I don’t even know how to begin this honestly.
I haven’t been as active as I’d like to be because it seems 2022 is just a year of realization and the last few months have been just super emotionally draining. I found the courage to do what I needed to do years ago but of course, people hate when you find courage to do something that doesn’t fit their narrative.
I make it no secret that I’m a traveler, a content creator, I chase dreams and magic and I don’t let anyone stand in my way. This is my life to live and no one can tell me how to live it. My happiness and my mental health have taken the backseat long enough. I fuckin hate being lied to, manipulated and most of all fuckin gaslit. I hate Texas and being a mother has been a bigger struggle than I ever thought it would be. I’m not the type to be satisfied with marriage, a family and a house. That’s never been my vision for myself. I don’t need someone else to complete me. Like my cousin likes to tell people: she can do bad all by herself.
It’s disappointing to find out someone who claims to care about you doesn’t have actions that line up with their words. And it’s even more draining when they refuse to hear you because you’re not saying what they want to hear. Since kicking Tums dad out I’ve been able to think so much more clearly without fear and without dread. And for the record, just because someone doesn’t hit you isn’t grounds to assume that their energy doesn’t make you uncomfortable. That’s not something that should even be a punchline.
So women should have no reason to feel uncomfortable around guys who harass them? Cause that makes zero fuckin sense. Yes I’m uncomfortable. Yes I have some sort of sex PTSD where I think if I wake up a guy — any guy straight or gay — from a nap I think they’ll ask me for sex. Or if a guy is nice to me even if they’ve known me their whole life, I’m suppose to owe them sex. And I honestly didn’t realize I had this weird ass trauma until I went to see my friends back home — most of which are all guys. And that thought crossing my mind around dudes I know would NEVER EVER HURT OR DISRESPECT ME was such a huge problem. There were things I said that they would say “you don’t sound like Hazel, at all, what’s going on?” and there’s so much of me that was locked in fear that I was severely unaware of.
My cousin and my BFF have been such helpful people the last few months. They call and check on me constantly to make sure I’m ok. That I’m good. That if I need anything at all to never hesitate to ask. My BFF was dope enough to help me pay my rent this month since Tums dad didn’t have rent and really had no plans on finding rent which would equal to me being evicted and a negative score on my credit report. And this is why I don’t like living with anyone. I’m so tired of housing dudes who can’t be responsible for finances or how to maintain a credit score. Or hell even to just be mindful of someone else’s credit score.
There’s so much I want to say and I’m not sure how to say it without naming names; this is difficult. I can’t even brain dump shit that’s weighing on my mental health because people stalk my shit and my blogs and I honestly can’t wait to be out of here and far from these people and this place. I can’t heal in the same place that broke me. That’s exactly why I left California.
So for the lack of activity here and on my social media — this is what’s been going on. Dealing with a gaslighting soon to be ex husband, trying to figure out what to do about my apartment and living situation and trying to figure out how to deal with custody. I’m pretty drained at the end of the day. But at least I’ve been getting sleep, if anything.