I'm back... I think

Since I am no longer working, I've had a lot of time on my hands.
*Please trust that I am not happy about this. I HATE not working, but it's a tough market and even though I'm sure I put in at least a minimum of 12 applications per day, I have yet to receive anything promising (this includes interviews)*
I've decided to join a Wiccan group in my area (it's not close, but it's not extremely far either).
I've been working on my mantras of prosperity and trying to reach out to the Goddess Lakshmi and the God Ganesh.
I've been logging in my BOS (book of shadows)
and now I'd like to go back to posting on my blogs.
Ultimately I have to rekindle a relationship with my creativity and innovation. This not working thing has really put a damper on me and my confidence. I don't think I've ever had this much trouble finding a job. But to be honest, I think it's just because my standards weren't really that high. It might even be that I had no standards before. But now that I have a little one to worry about and getting out of the shelter to consider I can't just take anything. However, even with that in mind, I'm at the point where I'd almost take anything. Just to have a little bit of change to buy diapers and pay bills. Even if I hate bouncing around from job to job, "anything" would hold me down until something better came to fruition. What I always find so frustrating is that I apply for these excellent jobs that I get so excited about and....... Exactly that............ waiting..... waiting....... waiting. I know that good jobs take time to get but I don't have time. I've been trying to cut corners by going onto Craigslist, but still the same thing....... waiting...... waiting...... waiting. It's been the same with the (very few) interviews that I've gone on. Which is astonishing because I've never been on an interview and not gotten the job. It started with Taboola and has been the same since. They fucked up my mojo. I like to think that I'm not getting these jobs or these interviews because there's something better, but that sentiment starts to feel less and less likely when these really awesome jobs keep passing me up. I'm trying to be positive and shit, but it's tough. Not much seems to be looking up. But alas, I have faith in Lakshmi and Ganesh and like L says "nothing happens before or after it's time".

I. Fucking. Hate. Everything

Story time part two

I was in the mood yesterday to reflect on where I am so far... Actually where I have been. Alas, this is the result:

I believe that I was somewhere around the age of 18 when I started to think about the"future". 

A particular event always comes to mind. 

I was mad at my family, for some reason or another. They always found reasons to have me mad at them. It's not their fault, it's just the blood. However I decided to leave, walk out the house. 

This has not been the first time I had done this. 

I have a tendency to run away. 

Don't get me wrong, I was coming back. I didn't pack bags or anything. I just went for a walk. A long walk. I needed to think. 

No one ever understood the therapy in this.  They were just always mad that I never said anything. Why should I? That wasn't the point . The point was to give myself a total break. 

But I digress, I walked and walked and walked that day. Far and went to the closest park to get on the swings. In the grand scheme of things, I wasn't very far. We lived in Wesley Chapel FL at the time so nothing was really walking distance but I was a 2 min drive away. I don't remember what I thought about that day. I'm sure I wrote about it in one of my diaries. But I don't think it was important, what was important was I contemplated my reasons for being here. Still. After many attempts to leave, to free myself I was still binded to my life. 

As an older person (see I don't see myself as an adult yet, but that's for another post) I know I have ties here.. Olivia. 

Some may say, "but what about your family?" Well I love my family and they love me, but honestly they could do without. If I had never existed there would be no foul no harm. But if I didn't exist then neither would Olivia. 

No foul no harm still you think? 

Well believe it or not she's more important than you know. Than I know . 

As well if I disappeared. My family would grieve exponentially but eventually heal. Olivia would always have questions. That I couldn't answer. 

At this point I am living day by day. Because it's hard to focus on a future that looks bleak. Or just plain old blank. I can't even hope for anything because dissapointment has tainted me. 

Eh, I think that day was the last time I actually looked for the future. At this point Im just wait for it to greet me. 

Story time

I don't know why I only write when I'm down or feeling out of it. 

Actually most of the time I try to refrain from writing post when I'm ass out but this time it was that I had the thought to post an intriguing muse. A story. It wasn't negative even though the experience  was both good and bad but... Alas in the end I was going to end it with a positive and happy note. Now, not so much. 

Nothing has changed actually I just stopped lying to myself. 

I do not wish to relive the story presently the purpose of this post is no longer about that. 

Actually I'm not sure what it's about anymore. 

I guess I'm just hurt, like always. 

I can't stop hurting. Thinking about my future and hating it. Hating how fake the hurt will make me become. How tired I will be of pretending to be ok. 

