The Trauma Saga Part 2: Chris

“I knew deep down the reason I suffer was because I was a psychotic master of disaster in my younger years. I was empty within, turning up the misery so I could be more hollow.”


With just a black world and one look, he shook.

The heavens all adored him, and they blessed him.
Simply a look… can break…. your heart
I tried so hard, and died
We yelled and swore
I cried, I died
And then I lived.
This is who I really am inside.

The Chris Shuffle (Dedication to Saki)

Dearest Auntie,

This this is for you. I live for your applause. For the way that you cheer and scream for me. The way you show me how to be happy because you loved me like no one ever really has before. And ever since we met, we hold on to each other.

Just two powerful, pained souls that found God in each other. In the shelter, the actual one and each others! And, I mean, sometimes you will message me, out of nowhere, and I know it’s actually a sign- from somewhere beyond. Beyond. Beyond hate and fear and sadness and all that has held us down.

Do you remember??… That Sunday when you came to get me, well rescue, me from the Frozen loneliness out in the woods in my hand-made hut behind the church? And I knew I was alive that day. (I’m starting to cry now) I just saw your sparkly, blackhat, and I couldn’t even feel my own limbs, because you know I almost froze to death the night before that blessed morning came.

And I was so stricken with anxiety trying to get ready to go and worship God with you in church that day like we did before I fell to emotional contagion. I just… Can’t express it. What you mean to me..

I will never forget that day.

I I thought I was going to die within a week… I mean look at this —–>

This was the spot! I was so lost I was planning to die. I was just going to OD on purpose because I couldn’t take it anymore. Until you showed up and I remembered that I was barely hanging on. And I just relived that moment, just now, and tears are still pouring out dropping down to the paper all over the place.

And I never wipe my tears away when they are from God or someone I truly love. And they’re starting to burn so then I wipe them away. They are happy, healing tears. And I’m not frozen anymore. I came alive that day, packed up all my mounds of things that were in my camp. I was not going to live in that little wooden hut anymore from that day on. Because you Loved me. Because of that I picked myself up, I was able to get up, rebirth myself and I turned the world on it’s head. I won’t forget you, either. That’s why I’m writing this.

My auntie you’re my mama. My friend. I tell myself, when I’m losing my way, oh, I say… Don’t forget, don’t forget. Don’t forget what my mama said.

“People talkin’ since the beginning of time, unless they paying your bills, pay them b****** no mind. And if I fly or if I fall least I can say I gave it all.”

And then, we fly. We fly like a bird oh, watch our tears as they dry. We have a little poem in my family it goes:

~I wish I were a bird

I wish I were a duck

I fly around the beach

And watch the people f***

[Hold hands]

Well, you know, Auntie. Haha. That is just us being us. One holy Union. Two peas in a pod, I pity the pod. Just kidding we are best friends. We take each other for the worst and best, we take each other for our problems not in spite of them. We literally watched each other die at the HRC. We didn’t know who we were some days. We lost each other, once, just once. That was enough to know that wasn’t an option.

Wellnwe had and still have each other, and always will. So I put on Lady Gaga- Applause. That’s the song she dedicates to her amazing little monster fans. And I turn it up way loud and do my performance dance in secret Peace. I just do the Chris shuffle, shuffling past heads like they weren’t even there.

Just dancing again. I never dance or sing or laugh or cry or barely even smile anymore. I’m NOT fully healed yet, it takes a lot of time. But I’m getting there. And after 3 brutal Days of emotional upheaval, basically crying non-stop, today it stopped. I feel happy again.

Then you messaged me. And we talked and I danced while using voice-to-text to message you. Throwing my hands up and down and all around. And I remembered putting on my performances at that place everyday. When we were together, I COULD dance everyday. We are family. That’s all I’ve ever wanted and all I’ve never had. Until now. Since day one, we were one. Unified diversity functioning as one body.

Just 2 peas in a pod full of God’s pennies and brand new furniture.

You know, that’s a secret message we share. .

Here I go, shuffle time.

Living for you and me and God who has and is giving us a new family.

A new life.

