The scent of ash and soot as the world around you burns, your home has caught on fire, it’s destroying your life’s work. If life is what the world believes determines what you’re worth, then you’ll believe that material things are more important than your morals. I’ve come to see and now believe that things don’t count for anything, and while money buys you everything, it doesn’t change the way you you think when you’re alone, when thoughts flood your head. So don’t spare a moment, don’t hold a thought, tell everyone you love that you can’t get enough, and promise to be true to yourself and hold that above everything else.
I thought I’d share some links to my bands old music, featuring me singing.
“Dogs Get It, Why Can’t You?” (2013) https://youtu.be/twfvHzAJxeo
“A Path For Losing Faith” (2014) https://youtu.be/JK0lRlIS4Nw
“Stories Told In Ink” (2015) https://youtu.be/8zXorifdzCA
“Tragic Tendencies” (2015) https://youtu.be/oxtO2q4AeyA
I’ve never known the feeling of being number one, always second guessing the second chances I thought I’d earned. Left abandoned in the dark of night, down a steep and scary incline, forever lonely whether I’m alone or surrounded by a group. It’s rare today for me to be with others, through anything, this loneliness is the only constant that I have known. I’ll never understand the way that other people think, I’m never first for anything, and I have a hard time believing that I’m even a thought in someone else’s mind. I think about it all the time, how I’ll never a friend by my side. I keep writing the same old things, to different rhythms, different beats, but it’s because I’m out of luck, I’m out of time, can’t take no more.
What would I save if I had the time to think about what I’d want to survive a fire, my daughter, her food, her favorite toys, all the keepsakes from when she was born. It took for me to see this prompt to realize what’s important enough to risk my life to save for her, to show her when she’s a bit older. I wouldn’t save the concert tickets that were once my life, the pictures I have of us playing live, despite thinking that’s who I am, I know now it’s just who I was. I’m constantly struggling with identity, my life is much harder than I thought it’d be, I have far less friends that I never see than I thought I was when I was a girl, I always thought they’d stand by me. I’m a mother and a lover and nothing more, so as long as she’s safe then I couldn’t ask for more.
Through a telescope I view the world, withdrawn and alone, desperate to observe the way humans interact with one another, love each other, try not to judge one another. It shows me the way life is for the other side, the fortunate ones with families and friends, people they know will be there till the end. I’ve studied sociology and psychology to help me comprehend why I’d never be like anyone else, but with a better understanding of the world, I’ve become jaded, impossible for me not to feel isolated. There’s no consolation prize at the end of this ride, either you’ll make it out alive or disappear into the night. I’ve grown so weak and weary, there’s no pep left in my step, and all that I’ve got left are reminders of a life I’ll never have. If the grass was greener over there, I’d never know, because from where I’ve been standing my whole life, grass won’t even grow. You’ve salted the earth surrounding me, poisoned me in my sleep, forcing me to be so obsessed that I see you in my dreams. So take your serpent tongue, your careless lies, and leave me be so that I can try to figure out where I belong for the rest of eternity.
Bruises on friendly faces, children forced into awful situations, water running yellow and poisoned, out voices unheard, our position averted. There’s a crisis ongoing, it has been for years, but most of us live unaware of the fears that we should be focusing on, not the ones we are, but our minds can’t help but wander to small problems. It’s hard enough to diagnose what caused all this hate, how rich people can kick the homeless while they’re down. Another day, another dollar, another holocaust coming our way. Except this time it’s happening in the “greatest nation around”, and no one can seem to explain to me why our president is came to power when he’s basically Hitler reincarnated. The ignorance that was once bliss has turned dark and cold, we’ve turned against one another once again, every man for themselves.
Thank you so much to Judy Redic (www.myjourney29site.WordPress.com) for nominating me for the Versatile Blogger Award! I’d just like to say that this past month of blogging has certainly brought me some clarity, despite the fact that I’m still struggling daily to survive. Thank you to anyone and everyone who has taken the time to read or respond to my blog, I share this journey with you all.
