Eruption

The Trapped Butterfly has been fighting for this opportunity for a few months after the tattoo artist she found to give her a private tattoo session failed her this fall. She finally found another private shop where they are very liberal about everything. She took her time researching the shop and the artists. She hemmed and hawed over reaching out to them.

See, her biological family, including her narcissistic mother, have tattoos and she always wanted one, but due to her inability to sit still due to her severe cerebral palsy as well as her low tolerance for pain, she never thought she could do it. After her beloved grandfather went to Heaven, she decided she wanted to do it and get one for her grandpa.

Nobody thought that it would work for her. As determined as she was, The Trapped Butterfly had her doubts about it. Then she researched it herself and found out that others with her condition had tattoos. She still remembers the day when her husband took her to a local tattoo shop to see if anyone was even willing to try it with her…Ahhhh….The days before Covid…The days before all hell really broke loose leading to pretty much constant trauma…The days when she was as free as she could be…

Anyway, the day they went to the tattoo shop, she was so anxious that they would just reject her. She hated rejection. But they didn’t reject her! She got the appointment for the day after her birthday and she got so fucking high for the tattoo and she did it!!

Since then, she can’t get enough ink. In the past 6 years she has covered her body with beautiful colors and artwork that reflect her and the different things she loves as well as the different traumas she has been through. Getting tattoos makes her have to remain in the present moment. Tattoos make her feel accomplished, successful, pretty, and in control. She has constant physical and emotional pain. Tattoo pain is her choice!!

She tries so desperately to keep her emotional pain under wraps but it comes out. And it came out this morning when she got a message from her, hopefully, new artist that she’s not able to get her in in the best time of day for The Trapped Butterfly and her husband. Well, her brain, even though she had just meditated, went into panic and fight and flight mode. She knows that this is a very difficult time of day for them to be getting her tattooed. It’s during dinner time and tattoos usually take 2 hours or more. When her husband wasn’t able to give her what she needed, she erupted.

She admitted that the time was awful. She wanted him to help. But he couldn’t help her, and then she felt backed into a corner. Trapped. Her wings fluttered frantically in attempt to right themselves and not let go of some freedom.

As trapped animals do, when he couldn’t help her, she lashed out at him. In this moment, he was an enemy to protect herself from. She could feel herself doing it again and couldn’t do anything about it. She screamed at him for not helping her even though he does everything for her. The Trapped Butterfly wanted him to understand and feel the pain she was feeling and said something stupid about him not being able to smoke cigars anymore. That led to the response of her being like her dad. Her dad was so selfish and narcissistic that he couldn’t be happy for anyone who had something that he wanted and couldn’t have.

She knows that she can be like her parents. But gawd damnit, she was fucking trapped for almost 3 years!!! Man, not even being able to do anything herself should make her bitter. She desperately wanted children but it didn’t work out, so she should be mad at people for having children. Fuck, she should be pissed at all abled-bodied people for being able to do everything but SHE’S NOT!!! Yes, throughout her life she has felt left out and depressed. She’s gotten envious and angry. But never to the point of her dad. She is not perfect. The majority of the time she’s truly happy for people because she’s got her own full life, or at least she did.

The comment only made her feel worse about herself as she had already felt bad for hurting him. Unfortunately, she was out of control so that comment was the breaking point and she screamed “I HATE YOU” over and over again and that he was like her dad and mother and she screamed her dad’s name over and over.

She screamed and flailed as she was in more pain about her out of control eruption of emotions that she couldn’t control until finally she started to cry and she started to be able to breathe and use some comfort phrases. She played the song, “Beautiful Girl” by Sarah McLachlan in her head to help calm her down and be like a mom talking to her daughter.

She took a while to calm but finally everything started to quit flailing around and she apologized for what she said but she expected it back. She isn’t perfect and she has a trigger about apologies being accepted and forgiveness. She was still in somewhat her head when he apologized and she already forgave him but she forgot to say it so she said it when he asked if she was going to tell him that she forgave her.

The Trapped Butterfly has to be selfish and see if this can be her new home and safe place. Here in rural country, there’s not much selection for tattoo shops and they have to be willing to work with her body as well as keep her and her husband safe from viruses that are spreading because people are selfish and won’t keep wearing masks and keep up with their vaccinations. It’s just bullshit that she continues to be trapped despite being up on all the vaccinations! So she made the decision to go ahead with her tattoo appointment with the new artist and hope for the best with the messed up schedule. Hope that she can release some of the agitation, the restlessness, the pain, the rage by getting really high on cannabis and the meds she needs for her body to relax as much as possible and feeling the pain of the needle going across her skin, stabbing her hundreds of times. The pain that is producing beauty on her body in which she gets to keep forever and ever.

