The Dark Side of Grief

I could never spell grief without saying i before e. I write this and I think it's I before E - I (me) before E (everything). It took me 48 years to put myself first.

48 years

My 8 year old niece who lives with me said to me yesterday - "Tete at this point you let Jordan do whatever he wants". The truth is for the most part I always have. He's 28 now, so he should be doing whatever he wants but her statement really hit me...

I tried to parent differently than my parents. The things I remember about my childhood are

arguments, breaking the glass table (more than once)

entertainment center falling

leaving to go 2 miles to my aunt's house feeling like my cousin hated me

getting a hot comb to my hair, threats of being strapped to the chair

grill cheese

rice with every meal (I still love rice and gravy)

shopping on the weekends

trips to Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana

Boblo boat which feels like it has more O & B's in it...

having about 2 adults (cousins) who really saw me, as in let me be me

being teased in high school

Detroit Urban

moving to another city because life was supposed to be "better" which often times I think moving destroyed our lives (my parents, my sister and my own)

finding out I was pregnant and hearing my mother call me a bitch... "Bitch, I knew you were pregnant"

I guess this is why being called a bitch never offended me, I first heard it from my mother.

I'm so sure she wasn't the first... but right in my face so close... I don't even think I reacted. One thing I could never do was disrespect my mother.

I think some will say until now...

I write for me. Release. Nobody is perfect.

I get sad... my mom won't even be at my wedding.

I remember she said to me when my sister was getting married "at least I get to see one daughter get married". I never reacted then either. What did she mean? Did she know she would be decease? Or was that a foreshadow? Am I not worthy of being a wife?

Overthinking. I overthink the things that don't really matter. I can't ask her... I'll never know so why get stuck on it? Yet, I am.

I get it she was 39 about to be a grandmother... but she never talked to me about boys, or how a boy was supposed to treat a girl or how special my purity was... truth is nobody had that talk with me... I was never prepped for life... or was I?

I had to do things differently with my son... only to bring him in this world and mess him up with my unresolved childhood trauma. This is why I go so hard for my son. I know I did a disservice to him. I knew back then... but still I chose me. This is the one time I chose me incorrectly. I should have chosen to love myself first so I could love him better. I thought my baby boy would love me and fix all of my problems... I was a misinformed child... a child having a child... child out of wedlock... the start of the generational curse... or was it?

Teach the children.

I thought I was the first to have a child out of wedlock, but I wasn't... I didn't start the curse, I was just a part of it.

Let me say this for the people in the front and the back and most importantly for my son if he ever reads this - you Jordan were never a mistake. I prayed for you. God, in spite of me doing it all wrong having sex before marriage, blessed me with a beautiful baby boy. You are the reason I am who I am today, literally in this very moment. It's because of you. I love you.

So who is this bitch Tikisha? I am that girl. God's gift. I can say that and not be ashamed or feel like I need to dumb myself down. I've done things not many people can say they've done at a young age... I read at an early age, I graduated high school a year early.

I say these things shining bright.

I was taught to be humble.

Humble: having or showing a modest or low estimate of one's own importance

of low social, administrative, or political rank

I told my client "don't be humble" and I meant it!

Why would we EVER want to have the term "low" associated with ourselves?

I took being humble literally... low self-esteem.

I believe the lesson was probably there is a time and a place for everything... it's okay to be that girl and it's okay for another woman to be that girl too... you're not stealing her shine... you have her own... however, it's a time in a place for everything... you may need to adjust the brightness.

Let the bride shine... you're a bridesmaid. Bride's. Maid. Maid. MAID.

I hear women hate women and love men.

Do you describe a boy mom and a girl mom the same?

Parents of both do you treat them the same?

Do we love our sons "more"?

