Cry of the Blackbird Pt. 3

When you’re younger, you never dream of getting to the day where you have to begin to watch any of your loved ones dwindle away. The truth is, you also plow through your own life thinking you’re untouchable. Eating what you want, doing spontaneous things with an indirect carelessness. Never thinking of the later in life consequences that will be waiting. When those days come, they slam into you like a ton of bricks.

I can remember very clearly the seldom good memories that surround my adolescent years. I can tell you with absolution that most every one of them involve my grandparents. They hold such a huge piece of this puzzle that has been my life.

I can hear my grandmother’s laugh. Her incredible sense of humor lit up the entire room every single second she was present, and you absolutely noticed when she wasn’t around. Her immense sense of innocence from the time she grew up in was so humbling, and honestly to us growing up, hilarious. No matter what, she loved people with her whole heart. Even when they treated her unfair or unloving. She was the direct reflection of Christ. She cooked the greatest of meals, and had a perfect medical remedy for any sickness or ailment you were suffering. It was all right there in a medical search book that was almost bigger than she was.

The most fondest of times throughout my life was watching the love between her and my grandfather. 70 years of marriage and not a second of love lost. A type of relationship that will almost die with their generation. Her being 16 when they married, and living of poverty that most people only read about. I’ve heard time and time again, throughout my entire life, the horrors of their starvation, kids left wanting, tears from not knowing what they were going to do, but also the beautiful stories of togetherness, all the way up until the time my grandfather miraculously got the job that would change their life forever. It’s a story for the books. A story for the world. In the most humbling of sorts, and I want to hear it over and over. I hear something new every time that I do. The part that strikes me as rare, and as the realest form of love, is the fact that throughout all of these years of struggles and fear, they never faltered in their love for one another and their family. They never gave up on each other, even when they wanted to.

My grandmother, the great mother of this whole family, went through so much in her life. An alcoholic father, and a detached and seemingly emotionless mother. Yet, when you meet her, she is one of the most selfless, caring, and loving people you will ever meet in your life. She is one of the rarities that go through trauma, struggles and strife, and make it out in the end making the tough decision to not only not let it define her, but also choosing to love all people right where they are. She incredibly chose to love them with an unconditional love and kindness that is immeasurable. No matter what you were going through, she saw through the bad and could always find the good in anyone.

I can look back on an extensive amount of time I took for granted with my grandparents. Beautiful times I simply flushed down the toilet being selfish, being absent, and most of all, being angry in the most evil of ways. The way I spoke to them and the way I treated them and walked all over them is something that haunts me to this day. Being overly passive, they let me walk all over them. And absolutely never gave up on me. They are two that I can say with absolute certainty, that 100% believed in me, and loved me through every very horrible moment up to this very day. They were and are the reason that I learned the very basic of skills that started me out in this world and kept me alive in the hardest of times. Times that someone of such a young age should never have to experience. I credit them for the gift of prayers, protection, and immense amounts of love that at that time, and sometimes even now, I didn’t and don’t understand, and definitely didn’t and don’t feel I deserve. But my grandmother, she is the one that stands out. My best friend, my confidant. The one person I have always ran to when things were crumbling and completely hopeless. Always having the greatest words of encouragement, and never failing to remind me that I was capable of anything and everything in this great big world.

I never, not in a million years, thought that I would watch my grandparents dwindle away to nothing. My grandfather, now 92, is ate up with Parkinson’s disease, shaking and stumbling around, stubbornly, on a walker, and stumbling around like the tin man. He spends all of his days planted on the couch, a prisoner to his body, falling asleep and drooling on himself. I try to reach back in my mind and picture him out in his building tinkering with a new project, perfectly manicuring his perfect yard. Labeling everything, down to the fly-swatter and each lightbulb throughout the house with the date purchased, and/or the first date used. The memories of those days are fading from my memory, and being replaced with these sad days on repeat.

My grandmother, now going to be 87 this month, is just a shell of herself. Dementia tearing away at her entire being. You yearn in each moment with her to reach in and pull out that comforter, to watch her put on her signature red lipstick, to hear her incredibly encouraging words to pick you back up, but instead, each sad moment, current and long ago, playing on repeat in her mind like a skipping record. The recent death of her sister, the recent death of her pastor’s wife, her brother being in horrible health and on a defibrillator. All seeming to bounce around in her mind like a pinball machine and as each one makes its way to the front, she voices it again, as if it’s the first time.