- You have to thank the person who nominated you and provide a link to their blog! (Being kind)
- Link the nominees and inform them about their nomination (passing the love, that was given)
- Nominate at least 15 bloggers of your choice (At least)
- Share 7 facts about yourself (being truthful)
- Judy Redic, My Journey (www.myjourney29site.WordPress.com)
- Lee, A Courageous Mess (www.acourageousmess.com)
- My Simply Chaotic Life (www.mysimplychaoticlifeblog.WordPress.com)
- Laura Black, Black Spot Site (www.blackspotsite.com)
- Amy, Motherhood Is A Cakewalk (www.motherhoodisacakewalk.WordPress.com)
- Confessions of Scar (www.confessionsofscar.WordPress.com)
- Ameena, Randoms By A Random (www.randomsbyarandom.WordPress.com)
- Becoming Cliche (www.becomingcliche.WordPress.com)
- Samantha Mae, Lesbian Bottle Blonde (www.lesbianbottleblonde.com)
- Eleynal, Just A Pizza My Mind (www.justapizzamymind.WordPress.com)
- Michael, Desperate To Entertain (www.peoplelivehere.WordPress.com)
- My Perfect Breakdown (www.myperfectbreakdown.com)
- After All Tomorrow Is Another Day, Beautiful Thoughts & More… (www.beautifullyrandom.blog)
- Fragments of Me, Fragments Of My Mind (www.fragmentsofmymindweb.WordPress.com)
- TheGirlOnTheGo08, Words Can’t Fathom (www.wordscantfathom.WordPress.com)
- Caleb Gumbs, The Ocean Inside of Me (www.calebgumbs.WordPress.com)
Facts About Myself:
- Writing is my only escape, my only distraction, my only means to cope.
- I’m a full time stay at home mother to a special needs daughter whom I adore.
- I suffer from several chronic pain causing diseases, scoliosis, degenerative disc, joint, and bone diseases, rheumatoid arthritis, connective tissue disease, and more.
- I was incredibly close to achieving my dreams, I got to perform at Vans Warped Tour with my husband in 2015.
- I started this blog as a way to let out all of the things that no one wants to hear, the words that scare people away.
- I’m the loneliest that I have ever been.
- Motherhood, singing, and writing are the only things that I’ve ever been good at.
What do you do when you’re all alone? When you’re struggling to survive, wondering if you’ll ever truly get to love your life, and there’s no one by your side, how are you supposed to stay alive? My child has no one outside of us, a mother and father who care so much, but not one other familiar face, no one to help keep her heart beating pace, someone she knows she can always go to when she has a problem she doesn’t want her parents to know. I want her to know that I’m always here, a mother, a friend, a fan till the end. But I’ve seen enough to know that now it’s too hard for me to keep faking a smile, she needs positivity, guidance, and light, she needs someone else to tuck her in at night when the pain has taken over and I just need a break, someone to stay with her while my husband and I go on a date. I love him so much but I’ve forgotten how to touch or be touched without feeling like I’ll never be enough. I have no desire to be intimate, less to be attractive, and my mind is the only part of me that’s overactive. I’m missing the friends I thought I had, the mother I wish I had, the father that was supposedly bad, and all of those who claimed to care, then disappeared at the sight of a flare. My calls for help remain unanswered, and it seems as though it’ll be this way forever after.
I’m gonna be 26 in two weeks and yet there’s still this insecure, young, naive feeling inside of me that I can’t seem to shake. As much of an adult as I’ve always been, I skipped the period hetween childhood and adulthood, adolescence. For a very short period was I able to operate as a normal teenager, although being subjective, I don’t know if I’ve ever been normal at all. I still feel exactly as I did 10 years ago, it’s like I’m 16 and never left, like I never figured out what came next. It’s not that I came upon this realization suddenly, it’s that I finally realize how detrimental it’s been to me, my life, my family. I never had a real role model, so I turned to television, books, movies, etc. I sought out an escape, a ray of hope, a light in the tunnel, someone to look up to, someone that deserved it. I still haven’t found that person, so I know I have to be her, because the closest thing I’ve got, is my daughter. She’s the light of my life, but she needs me to be more. She needs me to be the person I never had, the person I’m still searching for, even if I have to figure it out as I go. I’ve gotta find a way to get through this, to be who she needs, to make sure she never suffers at my hand, that I don’t hold her back, that I find enough hope to encourage her to follow her dreams, despite learning the hard way that life usually has a way of stopping you from getting what you want. I’m trying so hard, but I’m starting to question if I’m ever gonna be able to access that person.
