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Reflection: Mr.Toxic is well not Toxic

So it’s no secret if you have been reading my blog that I have been calling the guy that I’ve been involved in a tumultuous situationship with- TOXIC. Most of the time, when I describe him to people, I talk about him being terrible, bad, and Toxic. Now, I’m not excusing his behavior that at times has been detrimental to me and has made me feel unsafe BUT I realized the other day-he’s just a person. He’s a person with many issues and trauma. I had this tendency to blame him  for a lot of my issues instead of taking accountability for my part in our toxic situationship.  I really had to look at myself in an honest way and I realize how easy it is to blame him or make him the villain of our tumultuous situationship. It was easy to write all of this poetry and these journal entries about him about how he treated me like shit. What has not been easy is admitting my own part. Admitting that I had my own toxic patterns and  issues that I brought to our situationship. That  he really showed me who he was at first and instead of really seeing him,I did what I almost always do in relationships;I fell in love with his potential and for the person I wanted him to be. He has ghosted me and  broken communication with me so many times and that shit hurt my soul.  However, I’ve also lied to him and gone crazy on him more times than I can count. I’ve gone to his house for the sole purpose of yelling at him and  I lied to him for a year and a 1/2 about the fact that I was in another relationship. And he’s forgiven me time again and time again. I’m not proud or saying that I deserve the shitty way he’s treated but I have to admit that I’ve been almost equally as shitty to him. 

 I would also complain that he’s an alcoholic but guess who often brought him the beer . It was me, I was the enabler. So while it would still be easy to call him toxic or bad I really don’t think he deserves that title. I think that like most of us he’s trying to do his best with his issues and sometimes that best can look shitty to other people. And I don’t want people to think I’m idolizing him. I think that I’m really taking a hard honest look at myself and at him at this point. I’m trying to make sense and find peace with this situation with him. There is an appeal of going back to him continually and while it has to do with this intense chemistry and the amazing and mind blowing sex; it has to do with much more than that. The other night when I saw him he told me he felt like he didn’t belong anywhere and it’s strange how much I relate to that. Also, we both get how dark we can be, how irrational and crazy we both can be and it doesn’t scare either of us away. We just accept that part without promises or expectations of anything that resembles a relationship or commitment to each other. The other night we both agreed we possibly won’t ever be ready for a relationship with each other or with other people. We both feel too damaged beyond repair to ever be of any good to anyone in a romantic way. I used to hate myself for caring about him,  or going back to him BUT I’m done doing that. It’s been a long and hard 3 year journey to get here: peace and acceptance.  Instead, I forgive him and myself for past wrongs and learn to enjoy the fun and crazy times we share.  Or as my mom says, live for the moment. With him, it really is living life on the borderline.  

us in late 2018

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Poetry: She Flew

I wrote this poem in February of 2006 when my mother in law passed away suddenly. I knew for a short time but she was one of the most gracious and kindest individuals I ever met.

She flew one afternoon without warning

To a place unknown 

Why did she have to fly?

Was it really her time?

And now everyone left behind 

has  puddles dripping from their eyes

Why did she have to fly?

Was it really her time?

Regrets and remorse

Have become our two worlds

Why did she have to fly?

Was it really her time?

No fancy words could ever express

How it feels to lose your best

Why did she have to fly?

Was it really her time?

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Poetry: Don’t

I wrote this poem 2002 and it was yet another poem inspired by the bio dad of my oldest child. For many years. I had so much unresolved rage and anger about how he abandoned my son and used poetry as a way to process it.

Don’t even try to understand me

You don’t even know me

I was born with your DNA

But to you, I have nothing to say

I once was a babe, a boy

And now a man

Don’t pretend to give a damn

I’ve done grown up to become

A man unlike you that doesn’t run

No thanks to you “Dad” 

You left when I was a mere lad 

So please go on on your way

I can’t stand the sight of you

Another day

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Poetry: In the ICU

I wrote this poem in 2018 when my grandmother passed away. She was in the ICU for about a week before she passed and it was tough on the family.

Me with my Grandmother in 2015 or 2016

She lies between this world and the next

She can’t decide between her husband 

 Or her kids 

She is tired, she is drained, she is 94

She lies between this world and the next

She needs to let her body decide a final rest

But her spirit wants to stay 

withinIn the cocoon of her family

She lies between this world and the next

She slowly feels her ancient and battered body 

Give up…. 

It is tired of the endless pain

And her spirit

slowly agrees

And 

Lets her leave in peace to the heaven that is him

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Poetry: Another Pathetic Guy

I wrote this funny poem after a really bad date in 2001. I was obviously very salty at the time.

