Because sometimes all lives don’t matter…

I feel like I will get so much backlash for this and quite frankly I don’t care.

The latest world events have weighed so heavily on me. I feel like I’ve built up so much outrage that I haven’t been able to articulate and if I don’t now then it’ll spill out of the seams.

Black lives matter. All lives won’t matter until Black lives matter because black lives ARE apart of all lives. Anyone who ignores this fact is racist and fall victim to their implicit biases. It’s not a matter of opinion anymore. It was never a matter of opinion. It was a truth distorted by the loud, strategic oppressor. 

Some people, however, specifically non-people of color, specifically white people, try to discredit this fact because the narrative that is unfolding doesn’t suit their liking. Even while writing this I know that people will claim that I am being racist or biased or that I have my agenda because that narrative suits them best. I am not racist by any stretch of the imagination. I would almost consider myself “racially biased”.

Let’s think about it, shall we?

The definition of the word biased would be, “a particular tendency, trend, inclination, feeling, or opinion, especially one that is preconceived or unreasoned” or “unreasonably hostile feelings or opinions about a social group; prejudice” (dictionary.com).

The operative word in the definition being any derivates of the word “unreasonable”. History and a distinct and predictable pattern of perfidy would make being biased an impossibility. People of color are painstakingly aware of the influence that people in power have. Even more so, they are aware of the power that they wield and we all know that with great power comes great responsibility.

Read the next part carefully.

I am not condemning all white people.

Let me say that again for the people in the back.

I am not condemning all white people.

I am condemning the WHITE PRIVILEGE.

What I am saying is that white people aren’t doing enough to dismantle the systemic oppression that is racism. For all those ignoramuses, yes IGNORAMUSES, that suggests that racism ceased with President Obama or popular black athletes and performers, you are welcome to leave now!

I will not waste valuable brain cells explaining to you the reality of living in white America as a black person when you are clearly the #KarenofEverything.

For those who act as if racism and implicit and external don’t biases exist, I am thoroughly confused. You under that plot of X-men and Zootopia perfectly, but are too dense to see the parallel to life? I find this very highly unlikely.

I have to wonder where the disconnect is. Is it because pro-white means anti-black and people of color so vice versa is the assumption? Is it because the media has helped color your perception of black and other people of color? Is it that you do not experience the very oppression that you are so dismissive of?

Is it the way we protest?

Well, we tried peaceful sit-ins and that didn’t work. We tried Nat Turner’s was and that wasn’t to your liking. Martin Luther King Jr, Malcolm X, Colin Kaepernick, nothing seems to suit you. Maybe it’s the protesting that the real issue.

Whatever the reason, it’s not enough. We are no longer accepting your excuses. We drew the lines firmly in the sand with our bloodshed in the name of being an “American”. Before the oh so familiar idiotic phrase “If you don’t like it, go back where you from” leave your diluted racist little fingertips let me offer a history lesson. The Oppressor captured and brought our ancestors here, emphasis on the word “brought”. No one kept a receipt. We aren’t going anywhere. Your homework is to look up Black Wall Street because our utopia burned down too.

We are now united. Do you want to find out what we can do standing together as one?

Until next we meet,

S.Hollisway

Pick up Scarred and Faceless

Because sometimes you are the toxic one…

Stones,

Day 3046 of the Covid19 quarantine: I bought a stuffy. Her name is Elle. She is my only friend.

No seriously though, I hope everyone is being safe, social distancing, masks and all that. I am considered essential so yeah, no break for me. Which is fine because when I’m working thousands of ideas run through my mind.

Some call it ADD, I call it inspiration.

So people can suck. People can be cruel and evil and just plain mean. Hurt people hurt people, this we know. Toxic people are detrimental to the health of those around them.

What happens when that person is you?

Now lower the pitchforks and torches and hear me out.

I am not suggesting that everyone who is toxic is malicious. I’m simply stating that everyone deals with traumas in their own ways. Everyone has been through things and has suffered because let’s be honest, life sucks. Although everyone’s pain is valid, the way we react to trauma can be problematic. It’s not logical to hurt someone because you are hurting. Most people don’t plan on. The issue comes to play when people act as if their pain is bigger and more traumatic or matters more than another person.