I remember giving a testimony in church... the day after Christmas my son and I went shopping it was snowing and on the way home we had a head on collision. My mother was in Marrero, LA at the time. I called her in a panic... my car was totaled, I was burned from the air bags... I was just a mess and couldn't regain my composure... she told me to call my father... she told me that a lot... I was scared. I just had an accident and I was scared to call my own father. He's going to be mad I told my mother. I was out shopping in a blizzard... He's going to call me stupid. Truth is my father has never called me anything but Tikisha... same as that very day... he didn't yell. He's never yelled at me, neither of my parents... I can't recall a moment of being yelled at. Anyway, He simply picked us up. I never asked my mom if she called him to prep him and I never asked my dad... I'll never know... I told this story in church, about the accident. I was just so grateful that God spared our lives. We literally slid 2 lanes over into incoming traffic and aside from minor scrapes and bruises nobody was seriously injured.

After telling my story two things happened:

1) I believe she was the treasurer of the church but she said that happened because I paid my tithes. I said nothing. I was pissed off! Ma'am really. You think God did this because I give a set amount of money to the church weekly - how do you know it's my tithes? Have you seen a paystub? A tax return?

My blessings are not measured how much I give to a particular business.

2) A young man came up to me and said I had an accident too... I was confused. Why didn't you give your testimony as well then? Why are you telling me? I believe I said I'm glad you're okay, which I was but - what were his intentions?

Why why why do you have to have a relatable story?????? Shut up sometimes. Listen.

Process.

I talk to be listened to I don't talk to be heard

hear... perceive... listen give one's attention

I thought should I had not told my story? I was just so happy God spared me... I had to share, right? Once again my light dimmed. I thought maybe I shouldn't have said anything.

She made it about tithing when I've never tithed 10% of my gross income a day in my life. I felt bad for those struggling to donate anything to the church as she just boasted a lie about me being a tither. He made it about him... was he trying to bond with me? Talk about the safety feature of the cars? Again... what was that all about?

I think about those who move in silence... how were they nurtured growing up?

What makes me want to talk? to share? The girl who hates sharing.

Peel another layer... the girl who shares, often overshares, but tells you nothing at all.

They say you can't trust a liar but everybody lies so who can you trust?

Random thought: If you know a person struggles with something try talking to them on how you can help them. I run businesses but I am socially awkward. I'm not promoting my business every time I walk out of the house. It's just not me...

You can compliment on an outfit and I never say oh I'm a stylist here's my card...

Missing me. I put aside my awkwardness for others but not for myself. Missing me. One more time - missing me.

Give credit where credit is due...

Do. Action. Failure........ keep trying though.

Can I be a spiritualist when I wake the devil? Depression

Yet, I am that same person that talks to strangers all the time. Ask my eldest niece. lol

Should we always have to face our fears?

Is fear necessary for growth?

Can we really have ease and joy?

You think you know me but you don't...

I barely know me.... confident, arrogant, bougie, insecure, rarely anxious but always awkward

FACE FEAR BE COURAGEOUS

Raised on you're the oldest

that's the right thing to do = yes to them no to yourself

Humble... insecure... so I don't always shine my light... but it's still seen.

I don't shine my light but you see it... it enters the room before me... it radiates

I cause you to shine.

Truth is, I make things better... and if I don't make you better you should probably exit my life NOW

I write this as tears stream from my face. I didn't realize all the suppressed hurt.

How I literally just said my truth - I make life better

What's the point of human race if we can't make life better?????

I am light. Until it's dimmed... no purpose.

Empath. Make me selfish......................................... or just KILL me.

Son, never dim your light. NEVER EVER

What I remember the most is praises for good grades. My parents had me on a reward system. I knew if I got good grades, back then we got what they called "updates" on a I believe bi-weekly, I would receive praises... in simpler terms I would be acknowledged...

Typically, with material items.

