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Sometimes, like right now, I wish Jesus were here.

So I could talk to him and feel seen.

Heard.

Did he really even exist?  I don’t know.  But I do know anything can be created inserted uploaded into this reality, so why not.

That powerful safe solid presence of his – to do some ass kicking.

To reach out to the most vulnerable, the most unseen, those who have been crying loudly or silently.  Letting them speak.  Letting them be seen.

Kicking off the stage all of the loud mouths who command all of the attention and don’t understand the concept of sharing or that we are all in this together or no one above another.  And with a quiet solid force that shows he ain’t messing around.

Let.

This.

Person.

Be.

Seen.

Let their story be heard.

They have something to say too.

Being in the presence where I feel safe.

Where all of the ideas and passions in my heart are finally seen.

And instead of receiving silence or yawns or “that takes money” excuses, he takes my hand and promises me:  “We will get your visions created.  Together.  I ain’t going anywhere.  I have your back.”

Then he looks out at the vast audience and says, “Who wants to help?”

Sometimes it takes someone with a label of importance to get shit done.

If Jesus were to show up or someone like him – even her – I would also have them make phone calls for me and talk to these npc’s I keep encountering.  Nice, pleasant, but NPC like.  I still feel I am not being taken seriously or seen in the way I need.

And deserve.

I got bounced around today – again.  Email and phone.  And I’m f’ing done with that.

I’m just done.

I ain’t sleeping well.

Waking up in panic or pounding the bed.

My eyes look puffy and are half-open in recent days.

I look – old.

I see a light, an open door, I check it out and slam it goes.  Or I get told to jump through another hoop.  Or go over there.  I had a recent conversation and was told the person assigned to me was THE expert in the programs I was seeking.  But when I spoke with this assigned person just yesterday she informed me she was THE expert in her part of the state.

O M F G – then why was I not assigned to the expert in my part of the state???

I dunno.

Quiet temper tantrum ensuing until I am alone and can scream it all out.

But see this is all I have to rely on now to help catapult me into a better life – the system.

To which I think Seriously?  THIS IS AS GOOD AS IT IS OUT THERE?!?!?

Tell me again why there are so many homeless people out there???  THIS is what they have faced – and most of them probably aren’t loud like I am – able to advocate for myself.

Yes, Jesus – we need you.  Because few are taking what I have to say seriously.  You would have more of a positive impact.  I’m just V.  Or Victoria.  Or Vicki.  Or the crazy woo woo.  Or the unwanted whiney ass bitch.

Take your pick.  I’ve been called them all.

5 folders sit beside me of all the things I’m exploring.  I am about to make another one.  I. have. to. find. something. new – I have to do SOMETHING to make sure we have a secure place to live.  I am in no mental space to go couch surfing – not with a child.

The worst possible time in human history for this to be thrown on my plate.  Ya there is a rage there around that I am trying to dispel…….

My nervous system can’t take that pressure.  Revolting is happening – stomach in knots – all of the little minor health issues are inflamed and acting out atm.  Reassuring with breath stretching supplements resting as much as I can.  Doesn’t have to be this way.

It never did.

💖

Victoria

CASHAPP:  $VictoriaT1144

ZELLE:  themamatrinity@gmail.com

I wonder what the record is for mental dog paddling.

I am not sleeping deep enough or long enough.

I don’t know how many come around here these days.  I have asked for people to check in with me.  How many will read this and not ask?  Is this too much of me to ask for?  I know I have fallen behind in asking others how they are – that doesn’t indicate I don’t care – it’s simply an indication that I am the one needing the care these days.  My brain is scattered and all I want to do now is sleep.

I took an assessment test yesterday – finally – after asking for the link for over 2 months.  Job related.  The results?

Writer.  Blogger.  Content creator.

What. i. already. have. been. doing.

And love – don’t get me wrong – but it is not paying me enough.  It should have by now.  Which is why I consistently ask for promotional help as I know I have the gift and talent to make a good living at it.  I’ve been reaching out to bigger channels in recent weeks asking for some help – not hearing a thing in return.  I could ask private people on the myriad of freelance sites – for some reason my brain won’t let me go there.  Something for me to see with different eyes and resolve.

My mental state is not good atm – I know what I need – REST and lots of it.

But I can’t afford that as I have a housing crisis looming over my head and a child to think of.  And even when I sleep, I wake up, unable to turn off my brain for a good duration of time no matter what I do.

To be honest – I’m scared.  I see myself where I am.  I know I need to meet myself where I am – but I simply have to keep pushing.  I can’t give up.  I have to keep hammering away with the phone calls to these agencies – and find SOMETHING I can do – cognitively – to bring in more money.  Pick a damn course to study in a field that is “hot” (that is not AI – I refuse to give in to that).

I see things this morning like this new bill created by the T Administration that, in part, targets people like me – saying I need to work or volunteer X amount of hours per week in order to receive $$ help.  Which I am willing to do.  Which I have been willing to do.  Actually I already DO work that x number of hours – just need the “more income” part.  This reality doesn’t seem to want what I have to offer.  Not in a way that brings me the income I need.  And it pains me.

And it angers me – to see others who still have so much – those who are making laws and rules that affect MY LIFE who haven’t a CLUE what it’s like to battle PTSD and agoraphobia – who haven’t a CLUE what it’s like to be in fear of being homeless with a child – who haven’t a CLUE what it’s like to be female and a mom and to be the only one advocating on your behalf – to feel that sense of failure seeing another phone call or idea fall flat – and then to be told I have the power to change my life all on my own.

When someone is drowning you don’t tell them to try harder or learn to swim WHILE drowning – you f’ing jump in and pull them out let them catch their breath – regroup – THEN they can learn to swim.

Does that make sense?

Well, it does to me.  It does to my heart.

I have ideas.  Business ideas.  People griping about AI taking over, when I HAVE IDEAS to bring back things that are pure again.

Housing ideas to help women like me.

A return of local newspapers – print.

And it all requires MONEY.

You know?

I cannot be the only one who sees how MONEY is THE TOOL here to get things done.

MONEY can be the miracle someone needs in order TO change her life.

And visibility too.  You need to be SEEN by others in order to pave the way for change.  For new.

So, while I am still around, I will NOT be silent.  I WILL put my heart and soul out into the world.  And if at the end of it all I am alone, so be it.  At least I know I was true to myself.

💖

Victoria