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#lifeismessy
allaboutmessy · 7 months
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― Alan Moore, Watchmen
- Alan Moore is an English author known primarily for his work in comic books including Watchmen, V for Vendetta, The Ballad of Halo Jones, Swamp Thing, Batman: The Killing Joke, and From Hell. He is widely recognised among his peers and critics as one of the best comic book writers in the English language.| @wikipedia. ~~~~~~~~~~ Icons: @nounproject | moving target by David Christensen US | The Noun Project
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chineseladybug · 1 year
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How many of us feel like a #humanroomba cleaning up after everyone in our home??? #forevercleaning #lifeismessy #mommyhood #cleanupcleanupeverybodyeverywhere Living the human #roomba life https://www.instagram.com/p/Cl_T1j2u7Nq/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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You let go of your fears
You let go of your fears
Breaking free is a choice. You don’t have to push through your fears, learn to love yourself and grow.Be brave. Be courageous. Be confident in your own skin. #beyourselfHave a magical day. follow@realtalkwithmatty.....#personalgrowth #bravesoul #lifeismessy #liveyourvalues #selfcompassioncoaching #embodiedhealing #alifeinprogress #selftrust #soulwork #freedomseeker #liveauthentically…
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blackboyjoy70 · 2 years
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#bebrave #lifeismessy #retxed #retxed70
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chirpyblues · 2 years
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I've changed, you know? I hesitate in saying the things I easily said before. smiling happens less often for me. I'm surprised when I laugh my real laugh. and I miss it. the picture gallery in my phone likes to put it in my face. a lot of other things do too. and yet, so many don't. my people have gotten accustomed to this me. they miss the old me though, I feel it. but it's as much gone for them as for me. it's funny, how life just hits you one day. it hits everyone, in one or the other way. one hit and everything changes. your whole self changes. there becomes a before and an after. nobody's prepared for the hit. I wasn't either. somehow I soared through. or am I still trying to soar through?
~ shreeya.//when life hits you//
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Creature of The Night
I have always been a bit of an insomniac, but ever since something happened recently in my life - or rather, I was told about this thing - I have been getting less and less sleep at night. I work sporadic hours ever since this pandemic started and I know that isn’t helping things. I am not as busy as I once was, which I often mentally complained about. I now regret all those mental complaints - maybe all that activity would finally give me some peace and quiet inside my head. I work a job that had me going literally 24/7 and now due to pay/hour cuts, I am finding I have more time than I know what to do with. I guess that’s why I am writing here - to have some kind of outlet into the internet where no one knows who I am and what I am about to write in this post.
I can’t not talk about it anymore - it’s been slowly choking me.
To start, a little background/history. I have always had a rocky relationship with my mother. Actually, that’s putting it delicately. My relationship with my mom was TERRIBLE for several years. It has only recently (round about three-ish years) been getting better. I guess it makes sense - that was around the same time my mom’s second-eldest sister died. It hadn’t taken too long, only about a year and a half for her cancer to consume her. My mom’s eldest sister died a little over a year after that and my grandmother (my mom’s mother) a year after her. I guess you can say that all of those deaths in the family have been forcing us together. I must say, they did a better job at helping us communicate than my mom when she would literally lock me in my bedroom with her and make me stay there until we solved whatever was going on. Great parenting, mother.
But I digress and now I know the “reason” behind the bad parenting and all of the hard times we had.
The fourth of July of this year was when my mom told me. I am still having a hard time processing it over two months later. For reference, I won’t use real names, but I will use random letters to the key people involved.
My “uncle” - J
My aunt (my “uncle’s” wife) and my mom’s eldest sister - R
My grandmother - L
So, fourth of July rolls around. I usually would have been out with friends on that day, but due to the pandemic, I decided to go to my parent’s house to visit my mother (my father was working that day) and my cat. We got to talking like we do a lot more of now - those deep talks she would always have with my sibling that I would be jealous of, but never wanted to partake in. We got on the subject of healing the family. It’s been quite broken with all of the recent deaths and all of the things people somehow never say until it is too late.