While The Trapped Butterfly still feels very anxious about it for many reasons, the fact that the artist has already been so willing to work with her and responds to her is a hopeful sign. It will all work out. But in a few weeks The Trapped Butterfly will get some much needed freedom and relief!!!

Fuck you, Roo!!

Reader discretion advised.

She looks at the half finished tattoo that she started with someone that she thought was her soul sister. She has had many so-called “BFFs” or “sisters,” but like her fucking family, they ended up being mentally ill and/or narcissistic. Or maybe she just can’t keep BFFs even though she is so desperate for one.

Roo honestly was the closest thing to a “soul sister” that she had ever had. And yet, here she is with the half finished tattoo desperate to get it finished over a year and a half later.

But thanks to fucking Covid and other viruses currently going around, she can’t just go get it done. It blares at her every fucking day. Of course, she gets her hopes up for another artist to get it done but so far, either they don’t have time for her on a day off or they aren’t comfortable with finishing another artist’s work. So the very thing that is supposed to be giving her pleasure and remembering her beloved iguana, is like an open wound that won’t heal. She is so fucking tired of it. If she was physically able, she may have gotten nice and drunk and high to scratch the fucking thing off. She would rather have the bloody mess and scars than this unfinished constant reminder that her supposed “soul sister” literally fucked her over due to her beliefs that freedom and her ways are so important than everyone else’s. Roo wants to live her way even if it is hurting people. The Trapped Butterfly just wants her freedom back and she wants other people to actually look out for others to let her and her fellow butterflies free.

Yet, she is behaving “narcissistically” according to Roo. The very thing that The Trapped Butterfly thought was a bonding feature of the friendship (both of them have narcissistic parents) turned out to be the very thing to ruin their relationship. Roo’s own horrible abuse had turned her into a horrible, malicious narcissistic bully. Sad, really. Bullying and abuse begets bullying and abuse.

The Trapped Butterfly constantly worries about her behavior being narcissistic but her therapist keeps reassuring her that she isn’t. How dare Roo use her and her husband! How dare Roo’s husband be so stupid not to see that The Trapped Butterfly was trying to figure it out and didn’t/couldn’t see that she was trying to be respectful yet honest.

Maybe that’s why people don’t like The Trapped Butterfly and they walk away from her so easily. Because once The Trapped Butterfly finally figures out their true deal, she calls them out. Not perfectly. She fucks up. She lashes out. But she also has a big heart and she loves fiercely.

Roo, you have hurt The Trapped Butterfly deeply. Some scars, when they finally turn into scars, will be with The Trapped Butterfly for the rest of her fucking life. But mark her words; YOU HAVE NOT AND WILL NOT DESTROY THE TRAPPED BUTTERFLY!! SHE KEEPS FIGHTING FOR HER FREEDOM AND HEALING!!!!

Trapped by Thoughts

Some may find disturbing. Reader discretion advised.

Ever since she was young, she has had scary thoughts. One thought was on her 9th birthday where she thought, “I’m another year closer to dying.” It scared her but her 9-year-old mind was back to playing with her new birthday presents in no time.

She has obsessive thoughts and anxiety. And now the continued grief for the family and chosen family that she has lost.

It is so exhausting. She tries to rely on her meditation practice to help, and it does, but not enough.

Why can’t she have everyone back in her life? Why’s it so easy to leave her without truly fighting for her? Why can’t we just work it out? What is wrong with her? Do people even truly like her?

These are just some of the obsessive thoughts among many others that she deals with daily. She, being an early childhood professional, always wants to understand the reason behind others behaviors. There’s usually a deeper reason for behaviors than the obvious.

But narcissism is insidious like a cancer. There are no easy answers. You don’t know that you’re in a relationship with one until you get eaten alive-literally and figuratively. They suck on you and they love bomb you so you have no choice but to be eaten up. When you realize that you are being eaten, it’s too late. You have given too much to them! They spit you out like animals and leave you feeling broken, ashamed, deeply hurt, confused, sad, and angry.

That’s how she feels a lot of the time. Her heart is still fucking bleeding from all the pain that they have caused. She tries to put it out of her mind but like a leech, they still have a hold on her.

Why did they do this to her? Why did they use her? Why didn’t she know?

She wishes she could get in the car and drive until she can’t drive anymore. Sometimes she wishes she could drink a bottle of tequila until she passed out. Instead, she is trapped in a body that doesn’t allow her to do anything for herself except type with her nose. And with Covid and other viruses going crazy, she is still trapped with not being able to live how they used to.

She still has happy memories of these people. She wishes she could fix it with all of them. But narcissism won’t allow it. Narcissism will either keep all her sins over her and/or use her until it becomes full again so it can spit her out. Narcissism is keeping the empathetic trapped butterfly from continuing to keep them in her life. She is so freer without being manipulated by the monster. Yet, her thoughts are still trapping her and society is still trapping her. Frankly, there’s many times that she has been disappointed with waking up again.

