CNF: Blades

With a small pink razor, stolen from another foster kid, I shave at the sporadic hair on my legs. I hear her voice, my adoptive mother’s, in my head with each down sweep of the blades, ‘if you shave your legs the hair will grow back thicker. Then you’ll have to keep shaving and shaving. Forever.”

I don’t care. I want to be like everyone else, baby smooth skin that’s soft to touch. The way it used to be. I want to wear dresses and shorts without feeling the prickly spikes of embarrassment move against flowy material. I curve my hand slightly but it’s just enough for the blade to nick my adolescent skin.

Sucking in a quick breath at the sharp sting, I watch as a bead of blood wells to the surface. It slips down and taints my skin. I watch it still and I get an idea. It blooms in me like a rose. It’s petals vibrant. I push on the nick and pause to watch more blood follow the path of the razor, down toward my ankle where it pools in the divot near my heel. I know what to do. I’ve heard about it from one of the girls that slept in the basement rooms. She talked about a friend who found a way out. Of pain. Of fear. Of abandonment. Because, even at eight years old, I know exactly what that word means.

I know what the word feels like. The way it wraps around your throat, each letter like fingers tightening as they mold to the contours of your flesh. I know what it sounds like. Rain pattering against window panes as you’re left behind. Watching the cars drive by, wondering if you’ll be remembered or if they will go on with ‘family’ day without you. I know what it looks like. The way it swirls in the air, red in the color of betrayal.

So, I want what she had. The slow release as you feel the Everything fade away. I want to end it all.

***

I’m back in the bathroom and I’m ready. I’ve set myself up by announcing that I haven’t yet showered. My mother tells me she knows, without looking up from whatever is more important. She says that she can smell the Fonk on me. “You’re the first one to notice your own stink,” she’s told me so many times. This time, I wonder if it’s just another lie she tells.

I look in the mirror, a reflection that I can see only by standing on the toilet, and I nod. Then I’m smiling like a loon. Here we go. Climbing down, I grab the razor from the lip of the sink and dig my tiny fingers between the plastic sides. With much force, it cracks, but the part with the blades held fixed.

“I can’t even get this right,” I say in a low whisper. The hot tears come fast, welling and falling before I can blink them away. I’m grabbing and pulling and the sharp edge is slicing at the pads of my fingers. I feel the pain but am determined. I might even like the pain. The way with each slice brings up a paper thin flap of flesh.

Sitting on the toilet lid, I pull up my knees and yank until finally the blades are free. They are wet with sticky blood and I almost yell triumphantly. Dropping the rest of the razor to the floor, I bite the fleshy inside of my cheek, sit two blades on the windowsill and take the third in between my fingers. It’s a precious jewel that I cradle fondly, for a few seconds.

Then I’m cutting. Down and down, until I break through the skin and the lean meat of my small wrist. It’s hot, the area of incision, and I wait for the blood. It slips over my skin and drips onto my knee. It’s fascinating and I sit transfixed under the spell.

Next to the first line I make another, pushing until the skin is broken and then I’m frowning. It doesn’t hurt as bad. The initial shock – gone. Switching to my non-dominant hand, I slice into my right wrist and there the adrenaline is again. It fills me and I close my eyes. I roll back my shoulders and stand a little straighter. I’m in control. This is my body. No one can tell me what to do with my own flesh. They can’t take my limbs from me and I will do whatever I want with them. I am defiant, as everyone always tells me, and I’ve taken it in stride.

With the second cut I go deeper, longer than the other three, and I feel a jolt in my hand. A tingle that spears through each finger, then circles up to my elbow and round my shoulder. The shock of it sparks fear and I drop the blade to my feet, where it narrowly misses the bathroom carpet. I sigh in relief as it settles against the tile with barely a sound. A whimper escapes as the pain grows and I’m watching the blood fall quicker from this fourth cut. I scramble to gather toilet paper to the wrist, and it spins off the roll, spilling in white sheets onto the floor. My left wrist has caught up. It’s dripping profusely and I jump up to stand over the sink.

I didn’t want to end it today, I think. I just wanted to practice. I just wanted to see if I could. If it was easy. My chest is tightening, breaths a quick staccato against the silence of the bathroom. ‘She had a panic attack and…’ I remember one of my teachers saying, after I nearly passed out a few months ago, and I stand up straight. I hold my breath, hoping to stop the rising sense of relinquishment. Then I’m counting; One, Two, Three, Four. The blood has slowed, I see. I flick on the faucet and run both stained wrists under the cool water. It stings and I’m sucking in another breath.