We as people don’t get to quantify trauma. It’s not possible and it’s unfair. We also don’t get to mentally and emotionally bleed everywhere. That is misplaced aggression and anger and is also unacceptable. There needs to be a balance between the validation of feelings and respect for others. No trauma trumps any others because we are all different and the same trauma could impact everyone differently.

So my call to action is…

Reevaluate your relationships. Reevaluate your positions in the lives of others. If you find that you are the toxic one, be aware of that. Make a conscious effort to get help to change it.

There was a person in my life that I miss very much. We ended horribly because of me and my actions. I may never get to repair said relationship because of my past traumas that leaked into unaccountability. That’s on me for not healing.

Being aware of you crap and fixing your cap are two very different things.

Until Next We Meet,

S.Hollisway

Scarred and Faceless Here

Because sometimes chasing dreams and motherhood don’t mix…

Stones,

First of all, I got a new logo that included in the post. Let me know what you think. I think it came out fantastic. It makes me really happy and proud as an author.

But back to this weeks epiphany.

So for those of you who don’t know, I gave birth to a little monster by the name of Oscar. I have talked about him in previous posts more notably my first Odes post here. He is one a very large part of why I am still alive today. I love him with every breath in me. As much as I love him, motherhood is absolutely terrifying.

No seriously, there should be some sort of test because I’m positive that I would have failed. I can honestly say that I have NO idea what I’m doing. I love my little monster and I would do anything for him so he’ll have a better life. But as far as a plan, yeah I’m kind of clueless. My basic strategy is to give him a childhood that he doesn’t have to heal from. That is basically my sole purpose in life.

The only issue with being a parent and especially a mother is that people expect mothering to be your only goal and sole purpose in life. I’m not sad to admit, that it’s not mine.

I have other dreams.

I have other goals.

There are a lot of things I want to do and achieve.

It’s not selfish of me to want to be more than a mother as long as I’m not neglecting my child.

This goes for EVERY mother. You are so much more than just a mother. Don’t let motherhood be your only credentials.

There are so many things I want to do. I am a writer. That is a passion of mine that I want to share with the world. No one should be limited because of a title.

Until next we meet,

S.Hollisway

Storytelling is important sometimes because…

Stones,

I feel as though storytelling is for the masses.  Certain stories just have a way of resonating with people in a way that benefits them. This is not a happy story.  It doesn’t have a happy ending. It has an ending that is typical because life is typical. Although every story is unique, no story is special in the sense of tragedies. Everyone goes through them. Everyone suffers.

“Life’s a bitch, and then you die.”

-Narrorator of 1000 Ways to Die

Being homeless in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania was an adventure, to say the least. I wouldn’t dare use any word synonymous with “enjoyable” nor would I recommend this experience to anyone. It’s almost like going to prison, an experience you would exchange for just about else.

I was one of the lucky ones. I never completely got engrossed in the lifestyle. I had a job, had meager funds to buy things, and wasn’t active in my drug addiction  (over 2 years clean and sober!)

There’s so much to know about being homeless. So many unspoken rules to follow. So many secrets you need to know.

Like I mention before, I had a job.  So I’d wake up, go to work and endure the nonsense of earning a paycheck. I loved my job. It was a break from all the craziness and the politics of being outside.

On days, when I didn’t work, I’d go to the local homeless shelter where you could sleep and eat lunch a noon.  It was like being in school. There were rules that had to be followed and monitored very carefully by staff. There were all sorts of things you could do there. Like take a shower, get clean clothes, get mail, get your hair cut, it was a homeless paradise.  There was also tones of trouble you could get into to, so they kicked us out at.

Then it was back to killing time til Dinner time.

There were always people coming to feed the homeless. Some people were forced to but the majority were just decent people. They’d bring huge spreads with a variety of foods for us too. Granted with the amount of us it wouldn’t last but it was, it was still delicious. After dinner, all there was left to do was kill time until nightfall. And nightfall was when all the drama began.