I love you.

Can I ask for help ever again?

Can you follow me out to the water, so I can show you we’re sinking deeper. Let me know cuz I’m drowning for you. To Oblivion.

From now on… My thoughts be bloody or nothing worse. To Oblivion with me. Sweet Oblivion, open your arms! Stop f****** apologizing for anyting. From this day, everything is someone else’s fault. You want to be somebody and matter? Then make the world wrong.

Sometimes, it can be a hard decision whether or not you can make a life in the world, at least for me. Like, a real and good life with her own family to just be alive and be there for each other and to love each other. Always. No matter who you are or what you do, I’m probably going to believe that I’m not worth your time. I’ll convince you! I haven’t tears enough to show you that I love you or that I don’t love myself or my life at times. What do you do when you have no idea how to start reaching out for help when you are almost certain that in the short time you won’t have any interest in ever getting better? only because you have self-diagnosed so much and you have been through every single soul-killing trauma and every single mental illness, and addiction, and deficit that it lives deep down in you and will never leave you well enough alone. You just started to lose your laughter, your smile, your beauty, your light. That may be true, but not to anyone but you

Why? Why hate? He is just what led you here and now you oscillate back and forth between two polar extremes, you have dual personality, you feel like Jean grey and the Phoenix. and you feel like you won’t ever be full and complete on the inside because there’s just not enough to keep you from hating yourself and wanting to be overdramatic about it. You feel like you want to die often oh, and you can’t kill yourself, and you don’t want to be different than you are right now. Ever! You want to be who you are but your spirit and self are fractured in two or three or four. I know what that feels like. I wanna be worth someone’s time and love and to be held as treasure in their arms every night until you pass away. And I know that I’ve destroyed myself everyday in front of everyone while my other half just hides and hides and never comes out of the shadows. Well I’m coming out of the shadows now.

Can someone really trust that they have the skills to be alive and to pay the bills? Can’t you just go back in time right now and keep all the knowledge you have too and get a second chance? I’m trying to lately and yeah… It’s not really the answer. so you have to keep yourself afloat by telling other people that their lives matter constantly because you were in their shoes and they wonder how you survived the bottom. Is someone like me just a problem or a minnis for a lost cause? Or can someone like me just hang on to my life for better or worse knowing but not a single good amount of quality-of-life in that life exists. can I really just be alone forever and be unloved and unseen so that I don’t have my pain and then try to take your pain too, and his pain in her pain and that birds pain and just take all the pain in the world away and they could hide forever in the shadows instead so you can come out and live for once?

Can I be a writer or counselor or artist or an inspirational token when I have something that no one can explain or understand or identify? I want to be happy one day. I want to be able to have a relationship with someone that is reciprocal an equal. I don’t want to feel so f****** low and lonely and lost and loveless. I want to fly into your son in the pain will just make me numb. and I can live in love and watch my life decline slowly and steadily and naturally.

Can I ask anyone for help ever again? can I be so strong that I just have to change my self-loathing and stop obliviating myself all the time. Can we all just be good and bad and not end up in a constant loop of death and rebirth while we’re actually alive the whole time. And finally, can a miracle medicine take away that hold that’s inside me? And will I ever be able to drive and own a car in the house and pay my damn cell phone bill on time again?

I want better for myself for all of us. So that I can help myself and be able to help someone else he’s just fell into the same hole that I was living in forever. Can we heal and mend and get back our light? There are so many of us and it’s going to be a pain in the ass, but it will be so worth it when we feel better about everything and we have enough confidence to stand up and face people and not be afraid that they will lose interest in us because we felt like walkin talkin tragedies for so long. You think your star will just open up and be a wound- the wound of being too intense. For anyone. Ever. With hope and love I say yes yes I can in fact. Thank you. Next! I’m hell-bent on educating myself about who and what I am, so extremely so that is like the pit in the pendulum. if I’m not careful and precise and surgical about every moment, I could box backwards into eternal darkness… Or even worse, Future shock. I want to exude an energy that will encourage every living entity around me to keep on keepin on. after the find myself to a fault and to make choices that not only to find my goals and priorities purely on what others one.