Optimism, pessimism, realism. What is the real difference between these points of view? For me, this is all basically still the nature vs nurture argument, are we products of our environments, or are we truly independent beings with the ability to change our cognitive thinking? Is it possible to overcome depression and it’s symptoms without medication and therapy? If I’ve always been depressed, and neither of those things have ever helped, then how am I supposed to be different? Misery is mostly all I’ve ever known, sometimes there’s solace in it, other times I’ve tried desperately to get away. But now I’m stuck with no way out.
Automatic pilot, life’s passing by, flying off the handles, escaping my third eye. Impossible to comprehend how things could go from here, will I finally let it all go, or will I let it win? Gonna take a deep breath, hold it all in, find a way to let myself believe again. Begin again, I’ve tried a thousand times, wondering why I can’t figure it out. Most people know just what to do to make themselves feel better and brand new, but here I am, a fucking mess, wishing it was easier to pretend that my life will ever reach the end, but instead I’ll focus on what I’ve got, a side of depression mixed with bad luck.
I had to take a break from writing, my thoughts have turned blank as I’m trying to figure out how to do what’s best for my daughter. I watch TV shows with families I’d have loved to have, to learn how to be a better parent because I never had a real role model. They think there’s something else wrong with her, my brain isn’t processing things properly. I can’t wrap my mind around why this is all happening to such an innocent child. Our lives are completely out of our control, there’s only so much more I can do for her. I can’t even consider looking for a babysitter because I can barely manage her and I’m her mother. Terrified as I overlook this early head start info packet because she doesn’t know how to interact with others and can’t tolerate strangers regardless of gender. She can’t even tell me what’s causing her pain, although I have a good enough idea, it kills my heart because she’s trying so hard to tell me but doesn’t know how. My heart is breaking for my child, for the life I know I’ll never be able to give her. I wish I had someone to help, a friend who shows up unannounced and knows just how to make me smile, someone who will play with Coraline for awhile. But how am I supposed to make new friends when I never go anywhere without being in a hurry, or being on a mission. I’m drowning in a sea of misery, loneliness, and deceit.
The filter of the world today, Instagram, Snapchat, selfies taken in vain. I can’t fathom living this way, full of ego, ignoring dismay. I’m shocked that life goes on this way, but our generation is desperate. They feed on others’ attention, scared to search for true affection. But I would rather be alone, stuck inside my lonely home, than put myself out there that way, asking for attention that I can’t take. My mind’s unfiltered, smothered with remorse and regret from all the lives I couldn’t change. So many people left unphased by the misery around the world, the struggles our children are going through. But I’ve chosen another view, to take pictures in my mind, to keep them in view. The only pictures I’d like to keep are those of my daughter as she grows into herself, as she figures out who she is, as she develops into someone else. Let’s give more value to what we have, it’s the only way to fully appreciate it.
Keep it simple, so they say, and things will always go your way but I’m skeptical, and I must say, that I have tried to live my life this way. It doesn’t work, and I’ll admit, that I can’t help but hate the kids who think their problems mean a thing, a broken heart will mend in days, but the kind of life that I have faced, simply put will steal your faith. I’m trapped behind a simple wall, in a simple town, full of simpletons, but I’m not the same, I never was, and I’ll never be the girl you want. It’s simple to say what you want, the hard part is not letting it go.
One of the only things I’ve always known, don’t count on others, do what you’re told. I’ve never been one to believe that there’s anything you can’t achieve but I’m still searching for relief and I can’t seem to find my place so I’ve been moving all over this state. I’m stuck in space, I’ve lost my faith, all I wanted was to be something great. I can’t imagine who I’d have been if life hadn’t destroyed all my will. I’m sick and tired, tired of pain, and wishing I could change my name, get a new face, leave this place. I’m against changing my ways because change brings pain which I can’t take, I’m overwhelmed, overburdened, and upset. I’m devastated from everything I worked for that life took away.
