Marisa

Born and raised in Kenora, Ontario Canada, Marisa was a teen mom who has overcome incredible circumstances in order to provide the best life she can for her small family. Avid reader, blogger and a God-loving Christian, are just a few of the titles Marisa holds. Reading the Word and learning about God and His plans for her life are her current mission.

Time…

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Dec 252018
 

I told you I would break.
I didn’t know when.
The tsunami that was coming finally arrived.
The waves are drowning me.
I don’t know if I survived.

The dripping crimson I don’t regret.
All of this time and I feel nothing yet.
Scars rough and tough unlike my soul.
You are the hole that has no light.
I don’t want to fight when it’s not me that’s alive.

Dec 222018
 

I’ve compiled my top favourite true crime YouTubers that I have enjoyed this past year! Only 8 made the cut as many others are only focused on one case and I think bringing light to as many cases as possible is important! I am subscribed to nearly 100 different channels from family vloggers, to cleaning, makeup and yes, of course, more crime! I may decide to list some of those other channels another day!

Eleanor Neale

Eleanor Neale has an amazing UK accent and most of her videos are true crime narrations. Her accent combined with the stories she tells, and the respect she gives, have made her one of my favourites in 2018!

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Gabulosis

Gabulosis has a series on vintage crimes, especially hollywood starlet types called “Vintage and Vanished”. She always has a new hair color and vlogged for the first time during her Halloween video’s this year! She talks about many unknown to me cases and I love it! Like many others, she also puts in an off-topic video or a different style video once in awhile to lighten the mood and show another side of herself! She does an amazing job and I have no clue why she wasn’t recommended to me sooner!

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Amber Loves Mystery TRUE CRIME

Amber has fairly long videos and really puts a lot of love into every case she covers! She also has posted a couple of vlogs and unboxing videos of products that people who are interested in creepy things would enjoy! She has talked about having some struggles with her health and still manages to upload regularly! She caught my eye with her beautiful backgrounds and soothing voice! I love the variety on her channel!

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Cayleigh Elise

Cayleigh does an amazing job with her series of covered John and Jane Does called “Nameless”, her series “Dark Matters” and tons of other dark topics, including fringe episodes and Subsriber Storytime! If I had one complaint, it would be that she has a lot of Patreon only things, and I can’t afford to join in, but I absolutely respect her for fnding a way to keep the channel up and running and sharing these important messages!

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Georgia Marie

Georgia is another young woman with an amazing accent! She covers a lot of cases from the UK and this makes her videos seem quite new to me as they are often cases that i am not familiar with. However, she also has done the classics, including Jack the Ripper. She uploads every Wednesday for a “Midweek Mystery” and throws in a beauty product or vlog here and there to help lighten the mood and allow her viewers to see other aspects of her life!

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LordanARTS

John Lordan has been someone I’ve been following for several years! He is the ONLY YouTuber I have ever bought merch from! He has several different series on his channel, Brain Scratch -which was birthed by the Elisa Lam case, Case Cracked, where he gives us a story where the case is solved. Searchlight, which highlights missing people; and once in awhile he will toss in a more fringe episode to lighten the mood and peak your interest by something not so dark! He used to do a weekly documentary or movie review as well, but has changed his schedule up and this is no longer in his regular weekly rotation, but he does feature a documentary or movie here and there! John, is one of the only YouTubers I have ever found who has the families of the victims reach out to him and be willing to discuss the cases, adding in an even more personal touch and call to action!

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Shauna Rae

Shauna Rae is another true crime YouTuber who enjoys pulling up lesser-known cases. Her channel is building really nicely and I am excited for her! I don’t know if I have ever even left a comment (I will have to!!) but her information is clearly well researched and she isn’t afraid to look at her notes to make sure she is getting it right! Recently her uploads did slow down as she explained some health issues in a recent video, but I am excited that she is back! Shauna Rae also tosses in some skincare products and q&a’s to lighten the mood, but it is tastefully done and doesn’t take away from the messages of the victims she is representing!

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These are literally in no order other than the way they appeared in my subscription list! I hope you check them out and find someone new to enjoy! If you have are in love with somone, or have your own channel, leave me a comment and I will check them out!

EDIT
I realize there are now only 7 listed. One was removed due to spreading rumours about other YouTubers and tearing people down. I am not about that game and won’t be supporting someone who is! I hope you enjoy my top 7!!

Dec 192018
 

I look down and see the moon
Reaching to the window
I will be close soon.

Grabbed back from that innocently selfish step
I’m wondering why the sky is below
Where am I that it’s all upside down?