I can’t save the world, and I wouldn’t dare to. That’s infringing on a higher Powers work. I’m here to be me. To tell you, it’s okay to be yo. It’s okay to be. And don’t fret over those who do not understand you or who are so complacent that they will just tear your house down for scraps to burn in their rampage.

I need always set my priorities straight so that I don’t self-neglect or lose my sense of identity again. I was so lost last year. So I write and search and learn and I explore and I conquer and I save my world. I should, it’s only been me here and it’s always been just me. Not anymore. I should pass all my ways through my intuitive prowess so that my judgments will be accurate in a tune to my cause. and make use of my judgements against my own personal ideas understanding that which one cannot effectively understand or be a judge in.

Take the step

.I’ve been inspired by James, the bipolar mental health blogger on WordPress. It’s creepy how much I relate to every single blog. It’s like I’m drowning in my sickness, my borderline personality has teamed up with agoraphobia, who has made a comeback, and now they aren’t letting me see the outside of my grandmothers back porch. I can barely get outside. Ever. I’m on eggshells all the time. I know my family probably thinks I’m crazy or that I’m on drugs which isn’t at all true. The past few days have been easily blamed on a mental health spiral. Now I made a plan to live.

After 5 months of almost completely uninterrupted isolation, I had to break out. I went to try and go into the front yard from the backyard and I was super on eggshells, watching everything around me while my super extra sensitivity sensors are going haywire and my left eye is doing that hardcore twitch thing. Anyway I was in the yard and it was such a beautiful summer day, I became so disappointed in myself as I started to autopilot run and hide back on the screened-in back porch. I hadn’t even been outside for 5 minutes. It’s  only June so I let myself be a loser, well basket case. So when I swung the door open to show how mad I was at myself and my mental health world, a leaf on the ground, a tiny sliver of an actual full size leaf blue around in a circle from the wind impact of me rushing through the door to hide. And even made a little skitching noise and I just gasped. I wasn’t expecting a horrible leaf to be bullying me around, standing in my way of trying to live and get outside. OMG. I couldn’t believe how scared for a split second I got. I did actually almost jump back and I was like ahhhhh and I faintly gasped when that leaf went a whirlwind it’s just so scary… Nahhh.

That’s what I knew it was time time to get help. I was being mentored during my first few months of being homeless this last time by a guy named Brian, he was the smartest man I’ve ever really known on my sensitivity subject. In fact, when he first added me on Facebook, I was hesitant to accept the request because of his outward appearance. After I accepted, the very first thing he said to me was you remind me of Jesus.

I replied wow that you notice I try to be just like him- Jesus. I walk lowly with my head and eyes on the ground thinking mainly of others and even being martyred for them. So what made me resemble Jesus I asked.

Honesty for 1. Simplicity for another.

Wow I exclaimed, I like talking to you I said.

Two hours later he helped me to learn that after I suffer a traumatic episode or a noise or sound or sense that gives me a flashback, it takes me a very long long time to return to my senses. He told me he suffers a lot, that here on Earth oh, he is a victim. But he often returns to his senses relatively quickly.

Growing up in a traumatic world, I believe, Chris, that you grew up to become naturally inhibition-less. You can’t sense danger physically like most of us can, and after you told me what happened during your childhood, I believe we’re on the right track in the healing process, but being so sensitive and so emotional and so hyper-vigilant, I can guess that for you, to be healed would be like having to live a million years without any pain.

I dedicated the third chapter of my book to him. He told me he knew a lot about writing, he was editing the Bible and he said with authors discipline and hard work, my story can become an acceptable piece of literature.

I honestly think he’s the only person who ever really understood me. And after he read the first chapter of my book he said not knowing the depths of a person after just meeting, he sensed that I was less innocent until he read chapter 1. But he said after reading it and understanding the personal experiences that I shared, he said that I am pretty pure through and through. Then he said shalom.

