Burning More Bridges Than China Builds…

Day 4. Freewriting. Setting boundaries and saying NO to situations that compromise my well being.

Death is on my mind. It seems to be all around. Professional death… Physical death… Spiritual death… I guess spiritual death is related to mental wellness (my current obsession) so it kind of comes full circle… Everything in extremes. Or is it opposites?

Yesterday, I received an email from a family member asking for help. My heart immediately jumped up with wanting to help but helping means that I need to deal with one of the most toxic humans in the world. She burns more bridges than China builds and literally causes me to have diarrhea (sorry, TMI?). The family member asking for me to run a fundraising campaign. I’d love to help but I have a massive issue raising money for people until I know how the money is going to be used. We connect, I politely decline the fundraiser but instead offer viable solutions. I’m thanked for being frank. No harm caused. Things are good.

Here in lies the problem. In about 3 days, this act of kindness will get back to other members of my family and I will be berated for something. Preparing for curveballs is a talent. Keeping a thick skin is another. Curveballs is still a polished skill… the thick skin, I’m still healing so that’s iffy…at best. I’m pretty good planning for the worst and hoping for the best. So my mental prep starts. Helping this family member will most likely be turned into a bargaining chip of “Jess is talking to me, when was the last time she spoke with you” and then all hell will break loose. My mommabear might get an abusive phone call demanding to know where I’m ‘hiding out’ or I’ll get another email from a different family member calling me a failure and that I need to stop thrashing through life as if others owe me anything. (Ironic part is the ONLY thing I’ve asked family for is respect and the occasional time. That’s too tall of an ask, obviously). I’ll be looking over my shoulder to see if there is a familiar car driving down the street to satisfy the ‘need to know WHERE I am’. Previously I’d switch up my routine, maybe hideout, maybe feed various people different stories on where I actually am and wait to see which story comes back. This is how I spent years identifying the moles. The best part about my family is their inability to control themselves so the truth always comes out faster than I can say GO FUCK YOURSELF. Sad that my life operates like this. Or should I say OPERATED like this. Sometimes, I wish I was making it up but if I’m being brutally honest with myself, I should have a PhD in fuckery. Can I start an online called FUCKERY? I wonder how many I’d enroll. Maybe I’m onto something. At least, that will be a chapter in my book on Mental Wellness, Fuckery. Thank you fam, you are still giving me gems! Either the bridge-burner will leverage the fact the helped to ‘guilt’ other members of my family to also help. My family is filled with a lot of bark – seems the preferred emotional state to be in is anger. I would say that I’m worrying about nothing but give is a week and see if my morning

I digress. What was I talking about?! … … … Jess has found herself. It was so nice to just have 2 weeks (maybe 3) to deal with mass fuckery at any given moment and then jump on a plane and get back into Jess world. I like to put as much physical space between me and troublemakers as possible. For the people that claim that I’m aggressive, it’s assertive to defend myself. For the people that claim that I am in fight mode, wrong again, I get on a plane, land on a pretty beach and dig my toes in the sand laughing because you cannot harm me.

I’ve challenged myself to confront my suppressed emotions and see what happens when I’m in close proximity to the monsters. So far, so good. I’ve had a few bumps along the way but I’m expected to stumble when learning something new. Fall down 7, get up 8. My tolerance for fuckery outside of family is pretty much non-existent at the moment. If I even think you were offensive in your thoughts, consider yourself lucky I removed you without smacking you upside the head or taking a steel bat to your knee caps. According to people in my family, I’m unstable enough to execute on the bat theory. But is that their reality or mine? Would I harm others? Clever people could easily identify my abusers and last I checked, they are all still walking. Or are they? Your guess is as good as mine. If I could be held accountable for the harsh things I think about doing to a handful of people, I’d be in a more reasonable type of prison.

My family is filled with a lot of bark – seems the preferred emotional state to be in is anger. Sometimes I think that’s the only emotional state people live in. That’s probably why when I shed tears or talk about my feelings, I’m called bi-polar. Or when I ask people to use loving or kind words then I’m called controlling. Or my newest favourite is pushing back to outline the unresolved hurt with actual examples, I’m called having a negative mindset. I think it’s odd that of all the people in the entire world, the ONLY ones that have anything terrible to say about me are guys I refuse to sleep with or people scared I’m going to rip off their masks and expose them. The venom is fatal. I used to be immune. The last few years, a slightly different story. But that’s why I’m focused on cleansing my juju. Jess, stop worrying about things until they happen. Be present. This muscle is so weak that planning for the worst has meant survival for over a decade so ‘be present’ is not an easy ask.

I would say that I’m worrying about nothing but I’ll check my morning freewrite in a week to see what my subconscious mind is still obsessing about…

* * *

I don’t do fundraising. Tell me your problem, I’ll offer a non-monetary solution. This is applied to all sides of my life. I had the pleasure to advise for a handful of start-ups. Some were better than others. All provided some sort of eye-opening experience. I had the ones that offered me CMO positions as long as I invested $100k. (seems legit right?!). I had others that flew me to different countries to stay in Air B’n’B as their MatchMaker but then drag my good name in the mud and refuse to pay me. I had others that squeezed my mind for ideas then went direct. And then my favourite that ‘borrowed’ ideas only to hire ‘cheaper versions in-house to implement. People like this crack me up and also make me stronger. Admittedly, too much of this behaviour caused me to dissolve my company but it wasn’t out of defeat, it was self-preservation as I had ZERO intention to continue to surround myself with such soulless masses. Yes, the non-family fuckery had to be squashed, for my personal well being. I have zero regrets! I had one heck of a run as a small business owner focused on partnerships! I’m still an idea generator and makes me laugh when the same people whom did me wrong come back asking for something. Might take a while but they come back, more times than not. They bank on my short memory. The secret to a happy life is a short memory… who said that? Smart individual. I think it should be taken a step further. Happiness is overrated. The best stories come from the hardest lesson. The most growth comes from an inarguably difficult person. The biggest success is typically achieved in spite of someone.

Maybe that’s just how I roll… My growth years might be called Emotional Kung Fu. Transforming something negative into something positive is kind of energy. It’s kind of movement. It’s kind of an art form.

What was my point? Burning more bridges than China builds… maybe it is time for island living.

I identified 2 chapter titles in this freewriting session. See, I ALWAYS win! hahahahahaahhahahahahaha

Cheers to … Fuckery.

Cheers to … Emotional Kung Fu.

Published by Jessica Corvo

Health Coach. Mental Wellness Advocate. Ironman. Global Nomad. Warrior of Love.

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