• Rock bottom has long been reached!

    2 Jul 2016
    Truth & Foster Care

    So there is a part of my that wants to write this cheesy poem and pretend that I am a writer, who’s grammatically fluent, when in reality it took me 4 times to write the word “grammatically” correctly. So, just know that I’m human.

    I’m a human with flaws. A human who seems to “can’t get right.” So this is my vent blog post. It’s been long over due. I’ve been as positive as I can be, and rock bottom has long ago been reached.

    My forever family was really  based on condition. I was hit by a car and they were nowhere to be found. When I got home that night from the hospital the doors were locked and the lights were off. I mean who cared, that I was just hit by a car, riding a bike? I eventually became suicidal went to the hospital and was told “don’t come home”! I am a human with a mental illness. I was a black girl with out a home trying to fit in the middle class white world. I was different, and I knew and I feel like an ass because I bought their delusion that I was one of them. Truth be told, I’d probably would have been “one of them”  if it wasn’t for this damn bipolar disorder. Or maybe if they were still getting sent a monthly check, I would have had a longer time sleeping in a bed. My foster mom has this theory or thought that I am supposed to have my shit together. I mean tell me what 24 year old does?

    I have a mental illness that took me out of college for 3 semesters including 2 summers. The only thing that got me through was “hope” as cheesy as it sounds it’s true. I’m angry because I now sleep on the floor with a two blankets while her real children have their own places and one stays home. I’m angry because she lied. My siblings don’t talk to me, my foster father doesn’t talk me. She only keeps in contact with me and I think its out of pity.

    When she kicked me out from the hospital I went to NC, to live with a social worker, whom I thought of as a sister. Who turned out to be abusive emotionally and psychologically. I’m struggling with a job as a Barista that pays 8.50hr. I’m going to school online. My body hurts daily because, when I was kicked out I couldn’t see my doctors, nor start physical therapy. I had medicaid in CT, but in NC I had to buy my own health care. It was a struggle to stay alive. I slaved at home doing laundry and trying to help as much as I could for a women, who would make remarks about hitting me, calling me every thing other thing but my name and I feared I’d be kicked out. I lived in fear and the only time that fear was lifted was when I went to church at Hickory Grove United Methodist Church. My sister (whoever she is) told me I couldn’t be “gay” around her kids. I couldn’t be me.

    I went to the hospital three times for depression and one overdose because I had no one at the point. That’s what my life was showing me. No one wanted me, I was a burden, and a regret. I was a student who just aged out of foster care, with a dream and an illness. I had my name and three suitcases. That’s it!

    The last time I went to the hospital, they wouldn’t release back into my sisters care. I called my grandmother and aunts to try to move back home. My grandmother said I could come live with her, and now I sleep in the living room on the floor. I work 20 hours a week at a vegetarian restaurant and I only eat tuna, and yogurt because that’s all I can afford. My family are meat-eaters and I am allergic to meat not including fish. I make 200$ a week and I’m struggling. I have to start paying rent soon and  I sleep on the floor with two blankets and a pillow. I have slept in a bed in almost a year. I work only 20 hours because my body physically can’t stand for more than 4 hours at a time, and my bipolar disorder has been paired with schizophrenia and it’s a struggle.

    There was a time when I wanted a family, and now I tell you that, I don’t. I’ve only been hurt by people who called me their family.  I’m still in school, and even won another scholarship. So I’m still pressing towards a better future. I’m in recovery when it comes to my illness and working everyday to stay like that. My sister says “I’m dead to her, and to never contact her nor her family again” I have a great therapist and am starting on creating a treatment team for myself.

    I wrote the blog post and titled it “I’ll make it” and I believe it. I will. Things are tough and might stay like this for a while but I will make it. I don’t attend church anymore (that’s another blog–for another day) but I do still believe in God. I wanted to hate God but he gives us freewill. Some people use their will for evil and many for good. It’s not God’s fault, and he has given me many of hints like winning this new scholarship as incentive to keep pushing.