For another little tidbit of backstory, you should know that my mother and her siblings were all abused by their father - L’s husband. Mentally, emotionally, physically, and yes - sexually. L had six kids and nowhere to go, so she began to work night shifts at an office, leaving her kids with that horrible man. My mother was six the last time her father sexually abused her. He was a drunk, a low-life and I am glad he is dead so that I don’t ever have to try to forgive him for what he did to my family.
When my mother was just turned seven; she, her brothers and sisters and her mother all moved away from him. But the damage had already been done. R couldn’t have anyone touch her for the pain that she would feel everywhere - a burning sensation that spread from the inside-out. My mothers brothers all had resentment towards L, my mother’s second eldest sister had resentment towards everyone, but they stayed in each other’s lives. I cannot say if that was for the worst or not.
My mom was twelve years younger than her eldest sister - R. Right around the time they moved away from the monster that was their father and husband, R was proposed to by J. Even though R couldn’t be touched, even though she probably could never bare their own children, J married her. Everyone thought of him as the most amazing, perfect man for marrying R. They lived in a little house in Northern California, went to church every weekend, and my mom would go to visit them every summer.
Every summer. It all started when she was nine. I can only imagine - though I wish not to - what J did to her. You see, since he couldn’t get his nut out with his wife, he assaulted my mother. Every summer she went up there. For weeks on end, she was at his mercy - a nine-year-old girl who only knew to turn to her mother for help. When my mother finally told L a couple of years into the abuse, she was informed that it must have been her own fault. L chose this monster - the second one in my mom’s short life - over her. All because L liked J and couldn’t imagine him as the no-words-in-the-human-or-heavenly-or-down-in-the-depths-of-hell-languages kind of man he really was.
L knew what my mom had gone through with her ex-husband. J knew what they had all gone through and my mother was not an exception. J knew what had happened to her already in her short life and decided to go and do it anyways. Repeatedly. For YEARS!! I cannot fathom how my mother is still alive. More so - I cannot believe HE is.
No one knows but these few people - L (who as stated before, is now dead), my mother, my father, me and (obviously) J. I have not the strength to tell my sibling - who by the way has been suicidal for years. Telling them now... I don’t know what that would do and I will not let myself be an only child. No way in hell.
I grew up with J around me. I can’t tell you how many times I was in the very house - the very ROOM - my mother was assaulted in. Now I know why my sibling and I never went up north without one or both of my parents there. My parents never left my sibling or myself alone with the man and it never registered in my mind until my mother told me about all of this. He was a man that I trusted, a man who I thought to be amazing for loving my aunt even though he could never be with her the way he probably wanted to. R, he respected. Her sister, not so much. It’s a mask that I hope to one day rip away and show the world what he truly is.
There is just one roadblock in all of this. Well, two, really. My cousins. See, what I haven’t mentioned before is that R and J adopted two kids. The reason I have stayed silent this long is because... well I don’t know how it would feel in reality, but I can only imagine the pain of knowing the man who raised you - the man you trusted - was a child molester and rapist. A man who affected forever how my mom, my sibling and myself see the world. I can’t. But someday I’ll have to explain to my family why I can never ever go to a gathering he will be attending. Why I could never look J in the eyes again without imagining my mother’s face as a child reflected in them. I would throw up on him. I feel nauseous as it is just thinking about J now, even with him over a thousand miles away and not having seen him in over a year and a half.
One of the reasons my mother didn’t tell her family was because she knew how it would destroy her sister and it probably wouldn’t have turned out good for my mom back then. It definitely would have divided our family between those who wanted to stay close to L and those who would have stayed by my mother’s side. The second reason ties into the first. My mom thought - and still thinks - since L didn’t validate her story or pain that no one else would believe her. And who could blame her?! Her own MOTHER didn’t give a rat’s ass about her pain - didn’t believe her. The one person who was supposed to love my mom and protect her no matter what had failed her. Again.