I hear someone calling my name. Dinner! I’d completely forgotten. I’m turning the water on full blast now, hoping to wash away my sins. The water irritates the cuts and blood flows again. A vicious cycle. I feel stupid. Useless. Like the waste of space that I am. We have dinner every night. How could I forget that?

Finally, I cut the water (to the faucet and the shower) and I’m wrapping my wrists in wads of toilet paper. I quickly grab the blades from the sill and the one from the floor and wrap them too. I stick them in the small pocket of my jeans and the towel that is in the color assigned to me. Wrapping my wrists, doubly now, I make a quick exit into the adjacent bedroom. My name is called again and I yell that I’m putting my clothes on.
In my room, I change and put on a cropped jean jacket. It’s long sleeved and the material snags on the wadded toilet paper on my wrists. I slide the buttons closed and look at myself in the mirror. My eyes are wide and I know I look feral. There’s a thin line of wayward blood across my check and I’m wiping. Wiping, and wiping and scrubbing it away. I’m scrubbing and then I’m hitting. I’m smacking a small hand against my check for being so stupid. Then I know I must end it. Just not today.

***

At the dinner table, I sit with my hands in my lap, mock respect. My adoptive mother is going on about how it’s ‘just so rude’ for me to make everyone else wait while I lollygag. I do this so often, so late, all the time. Maybe another punishment is in order. Why does she always have to punish me? How I can’t be more important than everyone else. “That’s not how the world works,” she says.

I get it, at least, I think I do. I’m not important and shouldn’t make myself out to be. “You can’t be something you’re not’ was another of her admonishments. I nod and she corrects me ‘use your words’. I look up and she’s staring right at me. Everyone is. Can they see what I’ve done? I shove my hands further into my lap and depress the urge to wince as the cuts in my wrists grind against the now sticky toilet paper.

“Hello?” she says to me, sarcastically drawing out the O, and I’m looking around. My brother is smirking at me from across the table and I jump. He’s holding a plate of warm garlic rolls in my direction. I can see butter melting in the slits topping each one. Gingerly I lift my arm to take the plate, and a roll, before passing it on. She has a screwed look, the one where her lips go to one side and her eyes narrow. I can see it from the corner of my eye and I think any minute. Any minute now and she’ll ask what’s wrong and that’ll be the worst.

I’m a horrible liar, I know. I fidget in my seat and then dig into my food that she’s already plated due to my tardiness. It satisfies her and she begins her rounds of the table, everyone having their turn in the spotlight. “How was your day? What did you do? Did you learn anything?”

I take a deep breath around a bite of thick mashed potatoes and relax. ‘One day but not today,’ I think. I sit and listen as everyone tries to find something interesting to say and pretend they did. When it comes around to me I think of my wrists. I think of something I might say.

“I slit my wrists today. I didn’t want to kill myself, only see if it would be easy – should I want to. It hurt. It hurt so bad that it felt good. I still want to kill myself, one day. But for now I just want to revel in the pain that sears through my body. It makes me think of everything that has ever been done to me, will ever be done to me, and how this is different. It’s me, saying what goes. Saying WHEN,” I pretend to say. Instead, I shrug.

“I finished reading my new book,” I say.

“I thought you just got that book yesterday,” she says between bites of fried chicken.

“I did. And I finished it. It was fantastic. It was about…”

“So that’s what you were doing in your room. Didn’t I tell you not to spend all day up there reading? Those people aren’t real. How will you ever learn anything about making a human connection, about god’s creatures, about the true meaning of life, if you just have your nose stuck in a book? All…” I stopped listening. This is what she did.

I feel that I know what she is trying to do. I know she is trying to make me ‘likeable’. One day she will say I’m too blunt, straight forward. Others say I’m tactful but I’m not a liar (usually) and so people can depend on me to give unbiased opinions on whatever their problems are. And, after taking my advice, they thank me. One day they’ll say I have a light that radiates from me. People feel happier around me because I am luminous. At eight, this wasn’t me. I was selfish, embarrassed, angry, reserved, I liked books over people. Hell, I liked bacon over people. But it wasn’t until that day, sitting there listening to her explain how books will never make me happy, that I realize books can make me happy.

Books can make me positive, optimistic, and light. They can teach me about the human connection, about god’s creatures, about the true meaning of life. They can show me a full way to live. And I don’t want to kill myself anymore. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve tasted the touch of the blades and – while feeling the rush of power when hiding them at the dining table – I want to keep that power. But I also want to keep my life. I want to try. So I vow, as she drones on about the downfall of antisocial behaviors, I won’t try to kill myself until I’m at least 18 and if life hasn’t gotten better by them – I’m gone.

