My Life: A Small Update

Hello?

Is this thing on?

I have been absent in the world of the blogging for years. Today, things will begin to change.

When I first started by blog, I was in a world of chaos.

I had just received my Bachelors in Psychology along with my Minor in Counseling and I was tirelessly filling out resumes day-after-day in the hopes of landing a job in the a field that related to my degree. I was constantly thinking about my ex and believing that living in close proximity to him would be the spark to rekindle our relationship and the change needed for our relationship to work. In addition, I was living in a house occupied by fifteen of my family members.

The pressure to begin my adult life and start my professional career had increased to the point that I was sleeping and eating less and throwing random tantrums when my family asked questions about my life.

After researching ways to deal with stress and reading on how writing could be a helpful coping strategy to deal with my anxiety,  I decided to start this blog.

During the process of writing and reflecting on my life, I was better able to understand the multiple traumas that had occurred in my childhood and how they shaped my perception of the world. The more I wrote, the more comfortable I became about sharing  intimate moments of my life and gradually, the number of followers on my blog started to grow. Soon, they began sharing their own traumatic experiences, disclosing how they overcame those obstacles, or how they were dealing with their daily struggles.

Regardless of how different our paths in life had been, my followers were able to find something to relate to in my writings and were supportive and encouraged my journey of self-discovery.

Engaging with them offered insight on the importance of sharing life moments with strangers and made me aware of my need for connecting with people no matter how different we each may seem.

That was five years ago.

Today, I can confidently say that, at the core, I am still me, but my understanding of the world has changed.

I no longer carry the burden of others on my shoulders and have prioritized myself and my mental health.

I can only laugh now when I think back on how I used to blame myself for the actions of those around me and how I approached life trying to vigorously help every single person that meant something to me.

I almost lost my sanity in doing so.

I can let go now and move forward with my life.

I would like to say thanks.  For the people that randomly showed up in my life – the ones who broke my heart, the ones who pieced it back together, and the ones who filled it with love.

I am not alone. And I hope you, whoever you may be or wherever you may come from, understand that you’re not alone either.

I was once you. And in some strange way, I hope this journey that we call life, brings us closer together.

Here’s to the future and the continuation of sharing my life experiences with the beautiful people willing to listen.

Thank you! Truly.

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My Life: The Unspoken Monologue

As a school assignment, we were to give a presentation about the reasons why we wanted to be a therapist. I, of course, decided to write a monologue about my life and how it led to me being in a classroom learning skills to become one. However, as the weeks progressed and my monologue became more personal, I decided that I was not ready to share. Instead I gave a presentation using family photos that showed a glimpse into my personal life. I concluded by saying that I wanted to be a therapist for my family. Funny, how I almost convinced myself that this was the truth.

Here’s my true monologue:

Through the process of looking at my childhood, adolescence, and adult life, I discovered just how much of my past I had been running from. I do hope everything makes sense. Thank you.

In order to understand why I want to be therapist, I had to reflect back.

I thought of when I was a kid and how I constantly heard my mom get yelled at by my dad.

I remember how she just stood there, took it all, and begged him to stop drinking.

I thought about when my dad drank, his anger, and the pain I felt when he hit me and my older brothers.

I remember my older brothers, the drugs they took, them getting locked up, and taken away.

I thought about how alone I felt, the bad thoughts in my head, and how scared I was of someone finding out.

As a child, I wanted to escape my family.

But those thoughts of hanging and drowning myself became unbearable.

Instead, I decided to separate myself from my family. That way their problems were no longer mine.

My older brother wasn’t schizophrenic. He faked all the voices he heard in his head. And just for attention, he lost those twenty pounds. Barely slept. Never showered. He stunk so bad from not cleaning himself after going to the restroom that my dad forced him into the bathtub, yelled at him, and threw water on him until he was clean. Slowly his screams faded. He never learned his lesson.

My other brother, I hated him. His promises and his lies. The last real conversation I had with him was when we were both outside staring at the clouds and he turned to me and told me that things were only going to get worse from there on. This was before the meth. Before he got locked up for breaking into an empty house to sleep in when my dad finally decided to kick him out. Before the drugs messed with his head so much that he could barely speak in complete sentences.

At the age of fourteen, I convinced myself that they deserved it. We stopped talking soon after.

Years later when both were deported, I was too focused on school to care. And when one of them went missing, I was too concerned with moving to San Francisco to pursue a degree in a field that helps people that he never crossed my mind. And when I graduated, I was too obsessed with finding the right job that I had forgotten to visit the remaining one. And when I got the job, I was too stressed out to notice that he needed my help.

At the group home, I worked most days and long hours. Heard all these tragic stories by clients. I thought I was making a difference.

