Sorting It Out

I hope everyone had a restful weekend. I’d like to welcome the new subscribers who have come on board in the last few weeks. 🙂 I’m glad you find me interesting enough to follow me on my journey. Please feel free to message me and/or leave comments. I always reply.

Today was hard for me. It was the anniversary of my mother’s funeral. I still have her eulogy typed up, and every so often I go back and read it. Mostly to remind myself where I was in that moment and how far I have come since that day.

I tried hard not to think about it, but by six o’clock in the evening my stomach became ill and my current nine day long migraine intensified. The only thing I could do was turn off my computer, set it aside, take my current migraine medication, which isn’t much, and lie down with a cold pillow over my head. If you know me, you know how much I LOATHE being sick. Suffering from a long list of chronic illnesses doesn’t mean I enjoy it. These are things I never asked for and would not wish upon anyone else. I do my best to navigate each of these things, but I also have to prioritize my health as opposed to forcing it to the back burner. I neglected aspects of myself for a long time and as a result, I am sicker today than I ever was before.

I know constantly having to fight for my rights, advocate for my health and proper treatment, and always feel like there is no certainty, just battles, isn’t helping matters. People often read my posts and get offended when I say “I don’t have much of a support system.” I wasn’t aware I was invalidating people who are, predominantly, quite vacant in my life. If all you do is call me when it suits you, text on occasion, message me here and there, and ask me questions about things of no real importance to me, I don’t consider you a part of my daily “support system”. If you feel invalidated by that statement, the issue lies with you, not with me. There are plenty of people who I have offered support to and have received the equivalent of a slap in the face in response, so excuse me if I don’t deem these people “supportive”. My assessment is quite accurate.

Standing by someone while they sort through their health and unhappy situations means you don’t ever intentionally trigger their anxiety, anger, or emotional suffering. If you never say a kind thing to another person, you certainly aren’t bettering their life in any way.

I was raised by two women, my mother and Grandmother. My Grandmother would always turn to my brother and I and say “If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.” My mother’s version was different. She always encouraged me to speak my truth. I was five when she told me “The truth is more respected than dishonesty. If someone chooses not to believe the truth, and they try to discredit you, at least you know you’ve told the truth, regardless of what they are choosing to believe.” Those were profound words for a young girl, but she always encouraged me to use my voice, and not allow others to attempt to rob that power from me. Having lost both of them, I know they are each in the unique position of being able to see how people treat me, to hear the conversations and comments, and to know precisely who is and is not doing their best. I am far from perfect, but I am doing the best I can.

My Grandmother was such a strong believer in family. After she passed away, I quickly saw through all the things she tried to keep in tact. Her belief in the “family unit” stemmed from how she was raised, but in truth, there was no “family” at all. There was this immense illusion. My mothers’ side of the family chooses to have nothing to do with me, and the feelings I have in regard to their behavior are things I don’t always verbalize. I try not to think about it too much because I am justified in my anger. I have zero respect for a lack of decency, lack of common sense, and basic humanity. The same is true for my fathers’ family. I witnessed so much growing up, always wondering why my Grandmother held tight to the idea of this “family” dynamic. I watched how it became nothing and continued to become less and less the day of her funeral. Losing both of my parents put everything into perspective for me.

I don’t doubt that certain people have feelings for me, but do I believe those are feelings of love? Rarely. I know my brother loves me in his own way. He steps up at times when I am not expecting it. I know that other family members love me in their own way, too, but I often feel excluded and dismissed. I often feel set aside as a person with no thoughts, no feelings, and no validity. If one more person has the audacity to say “Are you ever positive about anything?”, I will probably lose my temper.

I have never had anyone who truly knows me or anyone who follows my work deem me a “negative person”. I am my most authentic self when I am writing and speaking. I am the same way in every aspect of my life. And yet, I’ve noticed snide remarks of late that question my genuine authenticity. I have walked away before saying “Go fuck yourself.”, because I will not engage with someone who is intentionally looking for a fight and/or being an asshole. I have walked away before saying “You’re clearly projecting if you’re questioning MY authenticity. I question YOURS, but I’m classy enough to keep my mouth shut.”

