Goal: 30 Posts In 30 Days.


I have decided to set a new goal for myself for the next month partly because I want to know if I will be able to accomplish my goal, and partly because I want to put more energy and time into creating content that I love. This blog was originally created to document my life and life experience. While I do that sometimes when I actually take the time to write and to post, to take pictures and to share them. I wish that I did that more often and made it more of a priority in life. The documenting process and the creating process. It is and always will be such a passion of mine. I just have all of these ideas that I want to create and to share. I feel so inspired to be creative, but the best part of it is there is this new fire inside of me one that is telling me to just be myself and to share myself and to love myself, and that no matter what the world may think about these next 30 post I should fill them with love and with care. 

My dream is that in 30 years when my life is completely different when I have lived more, experienced more, made more friends, obtained more wisdom. I will have this space to look back on. That I can reflect on, and see the change and the growth in my life. I want to be able to read the words of my 23-year-old self-confused but burning with passion over the things that I wish to one day be able to help change in this world. I hope and have faith that I will continue to grow and these obstacles these goals these dreams will all be things that I attempted. Words that I spoke. Causes that I stood up against. I hope that when I read these words they will fill me with power. That power stemming from my fight the fight that I feel like I have been fighting for so long. This fight that I am not yet ready to give up on.

You see I have failed. Over and over what feels like a thousand times. I have made all the worst decisions time and time again. I have a dark past. Mainly colored by the self-hate that I painted it with. I hated myself. I hated the world. I hated just about everything. I am not really sure what kept me holding on for all those years what really kept me alive. I now know that it was God but in those moments. In those lows that are too low to even humanly explain. I had no real thoughts or emotions. I looked forward to nothing.


I remember one night, in particular, It was summer so there was no school. I felt alone. I felt board. I felt misunderstood. I was making all the wrong choices. I was full of so much bitterness over the past so much hurt. So much confusion. My room was colorful. I had a hot pink wall a brown wall and a black wall. I know sort of extreme. I was always a mess. Things scattered everywhere. My walls were covered in art some of my own some from other people. All things that inspired me and made me happy; quotes photos just random things. I had instruments everywhere. A Papasan chair, dream catchers, a closet comprised of patterned randomness. A slow dinosaur of a computer that I loved too much. Books everywhere, too many notebooks to every reasonably be able to use. This particular summer night that I am thinking about I was manic. At the time I had no idea what that was I just knew I was full of energy, but the bad kind of energy the type  I just wanted to stop. I couldn’t sleep I did not need sleep. I felt invincible. I was so high, not on drugs though on mania. I could just go and go and go for what felt like an eternity. This night, however, was different I felt more empty than ever before. I hadn’t spoken to my dad in God knows how long. My relationship with my Mom and Stepdad was suffering. I felt this hole inside of myself. I was frighteningly empty. I spent the entirety of the beautiful day in my room. I turned off my phone, but I knew that no one would care. I had already distanced myself heavily from my friends. My life lacked depth in relationships. I was wearing tattered shorts and a tattered tank top I had this problem with letting go of clothes it always felt impossible I would fall in love with them. Bare-faced with a messy bun like most days. Arms covered in bracelets differing in style and color. I was thin I think the thinnest I had ever been. I read for a while I wrote for a while I listened to music, I cleaned. I Limewired some music, and then I just laid on my floor with the window open listening to the laughs and screams of kids playing in the sprinkler outside, I listened to cars drive by people casually conversing as they took their afternoon walks, and I laid there watching the day turn into night. Daylight slowly leaving my room, my playlist went on forever. I didn’t get up to eat I didn’t get up to drink I just laid there. That was the first time I ever thought about not being alive, about maybe getting out of what seemed like hell. I did not know another way. Nothing made me feel numb for long enough. I laid there and in my head created a list of all the reason I should disappear I didn’t think of killing myself but of just vanishing. The list was painfully long. It was late. I was in tears. The stars were out. The lights from the field across the street were shining through my bedroom window. The smell of summer had taken over my room. I set up. Looked on my computer it was 2 in the morning.


Something possessed me to look through my old pictures at the time I called it random now I call it God. I have always loved photography. I looked through my old life. The life when I was happy when I was outgoing. When I had friends. When I wasn’t so sick. I then cried harder than before. I used to write stories with my pictures like a journal I would keep them in powerpoint. Reading my descriptive words of joy and happiness broke my heart. I looked in my mirror and asked myself out loud  “who are you” I was everything I never wanted to be, and I did not even know how I became her. Moved to make another list this time of all the reasons I should live. The list was painfully long. I couldn’t hold back the tears they consumed me. I still have that list. I have never had the courage to share it with others that night that list it moved me to fight. That was the day I stopped hating me so much. I wonder if my recklessness was just me crying out for help. But I decided in that moment to stop crying out the only one who could hear me was me. And the only who could fix this mess of a life was me. In that moment I started fighting for my life. Time went on. I put all my weight on God because he was the only one who could hold me up. I was still full of troubles and heartache confusion, bitterness and fear, I was by no means healed per say but I for the first time in a long time was trying. The one thing that made me feel at peace was creativity, painting, drawing, writing, reading, dancing, making clothes, music. It is what always made everything alright it calmed the awfulness in my head all the self-destructing thoughts stopped when I was creating I feel like in those moments I was at peace.

These are the moments the stories the feelings that I want to share. I believe that through my pain I have been able to not only draw power. The power to live and to fight but to also create beauty. A sort of beauty that emerged from all of my darkness.

I am not sure if in these next thirty days I will share as much of myself like I just did these types of posts are hard. I never know how they will be received. I couldn’t even imagine criticism over my pain or the fact that I am sharing it, but since changing this blog and the fact that I will soon be asking you guys to share your hearts and depth in life with me. I was moved to do just that. And hope to continue to share these moments these thoughts and the way that I found the light out of the darkness I allowed myself to live comfortably in for so long.


Dear, whoever I love you. You are beautiful. You matter. I hope you have an incredible week ❤



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