Lately I’ve been dealing with some real intense shit.. I really can’t explain the complexity of the issues I’ve been encountering and in the midst of it all I still don’t feel the desire to complain about it but more inspired to move forward.

Just to give you a gist of the laundry list of shit I’ve been dealing with it reads like this:


Mental illness

Unresolved relationship issues

and the great mind fuck known as Cancer.,

It’s a lot to fucking balance between work, parenting, writing and all the side grinds I pursue but I do it..

Most of the things on my list are more or less resolvable or simply out of my control but I will address the betrayal. Maybe betrayal isn’t the right word.. The context to which I’m using it feels wrong but I do feel emotionally betrayed.

Here’s why. It may be a little long but hang in here with me while I purge..

People think that because I’m an only child I was privy to a certain way of life.. Stereotypes like spoiled and selfish are often invalid adjectives associated with my character. Please note that I worked fucking hard to get where I am today.. While I appreciate the assistance I got to degree from my parents you better believe I had to work my ass off for that. I was a single mom often without financial, emotional or parental assistance. I’m proud of who I have grown into but I would be lying if I said I didn’t make some mistakes, some bad judgement calls, some poor choices. So I don’t pretend to be better, know better than or live better than anyone. I know that my journey in life is about constant growth and change..

At 48 I am still being molded into some great masterpiece and I can’t wait until it’s complete.. so recently when my father revealed he didn’t trust me I was floored. I could have taken it lightly and simply blamed it on an onset of dementia because he must be going fucking crazy or I could accept it as his truth, as my truth, as our truth. When I asked him why he proceeded to bring up an incident that happened over 25 years ago. An incident to which I have been remorseful and amended with the person I offended.. oh yeah did I mention that the incident he is referring to was regarding someone else and had no effect on him directly AND after all these years he kept that little skeleton in his pocket so that he could use it as a dagger to stab me with in a conversation over an incident that didn’t even involve me. Is that betrayal? I don’t know but that shit hurt..

I felt foolish..ya know? All this time i was bragging and boasting about how I was able to build a stronger relationship with my father after years of ups and downs.. After continuous pettiness, we were able to move to better place, a good place even a great place if you had asked my 24 hours ago.. Now I’m feeling like he just blew smoke up my ass to make himself feel better when all the while he fucking thinks the worst of me..

After I took a moment to digest the conversation I had with my father as he tried to justify his feelings towards me.. I hung up the phone. Yes I hung up on my dad.. I refused to continue a conversation that simple would ignite a bigger flame of fury.

But then I began to question everything.. I began to over analyze my life, my existence..Examining the relationship my parents had that brought me into being. I reflected on how they met on a blind date, hooked up, slipped up and were forced into a shotgun marriage. I can’t tell you how many times I heard my father was engaged to someone else when he got my mom pregnant and how my great uncles forced him to marry my fast ass mother.. that’s how you don’t start a life..

I’ve always felt that burden of virtually fucking up my parents life.. and they for the most part made it apparent that I had done just that..My mother once commented to a family member who expressed concern for me during my adolescence for not having proper supervision and nurturing to which she responded “Toni may grow up and say fuck me, so I’ve gotta look out for me.” Imagine how that made me feel… My father often referred to his budding career as a musician and how he gave that up to be a father and husband against his will..

I grew up where secret and lies were the basis for family dynamics.. Where gossip and descent preceded health and well-being. I was on a constant mission to prove I was worthy because love from my parents came with conditions. I’m not saying my parents didn’t love me but it was an obligated love..

But today at 48 I’m learning to be okay with not being a life changing moment.. I’ve accepted that my life was not a blessing but a burden. And while we are not always a purpose we ALL have one.. I’m trying to fulfill mine. I blogged all this to say…. my circumstances do not define me.. I define my circumstances.. I am inclined to remove the toxins in my life even if I was born into a toxic situation.. Having purged my current state of mind into this post I feel better..

I get me now more than ever.. myself awareness is so heightened..Simply in the idea of knowing who I don’t want to be….

I have forgiven even though I am amongst the UNFORGIVABLE!!!