A continuation of yesterday’s poem…
I know what I should do.
But I can’t seem to do it.
I sit down with hope.
I can’t sift through it.
Pencil meets paper.
So thoughts can flow free.
But something is inside
Putting its grip on me.
I have more to give.
There’s more to be told.
I must release this demon.
I must release the hold.
Today started like any other. I woke, prepared for the day, went to my vehicle, and opened the gate to leave. As I unhooked the chain, my thoughts transcended to that burning, perplexing question, What am I doing?
I’m going to work. I’m slaving away. I don’t like what I’m doing and I have to change it. I had a vision of waking early, but it wasn’t to pay the man. It was to feed the horses, play with the dog, and write.
I want to write. Instead, I am focused on making a dollar. I thought about all the excuses I make for not putting pen to paper. I thought of all the famous writers who made time. They made it happen. It wouldn’t just happen for me, I had to make sure it happened for me.
I’ve had enough of wanting. I had to want it so bad it became a necessity.
As the day wore on, my mind changed once again. Just because I wasn’t fond of my current job, didn’t mean I had to purposefully make it miserable in order to justify, or rather co-sign, my own bullshit. I had to make my current situation just as wonderful as the thought of my proposed future situation.
Not only do I have to make changes so I am able to fulfill my dreams of raising a horse, playing with a dog, and writing for a living, I have to make a change within my mind so I don’t sabotage my current situation.
Who cares if it sucks. And does it really suck? No. No it doesn’t. I just think it does. I make it suck.
So as I continue to learn and grow, I let today’s revelation transform me. I tell myself to work harder at perusing your dreams. It will never just “fall in your lap”.
I tell myself to stop making current situations horrible. Even though it isn’t what I want, it’s what I have and I must make the best of it.
Let this be the year we strive harder, live more, and follow our dreams with the wildest of ambitions combined with a strong desire to see it through because no one knows exactally how to make them true but yourself.
For some of us, 2016 was one of the worst years to date. It stole some very famous, loved people, it left some of us jobless, homeless, sick, and without anymore people to love. It was a rough stretch of road.
For myself, 2016 seemed to be a beginning of hope; everything was falling into place. I had a great new job prospect, I was going to sign on a house, and a relationship that was sure to become doomed seem to be mending itself. I was certain 2016 was going to be my best year yet.
Before the beginning of February, it slowly started to fall apart. The new job fizzled away, the house fell through, and the relationship faded. By the middle of the year, I was thinking of ways to get out of my situation. It was going in circles and I needed to jump from the ferris wheel before it sent me off a cliff.
I ended up deciding I needed to move back home. I needed to leave the sunshine, leave some very valuable friends, leave a decent job, and leave my marriage. By the end of August, I upheaved myself and my dog back to Missouri. I moved back into my parents at 36. That was rough. It took a lot of adjusting. I did not have a job and my bills piled.
I often give up pretty quickly, but I knew I couldn’t. 2016 wasn’t going to get me. I sent out resumes, went to many interviews, and even landed a great job with help from a friend. The job wasn’t for me. So I went out to find another. I couldn’t give up.
While I struggled to deal with reality, it started to hit me – my unsettled emotions. I never dealt with what I left behind. I started to break.
For me, I always try to keep a good support system. I had to cling to it. My life would depend on it.
I am better. 2016 tried to get me and I didn’t let it. I fought to stay a float.
Living with my parents was one of the best decisions I have ever made. They have and continue to help me everyday. There are some things they do that I am not sure I will ever be able to pay back. Everyday I am grateful.
2016 has taught me many lessons.
1. Not everyone is your friend.
2. Trusting others is a tricky delicacy.
3. Some friends will never be replaced or will ever want to be replaced.
4. Those with less, give more.
5. We are not meant to have everything, just everything we need.
6. The word grateful means more to me than years past.
7. Friends and family are my greatest assets.
8. There is more beauty in this world that was lost to me in the past.
9. Time is not to be squandered.
10. Love with all your heart because that’s all you have.
Even though 2016 was very difficult, I had to stop and see the good. This year has taught me to stop and realize just this. Look around you, find the joy, and embrace it. If you don’t, 2017 will be just as difficult as the years before.
Life will try you. It will test your strength. Life will try to break you and never ask if you’re okay. You have to look out for yourself, and you have to make sure to cherish the ones that love you.
Don’t make 2017 great. Instead, fill the year with memories, joy, laughter, tears, love, friends, and doing the things you love. For if you continue to keep doing these things, 2017 won’t be great because you tried to force it, it will be great because you lived exactly how you wanted.
Thank you for continuing to read and follow my blog. I hope you found the good inside 2016 and I hope you find even more to be grateful for in 2017.
Happy New Year.
It’s Friday, and all I can think about is how horrible the week was. However, I have to pause. I have to think about anything good, anything. So here it goes.
- I managed to find myself safe.
- I managed to not sleep in my car.
- I received money so I could find my way back home.
- People only give what they can, and that’s okay.
- I found the will to write 4 times.
- I was able to watch TV which included a horror movie.
- I have WiFi.
- My car is nice.
- I have good health.
- I have food.
There, 10 things. Not too shabby. I need to do this more often, or more than often, I will find myself in a negative thought process and the only place that will lead me is a cold shower, and orange jump suit, and a girlfriend or four. Because as we know, I’m too pretty for prison.
Happy Friday, and as someone I know would tell me, Be Blessed. For me, be grateful.
I don’t know why I must torture myself the way I do. My brain becomes convoluted with thoughts and I struggle to put anything coherent together. The real disaster hits when my thoughts become dissolved into my work life. I mispronounce words, struggle to think clearly, and on time. When I do not write, I find myself going crazy.
