Saturday, January 20, 2018

Dreaming a dream

I once had hope of having a prince charming. I wanted to say that I lost that hope after the stress became so overpowering in my life, but it's not true. Recent development uncovered the first type of panic attacks I had as a child under five years old.

At nine the stress was so rampant that I dreamed of playing a slot machine. Of course, in my dream I won, but the prize was not worth the game. I won three devils in the roll. It was scary for a child who didn't believe in God but had every notion that the devil existed along with evil.

Through it all, the first dreams appeared of a prince charming. My type of prince charming, none of that silly Disney stuff where the prince never went after the girl. Or when he was so silly and made poor choices. I had such an idealistic image of a prince.

My type of prince always held my hand when I needed it the most. It was a strange type of savior though similar to that knight in shining armor who waged through wars for his beloved. And toward the end of my childhood I stopped waiting for a hero. Unlike that song from Bonnie Tyler, I stopped waiting for a hero.

In a life where stress so overpowered my activities. I had one battle to endure everyday against myself. A battle that carried with me into sleep. And little bit little I stopped sleeping normally. Afraid and cautious of dreams turning into reality. The dreams of my prince charming slowly stopped.

The idea someone who would be there to hold my hands when I was scared. To look into my eyes to ask what troubled me. Someone to just understand me. That idea of love disappeared.

I've written about love a lot and still do. Maybe that's why I started dreaming about my prince again. Because deep down through all these experiences this past year, I finally know that my prince is nothing but a dream. Any man that can come close to him, is not going to be perfect. I'm perfectly fine with all that, because sleep becomes more appealing now.

Sunday, December 31, 2017

Celebrating 7 years of crochet

I finished my first crochet project the last week of December in 2011. But I didn't really get into it until April 2012 when for the first time ever I went to church. Crochet has always been that thing I can do well, but not because I actively seek new patterns or new stitches...but because I enjoy it.

I enjoy finding new colors and creating new things. Even if it's the same hat pattern forever and ever. I think I've made close to 200 hats since 2011. I just enjoy crocheting. It’s something to do. It’s better than watching TV, though crocheting while watching TV is super fun.

And though I only enjoy the art of bringing that yarn through the the loops and’s okay. I don’t have to look at new patterns, new yarns, new stitches, new hooks. All I need is one strand, one hook, and an idea in mind to create.

Happy crochet anniversary to me.

Wednesday, December 20, 2017

A Sign of the Times

A friend messaged me that he had gray hair. So I responded that I’ve had gray hair since I was 15. You know, it’s just the way I roll. There’s no sympathy for gray hair. I would call my gray hair pepper gray hair. That awkward stage between a gray head with white specks and a black head with white specks. My hair being black with white specks.

When I first discovered my gray hair I was upset though. And sometimes I forget that. I forget what it’s like to be upset about something for the first time. Or sad about something for the first time. It’s been a real long time since I experienced those types of feelings because I live day to day in a constant state of urgency to get to the next day.

And that’s been tough. What I’m feeling is like PTSD except it’s not because I can’t embrace that I have PTSD. I have such a sour opinion of myself still that I cannot let myself honor my feelings. These feelings that are mine, I’ve just always hid them like a child hides when they break something.

I’m like a child in that regard. If I feel joy, I hide it. If I feel pain, I hide it. When I hurt, I pretend I don’t. When I suffer, I smile more boldly because I don’t give my suffering a chance to know itself. But we need both. I need both. I need to nurture these feelings, FEEL them, and let them heal and grow into strength. Like the jalapeno who becomes spicier when faced against the elements. I too, must harvest the suffering, the joy, the pain, and everything in between to be me.

Sunday, December 17, 2017


Today for the first time in recent memory
I waved at the reflection in the mirror

A low and crackling candle sat on the counter
While I washed my hands

A smile whispered out of the corner of the frame
And my reflection jumped into view

I waved and the smile was meant for

Monday, December 11, 2017

Magical Thoughts

I asked my social worker for a list of Bible quotes regarding waiting. That led to a list of quotes about patience. And upon further reading, the quotes are not a one stop shop for patience nor waiting. But that’s the way any reading is--it’s the blueprint to a deeper meaning. And sometimes that deeper meaning is only accessible with what we interpret around our lives.

