The W spot. W is for Weak.

Interesting how expectations slowly build themselves in you without even noticing cause you're so busy and focused on other things.

I am so aware of my actions, words.. things I am responsible for.

Just recently, I discussed with a shrink about how much I say things to people and I jump into reactions etc...

That made me think. It was great to discuss all of it because I can see clearly where I am wrong, and where I am not.

I have given tons of free credit to certain people without them even asking.

I am the type of person who goes "oh yes, I love you and will be loyal to you my new friend" and that.. might be one of the dumbest and greatest bullshits of all times.

Having a loving nature cannot be mixed with being made a fool of.
The common ground is to get away with pretty much anything because at some point in time it became very normal and cool to act like a jerk.

More and more people became accepting and included it into humour, the talk about how God doesn't exist all sorts of cool things that people jumped into because of course, many wanna hang out with the cool or normal crowd.

Well... that was never me. I was always a believer, a loving person by nature.. things did go very well and some other things not so much.

I then took full responsibility for it all. Today I know better and put a stop to it.

I was raised to be strong, not bother, help and not be helped. I was raised to be half boy/half girl so to speak..it was what my father knew what to do to protect me from my completely psychotic mother. I get that.

Of course, as offsprings we rebel...we try to be different and leave those roots  behind till one day we look in the mirror and see "oh shit, I really do have a lot of my mother and my father" why the fuck are you so surprised? It's not like you were breastfed by a shewolf :/

For a long time, I sent a wrong message to everyone around me. They thought I was a godless strong amazon of some sort. A clown..whatever something that I just put on to give them a good show. It was never a problem.

After my child was born everything changed. When he became a different person, it changed again. I died physically about 3 times and came back. Emotionally I died many times more and came back.. I can honestly say I must be blood related to some zombie nation breed that started somewhere in Brazil at some point in time.

My goal is not to motivate anyone. My deepest wish is to have people not go through what I have been through without surviving it. I myself have made peace with death. I have seen it, I know how it feels, more than that, I know it's not my choice to get the fuck out of here when I want.

I want to help people as always have. Now I can't, now I my hands are tied. I try my best from distance, but if I stay here long enough, I hope to help more. Helping is healing. My son has taught me something incredibly important these past few months.

He taught me that it is really not Okay for me to let people get away with just anything they say to me. He taught me to recognize that I am entitled to this new pain, and to get as far away as possible from those who don't belong. I don't have to save anyone. It's not my job description as a human being, let alone as his mother. Doors are to be opened and shut!

People can disagree with me, agree.. it does not matter. What has always mattered was what is being done. I am a doer. I do things. I get shit done. And, even though I am being challenged by my humanity and weakeness, I still am going to continue to get things done. Will cry my damn eyes out when some cocky stranger gets smart on my ass..and get over that.. I get over shit that doesn't really matter. What makes me sad is because I take to liking people too fast, and then BAM, they tell me hey Fernanda, don't be silly..we really don't know each other. 

I really am at a very reactive and vulnerable stage, which I hate to be.. but, don't feel bad about. I better own this shit because I have ALWAYS helped others when THEY were just the way I am now.. so.. we're taking turns.. this is mine.

I'll step out of it.. What needs to be understood and clear.. is that one needs to grab one's own hand to step out of anything. You can listen to others, accept smiles, words, etc. But, really.. look at your own damn feet. If your fucking brain don't move them. Nothing will. They say they care. It's fine. It's like a drug.. they believe it. But, if they take a little sip of your daily drug, just watch how they run. Some slower, some real fast. Guess what? That is OK. It's no one's fault. I'm not even mentioning fault. Fuck fault!

There is a reason for this to be called YOUR LIFE... and it's what you take care of.

You.