Loss and Pain go Hand in Hand..

The day I met my youngest daughters father was the day my world stopped spinning and not in a good way. All the trauma I endured I denied it for a very long time.

And to this day I have not been able to master “having it all together” convincing smile. There is no denying a wound even the internal kind. With that said experiencing a loss even if it is not for ever can’t help but change you. When people ask me how I’m doing I think to myself “how the fuck do you think I’m doing?” I am grieving. It definitely does not get easier with time.  I’ve gone through all the stages of grieving 2 or 3 or hell too many to count which included denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance.  The pain of living with out even the simplest of contact with my 4 year old for 2 years. This pain is a physical pain that has reached all the way to my heart and soul.  Smothering me to where I cannot breath and forever scaring it with the memory I will never forget.  A loss will always be a lose, and no amount of time will ever change that.

“God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference”

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.

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

Or

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 focus on his failures, treat him like a non person, shut off all roads to retreat, and he is left being driving to hardness. With those thoughts….

“I started writing because of a terrible feeling of powerlessness: I felt I was drifting and obscure, and I rebelled against that. I didn’t see what I could do to change my condition. I wanted to control rather than be controlled, to ordain rather than be ordained, and to relegate rather than be relegated.”

This sky is green, this grass is blue. I’ll paint this picture and give it all to you.
Reality, my reality. Where Often I am selfish, Often can be absurd and I get
Moods, they swing, just like the seasons change, “You know Not so great at communication It’s the hardest thing for me to do, speaking is no problem and writing helps me to convey it in ways that make sense.

To be a mouthpiece of any kind in these content-saturated times is an enviable and increasingly rare position, and with this privilege ought come certain responsibilities: An artist’s lyrics should honor the reciprocal contract between artist and listener; they should aim to seduce, puzzle, bewitch or oprovoke something in us that reflects our shared human experience. They should say something to us about our lives. But we as listeners and critics must fulfill our end of this bargain, and hold our favorite artists accountable for what they say — and more importantly, what they don’t say.

We expect our parents to raise us, our grandparents to love us, and our brothers and sisters to always be there for us when the chips are down

Maybe give insight to the in between parts saying it ain’t so, saying I don’t know. When I found this place of peace, I smiled and said it was mine to keep.
My time alone is not always merciful. Helps me see the beauty in my pain.