Oversight, it’s what I’ve been for all my life. Oversight, it’s all I think about at night. When I’m alone with my own thoughts I can’t help but feel so fucked up over everything that happened in the past. There’s nothing I can say to share the way I know this is the end, but I’m not gonna force myself to stay. I’ve been stuck with my own thoughts, without a friend, I gave them up because I just couldn’t take it any more. No one ever thinks of me and wonders how I’m gonna be or how I managed to achieve a single thing despite my lack of will to live inside a world where nothing ever matters anyways.
Success is as relative as everything else in life, some rich in money, and some rich in wisdom from experiencing life. I personally find myself rich in pain, rich in misery, torture in my brain. The pain is never ending, so how do I succeed in a world where our government decides how to treat my pain? I’ll never hold a normal job, never able to provide a single thing for myself or daughter, relying on someone else. If only I could make you see that everything is make believe, and nothing is quite what it seems, but it seems I’ll never find relief, I’m doomed to roam the earth in vain.
Privacy is obsolete, it no longer exists. We’ve been fooled into believing that we can hide anything, when really we’ve been put under a microscope of mistrust and corruption. Corporations rule the land, we have no right to feel the anger they claim we’ve misplaced, when really we’re too late. It’s been going on since long before myself was ever born, we never truly had a chance to change things at their core. Our children’s futures compromised, sold off to the highest bidder. It’s hard to see when you’re beneath the tree, spared by shade, but us living in poverty are frying in the sun. We’re struggling to comprehend just how we can survive, when money buys you everything, even the right to be alive.
I’m distasteful, never been one to be graceful, never wanted to turn into another song, another cliché whisking myself away, but not in a good way. I wanna get away, try again to be myself another way, there’s gotta be a way to settle down in my head, so I can try to be the person I was meant to be, not what life made me to out to be. I’m jaded, my senses are faded and I’ve miscalculated the ways that I’ve been changed by your hand, from everything you’ve done and by how you made me feel, I never deserved it at all.
I’ve been exposed, my worst fears begin to show, and I’m alone, wishing I could find a home. I’m searching through my mind and wisdom to find another way to push myself, out of this hell. The snow it’s falling all around me, I’m wishing I could find another way, to pull my head from the water. I’m surrounded by the lies you told, your alibis, you never give me credit anymore because I’m your door, you walk through me and my insecurities. It’s not okay and I’m afraid that I’ll fall back into my old ways, I worked so hard to get away and now I’m right back on my way back there, to be that pathetic girl all over again.
There’s no aesthetic in an uneven life, no amount of good karma could ever make it right. I’m sad to say that I’m alone, I fear I always will be. I can’t keep up with my own mind, can’t focus on my intentions. My daughter brings me all the joy I experience in my life, so I’ve forgotten who I am outside of being a mother. There’s worse things in life, this I know, but I miss having friends, having fun, going out alone. There’s not a soul that I can confide in, I mistake my mother for the one I’ve always wanted. With every word I tell her, it feeds her ammo, and she shoots me down until she knows I’m weakened, can’t get up from the ground. I hope that I was wrong, that there’s much more to life, than all this misery, pain, and strife.
The pain is never ending, the stress cannot compare to the way it makes me feel, the way my heart breaks from despair. I’ve been running, running, running, away from all I’ve seen, into the darkness, the unknown, for it’s the only place that brings me peace. I’ll never know which way to go when I’m coming up on the crossroads, but it’s not enough to push me off the road that I’ve been traveling. I’m slowing down, losing pace, lost myself in time and space, in search of an unknown place that gives me hope and guides me home, a place I worry I’ll never know.
It’s obscene the way that people believe that they’re worth more than someone else. To think that wealth means more than me and what I’ve done, what I’ve been through, the thoughts of mine that remain unseen by the rest to the world unless I let them see. I’m scared to think of what the future holds for me, my daughter, what happens when I can’t assist her with her daily life, when my disabilities make it impossible for me to live a normal life. I’m already there, it’s already happening, it’s already hard to take care of myself, but you need my full attention now, so I hope you’ll know when I’m crippled and old that I did everything I could for you and so much more.