Nightfall was when the drugs and alcohol came out. It was when all the drama started. There was no shelter to it. The best you could do was stay out of it.  It helped to stay with people who had a sense of immunity to it. Or at least people who favored you enough to keep you out of it. I was lucky.  I ran with people who had jobs as well. People who could separate themselves from the drama. People who took care of themselves. When you are homeless, it’s important to remember to put yourself first and not get absorbed into the world around you.  Always remember, that you don’t want to make this temporary situation a permanent one.

Mine was temporary. After about 3 months, my father invited me to stay with him. Things worked out for a while, but not permanently. My point is every situation, however good or bad is not permanent. Things change in the blink of an eye. Stay ready, and be prepared.

Until next we meet

Breath and Exist,

S. Hollisway

Pick up Scarred and Faceless Here

Broken Hearted Girl Chronicles Part 1

Stones,

So much has been going on lately. I’ve been absent, indifferent, and unmotivated. But just recently I was hit with a spark of inspiration and post a poem that’s been eating away at me for a while. It’s been so long since I’ve written anything. Let me know what you think.

 

Not My Place

It’s not my place

To ask you to stay

I mean

What can I really say?

Fact is

I’m not your actual kid

And what you did

And have already done

Is more than enough

A battle you’ve won

That wasn’t yours to fight

What she’s doing isn’t right

And it’s your right

To walk away

But I’m pleading with you

Dad
Please Stay

 

Until we speak again

Bleed and exist,

S. Hollisway

 

 

 

 

Because sometimes it’s too much….

Stones,

Let’s admit it, as exciting as life can be it’s exhausting. Good times or bad, life has a way of draining the life out of us. It’s inevitable, so what can we do to ease the pain? We could commit ourselves to institution for safe keeping, (ill advised). We could live recklessly embracing life with no worry of tomorrow, (also ill advised). Or we could do something even scarier, live for ourselves.

I know we all may be thinking that we do live for ourselves already, but stop and think. When we sign up for that extra math class we hate or eat that salad instead of steak or use the fat free low calorie yogurt instead of the regular kind, who are we living for? Are we happy with our decisions?

We know our families and friends mean well but the best thing about advice is it’s like a buffet, we can take what we need and leave the rest at the table. They may mean well but we know ourselves. We know what we need and what will make us happy. And what won’t.

If the issue is deeper, like someone said something years ago that hurts you and changed your perspective on things. For example, someone said you don’t look good in yellow so you always stick to black. Or someone made a “harmless” comment about your weight that you haven’t healed from. Things like that are difficult to get over because the little seeds of hatred and self doubt start to grow roots. The rooms take him hold and grow into withering plants of self hatred. I know that it can get hard to get rid of. But right here right now, it’s time to let go.

Sounds impossible right, imagine this: Imagine going to that plant everyday and digging off one root up each day. Just one. One root. Imagine the roots don’t grow back after being pulled. Now if you did this every day, soon the plant would be powerless. That’s what we should do. Debulk one myth everyday. This myth could be one we’ve been told or one we tell ourselves. I say “myth” because although they feel like truths clingling to our skins, they aren’t.

I’m ugly. I’m fat. I’m not good enough.

So what will be your new truth? Will you debulk your plant of doubt?

Until next we meet

Bleed and Exist,

S. Hollisway

Be sure to pick up your copy of Scarred and Faceless

Because sometimes being selfish is okay….

Stones,

Would you describe yourself as selfish? How many times have you been called selfish? What was the immediate reaction, to defend yourself? Why?

Who says being selfish is a bad thing? I’m not convinced. See, the definition of selfish is *”concerned chiefly with one’s own profit or pleasure”. So, what’s wrong with that?

Admittedly, being over selfish is not good, much like everything else in life in excess. But being concerned with one’s own pleasure isn’t called being selfish. It’s called self preservation.

Taking time to do self care isn’t selfish. Taking to time to rejuvenate isn’t selfish. Replenishing and putting onself first to keep going the next day isn’t selfish. Running out of a burning building before everyone else isn’t selfish. And if it is, then be a bit more selfish.

