’t been this happy in general, for a very long time and it never lasted. At first, I thought it was temporary… that it would fade away and I’d be back to the bitter, jaded, dark minded person I used to be.

It’s been going on for a couple months now. I’m enjoying work. Me. I used to complain so much that I figured people were getting tired of hearing about it.  I was certainly getting tired of feeling that work sucked all the time. It wasn’t work, not all of it. It was me.

I don’t know exactly what changed. I was tired of being miserable with my existence. Maybe it’s finally the grief lifting from losing so many important people and my beloved pets- Miya, Mason, Zakk, Balboa and Brucy… 8 people and my 5 furbabies all since 2015. I internalized a lot of it. I had to disassociate or lose my mind. To many people I appeared cold, devoid of emotion. The only time I felt safe to feel anything was when I put the headphones on and blasted music.

I could no longer scream with Kyo and Hizumi. I couldn’t sing with Luna Sea, Versailles, Daughtry, Breaking Benjamin, Celine Dion, Adele…  I lost my soprano to low alto range. I lost the dream of ever singing any lyrics I tried writing. Talking made my voice tired, my throat ache. Hashimoto’s thyroiditis ruined my voice, my body… and even my mind at times.

I never learned to sing with my own voice. I always matched whoever I was singing with. I have no idea how to harmonize. When I do try singing now, my voice breaks, strains and is airy instead of strong and full. Or worse- it just stops and my throat closes over. The only time my voice actually works is with deep vocals, and even then it’s not great. I have no control, no power behind the notes I am able to reach. I’ve become very good at overly dramatic lip syncing… so there’s that at least.

For a long time (even as recently as this year) I wondered what I’d done in past lives to deserve the pain of this life I’m living now. I thought I was cursed to always be abandoned, used, unloved, unworthy.

But maybe all of my failed relationships, becoming an outcast to most of my family, losing my identity and dreams… maybe those lessons were teaching me what’s really important and guiding me toward a better path. Something that aligns with my soul’s purpose. I have to believe that… because if I don’t, then what was the point of all the suffering I’ve endured? What was the point of the universe making me want to keep living, if I was meant to always fail and hurt? Many times I’ve prayed for the end of it all. Cried in private. Put on one mask after another, just to survive the days and nights.

Love is what is important. Not money, not status. Love. In all its forms. Friendship, child and parent, self love, and yes romantic love. That’s what matters. Unconditional love.

Here in the US, telling someone you love them is overused. And worse, it’s used by some to get what they want from you. That’s not love, it’s control. And sometimes it turns into abuse. The kind that strips your sanity away, changes how you see yourself and the world, steals any scrap of joy you might feel.

That kind of abuse- you don’t see it coming. It’s so gradual you don’t know it’s happening until you look in the mirror and don’t recognize the person staring back at you… self hatred takes over.

You blame yourself for letting it happen. You tell yourself things- that if you were smarter, dumber, thinner, blah blah blah… that they wouldn’t treat you that way.

When I say I’ve endured every kind of abuse there is… I have. But by far (for me), the most damaging kind was mental/emotional. It’s insidious and catastrophic. That’s not to say that physical or sexual abuse is any easier. Just easier to recognize.

The first man to physically abuse me, punched me in my forehead. He was drunk (an alcoholic) and I was four months pregnant with his child. To this day I have an indent in my forehead from his knuckle. I broke up with him that night and only recently have we been able to speak without the poison of the past. He has been sober for over ten months and the relationship with his wife and children with her is better now too. I wish them happiness and harbor no ill will whatsoever toward him or his wife.

The second man to physically abuse me… that night was worse. I sensed the end of the relationship was coming, but I had no idea it would escalate as it did. He accused me of “using big words to make him feel stupid”. It wasn’t intentional, it’s just how I’ve always communicated. He was drunk, perhaps even high on drugs. He punched me in the back of my head twice. Then grabbed me by my hair, swinging me around, slamming me into the wall before throwing me to the floor. I lost count of how many times he kicked me in my back. His mother and her boyfriend stopped him. If they hadn’t I don’t know if I’d still be alive.

Even if they had wanted to continue those relationships, I wouldn’t have done so. I was nobody’s punching bag. It took me a long time to want to care for someone again. After the second man hit me, I stayed out of anything but a casual relationship until I moved to Texas.

I thought Brandon was different. When I met him he was withdrawn, full of self doubt and beaten down by life. And the “fixer” in me wanted nothing more than to help him. Instead I created a monster. I didn’t know that hidden under the mask he showed me was a narcissistic, misogynist.

Until him, the only sexual abuse I had experienced was when I was raped at 21 years old by a former coworker. I didn’t realize that by him not taking no for an answer was considered abuse. I felt obligated to satisfy his needs… and never questioned why I felt disgusting after… self loathing, and wanting only to escape.

The first year and a half of our relationship was good. But things changed so slowly I didn’t even realize it was happening. And I stayed for another six years. I was trapped with no friends… He even pushed James out of our lives. The only friend I had made while living in Texas. I felt like I had nowhere to go and no one I could count on, so I kept everything to myself. Maybe I was imagining things. All relationships go through struggles, right?

Somewhere deep inside I knew the truth. And that part of me began to rebel against his authority. I began to refuse to give in to his desires, I stopped catering to him, doing his laundry and cooking his meals. And oh it made him angry. He never hit me, but he made my life hell in so many other ways. Whatever joy I found, he tried to destroy. But my soul had had enough.

I was half dead, my autoimmune disease ravaging my body and mind. It was only a matter of time before I lost that battle. And the universe stepped in… once again, giving me something to keep fighting for. This time it was painting… a creative outlet I desperately needed. And people to appreciate it, outside of the prison I was barely existing in.

I had many struggles after I left Texas and moved back to Iowa, where I was born. But always there was music and art to help. I had to earn a living by getting a job. In the time I’ve been back in Iowa I’ve worked at a convenience store, then did security for a meat packing plant… and now my second job at a convenience store that I’ve been at for almost 4 years. It’s not a glamorous life. However it is mine to do with what I will.

And now, I know I still have a voice, even if I can’t sing. I have my words. Words have power. Emotions are raw energy. And I intend to speak the truth, no matter how hard it is. I am going to be my authentic self, and those who choose to be part of my life, those I allow to share in my existence, are the ones I claim as my soul family.

For the first time in my life, I’m no longer hiding. I’m no longer a prisoner, a slave. Many have tried to destroy me in various ways. And still I am here… able to love, hope and find joy and meaning in a life that used to be only pain.

If that doesn’t make you believe in the magic of the universe, then I wish you well and we can part ways. But if you want to continue on this journey through life with me- let’s go!

5:40 am US Central time