She longs to be free. She works her ass off to be free. Sometimes when she gets really high, she is free. But will she ever be free from her thoughts, grief, and to be social?

Despair and Grief

She wakes up feeling that familiar pang in her chest and stomach. She’s very anxious about her husband having another bout of walking pneumonia. It’s either mold or fungi related because they are still living in quarantine with extremely limited exposure to other people due to Covid which continues to weigh deeply on her.

As she begins to meditate and try to become aware of her thoughts and emotions, she realizes that she is missing “them” again. People who she wishes she would stop fucking missing. People who have treated her like shit. She also desperately misses having tattoos that she can look forward to. She’s terrified that if she, hopefully, gets her private appointment in January that it’s going to be impossible to keep getting private sessions since Covid is seemingly “better,” but she doesn’t trust it yet and she feels like it is being suppressed by the media right now due to the election. If this Republican cult gets back in power, it will be even harder to know what is truly going on since Trump has really fucked with the CDC!!

Unfortunately, this grief and despair is a perfect storm for a meltdown. She feels so helpless when her husband is sick. She should be caring for him, but instead, she needs constant care. Dressing, going to the bathroom, feeding, and everything else that you need to do for a young child. Unfortunately, her husband does something that triggers her and she lashes out at him and then it all comes boiling up and out.

He doesn’t mean to trigger her. She hates that she has a hard time regulating her emotions but she tries to breathe and realize that she needs to stop lashing out. She also has a lot of grief and regret about the kitty situation because they lost their beloved first tabby cat whom they adopted with a calico and the kitties grew up together and got along great! A year after the tabby cat crossed the rainbow bridge into Heaven, she was desperate to add another kitty to the family to try to get some joy back into the house and she fell in love with a tabby kitten and they adopted him after trying to make sure it would work out with the older calico. Unfortunately, the kitten was found without a mother and didn’t get the critical socializing that he needed to be a typical cat. He won’t leave the calico alone and he doesn’t understand how to interact without getting too rough. It’s all play and love but he doesn’t have limits like typical kitties have. Despite trying everything, the kitties live separate lives with equal time in the house and in their own “apartments.” This has only made more work for her husband and she feels responsible. She is also sad that the last years of her calico kitty’s life are being spent so differently than her life before the new kitty. There’s a deep ache that she doesn’t get to spend as much time with her calico. It literally makes her sick sometimes even though everyone is happy and are doing well.

She feels angry and scared when her husband is coughing and can’t catch his breath for a few minutes after carrying her to the bathroom and getting her situated so she can have privacy. It makes her angry that people don’t understand how it is. She is so desperate for people to understand and hear her. Some definitely do and show their support. But she is so tired of the ableism of the world and waiting to see what all the viruses and Covid variants are going to do.

She just is desperate for her life to get better for a while and find her tattoo artist that will be there, appropriately, for her. Is this too much to ask??

She still prays but not religious prayers of Christianity. She still finds herself angry at the “Christian god” who is supposed to be able to do anything but it was a lie. God is everything and different entities. It’s not the God of the Bible. She was gullible and fell right into the bull shit. But now she sees that spiritualism is really the best way to go. All prayers and positive vibes have some effects on the world and people. But she hates that she still gets angry at “God” for letting bad stuff happen even though it’s not really Them doing it.

Nighttime falls and it’s time to sleep just to get up and live in the twilight zone again. She doesn’t want to be a trapped butterfly anymore.

Nightfall

It’s a cool, fall day. It’s also Halloween weekend and she has been feeling really restless and left out. She loves Halloween! Ever since she was old enough to deal with the costumes, which was around age five, she loved dressing up and going out. She continued this celebration well into adulthood with going to accessible Halloween activities and watching scary movies.

All around her, people are celebrating Halloween weekend and she longs to do anything Halloween too. They watched Hannibal eat brains the other day. Yummy, tastes like chicken.

The day started turning to evening. After consuming extra cannabis and shots of alcohol, nightfall filled the air. They had been playing with an Amanita and wizard hat and now she was wearing the wizard hat.

The darkness filled her senses with awe, peace, and cosmic vibes. The purple lights on the porch where she was sitting danced to her. Then it hit her that something that happened so regularly her whole life has been occurring rarely now.

They used to go out at night and get together with people at night. She remembered coming home from college and grad school classes at night. There were events, parties, tattoos, concerts at night. Now they can get everything done during the day and then the mosquitoes are bad when they are sitting outside in the summer so they go in before dusk.

But tonight was different. Nothing was driving them in and she couldn’t tear herself from the nightfall. Tears ran down her face. The last of the nighttime bugs and creatures rang in her ears. Sounds of dogs barking, people coming home, and the silence all mixed into a beautiful melody. The beautiful lights on the porch and the neighborhood as well as the darkness also filled her.

