diasporic located self/pain and family

You know that feeling of when  it hurts so much you feel like you are always crying, in your heart, with your body everything is dripping tears…thats how i fell today, thats how i been feeling all week. I guess that’s why it’s called sorrow. I guess that’s why it’s called heartbreak.  I guess that is why it’s called growing pains….

Growing pains because i’ve decided to continue to live my life for me, to dream up how  i want to be living, where i want to be living, who i envision myself with, what i envision myself doing and to actively struggle, work for and fight for it…i feel threatened that people will attempt to take away my dreams for my family, for myself…more and more i think of my brothers and sisters and the vast difference in quality of life that we’ve had and how i represent so much of what the western world is to them(i should say western imperialism at the expense of others while asserying thier superiority as if it is “right”, all the while claiming justice, freedom and equality )…and their ‘progress’. My family sacrificing and deterring their dreams just so i can be here and have continued to now for years and will continue to.

Yes, its complicated with my family from the times when all i did was caretake, from the time when that was all i was constructed as the evil/oddly demanding must caretake and therefore be taken care off..its a weird arrangement where folks in my family felt/feel guilt and other emotions that compelled them to either justify the ways that i was not normalized or centred in the family to centre me in other ways..especially in relation to abuse/rape/trauma…sometimes my brain cant handle everything all together and i think ignore that for now….

And yet, it sit at the back of my mind, i any case, all that aside where it is true that i was not a powerful position in my family in the past, that has shifted radically, i have the most earning potential, the one with western arrogance and entitlement that feels i can change my world around me and shape my world around me as i see fit, the one with non practical/strategic dreams when my mother in her late forties is still thinking in terms of what is practical/strategic for the family and not in what would satisfy her personal desires and needs…apparently she wanted to be a writer and has volumes of journals bound up just waiting for someone to read…or do anything with. her story locked down on paper, my mother. The rest of the family, most of the family i have watched attempt to navigate this push and pull, i mean extended family and most of them have eventually settled on taking of care of their own nuclear family. And i cant blame them, that is why i can/could have gone through the times i was eating at the foodbank, living in shelters, walking with my Achilles in the snow to school and work after just so i could take care of my lonesome without falling back on an abusive exploitative situation where i was extremely vulnerable: i mean without entering partnerships/friendships etc where i was extremely vulnerable to abuse due to physical, mental, poverty condition…

In the last 7 years only one of my aunts has given me even $1, i ‘ve had noone and absolutely no one in my family to even think or consider asking for support. It continues to break my heart. And so i don’t want my family to say that, i continue to support my brothers and sisters when i can, even if its fifty dollars here and there just so that they know, that they have the security that comes from knowing that when if they should need $50 quick, i will be there…. that brings a smile to my face.

So i;ve been planning/scheming, all  of it has been keeping me up at night, knowing that i need to position myself for the betterment of my family, for the betterment of myself, that the ways that i sacrificed..it is two way…my darling sisters have lived without me for the past ten years in the sameways that i have had to live to live without them, its been a two way street and i think of it and ask myself WHY? Because we are African? Why all this suffering everywhere, all over the place?I know i’m not the only one suffering and that makes it worse..noone to say oh let me lean on you because you are really enjoyin…no everyone has their cross to carry.

I guess I have resentment because when i was leaving 9ja, the teenager that i was,, i thought i was coming to bE with my extender family they would provide and care for me as this was my initial experience staying with one of my uncles but after that initial experience, this was no longer the case….

Perhaps that is the only left over hurdle from immigrating unexpectedly without really knowing what i was in for..but then again how much could i know, i was a teenager. How much do i know now STILL..very little as this reality scares the hell out of me, i will have very many learning curves, steep ones at that before i can be well adjusted, perhaps that is what well adjustedness is about? In anycase i plan.

I am tentatively, anxiously making all these gutt wrenching plans about my livelihood, my lovelife, my spiritual life, my physical person, my character, my skill set..everything is being carefully crafted…knowing just how much there is at stake, or at least i’ve convinced myself that there is indeed so much at stake..what am I saying, there is so very much at stake….MY Life!!

Grindin’…who my pusher??? dear diary #5

(this used to be my JAM..heavy rotation)

Dear diary,

So even though i wasn’t writing about my counselling experiences any more mostly because umm, they were very GOOD and required a lot of processing i stopped going to counselling now for approximately 5 months…thats wayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy too long. I fucked up my last counsellor and therefore lost my spot: leaves most of the people around me going: SO are you in counselling? What happened to your counsellor? And i realized that i’m bring A Lot of my thoughts to them to process for/with me, shit i usually do with my counsellor also I’m back to feeling very unsure about 50000000000000 things that i definitely want a sounding board at the very least.

