From me to them: #2

‘”What is a curse?”
Say I were to ask a child this simple question, my instincts predict that they would describe a curse as some sort of a wicked spell cast out by a witch and  put upon a human or fuzzy caterpillar that wouldn’t give the secret key to the Ways of the World.
On any given day, I’d honestly say something similar if I was asked the same question. Today was different, though. I’m nearly two weeks into my 17th year of life, and every single day I still reminisce the very dark days of my past despite the fact that I have felt great for a while now, aside from the almost-daily panic attacks. Within the last year I have taught myself to see the beauty in the little things; what colors compliment my own eyes, learning how to let someone in when I need help, seeing the way sunshine really does make days a little bit better.
Today I was overcome by something…repulsive. I’ve struggled with self-image/self-love issues for several years now. My journey of self-love is very much “3 steps forward and 1 back”. And today, a mild, undisturbed, summer day, I stumbled back. The feet that silently pace the vast floor in my mind with grace where brought to a hault; and something in my heart was uprooted and resurfaced. I suddenly could taste it, see it in my mind’s eye.
I’m young, I’m moderately feminine, and I look at myself too many times to count each day. I gazed into a hand-held mirror today. And…I don’t even remember why I did, I don’t remember what I was even checking for. But I didn’t hesitate to direct my eyes and my attention to that cold, dangerous, little circle and gaze into what I’d like to call, Myself. Upon looking in the mirror, I captured that mental image of my face, and it burned itself in my mind, and I thought about what I saw for a while. As much as I would enjoy saying something uplifting like, maybe I admired what I saw and I’m proud of what I become, unfortunately I cannot. At this point in my life, I saw…I saw the representation of my own curse. That’s why I mentioned earlier what we presume curses to be. Curses can be pretty, and they can be coped with, and they can be blessings. But they are also just as capable to be burdens, and killers, and igniters. And fed flames don’t build, they destroy. I see curses as natural. And in some ways, we as human bestow them upon ourselves based on the choices we make in life, or the paths we trip into and are forced to trek down.
Back to the mirror and what I felt. My Curse, one of many, wiggled, and flared, and escaped from it’s jar that has been buried and forgetfully nurtured within my heart. As I sat pondering that mental image of Myself today, I didn’t see me. I saw the Curse. All I could see was how full my face is. I began having flashbacks to weeks ago, months ago, and my face was thinner then; I know it was. I can feel it. I know that feeling this way is wrong and I know it is not safe. And today a war started; a war between Right and Wrong, Her and I. Who’ll win, I’ll have to find out for Myself.

Hands.

BeFunky Design


Hollow breath and numb palms,
I’m pacing here,
I took the keys and the world.
I’ve got it right here in my hands, this life.
A cliff at my feet and no fear.

The one you love the most is the one who knows exactly where the door is
And knows exactly where it leads.
I wasn’t supposed to go like this,
Right?
I’ve got it right here in my hands, this life.

Dares are promises someone else couldn’t keep.
Someone weak
Someone sober.
Right?
I’ve got it right here in my hands, this life.

It’s funny, how you took everything I had and
You didn’t even have to the decency to ask me to go
You told me.
But we all say things we don’t mean,
Right, love?

One square shove in the shoulders sent me into
This eternal pirouette with my eyes closed and my soul gaping open and screaming…
I cradle her right here in my hands, this life.
There is something so beautiful and dangerous about letting her fly that just feels so
Right.


Image created by Me.

From me to them: #1

BeFunky Design



This is the internet. People will see this, people that I don’t know and people that don’t care. That’s okay though, writing is how I release things, much like many other millennials.



It’s 12:11am. I’m someone who doesn’t sleep much. I’ve been away from home for roughly two weeks now and almost every one of the nights I’ve been awake until somewhere between 2 and 4am. Like I’ve previously said countless times, and will continue to, I have severe anxiety. It’s been controlling my actions for these two weeks (more than usual). I can’t sleep. When I do, my dreams are terrible. I’m not much a dreamer really, but when I am it’s horrible. The feeling my dreams give is like…drowning in clouds. Can you imagine that?

High
Lost
Alone
Enveloped in oxygen
Drowning?

