Diary of a Queen

She so young, and so sweet. She’s quick to make a joke and always laughing at something or nothing at all. Bubbly, funny, insanely intelligent, and the cutest little thing you’d see. But that’s what she wants you to see. Because on the inside she’s crying, fading to black, faster than anyone could ever imagine. She shows you what she wants you to see. She wants everything about her to look perfect. But its not. It hasn’t been for a long time now; almost never. One little girl, one little soul has seen and lived through so much in so few years. How can one little girl be so strong for so long? How can she be expected to find her way out of all that the world has thrown on top of her? She’s been buried alive for longer than she ever remembers. No one has really tried to help her. No one has opened their eyes, or their arms, or their hearts to her. And she knows this. It’s no wonder she finally broke. She just snapped. No warning, no explanation. Just shut down. The signs were their all along. In her own way she’s tried to reach out for help. But the words never came forward, not in a way that anyone else interpreted as a cry for help. They heard her voice, but the never heard the message. They couldn’t miss the message though when she stopped talking. No one was listening anyway, right? At least that’s how she sees it. So she stops talking, but she keeps cutting. All the while she was smiling and laughing, she was cutting. It kept the real pain at bay. It keeps her in her own reality, keeps her in control of the little she has control over. Even now, now that they have locked her away to ‘help her’, she’s still in control. She’s not cutting, but she not talking either.

I see so much in her. I saw a beautiful spirit in her from the moment I met her. I knew she was something special; I just didn’t know how much. I saw a lot of myself in her before I knew what I know now, and now that I know, I see even more of me. She reached out to me just a tiny bit not so long ago, and I grabbed her hand, not knowing at some point in the near future I would need to grab so much more than just her hand. She needed me to grab onto her, onto all of her to maybe, hopefully keep her afloat just one more day. Somehow, someway I reached her. Day by day, she told me a tiny bit and I told her a little bit. For some reason that is above my understanding she trusts me, she listens to me, and she knows I am listening to her. She won’t talk to me now; she still won’t talk to anyone at all. But she communicates with me and only me. We communicate all day, morning through night and she’s shared so much with me. She’s so torn; she wants to be better, but she doesn’t want to hurt anymore. And I can only pray I can help her find a middle ground because I’m the only one she trusts. There’s no way I could leave her. Not now and not like this. I don’t know when or how or what, but I no that she needs someone, if only one single person to stick by her side. No one else is listening to her, but I am. I just pray the day doesn’t come where there is nothing for me to listen to.

I’ve always said being my friend is a challenge. I’m one of those people that always has something going on. If I thought I was a bad person, I’d think I had bad karma. Then again, do bad people realize they are bad people?

Anyway, just to add one more thing to the list of things that ‘only happen to me’, my car got hit last night. I know, I know, plenty of people’s cars get hit but with me, it’s always the story behind the story. My car was hit while parked in front of my house. It was parked in front of the house because a pipe right in front of my house burst last week, causing my driveway to collapse. Unable to park in my driveway, I’ve been parking on the street. A small part of me was worried that someone might hit it, but at the same time, a car can get hit anywhere, right? So I heard the accident last night, but when I looked outside, the bright orange cone that was behind my car was still in the position it had been so I figured I was mistaken. My neighbor knocking on my door a few minutes later confirmed that I was wrong. As soon as I heard the knock, I knew what why they were knocking. Whoever hit me had to have been driving on the wrong side of the street because they hit the front driver’s side; crushing my headlights, battery and tearing off that side of the bumper. A beautiful sight it was not. I couldn’t even get upset. What would have been the point? I’d be mad and upset and the car would still be messed up and I still wouldn’t know who hit me. The officer that came to take the report was yery friendly; so friendly that he spent a half hour chit chatting with me. Ya’ll know I don’t do chit chat. I wanted to have a drink to calm my nerves, but instead I went to bed after parking my car in my neighbor’s year.

I called my insurance company this morning. The experience was much better this time than the last accident I was involved in a few months ago. And I made sure to tell each person I spoke with. I don’t believe in only telling people about bad customer service experiences, but the very good ones as well. They got me set up in a rental car and with an auto body shop. I picked up the car and came home to meet the tow truck to give them the keys to my car. I stepped in the house for a few minutes to take care of a few things and headed right back out to head to the auto body shop to sigh then necessary paperwork. I had just enough time to run out and get back in time for an 11:00 call I should’ve been on. Instead, I fell in my driveway. Not stumbled, fell; as in torn jeans (my favorite jeans!), badly scraped left knee and rolled right ankle. Nope, couldn’t mess up one leg to have one good and one bad leg, I get to have two half legs. It never crossed my mind to wonder if anyone had seen me; I was too annoyed that I fell.

