That’s probably the longest blog title I’ve ever used, but it’s accurate. I have been very busy, everything is flooded, my first clutch of eggs left me with about 3/4 of them completely unfertilized and my horses are assholes. I could just stop there, but let me explain further:

A few weeks ago I brought my horses home to my mom’s. I stay there all the time anyway, pretty much, taking care of her. So, I thought, “the only way I can make this work is to move my little farm back to where it started for me as a child.” So far, so good. We got fences built and other fences fixed. We started cleaning off the ruins of the old barn to start over with it. I cut trails and cleaned out areas in the woods for the horses to get out of the wind and weather until that project is completed. And it was all going so well! Cowboy and I had at least one great ride, Anna had her first bareback experience with me (or acted like it was the first time she’d ever been ridden bareback, lol), everybody was happy.

That was until monsoonpocalypse began a several days ago. It’s so awful – and it looks like we have another twelve days to go. OH. MY. GOODNESS. I know that all over the country people are having weather issues – severe ones, in different ways and at different levels. I’m going to say this even though I can’t believe I am – I’d rather be cold than be dealing with horses in a flooded pasture with no stables built yet… (I know – my mouth is gaping, too.)

Sometimes when dreams come true, you have days where they are more of a problem than a joy. Today has been one of those days. There have been some funny moments but mostly? I’ve cursed a lot, yelled at the sky and the atmosphere for being a dick, yelled into the void of the forest at big corporations for causing these ridiculous new weather patterns (believe it or don’t, I don’t care – but I do believe it). In short, “it’s beginning to look a lot like f*** this.”

Here are some photos/videos of how it’s been today. I’ll begin with my early morning feeding, and end with my fresh hay getting pissed on.

At the end of the day, despite my mom’s DISASTER of a doctor’s appointment, it’s not all bad. There are silver linings to all these horrible things happening. For one, I’m staying extremely busy which keeps me focused away from demons that are best left to burn in hell alone. Secondly, I’m outside constantly so plenty of fresh air. And, thirdly, I’m learning a hell of a lot about what I can do and remember from 30 years ago that I thought initially would be the downfall of my success on this adventure.

We all have bad days. But, when one of your horses pisses on the fresh hay you just put out, lays her ears back, gives you the side eye as if to say, “I care nothing about your hard work or efforts, that you’re here on time every day to feed us, that you’re doing your best to protect us from the flooding and keep us comfortable despite these ridiculous nightly thunderstorms, you suck for spraying my ears and I will not forget this,” you can’t help but laugh a little, pat her on the shoulder and feel like you’ve accomplished something good.

If you’re not pissing someone off, you’re not doing life right – isn’t that what the saying is? It’s something like that, anyway. 😉

Over a year ago, I did something I never thought I’d have to do. Because doctors were not helping me with my mother (who has dementia and is getting worse), I contacted adult protective services on my own to beg for help. The state came through, albeit an extremely slow process. They sent a wonderful man by the name of Mr. Hardin out to my mom’s home to evaluate things and he immediately agreed, upon meeting my mom and seeing the state of what I was dealing with (alone, as an only child), that I needed and deserved help in dealing with her.

That day back in January of 2018, I started a process of trying to get guardianship of my mother. Not something fun. Not a responsibility any human being really “wants” to have, but one that I knew in my heart was necessary. Now, we have reached a point where I need conservatorship, as well. And this is posing a problem at a number of levels. Alas, the doctors have all finally come through and given the state the information, documentation, and support that was needed to start a court case and here we are.

Except, today I found out that there is a thing called a “conservatorship bond,” and it’s something I have to not only pay for myself (which is hilarious because the reason for filing for legal guardianship and conservatorship for my mom is mostly financial – or the lack of finances, rather, for being able to put her into a better living situation with round the clock care or even in home care) but also something I have to qualify for based on my credit history. My credit history is not perfect, I’m not ashamed to say, because of student loans (which I have recently managed to get out of default, but still…). This could easily put a cramp in things, depending on the judge who hears the case.

