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.
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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
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.
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 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
make for better conversation
a lyric that rings in my ears from time to time.
sometimes it’s the scars you don’t see that make a lasting impression on the soul
yet no one else can see them
no one else can sense how deep they truly go
or how to heal them