The reason I won’t say anything yet breaks down into two things as well. The first is that my mother isn’t ready. God, it’s been 40 years and I don’t blame her at all for not being able to process what happened to her. The second reason is that I know what it will do to my family. Most, if not all, will be on my mother’s side now. That’s part of the problem though. I know what it would do to J’s kids - my cousins. I don’t care that they are not technically blood relatives, I would protect those two with my own life. The eldest is already worried about being the “black sheep of the family” even though there is nothing they have done that will ever come close to earning them that title. I can’t think of what this will do to them - both of them. I am scared they would feel ashamed to show their face to our family again. I can’t go the rest of my life without seeing them.
So for now, I don’t really have a choice. I will have to wait until the day of justice finally dawns upon J.
The absolute worst part about this for me? I don’t know what to do until then. Actually, I don’t know what to do even after that. I don’t know how to move on, how to let go - how to SLEEP. I can’t even sleep at night for Christ’s sake!! It evades me now more than ever. I constantly feel like when I turn my light off and roll over; close my eyes - I will feel someone grab me from behind. J is an all consuming entity now and I don’t how to expel him from my waking or sleeping mind.
If there is one point I want to make with this post - it’s this.
Trust your kids. 
Put your biases aside and believe them when they tell you they are in pain. L HATED and blatantly showed her dislike for my father even though he did nothing and has done nothing but love and cherish my mother. Not once has he hit or abused - emotionally or physically. However, L adored J and she showed it openly. I cannot fathom what makes a mother choose someone else over her own child, but I am here now telling you it’s possible. So please, I implore of you, if any child comes to you with pain - any pain - help them for God’s sake.
I ask this of you because the reverberations of neglect have rippled through my mother and passed into me. I know how it feels and I would not wish it on my worst enemy.
Well, maybe J.
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typingoverworld · 3 years
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Life is messy, pretending otherwise is pointless.
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fycuriosity · 4 years
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Just sat down and wrote this for my poetry account, but it applies to creative struggles as much as any other kind. Maybe rethink what you think transformation really looks like. @alchemistofwords with @get_repost ・・・ Talking to a friend a little while ago and repeated something he’d said as “like the phoenix rising from her ashes.” He said he didn’t think it was that majestic, which made me stop for a second. Somehow we’ve internalized this Phoenix image as majestic and instantaneous, but if you think about it even for a few seconds, you realize it’s anything but. This is a bird that essentially self-immolates. There’s no way that can be fun. (I’ve never personally been on fire, but I just cannot imagine any universe in which it’s not painful as hell). And ash isn’t pretty, either. It sticks to you, it smells bad, and it’s just incredibly messy and unpleasant. As humans tend to do, we’ve romanticised the heck out of this bird because we want to believe that we, too, can magically rise from our own ashes. The thing is, we can—and we do—but it’s never overnight. It’s never easy. It’s never the quick upgrade we want it to be. It’s painful. It’s messy. It can take months or even years. If we’re expecting overnight transformation, we’re going to be disappointed. (It sure as hell ain’t gonna happen in an Instagram post.) Maybe we need to be paying attention when we’re in the Ring of Fire, so we can see who we were when we went in, and compare it to who we are when we finally get to the other side—exhausted, ash-covered, but still alive—so we can actually appreciate our own transformations. posted on Instagram - https://instagr.am/p/CE9k2ZUgj-1/
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alexandramollon · 4 years