So, I have to do anything and everything I can to live a better life. No more tantrums, no more fights, no more angry words flowing through my brain. And hopefully, instead of dead I’ll one day be luminous.

Goodbye February 2020! 7 Books Read!

Heya!

I wanted to share my February reads with you! These are the books I was able to finish. It’s been a busy month. I haven’t been able to get through some that I wanted to, I also was able to finish others in less than a day. You know how it goes, sometimes you choose a book because you think it will be beneficial to your writing or your business, or personal growth, but once you actually start reading it you wonder if you just aren’t ready for it at that time (which happens) or if the book really is…EH.

That was a lot in one sentence but you know exactly what I mean. I didn’t have a specific GOAL in mind, numbers or lists wise, but I knew that I wanted to make sure I made reading a priority. Despite all that’s happening with school, my little baby, my guy, and trying to eat and cook healthier meals that cross cultural bounds. Sounds cool but really…I just want to make some new shit because I’m tired of the stuff I always make.

This is great for Overdrive though, because I can listen to audio books while I cook – if I’m not watching cooking shows, and that helps me get into the narrative more. Anyway, here are the books that I finished!

 

Here are the books that I either was unable to get to this month or that I found a bit EH starting off. As you can see I’ve added three books by African American authors, in the spirit of Black History Month, and yet I wasn’t able to get to them. I still have them though – the physical copy, EBook, or audio book – and I do plan to get to them this month (March)!


If you have any books you would like to suggest or have read any of these let me know in the comments! I’d love to chat with you about them. Be on the look out for new reviews!

This makes 20/120 books read for 2020 from January and February!

 

 

Good Readdance,
Jade

Book Review: The More of Less by Joshua Becker

To be clear, this book is [NOT] a memoir about my own journey in minimalism. Although I share some of my own story along the way to illustrate what I am saying and hopefully provide inspiration, the book isn’t about me. It’s about you. It’s about the joys of owning less. It’s about how to implement minimalism in a way that transforms your life for the better.

Heya,

When I first started this adventure into Minimalism, I knew one of the first things I would do is read books about the topic. I wanted to get first hand accounts from others who have become hoarders, or semi-hoarders, like me. Joshua Becker is one of the authors that I discovered while doing research.

less

I really liked The More of Less. It chronicles the time when Becker first discovered minimalism, via a neighbor, and the almost immediate change it made in his life. He goes on to give great advice on how to become a minimalist, inspiration from his own experiences, and ways to let minimalism set you free from the confines of clutter. Sounds woowoo, but he does it in a very tasteful way.

minimalismempty

“Minimalism…it may conjure up images of sterility, of asceticism, of bare white walls, of grim frugality, or of someone sitting on the floor because he doesn’t have any furniture. How boring and colorless! Who would want that?”

In one chapter, he lists all the misconceptions of minimalism, and what normal people – who haven’t done the research – decide what living with less means. A Cult. A Fad. A misguided attempt to feel sorry for all the things they bought on their over-extended credit cards. He talks about the different ways to combat these thoughts and how to discover for yourself what it truly means.

There’s a humorous tone to the novel that allowed me to feel that this whole ‘minimalism’ thing doesn’t need to be stuffy or stuck up or serious or devoid of emotion and color. (One chapter’s title is The Battle of the Jell-O Molds) It can be jovial and exciting and tiring but yet exhilarating. That last one I felt, myself, when I went through my first de-cluttering session. I’d taken all the boxes of books out, for donation, and my table was completely clear. I could see the white! There’s was a feeling of euphoria as I noticed that it looked so together. So…adult-ish.

Finding the Life You Want Under Everything You Own

At the end of the book, Joshua Becker includes his chapter notes on minimalism. From there you can get the names of authors, books, articles, and bible versus that have inspired him in his journey.

 

I would definitely recommend this to all newbie minimalists who are looking for guidance on starting out. If you’ve already read this book and want to discuss it, leave a comment below. I’m always down to chat with you guys!

 

Joshua Becker Creator of BecomingMinimalist.com

 

 

Good Readdance,
Jade

P.S. Yes, I hope to start writing book reviews again! Follow the blog to get more updates.

Goodbye January 2020! 13 Books Read!

I’ve read 13 out of 120 books for 2020 so far!

Heya!

It is officially the second month of the new decade! How are you feeling? How was your January? Did you read any books that you loved in January? Did you create a Reading Goal for this year?

I have a goal of 120 books for the year 2020.