Acknowledgment

As all relationships evolve those with my parents changed constantly. I've always placed my mother on a pedestal - a pedestal that I was always jumping trying to reach. I never did reach that pedestal. I was so busy trying to get to her level, the level I felt if I just reached a little higher she'd see me, love me HOW I NEEDED TO BE LOVED but truth is she died before I ever even touched that pedestal. I never had a heart to heart... to let her know so many things that hurt me, times I felt alone, times I felt envious of her and my sister, we said I love you to one another every single day but I never told her how many times I need more than her words...

This is the dark side of grief... the unanswered questions, the unresolved emotions

Have you ever missed a person that was shitty to you?

I am not bashing my mother.

She was NEVER shitty but I've allowed shitty people in my life, repeatedly.

Why? Why do we settle for mistreatment, especially with men?

She did the best she could. I would like to believe most parents are doing the best they can... I just wish I knew my mother, as a person... as Dorothy.

I wish this version of Tikisha could have talked to Dorothy.

What were her fears?

What did she wish she could have done differently?

Was I ever good enough for her?

How did getting a divorce change her life?

Did she have any regrets?

How does she feel about my spirituality?

I don't want to be perfect. I can't.

I don't want to be the trophy child. I can't.

I don't want to be measured or praised by material things.

I remember saying if she was alive she would have posted the podcast all over her page... now I wonder... I remember when I first started The Closet Piece... I tried many things with that brand from fashion styling to having an online boutique. She never posted about that... never. Why?

I can see my mother's Facebook post. She always posted my material items. When I bought my son his first brand new car... Am I not more than what I owned?

Mothers are human.

Proud parents wanting and watching their kids do better than them...

Measuring your child's accomplishments based on your accomplishments....

In my case I measured myself based on everybody around me, including the accomplishments of my parents... never feeling good enough. I felt less than because I had no degree... all while making $100,000/year... and here I am now working towards my PhD, because I want too not because I'm measuring myself by the standards of what those around me have done.

Here I am with no income living the time of my life no photo. (my truth is hidden in many lyrics)

Mothers... We don't always get it right... we don't always admit when we get it wrong...

I miss my mother tremendously.

My mother provided me with every single thing I ever wanted. She encouraged me to buy myself every single thing I've ever wanted. She instilled in me to do what makes me happy.

It just took 47 years for me to finally do that... make myself happy... to decode her message.

I think of how everything stems from something... what was her connection with material things?

High Class Society (a random thought)

Social Media... post "accomplishment" but not struggles

The testimony tells of the benefits but now how long you wait and the 1001 obstacles it took to get there... incomplete stories

I want to be relatable, informative

I also want to know I'm not alone

Am I the only person with a ; has no one ever wanted to unalive themself

my brain...

I am sure all of us can speak on what our mother's didn't do... I feel like it's a sin to speak negatively of the deceased but my truth is my truth.

I wish she was alive to tell me her truth. I can't say this enough... I wish Tikisha knew Dorothy.

I hear... plead the blood of Jesus

when you get paid treat yourself, even if it's a pair of panties

it's already written

what's going to happen is going to happen, you can't avoid it

pray

I learned to be strong, which for me meant face your fears. I watched my mother do things I knew she was terrified to do but she did it...

We like to think "I didn't have a choice" but everything is a choice.

No choice is a choice...

My mother while she made some bad decisions, we all have... she loved herself. She always walked in her divine feminine. She lit up a room. She never dimmed her light. I would watch others try to dim her light... I've been able to see jealous spirits for a long time... but she never allowed it. She knew she was that girl.

I hear enemies closer.

I wonder how I failed her... it's a two-way street. It's just not on the parents. I've talked repeatedly about my hospital regret and the last 2 months of her life... but I never talked about how I failed her prior to those days... when I didn't give her grace... when I didn't realize things were probably different with my sister and her children because she had learned more and was able to give more...

Maybe I had put on the front of having it all together that nobody saw the little girl that didn't know shit about life... Geesh.

Mama's baby Daddy's maybe

I listened to that man talk to me try to tell me what I already know but I just played like I was stupid.