Am I capable of changing my fate or the way the world operates? Is it possible to figure out just what it is I’m meant to do, who I’m meant to be, only time will tell. Am I strong enough to persevere and be sincere to myself? Will I ever be enough to take care of myself, and will I ever comprehend that the means don’t justify the end? Is it stupid to believe that happiness is possible, that with this pain I will find comfort, that I’ll get out of this dungeon? I’m trapped behind these walls, but they’ve been keeping me safe from all the other ways that life can come your way and destroy what you’ve built, a tragedy and still you feel that you deserve it so you chalk it up again. Without a voice, without a choice, without a will to keep surviving, I’m not as tough, can’t give enough, I’m barely staying conscious. It’s hard for me to see, I’m stuck without relief, forever overwhelmed by pain and chasing happiness.
Someday I’d like to think it’ll be my turn to do what I want, and not what I have to. Someday I’ll be strong enough to be myself, instead of just trying to impress everyone else. I’ve wanted to chase my own selfish dreams, but for now I’ve gotta focus on my baby, putting her above the rest, and that includes my true happiness. And there’s someone that I’ve sworn one day will join my side, the one that got away, if you will, she’s been running through my mind. I can’t help but wonder what could’ve been, or how things might’ve turned out in the end. But I’ll see her in my dreams instead, wishing she could hold my hand. And if we end up alone in the end, I hope you find all the happiness within.
Stick with me like I’m your last hope to find eternal peace, cling to me like you’re a fiend for which I am all drugs. Sing with me and relish in all the glory that is love, laugh with me as we tell jokes all night long. Sit with me by the fire for awhile, contemplate how small the world is in the scheme of life. Cling to your dreams in all their glory, the ones you love, and everything else for we never know when our time is near, time for us to leave this earth. We never think it’ll happen to us, death, abuse, neglect, yet we all go through periods of dealing with these things, even if we never say it. Life is full of misconceptions, let’s enjoy what we can before it’s all ruined.
Let’s have a practical and realistic conversation about what’s happening to the girls and young women in this country. In the era of Trump being our president-elect, we’ve got to take this seriously and address it before it’s too late. It may already be, I can’t be sure, but that won’t stop me from trying to raise my daughter the proper way. I’ve never been one for physical violence, bit my daughter will be taught how to protect herself in case anyone ever tries to grab her, take advantage of her, or force themselves on her. I hate to raise her into thinking that there are bad people everywhere, but I’d be doing her a huge disservice to allow her to think that everyone is good and no one will hurt you. We all deserve better than that.
Raise your sons to know never to touch a woman inappropriately, think about their future friends, girlfriends, wives, and potentially daughters. We’ve gotten to a point where it’s easier to make excuses for why girls are mistreated than for why boys are mistreating them. Our society is struggling greatly to see the severity of our actions, but we’ve gotta address the impact it’s truly having. We’ve gotta take responsibility as parents, something our generation’s parents failed miserably at, and recognize the fact that this is much more than just another nature vs nurture argument we’re facing right now. While there is valid points for either nature or nurture, I’m choosing to believe that I can nurture my daughter into knowing the truth of what’s out there, that not everyone is raised by parents who worry about the future of our country, that not everyone is a good person.
There’s nothing with perfect symmetry; from branches on trees to tectonic plates, to the cracks in your heart, the uneven breaks in which life has caused a million times. There’s no time for tears, yet I can’t stop crying and trying to unveil the unevenness I feel when I attempt to explain what I see in my head. I always feel uneasy with my thoughts when I’m alone, and I haven’t figured out how to suppress them, to ignore. I’m struggling to figure out just how to shift my thoughts from my regrets into a new era of positivity, I’ve been trying to for what feels like an eternity. Uneven can’t even begin to explain just how uneven my life seems, I’ve never hurt another soul, but I’m always feeling defeated. I tell myself that karma’s coming, that it’s coming back around to repay me for how much I’ve done for everyone else. It’s time I focus energy on myself instead of others, the only one I’ll put before me is my daughter who deserves better than some sad, depresses, pathetic mom who hides to cry, shallower with shame.
