In progress

I have days when I melt down, have doubts and fears that I won’t make it. But I will; not only from sheer determination, but because I have learned to trust. Myself as well as others. I am a work in progress, and intend always to be growing and changing. A static being is a stagnant one, and that simply isn’t in my makeup.

That space in between darkness and light, right and wrong, good and bad is the healthiest place to live even if it is not always the easiest. The greatest lesson that came from this stage of life is that I have everything I need right here with me, all the time. My own knowing. Intuition. Strength. SO DO YOU. Use them wisely my friends.

How do we decide what our own boundary of forgiveness is?
With much of anything. I had no
expectations for how I deserved to be treated or how I should treat others. Raised with just a brother younger than me, I had a streak of selfishness, not because I was evil, but because I simply didn’t know how to really share. Nevern had to. Raised in a house of yellers, I knew I didn’t want this, but had to learn and practice a new way of doing it.

Well, guess what? Hard as we try; sometimes we fail. But I now realize that the boundaries of forgiveness also apply to us. Sometimes in order to be forgiven, if this is even possible or wanted, we need to forgive ourselves first. Sometimes we will always have years for that which eludes us – the words, the actions of “I forgive you.” But that does not mean we aren’t worthy of it.

Some wounds never heal if we keep picking the scab off.

Thought I had lost..

                  Seeing the romance in you makes my heart pace rapidly in my chest, while at times just your presence leaves me breathless. It gives me great happiness in knowing I love your touch expressive manner. You know exactly what to do with you kisses an your fingers on my body.

         I thought I had lost the ability to be romantic, but when you’re around there is such an allure like no other Ive ever encountered. You reopened my eyes to all the possibilities in life I’d almost lost all hope for and forgotten that and everything beyond that. You are the things words can never name.
           All it took for you to unravel me was one; one touch; one look; one kiss; one word. Your whispered words of desire caress my whole being while that look you get in your eyes unveiling the hunger you have for me causing mine to grow more and more every time. I crave you to overwhelm me with your look undressing me with your eyes, leaving me no way to elude you while you fondle me with your deepest darkest desires that have been buried deep within your mind. 
     You capture me with a single touch.


             As I move through the New Year, I feel the best point to start is by revisiting my pain, addressing it with care, and control, and transforming it into joy and gratitude. To shed the pay and anger, this issue takes the lead.
               Recovery from an abuser is never an easy road, but a necessary road to health an healing. A throbbing heart is a ready reminder of God. The bruised, damaged, and the broken are all around us not just the ones that are obvious and the ones that ask for help, they are standing next to us everywhere.
              I know one day I will be much happier with who I am, with my accomplishments, my hard work, with much perseverance. The world may have been pulled from up under us but it will never pull us away from each other. I’m ok with who I am, an who I strive to become, I’m even aware an ok with what others think I should be.                                      I will no longer be shame driven by the fact to the normal people I am oddly inappropriate at times an even on my best behavior. 

                     I’m just a little flamboyantly chipper, an that of course is what I stick out an draw attention to myself, at least I draw something well. I get the phrase “you ought to” a lot, the room of good intentions, where I make unintentional attempts to be better, really just showing.  

                   I am often full of unanswerless questions, I betray my oneself with trying to Look better. Like I got them really fooled thinking I need to better to be better…. Makes no sense.      

               Like the mountain, our lives need to be observed at a distance. To take any one moment and say it defines who I am is to diminish the whole of me, the greatness and complexity of all that I’ve been and will become. 

              You see, my life only becomes a tragedy when someone else chooses to frame it that way. And that is objectifying toward me and people like me and I will explain to you why I feel that way.
So I need to declutter–to downsize what I am and what I do. Because right now, things are kind of a mess inside of me and I’m busting at the seams. Sometimes, I can’t find parts of me that I need or want. I’m trying to find a way to internally organize so that I have room for myself

  Hindsight burns my eyes. 

Knowledge is power, power is knowledge.


     I’ve always been a pretty passionate person along with being bipolar and having adhd my train of thought is derailed quite ofte. While my girls constantly encourage me to most, importantly never stop and secondly to keep thinking differently than every time prior so I may do my best to Keep my sanity in an among the fabric of what is my reality. I can fill a page full with nonsensical words that could stab a persons eyes out.   

                So it’s definitely safe to say my girls have given me so many many many precious gifts. And I know it sounds cliche…but I’ve learned so much more than just about parenting. I’ve become a better human being. I’ve always felt to have had some sort of a lost soul to some extent of the meaning, because my mind does wander whole lot of the time making It a constant struggle just to be myself, but does that mean I’m truly really lost? Or is it just that we all as human beings who feel lost at some point, or another and in reality not all things have to be in order at times. Plus how are you supposed to find yourself if you never lose yourself? 