Then one day, a client ran away and I ran after her. I didn’t mind her cursing at me or the fact that I was running into traffic. I needed to save her. We ran far until she eventually got tired and decided to lie on the grass. She turned to me and asked why I didn’t just leave her. Nobody wanted her and nobody cared. I stood there silently. As she began to cry, I thought about how alone she felt. Her life full of pain. How much she reminded me of my older brothers. All her life she struggled with abuse. At the age of eleven she started using drugs. At thirteen she was arrested. And at fourteen she was sent to the group home. Before she ran away, she was told that she needed to stay there a few months longer because she was caught using drugs again. She told me she felt stuck and just wanted to be home and see her family. As I looked back at her, I finally said that I cared for her and the only thing that mattered in that moment was her. She began to cry again, but a few minutes later she stopped. A staff came and we were able to get her to return back. The next day she thanked me for running after her and to let me know that I was fast as hell. I smiled. Weeks later she relapsed and months later she ran away again. I will never know what happened to her or if I ever made an impact.

So why do I want to become a therapist?

Because of the guilt. Because I convinced myself that if I help others, it will ease the pain of not helping my older brother’s. But it won’t. And I will continue to search for that missing void in my life. And it will hurt. But in time, I will learn to let go. Learn that not all the things I experienced were my fault. I know that’s not the healthiest reason. Or a good one. But that’s the truth. And perhaps, that’s what that assignment was all about.

If you like what you see, feel free to make a donation to my Paypal. Any amount would be appreciated. Thank you and have a wonderful day.

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My Life: Becoming a freelance writer

Hello? Is this thing on?

If so, I would like to say hi and welcome you to my blog. And for those who have not heard from me in years, I would like to apologize. My life these past two years have been chaotic (and that’s keeping it simple). I went from home to home trying to find a place to call my own, changed job positions, and invested a significant amount of time and money on pursuing a Masters degree.

However, life happened and I am no longer in the right circumstances to continue.

I hope to share with you, in time, that chapter of my life. You’ll understand all of my struggles, my joys, and my pains. But for now, I would like to share that I am no longer going to school. These past few months I have been trying to find meaning in my life and in the process, I have decided to become a freelance writer. To tell you the truth, I don’t have a idea of what I am getting myself into, but that has never stopped me before.

When my guidance counselor told me that I would not go to a four-year college, I ended up graduating from San Francisco State University with a B.A. in Psychology and minor in Counseling. When all my other brother’s dropped out of school, I applied to a Masters program and got in. And I will continue to move forward regardless.

My stories aren’t too sophisticated (trust me, I know). Nor are they grammatically perfect (that is a creative choice). But they are honest (I promise). And that’s why I want to write and make a living out of it. I want to share my story and help at least one person get through the day. Or to make them laugh. Or cry. Or make them not feel alone.

And with that announcement, I would like some help from you.

I know this may alienate the people who read my blog, but I would appreciate any leads that can help in me becoming a freelance writer or at least a place where I can make a living sharing my stories.

Here is a list of some stories that show off my writing skills. I hope you all enjoy them! 🙂

Life: A Message To My Future Daughter

The Night My Life Changed: An Introduction

The Brother Who Left My Life

The First Sexual Encounter Of My Life

I know it’s a long shot, but it’s an attempt. Hopefully someone out there can hear me. Thank you.

Sincerely,

EDDY

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My Boring Life

I always wanted my life to be fun. The type of fun others defined for me. The party life, the fun life. I used to daydream about having a life where I would party with friends all night and drink more than my body could handle. I would dance promiscuous in clubs, make out with many guys, and have plenty of crazy stories to tell the next morning. What a fun life. A life I lived.

To be honest, I have my share of crazy party stories. I’ve drank and thrown up in front of my friends several times. I’ve blacked out and woken up in random places. I’ve gotten in fights while drunk and woken up with bruises. I’ve grinded on many gay guys. I’ve done more sexual things in clubs than legally allowed. I’ve danced shirtless and on poles. I’ve flirted with straight guys. I’ve made out with straight girls. I’ve gotten home way past 5am on several occasions. I’ve been an angry drunk and a fun drunk. I’ve accidentally snorted coke and forgot the nights events. I was roofied once. I’ve been date raped, and refused to accept it. I’ve cried many times in the bathroom while my friends were outside drinking. I’ve fucked up plenty and there’s no denying I’ll fuck up again.

I’m not not regretting what I’ve done or say I will never party again. I just want you to know that I’ve cried a lot during those two years of partying, drinking, and having random sex. That type of life can really mess you up.

I tried to convince myself that drinking was fun. I tried to pretend the people I met in these clubs and bars were my friends. I tried to convince myself that I was in a “real” relationship. Most of all, I tried to convince myself that I was a fun person, but I’m not. I’m done with the party scene and I’m done lying to myself.

Truth is, I’m boring, but I like being boring.

I like watching a random movie at home with my family. I like going to the beach and listening to the sound of waves by myself. I like running alone at night and taking long walks during the day. I like admiring the view while my friends drive long-distances. I like watching people as I take the bus or train to my destination. I like listening to House music or love songs when I need to escape my reality. I like having small dinners and spending hours talking with my friends.

I like my life. No matter how boring it may be.

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