A Simple Game of Trivia Crack

So the other day I started a game and doubted myself to know the answer, only to choose the wrong one and the right one was my original option.

Then it happened a second time.

By the third time, I decided to not question myself and ended up getting 4 of the 6 crowns in one turn. I landed everywhere and only lost when I decided to answer too quickly and didn’t really analyze the question. 

I thought to myself “how silly… Doubting yourself only caused you to fail… Stop second-guessing yourself!. It actually took me longer to say that to myself, than it did to win the game.

Now trivia crack is nothing but a game, so nothing happens except for a little ego bruising and the death of my battery. But how many of us treat life the same? How often do we second-guess ourselves in every aspect of our lives? For YEARS, and I mean YEARS I disnt trust myself to make good decisions. It was so bad that i became completely dependent on what others said about me. My mistakes had created in me an inability to trust anything and everything in me.

It affected my relationship with God, family and everyone around me. And it helped no one, not even me. I wanted to break free so bad but I knew it would cause rupture and I would lost a lot of people I cared about, and possibly all. 

Who do you think is benefiting from doubting yourself?

No one! Not even you! If anything you’re only hurting yourself. Depending on others is telling yourself “you are not to be trusted, you can’t make good decisions, is best to leave your future in the hands of others because you’ve resulted to be unreliable”. How dare you think and speak to yourself like that! And that’s exactly what you’re doing. You’re silencing the voice of God inside of you be trusting the humanity of those around you.

I get it. Your past mistakes, heartaches, disappointments have gotten you there. Been there, done that, planted the flag, got the Tshirt and bought souvenirs on the way back. But you don’t have to.

Depending on others and not trusting yourself is not trusting you, nor trusting God, and it’s not fair to either of you. But you can change that.

 It has taken me so long to get here, but I’m finally in a different head space. Im walking this season alone, not because I don’t have friends I love and care about, not because I’ve decided to part ways with God or my home church. I’m walking alone because it’s time I tell myself “you’re smart, you have God’s wisdom in you, you are loved and saved and creates for greatness. You’re going to mess up and make mistakes and your heart might be broken again. But you have a Dad who loves you beyond all of that, and you can learn to love yourself like that. You can learn to love your mistakes and your flaws and all that makes you YOUnique. This time you won’t fight for others, this time you’re fighting for yourself.”

Fight to love yourself, regain control of your life because only then will you be able to give that control to God. You cannot give what you don’t have. If you’re seeking the approval of others, if you trust their decision-making as opposed to yours, if you’re constantly waiting for others to rescue you, you don’t have control of your life and neither does God. He never intended for you to depend on others to speak into your life. 

He can do it all for you, you only need to trust that He’s working IN, WITH, FOR, and BECAUSE of YOU. 

I can’t believe…

If you wanted to question my decision, the steps back in my progress you took me back on are proof enough to show that thinking of myself is EXACTLY what I need to do. Can’t get over how bad my anxiety got… I want out, and this time I’m not asking, I’m not doubting, it’s happening. It’s sad to see how those who are supposed to help are the ones that hurt you the most. Can’t believe how careless we can be with others’ hearts and minds. And like in court, ignorance is not a form of defense. If you don’t know, don’t try to act like you do.
I just ask that if I’ve ever hurt anyone, made them question themselves and/or affected anyone negatively to forgive me.
Ahhhhhhh can I just scream and go to bed? ?… I feel like I’m back like 6 months ago… Not fair… No bueno… And I need to go to bed and be productive tomorrow. The Holy Spirit is my only hope for a good day tomorrow ?
Oh yea, I guess this is as good as time as ever to let you all know, I’ve suffered with depression and anxiety… And I couldn’t be more certain about God’s love than I am right this minute. He LOVESSSSSS me, and is with me in my struggle. Can’t say that about everyone else, but who needs anyone else when you have God? Not loving this instance but this too shall pass. Just wish it did real quick so I can go enjoy my comfy bed ?

