We all wonder
am I worthy?
deserving of love?
Be the love
and you shall receive
love in return.
You are worthy
of all the love
you are willing to give.
We all wonder
am I worthy?
deserving of love?
Be the love
and you shall receive
love in return.
You are worthy
of all the love
you are willing to give.
Healing and caring for others are two of the many passions of an empath. Empaths have a way of projecting positivity and love in such a way that leaves them feeling drained because they are not given the same love and positivity in return from many people. They try to refrain from negative talk and gossip because they know that no good comes from this sabotaging behavior. They are constantly advocating for other lives and putting their own on the back burner. Empaths forgive those who hurt them endlessly because they want to believe in the potential of others, not realizing that this failure to burn bridges, in fact, takes away from their own healing (or they are simply willing to sacrifice their peace for the well-being of another).
How paradoxal is it that empaths most often tend to be the ones who have experienced life’s lowest lows– self-hate, self-sabotage, judgement, rejection and abuse at the hands and words of others– yet we want so badly for others to feel worthy and whole?
Roses produce thorns to protect their glorious beauty from being utterly destroyed, yet empaths welcome those suffering, lost souls or even predators of spirit– all at the cost of our inner peace. Perhaps that’s the beauty of empaths– to show the beauty in the world even when they don’t feel it at times themselves. Still, as selfless as this may seem, empaths too, must be willing to burn the bridges with those who do not desire to embrace the beauty of the universe which we inhabit. For if these souls do not wish to see the beauty and positive energy flowing through our very existence, then they are the negative energy which we cannot continue to eternally feed at the expense of positivity.
I never once thought I might be the type to enjoy the process of nursing a wilting plant back to health, but now I find myself wishing I would’ve adopted this so-called hobby years ago.
One thing I should note is that I used to despise pests of any archetype. Need not discriminate, every single bug, mouse or any other creature was petrifying to me. Living in Hawaii the past four years has been been one of the biggest challenges of my life. Hold on. I know what you’re probably thinking. “Poor thing. Must be a tough life living in the sunshine year-round, not dealing with chaotic, relentless drivers on the interstate every morning, and living island-style.”
Don’t get me wrong, it is beyond beautiful; however, as a pest-fearing human this was an absolute mentally and emotionally daunting reality learning to courageously take on the island critters. If you’re brave, conduct a Google search of Hawaiian centipedes. I DARE you! If you cringe at the thought of a spider or cockroach, then I suggest your spare yourself of the potential nightmares to follow if you go searching for such traumatizing photos on the internet.
Anyways, my favorite plant, aloe vera, was not the one I would have anticipated to be my most-treasured plant. When I got her, she looked weak and ready to die. Initially, I doubtfully watered her every once in a while, not even knowing how to properly nurture an aloe vera plant. I actually had accepted that her inevitable death was more than likely upon her.
Little by little, week by week, she surprised me. I thought it was my subconscious mind playing tricks on me.
In reality, she was becoming a bit greener every day. The once brown, brittle edges of her leaves eventually faded and she was alive! This whole experience has not only made me appreciate plants and Earth’s life more than in the past, but has made me realize that, much like plants, we need to water our souls so we can heal ourselves from the inside-out. Neglecting our soul is potentially even more damaging to our health than not providing our bodies with adequate and sufficient nutrition and exercise.
Surround yourself with positive souls who will provide the nutrients or vibrations that you so desperately need to survive. Absorb positivity. Be present in your emotions and reason (without the need of justification) through them so you can soak in the lessons throughout your journey in life. Be on a constant search toward faith or spirituality that plants hope and grace in your mind, body and soul.
Soak it all in ♥
Depression is difficult enough to cope with. Top that with seemingly endless trauma and there you have it: A basket case.
Before you read too far into the statement above, I promise I am ok. I still get out of bed. I still perform my daily motherly duties. I still cook and clean. I still have dreams and aspirations. I do not hate my life. In fact, I live a good life, though it could always be better. I am engaged to an amazing man who I consider myself so lucky to be able to settle down with. I have healthy, happy children who continue to thrive. I have a roof over my head and food in the (cold) refrigerator.