I wanted to keep my goal realistic as I have a tiny human, a small business, am a full time student while prepping my grad school applications, and I’m also focusing on my own writing. One goal that I made was to take time to read every day. That way no matter what life does to me I am still doing something I love consistently.

Curling up with a great book is almost always the answer!

I’ve split between audio books and physical books. Sometimes I have to do so many things around the apartment, or I’m commuting, and I can’t hold a book in my hand. I’m chasing Naomi, feeding Naomi, changing Naomi, doing homework or cooking, etc, etc, etc, etc, I could go on. Audio books and a pair of blue tooth headphones are essential for a new mom!

(As I type this Naomi has given up playing with her toys. She stood fussing at the side of my chair until I picked her up. So now I’m typing this one handed. Perfect example of when an audio book would be useful!)

us

This is a busy life!

January Books: 

I was able to get in books on minimalism and meditation, a handful of romance novels, a nonfiction graphic novel, science fiction, and paranormal romance!

Also!! This crazy thing happened. The other day I was tired of trying to find a book to read, going through my endless TBR, so I randomly chose an audio book on my way to school. I didn’t read the synopsis or anything. The cover intrigued me so I clicked “Borrow”. It was The Oxford Inheritance by A. A. McDonald. I looooved it. It was fantastic. I really enjoyed listening while the story unfolded.

Then today I was at the $1 Store and I saw the book in person! It was a complete and utter surprise and I knew I had to buy it. I know, I know. “How are you keeping up with minimalism if you keep buying things?” you might ask. I loved this book. It sparked joy for me. And that’s all the criteria I’m using before I buy something and bring it into my home.

oxford2

In total I’ve read 13 out of 120 books.

Good Readdance,
Jade

The Book That Saved

As a child I was very reserved and even the thought of conversation with strangers would send me into sweating fits. My skin would get clammy and I would struggle to get out a ‘hi’ or ‘how are you?’ People didn’t make sense to me. Adults were liars or people who looked through me instead of ‘at’ me. Other kids were too young and immature for me. I could relate to no one. I had the bare minimum of the required social skills and that was the way I liked it.  

In this, I snuggled deeper. A Life of solitude so that no one could hurt me or let me down. I didn’t have to worry about fake friends or fake family. Even though, admittedly, a part of me wanted to belong to someone. Anyone. Then I found books. They enveloped me in their arms and I fell head first. Around the age of seven I discovered romance. The chemistry that could form between a man and a woman. I discovered fantasy, and all the things our imaginations could create. I also discovered thriller and mystery, and the questions and answers to human nature and what could bring the darkness.

In this new world of Worlds, I discovered The Golden Compass. 

I was adopted by a Christian family headed by die-hard pastors with no grey area. Black and White. Right and Wrong. Only god. Only Jesus. Books that were about things called ‘Daemons’ (the name was just entirely too close), animals that talked, a girl who would be the savior or the answer to everything, the layers of universes and the questioning of creation were not allowed. Part of me wondered if this was the initial reason I fell in love with the book. It wasn’t just one thing. I didn’t have to be this ‘perfect little girl’. Lyra wasn’t.

I hid the book among the sheets and pillowcases of my bed so that no one would find it. I read it over, and over, and over again. I pretended that I had my own Daemon, it was an Owl. What I then would call my spirit animal – before I had even heard of Native Americans or their claims to that ideal. I would pretend that outside my window I could hear one calling to me. “Hoot, hoot..hoot, hoot…Jaden” (as I’d taken to calling myself). 

This wise creature would answer my questions and help guide me through life. It would let me know when things were too bad. When I should fold into myself, when the bad things were happening. And when, at 9, I wanted to take my life it fluttered it’s wings and put them around me. I lay on the top bunk in the yellow bedroom I lived in and closed my eyes to the moonlight. I pretended that my Daemon hopped about the branches, causing them to scrape against the window. It told me to wait, to see if things got better, to think of better days when, like Lyra, I would be free to bound about free from the confines of the foster home.

Then I made the mistake. It’s bigger than that. I made “The Mistake”.

As a child, my brother and I would go to our adopted Aunt’s house for respite. We would stay there when my parents wanted a vacation, or to just be free of us (of me and all my behavioral issues). I loved my Aunt. She wasn’t as strict as my adopted mother. She was free and light and did things like: make gross homemade pizza under the guise of health (I loved that disgusting pizza), stroke her hand down my frizzy hair like she loved me, tell me that Jesus loved me no matter where I came from or who (like an evil biological mother). I loved her so much that I let my guard slip. I didn’t realize that she was just as religious as my mother. If not more – but just in a different way? I brought my book with me. I slipped it into my weekend luggage and, once I made sure my adopted parents were gone, I stowed it in the room I slept in during our stay. 

