I did. And I checked the foundation, and it’s perfect. No cracks, not a single one, and do you know why? Because as a human being I carry all of my cracks.
I’ve been listening to music for weeks now, which if you know me is fairly abnormal, I mostly keep my music to when I’m out walking, but yesterday I took myself out on a self date, and I had a medium to decent cry about some stuff that’s going on, that is…pretty heavy.
They Said I Was Sick – Mental Health Issues – But When I Asked They Couldn’t Tell Me What It Meant. The Diagnosis Had Symptoms, but the Symptoms Didn’t Have a Concrete Diagnosis. – Devon J Hall Loud Mouth Brown Girl
It involves protecting another life, and honestly, I’m tired. I feel like I’m on the battlefield and a lot of people have gone home trying to dissect what they learned, without understanding that when they leave, the battle rages on.
On Letting Go and Re-Understanding
I am talking about mental health of course because I’m always talking about mental health, it felt good to go out yesterday, to Vancouver, to spend some time with myself, but if I’m honest I couldn’t relax. I was super anxious. It had been a while since I’d done a city hike, almost three years, and honestly I let myself focus on the blog so much that I hadn’t really been focusing on my physical health, so while it felt good to stretch the legs, DAMMMMMMMMN am I a weak fat ass lady face these days.
So yesterday while I was out, I ran into an old friend, he smelled like shit, he looked like shit and he told me the most horrific story, another story of neglect, abuse, childhood trauma, and then the weight of being told: “we’d rather blame you than face the reality.” I know how that feels.
I Know From Work Experience, There Are People Who Choose To Live Houseless, But You’ll Never Convince Me A Tent City Is or Can Be A Safe, Healthy, Loving, Home. – Devon J Hall, Loud Mouth Brown Girl
Too many people living houseless in downtown Vancouver taught me a lot yesterday. VPD admitted to finding dozens of guns in tent city, and I walked through everyone was polite, even jovial, laughing and having a good time, but the stench was violent.
A friend told me that inside every single one of those tents is a gun, and while I did see two cops and a handful of city employees, there wasn’t really much halloo about the tent city.
I will say that while I was having a beautiful afternoon, I was fully thinking about Nergina Venkiene, it was from Gastown that I called so many times, a variety of places trying to help my hero escape the Lithuanian government, and now that she’s free, everything just feels so surreal. I was the last one from Anonymous working on her case, and I didn’t even get to meet or speak with her, I don’t know if she knows I exist, but that’s not the point.
There are whole days that go by when I don’t think about her at all, but when I do, it’s always a slam to the brain, a reminder, that someone out there sooo different from me is fighting the same fight from a different angle.
The point isn’t that I exist, to her reality, it’s that I did something to help a woman to help another side of the planet I may never meet, meanwhile there are people here who need my help and I like so many of my neighbors am at a loss as to what to do.
Here at home, younger and younger youth are getting involved in guns and gangs, throwing their futures away because they don’t believe they have one anyways, and somewhere on the other side of the planet, Neringa is just like me, fighting for the rights of children everywhere.
It was a heavy, heavy day, that ended with me having a sit down in front of the bars that protect people from jumping off the roof parking lot where I sat. There was a Brown man named Roger there who gave me his last smoke, so I gave him a love letter. I hope it found you where you needed it to Roger, thank you, you very truly kind man.
There are decisions I make about what is posted on this site because I know people are reading and watching and so sometimes I try to answer some of the questions I’m asked through the blog posts but it doesn’t always work.
I don’t know if you’re all getting the answers you need from me, that you need, but I know I’m trying my best to be someone who can help others find ways to tell their stories, I hope I am Becoming someone who will one day be capable of helping other women, and children, tell their stories, by making it safer to tell our stories.
I know there are people who hate me because I exist, i can’t help that, all I can say is that if your hatred of me is greater than the desire to protect a child from having done to them what happened to us, then I hope you figure out your shit because that sounds to me like y’all need some therapy.
People are dying. This is not a fucking game. Maybe you’ve gotten used to people dying, but when I look at men like Nipsy Hustle or the men and women who were murdered in Langely I can’t see any reason as to why any of these shootings needed to take place so maybe I don’t understand as much as God, or maybe God agrees and that this is bullshit.
It’s bullshit that you hate me more than rapists and pedophiles, and if you’re only response is “but you went to the cops,” I’d like you to remember THAT MORE THAN 50 CHILDREN WERE RAPED IN ONE SUMMER IN THE SAME FUCKING HOUSE BY THE SAME MEN.
That’s what I learned on my self-date last night and honestly? There’s only more to come. I told you. It’s never, EVER going to happen again.
So I mean you do that with what you need to, I’mm be over there trying to keep that promise.
Sending all my love,
Devon J Hall
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