I write the same pathetic poem

  about another pathetic guy

From the first conversation 

  you didn’t seem to have an ounce of promise

  With your arrogant way of talking

but I decided to give you a chance anyways

But little would I know

  how you would try to make me feel

 Like some ignorant ho

Little would I know

I would enjoy your landlord’s company

  more than your own

Never had I seen 

  how arrogant somebody could be

Never had I felt 

  such repulse towards a male

Never will I see

  a future between you and me

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Poetry: The Jungle Part 2

I wrote this about the PULSE club shooting in 2016.

Everyone claims thoughts and prayers

For those they sprouted 

Hatred against (just a few days ago)

Only because of their untimely 

Deaths.

If they had gone 

On living -they would 

Have continued to be 

Hated by most–

Now they are loved 

And remembered and

Prayed for in the their death 

Because they are dead.

It’s too late for you

Prayers warriors, you

Religious zealots and

bigots , your prayers 

And love falls on 

Angry ears, ears of 

The victims families , ears 

Of their loved ones, ears

Of the LATINX,Puerto Rican, 

LGBTQ Community

People who weren’t  

Given two fucks about 

Or treated with hatred 

Because your Bible told 

You so. 

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Story: The Ocean

List of pros I made when Mr.Toxic ghosted me in late 2019

I wrote this in the summer of 2019 when Mr.Toxic had once again ghosted me. I think so much of me was obsessed with him because of the chaos he brought into my life. Also, even though I hate to admit it, he brought so much inspiration to my life that I ended up writing over 50 pages of poetry/ mini stories about him. He was my muse for a while and I think I became addicted to him.

There once was a girl and she fell in love with the ocean. The ocean engulfed her with its salt smell, and the warmth of the water on late nights. The girl swam and swam, deeper and deeper into the ocean-loving it more each day. One day the ocean got tired of the girl and decided to make the biggest wave to throw her back to the land. When the girl woke on land, she was disoriented, confused, lost and hurt. She wondered if her late night swims had been a beautiful and hopeless dream. So a few weeks went by and the girl returned to her normal reality of her every day . She went through her normal routine even though her heart hurt-she slowly recovered from the crash of the ocean and just as she was almost to her normal self. The ocean decided to call her back again. At first, she couldn’t believe it-she thought her ears were deceiving her-but it was clear that the ocean wanted her to swim in it again-for whatever reason. The girl felt special and lucky and even though she was hesitant -she swam again in the ocean. This time -it was deeper and more intense. She felt at one with the ocean. She felt honored to learn all of its secrets and was completely enthralled by it. She was finally beginning to feel safe and so vulnerable she started to float and let the ocean carry her. All of a sudden the ocean got tired and threw her again-this time the crash was way more devastating . It felt like she couldn’t breathe at times. She knew that she should deal better since this had happened once before but this time she cried more than ever. She felt worthless and used in every sense of the word. She wondered what sin she had committed that the universe had handed her such unimaginable and tremendous pain. It was hard this time to get back to normalcy. It was hard for her to go about her day and not burst into tears because her poor heart would spasm when something brought back the memory of the ocean. And then the process repeated itself a few more times. It was more exhausting and devastating each time. It’s like she couldn’t learn and see how damaging the ocean was to her soul. Finally there was a time where it was so brutal the girl finally learned to tune out the ocean’s song and she never swam again. 

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Childhood Memory: 1986

Me around the age of 5, shortly before immigrating to the States

I was standing on one side of a closed door and I heard a conversation that I will never forget. I remember being five years old and running such a high fever that my vision started to get blurry and I had a massive headache. I remember the loud whispering between my parents. My father wanted to take me to the hospital, my mother argued they couldn’t because it was too much money. It was something that my newly arrived immigrant family could not afford. I remember that was the first time I felt something extremely heavy within me. I didn’t know then what it was but it would be the first time of many times I would feel that guilt of being a burden to my parents. Eventually it would turn into a certain type of guilt that made me swallow words and feelings so I wouldn’t inconvenience anyone. I have carried this guilt within me throughout since I can remember.This is a quiet BPD trait. This trait would lead me to becoming a people pleaser later on in life. As I have gotten older, I’ve gotten more aware of this and have become more assertive in making my needs known and met. I’m still not where I want to be but at least I’m way better than I use to be.

