The Art of Swearing

I remember being a young girl. Probably eleven or twelve years old when I urgently had to use the facilities at K-Mart as soon as mom had herded my brother, sister and I through the front doors. Back then there was no unisex bathroom where my mom, my sister, little brother and I could pile up into as I did my business because everyone knew what gender their fluid was back in those days. Being the eldest, mom decided to send me in alone as she and my sibs waited for me outside. As I hovered over the seat (no touching for me as I was a germophobe for as far back as I can remember) I noticed a word I had yet to read before. FUCK. It said other stuff too, it actually said for a GOOD FUCK call Lisa and there was a phone number. I hurriedly finished my business, got a fresh dry paper towel after washing my hands and copied what was written on the bathroom stall wall verbatim with my trusty red, blue and black clicker ink pen. I was on to something. This girl Lisa had a bunch of GOOD fucks, and since they were good and I didn’t think I owned any FUCKS AND we were at K-Mart, I decided to loudly proclaim my desire to have a GOOD FUCK from what I assumed was the toy department. All of the good stuff was in the toy department. Right?!? So I was convinced that was exactly where I could find the GOOD FUCKS at.

As I was not so quietly begging my mom for a whole bunch of GOOD FUCKS, she went white as freshly fallen snow, snatched her purse and my toddler sister out of the buggy and said “Let’s go. NOW!”

Neither my little brother nor eye could understand what the hell was going on as we sat in the back seat of mom’s station wagon staring at each other with wide eyes.

Once we got home mom sent my siblings into the backyard to play and tried to calmly explain to me that not only was that an ugly word…..it was the ugliest of words in the English language. Defensively I said “but those FUCKS were GOOD!!” So I got my mouth washed out with soap and grounded from going out to play with my neighborhood friends. In my tweenage rebellious mind I knew I had hit fucking paydirt. As soon as dad got home I got another lecture and a minor ass whipping (by minor I mean no belt was involved). By the time my punishment was up I was positively brimming with questions for my friends, two of which happened to be a couple of years older and boys. They told me ALL about those fucks and why I got my ass beat over giving one. From that day forward I have consciously incorporated that and a plethora of other equally shocking words into my vocabulary.

So that is the way my profanity story began, the rest is history, and I’m still wondering what poor ole Lisa did with all of those GOOD FUCKS she gave😂

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Balance: The Yin and Yang of My Life

Yin and yang is a concept of dualism in ancient Chinese philosophy, describing how seemingly opposite or contrary forces may actually be complementary, interconnected, and interdependent in the natural world, and how they may give rise to each other as they interrelate to one another.

I’ve suffered in my life. Oh, how I’ve suffered. There was a time that I allowed myself to be buried so deeply in my own tragedy that all I knew was suffering.

One morning I woke up and said, “FUCK that”!! That was the day I took control of my own destiny. Yes, as adults, life tends to hand us a plethora of shit sandwiches. Instead of turning up our noses at said sandwiches, one needs to learn how to tie on an adult sized bib and dive right in to that bitch. Life gives us circumstances. Some are rich, some are poor. Some are happy, some are sad. Some are easy, some are hard. The only certainty is that life is only going to GIVE you back what you give to it.

I started being abused when I was four years old. Four. The lens of innocence that I viewed the world through was shattered into a million tiny splinters of the sharpest crystal.

Through poor self esteem and bad decisions due to the poor self esteem, I continually made poor choices throughout my adult life. I have been victimized in every way there is to victimize a person. My life was my misery and I wallowed in it.

Learning that you have a mental disorder is not on many people’s top ten list of best things that have ever happened to them, but alas I’m DIFFERENT. Being diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder changed my life. For the better. All of the odd and different things about me finally had a name. A royal title if you will. I mean I’m quirky as fuck anyway, but add a double scoop with sprinkles of BPD on top of that and you’ve got one misfit, looney tunes mother fucker😊

I used to let my suffering and craziness define me. It took me coming to the cusp of completing losing myself to the darkness for me to finally shatter again, but this time shatter to a rebirth where I could see the bright, beautiful prisms of light that bounced off all of those broken splinters of my own heart. I OWN my suffering and craziness now. I run this koo-koo ass shitshow that is sometimes my life.

Although I have suffered, my blessings are great and many. I have learned never to judge. We never know what kind of internal war our fellow man is waging just below the surface. These days kindness and empathy just seem like words from days long past. It doesn’t have to be that way. I’m living proof of the balance in the great equation that we call life.

Although my heart has been broken time and time again, the greatest of loves was practically dropped in my lap. I personally think it’s because I GIVE so much love. It’s good for ones heart to spread love in these times of chaos and hate. It did come back around to balance all of my previous suffering and pain.

I had a small little nest egg that I took an uncharacteristic chance on by investing into a few risky high yield stocks, because I’ve always had a generous, charitable nature and have ALWAYS gone out of my way to help those less fortunate than myself (even during my darkest days) my gamble paid off for me and grew my nest egg exponentially.

The common denominator is balance. I, as a practicing Buddhist try to incorporate balance in every aspect of my life. From how I live my life to how I arrange my furniture. If you feel like you are in a rut. Do something. Anything. Get those wheels spinning again, because I know for a fact that “It can’t rain all the time.” (The Crow, 1994).

I ♥️ My 500 Followers

I started my blog eighteen months ago to try to deal with my Borderline Personality Disorder diagnosis. I was at the time only hoping to connect with others with my condition so I could possibly get insight and advice on how to cope with the dramatic highs and lows of BPD. Little did I know what a life altering journey my blog would take me on.

I have made so many dear lifelong friends from all over the globe. I have found unconditional love and support from the unlikeliest of places. I have laughed, cried, ranted and raved with all of you and I wouldn’t change one single second of it!

You all have become my giant loving supportive family and I am so very grateful to have each and every one of you in my WP family. Thank you for 500 Follows. Here’s to many more years of our profanity laden (me), happy, sad, exciting, crazy journey♥️♥️

🙏🏼Namaste Y’all🙏🏼