Loud Mouth Brown Girl

I’m talking about the Mental Health spectrum.

I am on the spectrum. I don’t know precisely where I fit, but I know that years of trauma, abuse, neglect, ignorance, and outright hatred by folks who should have protected me, turned me into a person on the Mental Health Spectrum.

Each of us on the spectrum, needs to stop every now and then and take stock of where we are, and what we’re doing with where we are, so that we know that we’re on the right path.

Having mental health issues is very much like that scene in Maid, when she’s curled up in a ball in the hole, and she can’t even fathom trying to get out, because there is no escape unless she gives up everything she has, on the off chance she might, get something better.

And she does. Eventually she gets up, figures out a path, and starts cultivating a life for herself outside of her abuser.

That’s the part that I want to live. I want to live the part where I outgrow my abusers, and where they can no longer hurt me or cause me harm not even through my memories.

It’s such a struggle to watch my friends get married and live happily ever after, because part of me – a tiny, child like part of me – screams “I want that,” and the other half of me, the one more aware of danger, of anxiety, depression, and abuse, screams “Not in a million fucking years.”

Dealing with life after trauma is not like ripping a band-aid off and hoping the wound doesn’t bleed. It’s knowing full well that when you rip the band-aid off, it’s going to fucking bleed.

The question you have to ask yourself is are you prepared to deal with the blood?

And I don’t mean the red mucus that escapes when we cut ourselves, I mean the deeply rooted emotional issues that come with living on this fucking planet.

Are you ready? Because I wasn’t, I had to swim or drown and I chose to find a way to anchor myself to something so that I wouldn’t die.

You and Loud Mouth Brown Girl gave me that, it gave me the chance to rise and to create something so that I could write about what I was going through and then go back and analyze what I’ve written so I can acknowledge whatever I need to acknowledge.

The problem is I can’t bring myself to go back to look at old posts, because so much of what I wrote was written by the mind of a person who wasn’t well. Who wasn’t taking care of themselves, who didn’t know how to take care of themselves, and from the perspective of someone who had literally lost their fucking mind, in the process of trying to figure out who they were.

I still don’t fully know who I am and I am 41 years old, but that’s because I’ve spent my whole life trying to mold myself into being someone that other people would find approachable, or interesting, or cool enough to not abuse.

For the first time in my life I have friends who respect my boundaries, who listen when I need them to, who lean on me without expecting that I’m going to be willing to fall in order to prop them up and I don’t know how I feel about it.

If I’m being honest finding stability after so many years of feeling like I was wandering without a compass.

For the last seven years, LMBG has been my compass, as long as I’ve had this website everything has been okay. Not great, not perfect, not always beautiful, but at least its been okay.

I would like for twenty-twenty five to be my year. I would like it to be the year that I put LMBG on the map and do big things for the women in my community who believe no one is hearing them when they speak.

Too many people – especially women of color – go ignored when they seek help. I would very much like to be a part of putting a stop to that reality.

I can do that, but I’d very much like your help…so whose with me?

Sending all my love,