I am anxious, I am stressed, I am worried, I am just almost at a loss. I have fought for so long to be able to legally care for my mother in the ways in which she needs care but refuses to allow me to care for her on my own, and in ways that a simple POA will not effect. And here I am, at risk of not being able to receive the legal help I need because of student loans and credit history and my disabilities due to mental illness (major depression, PTSD, extreme anxiety, etc.).

I just want to be able to take care of my mother and the law says, “you may not be competent.” Well, I’ve been competent enough for the last three years since my dad died to do so. And nothing has changed about that, except I am stronger and have learned so much about taking care of someone with her issues and illnesses. I don’t know what to do anymore.

I just want it to be over.

Hopefully within the next month I will FINALLY hear from a state appointed lawyer. Hopefully by the end of the year, I will be given my day in court with my mother to plead for the ability to care for her properly, make decisions she can’t, and make sure her bills are being paid (which they are not, at least not regularly, now).

If anyone reads this and has been in this situation or has any words of wisdom, I’d really appreciate reading them. I’m slowly coming to an end with my ability to see any positives about any of this, except keeping my mother alive…

“They say you get a totally new body every 7 years. Can you imagine?

It’s not like you walk in and ask for one. You don’t go in and say, “I want that skinny one with no issues and no scars.” No – it’s done cell by cell, day by day. Would you really chose a new body over this one that has carried you through so much?

I would debate it long and hard but eventually I’d stick with this one. Why? Because even though I want that fresh start, I want the one that is scarred, the one that’s embarrassed, the one that carries so much shame and hate because it only leaves me with room to grow and room to learn and a new chance to reclaim myself and my actions. I can’t pick and chose which parts of my body to exchange the same way I can’t pick and chose which pieces of my history to have lived through.

This may be a new body (technically speaking) but she’s still the same soul. A soul that wants to apologise to everyone for anything and everything. A soul that still misses some of the rocks and some of the mountains (not all because let’s face it, I’m still human and I will forever aim a flame to some bridges that will thankfully forever be ashes) but ultimately I’m a paradox.

I refuse to return to where I was all those cells ago. I couldn’t even if I wanted to. I’m a soul that is a lot happier, a lot stronger, a lot braver, a lot smarter, a lot more compassionate, a lot more understanding, a lot more willing, a lot more forgiving, a lot more stubborn, a lot more fulfilled, a lot more mature, more guarded, more careful, more respectful, more educated and left with a lot more love to give.

You see, for every memory I have from the past <40> years, I’ve learned that it wasn’t just my story that was being written. It was everyone’s, and even if I played the villain, or the bad guy, or was just simply a blip in one chapter of someone else’s, my book will be written solely by me and I refuse to carry the burden of every single dog eared, tear stained, half ripped page that led me to this point.

Thank you for helping me write everything up until now but I’m starting a new page. One that is empty and ready to be scrawled upon, one that some of you may or may not be a part of, but ultimately one that will be decided not by guilt, shame, hurt or embarrassment but by each new cell that is me.

–@beautifullymadebadlyfinished

Hey y’all. What’s going on in the world of WP?

I’m just gonna put it all out there like it is. I have not been very good at keeping up with this site. I’ve been struggling to keep up with ANYTHING. But clearly, with the new year, it’s societally correct to “start over.” I’m not doing that – I’m just gonna work on the “continuing” of things.

My idea is to simply post.  I have NO plan as to scheduling, post content, or anything else (although I would like to share more of my music here, thanks to the inspiration and advice of my incredibly talented and successful friends Vincent Corver and Andrew Huang).

The best I can do is try to give myself the time and the space I deserve to express myself – that’s been a huge part of what’s been holding me back in the past year. I got back on Facebook for a minute but I just can’t deal with Facebook. There’s no point in trying to share artistically there, and everything else (personal page related) is a great big political downer. I finally just deactivated because I’m so sick of Trump just the mention of his name makes me throw up in my mouth a little bit and almost go into a panic attack.