I hate the back and forth. 

I miss the silent beauty of not having to worry about my heart. I was always alone. Relationships suck so after I got out of my last one I was determined to shy away from that shit. Didn't end up like that, someone else had something else in mind. Now I'm just writing stories. Feeling hurt. 

Well... IOU

I said I was gonna write every day didn't i?? Well then as you can see from the last time I posted.. I totally lied. 

I am currently at the hospital with Olivia. She has a really bad rash on her buns. It's been about 2 weeks now, so I just decided that it's probably more than over the counter can handle. And so here I am. Olivia and I...

L was here with us, but then his phone got low on battery and so he finagled a way out of staying. 

He asked me if I would be angry if he left and I told him the truth. I wouldn't. And that's because I'm not. 

In fact, I should've expected it. He's not really cut out for this. 

I didn't want to force him to stay. I wanted him to make the adult decision to stay and he was incapable of doing that. 

P.S I never finished writing this. So I'm just gonna leave that thought there. 

On a side note L did return later that night. 

I don't normally add photos's but there was something that was just so true.. so honest about this one

It's a crazy mess, whirlwind of a ride... but it's my life and I'm happy to be living it.

Invisible

There's a certain invisibility that I feel. In almost every aspect of my life. It feels as though as long as I harbor these thoughts (or insecurities rather).. Of all the things I'm missing in my life.. Of all the things I wish I had.. Or want.. Or need. I'll be invisible to the life I have. 

I'm always thinking to myself. I wish I had her hair or her nails. I wish I had those shoes or was that skinny. I wish I lived in that apartment or had a boyfriend/girlfriend like that. These thoughts always rejuvenate sorrow within me. Because I have many things that no one else has. Why can't I just be happy with that? 

Because no one likes a work in progress. 

Everyone truly enjoys the final product. No one would pay to see a half finished movie, or stay content in a half renovated house. And although people claim they like the work needed to reach a final product... That's a lie.

 That shits stressful. 

But I can say it's worth it. The gratification is amazing. That swell of pride. Because all amazing things come with work and time. And when that time has come to a conclusion we unveil our hard work. 

Having realized this, I like to think of my invisibility as a necessary evil. It's like my cloak, my scaffold, my cocoon. Protecting me from the harsh environment. And now I just have to put in the work and time. And when that time has come to a conclusion unveil my butterfly wings. 

It's time

If you haven't noticed yet... And actually to be quite frank since I'm assuming almost no one reads this blog I can safely say that no one has noticed, but I digress ...

If you, said invisible person, haven't noticed yet, I have revealed my real name in one of my posts. Again I'm pretty sure it doesn't make a difference but whatever, my hopes is that one day it will. Having said that, I have decided it's time to actually do something with all this pent up creative energy. I am about to embark on one of the most difficult journeys of my time. 

I am going to start on my next film. Another bio. 

Here is the plot:

It's a film about making a film about a blog about my life. 

INCEPTION!!

Ok let's break that down if it's confusing. The movie is about my experience making a movie about my life essentially. But the byline of the movie is my blog. So  it's basically based off my blog. 

I realized that my blog is about half of my soul. There's some very serious thoughts, feelings, and emotions in here and I need to release them. I need to essentially come out of hiding. 

So here I am. Writing. I plan to write at least once every day until start of production than I'll bring it to at lest once a week until end of film. Then I'll go back to my once a month peek a boo. 

Well then! Let's begin.....

It feels like you're dying

That's what a broken heart feels like, a broken soul, and an open mind.

Sometimes I find myself standing still just pondering on how hurt I feel. How CONFUSED I feel.
Like what the fuck is love?
How is it even possible for me to say that I am in love, or love someone when there's so much pain attached to it. Shouldn't that be physically impossible?
Well if it's not it should be.

I don't get this.... thing..... I'm in.

One minute it feels so much like love, it feels so much like happiness and contentment that I can almost dupe myself that it's real.

But by the next moment the illusion falls before my eyes and I am left to bear witness to the destruction that remains.

Sometimes I like to pretend I am enjoying the ignorance. I pretend that I am totally unaware. I like to purposefully forget. But like a wound unattended that always comes back to haunt me.

I've tried to stop looking for the messages. But it's addictive. It's like when you open the gate to the other world, you can't close it. Not only will you notice the spirits, but the spirits will now notice you.
I don't do it all the time, just when I want to snap myself back into reality. Just when I've caught myself making plans for the future. When I catch myself using that stinking L word.