Below are a couple of links about Quiet BPD:

https://themighty.com/2018/12/quiet-borderline-personality-disorder-bpd-signs-child/

https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/living-emotional-intensity/202107/what-is-quiet-bpd

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Here We Go Again: Delta Edition

So I’ve been in denial for the past few weeks. I haven’t been keeping up with the COVID numbers as I usually do and have been ignoring the news about this new Delta variant of COVID. Last year, COVID basically consumed most of my life since I was an essential worker for the Department of Public Health and Kroger. 

me in April 2020

It was basically an adrenaline rush that kept going strong with constant policy changes at both jobs until October/November  and there was peace and almost going back to normalcy until late December when the COVID vaccination phases started. During this time, this took a toll on the mental health of me and my fellow coworkers. There were times that were so dark for me, that I wondered on some mornings if it  would be the day I would be committed to the psych ward.

me in August 2020 on one of my worst mental health days

However, I was super fortunate to have support from friends and my then supportive partner during that awful time.  I was also seeing Mr.Toxic who was my pandemic buddy who I would freak out with every time something new happened with the virus. Up until a few weeks ago, things had basically gone back to normal at both my jobs. Masks were basically a thing of the past (well for us that are fully vaccinated) and I wasn’t getting any calls about Covid. 

Me in May of this year when Masks were no longer mandated at my second job

That changed this past week when once again the numbers are rocketing out of control with the Delta Variant. I also started getting calls again about Covid at my DPH job and once again masks have enforced for all employees at both of my jobs

August 2021-Here we go again

At this point I’m honestly anxious about quite a few things:

  1. How long before school goes remote? I’m particularly worried about my 10 year old who is a social butterfly and hates remote learning. Also, all of these constant changes and transitions from in person to online learning cannot be good for the kiddos. I imagine therapy will be needed at some point for some of these kids.
  2. I will be facing this COVID surge without the support of a romantic love interest this time around. I’m kind of anxious about how I will cope but then again I really have no choice in this matter. Idk. Then again, I am lucky in having a great support system with my friends and my family and now my therapist. I’m also more determined to turn to my set of healthier coping mechanisms (DBT, journaling, exercising , writing, etc.) which I hope helps me stay away  from my usual unhealthy coping mechanisms (alcohol,binge shopping, dating apps, etc). 
  3.  Will there ever come a point where COVID does become like the flu or will this stupid virus keep mutating and keep getting more contagious? Will we as a society ever get back to a sense of real normalcy?

It will be interesting to see how all of this will play out with the new surge. I hope that the new administration will be way more proactive than the previous one. I also hope that mental healthcare  ends up being more accessible to the general population because a lot of us will need it. 

Below is the link for the COVID related post from last year:

https://rejectingstagnationafter.wordpress.com/2020/04/20/eliza-conquers-being-essential/
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Poetry: Soulmate

I wrote this little gem of a cringy poem in 1996 when my ex boyfriend tried to get back with me when I was already in a relationship with another dude. Sad thing is that when I broke with the dude I was dating, I did go back to my ex and it was terrible. It would be a pattern of relationship choices that would follow into adulthood.

Me with a friend circa 1996

Why did you show up at such a bad time?
A time when I’m with someone who might be the one
Who is to me all the things you couldn’t be
I don’t want to hurt you but I feel nothing for you
And you might get pissed I need to say this
I don’t love you anymore,
So there’s the door
if you really love me so,you would let me go
For it’s too late, I’ve found my soulmate

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Poetry : I Hate to Whine

I wrote this poem in 2001 after a really horrible breakup with the second “S” who cheated on me with ex wife the entire time he was with me. Needless to say, I was super angry about this and being the 20 year old I was at that time included lots of cringy cliches in this poem. The upside to this that at least I didn’t go slash his tires. Lol.

me at age 20

I hate to whine
but you were a waste of time
I didn’t think you were such a creep
and that I could feel a heartache so deep
It’s a profound and constant pain
Your devious face is etched in my brain

I hate to whine
but I was looking for a sign
That you were my soulmate
Not someone who’d fill me with hate
That you were the man of my dreams
Not another man who’d break my sanity’s seams

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Letting Go and Moving Forward-Drunk Edition 2020

It’s really hard to be vulnerable in this space but somehow I feel safe. Maybe it’s the lack of carbs along with almost a bottle of champagne and the almost anonymity. For the first time in a long time, I’m doing pretty good in life. I’m making this busy life of working almost 80 hours a week work for me with 3 kids, a great potential partner, a soon to be ex who’s my best friend/roommate, and the best friends any gal can find. I’m not failing at both of my jobs. In fact, I’m killing it and even had some “unusual” success at my second job. The guy that’s been my in my life for almost the past 4 months, has slowly moved from friendzone to something more last month and well he’s being very patient with my skittish behavior and my busy schedule. The second date and the last time we saw each other, he looked at me like I was magic and to be honest, it scared the shit out of me. So much of me wants to run away because I’ve never encountered someone that just wanted to really know me. Usually dudes, just put up this pretense of wanting to know the “real me” because they really want to be laid by someone “exotic” like me. Even, my soon to be ex husband pulled this trick. Haha. Do I blame them? Nah, It’s human nature to want to get laid, especially for guys. But, “A”, new dude, he’s different. He checks all of my potential great partner boxes and yet, I want to run. Maybe I’m scared of happiness finding me because I know how fleeting it can be.