So. I’ve been focusing on sharing creative links (my own and those of others) via Twitter and Instagram the past couple of days, with a lot more interaction and a lot more friendliness. And now, here I am. Just ready to dump some music and photos and words on ya. Kind of like the old me used to do. I like the old me pretty much the way she was. 😉

With that, I’m gonna shout out my friend Andrew Huang here by sharing one of his recent releases with you and ask you to check it out, and stay tuned for more of my own creative outbursts, as they come.

Thanks for sticking around. Happy new year, y’all. Wishing the best of everything to and for everyone.

Much love,

C.

I am excited to announce that my first EP has officially been released on SoundCloud and you can listen to it via this link or via the player below. All songs are free to stream and download via the SoundCloud site/app. I hope you will enjoy this music – it’s very special to me. I am releasing this in honor/memory of my Dad.

Hope everyone is doing well. Thanks for your continued support despite my intermittnet presence here at WP.

Much Love,

C.

 

My friend Dawn shared a video that touches on something that I have been considering and trying to figure out how to express for a long time. Thank you so much for sharing this, Dawn. I have had SUCH turmoil in my spirit for SO long about the things shared in this video – and now, that’s just gone.

Before 2015, and even for a short time after my father died – while I was still in denial – I was who and what Dawn expresses throughout this video. I believed. I didn’t believe in religion – I had already fought my battles with that and overcome and undone the hold religion had had on me as a child and teenager, because of the way it was so misused and so abusive and manipulative. I had not (and still have not) completely overcome the trauma of that abuse, but I am much farther down the road of recovery. I didn’t believe in “that” God – but in the Source. A higher power. An energy. And I believed in signs.

I believed in our ability as humans to connect with higher spiritual energies and forces and to receive guidance and to guide others. I knew that I had a gift and that I always had – I was able to understand that part of the reason I was so strongly opposed to religion was that I had always been more connected to that source than to buildings and books and that the source was found in the natural world that I had adored and revered throughout my life. I believed in the power of nature to heal, to guide, to teach, and to comfort. I believed in life, and not death.

I had faith – so much faith. I was positive and more happy and at peace with life and with myself than I had ever been, and all just felt right. Real. And yes, peaceful, even in times of pain and struggle. Even though I was at this place and knew I had been awakened and was living with my eyes and my heart open, I struggled with the physical complication of depression and anxiety – not because I didn’t believe in good or higher power or whatever you want to label it but because my body didn’t manage its chemicals very well.

When my best friend was diagnosed with cancer, and I was going through a loss of a different kind along with that terrifying and excruciating experience with my best friend, I held fast to my faith despite the creeping depression. My father died unexpectedly one week after the one year anniversary of her diagnosis with terminal cancer, and I continued to hold fast, knowing that he had been prepared and ready for his own death for some time. He had struggled and suffered for many years, and though his death was unexpected (diabetic coma leading to stroke and then to the sepsis which eventually shut down his body one organ at a time over the course of five days), he was at rest. At peace.

For another 8 months my best friend fought and struggled and suffered, and I was there. I was there until she pushed me away and asked me not to be. She did this with many, to be fair – she was afraid, she lost her ability to cope, and instead of realizing t was a brain tumor and fear speaking for her I believed it was what she really wanted and thought I was respecting her wishes. Weeks went by and during this time my faith began to waiver and my grip began to loosen on that rope that had always held me through those difficult times. She passed away 8 months to the day that we buried my father, and in that moment, part of my soul quite literally died along with her.

Since then I have struggled. I slipped so far down that taking my own life was an option and something I planned out and would have followed through with and completed had something inside me not spoken up and cried out to my husband for help. I don’t know why that happened, aside from my fear of leaving my son without a mother and destroying him, but it did happen and because of his help, and my willingness to fight a really fucked up system, I was able to finally get the help and the medication that I desperately needed. I still struggle. I still rarely leave my home. But in so many ways, I AM better.

