I remember the time I was struck with insecurities about who I am.
How I couldn’t explain what I want to do, or who I want to be.
I remember being stuck…
Putting myself down…
After I was done doing a bad job at explaining my interests, I then immediately thought, wow, that’s stupid. What you want is not a thing.
You won’t get anywhere with that. Who does that? You’ve done nothing for yourself to get the unimaginable dream you want to come true.
And as I began to crush my dreams next to tangible accomplishments of the ones around me, I began to shrink. Shrink so small that I couldn’t see myself anymore. I saw myself in the muck and oil of my current state. I began to grab my aching back and bruised arms, rub the pain from my wrist, and throw up blood from the anxiety and the depression.
Then I thought, a hope so big brings people bed ridden for dead back to life. A hope that opens closed eyes and ears. A hope of power that flows and pumps blood to my heart every time. The one time I feel a touch of happiness is when I create something.
While my suffering heart feels myself floating and dispersing into the sea of forgotten faces of capitalistic tendencies, I remember, my dreams is what brought me back to life after my soul left my body..and into an oblivion I went…drowning in fear and regret, I thought I was nothing, but my dreams made me feel something. While my body and soul unite again it’s because of my pencil and my pen.
I remember why my heart started to beat and the oxygen came back into my lungs.
I created something.
Thats what I do.
I’m a motivator for life.
Living is my motto.
I remember I was struck with insecurities about who I am, then I thought one more time…I create to give back the life of those whos bodies have left their souls.
I came to give back hope
This is a letter from the one that kills herself trying to be the best because shes always been in the shadows.
The second best.
The girl whos been rejected.
The girl who developed anxiety because she overcompensates and overdoes it.
The one who was so tedious in her actions that she gets nervous when shes not perfect.
The one who got up extra early to be on time but all she gained from that was loss of sleep.
The one who stood up all night studying and skipped breakfast.
The one who raised her hand every class.
The one who was the weakest link.
The one who couldn’t go to graduate school.
The one whos mental illnesses crippled her to mental paralysis. Dark. In a daze. She just wanted to be...the best.
The best is an illusion. The best is fake. The best is a lie. No one is the best. Everyone has talents. Everyone is really good at some things, and not so good in others. You have something about you thats great. That doesn’t make you better, or the best, it makes you who you are.
Get rid of the notion that you need to be the best. The best is a disease. Take your time. Go slow. Find yourself. You’ll then realize the best is already in you.
Create a masterpiece in your dark place. Make something amazing in your sorrows. Be creative in your struggles. Those are your best pieces of art.
When your mind is in darkness is the best canvas to create something powerful.
Part 2 because it all started with a cash register…
This is about a cash register and how the dinging of the change in the drawers became dinging in my head as I saw too many people coming and asking too many questions about the same things.
This is about a cash register and how the cash button on the screen makes the drawer bash into my stomach where insanity was brewing.
This is about a cash register and how all the bills would pile up and I would just count them but the numbers always go over. They spill over.
This is about a cash register and how slowly I would make up in my head all the things that could go wrong and the questions I don’t have answers too, a dark room is created.
The cash register.
I stand there, all day. I have no where to go so I stand…at the cash register.
The questions. All the questions.
The people. All the people.
The fear. All the anxiety, it just fills my stomach with a monster. A little monster.
Empathy is more than feeling the struggles of others. Empathy is a connection and a bond between those who feel empathy and those that empathy is acted upon. Empathy can be painful as well as fulfilling as it builds the awareness of the empath to open their perspective to the suffering and also happiness of those who do not share the same life and experiences as their own. Empathy means to understand and be aware of the spaces, people, and circumstances that surround them. Empathy is a heightened sense of self and self-awareness. Empathy is feeling, knowing energies, and having the ability to identify and console the hurt and pain as well as acknowledge and appreciate the happiness of people and environments.
Surface even at your lowest point. Surface when everything is caving in. Surface because there is no where to go but up, toward the surface. Where power is, and opportunity. Go to where there is healing.
She is becoming and no one can stop her progress. She is transforming, becoming something more than she ever imagined. Like the butterfly, she built her cocoon, but before anyone could realize how long shes been away, she broke out, starting from her mind, her old ways shedding like a snake’s scales, away and left like old news. She is becoming. She has made herself into something great. From the scars of her psyche, to the bruises pounding her heart, she made it. Althought she wanted to sit and enjoy the evergreens of complacency, she got up, and there she started her process…of becoming.
I saw myself change in a matter of a year. The transformation drastic. I can recognize who I am now, when before it was blurry. With the change came progress and opportunities. With opportunities came decisions. As I sit between my past and my future, I can’t help to see the beauty in the collision between the darkness and the light. I still have what I was in me, but as I grow farther from it, I see the lesson, and that lesson is the mist. The light is waiting to take over the rest.
It’s been a difficult few weeks and I find myself getting more and more discouraged so this letter is to me from me with love, affection, power, and strength.
Hey girl! I see you struggling and I know you’re starting to doubt yourself again. I see you starting to not believe in how much you worked and how much you sacrificed to be in the place you’re in now. I see that you’re starting to feel like you aren’t good enough and that you wasted your time in the classroom. I see that you feel invisible and unattractive. I see that you feel trapped, unskilled, and untalented. I see that you feel ashamed that you struggle mentally and you often wonder how it would feel to be “normal” and unafraid of the strains of every day. I see that it takes so much work just to be happy that a new day has come because you feel like you should be successful with opportunity, strength, and power.
But I also see that you gained more strength I’ve ever seen you have before. That you try your hardest and prove to yourself every day that it’s possible to, despite the struggle, regain consciousness of the reality of hope and positivity. And even though things have been difficult, you still seem to always persevere, you seem to always push through. Every obstacle that has come in your way since you were young has never devoured you. When you were grappling with your mental health in high school and college, you always made it past the panic and the tears. You always showed up and showed out even when you didn’t want to. When you didn’t have motivation, when you didn’t want to go to the counseling center or psych services you did. When they took away your financial aid and you almost didn’t go to college things turned around. When you were called weak and told you were unable to reach the standards of your major in high school, you showed that you were, you were tossed from one choir to another, but you still showed that you were good enough. When you were on conditional in a program you wanted to be in so bad, you made that conditional a permanent. And all the times you were outcasted and alone, when you were by yourself you always sparkled with power, self-control, and self-respect. This is not even half of the things you struggle with, but its shows a lot about how much you’ve overcome.
You are beautiful, worthy, and strong. Only strength can endure all that you have gone through and still have the courage to want to tell other people that they can do anything despite the world telling them that they can’t because of their gender, beliefs, sexuality, or any other identity marker that makes them who they are. You are okay and you will continue to be okay. Just take deep breaths and raise your head. Your life is not for no reason. You have a reason to keep trying to do your best.
From the one that loves you the most,
So, even though it may seem blurry right now and you don’t want to be positive, try to be kind to yourself. Always be kind to yourself. Turn the negative self-talk phrases into encouraging ones. Make your perception light, even if your circumstance is dark and smudged. Even when you have all the reasons to be hopeless, let hope blossom instead.