So I have been writing this memoir of mine for about 2 years now, but I’ve always wanted to start it. During the last year, I suffered a breakdown and unfortunately was homeless after my boyfriend was incarcerated and I couldn’t pay the rent alone  anymore. So this memoir is pretty messy and beaten up, and it’s been through the rain, 4 days of straight rain, and the snow, and the moving 35 times in 6 months. And to show my burning flames of passion and charity, I’m going to upload the entire first part onto my blog.

It’s a story of Hope, and survival, and hopelessness. Damages define our borders, wall and manner are forged in flame. Unknowing little of your wounding we can share The mending all the same

Understanding the unknown secret

Everything is energy and energy flows where attention goes. Tune into yourself and celebrate yourself inside the world that exists in you. It’s the great secret where there is lack of intuition.

This world has taken a nightmare pill. When we open up and live with our hearts, are wants will begin to change. For example not everyone wants a BMW. Not everyone wants the same things and I’m now beginning to answer my calling. To tell the world what I want to say. And I want to tell you about me…

By gaining the power of knowledge that’s at my fingertips, I’m understanding the secret and I found myself, quite by accident, I’m now in fact completely alone in truth.

There are many different levels to talk about this subject. Things like harnessing our energy. Ask a physicist “what created the universe?”

He would say energy. Not that God didn’t create the universe. It’s all energy. Following my passion I will live in a different light. In a different world, moving into a new era within myself. I was born to add value to the world.

The Trauma Saga Part 1 of 13

Chris, I’m so sorry. I don’t know how to cope. I love you though I want you to smile, you can’t anymore. I can’t believe I hurt you so much. I am so broken I can’t keep doing this. I want us to be happy. Maybe I can get another chance but things have to change.