She drank it all in for as long as she could. She felt sad that she had taken nightfall for granted. She will make sure to experience nightfall a bit more from outside.

She pleads with the universe to let health and peace rain on the Earth. So tired of the darkness that is over Earth and their lives. She wants to get to experience the cosmic nightfall more….

Pain

The following is graphic. Reader discretion advise.

She wanders around in a state of confusion. Nothing was right anymore except her love of her husband and kitties. But everything else is wrong and like she is in the twilight zone and she can’t get out.

Her life has never been easy. Abuse, fighting to prove people wrong, fighting for children and the oppressed. She doesn’t always get it right and she has had to grow and change. But she is. But this fight is so out of her control and she is so tired of it. How do you fight something that could literally kill her and her husband? Yet, it is killing her because she doesn’t know how to accept that her life that she worked so hard for is gone. She refuses to believe it but there’s no way out of this one.

People don’t understand and they are acting like it’s no big deal. Narcissistic president and his minions have ruined the trust for the medical professionals and even threaten them. Yet, people are still in love with this regime. But even the people who once fought to save lives have caved in to the public and their own exhaustion of the pandemic. Removing the mitigations that helps save lives.

She finds herself trying to hope that maybe this shot will be the one that really prevents the virus from invading people only to keep hearing the people who are up to date with the shots still get it. The news always reports that the people have mild symptoms. What are mild symptoms anyway? Downplaying it all still.

Or is her fear unfounded? She usually gets really sick when she gets the flu or something upper respiratory. And her body is changing. Spasms she never used to have, she now has. More chronic pain too.

She’s never pitied herself for her disability. It’s the way it is. But being left out has been a problem for her. She can’t just jump up and get together with her friends. She struggled with depression in high school from not being able to be a typical teenager. Plus the ongoing abuse and dysfunctional family.

Then there’s all the loss. Some expected as nobody lives forever and others unexpected due to abuse. Sometimes she quietly, not alway though, rages at them, the abusers, thinking horrible things that are not even her but she wants people who have inflicted so much pain on her and her husband or on innocent people to feel at least some of that pain. Does karma even work?

Other times, with the people who have directly hurt her, she would give annnnyyyythiiing to repair the relationship. She fights herself blaming herself for what she did to contribute to everything falling apart.

“Why couldn’t she just keep her mouth shut?” “Why did she react?” “What did she do to end up here?”

She is constantly worried about her being narcissistic too. But then she, or someone, reminds her that she didn’t do anything wrong. But she is still a “fixer.” Again, like the virus, she can’t fix these relationships and that makes her feel even worse and stuck.

She finds it hard to relax but she has moments of pure peace and beauty. She tries to keep them going. But now she is fighting for the one thing that really helps her deal with life and trauma and it’s now so hard.

A cosmic place that was so beautiful and full of love, or so she thought, was savagely ripped away from her and her husband and she can’t save it. She tried but nothing she said is right to them. Again, she fell for narcissism and, yet, she is so desperate to go back. Desperate for the wonderful smells, sights, sensations, laughter, and love. Now an unfinished tattoo reminds her of that constantly. She always thinks about them and other people who were supposed to love her forever. Her heart is so ripped up more than she ever thought possible.

And even though she tries not to think about it, she knows more loss is coming and she doesn’t know how she is going to bear it.

She tries to think about things she’s grateful for but it doesn’t erase that pain anymore. She sees no way out except for nature, natural meds, and games. This wasn’t supposed to be her life. She craves the release and accomplishment of getting tattooed. They give her power and makes her feel pretty. If people are going to stare at her, why not give everyone something to look at? She loves looking at her tattoos but she needs the release regularly and losing that cosmic place and everyone acting like this virus is over has made it so hard to get something so fucking vital for her emotional well-being.

She is so trapped. More than normal and she doesn’t know when it will be done. She is trying to keep going but she is so fucking exhausted. Waking up to the same thing over and over again feels again like she is in the twilight zone. Maybe she is. And maybe in a parallel universe or dimension she is living a totally different life and that is comforting for some strange reason since she is trapped in here until whoever deems that it is time to set her free. Maybe she can meet her other selves if it works that way when she is set free from her current meat sack. Yet, she is so afraid of the process of leaving this dimension. She wishes she remembered life before birth. We can’t just come into existence at conception but she doesn’t believe that we choose where we go because she would have picked a wonderful family who was healthy and she still would have chosen Grandpa and her husband and her animals. But the cp and abuse and alcoholism and all the dysfunction and narcissism would not have been chosen. And babies who died before birth for all reasons wouldn’t choose that.

She doesn’t know how to keep going but she is. She tries but it hurts so bad sometimes. She misses the days when life was easier and sweeter. Will it ever come back to her again? At least for a while? Please??