As the weekend went on, I felt more and more comfortable and I felt it was time. Just after dinner, I clamored up the stairs to my temporary room. I clutched The Golden Compass by Philip Pullman, with it’s embossed cover, to my chest and returned to the living room. I curled into a plush chair and opened the first page for what could’ve been the 20th time.

At first, she was curious. “What are you reading?” I responded excitedly, explaining how it was my favorite book. How I’d saved up my allowance ($1 for every day of the week, but some how my mother always found something wrong with everything I did, even when I tried my best. I never got a full $7 in the end) to buy this book. That I loved it with my whole heart. How it, and Lyra, was my whole heart.

She took my heart in her hands and read the back. She flipped through it, reading here and there. Her mouth set in a thin line and, with two hands that curled into claws, she gripped the book tight. Then she ripped. She tore. First a few pages, then more. The cover of the book hit the floor and scrapes of Lyra’s adventures followed. At first, I couldn’t cry. My mouth dropped open and, in a flutter of feathers, I could almost see my Owl pacing in anger. 

Then the tears fell. A deep guttural pain welled up and poured out through my mouth. I was ‘the wailing woman’ and I couldn’t stop it. She didn’t love me. She never did. She hated me and everything I stood for, I thought at the time. I didn’t listen as she spewed venom about how Christians didn’t read such filth. That it wasn’t god-like. In that moment I didn’t want to be god-like, or Jesus-like, or christian-like. I wanted to be Lyra. I wanted to be free and adventurous. In that moment, I knew it would never happen, just knew.

I was wrong. Thank god.

 


(I will add, I now how a beautiful copy of the His Dark Materials series as well as the short – Lyra’s Oxford)

 


Good Readdance,
Jade

Meditation and Mindset

Heya,

As a part of the 31 Days of Introspection, I jumped into meditating. I read several books on the matter (You can find these in my Books: Minimalism, Meditation and Mindset post) and excitedly found time to meditate while at school, after my workout at the gym, while commuting (with my eyes open, of course) and before bed at night. I loved it.

Another thing that really made me excited about meditating is the app Headspace. At first I signed up for the free trial and then used the app’s free sessions. I love the cute little animations before each session and the topics were always great. I even made a google sheets page so I could keep track of the amount of times I meditated and for how long. My longest run was 15 days straight.

Then I fell off.

My parents came to town and quickly I forgot all of the things I wanted to implement for 2020. I didn’t intend to but everything disappeared in that first week. However, no need to dwell! Today I officially signed up for Headspace’s student account. It’s $9 a year instead of the normal $99 a year. —So if you’re a student, SIGN UP!!!

I plan to continue using the google sheet to keep track of the days I meditate and use my 2DR to stick to my Cherchez La Vie goals. If you do sign up, let me know!

 

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Good Readdance,
Jade

 

(this isn’t sponsored. If you use another meditation service let me know! I’ll check them out!)

 

* From a newbie to other newbies! *

Books on Minimalism, Meditation, and Mindset

Heya,

Because I’m a reader, above all else, I just knew that I had to share my list of books to help me dig deeper into Minimalism, Meditation, and Mindset. I usually lead a busy life due to school and Naomi and so lately I’ve been listening to a lot of the books through Overdrive.

Overdrive is an app (don’t worry, it can still be used through browser) that syncs to your library account. It is completely free. You can either get audio books to download or listen in browser, or you can get the eBook. It’s absolutely fantastic for when you need to be hands free – like when holding a baby or on your commute to work or school. Otherwise, the library is a great way to save money and space should books be an aspect you are minimizing.

If you’ve read any of these let me know! Also, if you have some great books about these topics, put them in the comments. I’d love to check them out!

That’s where this list came from! 

FYI: I’ll be adding to this list as I go and I’ll put a big fat X next to the ones I’ve completed. Check the KEY at the end. I hope to write short reviews of these books as well. 

Fingers crossed! 