Even taking care of my wounds wasn’t easy. I couldn’t find the tape to bandage my knee, I half way wrapped my ankle. And making my way up and down the stairs to get everything I needed together was extremely uncomfortable. I finally pull myself together and get out the house (by this point, there was no way I was going to make this 11:0 call), driving to the auto body shop was just damn painful. I pride myself in being able to deal with pain; hell I just got a new tattoo and I’d rather sit through an hour of that than how driving felt. By the time I got a text from a close friend, I just fell apart out of frustration.

Finally I’m home, propped up on my couch with laptop in lap and ice pack on my ankle. It hurts, my knee hurts, and now my shoulder is starting to hurt. I didn’t realize that when I fell, I broke the fall on my hand as well. I didn’t injure it because I had my cd wallet in it. The boy, poor thing with his sensitive self, is not going to be happy when he finds that his mommy is hurt. So I’ll be internalizing a lot until I get him settled into bed.

Like I said, things happen to me in ways that don’t happen to most other people. I thank God everyday for the friends I have that support me; even when I don’t want them to, I allow them look out for me because they love me. I love them for laughing with me at my crazy life because all we can do it laugh at it. No point in crying.

Life throws us problems daily; some larger than others. How you deal with those problems shapes and molds who you are. I don’t believe there is a formula to handling problems that is guaranteed to make them easy. Each issue is different; each individual is unique. What I do think though is that you need to evaluate each situation you face and devise a course of action for it.

Venting and complaining are one in the same. Or should I say venting becomes complaining when you don’t put a plan of action into place. I think it’s because of that I have a hard time venting because I don’t want to sound like I am complaining. That’s my own personal struggle though. A plan of action is mandatory if you want to see the issue change. It’s really that simple. Talking isn’t going to fix anything. What are you going to do about it? And you have to assess: what do I have control to fix and what is out of my control? If you can, then devise a plan and act on it. A plan is no good without the follow through. If you can’t, let it go. You can’t control anyone else’s actions, only you own. And you can’t force your thoughts and/or opinions on someone expecting them to do what you think is best. Everyone is their own person and while you may be ready to take action, they may not be. Fear of losing something or someone can not be a factor in you plan. You have to be willing to let go of the source of conflict if you have to in order to come to a resolution.

I’ve been having this very conversation with a few people in my life, some more often than others. I recognize that you don’t truly grasp a concept until you are ready to. So I’m not one to talk them til I am blue in the face about it. If you ask me, I will tell you what I think. What you do with it is on you. And if we talk about it again, I won’t throw it in your face. Why? Because I wouldn’t want ‘I told you so’ thrown at me in the same situation. Doing the same things expecting different results clearly doesn’t work. But sometimes you don’t see that you are in that circle until you are ready to break it. Ehh, such is life; we all have to learn some kind of way.

There are some days you pray for God to take the murderous thoughts out of your head. Today is one of those days.

I wanna thank the law for what is known as the Abandonment Warrent!

We all know at least one person that always has something going on, some kinda drama, something always wrong with them. Their life is riddled with unforeseen, unavoidable issues. No matter what they do, how hard they try, they just cannot escape the inevitable occurance of “shit hitting the fan”. Ladies and gentlemen, if you don’t know one oo those people, allow me to introduce myself. My name is QueenT and I am a surviving walking disaster. At any given moment, I have at least two issues I am battling at a time…and that, in all honesty, is an understatement. Sometimes they are little flames, sometimes they are major fires, but there’s always a battle going on.

I think some peolpe are born into this lifestyle; kinda like sexuality. Some people are born gay; I was born a walking disaster. I don’t have much control over it. It’s one of those things you just learn to live with. After awhile, you really do get used to it. You learn how to cope; you become stronger, more resiliant. I guess that’s why I consider myself such a realist. Somethings just are and there’s nothing you can do but take them as they are and keep it moving, or stand still trying to figure it all out and get run over in the process. It’s hard having friends though. Having people you hang out with is easy, at least for me, being as “hus hush” as I am. But having real friends that you talk to and confide in is hard. You know they are your friends and love you and support you and would do anything for you. But the thing is: they are always doing something for you, because you always have shit going on. You get tired of having them in the position to “do something” for you. You get tired of complaining and crying and venting to them. You just get tired and try to wish and hope and pray it all away. But, nope, you can only wish it could be that easy. And sure enough, they end up doing something else for you again. Yeah, having friends is the part that’s harder than the issues themselves, because you suck others into your own personal black hole.

I’m not the only walking disaster; there are plenty other like me. I am just the one bold enough to share it with the world. To the friends of us walking disasters: “we love you immensly and hope you always know it” To those who only see us walking disasters from the outside looking in: don’t judge us, don’t pity us, and don’t think you know us because you can never. Just leave us in peace; we have enough shit to deal with.