Chapter 1


I am staring into the eyes of a broken, 21 year old tragedy of a human being. His name is James and he has just lost his mother and father at the same time. They didn’t actually die or disappear without a trace, but they have just given up on him. They cannot even face their own son anymore. It’s too painful, too scary, too dangerous.
They were probably a normal middle-upper class family who were once together and happy like everyone wants their family to be. He was adopted in fact so he was an only child, and of course his parents spoiled him. James came to America to be loved and sheltered and make his parents dream of having a child come true. His birthplace was North Korea and he was given up right away at 2 months old, taken in by suitable white parents. I can’t express how much love James was given, by his parents, and by me.
But on this day, October 26th, 2017, a rift has been created and people’s lives and families are being torn asunder every day in front of my eyes. I see these things because my heart has been darkened and though people say it will get better, it doesn’t. Not for everyone, not that I’m a victim or that I want sympathy. But I know that there are some crimes in this world where there are only victims. And that’s what I told James, my boyfriend of almost 2 years who has fucked up so bad he will never be the same and his heart is filled with the same darkness. We have lost our inner child, like Mike and Mary have lost their real child.
James was adopted by Mike and Mary Hane, the nicest, most perfect parents you could imagine. They are good people, they don’t have any of the qualities that James has that make him not so good of a person. As a young child, his parents noticed that something was wrong with James, he was not a normal child. He was more like a problem child. He was kicked out of pre-school, and received over 50 disciplinary slips in Kindergarten. He was anti-social, he couldn’t function like most kids do.
James was an adorable baby, I was captivated by every picture of him, and STILL AM. He reminds me of an angel for some reason. I have a passion for beauty and one particular picture that his father carries in his tattered wallet was just a perfect representation of beauty. In some pictures there’s an emptiness as well. Something that makes liquid pain well up and overflow from my eyes down to my chin. I don’t ever wipe away the tears of torment from you, my love…
Anyhoo, his parents sought treatment immediately and having been in and out of therapy and group homes and jail, he never got any better. He is, in my opinion, a complete soci0path. I knew it was super abusive love we shared so I decided to take a 12-part test for abusive lovers, and it described everything I had been going through with him. He had without a second guess 11 of the 12 signs. He is also the worst kind of drug addict, the “garbage-bin” variety. He will do anything to get high, even prefers things like Benadryl and Nyquil that aren’t necessarily drugs. Cough medicine was his favorite poison and he spent years polluting his body and mind so I really have no sympathy for him as I sit here telling him that I see horrors awaiting him if he doesn’t listen to me and follow my lead. And I mean constant suffering, some call it being broken, but I’m just dead inside.
I’m going to tell you how I have hidden behind a mask for 15 years. My own life has been blown to smithereens and, like James, I was a disturbed child. I lost my parents young as well, they just didn’t want to be parents. I grew up with all the other kids who had broken homes and we all feel lost. It differs from one to another how our lives were altered by things that children shouldn’t have to go through. I have always just wanted someone to hear me, to listen to what I have to say instead of rejecting me and judging me because it’s so horrible. People usually tell me the past is the past and think positive and all that shit, but I know I have barely survived my life because I had hope that one day I would be heard and my story will be known.
If you feel broken and are dying inside, I have witnessed things that are proof that no matter what has happened, you will be okay. I will be okay. But I will not be playing the victim in this story, it may seem like it but I will prove myself to be a survivor. I’m adding a sad fact that a friend of a friend just died from her own hand, and everyone is devastated. They are on facebook saying that THEY are tired of losing people to suicide. Well I for one am tired of wanting to die everyday and having to hide it and stay alive so that other people don’t get sad cause THEY lost someone. But… that’s my life, something that makes me a contrarian so that everyones opinion is against mine. I have no one on my side anymore, but I’m getting off topic. I’m assuring you that everything will be ok, which I never believed and actually it never really was ok, but sharing this message is what I have to do in order to be free.
I’m Chris Allen and I need someone to hear me. My whole life I feel like I’ve been screaming at the top of my lungs but no one can hear a thing. As awful as this story has begun, it IS a story of hope, AND hopelessness. It’s both the good and bad because people have only accepted me when I’m doing good and they kick me to the curb if I’m falling apart. Well I tried again and again for years to write this story, illustrate it because no one else will listen. It’s reaching out with pain to anyone who is there and needs someone to be there. It’s kept me alive the past 15 years making me 29 years old. “Twenty-nine, feeling fine” was the rhyme I picked for my birthday this year, April 28th. I’ve done it the past 4 or 5 years to make my life feel a little bit happier than what it actually is. There was “Twenty-six, pick up sticks” because I was homeless again that year. Then “twenty-seven, tears in heaven” and “twenty-eight, haters hate.” I just think that’s kinda adorbs, right? Please, please listen to my story.
Now I don’t want to begin my story with such negative things and I apologize about spewing this subject matter onto other people. But I want this message inside that has kept me alive for so long to maybe help someone else. I’ve lost 10 actual friends to suicide, countless more to drugs and other people I’ve only heard about. Then Chester… This is for you man.
I choose to live, everyday, and I go about my business loud and proud. I WANT MY STORY TO SHINE SO BRIGHT THAT OTHERS CAN SEE THEIR WAY OUT OF THE DARKNESS. Exactly like I’m telling my broken boyfriend who is sitting in front of me right now. I can do this. YOU can do this. Isn’t that what we all wonder sometimes? I question whether or not I can survive from one day to the next. I just take it one day, per day, at a time. It’s 11:22 pm on a cold Wednesday night in October. I am trying to save myself, or someone or at least help someone with lifesaving information. I just told James a tiny piece of my life, a memory- one day when I was at the most terrible point in my life. I told him I strive every day to do my best at everything because of this memory of a feeling I had before I chose to save my own life. James listened to my pain, he heard me loud and clear, so at least someone CAN hear me, and he completely broke down. Like totally lost, TOTES LOST AF. He couldn’t stop crying so I told him “ok come back now, you feel the pain but don’t live in it!”
I don’t want anyone to feel that overwhelming feeling of pain and loss but it has led me on a journey that has changed me. It forced me to take control of myself, embrace my alter-egos, and fix my life instead of taking it. I know it’s a controversial subject, not well-liked and definitely not adored but its my life- the undisputed truth. I think about that day, the feelings I had when I was agoraphobic but forced onto the streets, homeless while it was snowing with nothing but phobias, tears and a sad story. That shit never got me anywhere but hard work sure did. I learned to just hide the pain, to pretend like I’m ok, to live on nothing, and BE nothing while watching the world function and flourish around me. So I just mimicked others. I would listen to Rhiannon by Stevie Nicks and sleep on the concrete or under playgrounds living on one dry Raman Noodle and time release morphine for the pain. I was homeless on the very streets where I grew up and knew everyone and I had no idea what to do, in shock I just wandered around while people I grew up and their families watched me gypsy around.
I’m not saying I have this unbelievable, mesmerizing story of fantastically profound things, but I believe after being silenced for my whole life, that this story is meant to be heard. That it is as if God Almighty is purifying me through fire and fury while the devil lies in wait around every dark corner of my mind. Do you know what Saints are and what they do? They don’t complain, they simply suffer. I believe some day, enlightened humans will judge angels, that the Saints will rule the world. And upon completing this story, I will know that I am not invisible, I’m not alone, I’m not unwanted or an untouchable from some former caste system. That I survived and the only way I was able to write this story was by the pain I felt every night, alone, again, after “losing” James and all I had left was God. I know that survival is possible even for the most desperate of us. ~