We can’t and shouldn’t tell her any of the sad things anymore. Most in the family are the doing the selfish thing and telling her anyway. Which is the ultimate selfish act. It’s like writing in a diary that reads it back to you. I don’t. I no longer confide in her, or fish for her encouraging words. I cherish the days that they are offered naturally. There is no red lipstick, hair is never brushed, and she is always in the same outfit with the same house robe on top of it. She waddles around, door to door in the house, sitting blankly on the porch. Day in and day out, the same day over again. I want to hold her. I want to tell her everything is going to be ok.

She repeats a story to me. We took care of her mother who had and ultimately passed with Alzheimer’s disease. She has always repeated the same thing to me. I will go any way the Lord wants me to, I just ask him not to take my mind. And now, here it is. The one thing she didn’t want to happen. She still repeats it, even in her deteriorating state, that everyday she prays to hold onto her mind, and that home-health says she is doing great, even though we know she’s not.

I’m sure the black bird’s cry is louder than ever. I yearn to peek into that realm even if for just a moment to see what they’re seeing, to hear what they are hearing, to think what they are thinking, and to feel what they are feeling. But it’s for selfish reasons. If only just to comfort myself on the feeling of having already lost them, or even to understand it a bit better when it’s time for them to fly away swiftly with those waiting on them.

The grass grows up past the sidewalk now. The flowerbeds choked with weeds. Building in the backyard, in the past filled with noise of new projects being completed, now sitting in rot in the overgrown yard. A lonely shrill in the air. A sadness in the waiting and the not knowing. An almost beautiful feeling in thinking that every time you’re there with them, is the last. Teaching you, and forcing you to cherish each and every second of the time spent with the parts of them that are not already gone. For now, the black birds compete with the song of the blue birds, which is a lasting hope I’m holding onto.

I Want To..

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I want to roll in all of the covers that separate our skin.

And I want to relish in each and every moment,

And all of the unknown held within.

This fast-forward motion,

With each day seeming to grow us closer.

This incredible devotion,

This love makes it hard for me to keep my composure.

You tantalize me,

When you aggressively grab my hair.

My body feels so free,

As we give into this laissez faire.

Everything finally feels right,

As we intertwine with every pant.

I want to hold on and grab tight,

Covet every second and breathe in each sweaty chant.

Every stroke of our bodies,

Is so alluring to me.

Forget everything going on, I want to be naughty,

This is serendipity.

Staring down at your dark eyes,

Takes me to another place.

Not scared to strip off my disguise,

And as everything becomes more intense, I want to look right at your face.

Watch me flip my hair back,

As I treat every inch of you how you deserve.

I want you pulled so close to me,

Not missing anything and making sure this is something we preserve.

Even though we’re finished my love,

I want to lay right here on your chest,

And you tell me right now this is kismet,

As your skin presses on my breast.

I want this every day with you,

And I never want it to end.

Keep looking at me today and always,

Never again having to pretend.

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Wade In These Waters -Pt. 2

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I’ve been up and down on finding a whole new level of positivity. This is a whole new journey I am on, and it’s one that did not start off with good news or a positive look for the future.

I would give anything to find my circumnavigation for this nightmare. A way to pull the ultimate trick move and have the final prize be a clean health slate. The ultimate 2nd chance of a lifetime. But this is my reality. I constantly have to remind myself to stay focused mentally. Because right now, unfortunately, if I lose focus for even a few seconds and let the sadness of my health creep in, it will cause such a negative mental health domino effect.

On top of fighting this health battle, I have never felt more worthless than I do currently in my life. I spend all of my time, even when I feel at my worst, waiting on everyone else hand and foot. I am by nature, a natural caregiver. It’s just something I do.

I don’t have a job that pays a paycheck. My life up to this point has been a flop, if I am being completely honest. The only thing I truly have to show for anything I have done in my life, and that I have ever accomplished, is my daughter, who is so incredible, and an incredibly frustrating Criminal Justice degree that did more harm financially in my life than it ever did helping me.

Now that I am not well, I don’t know how I am going to work. I don’t know how I am going to make it. Yesterday, I went to the store to get a rotisserie chicken for dinner and when I got in line to check out, I had forgotten that food stamps (yes I currently have to get food stamps) do not cover hot food from the deli. I then proceeded to have to count $7.00 in change out at the register out of my zip lock bag I had been saving change in, to be able to take the chicken home. Very low moment indeed. It gets better. I then had to drive home, count more change, and go back to the store and pay for tampons and pads with change as well. Because every woman knows that no matter how bad your health already is, your female parts have no boundaries.

