Journaling

Damaged Goods

I am damaged goods. It’s hard to admit that, but I am. I’m the dented soup can at Jewel-Osco. I’m the slightly torn sweater at the top of the shelf. I have been through so much, at this point, it’s starting to feel like novocaine; numb, a grand loss of feeling. I have opened up about my pain, and I have had a mix of reactions. This vulnerability has jeopardized friendships. It hurts when a person looks at you a different way. The conversations are no longer there. They are nervous around you; they think you’re a ticking time bomb. This admission has pushed “what could have been” relationships in my head. After being told everything under the sun about his life, I decided to share a little of mine (after asking if it was alright of course)…only to be told that I was “too much.” Whew! I can only imagine if I told him the rest of my story. He might have filed a restraining order against me. Jokes aside, that crippled me on the inside. I started to think that I didn’t deserve friends. I started to think that I didn’t deserve love. I started to think that I would never be able to reach a sense of normalcy. Will I ever heal? Mentally, physically, emotionally, spiritually…will things ever be at peace?

I am damaged goods, but so are you. Now wait…wait, don’t get upset. I know that isn’t something that someone wants to be called, but it’s true. Everyone is or has been damaged in one way or another. If a person tells another person that they are damaged, they need to find the nearest mirror and say the exact same thing. Everyone has been through something, no matter how big or small it may seem, we have all been through something. Whether it’s as small as failing a test, or being molested as a toddler, neither one of us is perfect. As an extremely Type A individual, this is the hardest thing to take in. I am not perfect. I am not this all mighty being. Now, I am nowhere near average. I am extraordinary, I am powerful…I have so much strength, I haven’t even unlocked all of it yet. However, I am still human. I mess up, and so do others. I messed things up for myself, and people have messed things up for me. I’ve tripped over rocks in the road and fallen into craters, but I didn’t stay on the ground, I got up and kept walking.

After throwing my own pity party, cake, party hats and everything, I decided to search “damaged goods” on YouTube. A little online self-soothing can do the soul good sometimes. I came across this video by Pastor Michael Todd. He has a whole series on being so called damaged. Now, I don’t necessarily agree with everything he says (I don’t consider being gay damaged), but some of the points he makes resonate. In the first video of the series, he used this very clever visual to let his audience get the picture. On the stage was a nicely wrapped present. It had a nice shiny red bow on it; if you saw this present underneath your Christmas tree, your eyes would probably be attracted to it first. As he continued to talk about life taking over, he began to defile this box. He cut the wrapping paper off of it. He scratched the cardboard underneath it. He poked holes in the box, poured chocolate syrup on the box…he just messed this box up. Looking on the outside, no one would want to choose that box now. It’s less than perfect. It’s dirty, it’s tattered, it doesn’t look like how it used to. But inside the box? Inside…nothing had been touched. Inside of the box was this expensive pair of tennis shoes; not a blemish on them. Tye Tribbet did something similar. The video actually went viral a little while ago. He had offered one of his church goers twenty dollars. He bent the bill. “Do you still want it?” The woman that he was offering it to did. He then started throwing the twenty dollars around, stomping on it every way that it goes. When asked if the woman still wanted it, she did. No matter if it has been stepped on or ripped…it’s still twenty dollars! It still has value. You still have value. The outside is so over hyped. A lot of people try to make the exterior look pretty and flawless because they’re afraid to put in the real work to fix the inside. I know I can say for myself I was like that. Going back to the shoe box scenario, on the outside I may have been through something, but on the inside, nothing is touched. The pain, the agony, the suffering…it cannot penetrate the soul. It can’t pierce my heart. It is not the definition of me.

