what speaks louder...

*ds* and *ks*, two of the three people that adopted me into their family last year when i changed my name, are very fucked up people. i already knew this, way back when i first got to know them. i'm fucked up, too. i never let how fucked up a person is get in the way of my opinion of them. after all, if i did that, i'd be guilty of hypocrisy, now wouldn't i?

in spite of their fucked-upness, i actually grew to love and trust them very much. so much so, actually, that i took their last name. i take family very seriously, actually, especially after Delena's Summer of Funky Kali Love, when people undoubtedly proved if they were my family, or if they were pretenders.

i'm a fucking hero when it comes to family, and i know it.

well, my chosen family has decided to live with their hangups, act upon them, and then blame me when shit hits the fan. we had a huge fight yesterday, and it all began because i wrote a calm, reasonable email stating my anger at a certain event, and pointing out the hypocrisy, double-standard, and inconsiderate behavior. i was so consistent, actually, that i felt like a broken record.

my fucked up adopted brother, *ks*, decided to get massively defensive and hostile. well, i have changed so much that i do not back down from someone growling at me. however, i've also changed so much that i won't go fucking homicidal (figuratively speaking, of course!) on them, either. i will meet force with equal force. i'm smarter, i'm older, i'm meaner. i have the truth on my side.

i will win. i might not always have, but i always will.

of course, by the end of the fight, *ds* was doing her "oh, i'm losing my mind, i can't handle this, oh poor me, poor me" routine. i can understand anxiety attacks. i really can. i lived like that for years. they're overwhelming.

...but i also know when it's time to stop using them as a convenient crutch and playing the victim.

they're both in love with their victim/martyr roles. they're both in love with the "us against the world" mentality they've had for years. they're in love with the "you don't know what i've been through, you don't know what's going on, so back the fuck off because you don't know shit" line. and all of us are standing back, watching this, and wondering when they're going to stop being fucktards.

i know i used to do that, too. it stemmed from the fear i have, where i'm ten years old again, cornered in the kitchen, sobbing my eyes out while my father stands over me, hitting me and shouting and scaring the absolute crap out of me. every time he did that, i thought he was going to kill me. any time anyone exerted even the smallest bit of authority over me, i subconsciously gave them that power to put me in that corner again. that fear, that panic, i felt at the smallest possibility that someone was angry with me, or there was a problem that might be my fault, or anything like that, and that fear would come back. that this time they would beat me and yell at me until i died.

one year the fear was so bad, i would unplug my phone for weeks at a time, and a friend later told me i didn't set foot outside my apartment with big *c* for a full six months.

so believe me when i say i understand those sorts of hysterical panic attacks. but there comes a time when it becomes an excuse, a crutch, and a destructive force in one's life. instead of being a true disability, it's a symptom of the larger picture, which i have tried to impart to them, but i was told that i don't know shit, and that i'm the destructive force. that i throw bitch fits and wreak havoc on their peaceful little lives.

i've demonstrated my changes. i've made very clear my desire to change and willingness to do the work. with willow and richard finally out of my life and not telling me what to do and how to think, i can now discover god for myself --what i call by a myriad of names-- and become the pronoiac, revolutionary freedom fighter for beauty, truth, and finding the funk that i know i am inside.

through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered, i've funked my way here. i know who my friends are, who my family is, and who is nothing but an obstacle to conquer with kindness. the obstacle IS the path, and the only way to kill the apocalypse is with love. funky, groovy kali love. that's why i have this blog, why iGoddess even exists.

iGoddess is how i keep myself accountable. all of you, my lovely and funkalicious readers, help to keep me accountable to my path to pronoia, to growth and the funky jive. if i get lazy, or slip back into old habits, i know dizzy, and greggo, and maybe even a few others, will remind me that i'm better than that. when i avoid iGoddess, i receive wonderful comments and emails about how they can't wait until i return to iGoddess, and they hope iGoddess is not gone forever.

if nothing else, it reminds me that it's a process, a path, ongoing and ever-adventurous. it's not a project to complete and put away. and changes are not only visible to those with whom you live. true changes are apparent to the world, and made manifest by the changes that happen in your quality of life as a result. they're obvious to anyone who looks at you. and to those who knew you before, when you were still in your funky-larva stage, it will be as obvious as the brightest bonfire lit atop the highest hill on the clearest night of the year.

i know my bonfire's roaring. i hope they can light a match. otherwise, it'll be kind of sad if i end up the only real member of the family they began, living by the tenets they themselves can't come close to demonstrating. on the other hand, it's fine with me. i know who i am. and i'm also still the daughter of a wonderful set of parents only forty minutes away from my wonderful home.

dang. sometimes my bonfire's so bright, it blinds even me.