Easter

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family, Health, Life, Novel, quotes, relationships, Religion, sad, Thoughts, writing

The high holy season of the religion into which I was born. While I know the story and I hope we do go to heaven and see those who have gone before us, I can’t say that this season gives me peace. It’s the opposite for me.

My darling Baby Maggie, Maria Magdelena DeLeon, named after her grandmother, was lost to us Easter Monday at twenty-eight precious weeks. She grew wings before I was able to hear her cry.

My tears still come although now I do not turn into a sobbing mess the way I did those first few months, even years after we “lost” her.

In the heaven I believe it, there are no tears, no pain, no fear. I hope one day to see her again but not until I am done here with her sister.

Blessings this season to you and your family!

 

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Differences

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angry, Characters, Creative writing, family, friends, fun, Health, journal, Life, quotes, reading, relationships, Religion, sad, stories, Survival, Thoughts, Women, writing

How you treat others who are different defines who you are!

When you see a person who is a head taller than you, do you stare? If someone in a wheelchair is struggling to open a door, do you help them? Your child comes home and says they “like” a person of a different race, how do you react? The new neighbor has a Ferrari, should you assume they are a snob? Your best friend tells you he decided to quit his job as a lawyer and join a traveling road show, do you think he’s crazy? A co-worker confides in you about questioning their orientation, do you spread rumors? And the man down the street hangs up a confederate flag, how do you react? What if the flag is a rainbow instead?

The old saying, “don’t judge a book…” isn’t just a clever cliche. What’s on the inside is much more important than the leather sleeve or glossy cover.

 

Almost forgot

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angry, Characters, friends, Health, imperfections, inner voices, Life, Mental Health, mental illness, negative, Oddness, sad, stories, Thoughts, Women

write every day

even if it is one for a couple of minutes

write every day

so, here goes

I have these story starts singing in my brain. Sometimes I write them down, maybe even get to a few chapters, then I lose it. Not sure why. Hoping a change in lifestyle habits will change my mood, increase my motivation, and just get me jump started. Move more, eat sensibly, and write write write…

I find that when I’m down, I pick. Literally and figuratively. My fingers find small pimples to pop or dead skin to pluck or I grab the nail clippers and cut as much off as possible or get the pedi-thingamabob and slough off the dead skin on my feet. Something to remove imperfections on my external self. It helps me think. This becomes a way to rid me of the bad. But it doesn’t quiet the voices. They’re always there. Somewhere in the back. Angry, evil, negative, an inner bully that will not ever be completely shut the heck up!

OK, I’m rambling. Sorry, but sometimes I wonder if others have these same issues? Comment if you share this oddness.

A promise

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Art, Characters, Creative writing, critique, dreams, family, fun, genre, Health, journal, kindness, Life, motivation, move, reading, Recovery, relationships, sad, shopping, Survival, Thoughts, Women, write on, writing

i promised myself to write more often, daily if possible

i promised myself i’d eat better, 3 times a day

i promised myself i’d move more, 2 times a day

i promised myself i’d try to be kind to me, 24 times a day

i promised myself to listen more to the good, motivating voices than the bad, bullying voices

i think i’m doing good so far

Life

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Art, Characters, family, friends, Health, journal, Life, relationships, sad, Survival, Thoughts, Women, writing

is a trip. I wish the stops along the way were all places like Disney World.

They say what doesn’t kill you… blah

Well, I may not be dead, but I think I was strong before I went through the crap. Otherwise, I would have given up a long time ago.

I have to learn to enjoy what I have not long for what slipped through my fingers.

I’m sorry

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Creative writing, family, forgive, Health, journal, Life, mental illness, Pain, relationships, sad, self-doubt, self-harm, self-medicating, Thoughts, Women

Please forgive me

Forgive me for not caring enough about myself to be there for you

Forgive me for that day I let him do what he did

Forgive me for feeling so sad I needed something to stop the voices

Forgive me for self-medicating with alcohol and nicotine

Forgive me for self-harming with scissors, odd combinations of legal substances, and overeating

Forgive me for not being healthy during the few weeks you were in my life

Forgive me for not listening to the right voices, real and imaginary, who told me my choices were wrong

Forgive me for not trying again to bring your soul into the world

I know someone called you home

I know you have wings and fly with the others, happy, free of pain

I know that place needed you more than I did

28

28 weeks

28 weeks was not enough

not being able to hear you laugh

not hearing your cry

not feeling your sweet breath on my skin

I want to be happy with what I have

To do that, I need you to forgive me for not being the mommy I wanted to be, the one you needed me to be

I need you to forgive me because I cannot do it myself