On the flip side, I’ve been going through a divorce for over two years. I feel fragile and traumatized by my ex who simply ridicules me and continues to tear me down regardless any orders the judge imposes to protect me. I receive messages saying “fuck you, you’re a bitch, a whore, can’t think for yourself [,etc].” Hell, I was even told that he “hopes I would die” when I was in labor and excited to meet our youngest blessing. What a great legal and justice system we have. A system that has zero regard to my mental and emotional health. “That’s the consequence of marrying and having children with the guy,” many will say, as if to imply that a human being deserves to be belittled and torn down. I wouldn’t wish this treatment, let alone this type of “support” system on my worst enemy.
My best friend, who I considered and still consider to be more of a soul sister, a relation and connection that ascends beyond the physical plane, committed suicide. Not only that– I only found out she committed suicide when I tried to reach out to her and ask her to be a part of my wedding planning and be in the wedding. Instead, when I didn’t get a response from her message, I went looking for answers as to why she was avoiding me. (R.I.P, best friend. We shall meet again ♥ .)
Battling my self-worth has been the most difficult part of this. It’s hard to look in the mirror, it’s hard to sleep. It’s hard to smile and laugh. Don’t get me wrong, as I mentioned previously, I still get up and handle business, but don’t think that means that this trauma, coping, and simply trying to live on doesn’t get hard. The baggage gets so heavy. People say move on or get over it, not realizing that the stigma of mental health is what continues to thrash, burn and worst of all, silence sufferers. Depression makes it impossible to see any worth in one’s self at all. Mothers begin to believe that they are burdening their children, people in general feel that they are burdening their families or even society in general. Students, athletes and performers feel that they aren’t good enough. Worst of all, no one on the outside even has the slightest clue.
“It could be worse.” I. Hate. That. Statement. Whether true or not is irrelevant. These are the words that send a vulnerable person over the edge when they are already emotionally at rock bottom. Please don’t say that. Moral of the story: Stop stigmatizing depression and mental health in general. Not everyone can simply snap out of a dull moment. If you can, congratulations, here’s your high-five. I challenge you to be strong for the vulnerable and, most of all, be present with those suffering. Mental health stigma (NOT mental health) is a slippery slope that consequently burdens all of society with tragedy, misery and despair. Let’s fight that. Let’s support one another and mend the flaws of society together, rather than alone. Much like scars, moles, and birthmarks we can embrace what some may consider to be flaws and realize that each of us are unique and have much to offer no matter how different we may be.
It’s been a minute– a minute that I so desperately needed. I needed to be able to find solace in my new home, which I’m still actively seeking. Some people do great with adjusting to changes, but I’m not one of those people unfortunately. Every new sound– such as the creaking of the window AC unit kicking into gear– wakes me burdening me with insomnia. Disruptive dreams of which make absolutely no sense leave me wondering if there’s some hidden meaning throughout the following days and weeks.
Nature seems so distant suddenly although it’s normally the only thing in this world grounding me from my inner chaos. I feel naked and ashamed, yet I know that no one sees the rawness and vulnerability I’m feeling on the inside. There’s no feeling of loneliness quite like being surrounded by people who don’t understand you and don’t sense your pain and suffering.
Is this how things were before she chose to end it all? Even silence becomes so loud. There’s no peace in any of it. Why can’t I be like everyone else and just let. it. go?
I know why.
I can’t accept that depression and suffering is so frowned upon in our society. We’ve made half-assed efforts for reform of our system in regard to mental health, but even myself, in this very moment, find myself afraid to post anything on social media that is transparent of my emotions because I know people will judge, rather than reach out and show the smallest bit of concern or love. My best friend is gone because of this and I can’t help but hate everyone, including myself for that.
Why won’t we fight harder?
Money. Everybody wants it. Some have a lot and some have only a little, but our desires have no cap or limitation. In fact, our desires tend to exceed our cash, savings, and assets. When loved ones pass away, money and inheritance often become a point of tension among remaining family members.
How is it that humans have been able to give paper so much value? Trees literally provide us with all the oxygen we need, yet we opt to destroy the very lifeline that breathes oxygen into our lungs. Why can’t the gift of life be sufficient?