Books on Minimalism: 

X —The Minimalist Home by Joshua Becker
XThe Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up by Marie Kondo (Manga or Book version)

X —The Happiness Equation: Want Nothing + Do Anything = Have Everything by Neil Pasricha

—The Power of Less by Leo Babauta

X — Soulful Simplicity by Courtney Carver

X—The More of Less by Joshua Becker

—Better Than Before by Gretchen Rubin

C — Everything That Remains by The Minimalists

— Essentialism: The Disciplined Pursuit of Less by Greg McKeown

 

Books on Meditation: 

X — Meditation for Fidgety Skeptics by Dan Harris — A 10% Happier How-To Book
X — 10% Happier: How I Tamed the Voice in My Head, Reduced Stress Without Losing My Edge, and Found a Self-Help That Actually Works—A True Story by Dan Harris

 

Books on Mindset:

C —The Checklist Manifesto: How to Get Things Right by Atul Gawande

—How to Stop Feeling Like Shit by Andrea Owen

DNF — The Next Right Thing by Emily P. Freeman

— Adulting: How to Become A Grown-Up in 535 Easy(ish) Steps by Kelly Williams Brown

C — The Paradox of Choice by Barry Schwartz

—How to Be Here: A Guide to Creating a Life Worth Living by Rob Bell

 

Authors Suggested to Me:
Colin Wright
Courtney Carver
Leo Babauta
Joshua Becker

Good Readdance,
Jade

 

KEY:

X: Finished

DNF: Did Not Finish

C: Currently Reading/Listening

 

* From a newbie to other newbies! *

Cherchez La Vie December 2019

Goals! Goals! Goals! *to the beat of the SHOTS song*

Here is my quick Goals list for the first 6 months of 2020. I’m really excited because I have some great ones that I’ve already been putting into practice with my ideas from the 31 Days of Introspection.

I want to implement the “2 Day Rule”. This means that I can’t go more than 2 days without doing something towards my goals. I’ll put 2DR next to the other goals that must apply to this.

1. Meditation! I want to make sure that I am taking time out of my day to meditate and center myself. One of the great things to come out of the 31 Days of Introspection is learning all I could about releasing stress and calming myself before I freak out. 2DR.

2. “Schedule” class prioress for my online classes. One thing that I realized about myself is that I need to have specific times for each class. Just as if I would go to a Face to Face class, I need to say Tuesdays at 10 am I am going to work on Theory and Practice. At 11 am…etc. This will help me stay focused!

3. Gym LIFE!!! I currently weigh less than I did when I was pregnant with Naomi. However, I’m almost 20lbs more than I was when I first moved to Orlando. I actually thought I was on the heavier side back then and it surprises me to look back and find that I wasn’t fat at all and almost had a flat (albeit flabby) stomach. In all seriousness, I’d like to get back to that size. That’s a big feat though. So I’m hoping for 15lbs in the first 6 months of 2020. I want to tone. I would like to get rid of the ‘pregnant’ look, even when bloated. I actually just bought an ab roller today.

4. Stick to my nightly 10 Minute Clean Up. I want to make sure I’m keeping the apartment clean and tidy as much as I can. Doing this nightly clean up will help me stay focused and remember why I wanted to become a minimalist in the first place. 2DR.

5. Read!!! I want to make sure that I take time to read every single day. Being a full time student and a mom means I often have less time to read when I’m in the thick of a semester. I’m including both physical books and audio books into this! I love using Overdrive to get free kindle books through my library. I am also lucky that our library system delivers. I don’t have to leave my house if I am unable to! 2DR.

What are your goals for 2020? Any resolutions that are life changing? New career? Weight Loss?

Good Readdance,

Jade

31 Days of Introspection: Week 2: Social Media Hiatus

 

Answer my question in the comments to help me decide! 

 

Heya,

This Second week of 31 Days of Introspection has been so up and down. Great things and also crappy things. A destruction of my computer, my realization that I have  no real close friends, the joy of seeing Naomi grow and the upset at books being destroyed.

I do feel like I’ve made a ton of progress emotionally. The apartment is much better now as well. I’ve donated over 1,200 books and gotten rid of so much clutter. The sad thing is that I got the dates mixed up and I put everything out on the curb too early. I used a donation pick up service and we woke up the next day to find everything still there. It had rained the night before and all of the books that we’d set out were damaged. So the whole “they’re going to a good place” ideal is gone. My precious books didn’t go to a nice place. They won’t be enjoyed by some happy family. I didn’t do a “good deed” because all the books I’d collected over the years, and gazed at on my shelves, went to the trash.

So yeah. But at least my place has less stuff. Unfortunately, having less doesn’t fix my “messiness” and I’m struggling to keep things straightened. I know some people say you’ve got to clean as you go. I try so hard, but what ends up happening is I work work work, then I take a break, then work work work, and things get messier and messier. Then I am overwhelmed at that point and I don’t want to clean. Anyhow, I’m trying to get better and some days everything is together and some days it’s like today: work shop things everywhere.

