Sixteenth

I fought the devil and

I have cursed the name of God

I ate the flesh and

I drank all the blood I could find

Worshiped the sun when it rose

Denied it when it died

And I've killed lovers just as many times

As they have killed mine

Nobody's gonna save your ass except for you

Went out west only to find

That everyone's the same

Working jobs and getting high

Trying not to go insane

I've killed everything

I've ever done

I have ever tried

I kissed the devil, and I

I spoke the name on high

Nobody's gonna save your ass except for you

Nobody's gonna save your ass except for you

The lyrics above hold a very difficult lesson to learn. From a very young age, I believed I was a princess. The movie A Little Princess ingrained that lesson in me. Every girl is a princess. Unfortunately for me, that belief didn’t evolve with my increasing age. As tragedy befell me and the child abuse began, I still maintained that I was a princess. When bipolar disorder struck me and my medications wreaked havoc on my intellect, when I began to fail at all of the things that were my strengths, I still believed it. I was a princess, and I deserved to be treated as such.

I made excuses. I’m a princess, but a tragic princess. My abusers are the dragons that keep me locked away from my Prince Charming. My failings and flaws are mere quirks that will make me loved all the more.

When I was in therapy at age 15, my therapist - devastatingly handsome man who smelled of sage and cloves - tried to point out the flaw in my thinking. I was ranting and raving one day when he pulled out his phone. 

"Hold on, hold on," he said, flipping open his Samsung. I asked him what he was doing.

"I need to notify NASA. I just found the center of the universe."

That moment has stayed with me over a decade, but unfortunately, the lesson was a little less sticky.

It was a couple weeks ago that I realized something vital and devastating. While the concept of my royalty was completely valid within the intention of Sara Crewe, in typical bipolar fashion I blew it out of proportion and spun it into my own ball of excessive ego. I realized that I do have to work for what I want. I’m not talking about working a 9-5, etc. I’m talking about the effort it takes to CREATE.

I am a writer.  I am a witch. I am a soul that is full of life and I am screaming to reach beyond the limits of my body and touch the stars.

My Tarot of the Day today was XVII The Star. From the Shadowscapes Companion:

 Meaning: Regaining hope, faith in the future, inspiration. Finding the still and silent place within your being of serenity, tranquility amid trouble, harmony, offering without reservations, sharing and being generous. The harshness of daylight or even moonlight is gone, and there is nothing but the calm and nonjudgmental eyes of the stars. There is a peace to that, a space to gather up, prepare, and uplift the spirit. Let loose doubts and fears to the embrace of the night. The stars have always been symbols of guidance and hope, the light to lead you home. 

**Lyrics from Damion Suomi's "Save Your Ass"