                         So of course in the whole scheme of life; things can be broken, as well as things can be repaired. Unfortunately there is not; however a serum for the pain that radiates through us an echoes throughout our souls. Leaving us to wonder if is it possible to leave behind that hurt and heart break that can rule us if we let it. 

                          Sometimes it helps to consider irrelevant information, to eavesdrop on all the stray associations unfolding in the far reaches of the brain. Occasionally, focus can backfire and make us fixated on the wrong answers. Then we have the consequence of compliance which is emotional truncation, numbness, and isolation. Although we live in an age that worships attention — when we need to work, we force ourselves to concentrate — this approach can inhibit the imagination. 

                          Life is a journey, not a snapshot. We may shift in and out of those categories on our journey. We may intentionally choose not to join one side or the other. We may choose not to be quantified according to another’s standards of functionality. 

                             Acceptance is such a funny thing. Knowing what to accept and what not to accept is not always clear–for any parent or person. 

                              We all want to do remarkable things, and lead remarkable lives.

                            I think that prior to having children, I was really hard on people. I was judgmental and arrogant. Don’t get me wrong, I still fight to suppress the judging monster that rears its ugly head more often than I’d like. But for the most part, I am much more willing to give people a break or the benefit of the doubt. I find myself looking for the good in people and being more understanding of faults. I think this has to do with the fact that I feel like my own (copious) faults and mistakes are magnified by the giant looking glass of parenthood. There is more than enough for me to judge in my own backyard and people cut me a break. They tell me I am good when I feel bad. They tell me that my insecurities, my flaws as a parent, my flaws as a human are okay. They forgive me and they accept me. That is beautiful. And I want my daughters to learn from and be a part of THAT is humanity. Occasional bad days come with the occupation of breathing oxygen on a daily basis and no one is exempt.



    Dr. Stern reminded me of the most fundamental survival technique right now: stay true to you and you will prevail. “I will not use the word victorious,” he stated simply, “because to be a victor, you must engage in battle, and you are far too intelligent and resolute for that. At the end of the day, vengeance brings no joy to one’s life.” Wow.
    Words are powerful things. Frankly, as I embark on the next phase of my life, I am banking on it. For a long time, they broke me. Not anymore. I realized that I am a work in progress some time ago with the intent to always keep growing and changing. I love the written word and the impact it can have. But whether written, spoken or sung, the stringing of words into the messages we intend can break or enhance someone’s spirit.
    So, in the grand scheme of things, what does this all mean? I’ve been over-analyzing it all day to no avail. We are so disconnected, but not misdirected. So quick in passing judgement only destined to be buried in our memories. Some thinking they will live forever, just to die an vain
    I want sincerity in my life and won’t settle for anything less anymore. I am finally realizing that there are others out there just like me. I was just looking in all the wrong places. I was so fixated on saving or proving myself to the uncaring ones that the boats carrying the real deal kept sailing right on by. I was so fixated on the “why am I not good enough” that I think I missed the message that has just been illuminated before my very eyes…true goodness is intimidating, and those willing to embrace it must first possess it themselves.
    Sometimes I do feel like giving up. Throwing my hands in the air and admitting defeat. Not literally, of course, for this life has too much to offer, but mentally. Spiritually. Even physically. Curl into to a ball on my bed, pull the covers over my head and stay for a day. Or two. Or a week. But I don’t. Can’t. Won’t. I have too many people depending on me, most of all myself. The greatest lesson I learned in this life of mine is that I am not a quitter – I am a survivor. A fighter. A believer. In life that the only thing certain is uncertainty, what a cliche’.
    I am a complicated person, but I am not damned to be held down by regret during this lifetime I have been given for the things I have said and written, during times of anger, crisis and even self discovery.
    My present demeanor may be disheveled at times, but my memory is sharp as a tack and always has been. I know emotion is one of my greatest struggles, especially right now when things in my life feel impossible. I think about my past in an attempt to make sense of all the awful feelings of resentment towards my ex in my everyday challenge overcoming the injustices in my life.
    Some people would say be careful how you say it, truthfully i agree and know no one knows the power of words as much as me. . I do, from time to time, stop and take note of all the time I spend thinking about the past or worrying about the future, which makes me stop and consider how much effort I’m giving to the now. Life matters. Im a mother learning to be the best I can at the toughest role I’ve ever known. It is lonely, scary and thankless a lot of the time, but having kids has taught me so much about the world. Like for instance, the world DOES NOT revolve around me (blew my mind)
    Some nights I sit in a haze of mild anxiety. I wonder “What the hell am I doing?
    I’m sick of hiding behind a mask, I’m sick of walking on egg shells. I will keep writing and I will probably get it wrong a few more times yet, but I will not be sitting in a corner.
    I lost my right to be a mother a over a year ago in hinds county chancery court with Judge Denise S Owens based on nothing but down right dirty tactics, false allegations about my parenting ability and slanderous fabricated stories, twisted facts accompanied by complete disregard for personal accountability made by both the father of my child and his attorney I have fought since then to not allow my daughter to be deprived of her mother. All the while constantly being denied my court ordered visitation right, my basic fundamental right as a mother.
    The denial of child visitation rights are most commonly thought of as situations in which a custodial parent blatantly refuses to allow the non-custodial parent to see the child. A typical example of this scenario would be when a mother, who has full custody of her son, refuses to let the son get into his father’s car when his father comes to pick him up for his visitation period. However, visitation rights can also be illegally denied in more subtle ways.
    For example, it is also illegal for a custodial parent to refuse visitation rights on the basis that they don’t like the non-custodial parent’s significant other; the child is sick; the child is visiting relatives; the child is out of town or at another scheduled activity; or for almost any other basis. Further, in cases where there is an emergency just before a scheduled visitation, such as when the child must be taken to the hospital, the noncustodial parent should be notified so that they may visit the child there.
    Not to mention I still have another child at home to care for. Yes, a six-year-old whose own world, by the way, came crashing down with the emotional trauma from losing her baby sister, to remove my youngest from my care, giving custody to the abusive narcissistic father. So that my bright, once happy child now struggles in understanding the why’s.
    Sadly, as I write and post an overwhelming fear is that it will be used against me. Every single step I take I know is scrutinized. Used. I’m afraid to have the wrong brand of milk in the fridge, for surely that can be woven into some type of negligence claim. Not that any of it proves valid, but battle is exhausting. That’s the point. The person with the resolve and the deepest pockets is usually left standing. Exhaust your opponent and they will retreat. I can’t. Won’t. I know this about myself, but it doesn’t mean it isn’t agony. I wish I could shake my pom-poms for you all and send out a cheer for perseverance, but I, too, am human and have dark days.
    I think judgment is a cover-up. For jealousy. Inadequacy. Loathing. If you judge, peel back the layers of it and examine its roots and it’s really about you and it sickens me every time I edit these posts before uploading them – checking for facts, or even thoughts that could be misconstrued or twisted into a weapon to be used when I sit on that stand. I choose my words very carefully. I realized no matter what I do or say, honest or edited, when malice wants, malice gets. I am reeling from another strategic, vindictive maneuver this week awe-struck by the capabilities of true malice. For me, goodness is the absence of malice. But no matter what I say, it still can be twisted for self-serving warfare, but with the hopes it really makes a difference for you in knowing my truths, I will write. That’s why I am here – so I can share my truth!


