“I am not beautiful, I am an eloquent beast. A well mannered monster. A charming barbarian. I will pillage your heart with language so lavishly violent, you will curse me for coming and curse me for going.”
These were some of the ways that I have described myself and emotions over the past twenty years. Some of which stemmed from a long line of trauma filled events, others, a lack of self esteem. But here I am, expressing myself again in a meaningful way for the first time in over a decade.
I put pen to paper for the first time when I was barely eight, maybe nine. The entire landscape of that blank page was mine. It created space for me to climb inside and escape the crazy times. I thank the universe that this is my place to shine. All four of my parents put pressure on my chest while they broke up and down around me. I spoke my every hopeless dream and unspoken secret to the paper because that was the only forsure place I knew would keep it.
Through my teens and twenties, Anxiety mixed with every form of pharmaceutical, legal, and illegal concoction set me back to the stoned age. I have always had an abundance of potential, but I could never figure out a way to let it out after those early years. I always knew that writing was the form of therapy that I needed to regain my life, my focus, my promise, but not asking for help, Isolating myself when you’re hurting, and putting your needs on hold to try to make other peoples visions a reality. I was worthless in my own eyes. And it took until very recently for me to understand how I can let anyone else love me if I do not love myself.
Some of the things I’ve learned in therapy over the past two decades I will be sharing in later Slices of life, but full disclosure; not a damn word of this post has flown like I imagined it would. So, for today , I acknowledge gratefulness that I am here. Writing. Expressing my truths on a platform of this magnitude. I look forward to getting in depth about many topics during this thirty-one day journey, but for tonight. I’m just going to enjoy the subtle sound of the keyboard strokes for the next few hours and declare that no matter how rough around the edges this first cut might be, in this very moment, I am me again.