I’ve always found a way to make things work. I’ve never felt as though I needed anyone, even when I feel at my most rock bottom times. It’s because I’ve spent the bulk of my life with walls I purposely built around me protecting me.

A lot has changed over the past 5 years however. I really started working on myself and doing a lot of hard work mentally the most. I’ve let more people in than I could have ever dreamed I would have. And in turn, I let people go that had been in my life for what seemed like forever and that I could have never fathomed parting from before. It’s been a trying yet, freeing experience. I have, for the first time ever, began to embrace people and the love that they offer. And I have truly and wholeheartedly learned to love people exactly where they are at. Anyone who knows me knows that I have always been a huge touch-me-not. However, after doing some soul searching, and learning to pick and choose battles in my own life, and with my daughter, who struggles with mental health issues, I learned that some things are just not worth hanging onto. It has taken me years to fully achieve and appreciate the depth of that kind of realization. Now, I love other people’s ability to love. And I have learned to truly love them. Even when it’s hard to.

If I would have known that forgiveness was such a huge cure all for so many things in my life years ago, I could have saved myself so many years of ruination. I’m sure I can get more into that in another entry one day. Most of all, when you get such a life-threatening diagnosis, things you used to think were so important, or pain you had hung onto for so long unwilling to let go of and forgive for, just seems so small now. I am lucky enough to had already been working on forgiveness and loving in my life for a few years now. I had to. If I am being honest, I spent most of my life being so angry. I mean so angry that everything made me angry. I expressed every emotion with anger. And I plowed through years and years, destroying everything in my path. I wish I could go back now. I am free of it. I never, in a million years, would have ever thought I would be able to say it.

Today is one of my bad days as far as my health. In a support group I have recently joined with others who have similar diagnosis’s as mine, they advise that there will be bad days; and that on those days, you should rest so you’ll be prepared to enjoy your next good day. I’m trying. And looking forward to my next good day. I cried today though. I want to walk the driveway. Simple right? No. Not for me, at least not right now. I also cried because I hit a bird on the way taking my daughter to school this morning. I’m honestly quite unpredictable right now lol. But I’m not giving up, and that’s what is most important in my eyes.

I’m fighting for my personal odyssey. My own eventful and adventurous journey. I hope to one day look back and say that I visited this nightmare portion of life, and that it was my sojourn in this time for the greatest of lessons…… humility.

Wade In These Waters -Pt. 1

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Feeling numb in the way that life is going. I feel like my life is a train, but I am stuck on the caboose, and no one is driving it anymore. I feel used up in a way that is so lonely. And I’m fighting every single day to remain optimistic and faith-filled about how I feel about the future. I just simply want what everyone else wants in the end…..hope.

I am closing my eyes, wading into these unknown waters. You can spend years of your life contemplating what you’re gonna do with each portion of it. Then, out of nowhere, you get news that makes you rethink everything. You question how far ahead you should plan, or if you can plan at all as far as career because of your health. Yet, here I wade, deeper and deeper.

There’s a drive in me. I’ve noticed that it comes and goes, depending on my mood. One minute, I’m unstoppable in my mind with what I plan on accomplishing going forward, no matter the obstacle. Then, all of the sudden, I feel brought down to my knees with mourning for my own self. This sadness comes over me and it becomes everything I can do to not just give up.

My lungs feel as though they are turning to stone. As if I turned a corner and stared straight into the eyes of Medusa herself. Or could it be possible that I have became instantly related to the tin-man? Only as a distant cousin, and there is no oiling up for me…

I have been so many different dark and horrible places in my life. However, this is by far the scariest I have ever felt. I try to focus the most on keeping faith and optimism. But unfortunately, I am still a human. I fear and worry.

When you’re a little younger, you think you have all of this time to stop doing the bad things you’re doing and start taking care of yourself. I call it the “I’ll do it tomorrow” mentality. I am only 36, almost 37. That’s quite young. It matters not however. I’ve been diagnosed with stage 3 COPD this past Friday. Specifically, my doctor informs me that if I don’t quit smoking, within months, I’ll be on fulltime oxygen. And I’ll be on a lung transplant list before I am 40.

The feeling that came over me while that doctor was saying these hard facts gave a new definition to shock in my book. It turns out, there is no time to waste. Having the “I’ll do it tomorrow” mentality can be absolutely life or death.

