Grief and remembering

Growing up, my grandmother and I would often make cookies together. Usually chocolate chip. Often times, she would also have made cookies at some point during the week and placed them for safe keeping in her cookie jar. A cookie jar that was there throughout my whole childhood. I have no idea how long she had it but it is emblazoned in my memory.

After walking to her house after school, I would take a peek every so often if there were cookies, hidden inside and every so often, I would sneak one of those squirreled away cookies.

I told my kids this story and that I had asked for these counter jars after my grandmother passed. Penelope declared that when we finally got it, they would be sneaking cookies out of the cookie jars.

I remember one time, nearly a decade ago, I was thinking of this memory and thought to myself how someday I needed to get a cookie jar for my kids to sneak cookies from. And today, that tradition can live on, I just had no idea that it would be from the same cookie jar.

I have gone through enough heartache for hundreds of lifetimes. Transmuted pain that wasn’t mine. I’ve felt my trauma as well as yours.

I am done playing the games that people play in forming relationships with each other. Done engaging with those that refuse to get real or raw or don’t listen to your needs.

I’ve had too much heartache.

I refuse to needlessly set myself up for more.

Mabon

I can’t wait for the day, that we can open up our table again, and share it with friends. The on going spread of Covid, while wading through a monstrous and unforgiving sea of grief, and a relearning/reliving of an entire lifetime worth of trauma and pain through a different lens; it’s been more exhausting than I even have words for.

I texted a dear friend yesterday, one who has spent many holidays and sabbats around a table with us when we lived in Louisiana, that I so wish she could’ve been here for this one. She always sat in community with us. One day we shall have that again out here, and hopefully with her as well, but for now, getting back into the rhythm of celebrating the turning of the earth, listening to the deep heartbeat from its core, and creating that space to once again open it up beyond those that live within these four walls, I am so grateful I am back in this mind space. It has been a deeply missed part of who I am.

I sincerely hope you all have a comforting and abundant autumn.

Blessed Mabon.

An open letter

There was a reason I got off of Facebook and Instagram. Well, there were multiple but one of the biggest reasons was feeling like I was a sideshow. I would share my heart and try to open up for conversations and connection, to be met largely with silence. The moments that really affected me was the multiple times locals would see me in person, ask me what was going on in my life and when I would answer, they would say something along the lines of, “Yeah, I saw you mention that on Facebook.” It felt, violating.

I was in an abusive friendship where I watched this woman cyber stalk people and relentlessly mock them from the comfort of her bed. And it just doesn’t sit well, that people go on social media just to “creep” but not actually offer companionship.

And well, I’m feeling that now with my blog. I write it to get my thoughts out and to try to connect to this world. There’s a couple people who I trust my heart with and when they read my blog, they engage with me, usually via text, to talk about what I’m posting here.

So why am I feeling this with my blog? Well I’ve noticed that for the past three(ish) months that someone local has been checking my blog every. single. day. Generally numerous times throughout the day, but hasn’t once engaged on a post. Hasn’t once mentioned anything to me through any other form of communication. And while I have my suspicions of who it is, there’s no way for me to ever actually find out. And I’m writing about it because it’s gotten to the point where I just feel like I’m amusement for someone instead of a person they truly care for because why? Why do people creep on someone’s posts that are generally very personal, if you aren’t actually taking the time to be their friend? Aren’t reaching out to a person to connect. Aren’t truly attempting to befriend them by getting to know their heart.

I don’t understand and it feels very intrusive.

I’ve tried to connect, to make friends out here, only to be ignored, ghosted, treated like I’m an annoyance by nearly every single person. And I asked for connection a multitude of times, but it was 99% of the time an inconvenience, and never reciprocated. I’ve been openly mocked by people who have kept a smile on their face the whole time.

So I wonder again, why? Those that are truly invested in my friendship and truly care for my heart, they reach out. They take the time to understand my triggers, my past, the way I move through the world, and my beauty. They don’t creep. They move intentionally in my life. They don’t make me question if they are just mocking me to their “true friends.”

I could be entirely wrong about who I think it is. Hell, it could be said ex friend who I know has a history of cyber stalking. But I don’t think it is.

And I don’t want to be cyber stalked, which is exactly what you are doing.

Do better. Learn how to really form relationships with people. For fucks sake, I’m tired.