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.
Gaslighting is one of those super toxic things that manipulative people do that really really messes with your psych. And it’s also one of those things that when you start to see it happening — it literally pisses you off. Partly because the freakin audacity and also because that no matter what you say or how you try to defend yourself, the person doing the gaslighting believes in their version so much there’s absolutely no way for you to ever find closure from this conversation.
Imagine years of that. Over and over and over. Now throw in having a miscarriage and a child. Followed by postpartum depression. People telling you PPD isn’t real and expressing your fear that someone is going to take your child (the third pregnancy you had and the first child you birth at full term). Having people “assure you” they “would never”.
Having the courage to finally say enough is enough and those same people telling you that your child “isn’t allowed” to move to your home state with you. Why? No fuckin clue tbh since I’m the one who spent the last 3 years watching her and making sure all the clothes that ~magically~ ended up lost were replaced. That she had formula. That she was never without health insurance. And now I’m being told because I want to move back to my home state where my family and friends are — so I can heal — FROM LIVING HERE — that my child can’t come with me.
I can’t describe the anxiety or the anger I have about this. There’s just so much I want to say but knowing that those people know where to find my blog — it’s hard to say anything. Literally. ANYTHING without somehow causing drama. If you don’t like what I’m talking about quit reading my fuckin blog. There’s a whole ass internet out there! Find something else to read! LIKE A BOOK.
I don’t get people. I don’t get how they could think certain things are okay.
And yes I’ve gotten shit about “not fighting hard enough”. But the truth is, have ya’ll ever had an argument with someone who does nothing but gaslight you?! It’s literally the most energy draining shit you could throw yourself into. And yes, so what, you gotta do what you do but the trauma over the years it’s caused has cut deep. And I didn’t realize how deep until recently. I’m constantly between fuck this shit and I don’t want to deal with being emotionally drained. I know in the end it’s Tums who will pay the price. And I wish I could just break out of this funk and just blow up like I normally do about shit like this.
Over the last few months it’s just crazy to see how much I’m seeing and catching up to. And wondering how did I not see this shit before?! Even if you’re super familiar with gaslighting and you know it’s happened to you before; it’s just crazy when you’re back in it with someone else and how long it takes you to see
It just really sucks and I don’t know how to fix what I’m feeling.
Typically July and December are my depressed months. The months where the most traumatic shit has happened to me and I just am not in a good mood or the best person to be around. And it’s not like I mean to be like that, it’s just those months make me weird. If that makes sense.
Tums birthday is this week and I got NOTHING literally N O T H I N G prepared. I’ve been in a super dark depressed funk all month and I noticed… this happened last year as well. The only birthday I really tried to make memorable for her was her 1st birthday. Even if it was just us. And I remember his family threw her birthday party (which I obviously didn’t go to cause I was no contact with them already at that point); I told her dad I didn’t want to see anything about it. Yet I still did and I remember feeling like shit. I felt like shit cause I wasn’t able to throw my own daughter a proper birthday party. I’m not from here. My family and friends are in California.
I felt like shit because I felt like I fuckin failed as. Filipino mom. There was no pancit. No lechon. All I wanted was to throw her this birthday party like every fuckin Filipino child gets…. and I fuckin couldn’t even do that. And it hurt.
Continue reading “Brain Dump | March”