You begin to look back on each and every opportunity that you had to change your ways, or your situation. Even times when you could feel your body beginning to change in a negative way. Yet, you ignored it. Or you think back on the hundreds of times your grandparents lectured you about certain things, but you just rolled your eyes as you searched for the exit door closest to you.

But, I regress. Thinking back doesn’t change where you’re at now. So, you must focus on the hard work ahead of you. You must not dwell on anything negative. Especially those particular things that will absolutely get in the way and hinder the process towards a possible recovery and/or extension of life.

So, I write, as I always have. And I will continue to. Being as raw and open and honest as I possibly can, sharing my progress and even the rawness of things if they get worse, God forbid. And I won’t give up.

Remnants of the Past, Embracing the Now

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I saw clearly the remnants of forgotten cigarette butts in the scattered rocks as we drove through to get that coffee. I was thinking to myself how many years some of those butts have been buried there, long after their victims have been gone. I dig into things and overthink if I’m not careful.

The voices of aggravation on the other end of the speaker from a person just there to do a job so they can pay the light bill that’s been way over-priced since the frigid dropping of the temperatures. Or the teen coming up in age, just working for that extra pocket cash, definitely not wanting to spending it on anything except the material things they feel deprived of. All thrown into one building working and serving the masses.

I feel all of this as I pass through the line, my daughter in the passenger seat. I feel nostalgic. Fully aware of everything in every moment. Extremely grateful for each and every second. Even though we recently had a therapy appointment and have to go back next week because the therapist is concerned for my daughter and is setting her up with psychiatry. Still, I am so grateful. Unable to allow myself to feel anything else because of the chaos that has tried to take me down for so long. I’m on the front lines of a battle like no other. And for anyone who knows me, there have been so many battles up to this moment. They seem like a staple for every chapter that I am constantly trying to break free from.

I am doing today with a smile on my face. Because I choose to. Even through each moment of heaving for air. Because I want every moment. I want every second.

I just swopped places with my daughter and now I watch as she drives. For a moment, I see my little girl. Her little smile. Her giggle. Except for this current version just yelled shit as another car got in her lane. lol. Still, I see her. I remember every single moment. She’s growing up so quickly and I am here for it. She’s 16, and will get her driver’s license in a couple of weeks. 2 years left in school, and the future awaits her.

I want to be there to see the incredible things she is going to do. I want to hold grandbabies, and see that’s mother’s love in her eyes. I want to see her do better than I did. I’ve never been that parent that said, “I hope your child is just like you.” I wish a whole different life for her. I wish peace for her and her children. And every dream come to life.

I’ve also never been that parent who says, “No one will ever love you as much as I do, or the way that I do.” That’s crazy. This world can be incredible. I wish more for her. I pray she finds someone that loves her bigger in ways that are more than a mother’s love can surpass. And I pray that they give her the world she deserves, which is bigger than anything her or I could ever imagine. I’ve tried so hard to work over these mountains so I could be someone she could be proud of and even maybe one day, would want to take a lesson from.

But lately, I have realized that I want her to be completely and totally herself. A whole new chapter. Breaking the cycle of this chaos. She is so incredible and adventurous. That combination in life can be so exciting and limitless. And as her parent, I am excited for all of these adventures.

We took the long way home, stopping too long at stop signs of course. The whole time, I’ve grasped the oh crap bar for my life. Even though in reality, she’s a good driver. And she has always picked up on everything so quickly. I just can’t let go and give control to anyone, and it’s something I am still working on. It’s something that frustrates her greatly.

We arrived home. Spring is in the air and I soaked up every single second of what was left of the daylight on the porch. I could hear my daughter singing in the basement in her room so I snuck to her window and started to sing with her, giggling. I couldn’t help but peak in on her. As teens, they don’t come out of their lairs as often as we would like them to. So, honestly, every chance I get to come up with an excuse to peak in on her or tell her I love her, I do it. Life is so short. I want her to know it. That I love her. Because I love her so big.

The grass is turning bright green again. I try and focus on that in this moment, as the thoughts of upcoming specialist’s follow-ups for my many ailments come creeping up on me in the coming days. I’ve spent a lot of time pushing back fear and trying to live in faith. It’s hard sometimes, if I am being honest. Some of the answers I get could change my entire world, or my daughter’s entire world, or both. So, each day, I am just living in every moment. Loving as hard I can, harder than I ever have. I am accepting hugs, which I have always struggled with as a touch me not and never accepted before. Even the closest people to me have jokingly asked permission before hugging me in the years up till now. However, in this new chapter in my life, I want love in every form. All of it. And I want to give it back, in every form. Freely and wholeheartedly.