Not the mention the PRESSURE

Deadline 1: July 31

Deadline 2: September 19

Deadline 3; September 15 All of which are personally crucial, that leave a little over a month to get my shit together.

Grinding…LOL
(I really havent read all the hiphop literary stuff which i been meaning todo this summer..Still i’m like its funny (i refer to the glaring constant of rich ass people like my boi there pharell talkn bout grindn like he on the street or Knaan talking bout pirates with his cdn ass or african talking bout jane and finch like this aint no genocide..like we are all racing to the mofo bottom while somehow buying into the race we gon win suthing in the end and those who PLAY as if they running 4 real…do get a lil sumthin if you can call pharell and his crew lil… )

As an aside: Yesterday a coworker was like “you got any african books with strong ‘positive’ female figures and i was like..stutter, stutter, DAMN…as in fiction? I was actually stuttering and i realized..all i’ve been reading are maculine narratives straight UP…besides catching up on the older school like Bessie Head, Ba mariama, Emecheta, Nwapa…I am totally not up to date, of course i read Adiche but still i shouldn’t be stuttering, We gonna have to fix that…ASAP

i want to work in NIGERIA

I have a question: How does one land a job doing policy + human rights+ activist+ feminist organizing community education and strategic social planning in Nigeria? HOW?

I would do almost anything to get a job like that..i don’t want to make the equivalent of what i’m making now even though that would be nice instead i just want to work in my country…but i have NO Idea where to start…

And i’m not the only one in this position, i think that there are A LOT of recent graduates who really want to return home and work but feel somehow that they cannot access the NGO’s at home instead mostly white folk manage to do that…what’s that about or am i missing something?

I mean its not like i’m claiming qualification based solely on identity i utilize my skills here to help/contribute to the canadian state and achieving social equality or at least towards it..i want to do that for my own state.

That being said: I’m very fucking worried about how i’ve become a ‘hybrid’ (referring to my relatively new understanding of the ways that diaspora, folks indoctrinated in a special kind of westernness acquired from living on western land eg: the luxury and overprivileged consumption and accompanying entitlement of north america) meaning that i will definitely become an exporting agent of ‘civilization’ and neoliberal progress….

I still want to go home. Yes, I’m so tired of Canada, I feel like…i mean WHO will teach my brother feminism? Who will tell my sister that Jehovah does NOT have to be her salvation since she got raped WHO..I can but i’m not there. I’m not there.

I can sit and dream and write and study and postulate and use all the grammar and fight stupid ppower positioning wars in the diasporic but where and how does that fit in with what I believe in, with what i Want to be doing? Who exactly will stop the state law that gives nigerians 15years for indecent dressing or homosexual acts, Who will draw attention to the ridiculous and horrifying rate of sexual violence of both genders in that country.

I dont even want to ‘HELP’ everybody. NO, i want to give something back to my family, i want to offer love to my family….I want to be a part of my family, village, my state. I would say that i could try to build family friendship with non bio family, i have but even then they weren’t any more loving or less fucked up. Same diff…

I need to think/write about this whole home thing more, family thing more..its been a while since i thought about it consciously… I used to deeply resent my family but we/they/i have moved out of the sheer amount of time and energy investment…life lesson: ENERGY and time, moves shit…

dear diary #4

Its 3pm, i strolled into work @ 12 pm …another fucking benefit of living with a disability (Ok so i’m very bitter about all my ablebodied so called friends and every other fucking bitch ass disabled or not that even thinks that the fucking argument of taking advantage of “fucking accommodations makes ANY sort of remote sense..WHY ? go read a fucking book: check under the normalizing, dominating, oppressive, position of the ‘’healthy/fit/normal body and the ridiculous unearned privilege and entitlement ” thats the most i can do for your ass….)

Point is, i’m feeling drained, stressing about money, stressing about the people/lack of healthy/supportive relationships in my life, stressing about how i’m supposed to live my life as i’m surrounded by albeit unwitting agents of domination??????

I think most importantly i’m heartbroken…people are assholes, JERKs, unfeeling self centred, egotistically beings thats how we think we neeed to survive. I’m just so distrusting and fearful of everyone around me right now….EVERYONE…i might be losing my mind.

