My Life. My Terms. Pushing Forward.

Wassup Mi Gente! 



"I been gone for a minute but, I'm back wit da jump off, goons in da club..." And some of y'all know the rest, lol. That's my shit.

But, on another note... How have You been?! 

So... Its pretty obvious that its been a while since I've posted, since Dec.6th, to be exact. And it feels like the very first post. 

In true fashion, I have written this a hundred different times, a hundred different ways in the last two months while looking dead at the computer; and da only thing that has stood the same was Lil Kim's intro. Real shit... I've written it on train rides; while eating pizza; while smoking a blunt; aaaaaalways while taking a shower; and especially after therapy; cuz now, I'm in therapy. Group. Therapy. Intensive, 5 times a week; Group. Therapy. Every day, for an hour and fifteen minutes, Group. Therapy. And, on top of that... I have individual therapy once a week, so Mondays... tend be VERY real fah ya girl. But of course, you guys wouldn't know that cuz, I disconnected. And to keep it funky, I cant count the times I just wanted to share my day; what I was feeling, experiencing; how I managed or, how I didn't manage. I wanted to write everyday; and every night, the thought never passed me,"Damn Bee, you didn't write again."  Fucking heartbreaking. But i just couldn't, and for so many reasons I couldn't break through that huge wall of resistance, or at least, maybe now I think, I was too scared to. 

When I began this blog, I was very clear and confident in my decision to share my healing journey with the world, the world meaning my friends and family, lol, now that I really think about it. Cuz, essentially in the beginning its ya home girl, ya sistah, and the few people you never met on your social network -no shade- that are reading your blog when your fresh out. Still, I've never felt like I had more purpose. I felt like I had found a place to be me; raw, bold, and tangibly introspective. Tangibly introspective -cuz I know that prolly sounded a lot like some shit I made up, but totally makes sense to me- meaning that, my healing, my rebuilding of myself will not just be this memory I'll have, or some abstract... whatever. That my shit moments, and my AHA! moments wont just be something," I went through." With this blog, I can go read and see my journey. Its like these posts are my own "transformation pics."  Right now, writing this make me feel excited, alive, its an adrenaline. I can't even believe that I've passed up this amazing feeling; traded it for fearing what people were gonna think of me, despite all the love I was receiving. I traded it for silence, something I know all too well. That we as women, as people of color, know all too well. I grew up in a very traditional Dominican home and I think I could speak for most Latinos that, we grew up with the household rule, "What happens in this house, stays in this house;" and I most definitely carried that value with me most of my life. Granted, for those of you who, know me-know me, know that in the same breath, I could be very candid about myself, and my upbringing but, never to this degree. Never so unapologetic. I claimed my little space on the net and didn't look back, at first. 

Internally, I had so many questions, so many thoughts, so many feelings about why I am the way I am, why was 2014 the year it all came crashing down, why the fuck am I in therapy, why? why? why? We're always asking why, right?! And the only way I knew to start figuring out these things, and just letting it all go was through writing, and sharing. I guess I wasn't expecting the responses I was receiving from you all. Not that I didn't appreciate it; it was such a beautiful overflow of support that in a lot of ways I didn't know how to receive, and still don't; but I'm learning. In fact, I never really, reeeeeaaaally, took into account that my loved ones would be reading this, and possibly blindsided by what I was sharing. I mean, I put up a good front. Point blank period. No one would have ever known what I was going through and, I didn't hold back, on telling ya'll what, I was going through; nor was a planning on. I didn't feel like I owed it to anyone to protect them by sharing my story because in so many ways I have always felt like, no one has ever really protected me. Yet, I stopped blogging because I began to feel like a terrible daughter, a terrible girlfriend, a terrible person overall for airing out all my intimates for people to read. I became paranoid about people thinking that my parents are horrible, or even my family because of the sexual abuse. I started to feel like every time I saw someone, god forbid I wasn't in the best mood because maybe they'll think I'm about to jump off the edge. I felt like I didn't have a choice to feel fucked up cause I felt I placed myself under a microscope. "Good days," became an obligation. I think I couldn't go anywhere, or at least, I felt like I couldn't go anywhere without getting the,"I love you, I'm here for you," hug. It got to a point that I became so embarrassed that I hadn't responded to people's messages, or that I hadn't posted, that I just shut down and went on high-a-tus; literally. Smoked my motherfucking life away the last two months cuz I felt like a total failure. I was scared to get back on here. I was scared that maybe I wasn't healing, or getting better. I didn't want people to judge me by my setbacks or my lack of knowledge of how to deal with my intense emotions. I started talking down to myself and believing I was just a royal mess, and I was; shit, still am, but that's ok. For the whole month of December, I internalized a lot of thoughts and feelings about my self. I didn't take a step back, nor did I feel like I was moving forward until January, when I started therapy at the, Center for Intensive Treatment of Personality Disorders (CITPD). 

C.I.T.P.D., which I will def tell you all about in another post, is a program I go to everyday, as I mentioned earlier. I'm only a month in but, wow, has it been a saving a grace. When I first got the appointment for an intake, I cried. It was the first time in 12 months that I felt like I could breathe, and it was the first time in my life that I had EVER cried cause I was relieved. I was relived because I was so desperate at this point so, to hear that you aren't crazy for how you feel, you just don't know any better but here's a place where you will learn, it was a priceless feeling I will never forget. And it was the best decision I have made. I recently just started participating in the group therapy sessions without having to be asked, and have only had 3 individual sessions so, I have a long way to go but, I'm becoming more open to this whole process. I never thought it was going to map out this way and, no matter how much I've said, that I "knew" the journey was gonna be messy; Intellectually I knew it, but emotionally, I wasn't trynna to feel it. Heck, I'm still trying to comprehend where I am emotionally and accepting, there's nothing wrong with where I am cause its were I am meant to be, right now. We are, where we are meant to be, right now.

I'd be lying to you if I said, I didn't want Building Bizzy to be successful. That whoever shares their time with me to read, and be part of my healing journey doesn't just think, "Geez, this girl is really fucked up." I want people to walk away feeling curious about their own self, to have more healthier conversations around mental health, go away feeling, or hopefully feeling, better cuz they got a small laugh outta some corny ass line I wrote, or even to feel challenged by own point views.This whole experience, my life, as we speak, is mine. Its not and it wont be, especially in the beginning, rainbows and fairy tales. In the same breathe, it wont always be a, shit show. I'm laying it all out on the table, again, details and all. It may be too much for some, and not enough for others. I would rather take all the pain I feel inside and write it out, than to continue self-harming myself physically, mentally and spiritually. Its my life and, as much as I know external validation means more than it should, like too freaking much; I'm trying my fucking hardest to validate myself and all the baby steps I've taken, especially the ones within myself. Some days are difficult as fuck but, I'm pushing forward. You can too.

As I got older, I always said, and especially in the last year, "All this pain and suffering cannot be in vain." Nicki Minaj, couldn't have said it better in her MTV special,"The brokenness is ok, if its too inspire." And, inspire, is all I really wanna do.

Thank you so much for letting me vent on ya screen and, being a part if my healing.

Stay Building

Stay Dope


P.S.

Happy New Year!!!! I hope 2015 has been full of self-love, curiosity and an abundance of peace, so far.


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