The quote coming from the over-quoted passage in 1 Corinthians 13:4-5 about love. Perhaps you’ve heard of love? Love is patient, kind, it does not envy; nor does it boast because it’s not proud. If you read further you will see another over-quoted passage that speaks about growing into adulthood by leaving childish things behind.

Have you associated both passages to the final verse in that section, aka 1 Corinthians 13:13? Paraphrased, Apostle Paul says that as an adult--or a mature being, we are to abide by faith, hope, and love. But of all three the greatest is love.

That’s magical in the child-like sense of leave childish worries aside to leave insecurities and doubt--could we just have faith, hope, and love? What a clandestine thought, if we just held each other in faith. If we just held hope for each other. If we loved each other. Well, if we did all three we’d have a very blessed world.

At its root. If we had faith in ourselves and our personal relationship in Christ. If we had hope in ourselves and our talent, treasure, and time. If we had love for ourselves to know that we are nothing more than clay refined by the flame of our Lord. Yet because we ARE molded by our maker we ARE more than just clay in the earth.

If I could open a box in my mind and be filled with all these magical thoughts. That I could be filled with faith in myself, hope in myself, and love in myself. If I had these, then maybe I’d finally reach the other end of this severe depressive and anxious crisis in my life. Then maybe I’d be magical inside and out. Shining even to myself.

Thursday, November 9, 2017

Running on E

E is for Emergency? Empty. E is for empty like when your tank is empty in the middle of a fake gasoline crisis after Hurricane Harvey. These past few weeks I feel like I’m running on E. It could be that I haven’t had enough sleep. It could be the decrease in Vitamin D from the lack of sun on the streets. It could be stress. It could be that I haven’t been attending church regularly.

Whatever the case. I’m low on specific neurons that keep me bustling around. And I use little things to keep me running. Things like proper meals, chocolate, ice cream, and coffee. Lots and lots of coffee.

It’s not an easy thing to run low. But sometimes I think that if you have the energy to do something, you do it. If you do not have the energy to do something, you still do it. The ends sometimes justify the means. Even if you’re kicking and screaming on the inside.

Or as my sis sometimes says: even if you’re dying on the inside...the last time she employed that phrase it was to say that we’ll never walk a narrow line between paying bills late and getting services discontinued before paying bills late. It’s a fine line.

Maybe a goal needs to be to NOT run on E. Even if I don’t want to, I have to. It’s what I’ve always told myself and maybe I’ve always been wrong. There’s only one way to find out. To gas up before I hit E. To keep up, keeping on.

Saturday, November 4, 2017

Get it done.

Children of the 90s really enjoy a couple of things no other children do. Like high fructose corn syrup, tootsie rolls, Blues Clues, well and then some things like bumper stickers. Remember the age of bumper stickers and key chains sayings. The popular slogan, “Just do it,” motivated the masses. Made a billion dollars for multiple industries and kinda really reinforced a culture of motivational seekers.

Throughout all this phenomena… we’ve forgotten a motivational message that doesn’t not sugar coat things: Get it done or die. It’s clear cut, negative, and fear inducing but it’s the best kind of motivation. Get it done.

How can this motivational message be put into practice? Well, there’s something I’ve kicked around in my head. It’s this question, “how badly do you want something?” You’re going to want it so badly that you’d fight to stay alive for it. That was my answer after regurgitating the question, chewing it up, bring it back up--pretty awful sounding right?

But it got done. I found a insensible answer to an insensible question that felt like my responsibility to answer. It’s a do or die type of world and we’re either doing or dying. Don’t think that some are going to want something bad enough they’ll die for it. Some of us just want to do things so badly we will do them instead of dying.

It’s just something different. And it will be done.