Lost

Her mind was overflowing with thoughts that she couldn’t control. She was so broken and so alone that her eyes were searching while her heart slowly died. Her brain could not comprehend the pain that she felt so it turned to remembering all the times she actually had a real smile. It made her heart not want to move on. It didn’t want to beat anymore because its song would never be the same. The knife was inside and locked tight.

Her eyes searched as much as they could. The people that surrounded her were once people she knew or wanted to know, and now they were strangers she wished she never saw again. She didn’t want excuses nor did she want to start a fight because she KNEW she was not the wrong one. She KNEW that she should get more out of this, but never will. She KNEW she would continue to be beaten over and over again because her brain couldn’t handle the fact that her heart refused to feel and her eyes could not find a single soul that could help.

It was breaking her down to the point where she was lost. She didn’t know who she was anymore. She knew she wasn’t loved by him the way she thought she was and the pressure of not being able to find a home before November was crushing her. The pain she tried to hide made her chest heavy. She couldn’t breathe and she couldn’t speak. She felt like she was nothing. She was gone. The pressure of school and work was also getting to her. She was becoming a former shell of who she once was. Every color disappeared. Hell – she couldn’t even see black and white. She was blind. Blinded by so many emotions and trauma.

“Let me start a blog. Maybe if I write about what I love, I can forget this pain. I can find my escape!” She thought to herself. “I love rainbows! I’ll post the flowers I got and make the site inviting!” She thought of all the things she couldn’t wait to write about. She even wrote that she will be updating her blog every Wednesday – but she didn’t. The blog didn’t save her, and she didn’t understand. She was doing what she loved! She was writing! What was still wrong? The answer: Her core.

The added stress of her grandparents being in Puerto Rico and not having any contact with them was also hurting her. She would cry and cry every night and every morning when she was alone. On the days that she wasn’t alone, she had to just keep it in until the end of the week when she belted it all out. It all came out only so she could get yelled at. She doesn’t feel loved. She doesn’t feel a damn thing…

It sucks when people give their all and it doesn’t seem to work. However, for some reason….she wants to keep going. Her life doesn’t make any sense and she can’t save herself…but maybe she could save someone else…

In staying alive and positive you can become stronger and you can become a better person. Scars will eventually fade. She will wait until the day that hers are gone for good and she could feel again.

I didn’t want it: An Asthma Story

Let me start by saying, I have not written for a while. I haven’t written because there was a storm happening both mentally and physically inside of me. A storm I tried to hide. It started to brew because of insecurities. It started to brew because of anxiety. The pot was boiling and every day doubt and stress was added to the ingredients.

There was a lingering sensation of something…I couldn’t put my finger on it. Like a shadow that wasn’t as friendly as Peter Pans. A taunting entity that was in no mood to play childish games. Something was amiss and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t quite grasp what was happening to me.

As more storm clouds came rolling in, and the thunder lashed out at me from all directions – I was stricken! Attacked by the lightening inside of me. Attacked by the way things fell around me, I was spinning so fast trying to comprehend everything around me – I forgot how to balance. I forgot who I was! I tried everything in my power to kill who I was and in reality I was killing who I am.

My breath stopped! My breath escaped and for that moment that felt like seconds – I saw her! My great grandmother. She watched me and took me into her arms. Tears just running down stream, she patted my head. She told me to forgive myself. To forgive myself for the hate I put inside of me. Forgive myself for the pain I put myself through. Forgive myself for everything negative in my life because it wasn’t my fault nor my place to treat myself the way I did. I stared in awe because she passed away in 2009. Not a lick of English came out of her when she was living so I was in awe that I understood her.

For a moment – a burst of light came to me and I was awake, sobbing once again. My breath escaped me another instant and I was back in nothingness. This time – she wasn’t there. I was alone and somehow so peaceful. I didn’t want it. I didn’t want life. I didn’t want to become a person again. I wanted to stay alone, and I wanted to just float away. Then another burst of air and I was back. I was here in this world. I was awake.

Crying my eyes out – the man I love said “I wasn’t going to let you go.” Over his voice I heard, “No, I wasn’t either…” To me a shock, almost. like a bolt of lightening hit me. I am here. Why? Because I am not finished with my story of who I am.

My asthma is not the best at time, but I will always have my angel with me.

R.I.P. Great Grandma (1914-2009). I love you and miss you! ❤