Last week, as my younger brother, Sam, was preparing for board a plane to return to the mainland, I took my daughter and son to a nearby beach to (finally) witness a beautiful Kona sunset. I’ll include a picture below, but please be aware that I’m no professional when it comes to photography.. or anything for that matter. ANYWAYS, I will never forget my thoughts as I took in the beautiful sight of the falling sun.
I must be honest. Due to events throughout my life I’ve been coping with a loss of faith for as long as I can remember. I want to believe more than anything in this world, but it’s seemed so unlikely that any creator truly exists. Yet this doubt in the existence of any god didn’t stop me from hoping that somehow, somewhere, God could be looking down on us as all appreciating us the way that we appreciate a beautiful sunset or the twinkling stars. (If nature is not your thing, I totally hope there’s a god who appreciates you as much as you appreciate your favorite gangsta rap song, horror film, etc.)
End Note: I failed to publish a post weekly as I initially pledged to do. My apologies. Life has been full of chaos and transition of which I will soon provide you with updates on.
I haven’t mentioned it, but I’ve been going through divorce for going on two years. I have devoted myself to being honest and transparent, so for all you people that have been through any form of abuse in any relationship– whether emotional, physical, verbal, mental, sexual, or any other form– I feel for you. There’s nothing like it. It shreds your soul (or what’s left of it). You cease to believe in yourself and at a certain point it begins to feel like you don’t even exist. Your body no longer feels like it belongs to you. Hell, I’ve been there. What has left me feeling most defeated is that I feel as if I’ve failed to protect my children before they even took their first breath.
Some people will never understand the struggle. Lucky them. The struggle of overcoming abuse of any type or degree is unlike any other. You have to learn how to get out of bed again. You have to learn how to value your health again. You have to basically re-wire your brain. I’ve figured out how to change a car tire and battery and I’ve even learned how to repair a dishwasher and washer (with the assistance of Youtube), but even as mechanically-inclined as I am I still can’t credit myself for putting together the messy, damaged, (pinot grigio-stained?) pieces of this puzzle we call “life.”
What I can say is rock bottom isn’t so bad. And by not so bad, I simply mean it’s not as bas as I thought it would be. That is when I finally got used to it. I’ve lost friends that I imagined would be the ones planning my funeral someday. Yeah, I know– shouldn’t be thinking about such morbid matters, but I can’t help but hope that someone will know to ensure that my eyeliner and lashes are on point and some country, rock and gangsta rap music is played because I’ll be damned if my people are going to spend their time crying and screwing up their eyeliner because of me. Nope. Not having it. The point is, I’ve lost many key supporters in my life… yet here I am… still here…still living. Life goes on. What this means is keep fighting to evolve toward greatness and happiness so those losers can see what they missed out. Forgive, but never forget. As a matter of fact, forgive now because those people don’t deserve your energy nor a place in your mind and heart.
I also want to note that coping is a rather odd phenomenon. It comes in waves of a multitude of different emotions and mechanisms. My way of coping may consist of drinking wine and watching soaps. It also may mean watching Forensic Files or How to get Away with Murder. Other times I stay up literally all night long and Google– I mean research– different theories on what happens after death. Billie Eilish sings about this in “Bury a Friend,” so at least I’m not the only freak that intently thinks about grotesque things.
Never will I consider myself a victim, but a survivor of circumstances that were and are temporary. Every day I strive to be better and do better. We have to love ourselves first before we can provide proper love and support to others. Personally, even when my depression peaks, I set goals to keep myself moving forward. For example, while I was still in college I told myself that my life cannot cease until I completed school. I know this sounds extreme, but extra is me– I am extra. Now I tell myself that I cannot cease to exist until I get a career and set my children up for a sustainable, happy, and successful future. Foundation is everything (yes, makeup, too). I used to think there was something wrong or dangerous about such a way of thinking, however, I now realize that it is simply human instinct to seek to complete various goals (and one at a time), which ultimately benefit their offspring and those around them.