Can someone be ableist and love me? I cannot let myself that someone who cannot admit that they are ableist is NOT ableist…the first step towards not being ableist is to admit that you are…

To watch ppl be like you need counselling/help/support: WHAT the fuck is that shit about? Its slimy nasty to me its like a fucked up way of silencing/pathologizing that allows people to refuse to deal/engage with you…demanding individual western individual health/ways of being – talk to your counsellor not to me…

I’m trying to work….take my mind of this shit, what am i expected to do?

In friendship/lovership: you gotta develop your standards for how you want to treated… i’m sure i’m recreating the wheel, i need to find my ‘magickal’ friends/hope that those i already have with embrace the magic of our relationship…either way i need to find supportive folks/peer s around this shit…

6 days of yeast…

Report 2

This report expands on the notions, ideas and positions of the first report ‘garlic yeast and my vagina’ includes more thoughts and activities while remaining descriptive, clear and detailed in nature.

After 6 days of Yeast…

At this point i’m feeling so good, burning completely forgotten, smell forgotten, itch forgotten that i’m very impatient…i want to know if i am cured, i want to fuck, i want to know when i can stop shoving garlic up my vagina…  

Day 7

I begin to explore masturbation, i notice that on touching my labis, rubbing clit, i am still very sensitive, leading to discomfort…still 1 clove at a time. All the time using strictly water for wash

DAY 7-12: Uneventful, very minimal secretion, fluctuates distinctly with levels of sugar intake. For example, i can feel an increase in secretion less than an hour after consuming a glass of wine/juice or worse a cinnabon!

Day 12

I’m realizing that my period is here…so i don’t know. Observations interrupted by menstrual cycle.

Garlic ,Yeast and my vagina

 

(This is a report back on the status of my vagina and feelings of myself towards my vagina based on certain factors namely level of discomfort due to secretions/condition of the vagina and actual observable state of vagina regardless of discomfort or pleasure caused and smell general aura of vagina, including possible projections on all above mentioned factors, will influence how i feel about the vagina and can admittedly impact actual vagina feelings in the future..It will be descriptive and clear and detailed in nature)

Day 1

Initial discovery of Yeast infection

Status of vagina: lots of white, sort of yeasty smelly secretion, observable if finger is inserted inside vagina at also slight coverage of labia, burns when rubbed or over touched in compulsive cleaning..very moist, feels like i’m secreting cream.

Caused extreme discomfort and unease mainly because i was unsure about what to do, I’d been so careful about the pH balance of my poon since i already found out that my vagina is VERY sensitive to anything that will disrupt this balance and reacts accordingly, upset with myself for ‘forgeting’ about her, about me for a minute till she screamed at me with foam at her lips..

Future worries: no sex, that sucks, that it will hurt/burn when i pee, fear that my pussy wont be very much ‘fun’ in the next week excited at the possibility of getting to know her better, wondering and processing why i felt compelled to use fragrant soap/wipes ESP when i am/was single and not very sexually active.

Day 2

High discomfort, nothing done till evening

Inserted chemical capsule and used wipes that created INSTANT relief though not from feeling wet/moist like i was secreting cream cheese….

Not much thought otherwise

Day 3

Woke up not liking the oily residue of said inserted capsule

VERY emotionally upset about this whole thing for a number of reasons: I was not taking care of myself primarily, it just felt uncomfortable, don’t like wincing when urine passing through rubbed labia flesh, don’t like feeling compulsively dirty in my vagina and like i need to be CLEAN, trauma shit coincides wayyyy to conveniently. My vagina is not dirty, it does not need to clean, don’t like….

Decided to go without anything but water

Day 4

Enjoyed most of the day, watched felt, observed, smelt tasted said secretions…

Noticed it was less thick somehow or maybe it was just the capsule leaving finally, VERY ITCHY tough, burn burn cos i ignored the itch

Day 5

Decided to look into ‘home remedies’

Inserted a clove of garlic all day, felt like i cooked the garlic but it provided INSTANT relief without the burn/took away impulse to itch and sratch, therefore reducing burn, however heightened interest in the secretions like why they turn brown once out of the vagina, or in contact with garlic…not very moist either except deep in my vagina which seemed unimpacted by garlic…love the smell J

Had a garlicy meal, spent the night with a clove DEEP in my vagina..decided to change cloves regularly (3/day).

Evening out of curiousity crushed garlic lightly with a coffee mug and attempted to insert in vagina..GOOD LORD, horrible burn and pain…but it cleared all the skin of the white secretion almost instantly…stimulated instant painful pee…horrible yet i was glad i found out..DONT PUT CRUSHED GARLIC IN YOUR POON lol,

Feelin good about ppon, like i took charge..still loving the smell, though less noticeable to me now, regrettably so..Noticed that garlic appeared like it was slightly steamed…is that good/bad?