Which leads me as to why I’m writing this post at midnight while kind of drunk as I listen to the saddest and cheesiest pop songs ( Hello Selena Gomez, Camila Cabello, Adriana Grande and my favorite, Ariana Grande…etc-you get the point-haha). I finally said goodbye tonight to the fuckboi that has been haunting my life for almost 2 years on my own terms. To explain our story, well, you can look back on other posts and angst ridden/love poetry. Two words to describe our long term situationship, intense and toxic. It’s a cliché but I never knew I could feel such intense hate and love for someone until I met him. I was F.Scott and he was my Zelda, my muse, my long term obsession. The last time we had a falling out, he ghosted me for 3 months and you guessed it, he came back the day after I had my second date with “A”. It’s like he senses when I’m happy or almost happy and comes back to cause chaos in my life. And my masochist tendencies went to see him even though I know our story always ends up in devastation for me. And even though, I was angry with him and I hate him, somehow I still wound up in bed with him. I knew that night like I knew the first night I was with him, I love him and part of that is that when I’m with him, he makes me feel like I belong to him. I’ve never felt that with anyone. It’s intoxicating and addictive and hard to give up, obviously.
However, the sex, the chemistry, the love I feel for him will never be enough for us to make things work, for him to change into the partner I deserve. I’ve known this for a while but hung on to hope looking for signs that maybe he would change if I “stayed” long enough tolerating his narcissistic bullshit and the awful way he treated me. It’s amazing how love can make one so foolish and dumb. I recognize and am aware in my own part in this toxic mess we both ended up making for 2 years. And even though I recognize the toxicity of whatever I have/had with him, it’s still hard to let go. It’s hard to let go of the fact that maybe I won’t feel this with anyone else. But then I tell myself, I don’t want to feel like this with anyone else. It’s crazy, toxic, and makes me lose all of my common sense. So tonight after I texted him “Goodbye” for the last time, I allowed myself to drink, have a mini breakdown, and isolate myself from my friends. I’m not even grieving him or the potential of the great love story we could have been, I gave up on that idea a long time ago.

Tonight, I’m allowing myself to just really move forward from him and start a new chapter where he no longer takes up space in my universe. Tonight, I allow myself to feel that I do indeed deserve all of the success professionally I encounter. Tonight, I allow myself to acknowledge that I do deserve someone like “A’ who values me more than just a girl he can fuck. And even if things end with him, I can hold on to the hope that there is someone out there for me that really sees me and believes I am indeed magic. I’m never again settling for kinda half ass effort just because the connection/chemistry is off the charts.

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Eliza Conquers Writer’s Block: Poetry Edition

Emotional Nonsense

I try to write words
that smoothly flow
But they don’t come to me easy
Maybe I just suck at poetry
But I will keep trying and praying
That I will become good at this thing
Before I painfully decide
To give up this poetic life
And on paper try to make some sense
of my emotional nonsense

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Eliza Conquers Life: Moving Forward

Moving Forward

So last week, I started a second job at Kroger and I’m excited about it. I feel that with this job my life will finally start moving forward. My end goal is to be financially independent from my husband so I can separate from him. I know that sounds harsh but it’s been over between us for a while. I know that it will be hard trying to work anywhere from 60 to 70 hours a week but sometimes in America, you need a second job to move forward in life. I follow the examples from my hard working immigrant parents who have set this precedent for me. I’m tired of struggling and just getting by. These are my goals:
1) My first goal is to pay off debt I accumulated during my great depression of 2016 and 2017 . 2) My second goal is to build my credit score enough to get approved for a used car loan. Right now we only have one car and it’s rough.
3) Save up for a down payment for a car.
I know that I’m sacrificing time with my kids but since they’re older, they understand. Also, they deserve better than what we’ve been giving them and it’s up to me to take that initiative. This is part of my plan to make my life better for me and my kids. We’ll see how it goes.72225401_10101360389525912_839527301614927872_o