Rock bottom is a place where I find that I am beautifully broken. I am able to withdraw from the material things in the world and connect with the universe on a deeper, more primitive level. With this, I find that my trauma was not only imminent in the negative sense, but worthwhile in a sense that I feel more like a human being with a beating heart, which radiates love to all. In spreading love past affairs or failures don’t mean a thing. In this I find unshakable tranquility. With this, I find myself believing with every atom in my body that everything is just the way it’s supposed to be. ♥
It’s been about a week since I last checked in, so I figured I might as well share what’s been going on. Honestly, I feel really freaking drained; emotionally, spiritually, mentally, and physically. No amount of sleep could even begin to relieve this level of exhaustion. It appears that I’ve come down with a case of graduation syndrome (yes, it’s a real thing–at least Google says it is– so it must be right?) So without further ado, here are the significant events of the last 7 days.
My kid(s) broke my smart T.V.
My son thew his cup at it because… well apparently he wasn’t pleased with watching “Paw Patrol” while mama tried to apply for jobs and figure out how the hell my lack of experience could appeal to any company. Upon, reflection, I realize that I indeed do bring a lot to the table outside of experience, so it’s their loss. But back to the point: R.I.P. my beloved T.V. You deserved so much better. I cannot believe that the kid(s) fractured your LCD. I tried to save you, but the trauma you endured was enough, so may you rest easy. P.S. Thank God this season of Vanderpump Rules just ended or I would’ve been one unhappy camper. On the other hand, maybe it was for the best. I mean everything does happen for a reason according to everyone else. Maybe the fitness gods were trying to force me to get off the couch and hit the gym. Maybe I was supposed to actually clean the house or catch up on laundry. Unfortunately, that wasn’t enough, so maybe next week.
My (soon to be but I consider him) ex ranted and raved at me on the phone during the time which was intended for him to talk to his children
To all you younger people out there. Don’t rush and get married. I know it seems like the right thing, but please don’t. Second, listen to your freaking parents. Yes they’re annoying more often than not. Yes they have an opinion about absolutely everything. It’s all because they don’t want you to end up like me. No they don’t find pleasure in stalking you and asking what seem to be questions that cross the line. I know it doesn’t seem like it, but they actually would love to not have to supervise you constantly. They miss having a life. Trust me… Or you can ignore everything I’m telling you and end up with an absolute twat who will offer you nor your future children squat in life. None. Nada.
If you’re in an unhappy or unhappy relationship, LEAVE NOW OR FOREVER LACK YOUR PEACE. This is the sign you’ve been waiting for.
I scheduled my first job interview
This is certainly exciting, however, with a lack of work experience it will be interesting trying to sell myself– does that sound dirty or do I just have dirty humor? No, I’m not starting a journey as Jenny on the block. I’m talking a professional interview for a real-life job. AKA…I’m adulting.
I’m committing to actually (re?)starting my fitness journey this weekend
About time, right? I must admit I’ve had enough of looking down on my stomach wondering if some sort of divine miracle took place which resulted in me being pregnant again. I’ve been an angel, so it would indeed have to be some kind of divine action. That’s just my crazy mind trying trying to justify the 15ish pounds that I have gained while stuffing my face with cookies and ice cream hoping my last semester would end before my life. Unfortunately, I know longer have school as an excuse for my puffed-up status.
Well, that’s all folks. Hope you have one hell of a Memorial Day weekend. Remember to honor those who fought for our freedom. Take a shot for our heroes!
Oh, and here’s a picture of my t.v.
Hello all ♥ I’m Sabrina and I have decided to take the leap into the real world. I tend to arrive ‘fashionably’ late to everything and unfortunately completing my college degree wasn’t any different. Actually, it should be noted that I have done absolutely nothing in my life the traditional way– so cheers to all you rebels out there! Enjoy the hell you raise while you still can.
Anyways, I graduated a couple weeks ago, Halle-freaking-lujah! I must say that graduating wasn’t quite as exciting as I thought it would be. In fact, it was quite the opposite. I realize, as most of us do, that the days of running wild on campus were definitely taken for granted. You expect to have some newfound respect from others, but come on guys– it’s mid-2019 and the expectations of the real world are impossible to meet. Universe>Sabrina..
On a more serious note, this realization I have finally come to in my late twenties (wrinkles and grey hair TBA) that the world will always tell me that I’m not good enough will always try to hinder my progress and growth. The soul mission of this blog is to document and address the many challenges the real world presents to those who screw up throughout their journey. It may not be pretty, but I vow to make it authentic and real.