That guy that told me that I was too much, I wish him well, but he was wrong. Being “too much” is just enough for me and the ones that are meant to be in my life. He wasn’t meant to be, and it hurt…it hurt. I cried, questioned my worth, almost thought of begging him to reconsider and try…TRY to love me. How pathetic is that? I’ll answer that for you…VERY! At that time, I thought that this person was going to be it for me. I thought we were going to grow as one and so on and so forth. When it comes to healing, sometimes you have to get down and dirty with yourself. I am hurt in my love life after putting my trust in people who had no business handling it and having it fail. I have a bad relationship with my body. Ever since I was a child, I have never felt my body was my own. Yes, I might think I look nice in that body con dress I bought from Pretty Little Things, but that’s just the surface level. How do I feel about it on the inside? I’ve been told that I was too chubby as a child, later going on to have people use my body and violate it. I feel a detachment with my body. I feel a detachment when it comes to my own emotions. I feel a detachment when it comes to myself. It’s like there are two of me, but one, they two halves will be a whole. You might not want to do it, and you may be a little stubborn, but once you pinpoint the area in where you are “damaged,” the healing will only come that much quicker.

Finding pleasure in pain is no way to live, it’s not. I’ve been holding on to so much anger; what people used to say to me, what people have done to me, what they said I wouldn’t do…that change is rooted in me. It’s time to push that stubborn spirit aside, and say enough is enough. I’m comfortable living in fear; struggling while trying to live my best life. Let’s dissect that sentence; struggling while trying to live my best life. Struggle? Best life? The two do not belong in the same sentence. When your best life comes, there will be no struggle. Now the journey there, well that might be a different story. We are constantly changing, so our “best lives” will always be changing. Whatever hit or miss that comes into your life may nick you, and it may leave a little scar, but it does not touch the soul. The soul is untouchable.

The soul is untouchable.

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Self Care Saturday

The Easiest Earring DIY and Cleaning Up

It’s another Self Care Saturday! I haven’t really been taking the time that I need for myself. I’m currently in summer school, and I am studying my butt off so that I can come back to college on the right track. However, I thought that taking a little time for a simple craft would be much needed since I haven’t done it in a while. It was something relatively quick that I could do to take my mind off of class.

I love earrings. I feel practically naked without my earrings. That’s something that my Mother has always instilled in me; it doesn’t matter how bad you feel about yourself, always put some earring in your ears. My Mother has a wide array of jewelry in her jewelry boxes, and I hope to one day inherit it. However, as for now, I buy and create my own collection. Recently I had just purchased these dangling earrings (my favorite ones) that resemble faces. I got them off of Etsy, and I have been obsessed with them ever since I got them. I have always wanted to have an earring collection, and I have decided to create one now. At the moment, I think the eccentric looking earrings are just absolutely adorable. Another pair of earrings that I have purchased resemble little bags of fish; like the ones that you would buy at a county fair. That gave me the idea to create some earrings of my own.

This is the simplest more easy way to make earrings. You literally need two things; earring backs, earring hooks, and two sets of the same key chain. There you go…that’s it. That is literally all I used. Michael’s, the craft store, is a safe haven for me. When I walked in, everything was right there waiting for me to throw into my cart. I got a pack of lever clasps and a pack of kidney ear wire clasps. The key chains were inexpensive and no more than five dollars each. I bought two of three: golden pineapples, music notes, and gumball machines. All I had to do when I got home was take the earring clasps and loop them through the key chain, and voila…I had earrings.

After that, I took the time out of my day to de-tangle some of my jewelry. After packing up my things from college and going home, the earrings and necklaces seemed to have wrapped around each other. It took me a while to pick them out, but it was also therapeutic…almost like a puzzle. After that, I placed them in my earring holder. Each earring that I have tells a different story. Like the yarn tassel ones that I have, my friend has a little business and she made me those. I was no longer living in my old residence hall, I was in an apartment. I hadn’t seen her in awhile, and I was able to catch up and just laugh with her. Or the white hoops. My Mother gave me those. She’s had them since the eighties. I decided to wear them to a party, and one fell out of my ear. I ended up finding on a concrete step outside of my friend’s house, where the party was located. Or the dangling earrings with the doves hanging from this turquoise globe. I complimented a woman at my church on them, and immediately, she took them out of her ears and gave them to me. I of course sanitized them, and I put them on the next day. It was soothing to go down memory lane, as well as clean out something that was cluttering up my space.

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