~ Love is not a disease
It is an Infection
Of the heart
Nausea Will Only
Make your
Emotions Vomit
My darling
Machine I am
I always
Will be
And am



James and I have been together every second of everyday since we met at the JCOC Homeless Shelter almost 2 years ago. He’s here with me now as I write this chapter. But we are being destroyed by the forces willingly tearing us apart. Not just addiction, abandonment, the broken system or our mental health issues, but we are not safe, anywhere at anytime. We are like prey, not even safe in our skin, and prone to self-destruction and completely unpredictable behaviorisms. Listen to us. Know that by the time I finish, you will be okay. You will be alive. And we will too.
We love each other SO much, we want people to know that no matter how much they hate us, WE LOVE THEM. That the love will just be inside of us even if the whole world turns against us. Though our parents and all family and friends have been lost, left us or turned away because we are “so much drama and bullshit”, that we don’t need them anymore. We have to do this for ourselves, and that’s all we have at this point. For the moment, just me and James. But only for a while. I know I will be strong enough to live without parents or friends or anything else. But if I lose James, WHEN I lose him, I will be lost and this story will unfold. I have to do whatever it takes to survive. To smile and make nice to get along with the world in everyday life which is a battle, every single moment sometimes.
But I have lived in fear and isolation everyday for the past 2 years, afraid to leave my house, or room, or even my bed sometimes. I can barely look at any of the people around me in my life as I’m going through it. I can remember the series of events that disemboweled me internally, leading me to an awakening. Fear has paralyzed me, completely. But it also awakened me at the same time. I’m hoping to be awakened again and again until the day I die, my victory day that will lead me to peace and rest at last. I want to live in peace NOT rest in peace when I finally die.
I hope someone out there will choose to walk through the fire to get to me on the otherside, which is this very story. There’s beauty and all the fruits of life in these pages. Through the dark to get to the light. Because I was never an island. The end is just another beginning.

Chapter 2

Chris ….

Today as they say was one of those days. But, as I am trying to teach James about conveying yourself in the right light, before you turn dark, no one loves a negativity Nancy. Well unless you fucking learn to love it just like pooping in jail. James is the guy I’m trying to save or rescue I guess, I do that I swoop in and grab the few choice cases I think I can handle. I just want to help!! I think with my own experiences and with the 15 years in and out of therapy and programs and life changes and such, I can maybe save a life! Well another life besides my own.
I never wondered until just now after all those years why I did that. I know it’s insane I always tell my baby if it comes down to it, and you turn against me, I’ll leave your ass in the dust where I found you and you can catch up to me if you can. I say “Two can sink a ship faster than one!” And James is the worst at everything- crime and regular life. I’m sorry Bazey, you just are! But I tell him I’m helping him and it’s a team effort to get bet rescue people because after I broke out of the child sex circus, I turned into a monster and I called myself the destroyer of lives. I have a lot of wickedness to atone for, if God permits me…..

….to be continued…