I don’t need a symphony to play it out for me, I’ve come to see that times like these are not as bad as they may seem. There’s no excuse for my behavior, but I’m consumed by paranoia. Despite all that I’m just trying to feel alive, just trying to find a purpose in life that makes me feel that I’m worth while. I can’t believe the things I’ve seen so I try hard to forget them, so I can become someone else, someone with less perspective. The things that boil my blood, the suffering and poverty of mentally ill people who have no families. We’re supposed to get by on our own, no help or dignity. You judge us all like you know best, as if you’ve ever struggled. To turn 18 and be kicked out of your foster home, to have to go back to abuse that you were taken from many times, but was always forced to return back to. I’ve never met another soul who truly understand my reasons for wishing I could get away to a place with warmer seasons, and pretend like I’m some different girl, that I haven’t yet been broken, or jaded by the things in life that you have no control over.
There’s an infinite number of lonely faces, crumbling buildings, and torn down places. The streets are filled with animosity, a seemingly infinite amount of death it’s seen. I’m failing to find my purpose in life, and I’m struggling hard to see the light, yet there’s something inside me just desperate to escape. There’s hope in my heart and it’s alive, but it’s getting tougher not to fight it in my mind. I’m ashamed to say I’m not the same, and all of my good qualities are fading away. I’m isolated and I can’t face it, but I’ve become way more than just complacent. Too many tears shed in strife, I don’t know if I’ve got what it takes to fight these demons my whole life.
How do you know just what is real? What’s in a dream, and how does it feel? There’s a specific difference that I’ve come to find on how to play a trick on my mind. Sometimes I think that I disguise the way I feel, the pain inside, and take myself out for a drive to clear my head and free my mind. I’m indecisive but that’s okay, I’m no fan of certainty anyway. I’m cold and broken, I’m tired of fighting, I wish you’d see how hard I’m trying. My pain unbearable, my thoughts aren’t buying into this notion of it gets better and if it gets better then why haven’t I been able to find relief? How long do I have to live like this before it’s my turn, I don’t wanna just survive anymore I’m working on changing the way that I’ve been sabotaging myself and the happiness I can’t seem to find is buried beneath all the stress that I’ve been carrying around in my chest.
Let me float above the sky, on my search for peace. I’ll float as though I’m full of air, through the water of all the seas; it’ll appear as though I’m as weightless as a feather floating free. They say that seeing is believing, but I think that’s a lie, there’s things I see that I can’t believe, then out of sight, out of mind. It’s not uncommon for us to drown, below the surface of all life’s woes, but if you’ll try to float with me, then maybe we’ll leave behind all the hurt.
There one was a time when all was calm, when things seemed good, till I got the call. There was something strange in the air that night, something in my gut told me something wasn’t right. I can’t believe it happened to you, I never thought it could be true, but now I lay here, eyes open wide, wishing you were by my side. I’ve always been tempted to attempt suicide, but now I have a reason to abide. I’m tempted to join you, where ever you are, and if I can’t find you then I hope I’ll find the dark.
Pregnancy was unexpected, at the time unwanted, and I was beyond terrified. On May 2014 I would find out that I was 5 weeks pregnant, the biological father was already out of the picture, he used me just like so many others, except this time it wasn’t just me that was abandoned. It took me weeks to get ahold of him, though it made no difference whatsoever, she just turned 2 and he’s never even attempted to meet her. Instead, I was incredibly lucky. My previous boyfriend and I ended up getting back together by summer 2014. We were only broken up for 6 months, my life was in such shambles after it happened that I completely strayed from the path I set for myself, and it ended up deciding the rest of my life for me.
Aside from the obvious and expected symptoms of pregnancy, something inside me felt strange, wrong, and it made it incredibly difficult for me to bond with her during the pregnancy. We wouldn’t find out until my scheduled c-section on December 18, 2014 that my placenta had been dead for over a month, that she was incredibly underweight, deprived of nutrients and oxygen, and that she wasn’t able to retain enough body heat. She had to be closed up in this awful see-through box, we could only touch her every 3 hours, after the initial 8 hour period that I didn’t get to see her after I gave birth. The feeding tube would come that night, when my body refused to produce any breast milk, and when she refused to latch on to bottles.