So one of the crappy things that happened this week is the destruction of my MAC. I was holding Naomi and trying to feed her. Was sitting at the table and doing the whole breast milk from the refill bottle into empty drinking bottle and Naomi, happily and with a highpitched squeal, kicked out. The refilled bottle spilled on the Mac and the rest is history. That was a few days ago. No more YouTube videos, no more recordings for audio books, no more…no more a lot of things. I actually had to remove the “Lined” option for my journals for a day until I could create a new template using my IPad. Ugh, this is all just horrible.

So, apparently, it’s not worth it to fix my computer. I took it to the Mac store. They looked at it and they said it would cost $700 in order to fix it. In order for me to get a new one, or a Mac Book Air it would cost me $1100. That’s bullshit! How is it that expensive? That’s just crazy. I digress. I’m going to have to do everything I can to use my iPad for everything: university work, the business dealings, watching TV and anything else. I’ve never had to use it for all that stuff before so I honestly don’t know what all it can do. I’m just sad about it all.

ANOTHER great thing…NAOMI CAN CRAWL!!! OR at least…throw herself forward. It’s absolutely amazing to see her growing and progressing right before my eyes. She’s so beautiful, so luminous. Sometimes I just watch her, trying to discover things, trying to put things in her mouth, ew, and just…living. It’s all so amazing.

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So, in the beginning of this month I decided to take a social media hiatus. Last week’s summary was about how low my Twitch (the amount of times I itch to get on social media) was. This week you’ll be disappointed to find that I broke my hiatus. At first, I was upset about Google and their mandatory security practices, and needed to vent and I, admittedly, felt annoyed at myself that I broke my promise to myself. Then I thought “hmmm, well I’ve already broken my promise. I might as well go ahead and go all in”. Bad idea. I know. What I discovered is that no one cared. Cares. No one missed me. No one wanted to talk to me or wanted to reach out. No one remembered me or thought of me, that I could tell. In the spirit of honesty, because that’s what this month is all about, that’s one of my greatest fears. Being forgotten. Not being important. It stems from my deeply rooted issues with my childhood abandonment- fostercare, child abuse, and all that jazz.

So, when I noticed that most of my notifications were those “____ people commented on a photo/post you are following” I broke down. Not literally, there were no tears or complaining to my guy. NO posts filled with shade, “wondering” where everyone was. There was just silence. I felt numb. Resolved. This was a part of the reason I knew I needed to take a step back from social media. Other people shouldn’t be responsible for whether I feel important enough. Guess that’s the issue with replacing a true human connection with an artificial and electronic one. It kind of reminds me of the months after my daughter Iris Giana died. I was so alone, even my mom didn’t care, didnt call or reach out to me, even though I almost died. It was…distressing.

That being said, I  know what I’ll do at the end of the day. I’m resetting everything. I’m possibly making a my business FAcebook. I’m going to keep my Instagram and Twitter but I’ll limit my usage of them to over just a few hours a day. I’m letting the past go. The funny thing is that unless people read this post (is anyone really?) no one will know. I’ll just slip away. uGH. I wonder why this makes me want to take a deep breath and meditate.

So, was breaking my social media hiatus in a rushed need for my druglike fix worth it? Yes…and no. Yes, and no. But mostly yes, because I learned things.

 

So I’m thinking about becoming a pescatarian- with the exception of bacon, of course. I’m really wanting to try new things. I’m just bored with the same hubbub. The only thing is that fish is soooo much more expensive than chicken, beef, or turkey. Do you know any good pescatarian dishes? have you ever tried this lifestyle? Let me know your thoughts in the comments.

This week I downloaded a business app that will train me in skills every small business owner needs. It’s called Primer and it has great examples and animations so that anyone can learn. I just finished 2 lessons on branding and plan to do the marketing and advertisement lessons next.

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One of the awesome things I did this week is watch a ton of videos on product photography. I then went down to Lake Eola and took over 140 photos. Then,  because my computer is down, I had to take a trip to the library to upload everything. It worked out, if only because Naomi loves books, and I will be making changes to my shop as soon as I can. One of the best things in my entire apartment…my DSLR.

I’m also adding these new mini notebook sets to my shop. I’m really excited about it all. I feel like this will all work out. Everything will be ok. Be…just fine.

 

Happy Readdance,

Jade

31 Days of Introspection: Week 1: Meditation

Heya,

One of the greatest things I’ve realized that happens when you take a hiatus from social media is having more time for the things that you love. Mainly, Naomi.  I freaking love this little baby but I’m often doing school work when I am home, and my guy’s at work. I didn’t realize just how much time I spend on my phone until I stopped using it as much. When I wasn’t studying, I was crawling around on the floor with her, playing and reading books. I was able to get more bonding time with her while feeding because, instead of being on my phone scrolling through the latest Twitter feed, I’m gazing into her eyes.