Her Faith

My grandma’s faith confronts mine. She doesn’t have this big ambition towards God. She doesn’t believe in Him hoping to get something great out of Him of their relationship. She finds rest in praying her rosary, believing He listens and somehow that’s enough to soothe all her pain. </p> <p>She’s not trying to preach to the world, save thousands for Him, she just hopes to pray another “Our Father”. She’s not out looking for anointing, or platform, or conversion. She just believes, she has enough mind to ask Him to take away the leg pain that torments her without questioning Him if the pain never goes away. She’s not doubtful, she’s not confronting Him, not scared, just a faithful believer of a God she may not completely understand but fully follows. How lovely, such uninterested, unaltered, unfailing love.

That’s who my grandmother was. What a lesson that is. In a world un satisfied with that is given, asking for more constantly and desiring all it feels it deserves, she was happy with her portion. She belived for more and better, but that didn’t stop her from appreciating what she had at the moment.

My Princess

So I realized I made a huge mistake. I shared the reality of who left without really telling you who she was. See, she wasn’t like any other woman you’ve met. She was old school, but  better. She was like that vintage dress you want to hang in a special casing, have it protected, untouched, but on display because such beauty should be shared without being messed with.

A smoker since her teenage years, grandma got to enjoy the toxic pleasure of cigarettes until the age of about 90 (if I wait until the details arrive we’d be here forever. Yet another negative of living away). She started smoking the non-filtered, less toxic cigarettes. A past smoker myself, I could imagine her  cool demeanor as she smoked, showing off to her younger sisters, cousins, even friends. I can’t say this for sure, but knowing her now I can imagine I have a lot of her characteristics and I would even say we’re pretty similar in personality, character and temper. Therefore, she would have been a magnet, the kind that people are drawn to for no apparent reason, all they knew is that they had to be around her. I could see all that slickness my aunts carry and that sass personified in her. She was a force to be reckoned with, up until her last moment. One of the first signs that it was her time, was the absence of fire in her eyes.

She smoked until she was forced out of her home in order to smoke. Her first great-grandson, Andres Camilo, was born with tons of allergies and one of them was smoke. Therefore the house, where grandma, my cousin Lina and her son lived, could not smell like smoke. So she had to sit on the stairs outside her own apartment in order to enjoy a very bad habit, one that was part of her by that time. She puffed and yelled and made angry faces, but yet every time she wanted a cigarette, she went outside. That’s how she loved, loud and almost against her will, but still loved a lot.

She was both rough and soft, sweet and yet feisty, she would have an opinion about every bit of you and still love you overwhelmingly. I liked her ways so much, I took some pages of her book.

She loved to play “table games”. So my afternoons in her house consisted of dominoes, card games, Parcheesi (parques), “Damas Chinas” (if you know the name in English, help is appreciated). But this transcended to our family times during the holidays, as everything else she did. I remember a game that lasted for over 5 hours of Parques.  Maybe it was around 8 hours of playing JUST ONE game, I forgot who won and I hope it was me. And she was there, from beginning to end, fighting every injustice and giving us some referee-like looks, so you best believe we played on our worst behavior.

She was 98 and for 98 years this world was hers. She had friends and a very active social life. She had a husband who gave her 9 children, 3 of which didn’t make it past days of life. She had one male child who was the apple of her eyes. She had 7 grandchildren and 5 great-grandchildren who added to her joy. She gave life a different aroma, one full of natilla and buñuelos, of festivities and homemade birthday cakes, of colorful dresses and tons of good times, of which the best were right by her side.

Her silver hair was her best accessory, in my eyes. It complemented her, it enhanced her beauty, it made her softer and lovely and so much more feisty. I love every bit of her. And I’ll miss every bit of her, but worst than missing her would have been had I never met her, I wouldn’t have all her wonder to miss.

My Princess

So I realized I made a huge mistake. I shared the reality of who left without really telling you who she was. See, she wasn’t like any other woman you’ve met. She was old school, but  better. She was like that vintage dress you want to hang in a special casing, have it protected, untouched, but on display because such beauty should be shared without being messed with.