DAY 6

Sat at work ALL day with garlic up my poon

No worries at all, seems to be very effective, no issues with moisture/secretion except deep in my pussy.

Infact wondering about sex, Oh and garlic stays put while i pee etc.

Tonight will try 2 cloves.

more yeast

Interesting yeasty stuff..thoughts notes

BIRTHCONTROL: Apparently birth control weakens your immune system and something about the hormones and upsetting the balance of your poonani/pussy/vagina (from hereonin to be used interchangeably for the purposes of this blog) pH can produce thrush, also known as a proliferation of naturally occurring bacteria in the poon leading to a yeast invasion of said genital areas..question u fit get yeast for gnash?

Another thing, men can transmit yeast infections, since it really doesn’t affect them that much like HPV- Human papilloma virus, trust me you want to get that regular pap test (except for the telling moles/growths on the phallus..ignore to a perilous adventure with HPV ladies)… so any play including dry/wet humping which i especially enjoy means chances are increased..DAMN that is too bad.

For me, i think multiple partners/rapid changes in sexual rhythm is a big issue. I don’t think physically my pussy like dick, like the juices, latex, lube all that shit is too much for my pampered pussy..i use strictly pH neutral lotions and body washes to ensure that she always most comfortable. She spoiled.

So today i shove a clove of garlic up my poon, i;ve drank about 1.42L of cranberry cocktail couldn’t get my hands on the no sugar added stuff but i’ll make myself a smoothie when i get home. I’m sitting all day in my chair at my desk, in my little corner of the office and the garlic works, as in there’s a little itch, slight burning but there isn’t the additional moisture of pharmaceutical capsule (none of those getting a shout out on this hurr blog). In any case, no extra gunk, i like the herby/garlicy smell of my poon..its fragrant and i like pungent and intense in a light nice way…

I will try and track down the apple cider vinegar when i get home and do a douche of that apparently it works wonders and i like feeling my poon, alive and reacting, and reminding me its there..its nice. Now that i don’t bleed as much we don’t get intimate just chilling time anymore unless its sexual or hygiene related..but now almost every couple of hours my fingers are up in my poon. I think i’ll change the clove at the end of the day. I never realized how much i missed being connected to my poon.

DRY MOUTH, don’t let no body go down on you if they have dry mouth for REAL..apparently it causes an abundance of bacteria/thrush in their mouth easily transferrable to wherever they apply themselves orally. You feel me?  

Alright so from my quick google search here are the home remedy recommendations that i intend to explore to rid myself of this yeast:

Plain Yougurt: full of naturally occurring bacteria, without the artiifical sweeteners, sugar- to breed more bacteria for my poon

Apple cider vinegar: awesome for temporary soothing, MAKE SURE TO DILUTE..that shit will burn your pussy lips off

Garlic – just pretend Dracula has promised to visit your ass..shove it up your poon, you wont pussy ingest it (copyright detox), eat it if you can etc

Oil of Oregano – just cos that shit will kill everything and get you some naturally occurring fatty acids: SALMON here i come.

I’m gonna spend some time centreing me and my poon, we might do some fun activities, i’m gonna have to report back on that.

thats it for now…

Oh and i love my new job..no fucking joke

Oh another note: For the record: even though i used ‘fucked up’ language to talk about a yeast ‘invasion/infection/transmission’…i am fully present and aware of the fuckery rooted in ableism + repression of womens sexuality, fear of death/scientific western constructions of death/survival and of course ‘progress’…i don’t even want to start all this to stay the mutherfuckers/bitches who attempt to insinuate/remind me/perpetuate ANY kind of above mentioned narratives in my life..ma fire o…plus i really gotta remember that for myself. Not to mention the stigma associated with disease..

It might be fun to fuck but that might hurt a lil too much for my masochistic self..RIGHT…lol

Dont really expect anyone to get my self jokes

YEAST..lots of it

I broke the sex rule and the pussy gods and goddesses are punishing me SERIOUSLY i’ve been graced with a mean horribly fucking uncomfortable YEAST invasion of my poonani, i’m ridiculously irritated and i can’t even get tested not that i wasn’t safe..its just weird, its been a while since i had a FULL BLOWN yeast invasion of my vagina for the record I HATE IT. Now, i couldn’t even have sex if i wanted to, it hurts