I’ll let you in on a secret: Thursdays are my favorite day of the week. What about yours?

Why the title? Cuz by “society’s standards?” That’s what I am:

I have Bipolar Disorder with Complex PTSD, use my left hand, am an Aquarius with Scorpio rising, a Sorority girl alum, someone with three degrees, multi-lingual, chubby, royal pain in the ass, probably on the spectrum, obnoxious, and probably have a Traumatic Brain Injury cuz I’ve gotten my head knocked around from a car hitting me and getting thrown into a brick wall. Yup. It was by a “nice” dude who stalked me until I slept with him then went back to the woman almost young enough to be his child. Yet, I was the problem when I pointed out his bad behavior. It’s true my tactics sucked.

And I paid in spades cuz I was given a medication that caused my mind to turn on itself. Yes. I followed the doctor’s orders to get off it: I had a chemically induced psychotic break in Texas during 2006. To say that I was terrified about what was happening to me was an understatement. I also had black out periods where I didn’t know if I had been raped YET AGAIN. That’s a different post. So going back to my apartment scared the shit out of me. The police brought me to a homeless shelter that activated me even more cuz I knew no one and didn’t know if people were going to hurt me.

My thoughts were also racing so fast that I was speaking in what’s called “Word Salad.” This means that you only speak about a third of the words going through your head. As I’ve been on the other side of this, I know what it’s like to try to make sense of this deluge. It’s overwhelming. Heck. All this downloading that I’ve been doing has been hard on me. BUT BUT BUT It’s been awesome cuz it got me to wake up.

I digress.

What was the solution in Texas to handle my psychosis? They shackled me twice to shove medication down my throat and had six orderlies pin me down another time. Being a good girl: I used my teeth to get myself out the first time. And I also took it upon myself to help everyone else to get out of that hell hole. Don’t kid yourself: Hospitals still use literal shackles and overmedicate to ensure compliance.

And the consequences? That experience taught me to fear myself even more than a lifetime of “social programming” that being considered “Crazy” by the go along to get along gang is a fate worse than death. Combine that with the fact that I was sexualized as a child then proceeded to be raped multiple times during my life? And I was brutalized at different times in my life by folks who convinced me that their bad behavior is my fault. This mixed up my responses to their behaviors while not knowing how to act. And I’ve had night terrors that sometimes plague me during the day and wake me from my sleep. So: I absolutely didn’t trust myself.

End result? I despised myself and saw myself as a monster.

Here’s the thing though: I’m an energic blonde with a high voice, blue eyes, and with curves that don’t quit even at my heaviest. This makes me a great trophy rather than fully actualized human. How do I know this? I attract both men and women on the regular. Some of their tactics leave much to be desired.

My coping mechanism was to spin and journal like a motherfucker. I probably figured that if I would surely find the fault within myself to fix it. Living like this is in my head? Kept me off kilter since I was so far removed from my body that it felt completely separate from me. All the sexual assaults didn’t help.

As I returned to Montana for a bazillionth time from Texas, I settled into therapy and support groups. I went from attending support groups to co-facilitating them to help train law enforcement. We taught them how to help individuals with developmental disabilities and/or mental illness and/or addictions during a crisis. It’s based on Memphis Model for the Crisis Intervention Team. I learned things like active listening and verbal de-escalation tactics. This built on the other techniques that I learned working at group home for teenage boy sex offenders.

Yes. I’m rambling at this point for I’m doing what I always do: I’m pulling apart the big picture to figure out the connections.

My conclusion that may or may not be valid upon further investigation? Learning breathwork started to ground me in my body. Taking the time to Layla’s sex magic ritual to be able to turn it into my own? I absolutely loved pulling out the pieces that didn’t work while adding in elements that do. It fully grounded myself into myself based on my own terms. Coming back to my family in Montana also profoundly grounded me in me: It helped me to start forgetting to hate myself cuz I was around people celebrating me just the way that I am: No pretenses or posturing.

Like how I now love curry, turmeric, quinoa, cinnamon, raisins, and nuts in my morning oatmeal.

Now? I’ve made huge strides in learning to love myself. And yes? That B around my neck is my bitch necklace. Do you have any clue how fun it was running around the Christmas Stroll both nights and asking people what it stands for?

And yes… I’m just getting warmed up.

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