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One thing that I have been doing since I started the 31 Days of Introspection is counting the Twitch. I’m not exactly sure who came up with this because I was watching dozens of videos on youtube at the time that I heard it, but the Twitch is that moment when you have an itch to reach for your phone. Most times, I want to whip my phone out and look at it during the slow points of my day. When you’re on the toilet, cooking, watching tv, in between browsing loads when doing homework, etc. I didn’t realize just how much it filled my time until I started counting it.

Th first day it was hard. As soon as the clock stroke midnight, I felt the Twitch. I wanted to post about it. I’ve been keeping track of them in my The Elyzabeth Collection journal and, because I’m using the grid pattern, I filled three lines of boxes. As the days of the week went on, I realized the Twitch became less and less often. By the 6th day, which I spent in a hotel with my guy (thanks to his mom being in town and watching Naomi to giving us a break), I only counted 3 Twitches! How crazy is that? I went from at least 20 by midday to 3. It just reaffirmed that I’m taking this Introspection month seriously.

Another thing that I really wanted to do for this month is meditate. I decided to first focus on my confidence and self-esteem. I’m not down on myself but I definitely feel that I could believe in myself more. Especially when it comes to starting my business, writing books, taking great photos, and my ability to share my creations with the world. After I meditate, using Headspace, I’m calm and relaxed. I’m able to truly think about the future, who and what I want to be. I write in my journal at that point. But at first, I wanted to dive right in, do 30 minute sessions but I’m glad that I decided to go with the free trial for Headspace. The sessions are only 3 minutes long and it’s helped me be consistent and get excited to do it. I’ve also been approved for the Student account- which is only $9 a year versus $99. I’ll definitely take them up on that offer after the trial period is over.

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I’m happy to say my hair looks fucking fantastic! I started dread locs on November 16th because I was already getting a bit lazy with my hair and I wanted to try something new that was low maintenance. My guy has been pushing me to do it for the last 5 years and I’ve finally given in. Yes, he’s excited. I’ll admit that I am as well. I feel…beautiful. Fucking beautiful. I started them with two strand twists but my hair is fine and thick and they quickly slipped out of the twist, as usual. I bought an interlocking tool and it’s made things so easy. What do you guys think?

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Another thing that I’ve decided to do is hand pour my coffee. It’s perfect timing because we literally just ran out of pods. I hadn’t known much about this before I became obsessed with Matt D’Avella‘s videos on Youtube. He has a channel that is inspirational, heavily talks about minimalism and productivity. He’s also the film maker behind the documentary Minimalism. It’s absolutely fantastic. I almost cried watching the movie and I truly believe his videos have changed my life. I am ready to take on minimalism, although it is hard to let go of my sentimental items, and look forward to this journey. I’ve already gotten rid of more than one thousand books. Anyone who knows me knows that is heart-wrenching. But it was needed.

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Speaking of books, I requested some from the library that I hope will help me on this journey to Minimalism. I’m so happy that our library system delivers! It’s one of the best things I’ve ever experienced snce moving to Florida.
These are the ones I’ve chosen:
Everything That Remains by The Minimalist (Ryan Nicodemus and Joshua Fields Milburn- from the documentary Minimalism)
The Minimalist Home by Joshua Becker
Meditation for Fidgety Skeptics by Dan Harris
The Cozy Minimalist Home by Myquillyn Smith

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I set a goal to achieve this week. I wanted to do something regarding my business. Whether that’s to create a logo, a website, take product photos (etc). Every week has something. I started with a bang! I’ve created a website for my small business! The journals I sell are a part of The Elyzabeth Collection, check out the new site and tell me what you think!

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Lastly, I’m still working on the actual ‘Minimalism’ part of this month. I didn’t realize that when I started getting things together everything would first fall apart. My apartment looks wrecked! Books, papers, boxes, and random miscellaneous items are everywhere. I’ve been attempting to use the KonMari method (Marie Kondo) and, although I’ve gone through the clothes and papers sections, I’m still not done. I keep going back to look at sections I’ve already done to declutter even more. I think that by the end of the month I will have even LEEEESSSSSS and I’ll still feel like there’s much to get rid of. It’s going to feel so good to have a safe place for Naomi to crawl and play.

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Thank you for reading this summary of the first week of 31 Days of Introspection. I want to be a new person in 2020. A Better me. I definitely feel that I am taking the steps, to do that, in the right direction.