And that's when I find myself standing still...
pondering how hurt i feel. How CONFUSED I feel.
Like whtat the fuck is love?

Why it’s Easy for People like Me to Get Lost in the Mix.

An introspective essay by: Khadija Charles > that weird girl that people really like but tend to forget about.

With all of the innovation that is going on in social media it’s hard to admit that I am friendless. How so, you ask. Well, yeah, I’ve got tons of friends on Facebook, and have been working a little wingspan on Twitter and I’ve also even started dabbling into things like Tumblr  and I’ve got an undercover blog on Blogspot that’s got like 2 fans, and I’ve got a work-in-progress blog on WordPress, but I don’t have friends.

What I do have is a best friend that lives all the way in Seattle and a “friend-of-emotional-convenience” that I’m having a hard time navigating my friendship with. However, that’s not to say that I don’t have people I know and like and actually consider my friends in my lonely, fiendish mind but don’t actually feel like they are when you realize you barely speak to each other. I’m closer to my estranged father than I am some of these “friends”. I’ve realized, over time, that I’m very friendly and people like me. People think I’m cool, interesting, and from time to time oxymoronic by being mysterious and open all at the same time; this leaves me being quite memorable. However, I’m also (very oxymoronically) forgettable. For a while I couldn’t figure out why and then an experience with getting employment made it all very clear.

In the state of New York, in order to work with children you have to complete a special type of background check. This one specifically checks your background for any instances of child abuse or maltreatment in your home as well as ANY home you’ve lived in for the past 28 years. Now, I never had any problem with this clearance because I don’t have any child abuse in my background, as well I’ve always only went back 10 years because everything after that gets fuzzy. However, this time, this company was requiring my entire 22 years of life in addresses. For most people this wouldn’t be an issue, but for me there were two things wrong with completing this form. One: I’ve lived in over 40 different places (5 different states 20 different cities) and Two: close to half of those places were domestic violence shelters (where the addresses have to stay confidential for the security of the women). I struggled, but eventually I got the information. It took a lot of sleuthing into my childhood emails and Google Maps, but I did it. Nevertheless, I digress; this is just a part of the problem. The problem that I realized I had was that with all the moving around I've done, I’ve conditioned myself to be the way that I am now. I’ve conditioned myself to be an oxymoron.

Wait? What? How? I know that’s the first three words that pop up in your mind, unless you’re a psychiatrist then you’re like, “I knew it!” Nevertheless, I’ve literally became what I despise most about my life right now and why I feel like I no friends. I’ve come to find that in my childhood, because I got used to the pattern of moving around a lot, it became easier for me to adjust to making (and losing) friends that way. I could make friends easily because they felt comfortable with me and it was easy for them to move on (making it easier for me to) if they could forget me just as easily. I might have left an impression, or a moment that they might call upon when they think of their childhood with a nostalgic smile and a soft chuckle, but at the end of the day, there's no hard feelings. This worked a lot in my younger years, and got more complicated to achieve as I got older and as technology came into play because now these friends wanted to “keep in touch”. However, I was just left to bear witness to their lives and how they’ve moved on. I ended up feeling resentful and jealous realizing that nothing can replace a friendship that is solidified by proximity and time. Therefore, no matter how cool, sweet, or funny I was people just wouldn’t go the extra mile to keep up an active friendship with me.

Moreover, as time went on, I became harder to want to be friends with. My life was just too complicated and too depressing. Then I discovered a few other issues that played a major factor into my lack of friends. I was suffering from Bipolar Disorder. So in a nutshell I was essentially a nut case. I can’t handle my emotions effectively and end up pulling into myself and pushing others away. In an effort to not burden people with my illness or my problems I saved them the text message breakup and just faded away. In doing that I missed out on a LOT of things, a LOT of opportunities, and a LOT of friendships. Another issue that I noted was that I’m just an oddball. I look very young, and most of the time I act very young, but I’m stepping into that weird ADULT threshold where I can act older than I actually am. I can engage in older activities, but at this point don’t have anyone to engage with.  I wrote a poem called “Weird” that was about this predicament (kind of) *warning there are expletives*:

People are weird.No let me rephrase that.I'm weird. I'm not like other people.
I don't have friends. I don't go out. I don't retell stories that start with, "I remember that time when I...when we...when this..."I don't hang out or chill or "Hey, let's do (insert awesome activity) at/on/this (insert time/day of week/month/year/season).I don't have raging Facebook posts/pics of all the places I've gone/things I've done.
Don't have rings/necklaces/bracelets or tattoos/piercings from when I went (insert awesome place).I'm fucking boring.
I don't have a black book, notches in my belt, or reasons to get dirty looks.
I don't live on the edge or between the lines.
I don't have a tag that says, "I'm cool because I've been/done/had/went/saw/was a part of... etc."I don't have a tag that says, "I'm uncool because...." you get the point.
I'm just here.Not really doing one thing or another. Not really being one thing or another. Not really fitting in, but not really sticking out. Like shit. What am I really? I guess, I’m just weird. Because I'm not weird, and I'm normal, I'm like oatmeal. Kind of bland, but I've got a dash of cinnamon and sugar so I'm not all that bad, but still there's no bang...This needs to change.

I ponder a lot on this, well mostly on that last part. How can I change this? How can I over turn years of habituation? And yet, before I even delve into that I have to ask myself, why is this an issue? What’s wrong with being a loner and having no friends? What’s wrong with just staying home and playing Lego’s with my 1 year old or gorging myself with all my favorite shows on Netflix? Well, because that’s just no way to live, especially not for a 22 year old. I was always one to preach on the soapbox that my life wasn’t over just because I had a child. And it’s not, especially when you have people waiting in the wings to babysit. If the opportunity arises I should be able to jump on it like a San Fran streetcar! But here’s the kicker, it has, and I just let that streetcar pass me by. I live in New York City! There’s no way that I shouldn’t be able to get myself out there and MAKE friends and ENGAGE in cool activities, but I can’t. Why, you ask? Well to be frank, I’m scared. And I don’t know how. These past few years have brought on a lot of changes, especially emotional ones. These changes that have turned me into a shadow of the person that I used to be, and I can’t get past that. This talent that I’ve cultivated over the years has left me hollow and shy, really shy. To top it off the problems just keep piling up and the stress just keeps pushing me down. Every once in a while I raise my hand up to ask for help and it just dangles there in the breeze, waiting. No response. This in turn pushes me farther down than I was before. And as easily as I found it to train others to forget me, I have started to forget myself. This need to change.

As a woman, a black woman at that, I cannot fall into that trap of just letting myself go. I have a daughter to raise, a black one at that. She will have the whole world trying to forget her before she’s even had a chance to make herself known. I have to show her that it’s unacceptable to fall into the shadows. I have to come out of mine, I can’t continue to wait for someone to come along, hold my hand and pull me out. If I cannot be a role model to her, than who can? If I don’t face this fear, this depression, this oxymoron, it will only get worse and I’ve beard witness to countless woman who held this as their only inheritance from their mothers. My daughter deserves better than my pitfalls, she deserves a legacy to build on. So even though I’m “normal” to some or “tainted” to others, I still take pride in being me, I think it’s time I shared that with others.  

If you can identify with some of the things I have talked about and are looking to come out of your shell you can find me at:

khadijacharles@gmail.com

Facebook.com/khadijacharles

Twitter.com/water_flowz

innovationfrminspiration.wordpress.com

linkedin.com/in/khadijacharles

You can also contact me if you are interested in being a part of a documentary I am going to be working on about slipping through the cracks.

I thought ....

I was thinking about publishing another post or something sort of to say... Happy New Year.

And so ....

Happy New Year.

It's 2014 and again, I don't feel that much different, but I do feel more hopeful.

I think.

no... I know.

I've decided to just play the tides out and work a little harder about going for what I want.

NOT what Tom, Joe, and Sally want. (nothing against anyone named that... good going for you.) But Olivia is the most important thing to me and I MUST do better by her this year.

She'll be two this year. I've decided to attach a picture of her loveliness.

Peek-a-Boo

Can you see her??

Isn't she just adorable?? hahahahahahahhaha

I'm sorry that was as much as I was willing to subject her to your scrutiny/judgment. Maybe one day I'll fully disclose myself and my daughter. Or possibly when my book publishes you'll just be able to Google us....  

Anyway, yes. 2014. 

I didn't say it last year, so maybe that's why it didn't come to fruition. But this is the year. That I break my barriers and reach my goals. Things are already happening, so I can feel it. I'm so excited. 

For those of you who've made it this far with me, thanks. Stick around there's more to come. 

And for those who've just hopped on this ride... Stick around, there's more to come.