Cracked Cement

Years back my heart was trapped in an extremely toxic relationship and after managing to escape that nightmare I took as much time as I needed to be broken…to repair.

Not wanting to replay the past, I decided to keep any relationship casual. No strings, no commitment, no personal attachment whatsoever. However, casual ended up not working out, seems as though I’m not the master of detachment as I thought I was. But, a serious relationship was not a card in the deck. See, part of being in a serious relationship means that your walls need to be taken down, that you allow your fears and insecurities to be seen…you have to allow yourself to be vulnerable.

Love means that you have placed your trust and your heart into the hands of your partner while praying to God that they don’t break your heart or use your insecurities against you, resulting in your destruction. Honestly, the most terrifying aspect of love. One aspect I didn’t want to go through again.

So I devised this plan of giving up on looking for “the one”, giving up on love. I knew that my heart would be filled with pain by this suffocation, but I figured that this type of pain was better than feeling the pain created by another. At least this type of pain was one that I could control. I never said that this was a smart plan, it just seemed necessary.

This ridiculous plan that my brain conjured up seemed to work, at least in my blind eyes. However, as of lately a different type of pain has seeped into my heart like venom, but I can’t suck it out. I am walking through unfamiliar territory here, a darkness I can’t see in, control that’s out of my control.

This different pain, it’s sadness and emptiness entangled together and it runs through a deepness that I had never felt before. This ticker of mine, it continues to beat yet without rhythm. I feel it thumping inside my ribcage, yet it’s not alive.

I hate this level of heaviness I’m feeling, but I can’t seem to resesitate the contentment that my heart used to hold.

I thought that I was better off alone…I’m supposed to be able to better alone…I’m the one who supposed to survive through anything…

September 29th, 2018

If I was allotted only one word to describe the other night, that word would be Epic.

This world we live in is torn between love and hate, there hasn’t been a balance in quite some time. Just as we were getting to that place of celebrating our differences, that place of common courtesy and acceptance…the world went into a dark spin causing a split chain reaction.

However, an event occured on Saturday, September 29th, 2018 that placed thousands of people under one roof for one purpose and one purpose only…

To rock their little beating hearts out…to soak in that reminder that we are all car crashed hearts.

For 4 hours, age…race…careers…body type…gender…sexual orientation…disabilities…Non of these statuses mattered.

The beats soothed any pain while the lyrics stitched every broken piece.

Every look was met with a smile and every interaction met with kindness.

Every body jumped and danced while every voice sang until their lungs gave out.

On Saturday, September 29th, 2018… everyone was equal.

Long live the car crashed hearts crying on the couch while the poets come to life, fix me in forty-five… -Fall Out Boy

2 Months…Holy Shit.

Great title right…I thought so too.

The last two months have been a blurred whirlwind. This dream of becoming a brilliant writer who’s story is shared around the world, who’s story may make a difference in how our society thinks…it’s been a ride to say the least. The current publisher I am with has been next to no help in keeping their part of the contract up, so a decision had to be made.

Two weeks ago as I was washing off the day in the shower, as the vanilla suds washed away I took my five minutes. Five minutes to allow the hot downpour to cancel out the sound of tears streaming down my freckled cheeks. Five minutes to allow the anxiety to fill my head with every self bullying comment to break me down. Five minutes to allow this depressional storm to finish drowning my confidence. And, then in the last few seconds of self destruction, a decision…quit or fight?

Now I excel at many things, however, quitting has never been one of those things. For whatever reason, no matter how deeply I want to quit, I can’t. It’s as if I’m programmed to keep fighting, even in the moments that I want to wave the white flag. Over the years I have learned that this is both a blessing and a giant pain in the ass aspect.

That same night, while getting lost in a carton of Ben & Jerry’s mint cookie ice cream, my mind made its mental list of pros and cons…one definitely out weighing the other.

These next two months, starting from last Sunday to Nov 2nd, will deliver another whirlwind. In these next two months I will be celebrating my baby bros 22nd bday (this Friday). He has gone from a total punk to an amazing man in the last couple of years. I’m so proud of him. My Mom’s and sister’s bdays are also in September, its pretty much bday palooza for the Sabo’s. I myself will be embarking in breaking ties with my current publisher and hopefully finding a new one, a genuine and honest one…fingers crossed. I’ll also be finishing my current manuscript while starting my first fictional story (I’m scared as shit, but also excited). This insane month will end in one word…Epic. As I will be at the Fall Out Boy concert featuring Machine Gun Kelly. I attended the first round of the Mania tour last year so it’s only appropriate that I attend round two.

In October there will be more bdays to celebrate and on the 15th I will go dark, 24 hours of going off of the grid (this day will mark 11 years since my Popee passed). Then Halloween will spook it’s way in. I do love spooks.

Two days after all Hallows day flys in and out will mark my bday. Yep, on November 2nd I will be turning 34…holy shit. It’s not the number that causes me to momentarily stop breathing, it’s the thought of “how have I made it this far?”. From the kid who wasn’t supposed to live past the age of 14 to attempting suicide at the age of 17. At 22 (two weeks before my 23rd bday) I lost my Popee to cancer. That next year I was so angry, sad…I stopped eating and found myself at rock bottom, again. At 26 I met a guy that I thought was “the one” only to realize that I was involved with a villain portraying a nice guy facade. One toxic relationship. At 28 I became sick with Bronchitis, 4 months of constantly praying “kill me now. Seriously, I’m ready”. Then at the age of 29, two months before turning the big 30, I found out that I was sick, to the point of literally baffling the doctors as to how I was still alive. Mind numbing terms were being thrown at me, “heart attack, organs shutting down, transfusions, hospital”. No good news exists before you’ve had your morning coffee. After that appointment, I found myself on the side of the car in a Denny’s parking lot fearing death for the first time in my life.

