Trama, no one cares

A few years later after my brother died, I was online and found a poem that someone I grew up had written about my brother, It kind of pissed me off and I am not sure why I had that reaction maybe because I didn’t want to face what happened and someone had posted this online, an event that affected me so deeply and was so personal.. Years later, I tried to friend them on social media and they never responded and as stupid as it sounds, it fucking stung, really bad. Trauma never leaves you and you can be triggered any second.. Oh, who gives a fuck anyways, 😥

Social media, the anxious trap

I feel really overwhelmed with social media right now, I’m not feeling ignored, in fact, I’m getting love and support than ever and it’s much appreciated, it’s surreal actually to feel like my words and thoughts are resonating with so many people in a such a positive way.

But with all that, it’s tiring, maybe it’s me sharing my brother’s story about suicide live or maybe it’s me posting too much and relying too much on the validation of other’s ( it’s so easy to get hung up on likes and comment and then place your self-worth on that) Maybe it’s seeing post after post where everyone seems happier and more productive than I ( Who isn’t running a group and making live videos these days?) And I know it’s a facade but it still causes anxiety. I also have my own successes but I still can’t help but compare to others in a negative light, I’m never good enough despite my best efforts. Maybe it’s the fact that I never see the posts from the people I care about the most and they never see mine ( or so they say, they most likely skipped through my posts on their newsfeed). Maybe it’s desperately wanting to reconnect with people who don’t want to reconnect with me ( that hurts,)

And some of this is my anxious thinking, it’s hard to tell what is anxiety and reality at times. I just know social media is getting old and very frustrating. I am focusing on my groups at the moment but not on posting or scrolling through my newsfeed ( what an awful waste of time that is), maybe this will help my anxiety. But the worst part is very few people will bother to read this whole post, they make skim it but not absorb the message.

It seems to be that the more connected we are online, the more truly disconnected we are in person, life is funny that way. Sometimes I wish I could throw my computer and phone in the ocean, move to a tropical island and liberate myself from this digital prison, it’s a trap, a crutch and it’s doing harm to us all. 📱😥😒

Permanent scar

I’m playing in the pool and I’m by myself, usually, my friend Michael is here, where is everyone? I hate swimming by myself. Suddenly the whistle blows and they tell everyone to get out of the pool, I wonder why, until I see the dark storm clouds above, storms scare me and I am only two minutes from home but when you’re nine years, it feels like two miles. I’m so anxious.

I grab my towel and my flip flops, I can still smell the chlorine on my body. I run through the shower area, out of the main office and up the pool path, I’m beyond scared at this point, I am running home as fast as I can and suddenly the rain pours on me and the path becomes a waterslide, I slip and fall on my knee, tears fill my eyes, I look at my knee and it has split open. I cried “Mommy, mommy” but she was too far away to hear me. I just lay there in pain, soaked with rain. Eventually, I limped back home and my parents saw my knee and we hurried off to the hospital, there they gave me stitches as my mom held my hand.

About a week later, I was riding my bike and I fell and reopened the wound and had to have a second set of stitches, much to my dismay. Eventually, my knee healed but it remains permanently scarred to this day. Every time I see that huge scar on my knee, its a reminder of a day I won’t forget. Sometimes no matter how much we want it, some wounds will never completely heal. 😥


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Kurt Cobain

Not only was Kurt Cobain a great musician but he was also a man who wasn’t afraid to show his sensitive side despite how others may have viewed him, he spoke in support for women when misogyny in rock was commonplace, he spoke out against homophobia in a still very homophobic society, he was someone I think who cared much about equality in a very sincere way, he didn’t run-up to the mic at an awards show and shout it but he quietly stated his views in interviews and he was very insightful. It’s shame he was so depressed that suicide was his only option, I admire him for courage and authenticity during his lifetime and he made it easier for men like to be open about my emotions and to show my emotional and feminine side without shame. I miss Kurt, he was incredible.


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My brother

When I was 14, my brother took his life and after that, I remember having the need to talk about it a lot and I soon realized that it made people uncomfortable and their discomfort made me anxious so I stopped talking so much about it and I stuffed all those feelings inside for many years. A few years ago when I started to heal, I decided to write about my brother and post it publically, I was nervous about it because I wasn’t sure what people’s reactions would be and I realized that their reactions didn’t matter and the reason I was posting was to heal and help myself, I also realized that I not only was writing about my brother helping me but it could also help someone else who had lost someone to suicide or even someone who was struggling with suicidal thoughts themselves, it was healing for them too. So even if it makes some people uncomfortable I still write about my brother from time to time so that I can use my story to help someone, that’s what it’s all about.🙏


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Only in dreams

The only times I see you is in my dreams, in my awaken state I’ve forgotten your face and voice but when I dream you’re there talking to me as if you’re still here, just as I remember you, forever young.  A part of me in the dream is thinking “I know you’re gone and this is an illusion” but I’m so thrilled to see you again I humor the REM waves of memory and subconscious. Old faces join us in the dream, like in the past, we’re all in this place together, like before,  sometimes you’re close by and I enjoy talking with you, hearing your voice again, it’s comforting as it as if it’s your way of letting me know you’re ok. Other times you’re far away in the distance, I can see you but I can’t reach you, I try in vain to get your attention but you never seem to know I’m there.


When I wake up, I have come to the realization that it was only a dream and you’re still out of reach and the pains of loss encompass me so, I shake with sadness that the reality is so painful after all these years but with all that, it’s still good to talk to you even when I’m sleeping and our conversation was a figment of my imagination. I only hope when I close my eyes tonight and drift off to sleep I might be able to see you again, if only for a short while.  See you in my dreams, until later