I cope with pyrophobia (the fear of fire and excessive heat) as well. The worst of my dreams usually depict  me being trapped in a burning house. About 4 years ago around the age of 13 I began to cry in my sleep regularly, say, 4 times a week. I wake up having heavy, uneven, burning breathing pattern that crying causes, and of course tears. Dreams cause it, other times not. It’s just part of the anxiety. It stinks warning everyone if I stay there after a long Friday…“Don’t be alarmed dude. I cry in my sleep.” Or what’s the worst is, well let me just explain first. Most of the time, I spend weekends with a core group of friends out of town. It’s a diverse group, and most times a good twelve of us end up under a roof, all from different schools (yeah, her momma’s got a big ass house, lot’s of cabinet space, lots of cereal). So the worst is when I doze off, begin to slumber-sob, and someone, say from a different school, that I ended up with due to our common friend, urges me up frantically with that “what-the-hell-are-you-okay-or-just-weird?” look in their eye and I wake up and realize immediately what’s happening and casually pull that “Dude don’t be alarmed. I cry in my sleep.” card. So…yep. Crying in sleep = chick magnet.

12:33am

Image above created by Me.

Roll on, Young One.

To those that have taken the time to snoop my “About Me” section on this blog, you may (or may not have) noticed the mentioning of my chair. If you haven’t, well, now you know. And to those who know me, you’ll know exactly what I’m talking about here.

I received some VERY EXCITING news today. My 17th birthday is in 11 days, June 12th. And today I found out my new chair will be delivered!! I’ve been waiting for about 9 months..and trust me, the newbie is long overdue.

The reason I need my chair is something very few people know. There’s only about 5 friends that I’ve thoroughly explained it to, and even they will never fully understand. Honestly, not even doctors fully understand. It’s not that I don’t trust my friends with the information, it’s simply that I will never let my disease be a label. The disease I have is extremely common but I have a very mild case of it. Think of it as I “barely have it”. 7 years ago, I had spine surgery that left me in a wheelchair. Before the operation, I could technically walk, but not comfortably, safely, or for long distances without falling. After the surgery, I remained bed-bound in the hospital for about a week until I returned home and was couch-bound for a couple months. I was put in physical therapy 4 days a week, 2 hours each session. The expected outcome of the surgery I had was to walk on my own. Obviously that didn’t work out. There were benefits, though. Benefits that I won’t mention. Just know there were some. The therapy was INTENSE. I was 10 years old and didn’t fully understand what was happening to my body. I fell into a horrible state of depression and my body shut down. After about 6 months of therapy, my therapists and parents realized the situation was harming me more than it was helping.

Along came Esther. (:

Esther is my chair. Yes I named it. People name their cars all the time. Same thing right?

A common misconception people have when we meet is that I cannot walk at all or that I’m paralyzed.

BOTH OF THESE ARE 1,000% FALSE!!

I’m on my feet a little every day. I take the stairs every once in a while if I have someone with me just in case God forbid I fell or something. I have full feeling in all parts of my body (yes even my legs).

I would honestly call Esther my best friend. No one will ever understand my emotional attachment to my chair. Esther is my way of life. She’s a ladder, a footstool. I have anxiety when my chair’s in another room. When someone sits in it without asking I want to flatten their car tires. Nothing comes between Esther and myself. So when I heard today that my new one was coming in, my first thought was, I wonder how I’ll respond emotionally? I’m expecting to cry. It’ll be tears of joy. Again, something y’all wouldn’t understand. Despite how happy I’ll be, it will be strange/hard letting Esther go. It’s the only chair I’ve ever had, yeah she’s falling apart and my body has outgrown her, but..it’s just the emotional attachment.

Esther’s been through so much in the passed 7 years. I’m so thankful. Hopefully this new one will help me make countless more memories.

This is Esther and myself…
(She’s also a decent shoulder to lean on)

 

IMG_20170601_192308

As I mentioned before, being thrusted into so many drastic changes in regards to my body and lifestyle sent me into a depressional state that lasted for years that followed and still affects me today. I just want to say though, if you are someone living with things that aren’t the societal norm, it’s okay! Although it may be hard, and people are inconsiderate, you are human. And humanity is a beautiful thing…it’s all about the complex simplicity of individuality. There is little in life anyone deserves to be ashamed of; especially any way that they carry themselves, whether that be by your choice or nature’s choice. We all follow the man-made roads that connect us all, but few are brave enough to stray and be different. When given the option, take the alley everyone else is too scared of.

 

Photo provided by Me.

Spark

Goodbye to me
Goodbye to you.
And goodbye to those in between.
Tears
Laughs
Choices.
There were so many things,
Among a lack things,
Like
Regrets
Enemies
Unsaid words.
I gave it all.
They accepted,
Everything.
Me
You
And all those in between.
This night is new
Fire replenished,
Unknown
Intriguing
Incorporeal.
There’s a light at the end of the tunnel.