    Pray for me. Pray for this world. Pray for love, peace, and that no one dies without reaching their God given potential.

    Blessings!

     

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  • I’ll make it!

    28 May 2016
    Truth & Foster Care

    My heart hurts. I’m not angry, but I’m hurting. Growing up in foster care, all I wanted was a family to call my own, and to be loved. I asked for a father, mother and sister. I thought I had that, but it was a figment of my imagination. I thought I found the man of my dreams, I did however, I wasn’t the woman of his dreams. I tried to fit in, look the part, and change who I was. All to be loved. Like many my mother wasn’t there nor was my father and I had a distant relationship with my family. I built a family, with people who called me theirs.

    I lost my sister, the one women I looked up to the most. She’s been to every graduation, and I even lived with her. I saw some things at her house I never wish I saw. I saw a side of her, I wish stayed hidden. Today, my heart tore into pieces when I heard the words, “don’t call me anymore”, “you’re never welcomed in my house again”, “I’m no family to you,” “you’re nothing to me.”

    Today, I lost my sister. So I just cried. She called me “little girl” and swore at me. Called me an “ass”. All I could say  back was “I love you”. Her mouth cut like a sword cut, my heart and pierced my soul. How is it with her mouth she once said she loved me, and told other people I was her little sister, then the next said I was nothing.

    My boyfriend cheated on me yesterday. I guess we were never together. I lost him. My mother yet again left me for a man.

    I don’t have many people in my life. I dont have many people I call family. My circle is just getting smaller and smaller.

    We all have to come to a point in our lives when we say come hell or high water, I will make it. If you leave me, and slander my name, I will make it. I can do all thing through Christ who gives me strength. I will make it. With the way my life has turned, I literally was going to kill myself tonight. Why not, I’ve just been dismissed by three people who mean’t the most to me. Who would care? A voice told me I was only a burden, that I did wrong, and that I don’t deserve better.

    All I can say to my self, is I’ll make it! I’m not going to get angry, lose my cool. I’ll cry, but I’m not going to let my ex sister, ex boyfriend, mother NO ONE, stop me from living out my destiny.

    I’m a junior in college, I’m going to graduate with honors. I’m going to get my LCSW. I’m going to get my PhD. I will have my future daughter Copper Estelle, and Zheala Knox. I’m not going to get distracted. I will get married, find the woman of my dreams. I will make it. I can see it. When I close my eyes I see it. I’m not going to die or kill myself. If someone doesn’t want to be a apart of my life, “good bye!”

    My name is Domenia Dickey. I’m a black gender-fluid individual. I’m going to make it! I will make it! I can do it! I will never beg anyone to be in my life anymore. I’ve been hurt enough times. I get one life, and it will be about me completing out the work that God has placed in my life.

    Watch me!

    Stay encouraged to all my readers, keep me in prayer, like I’m praying for you.

     

     

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  • “Do you boo!”

    12 May 2016
    Journal Style!, Topic Thought.

    What do you do when you don’t feel understood? When you open your voice to speak and nothing comes out. Who do you turn to, when all you get are voice mails? What do you do when you look in the mirror and you can’t recognize your own face? Some people expect you to just get “over” the actions of others, and move on. When it’s not that easy. Sometimes shit hurts and you need to cry, it doesn’t just go away-I mean it didn’t “just happen.” What do you say to yourself, when it seems like you can’t get right, and are the Hebrews running around that mountain, and all you need is a GPS? What do you say to yourself when all you want is a little direction, and instead you get criticism? What happens when it feels like a “prayer” isn’t enough?

    What do you do?

    If I say scream, there’s a chance you will be seen as odd. If I say cry, there is a chance you will be seen as depressed, and unstable. If I say walk away, then you’ll be observed as cold-hearted. If I say “do you” then you might just be perceived as an individual with an attitude.

    What do you do?