The struggle is not that I cannot write, the struggle is I often lack the will. I suffer, although I do not like to say I suffer because it makes me feel weak, so I like to own up to my affliction and say that I have depression. Many who know me would never know. They call me high-functioning, although I would call it barely functioning at all. But perspective is all in the mind of the tortured; the tortured being me.
Lately, because of many stressful events, depression has hit me rather hard. What I really feel is my sense of worth spiralling through the thick, sticky darkness, and while I am falling, I am also becoming trapped. It’s a tough world to break free. I have to stop myself or I become worse. I suppose this is where the high-functioning comes into play, or rather just a deep realization of self. I know who, what, when, where, and how. It is just that I often allow myself to become trapped within the walls of my own mind and soon I start to think of ways to end my existence. I torture myself.
I wrote today. I love to write. It is often my only true solace. I have been writing since I was young. It didn’t matter the story, I just wrote. What happens to me now, is I often lose the joy that comes with writing, and I find myself writing so I do not become trapped, so the torturing will end. If only I kept doing what I loved, would I realize the torturing never had to start.
I must keep my fingers around the pen. I must keep my fingers on the keyboard. If I do not, I will find myself unable to write at all.
The torturing has subsided for now. I wrote over 1,000 words today not including these and it only took moments. Why must I torture myself for days, when relief is a few clicks of words and time? When I answer that question, I’ll let you know. Until then, keep doing what you love, lest you find yourself tortured.
Just a little poem to free the soul.
It is chaos; this world I inhabit.
Holes, walls, and thorns leaving scratches.
I fall. I climb. I bleed.
I never find what I feel I need.
I’m trapped in a storm. I can’t breathe.
Save me from the fear creating me.
I will never find light.
I feel I am losing this fight.
Scratches are deep. The wounds wont heal.
Thorns are encasing; forming a seal.
I weep. I scream. Silence cleanses me.
Some things in my world are happening. As I typed that sentence, I want to add a qualifier – something extra, and when I tried, my mind went blank. Let me try again…
Some things in my life are happening, and I know exactly what to do. I embrace them.
This week, that isn’t even over, has been a whirlwind of opportunities. I have been given a few grand opprotunities that put me exactly where I have always wanted to become – a writer.
It feels weird to say, to think, and to even speak that word, and this is only because the time may be coming where it seems more real than before. I have always considered myself a writer; even as a child and through my adulthood. However, now it seems different. Now, people are asking me to work for them. That is the part I am having a hard time processing.
Recently, I started a blog – oh yes, another one. It is filled with one of my passions, horror. I started a blog where I review horror movies. Someone reached out to me and asked if I would post my reviews on moviepiolt.com. This is very exciting for me. The exposure from this could be phenomenal.
After I finished some other opportunities today, I finally posted on their site. You can read my first post here. I am seriously beyond excited and have told anyone who will listen.
If you are a fan of horror, and love to watch short films, read reviews, and look at weird stuff, then go check it out.
And thank you for following me, reading what I have to say, and believing in my muse.
I don’t write everyday. I can’t always find something provocative to say. I can’t always find the words despite the title of this blog. Sometimes, I am at a loss. Today, I give you a poem.
It’s short and sweet
Like a narrow street
It ends abrupt
My co-dependent nature is getting on my nerves. I feel I will always seek the approval of others. I will always need someone to be with me. I will always go out of my way, even if it crosses personal boundaries to make others happy. When will I learn? When will I learn I am good enough? When will I learn I do not need the approval of others to make myself feel wanted? When?
I took my first writing job. I am beyond exstatic. I was instantly thrilled. Someone liked my work enough to pay me. Awesome, right? Sure. It’s awesome for someone who isn’t a co-dependent hound. I instantly sought help (thank you, friends). I instantly assured myself my writing was crap. I instantly assured myself I was going to fail. My husband asked why and told me I would do awesome – “you always do”. It helped, that reassuring thought, for a moment. But I went to being stressed, overthinking, and asking for compliments. Anxiety had set in, I was yelling for no reason, and being a bitch.
When will I learn I am good enough? I have ample support. You guys follow me and read my work consistently, so I must be doing something right. If I wasn’t, this blog would have flopped. My friends would have nicely told me I sucked, and my work would never speak for itself.
One day I will learn. I won’t seek approval. The approval will be in the way others ask me to keep going.
Thank you for reading and continuing to unknowingly acknowledge my work – good or bad, I am always improving and always changing for the better.
I often wonder how much I can take before I snap. My stress is unlike any metaphor I can portray, but I continue because I have to. I need money, so I work. When I’m at work, I carry on as if nothing is wrong. On one of my days off, I have a breakdown. It’s not what it could be. A full nervous meltdown hasn’t happened, but it’s in the works.
I am fully aware that one day I will lose it, but I have to keep pressing. No one has approached me yet and offered a worry free life. A life where I can blog, be on social media, and write all day. At least not yet. So I work. I work and fake happiness for days in a row. When I am finally alone, I cry and sleep half the day away. I’m an introvert. I need a day without noise, talk, and people.
It’s what we do, I suppose. We push ourselves to do what we must. Perhaps I’ll never have a complete meltdown. I’ll just work and get by. The true meltdown is my body slowly giving out. It aches and strains, yet I work another day. I work without a care, without an emotion, without a sign of stress so I can live. But the real living is wasted for the dollar. It’s wasted in my tears.
I can only hope my stress doesn’t break me. I hope I can fulfill my dream to write as a career. I hope I can live.