Be selfish with your time. Be selfish with your energy. Be selfish with tears. Be selfish with emotions. Be okay before giving to anyone else. Be selfish for your own well being. Be selfish and save yourself, then the rest of the world.

Until we meet again

Bleed and Exist,

S. Hollisway

Scarred and Faceless

Because sometimes business meetings are everyday….

Stones,

This morning I woke up with the fear of presenting a business plan to a bank for a loan for a business venture. I woke up early, brushed my teeth, washed my face, and twisted out my hair. In the process of all the hair fluffing and talking myself up in the mirror, I began thought about what outfit would make me feel the most confident. I picked a black dress with grey accents with pockets because a dress with pockets is the gift that keeps giving. Suddenly, I got a phone call rescheduling my meeting. It felt like someone had deflated my balloon and emptied my bucket.

I plopped down on the bed disappointed. I had done all these things to make myself feel beautiful and confident and it had gone to waste. Although, it really had not.

I felt very good about my appearance and the way I looked. I got up early enough to not rush and could pick out my look for the day. I had enough time to recite my affirmations to build and inner glow I took with me all day. I got dressed and had a much more productive day.

I say all that, to say this. If you or I or everyone woke up every morning like it they were preparing for a business meeting, there may be a change in mindset. Not a business meeting you are frazzled and stressed out about, but one you are prepared for. One that you own and fills your stomach with butterflies of happiness and excitement. Dress for a business meeting everyday. Then go out and make yourself proud.

Until next we meet

Bleed and Exist,

S. Hollisway

Scarred and Faceless

Because sometimes life happens so fast….

Stones,

It’s been a very long time since we’ve had the chance to talk.  So much has happened since September.  I will try to fill you end without writing a novel in the process.

Well first of all, I was homeless. Less of the “couch bouncing” homeless and more of the flat out “sleeping on the streets, in tents” type of homeless. It was quite the experience. Let me tell you. Most people would assume that the homeless only had to worry about the elements. This is sadly untrue. A lot of people would also assume that most of the homeless are homeless through pure fault of themselves, or that they were all addicts who lost everything due to addiction and live that way to stay in their addiction. This is again false.

Most of the homeless are a very caring group of people. It’s like a family. They may have nothing, but if you’re in need, they will break their nothing in half and give it to you. Of course there are little spats now and then but at the end of the day,  they are family. However, with everything else in the world, there is a dark side. Being homeless can be like, being on an episode of “The Walking Dead”. As dangerous as everything else is, the other people are the most dangerous. In the end, it’s survival on it’s most basic and instinctual level. Some are cruel, conniving, angry, hateful people who will do anything to get a head. Sometimes not even to get ahead, just for the sake of doing it.

So, there was that.

Then, my father couldn’t take it anymore and asked me to move in with him and my mother. I did. It’s been a roller coaster here. My relationship hasn’t gotten any better. If at all possible, it’s gotten worse, along with the majority of my other family.  So, that has been wonderful. (My father has made a few other appearances in blogs —–> Dad’s feature Blog . He’s a reoccurring character. )

But the most amazing thing happened. I got a chance to write. I’m in therapy and I have medication with a pretty solid diagnosis. But I got to write. I’ve gotten a chance to pull out a little piece of me, stitch it together, and offer it up for people to view. It is absolutely terrifying but, if I didn’t do it now it was never going to get done. There is no “Perfect Time”.  Not to publish a book. Not to get married. And definitely not to have a kid. Just dive in head first and make sure you look good doing it.

Oh, and I started school. Yes, you are reading from an author/soon to by psychologist. So I will get back on a schedule with posting here. I’m also going to be redesigning the entire blog so that should be nice.  So much is going on and so much more is going to happen.

Ever wish time would just stop for a second, just a chance to catch to catch your breath? Me too. Unfortunately, I think this may be my only chance for a while,

Until we meet again stones,

Make a real connection with someone

Change someone’s life for the better

Forgive to heal your soul

Watch the world implode with a drink and a friend

Be Brave

Bleed and Exist,

S.Hollisway

Scarred and Faceless

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