Tenderness, pain, and emotion without sound
Living life while begging to die
How am I swimming in the sky?

My faith is real yet I fear I am not
A mass of carbon without any thought
Just one step and it’s do or die.

Why won’t you release the shackles
Please, just let me try
Forever I’ll be yours, here or there.

If it doesn’t work what will you care?
And if I float into the Heavenly abyss
I’ll come to you and tell you what you’ve missed.

Dec 052018
 

I listen real close and I hear words echoing inside myself. I wonder if it’s my own trailing thoughts, or a distorted message that I can’t grasp from the One who created me. He knows I have fallen away from Him. He knows everything. If only I would have got the memo that I would be struggling to stay afloat all of this time later.

Braving the waves can be hard when the water is cold as ice and the tide is pulling you down and out. I admit I haven’t prayed much since my miscarriage. Sure, I have prayed. But not the way I used to. Not from inside the depths of the Word.

I have prayed for children with cancer when asked. I have prayed for friends struggling with their health. I have prayed for car crashes, bus wrecks, murderers, victims and the truth. Yet, I haven’t sat down and humbled myself before the Lord my God.

I haven’t called upon His name and begged that He forgive me, grant me peace. I haven’t asked Him to guide me and each day that passes is another day that I have wandered in darkness.

There have even been days where I have scrolled past the blessings that others have tried to show. I have been envious and even bitter that they are finding joy, when I have found… nothing.

Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are they who mourn, for they will be comforted.
Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the land.
Blessed are they who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be satisfied.
Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy.
Blessed are the clean of heart, for they will see God.
Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.
Blessed are they who are persecuted for the sake of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
~Mathew 5:3-10~

Lord, my spirit has been poor, my heart has been in mourning, my thoughts and behaviour have been meek, I have hungered to be right by you and scared to act, I have shown mercy to those who have hurt me, I am handing you my heart knowing it will be cleansed, I have disconnected from the things that cause division and I have tried to bring peace in Your Holy Name, I have been persecuted for being a Christian, and yet, you tell me I AM blessed!

Dec 032018
 

It has been a good long time since I have put words to the blinking cursor. I don’t know why exactly I stopped writing, or rather, why the words stopped flowing, but I think it has to do with loss.

I just keep losing in this game called life. I keep feeling the slashing pain of being gutted by the insides that are supposed to hold onto life and grow the future. What will the future hold when it cannot manifest within the womb that is meant to nurture it?

What will stem from a society run by people largely created in labs? Where our mothers and fathers spend their life savings just to get us here. Will it go to our heads? Will the race to become superior start and end with that money saved and raised to ensure our creation?

Where is God in all of this? Am I God? Is the Dr. God? Is God really the currency we pay that decides life and death for us?

How much money does someone hand to the God that has stopped the blade from slicing too deep, who has stopped an infection from setting in and who has stopped the blood from flowing out before it was too late? How much was that worth?

Is the currency for the numbness that allows me to bleed just to know I am alive the pain and torture I have experienced? The chain that held me all those nights has become the ties that bind me to the past and the past to me, forever.

I don’t know what it is I want. Or what it is I actually feel. I just know that most of the time I am in a stoic place and the other times my heart is racing out of my chest and my anxiety is through the roof. There is nothing predictable about how I will respond, psychologically or physically, to the same thing twice.

Tonight, I have peace in knowing I am not God. I am not the one with the control. I am simply a piece of the puzzle. I can find comfort in that.

Jun 072018
 

Faking it can be easy.
It can also be the absolute most draining thing one will ever do.

It’s like being an actress through most of my waking hours. Smiling when I am spoken to, being polite, saying everything is great, flirting and doing life, in general, all while there is this demon inside of me, telling me I’ve got to beware.

Beware of the guy who said hello, he could rape you, you are a stupid girl, don’t you know?

I have the scars, inside and out. On my wrist too many to count. I am the pale girl who has had too much sun in an attempt to appear a little more healthy. My eyes are often glistening bright from the tears I hold back, or dark and soulless as I give up the fight.

The house is trashed, and I mean trashed because my motivation is lacking. I look around and see the piles of stuff, the dust and I know it’s a fast job to do but can’t make myself do it. I write the lists and those do help. Seeing the checked off boxes of things seems to be a decent motivator.

My meds keep me overweight, so it’s more than easy for me to pass on food or forget to eat and no one even notices. There are days where I binge and get 2000-3000 calories (can we say pizza?) and there are far more days where I am down in the few hundred range at best. I don’t worry about my weight, it’s just another thing to do. Cooking drains me a ton. Even the easy things. Thinking about what to make is like doing an algebra exam. I try to remember to have a protein shake every day, so at least my body gets that.