My daddy said I did that for 40 years and this man gonna try to tell me... but I played stupid.

I hear my female friends tell me well you grew up with a Dad in your house... what does that mean exactly? Death is real. It's always on my mind. Imagine thinking of being raised in the same household with your father but if it came down to having to write his obituary you don't even know how many brothers and sisters he has...

What I do know NOW is that man loves me. I grew up thinking I was adopted. I never felt love from him. It's funny how roles reverse. It's been 7 years since my mother's passing.

At the time of my mother's death... I wondered (still do) does/did she love me? I never doubted my mother's love for me until she died... Why? Have I convinced myself that my action or inaction during that time caused her to love me less?

Her love was never displayed as conditional. She's the reason I know what unconditional love is...

Why do allow my lower self to take control?

I didn't know a lot about my father - private isn't the word. He's a closed book!

He taught me how to read.

Read that again and process it...

He's a closed book I can't see the words in his story but he taught me how to read.

I lost my mother in the physical, but I gained my father. I am completely incomplete... I've been able to work through - SHADOW WORK - a lot of skeletons in my closet.

There is still so much of me that is unhealed.

I was raised by parents I didn't know as individuals... why did my mother have a gambling addiction? Where did it come from? Why did it have a chokehold on her?

Why do people love to tell you the negative things about your loved ones? Oh, your daddy was a drunk. He wasn't even there.... Then you hear his story. The narrative you now adapt as your truth.

I'm peeling my own layers.

My parents taught me every single thing I needed to know to survive in this world.

EVERTHTING

Teach the children.

Crying. I pause. I go into my son's room. I sit. I cry. I tell him I'm sorry. I just want to be a good mom.... I think of the passed down unhealed trauma from generations to generations.

I misspelled everything. I notice it... later... this is probably why I cried... are parents even capable of teaching you everything you need to know? Nope.

Life is hard. I'm over it... I just might be a fraud.

Maybe I'm human. I can actually admit this shit is hard... up and down... good and bad... all at once.

How can I explain I hate life but happiest I've ever been? No fucking clue!!!!

I hear Toni Jones... telling me to take up space.

I align. I receive my power back. I hear Joy + Soul.

My mother told me my dad grew up without a mom. I don't think I knew the impact of that for either of them, missing a parent... I believe my mother was in her twenties when her mom passed. I think of my son... missing a parent.

I think of myself missing my mother.

Yearning for her presence. Present Tense. Here.

Hear her. Here with her.

I did a terrible thing today. I wished I was dead.

God take me in my sleep.

Woke up... still here.

I dreamed - Barbara, cake, birthday

Jumbled thoughts... what's clear my tribe isn't my tribe. Is a tribe real? Are families real? Friends real?

I need my mother.

I need myself.

I need my son. I am not the best mom, mental issues will do that to you... I see my words getting twisted.

off with my own head

Show me a human with nothing wrong internally?

Who's the perfect human?

Regret... the dark side of grief.

I was raised by parents I didn't even know. Children often forget their parents are people, humans too... wait, pause I have a history, an ancestral background I don't even know...

How important is your past to your future?

I am my parent's child....

I'm not from the trenches but I know how to handle bitches.

I don't play fair. This is why I don't like games.......

Civil War

Luke 12 I must trust my intuition, I can't be anxious for anything, Greed is a horrible thing, No worries, Know better Do better

consider the ravens, the blackbirds

I think of the Common Grackles they've taken over the bird feeders.... poor sparrows

"You are worth more than many sparrows"

The hairs on my head are all counted!

Luke 12:49-53

it's not peace but division, the necessity of struggle

I try to say this every time for the newbies. I write as I'm thinking, often out of order... no proofreading so expect mistakes unlike most I'm not perfect and I'm absolutely okay with that.

Beautifully Weird

I am still thinking about this... edits

04/08/2024

04/09/2024