the beldam

This was the woman that introduced me to magik by showing me how not to be. Her favorite color was purple and she was a Taurus. She practiced Santeria and liked to work with demons. I know cus I had found books stashed away abt summonings and spells with demons, that looked like they were bought from a rundown spiritual shop in the funny part of town. I feel that she started at a yung age, because her mentality is so...far removed. She always had this vibe that something was running her, everything abt her was so spazzy and pointlessly chaotic. And her hair used to be all. over. the fuhking house. Everywhere. As in, your towels will come out of the dryer covered in her hair. Like I always had to look over my towels and pluck them off before I used them. Strands would be all caught up in dust cobwebs in corners. If you lifted up the couch cushions, it literally looked like someone had gotten a clump of hair and smeared it all over the bottom of it. It was literally everywhere. Every day she wore a black shirt. Her favorite thing to do was talk shit and complain. She never talked about anything interesting, only other ppl, whether it was her friends or celebrities. Everything she did and said revolved around other ppl, usually for the worst. Her opinions never had any valid foundations. She was not very intelligent, and that wouldn't have been such a problem if she didn't stay callin everyone in the house dumbass niggers. She loved to insult anything she could, and I was her favorite target. To her everything was wrong with me. Especially my hair, skin, and body. Especially my intelligence. To the point where even I do not like to lightly throw around insults abt others' intelligence, cus it's just low as fuhk. If I say something like that it's cus I mean it from my gut. Not a day went by without her callin me a dumbass or a dumbass nigger bitch. Some days I tried to keep count of how many times she said nigger, just to make it lighter for the sake of fun, but I always lost count. She made sure my ugly nappy nigger hair stayed short, and took me to get it cut several times. Not that it grew much, because I was constantly living in fight-or-flight mode right after I turned 8. Not feeling safe in the house I was sleeping in had me locked in hard insomnia for years. At one point, every night I prayed I begged to not wake up. And the only thing that could make it make sense to me was that maybe I deserved it. Cus the way I saw it, it was impossible for all that to be happening for no reason. And if everything happens for a reason, then clearly that was something I was supposed to be trapped in, and maybe I had done something major that warranted that as punishment, whether in this life or another, whatever it could have been. Because every bit of her claimed and believed I was a terrible person who was a waste of time, breath, and space. The way life was goin for me, it made me wonder if it was true.

She did magik on all of us, I know for a fact. My dad might have gotten it the worst though. I can feel myself outgrowing it all, and I've come very far. But he...seems, very stuck. It makes it hard to call him because when I talk to him I can feel it all. He's immersed in it. And even in my dreams, he never flows with any of the changes. And it hurts, cus it's like part of me wants to be mad at him for letting her treat me the way she did, but at the same time...I know she made him do it. She had him on puppet strings. But it'll never change how much it hurt that he still chose pussy over his firstborn to begin with. When he could have stopped things, he didn't. I only remember once when he stood up for me to her, one of the many times that she was yelling at me abt smth to do with cleaning the kitchen. I would say I was the house nigga, but they had me doin yard work too.

She was Mexican, but neither her nor her family looked to have any indigenous genes. They all looked white. She was very psychic, I'm sure because of her practices, and she always knew what I was doing at all times. Especially since I wasn't allowed to come out of my room unless it was to go to school or do chores. I was only allowed to read or study. On random days when I got home from school, she'd make me leave my backpack at the door so she could go thru it. My room wasn't really a bedroom, it was a storage room in the garage separate from the rest of the house, with no windows, and it was full. We called it "the back." They just opened up a small space to put the bed, with a lil space in front of it, and my clothes were kept folded up in boxes under the bed. I didn't really have many clothes though, everything I had was from middle school, except for a pack of men's small t-shirts that I got in freshman year. Which I thought was kinda ironic with how much she pressed my dad to press my mom for child support, cus for sure none of it went to me. I wasn't allowed to participate in any extracurricular activities. I was a devout Christian at the time. Funny, cus although I did believe in Jesus, I've always prayed to "God." When I talked to Source, I could always feel its presence, but when I talked to Jesus, I felt nothing. Nevertheless, my best friend was the Creator, cus that was the only one who I felt I and my Life mattered to.

She used to tell me all the time that I wouldn't be able to do shit, that I wouldn't even be able to hold a dishwashing position. She used to say that I was gonna drop out of school and get knocked up, and that the only way I'd be able to do anything for myself wld be by sellin my ass, that that was all I would ever do with my life and all I was good for. She used to say that shit so much. She would tell him I was evil, and that I was the reason their relationship was so terrible because I wanted him and my mom to be together again. Although I wasn't allowed to ever even sit with them in the living room, so it's not like I ever spent time with them; and although my parents divorced when I was still an infant and I don't even remember them ever being together. But my dad believed it all till like the last few years, every last bit of it, just cus she was psychic and practiced magik. And then when the shit happened with my mom's bf, the possibility of her bein right bothered the shit outta me. It made me never wanna be primarily seen as sexual. From then on I made sure my first impression could not be that. I covered up more, started walkin diff so that certain things wldn't be the first thing ppl looked at, kept quiet and out the way, and always tried to be myself as much as possible, so that ppl would primarily know me for my mind and personality, rather than just how I looked. And it did work, but it was only motivated by a fear I held in the back of my mind. It was not very fulfilling. It felt like I was chasing something unattainable.

Crazy, last year my granny told me that when my dad and her met she was a streetwalker on Jensen, where his tattoo shop was. And I had long before found out that she dropped outta hs, just cus she didn't like it or her teachers. Turned out, she had had her son after she had dropped out, and the father had left her, got married, and started a whole nother family. She was literally tryna speak her story over me. Tryna make it be me. And I honestly think it's cus she saw who I Am, and was jealous and wanted to prevent it. That's crazy, cus I don't think she'll ever understand that all the things she did is what made me into who I Am now. She was one of the things that had to happen to make me possible. She tried to destroy me but helped build me.

11 long years. That's why I say I raised myself, because when you are confined to your room by your family, like it's a prison cell, you really lose a sense of family and relationships. Not allowed to go to anyone's house or go outside. Extreme isolation. Like I grew up in prison. And she wished her life on me. That shit's different, to hate your life so much that you wish it on someone. I feel like everything she was was a lesson for me on what NOT to be, because her entire being and existence is just malicious malintent chaos. And when I come across ppl that remind me of her, or who have similar vibes, I keep the fuhk away because No. I refuse.