I wonder if God is testing me. I have initiated dinner with my father, lured by the prospect of his life insurance policy. If baby plays nice will baby get rich? I feel owed compensation yet I am wise enough to know that in this world we are owed nothing.

Today, I don’t feel ‘good’, which is a personal euphemism that means I feel lost, alone, frightened and depressed. Gratitude is the antidote. I am immersing myself in mindful meditations. I dont know. I just don’t know shit.

When my father spoke to me about why he travels, he said “I like to feel lost”. I took it as a personal affront that the man who spends his life trying to feel lost bore me, a child who is always looking to find. Find safety. Find solace. Find something. I am blessed enough to have family and home. A place where one feels at home is perhaps the greatest gift I have been given. A haven. A family that I can run to. Maybe it was lost in translation because Daddy only speaks to me in English. My Uncle says that if he spoke to you in our native tongue he couldn’t hide behind his words. Like father like father like daughter. I hide behind my words too Daddy, like this is the tool that is my compass to find the place that I consider “not lost”.

He elaborates on the best feeling in the world. To arrive in a foreign country, not knowing the language, people or customs and to feel challenged to communicate his existence and needs to others. Same babe same. But not in a physical sense but in a metaphorical sense. That’s what makes me a writer right? 

In my top worst memories is the experience of airports. Of leaving. Of saying goodbye. Daddy taught me when you leave you never look back. You physically do not look back at the person you are leaving behind. Perhaps it is the same concept as in one of those old western movie duels. But I will never know if I have won because it would defeat the purpose and break my heart to see the person I’m leaving diminish into a world further away from me. 

The concept of challenge in personal development is to grow. So what? He only wants to feel challenged by new environments. It sounds a hell of a lot like running to me. It takes one to know one. 

I am not running right now. I am not making decisions either. Of course I am in another love mess where the universe asks me to ‘pick’. Why? Because polyamory isn’t natural? Or we constructed it. I can’t debate this right now. I’m too tired. 

My heart has weighted itself into my guts and you would think that feels like being grounded which is a sensation I don’t often relate to because I am a Libra which is an air sign and I am dreamy and intellectual and spend my time in my head and not in the real world. Or the only real world is the one I can create for myself on paper.

What did a psychic tell me? Well, a) she is a psychic but that is not her schtick. She’s an intuitive healer. Are we ready to share our feelings because fucking honesty with ourselves is probably the guide to making the right decision.

She told me my subconscious fear was ‘i don’t love myself’ and where did this come from? In a past life I was Tahititan. Banished from my tribe for falling in love with another man that wasn’t my husband. She sees me outside my village, my home, everything I have grown up with, outcast. Sitting there in my deepened state of mediation i have the conscious thought of ‘why the fuck did my lover not come for me?’. Asshole. ‘Why did I get punished and not the man?’. Patriarchy baby.

Then I take my sorry ass, heartbroken self to the top of a volcano which once felt familiar but now the slow heat promises me relief. I sit and contemplate whether to jump in and kill myself. Interestingly, after the session she said, I didnt jump. I loved myself enough to not jump. She gives me too much credit for not being a coward considering in this lifetime I already tasted suicide and God said, not today SJ. Survive it. I thought I had killed myself in that past life because in this life, I spend dream hours drowning. Surely, I jumped in a volcano if my current subconscious is trying to balm the burns in oceans, rivers and any body of water that will take away my life.

If you do not love yourself, then you seek out love in others to fulfil your void. Yes, I know, I keep a roster of boyfriends to suck love out of, I don’t know if one can make up for what I lack. And herein likes the dilemma of you don’t love yourself. Psychic or therapist who gives a shit they both run at the same rate.

Apparently, I don’t have to work on myself. According to the psychic, a therapist on the other hand would disagree and give me homework. 

I don’t know how to love myself. And my old therapist would have told me it was because my father abandoned me and the rejection by the parental figure damaged my ego. Yah babe, we all know. 

Self care can mimic self love but it’s superficial or a bandaid and I love a bandaid. I am taking care of myself today. I slept, I read, I’m writing. I am also smoking too much and not eating so I am only half helping myself. 

I don’t want to feel wounded but I can’t wade through the emotion. I’m drowning in it. Water or lava is still the same. ‘No more self deprecating affirmations’ says the psychic. ‘Remember I CAN, I AM’.

I can wade through the emotion. This too shall pass.

I read today’s bible passage through a religious app that spoke of being patient to wait for God’s promises. It didn’t talk about submitting your requests. I’m confused. What has God promised me? How do i find the answer and do i have to show chrisitain charity by building a relationship with my father to get there?

He promised the jews land. And now we have Israel. Fuck me. I doubt God’s promise to one is a negation to another.

In the same game of Daddy and me now. It feels like someone has to lose. God promised him to me and here I am with his watch on my wrist. Feeling greedy like wtf did God promise me?

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