My body felt tortured, violated, abused, and I was far beyond feelings of failure because the one thing my body was built for, it couldn’t even do properly. She was starved, her brain suffered damage, and on top of the nausea I already experienced before my pregnancy, it was now a constant daily occurrence. I gained 16lbs while I carried her, and after never having had a cavity before in my life, I developed 9 throughout those 9 months. Having to set an alarm on my phone to get her out every 3 hours, even all through the night, was the darkest and most painful moment of my entire life. Knowing that my body did this to her, messed up her chances at being healthy, made me feel worthless and inferior.
By the time she was 6 months old, it had already become apparent that she was behind, and that she was incredibly underweight still despite having been on formula with extra calories from birth. It took about 6 months after that to actually get her into therapy; physical therapy, occupational therapy, and dieticians poked, prodded, and pushed her to the point where she no longer tolerated being around anyone but my husband and I. They told me she has sensory processing disorder, not that I had a clue what that meant. Therapy only lasted a few months, and it mostly entailed of her crying inconsolably, not cooperating with them, and them giving us things to work on with her at home. They eventually ended up explaining that since she had not made any improvements with them, that they wouldn’t see her anymore, in order to help children who are able and/or willing to cooperate during scheduled sessions.
There’s nothing more painful than a therapist telling you that your daughter may never let you hold her hand, or kiss her cheek, that she may not be capable of feeding herself, that potty training would be increasingly difficult. So far she’s printed them wrong about everything, minus the potty training, but we haven’t even tried that yet. It took her awhile to get caught up, but now she’s walking, running, and babbling up a storm on a daily basis, exploring everything, and fine tuning her motor skills with her toys and books. She’s smart, funny, healthy, and above everything else, she’s happy.
I’m not sure where the future will lead us, when she will be ready for potty training or preschool, but I do know that I’ve done more research on her sensory needs, ways to stimulate them, and ways to make her feel more comfortable than I’ve done on anything else. I’ve done absolutely everything I can to address all her needs, and every single day that means putting her first, pushing my needs aside so that I can focus on her. Some days are harder than others, sometimes I wish someone would take care of me that intently, but when she comes running to my arms, smiling ear to ear, it makes life easier to deal with.
Crossing my fingers to hope for the best, crossing my scarf across my neck. The sinking feeling of uncertainty, with the bone breaking cold makes me wish I’d disappear, and leave this place for good. Crossing paths with those who are like me is never easy, but I digress, it adds fuel to the fire burning inside my chest. This world is cruel, its people heartless, most of whom pass constant judgment. Why should I trust myself to be open, to share my true thoughts, when the looks I get make me wish I were dead, just for thoughts I cannot control, the things crossing my mind when I’m alone.
Sleep is both my most dreaded time of day, but also my most cherished. When you’ve got chronic pain, you become a slave to yourself. You push and pull yourself all over, knowing eventually you’ll reach some sort of breaking point, yet knowing your daughter still needs you for many years yet to come. She’s special needs, she’s developmentally behind, but she’s happy and healthy. It’s a constant battle in my mind, the concept of reaching out, asking for help. I’ve tried before, more times than I can count, and now I’m at the point where I’d rather just grin and bare it than have to cope with the disappointment and resentment of my please being ignored. People are cruel, they’ll lead you on, tell you they’re always but here, don’t be a stranger, hit me up sometimes, the usual social media excuses. Don’t lie like that to people who are truly struggling, if we trust you enough to reach out for help, and you deliberately disregard it entirely, then you’re the worst kind of person. How do I sleep with the weight of the world on my shoulders? With a daughter who needs me? With a husband who deserves better than me? Only time will tell how long I can continue to push through, to go without treatment for fear of addiction, judgment, or becoming too impaired to be alone with my daughter for the 50+ hours my husband works every week now. How do I shut off my brain’s constant chatter in the background of my mind, always making sure I can’t forget that there’s never enough money for everything we need. How do I find peace? How can I allow my muscles to release when all this tension consumes me and dooms me to feel more pain? What happens when the one position I can lay in somewhat comfortably enough to fall asleep, suddenly becomes uncomfortable? It wouldn’t be the first time, and I know it won’t be the last. But what about the fact that we can’t afford the expensive mattresses that I know could change my life by allowing me to feel real relief from this crumbling structure I’m stuck with? This country works against me, mid 20’s with no job, applying for social security, a program so flawed that we’ve been living in poverty while I’m consistently denied the help that I need and deserve. I’m so tired of not being able to sleep when I’m tired, so exhausted of focusing on staying still while laying down, despite what feels like dozens of itching and scratching bugs crawling all over NY skin, underneath my skin even. This is either a symptom of my paranoia or my body playing games it knows I can’t win. What’s the best outcome for me, my family, my life? What’s to show for all the pain I’ve put aside, all I’ve endured? Will it ever get better? How could it possibly when I’ll never feel better?
