God Don't Make No Junk

I've decided that I'm going to borrow a friend's mantra which states, "God don't make no junk." God don't make no junk. God don't make no junk. God don't make no junk. I'm reciting this mantra because at 4 in the morning I am up AGAIN not being able to sleep! And when I'm up all night not sleeping my head starts telling me some really narly things; like for instance, you are not enough, there's something wrong with you. You'll be alone forever. No one will ever want you. etc. etc. My head is not my friend right now.

Cut to: I'm sitting lotus-style reciting my mantra when all of sudden I realize, hey, God don't make no junk! It's works! No but seriously, I've been practicing that mantra for quite a few months now and me believing it did not happen over night. It took awhile and as you will see, I go in and out. It takes awhile to undo decades of old tapes. Old mixed tapes made expressly for me by my mom and dad among other people. Suddenly I'm caught in a I Dream of Jeannie dream sequence and I hear the faint voices of demons from long ago. You'll never amount to much, little whore, dirty little girl, no one wants you around, you're a liar, you're getting fat, you're so selfish, sex is love, love is sex...

Cut to: Out of the damned lotus position; my back hurts! (I have degenerative arthritis and when I sit for too long or for that matter, stand too long, walk too long, run too long; I'm in excruciating pain.) Back to my mantra. I wish I had that mantra when I was twelve. When I was twelve I was throwing up my food and starving myself. I thought I was the ugliest little girl who ever lived. I hated myself. I didn't know anything about self-love or healthy self-talk. I just knew that when I threw up my food I felt powerful and a deep relief. When I starved myself I felt in control and free. What can I say? I guess I was doing the best I could do.

Twelve was a pivotal year for me. My life was never the same after that year. Not that I hadn't been in dire straights from as early as I can remember, but that's the year I realized that something was wrong with what was going on. Something was terribly wrong. Do you mean to tell me that not every father and daughter does that?! Say what?! Year twelve is when it all came out; to no avail I might add. Nothing came of it... Nothing changed. It's the year I became bulimic and anorexic. In a way, it was a year of new beginnings. Everything felt new because my eye's had finally opened. I saw things for what they really were. I saw my father for the first time. I saw my mother for the first time. I saw my school counselor, Mrs. Sui, my dad's secretary, for the first time. Nothing was ever the same after that year. I had lost my innocence at the age of three but twelve is when I realized it.

I was forever jaded. I felt so unclean. I felt haggard like an old lady. So for me to start believing that God don't make no junk; even though at this point it's just the tiniest bit, is huge for someone like me. Decades of old baggage that I've been carrying around takes a minute to unload. Know what I mean jellybean? But the funny thing is, I've always believed in love and I've always written love poems. The trick has been learning to love myself. That's the trick...that's no trick at all.