Testing…

A lot of times, the best pieces of poetry and novels are written when the author is going through extreme emotional or traumatic pain. It’s rare, at least for me to find a good piece of work written when someone is in a sort of joyous state. When I was younger, I wrote a lot of poetry and short stories. Believe it or not, I won a few awards and was published a few times. I wrote to escape my life that, at the time and in retrospect, was a hard upbringing. I will always stick to the fact that I wouldn’t change a single thing, because it made me a better and more resilient person. I wear my scars like a badge of honor because it takes a special person to rise out of what I’ve been through.

It’s hard overcome what I went through and the many things a child should never see. My escape was always writing. I was a friendless, lonely, only child with a lot of stories so I began writing my autobiography when I was 10 because I had enough; it was originally saved on a floppy disk. It’s over 900 pages of pages that I’ve never re-read because I’m too afraid of resurrecting feelings that I’d rather stay oppressed. I was a sensitive child, sensitive teen and now I still am as an adult, regardless of my trials. I’m too old to be embarrassed of my true feelings.

Ever since I moved to Arkansas, I remain secluded in fear of repeated everything that caused drama in my life that stemmed from surrounding myself with all the wrong people and extra curricular activities. I’ve change my ways for the most part, but there is a lot of damage that was instilled in me and that combined with my addictive personality is really hard to rise above.

Now that I’m almost two years sober, 30 weeks pregnant and lonely, I had my test seeing if I was worthy of both my impending accomplishments. Life is testing me to see if I would seek out drugs to mask my pain, instead I began writing. I lack coping skills for these situations, although I didn’t think so until now, but writing really is a good outlet for my feelings just like how it always as been. I’m also grateful I have the most loving and sensitive cat, Jackson. ❤ I’m so lucky.

Just keep swimming.…one day at a time.

Mission statement

In order to make room in my life for a newborn, I moved out of my apartment. By doing so, I obviously had to pack a lot of stuff and imagine this…unpack!

I look at moving as an excellent opportunity to purge on unnecessary items. Use it or loose it! My rule of thumb: if I haven’t used it the past two years it’s gone. Sorry, size 0 dress I only wore 3 times. Goodbye broken china plate, I really don’t have the time or the talent to make you into a mosiac. Goodbye useless childhood school crap. I’m pretty sure I know the scientific method by now…

But yes… I have saved all my school crap from 4th to 9th grade (when I dropped out). Of course, most of it was pure crap that I finally got had the courage to let go of, but I did find some gems!  Mostly my poetry books.

Believe it or not, I was skilled award winning ‘poet’ by the time I entered high school. I wanted to go to Harvard to be a poet. Ambitious, but at the time that where my life was headed. I stopped writing because one day I had a writer’s block, and I think I never truly broke past it. I became happy and writing was always a way to put my teenage angst-y, slightly morbid feelings towards something vaguely positive.

Even as I was going through the lot today, I was embarrassed by multiple things I read. I seriously felt sorry for myself, which I’m sure will happen in two years when I re-read all of these…but, I did stumbled on something dated from 2001 that really made me smile. It was called Mission Statement. I’m unsure if it was just past me talking to future me or if it was supposed to be a form of poetry or spoken word, but when I read it, I thought to myself, “Good for you! You did okay!”

After all my trials and tribulations, even after all my tests of character and the measure of my resilience. I can  honestly say, I didn’t stray too far from my life’s mission statement.