I had a flashback earlier today about the house we were in. The basement had a sump-pump and there was a cement ridge built up around it with wood covering it. It always reminded me of a coffin. This morning the nightmare/flashback was based on that hole, only in this daydream, he threw me in and closed the lid. Laying there I wondered how long it would take for them to raise the lid to find my body.

PTSD is real. I die 1000 different ways every single year, all in my head, all in traumatic ways that feel oh so real. Much of the time, when I am startled out of my head, I wish that I hadn’t fought so hard to be the survivor girl, that I would have been better off if I had just not lived.

I’ve always been one to have extremely vivid nightmares and flashes of things while awake. When I was little I wouldn’t sleep because I could hear and feel planes flying overhead and dropping bombs. I remember looking out the window one day and panicking when I saw Saddam Hussein’s face staring back at me, the war hadn’t even begun and I am in Canada, and more importantly, no one was even there, just the sunshine.

Once I was held and raped and used and sold, all of those things became even worse, more intense. Because then I realized that evil really did exist. That it was alive and well. That I could be a victim, because I was a victim, and the victim still lives inside of me with extreme guilt. With intense fear and with a logic that doesn’t make sense to anyone but me.

I take a half dozen different prescribed meds and they take the edge off, but they don’t make it go away. I spent years in therapy and eventually had to quit going, the anxiety of having to bring the negative thoughts up each week was just as bad as keeping them inside. The last time I went, I left and cut my wrist in the parking lot. And, I had a great therapist whom I loved. I was ashamed.

My reports say that I am a masochist, among other things. I don’t argue with that at all. When you are taken at 15 and enter into an abusive situation with no escape, it is easy for you to become accustomed to being punished. When I feel like I have hurt someone, or I am useless or no good, the masochist comes out big time and demands the pain. I need it in order to know I am alive.

“And I don’t want the world to see me
‘Cause I don’t think that they’d understand
When everything’s meant to be broken
I just want you to know who I am
And you can’t fight the tears that ain’t coming
Or the moment of truth in your lies
When everything feels like the movies
Yeah you bleed just to know you’re alive”

~Iris, Goo Goo Dolls

 

Jun 062018
 

Panic attacks have been progressively getting worse. The past comes back and haunts me in the weirdest places. I think I have become a bit of a hermit in a way. My phobias and anxieties over certain things have progressively become worse over the last year or so. I think when I lost the baby I lost more of myself.

The idea of ringing the dr for an appointment causes my heart to speed up, the cracked or broken tooth I have hasn’t been checked out or fixed because I can’t stand the idea of feeling trapped in a clinical setting, even though I’ve known my dentist my entire life. I struggle to even bring my kids, but for them I can do it, because I have too.

Having to go into stores and pick things up or run errands like getting the mail drains me, like a soul sucker drinking me up from a giant straw.

My fight or flight has never left, but I did go a good year or two without cutting myself, now I bare more scars and the mere idea of certain things causes suicidal thoughts to flash into my head as the way out of something as simple as running an errand.

Mom helps me a ton. She is the one who goes places with me and while I can still force myself, it really drains me until I am sick with migraines and feel like death has already come.

When I got pregnant over a year ago I had stopped several of my medications and was handling things “okay”, not great, not even perfect, but “okay”. I thought I could push through, but have realized that pushing through isn’t living life, I am fearing life.

I got up to close the curtains the other night and sheer panic kicked in. I ended up sobbing, hard, until I fell asleep. My fears of things I love dying are extremely high. The idea of any sort of change is paralyzing.

I started two of my meds again yesterday. I know that with them I will be tired, likely to gain weight, and have less spoons to help me through the day. But, without them, I don’t know how much longer I can keep pushing myself through these murky waters.

I often feel like I am in a state of mania, where I am hyper and unstoppable, followed by a depression that keeps me in bed for several days as I recoup that energy that was wastefully spent. I’ve never been one to be balanced. I struggle to even know what happiness is. I see glimpses of it, but I am not familiar with it.

If anything, happiness is an enemy, taunting me about what could have been and never was. I envy it. I loathe it. It is what I am not.

The degenerative disc disease and arthritis in my back, hips and pelvis are a constant reminder of the trauma my body has experience and it’s protesting against, standing, sitting, laying for too long is a painful one. Tylenol will likely kill me before anything else.

In summary, I have been, and I still am, a rancid mess.

 

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