Systematic Fatigue

The other day I made a post

That compassion fatigue has gotten the best of me

Then someone corrected me

And said what’s really testing me

Is more systemically

Pragmatically

I agreed

I’m so god-damn tired of these systems

Malfunctioning

Taking the dysfunction that these children were born in

And exacerbating the situation even further

Further down the rabbit hole they go

Falling through the cracks:

Cracks of Schools

Group homes

Foster homes

Public Health

Private health

Mental health

Until they land —smack—rock bottom

Sleeping on concrete streets

System fatigue has gotten the best of me

But won’t get the rest of me

Because I’m preserving that

To do whatever I can

In my scope

To advocate and fill in the cracks

My ex called me a purple squirrel

In the work world

That’s someone highly valued yet rare and hard to find

I have the passion, will and power, in addition I have the mind

People like me, willing to endure hard work to fulfill all the title’s meant to be

Shouldn’t be

Praised

This shouldn’t be going out of the way

It should be the standard

If everyone did their part

There’d be less socio-political cancer

Excuse me for my candor

These are just the memoirs of someone who fell through cracks

Trying to pick the pieces up and give it all back

It takes a village to raise a child

And we’ve all been broken children before

So to see them is to see us

And every one of us needs to remember that

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You let me go

So let me go

My concert

I was depressed. Holed up in my room to prove that I do not need to seek attention to move past my pain. To be loyal without their commitment. To not indulge in the toxic environment.

I finally decided to go out. To treat myself to a concert I planned on going to for months. I was hurt by the response of a loved one who even guilted me for this. The one time I actually did something since all of this. Turns out there was a motivating factor in this lashing out.

Anyhow, although it killed my excitement, I went anyways. Alone. Another lonely soul stood near me, and something told me she was alone. I asked as she confirmed. She relayed to me she bought tickets for two for a person she’d been seeing for half a year. She communicated with him, he expressed his excitedness to go. She hopped on a train and came four hours to San Diego, for him to flake on her leaving her stranded at the train station.

I’m not sure how I knew, or why she fully opened up to me about her heartbreak and depression but she did. I needed someone raw and real and relatable that night.

My holotropic journey

I know I keep talking about my holotropic breathwork experience, but I am still in awe of what I witnessed yesterday.

I imagine it’s somewhat like an ayahuasca trip.

Relatively quickly after drinking, you will notice your heart rate go up and your temperature begin to oscillate. You may be sweating in one instant and shivering in the next. Your extremities might tingle at times, especially your palms.

It is said

Many people come to Holotropic Breathwork as a last resort, or when they are in a psycho-spiritual crisis.

And while I wasn’t sure what I was getting into, attending a generalized breathwork class, I was for sure going through a psycho-spiritual crisis and in need of this intervention. It was meant.

People come to HB to:

While I didn’t know anything about it before, I did notice when I was done I looked at the sky and told myself I’m no longer afraid to die (without giving thought to it either). My depression has been lifted, my crying spells over my love betrayal ceased and I felt…healed.

    

It treats past traumas. My ears rang, body shook, I blacked out and regained consciousness as I watched my arm involuntarily press against my cheek. It felt like magic. It was magic.