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Wouldn’t life be easier if we all fit into little boxes. If we could all be immediately understood. . But life isn’t like that. It’s raw and messy. It’s hard and confusing. . My greatest practice in life is accepting this and flowing with it. Flowing with the highs and the lows and accepting all of it as it comes without imposing my boxes, my control over it. . It’s fucking work but it’s also wildly beautiful. Like the feeling you get in your heart when it’s all just so settled. It all just is and your heart is untethered to the outcome. . Those are the moments I feel alive. . . 📸 @lumynphotography . #saturdaymorningthoughts #wordsbyme #thoughtsfrommymat #anxietywarrior #recoveringperfectionist #controlfreak #handstandpractice #inversionpractice #hollowbackhandstand #hollowback #wonderwonder #photoshootideas #lifecoachforwomen #goingwiththeflow #inflow #mindsetmattersmost #mindsetcoaching #intuitiveguidance #intuitivelifecoach #lifeismessy #progressnotperfection (at Wonder Wonder) https://www.instagram.com/p/B65w098nUlN/?igshid=1j9etx5prf1it
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allaboutmessy · 7 months
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― Jane Milne, Women’s Wellbeing Coach [ www [ dot ] [ pelotonwellbeing] [dot] co [dot] uk/ ]
Source: Milne, Jane. Your life is always going to be messy. @medium Apr 26, 2017. ~~~~~~~~~~ Icons: @nounproject | moving target by David Christensen US | The Noun Project
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missplantlady-blog · 5 years
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My Pilea has a mind of its own, it truly is a beautiful mess. But so is LIFE. 
CHEERS, PLANT LOVE, BE KIND. 
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chloezara11 · 5 years
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📖💔🤷🏼‍♀️💪🏼✨ #quotes #quotestoliveby #inspiration #inspirationalquotes #motto #motivation #sayings #mentalhealth #mentalillness #depression #recovery #selfworth #broken #life #mystory #mycomeback #lifeismessy #youdoyou #beproudofyou #savedmyself https://www.instagram.com/p/B1N67lfhJNP/?igshid=bkphfn57rjqd
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chirpyblues · 3 years
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there are sayings telling us to
do things in a certain way
there are sayings contradictory
to those ways too
there are de facto a lot of sayings
and guidance in this world
sometimes it is confusing
whom and what to listen to
and sometimes we end up
not listening to anyone at all
but that's even worse than the
uncountable debated options
if you're alive, it means you are
here to gamble and that's that
trust your gut and take a way
odds are you'll either succeed or fail
but if you don't take any way
and sit around contemplating
then you're wasting away yourself
and that's not just worse, it's worst
I'm aware that the stakes are mighty
high and you might end up losing
but when did a good game of gambling
start having small stakes?
and maybe you do lose, maybe you go
all in only to find them having aces
but now you know a thing or two
about bluffing
and in the gamble of life, you don't
end up with nothing even after losing
so chop-chop the next round is
about to begin
and I have an inkling that you are
just about to win
~ shreeya. //live, breathe, gamble//
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passionsfire2 · 5 years
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You see, as I am realizing now... Life is not a race, it's about the journey.  You have to learn how to appreciate it through all the ups and downs.  Life is messy.  But in the mess, it can be beautiful.  My life is a beautiful mess and I am far from perfect.  Some days I lose hope, some days I do nothing, some days I fight the negative self-talk and other days I can't.  With all the mess and chaos in my heart, I am determined to make it into something beautiful.  I am right where I need to be.
Tara-Fay
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iameverybecky · 5 years
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And then there’s everyday life. REALITY 😂😬
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http://store.cdbaby.com/cd/rachiejennfarr2 I wrote and recorded a new song called 🎶Move Right Along🎶 inspired by Legos, the Tower card, forgiveness, and letting go. It's free to download on CD baby if you like it, just copy the above link. 😘 My album is free to download there as well. 🧡💛🌿 #chicagosingersongwriter #indiechicago #singersongwriter #letitgo #thetower #letthingsfallapart #forgiveyourself #lifeismessy #mommy #movealong #moveon #knowbetterdobetter #dandelion #rachiejennfarr https://www.instagram.com/theoriginalrachiejenn/p/BugttnDH-du/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1uedhbt8efy7w
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