In the spiritual areas, though? I have continued to struggle the hardest there. To founder. To nearly drown only to be held afloat by the tiniest life preserver with the thinnest thread attaching it to me. That life preserver has been comprised of my son, of music, of art and photography, and my unwillingness to just pretend like I’ve been ok. I found more strength in vulnerability and allowing myself to share my reality than in “faking it.” Only through doing that was I able to cross paths with some of the most healing people I’ve had touch my life in the past year. People who have encouraged me to continue to share and to have faith and hope, if not in healing, and the possibility of mending and growing and learning to live with the ache of grief, loss, and the “not understanding” or not having the answers or the closure I thought I needed.

Dawn has always been one of those people, and I am so grateful. Even though Dawn and I may be on slightly different paths in career and life in general in many ways, we also share things in common that connect us in very special ways – cancer, loss, grief, “the struggle,” seeking the way (whatever that may be for each of us) – and, what she expresses here about “giving it all away” is so accurate and in tune with where I am…

And that is the other issue that’s been weighing on me: the issue of why I give away (or dump out, as someone once said to me, and I can’t help but laugh at that because it’s so close to true so much of the time) so much stuff – just give it away with no real concern about marketing it or branding it or selling it. “Why do you just give all this creativity and energy away for free? You don’t even try to gain followers or build your brand.”

Because…I don’t want to. I create for the same reason that I breathe. I don’t WANT to make money from it. Making money from it takes away the spiritual connection and soul that I want to express. I LIKE giving myself away, as it were. I LIKE sharing myself and my creative stuff.

I used to like working on computers and tinkering and writing weird programs and so on, and then when I let people convince me to turn it into a career the heart got lost. It became stress. The same thing happened with my photography. I let people convince me to “work harder” and to get into shows and to build a site to sell it and so on, and it became stress instead of joy.

I don’t need to sell these things and I don’t want to sell them. I don’t feel like they can be valued by a price tag and that if they are then it somehow takes away from the true value of what is there. You can’t put a price tag on peace – your own or anyone else’s. It is PRICELESS. And if anything I have to offer can bring that to me or to anyone who shares in my creative endeavors, it’s absolutely worth the “freedom” – at many levels.

Ultimately, as Dawn shares, it’s healing for me to “give it away” because it’s healing for me to create – it’s my PURPOSE to create. I’m going to create regardless and if I feel that giving it away and even just possibly being of help to someone else, even if inadvertently, can be a part of that process…well, why shouldn’t that be free? A lack of monetary value doesn’t make that worth nothing. At least, not in my soul…

Sharing is priceless. It helps me to believe – and it helps me to believe even more when other people cross paths with me via my creative sharing and say, “hey, I believe, too!” or better yet, “hey, I know the struggle so well but I’m hanging on, too. Let’s hang on together. Let’s learn together. Let’s share. Let’s grow together.” Those people exist. Many of you who are regular readers of my blogs, or listeners of my music, or followers of my photography, have shared with me that you are those people.

While I love that others find success in selling their creativity and I even often purchase it from them, it’s just not something I want to do with the things I share creatively online. I need that connection – at least right now, that connection is worth far more to me than money ever will be. I want to be better. I am, at this time, extremely blessed to be able to survive and work on becoming better and not worry whether there will be food in our mouths or clothes on our backs or a roof over our heads without me having to sell my soul to cover it. I am so thankful for that – for my family.

I’m SO grateful that Dawn’s shared this and that it’s available for me to share with you. This has been on my heart for so long and I’ve not been able to figure it out until now. Thank you again, Dawn. So much!!

I encourage you to watch Dawn’s video and listen to her story, which you can do by clicking here. In many ways – especially the spiritual things she speaks about – it mirrors who I was and who I am re-becoming. It inspires me to continue to seek my own heart and hear it, as well as that of whatever this higher power has to offer me.

I hope that you will find some inspiration or encouragement in it, as well…

All the love,

C.