Love, loyalty, authenticity, and all my friendships and relationships are some of the most important things in my life. In this, I am a supreme perfectionist who is honest about her imperfections. Someone told me last week “I can see that authenticity is very important to you, and I respect that.” When one person chooses not to see it, and everyone else sees it immediately, it is much easier to cope with one person trying to take a pot shot, as opposed to thousands of people viewing you negatively.

I am going through a lot, but I’m still the same person. I am working on myself, and I am doing the best I can. If you don’t know every single thing in my heart, you have zero right to judge me.

This week I move on to other battles. I am hoping for some downtime at some point to be able to find a sense of calm. I have a consult with a new neurologist next week, so I am hoping there’s a positive outcome there, especially since I’ve waited nearly six months to be seen. Fingers crossed for some good news.

Wishing you all a wonderful week ahead… Li

copyright © 2018 Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity, LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

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Skype Conversations: Part I

Him: Hey babe, what are you doing?

Me: Trying to draw Kylie Jenner’s lips.

Him: WHO?

Me: It requires more lip liner than five people have ever tried using in the 90’s.

Him: Is this a friend I haven’t met?

Me: No. Why?

Him: Well, there’s nothing wrong with your lips, so I don’t understand why you’re still drawing… What the hell did you do to them?

Me: I just told you: Kylie Jenner, lip liner. See?

Him: You don’t need lip liner, you have full lips.

Me: Excuse me?

Him: That’s a good thing- for a woman. You know, ’cause they thin with age.

Me: Learn that in a textbook, did you? (wipes off liner and lip balm)

Him: How did this go so badly so quickly?

Me: Don’t ask me why I’m doing something weird at 2:00 in the morning when I can’t sleep.

Him: Okay. How was your day?

Me: I do not recall, but whatever happened I am sure it led to the insanity of people believing that lip liner and lip injections could ever be similar.

Him: You’ve completely lost me…

Me: You heard me.

Him: You did NOT get lip injections. Tell me you didn’t do something so stupid.

Me: No, I did not get lip injections or they’d be visibly swollen, but thanks ever so much for letting me know that somewhere in my future is thin lips. At least something will be perfectly thin.

Him: I think I have a headache. Why are writers so difficult?

Me: I’m sorry, did you mumble something?

Him: Who, me?

copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

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Conversations In My House: Part One

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Conversations In My House: Part One

This is an actual conversation I had, verbatim, yesterday morning.

Him: “I’m out of body wash?”

Me: “If the bottle isn’t there, then yes, it would appear so.”

Him: “You didn’t think to replace it?”

Me: <left eyebrow raised> “Do I LOOK like your mother?”

Him: “No. Do you have something I can use for today?”

Me: “I’m sure there’s something in there. In fact, I know there’s plenty in there.”

Him: “Yeah, but they all smell…girly.”

Me: “They rinse clean, just fucking use it.”

Him: “Don’t you have a bar of regular soap?”

Me: “I’m a woman, I use body wash.”

This incites grumbling.

Halfway through the shower I hear this,

Him: “There’s nothing left in this bottle.” (There’s a good three squeezes left in there. I have it upside down right now. 24 ounces is 24 ounces and the bottle is see-thru, I’m not an idiot.)

Me: “It was plenty for an entire shower less than five minutes ago.”

Him: “But now it’s empty.” (There was whining and sighing, it was ridiculous.)

Me: “Here, use this.”

Him: “What does it smell like?”

Me: “It smells fine, just use it. Rinse the shower thoroughly when you’re done so it doesn’t stain. Sometimes this one stains.”

Him: alarmed “Wait, what?! Why will it stain? What IS it?

I’d already walked out.

Him: “Seriously, what IS this stuff? I’m going to smell like a giant Hershey’s Kiss!”

Philosophy Chocolate Covered Cherry, for the win!

Him, before he shaves and gets dressed: “Be honest. I smell like chocolate, right?”

Lesson to be learned: Don’t be a douche-bag if you want the fancy unisex stuff. Moreover, you’re an adult. Buy your own damn soap! 

copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.