I’ve started publishing the beginning of my novel over on Wattpad, for anyone who wanders there & may be interested! Please follow me & I’ll follow back! Any & all feedback is greatly appreciated, also!
Gone are the nights we shared in the moonlight, basking in all its’ glory. Gone are the times we shared everything, words now lost in the deep abyss of our minds. Gone are the days when we relished in each other, wishing time would stop forever. Gone is the feeling of never ending bliss, when we’d ignore the world, engulfed in each kiss. Gone are the memories of happiness, replaced with animosity. Gone are my ambitions, the dreams that I once had, for all my will has been stripped from me, all that’s left is a shell. Gone is my ability to see the light, all the positivity has been stripped from my mind, the color has left my eyes, making everything dark inside.
I wish there was an easy way to write down how I feel, a way to explain all the heartache I can’t heal. I’m struggling to find myself in a sea of drowning souls, the waves are crashing down around the life I’ve tried to mold. Depression reigns inside of me, its true depths I’ll never know. It seems it didn’t get easier to cope as everyone said it would. Faking it and never making it takes a toll after awhile, some days I can’t be brought to fake as much as a simple smile. Overwhelmed can’t begin to describe the way it feels to know the things I know, and the things I hear when I’m alone. I’ve been screaming out, my words are gone without a sound. Like smoke in the wind, I rise and fall against my will again.
My spirit has been broken, beaten, and battered, the only dreams I seem to remember are ones that end with my brain splattered, my life shattered. The only comprehension I can seem to make is that I’m longing for eternal peace, I’m longing for death. Despite all the effort that I make, all the steps I take, and all of the heartbreak, I’m uncertain as to what it means, what I’ve learned, how I’ve changed. Can someone please tell me which pill I should take to silence the shame? Is there someone who can reroute my fate? Will I ever catch a break? My only option right now is to wait.
Maybe one day people will see, you can’t feed the hungry with a diamong ring. In this world of insanity, it’s hard for people to be at peace. Judged on our religious beliefs, as though believing would be seeing, but it turns out that believing is deceiving. Let’s go back to a simpler time, go back in time to when the world seemed innocent and kind, and not flawed by design. And for those of us who grew up in the hood, whether you escaped or not, even if you’re still caught up, you deserve a standing ovation, an acknowledgment that you’re still alive, an inspiration to remind you of the times when ignorance was bliss and bliss was blind.
It’s been so long since I’ve seen my true self, and with all the time that’s passed, I think I’ve become someone else, I don’t recognize my reflection as I pass. It’s been awhile since I’ve known who I am, so long it seems that I can’t remember what makes me, me. But I can’t pretend like things are fine, I’m in denial, please reach my hand before I fall back into the same old things that kill, and fill this gaping hole with angst and anguish, pain and sorrow. Please hear my screams, my desperate cries for help, please see the real me, before I’m gone for good, before I give up on myself.
I’m underrated, underappreciated, and now I’m sad to say that all the better days I’ve seen have all begun to fade away. But I keep my eyes high, always looking up to the sky, in search of brighter days, cause as they all say they’ll come my way eventually. And yet I’m always waiting, always impatiently awaiting the arrival of the happiness I’ve earned, and the departure of my woes. But it never ends, this madness and sadness I’m living with, will be with me forever so it seems until I’m laid to rest, until my final days, until my body’s turning cold & gray, then maybe I can finally see the bright light at the end of the tunnel, instead of the darkness paved in front of me, so I can see that pain does not define me, so I can finally be free of the stigma, of the silent judgment that’s been haunting me for an eternity, and maybe then I’ll finally feel relief.