We can’t change any bad or good news we get. We can’t change how long or short the time we have here on this earth is. And we can definitely not change the yesterdays that got us to this very moment. Tomorrow, no matter what the day brings, I will embrace what comes, with my everything. And gather all of the remnants to take with me, wherever I may go…

Faith and Forgiveness

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I feel adrift in this crazy world,

Never knowing what’s coming next.

Being pulled in every direction,

Mostly feeling vexed.

I often feel as if I am on the outside looking in,

Never making up for things I’ve done,

Never feeling a win.

But there’s a hope within me,

And a love that grows each day.

A light like sunshine,

That floods in to extinguish the gray.

I’m clinging to an optimism,

that maybe it’s not too late.

And a prayer that after forgiveness,

I can start with a clean slate.

I’m feeling undeserving,

In the most vulnerable way.

The fight is on for survival,

The fear must subside today.

On my knees begging,

For the chance to show some change.

Whatever I have to do,

And fully prepared to fully rearrange.

So, I’ll walk through this door,

with faith instead of worry.

For once try and slow my mind down,

And not be in such a hurry.

Laying my insides out,

And stop living for everyone else.

Fighting away a doom that makes me want to shout,

Finally placing procrastination on a shelf.

No matter the outcome,

I’m still here in the now.

Thankful for the blessings,

And not questioning the why and the how.

I will love til my last breath,

asking everyone to not be sad.

So incredibly grateful for family and lessons,

Not spending another single second mad.

I encourage you to be raw and open,

And to never waste each chance.

And to never give up, no matter what,

Life is fleeting, love is priceless, and our time here on this earth one big and beautiful dance.

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Note To My Subscribers

I wanted to take a moment and say thank you so much for your support. Writing is everything to me and it means even more to know that people enjoy and support my passion.

I wanted to take a moment to encourage you to go check out my older posts and entries. Just scroll to the bottom to the archives and let me know what you think.

There are entries of poetry, and even more vulnerable posts about motherhood, and dealing with my daughter’s mental illness, and autistic diagnosis.

Again, I thank you from the bottom of my heart for all of your support and love. And I look forward to continuing this journey with you.

Debra ❤

Poetic Epiphany

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Not a soul in the world knows her pain,

Not a soul in the world hears her scream.

Alone is a word she is comforted by.

It’s a familiarity.

The shivers of the cold world can not be shaken.

And she doesn’t need the blanket of a lie repetitively told.

If the runaway train continues to run,

She will not chase the tracks.

And she will bury herself amongst the most

loneliest of poets.

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Seeing Red..

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I see red in the faces,

Of strangers passing on the street.

And red in their shadows,

As they shuffle all their feet.

There’s red in the vomit,

That spews from their mouths.

And you can see the panic on their faces,

Knowing in this red cage, there is no way out.

I see red in the carnage,

This sad world leaves in its wake.

And I see red in its actions,

As it gives less than it takes.

You see red all around her,

Choking away her bright blue eyes.

No one hears, and no one sees her,

As the darkness muffles her cries.

I see red drip from her teeth,

As she claws through another day.

You see a pretty picture,

And then turn the other way.

I see red in the mystery,

Of what hides behind each smile.

And I see red in the blue skies,

As I climb on another mile.

Tip your hat and mask the splatter,

As you smear each smudge away.

Wipe the red lipstick you woke up in,

Freshen up, and start the day.

See each red in all its glory,

Knowing the misery’s intact.

Live each day with every scar like a battle,

Lady warrior, loner, ready for war and the attack.

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I Am Here..

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I’ve been zoning out again, in my head, feeling inspired, or maybe it’s just pure stress. Either way, here I am. I find that during this time, could be a great time if you listen very closely to the small faint voices in your spirit, and all around you, for it to be possible to hear answers you were seeking, and sometimes didn’t even know you were seeking. It is also a time when you can replay your day, and deal with things you may have been putting off dealing with. A time for evaluation and soul stirring moments if you let it really soak in.

So, here I am.