    Remember that one bible scripture that points out Jesus’s humanity, “Jesus wept.” Remember that within each deity, there was once humanity.

    So, what do you do?

    Cry! Scream! “Boo, do you!”

    Others will always judge you. Not everyone will understand you. Pain is not something you just get over, it’s your journey, and don’t let it hinder you. Don’t let stigma define you, and don’t let trials and tribulations become you. Allow it to become a catalyst and not an end. Use your pain, hurt, fear and everything else as a way to motivate you; to motivate others. Never stop living, achieve your highest goals. If you fall 100 times, at least you got up!

    So, what do you do?

    LIVE!

     

     

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  • How I met God, in a homeless man!

    22 Apr 2016
    Truth & Foster Care

    I was just fired from my job two days ago. I still don’t have a job. I’m living off of 300$ and trying to budget. I’ve cried, I’ve prayed and now I have to take action. So, are you wondering why I was fired? I was fired because as my boss put “its business.”

    I’m a barista, and as a barista you’re expected to fast and efficient. I’m a barista with a secret. That’s not so much a secret. I have a mental illness. I just started this job, I was three days on the job, and, we hit a busy day. That one day I started a new medication and I wasn’t fast enough. It’s the second time that I’ve felt handicap or disabled.

    I explained to him that I needed this job, to pay for my insurance, to pay for medication. “I know, but its business.” I didn’t matter, what I could do for him mattered. The effort I put, the early hours, the job I had quit and one I didn’t take for this one job, it all didn’t matter. “Its business.”

    I felt angry with my self, angry with God. I felt misunderstood, and concerned. Because now I’m choosing between my health and food. I shop at this health food market, and there is this man that sits outside, and ask for help to feed him. He’s homeless. I saw this as a moment to give back to God, even though I was hurting, and my life was uncertain.

    Me: Can I get you something.

    Scooter: A Chicken, from inside the store. A prayer, and conversation.

    I assumed that he was a beggar, and probably on drugs. I judge. Then I remembered I was homeless seven months ago, when my foster parents kicked me out. I had nowhere to go. No one to feed me. Nothing! I was no different from Scooter. No one even stopped to get to know his name. He has two dogs with him, friendly dogs. A woman offered to feed them but not him. When he said, a chicken that cost me 8.11$ could feed them both. He also wanted a prayer, and conversation. Not money, he wasn’t on drugs. He wasn’t picky.

    That was the best 8.11$ I’ve ever spent. I prayed ever since I heard a lecture and asked God, to send me moments where I could be a blessing and do the work he commanded. I didn’t do this for sympathy or for praise; I’ve just realized that there are a lot of homeless people where, if you can’t donate food, money; a prayer and conversation will be just as good. Scooter is jobless, so am I. He has a heart, and a soul. He matters.

    I thought I lost everything. I’ve put my anxiety out there, and am not sure how I can continue to afford my basic needs. All because I have an illness, and a man thought making money was more important. God still gave me enough to share with someone else, to do something greater than myself, and I wanted to tell Scooter that there is good out there and a path is there for him. More than anything, God loves Him. All I said was God Bless you, after our brief conversation.

    Then when I walked away, and looked back he was Gone! There was no way he could have walked that fast. I believe he was my angel to meet, and gave me so much hope and inspiration. I have faith, that God will provide in my time of need, another job will come. I just have to remain faithful, and do my earthly duties. I have three job interviews next week, and I will walk and talk with confidence and pray that the one that’s meant for me, God will open the doors for me. I’ve been blessed with a home, a family and so far mental health treatment. I’ll make it, because God is with me, and will never let me or your fall. I believe that when I talked to Scooted, and gave him the chicken it was a spiritual encounter and I met God in human form. I’m not sure how to explain it. Scooter was my angel and divine encounter. Like the woman in the bible who washed Jesus’s feet with her hair. I was able to feed one of his messengers; and the message was “God be with you!”

    -Domenia Dickey

     

     

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