And here I am, two weeks from that mind numbing day of believing that I was finished…here I am, two months away from out living that original death statistic by 20 years. Like I said…

2 months…holy shit.

If I can live through this, I can do anything… -Fall Out Boy

White Flag…

So, the past few months I have been distant from friends, social media and the world in general. The publisher that my book is under has dropped the ball when promoting my book. Everything they said that their company does hasn’t been happening. I have been given the run around, it has been frustrating. The blog tours and promotional posts have been from companies outside of the publisher I’m with. I came to a point in this whole process where I had to make a decision, take it into my own hands or give up. As my Dad says, “Sabos never give up”. It has been stressful and overwhelming. Moments of depression have hit. My anxiety has been a rollercoaster, days where it’s manageable and days where I just want to escape. I know it’s worth it in the end. I just wanted to apologize if I seem off, because I have been.

When everyone you thought you knew deserts your fight, I’ll go with you…you’re facing down a dark hall, I’ll grab my light and go with you… -Twenty One Pilots

Future Snippet

Here is a snippet, a letter from Dear You. A message to my present and future self. If you wrote a letter to your future self what would you tell yourself? What would you hope for? I hope you’re all having a wonderful night or morning. 🤘💛

**Damn girl! How in the world did we survive the hurricane that’s been our life? “Everything happens for a reason” has aided in the frustration and insanity that’s clouded the path. Music has been the morphine drip numbing the violent vibrations pounding through our mind. Writing has been the escape route taken when running forward every time we’ve murdered our past. Friends have band-aided small cuts and wounds. Family has been our solid shoulder to shed each black tear, created milestones of happiness and the warm embrace that’s comforted our heart. And “he” has been the calm that’s silenced the storm within (even though he doesn’t know it).

This frozen moment is picturesque, strokes of brilliance beautifully framed for all the world to see.

Guarded we remain and that’s ok because the walls represent that trust is a privilege earned not just freely handed out or bought. Our heart is still under lock and key, but that’s ok too because its stitched strength is reserved for the one who deserves its goldenness. Its scars remind us that we will no longer blindly jump into just anyone’s arms. Despite these necessary glitches, we’re doing just fine (no I don’t mean freaked out, insecure, neurotic and emotional).

“ I don’t have the right name or the right looks, but I have twice the heart…”. -Fall Out Boy

30 years young, and I must say that you’ve never looked so beautiful. You’ve become a force that wakes up every morning, ready to take on the day and every curve ball that may be thrown your way. As for the future, I can’t predict what storms may come, I can’t reveal if love will kiss your forehead, I can’t have loose lips if your story will ever be shared with the world (depending on someone’s assistance is a sticky wicket because you’re now counting on someone to have the courage to take a chance on a nobody). But, I can spill the secret that the past’s ashes will forever reside six feet under, never to darken your starry night.

“Burn everything you love then burn the ashes…”

-Fall Out Boy

The only advice that I shall pay you off with is never ever hinder who you are, under any circumstances should you fold. Life only gives you a single game. So, shuffle the deck… Grasp the hand you’ve been dealt… Shut your eyes… Take a breath… And play those Aces…**

24 Hours

Once in a while you wake up and realize that your only obligation to society, to the world is to pause your life and stay in. The only task invisibly written in your planner is to take care of you.

Do whatever it is that’s going to allow you to clear your mind…to breathe.

Today was that day for myself. Last night was rough…the current events in my life has placed my mind racing at 180 mph, sleep downgraded from a few hours to zero hours and my stomach was in knots.

Stress is as much a monster as Anxiety.

Today my phone was silenced and only check a couple of times just in case…today I made comfort food, enjoyed every bite…today I sipped on an iced coffee, sweet liquid caramel crack 😉.

Today I indulged in a few episodes of Gilmore Girls while jotting down a few thoughts and next moves…today I took care of me.

Sometimes you need to just pause life…24 hrs for you.

Rollin’ with the Big Dogs

Well, it’s an eye opening experience. My first time rolling with the big dogs and what I’ve learned is that there are those who still think that they can screw over the newbies.

Last year a major publishing company signed with me and I thought that I was at the starting line of an amazing adventure in publishing and promoting my memoir.

I knew that selling my life’s story would be challenging, the memoir genre isn’t everyone’s cup of tea. So when this publisher sent me a contract I was over the moon happy. I was sent a contributory contract, which I completely understood why they offered it. They’re taking a chance on a nobody. I read the contract over, took some time to process my thoughts then moved forward.

Long, frustrating story short…the different editors, marketing personnel and accounting personnel I have been dealing with since last July has been nothing other than a giant stressful mess. One sided emails on my side, short cut off responses (it is like they give me just enough info to shut me up for a while, but without ever replying with actual updates or information). The services that were supposed to be provided by them in promoting my book hasn’t been provided, I have paid for outside promotional services and blog tours as well as posting on my own social media.

This is in no way me bitching, this is me feeling duped and fed up with lies, empty promises and the big dogs screwing with the newbies.

I am usually the one to bite my tongue, but my tongue is scarred enough from complaining it in the past. Not this time. I’m tired of being taken advantage of, tired of those that think I’m some dumb chick whom they can ignore. Certain emails will be sent out in the next couple of days, professional and factual, but sent.

While I’m stressing over the fact of starting the query process for sending out my new manuscript all over again, I welcome that stress rather than dealing with these snakes. I’ve already gone to the grocery store and stocked up on ice cream.

These big dogs have messed with the wrong misfit.

My Dad has two sayings…

“Sabos never give up.”

And my personal favorite…

“If you’re going to roll with the big dogs then you’ve gotta learn to shit in the tall grass.”