    We spend too much time trying to figure out what life means and too little time doing the stuff we enjoy. I suppose it’s normal to wonder if the reason you are sick, broke, or miserable is the result of something you did or failed to do. Normal, but a waste of time and energy because I’m going to explain everything and you’ll never have to wonder again.

    Meaning of life

    Learning to accept the total randomness of stuff that happens is difficult. We want it to make sense. We want order. We want this mess we call life to mean something important.

    I’ve put a good bit of thought into why my life keeps falling apart. I know I’m not perfect, but whatever I’ve done wrong, it’s pretty small potatoes in the scheme of things. It’s hard for me to believe, even in my darkest moments I’m so wicked that The Big Guy has in for…

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    Picky Tongues — You have to choose one flavor that your sense of taste will no longer be able to distinguish. Sweet, sour, bitter, salty, umami, spicy (not a taste per se, but we’re generous): which one do you choose to lose?

    Only a healthy young person would suggest I ponder what piece of my sensory apparatus I would prefer to lose.

    I’ve lost both breasts to cancer, my stomach to ulcers. I’ve had my heart redesigned and lost a valve to a replacement while adding a pacemaker so it will keep beating. I’ve lost pieces of bone to remove tumors or calcification … and most of my spine is wrapped in an arthritic tunnel of love.

    Much of the hair on my head — probably as a protest to the surgery and mayhem perpetrated on my body — has fallen out and apparently intends to remain gone this time. (It fell out several times before…

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    Why and who!? I will tell the world I’m grown, bam. What a mess right, YES YOU ARE, an a sad shame all that time you spend judging.

    Story of survival

    What do I believe constitutes a good person, in general what?


    Why did I start this blog ?

    We cannot afford to underestimate the importance and power of our words. The New Testament writer James said that even though the human tongue is a small part of the body, it has the power to make a tremendous impact
    (Jas. 3:1-12).

    In my short lived, life I’ve found that some people actually act as if when they get to heaven God is going to give them a multiple choice exam on Christian doctrine. These people concentrate on definitely understanding the finer points of theology. Believing they are majoring, unfortunately only doing so in the minors. They can tell you everything there is about the problem of evil, but they scorn and smirk even ignore the homeless person, they rob a sinner of his character, taking away his dignity making him…

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