A smoker since her teenage years, grandma got to enjoy the toxic pleasure of cigarettes until the age of about 90 (if I wait until the details arrive we’d be here forever. Yet another negative of living away). She started smoking the non-filtered, less toxic cigarettes. A past smoker myself, I could imagine her  cool demeanor as she smoked, showing off to her younger sisters, cousins, even friends. I can’t say this for sure, but knowing her now I can imagine I have a lot of her characteristics and I would even say we’re pretty similar in personality, character and temper. Therefore, she would have been a magnet, the kind that people are drawn to for no apparent reason, all they knew is that they had to be around her. I could see all that slickness my aunts carry and that sass personified in her. She was a force to be reckoned with, up until her last moment. One of the first signs that it was her time, was the absence of fire in her eyes.

She smoked until she was forced out of her home in order to smoke. Her first great-grandson, Andres Camilo, was born with tons of allergies and one of them was smoke. Therefore the house, where grandma, my cousin Lina and her son lived, could not smell like smoke. So she had to sit on the stairs outside her own apartment in order to enjoy a very bad habit, one that was part of her by that time. She puffed and yelled and made angry faces, but yet every time she wanted a cigarette, she went outside. That’s how she loved, loud and almost against her will, but still loved a lot.

She was both rough and soft, sweet and yet feisty, she would have an opinion about every bit of you and still love you overwhelmingly. I liked her ways so much, I took some pages of her book.

She loved to play “table games”. So my afternoons in her house consisted of dominoes, card games, Parcheesi (parques), “Damas Chinas” (if you know the name in English, help is appreciated). But this transcended to our family times during the holidays, as everything else she did. I remember a game that lasted for over 5 hours of Parques.  Maybe it was around 8 hours of playing JUST ONE game, I forgot who won and I hope it was me. And she was there, from beginning to end, fighting every injustice and giving us some referee-like looks, so you best believe we played on our worst behavior.

She was 98 and for 98 years this world was hers. She had friends and a very active social life. She had a husband who gave her 9 children, 3 of which didn’t make it past days of life. She had one male child who was the apple of her eyes. She had 7 grandchildren and 5 great-grandchildren who added to her joy. She gave life a different aroma, one full of natilla and buñuelos, of festivities and homemade birthday cakes, of colorful dresses and tons of good times, of which the best were right by her side.

Her silver hair was her best accessory, in my eyes. It complemented her, it enhanced her beauty, it made her softer and lovely and so much more feisty. I love every bit of her. And I’ll miss every bit of her, but worst than missing her would have been had I never met her, I wouldn’t have all her wonder to miss.

When reality hits

September 20th…

It’s crazy how you think once you’ve achieved what you thought impossible. After a few months of working in my dream company, it just doesn’t seem to hold the same value when compared to family. These past few days have made me think whether or not that dream job is really worth being away from my family, from all those I love. Yea I have a “better” life in Miami, but does a life with more luxury really mean better? I don’t know. I really can’t tell. Grandma wants to go. Health wise she’s better, but her spirit is losing hope, she’s losing strength. Complications come and go. But more of them come than the ones that leave, so it’s a ticking bomb waiting to explode,waving us all as casualties of losing her. It’s inevitable but she’s the glue that holds us together, everyone one of us have some traits of her. We’re alike her in some way, though we’re all so different. We are who we are because of her, she either yelled at us for not eating well, not dressing right, not marrying when it seemed fit. She also overlooked our mess and crazy because she loved us. We’re her biggest treasure, and in her suffering all she wants is to have us ll around her. She wants the bunch s she so asked two days ago. Through her pain, her suffering, her lack of connect, she had enough understanding to ask for us, because she wanted us beside her.

I realize I’ve learned to live without my family and therefore learned not to miss them, but oh how I’ve enjoyed these days. How can I go back and still have them? It makes it hard, the comfort doesn’t make up for the love. I’d stay and let go of everything just to never forget to miss them, to appreciate them, to love them. It’s not the time, but who knows except for God. All I know is that I’m not the same, I’m changing and hopefully for the best