On a day like today, it is so easy to droop down in your seat and feel sorry for yourself. However, it is sobering to instead, to look at yourself in the mirror and admit that you are not the best version of yourself. Try as you may, you may find that small blips of what you did or didn’t do have all but led you right here. But it’s also nice to know that as you look at yourself, as far as long-term relationships in your life, you have done all you can to solidify and reassure those, times two. And also have done everything you can to fully invest yourself into these relationships. And in recognizing that, it is important to reach a destination inside of that thinking and accepting that no matter what you want in a lot of those situations, sometimes goodbye is the last action needed, if a resolution still has not presented itself.

Profound right? Ha! So, what if these relationships are more complicated than just a simple goodbye? Like a last page you just can’t seem to turn so you can close the book.

But I regress. Because the truth is, we don’t ever really get back what we put out do we? I guess that if you are being selfless, then you really shouldn’t be expecting anything in return really.

I bite my tongue a lot. I sit back in my mind and am sometimes flabbergasted at the way people just spew out of their mouths the first vomit that chokes up, without ever considering that you may be standing on that cliff with only the back of your heels left planted on the edge because the weight of everything is leaning you forward. And, the wind is blowing you so brutally that you don’t really want to fight it much anymore. Maybe they don’t realize that the simple phone call you make to them in the middle of the workday, or the middle of the week, is your soul’s way of just trying to cry out to them. Just to say, I’m scared. I’m small. I’m feeling beat down. Or they post on social media things they don’t realize actually really hurt you. Or they don’t even call when it’s public knowledge that you are 100% not well. But people don’t think that way. Especially when it’s not them going through it. Humans are selfish and disgusting creatures.

You can feel them judging you. Why aren’t you working? Why are you doing this? Why aren’t you doing that? It’s so easy to do that isn’t it? To push those hurtful questions on someone who isn’t you. Especially when they truly will never know the extent of what you’re going through.

Or to think you know better for my child too because you think you could have done it better? Nah. In order to know exactly how everything would’ve turned out with you doing it instead, you would need to go back and live every moment. Starting from being the abused pregnant mom-to-be, to the abused new mom, all the way through each and every heartache your child went through, the bullying, rejections, watching your child be admitted into a mental ward and having to leave her there, the autism diagnosis, multiple mental health diagnosis’s since then, daily suicide talks, daily crying, cutting. Do you know what it’s like to have to go in your house and take every sharp object, or things that could be considered weapons, and any form of medications, buy a padlock, and lock everything up with a key? Or the horrible emptiness in a house the first week you bring them home from that hospital and what torment is trapped in your house? and I could go on and on. You absolutely can’t say you would do it differently or better unless you go back and live in every second of our lives, of my life. You just can’t.

Up until some people made me think different, I had always been thoroughly proud of the mother I was. Proud of coming through what I did and still loving and caring for my daughter unconditionally, always doing my best, although admittedly, it wasn’t much sometimes. A lot of kids that have mothers who have been through what I have, don’t get so lucky. So, I’ve always been proud of at least that small accomplishment. Well, at least until the past few years. At the end of each day, I have only tried to do the best I can with what I have. And I hope one day, my daughter is able to look at it that way and find a way to be proud of me.

You have to, especially if you are sick and limited to the amount of anger and emotional intake you are allotted each day, make the word acceptance a massive part of your everyday life. You have to really get to know yourself on a level you never dreamed of wanting to. Because in the end of each “middle of the night, hard day, faint voices, spirituality time,” it is inevitably you that you are there sitting with.

Personally, a lot of nights, being alone with me is hard. And that’s hard to describe. Because I absolutely don’t hate myself. I think no matter which way I went or roads I took, I would have ended in this same place, here, with myself. However, I want to make myself clear. I am unapologetically fucking sick. I don’t have to beg you to believe it, or care about how you feel about it anymore. I may live 100 more years, and I hope I do. But what a shame if I don’t? Well, shame for you, not me. I’ll be dead. (Insert wink)

One thing I do love about these new standards I’ve set, and these new lines I’ve drawn in the sand, is that I don’t have to settle anymore. I won’t limit myself to life-sucking friendships, drama, and complete two-faced bitchery and fakery! I can take my time and only accept people into my life whom I have things in common with, and who put just as much into things as I try to. A whole new story to write.

I am finally ready to rid myself of the outside bacteria that has long held me back. I don’t have to deal with it anymore. That is at least one think I can finally say I’m free from. And if you know me, that’s so huge.

So, everything else…over there!

And me, I am here….