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Morning thoughts

I am home alone and I don’t watch TV. Our TV has a Snoopy screensaver and I was going to take a picture of it and write my post. Right as I picked my phone up to take the picture, this show turns in with this pop up. I zoom in to the remote. It’s nowhere near me. Am I weirded out? No. Kinda curious about how this turned on by itself at this point. More focused on my post for now.

This morning as I prayed the Holy Rosary, practicing walking, I thought about a disease of not feeling good enough that really affects Native people. I think it’s a disease and that it primarily affects Native people because of the unique character traits, culture, genetics, and societal makeup that Natives are exposed to on a daily basis. What am I talking about? The immense power of feeling not good enough and sincerely believing with all their mind, heart and soul they don’t belong anywhere and no body loves them. Which I fell victim to as a young child exposed to dramatic events such as deaths, rape, drug and alcohol abuse in the community I grew up in, I was trained and taught that this was the normal. Having drunk parents being belligerent and doting over their kids was normal. It was weird and scary, but normal and accepted. Regardless of whether or not my parents partook in this activity, I had enough exposure to my friends normal that I didn’t think anything of it. As a young adult, I joined the work force, started smoking at the ripe old age of 16 and drank soon afterwards leading to just another cog in the cycle of despair. It was normal. Friends smoking weed. Sneaking out of school to smoke. Stealing to get smokes and what not was all normal. Why does this lead to feeling not good enough and this disease? These activities don’t align with your true self, there’s nothing good or positive about it at all. On top of that I (you) are constantly being told negative things, which I will not repeat, you are judged harshly by the same people you look up to, you are constantly berated with guilt for what you did and didn’t do. Once again all normal. Being yelled at any any given time because of someone’s ignorance and uncontrollable anger was all normal. It’s abusive mentally and physically. If you try to changes by going to church or bettering your life you are cut off from the ones you love

It’s a disease. It’s a cyclical disease that has lasting effects to those who experience and grow up in this environment. It’s harmful.

I know it is because I had to overcome this negative self talk that I’m not good enough… even if my parents didn’t speak like that or act like that, I picked it up from my friends houses and all around me. It took a long time to work through the emotional lack of intelligence that I needed to help the healing process begin. I had to work really hard at it because it is so easy to fall back into the sinking feeling of despair and comfort of not addressing the issue. It’s not easy learning and growing your emotional well being when you don’t have a role model that could show you the proper way to process your feelings without turning to alcohol and getting black out drunk, then blaming someone else and falling deeper in the cycle of this disease.

You feel hopeless. Helpless. Depending on how early you are in the cycle, kids are usually innocently roped in by default and usually have to be the helper for the inebriated household adult. They don’t fully understand, but think if they help things will be okay. They want the peace and to keep the peace. The adult is apologetic and crying and all over the place, even threatening violence and breaking out in violent episodes. I’ve seen a lot of these scenes. It was difficult to differentiate their life from mine. I thought it was me. I too felt their pangs of life from all their loved ones who died because of alcohol or abuse. I felt their guilt.

I had to break free and I don’t know how I did it except that I didn’t settle. I couldn’t. Something in me kept telling me to just keep going. Was it easy? No. Was I perfect? No. Did I give up? No. I dont know how to give up. It’s not in my blood and surely not something my parents taught me either.

It’s a breakable disease. It takes time. It takes people talking through their pains and not drowning them in vodka or marijuana. It isn’t easy either.

To make a short story long, the adult me has taken a lot of time to heal the child in me. To account for the events and circumstances that I have experienced and lived through. There were friends along the way that weren’t so fortunate. It’s hard.

I’ve since learned about emotional intelligence and how to manage emotions for the better. All my focus is on God and His goodness. His love for me. Thats what carries me through. Prayer, lots of prayer.

I am loved just as you are unconditionally and dont you ever forget it.

Those were some of my thoughts this morning as I prayed and now I have to get up and turn this TV off as it’s bothering me.

God bless and keep you always.

 

June 22, 2025

Morning thoughts with coffee!

Philippians 4:13—I can do all things through Christ.

Summer rain in Seattle. I loved summer rain growing up, only because I didn't see enough of it, now I prefer the warmth of the summer sun.

Breakfasts, lunches and dinners have been served by Amber and Kevin all week as I am bed ridden for a while.

Today is day five post-op and I am going cold turkey off oxy. Don't get me wrong, I am still in pain, but no pain no gain and no I won't be a hero, if it hurts like it did earlier this week (which made me cry) I will take something, or do something.

The pain will get worse before it gets better.

My breakfast is here and so I must go an nourish my healing body.