“Sometimes we need to focus on something greater than ourselves, to give us a purpose in life.” ~M
Photo credit: Pixabay.com
Photo credit: Pixabay.com
At the beginning of this year, I finally decided that I couldn’t keep going like I was, and so I asked my doctor to put me on anti-depressants. I’d gone all 46 years of my life without them and felt weak for having to ask for them. I have always tried to do everything on my own, and even to this day, I hate asking for help. My anger is what usually fuels my motivation when I’m left having to do something that seems overwhelmingly hard. And rather than ask for help, I usually just use all that built up negative energy and say a slew of cuss words to complete those difficult tasks.
I think this incessant need to do everything on my own, comes from the way I was raised. I was always made to feel guilty when asking for anything as a child. I would get reprimanded when even asking for the simplest of things. And so I learned how to do most everything on my own. This way of being raised had its benefits in many ways. I think I am a much more self-sufficient person because of it and I never give up on anything.
I think if I had to choose one word to describe me, it would be “determined.” But sometimes, I feel like I just want someone else to take care of me for a change. I would love to have someone there to help me, without me even having to ask. To say to me, “That’s enough; you’ve done plenty; let me help you.” And I want to feel like I can say yes to that, and accept their help.
I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to change. I’m getting older and more set in my ways. I’m just plain stubborn most of the time, and my girls would agree. They see how irritated I get and how I try not to ask for help. It usually takes breaking something, for me to finally give in and let them help me. Usually, it’s me that gets broken because of the stupid things I try to do without help. And of course, it doesn’t seem to stop me the very next time, from repeating the same act of stupidity. I guess that’s what stubborn people do. We’re a glutton for punishment.
I just ended the anti-depressants yesterday. They seemed to help at first, but then after several weeks, I started feeling anxious all the time, extremely restless, and shaky. My doctor slowly decreased my dose over the last week, and I do feel more like my old self again. I have mixed emotions though. I really did feel better for about the first three weeks, and I’m trying to figure out why I started to feel so bad the longer that I took them.
I still feel like I need to do something to control what I believe to be depression, but I’m not sure what to do to help myself. I think journaling is the best thing that I can continue to do for now. At least until I find a better way to help myself. I’d love to have someone to talk to. Everyone always talks about having a therapist, but I have never had one. I suppose that’s a luxury that I will never have. If my insurance covered that sort of thing, I would see a therapist in a heartbeat, but unfortunately, it doesn’t, and so I have to keep on sorting things out for myself. Anyway, I feel like I’m starting to ramble, so I’ll end this for today. Thanks for reading. ~M
What inspires you?
This is the thought running through my mind today as it’s been nearly a month now since I’ve had any inspiration to do much of anything. It’s as if a light switch has been turned off inside my brain and I almost feel as if all of my emotions have left me. I think it’s very difficult for a writer to write anything when they feel emotionless. Especially as a poet, we live for emotions and all the wonderful words that spill out of hearts and minds. I think I’ve shut off a lot of my emotions because it somehow seems easier that way. I’ve also found myself pulling away from people more often. There are a few who I still let in, but for the most part, I don’t really share what’s going on in my life. As I get older, there seems to be so much more drama, and I suppose I’ve been feeling the need to sort of rid myself from all of that. I call it self-preservation, and I know it’s simply necessary at times.
I don’t feel in any way like I am suffering from depression, even though it may look that way to outsiders. I’m actually feeling very content right now, just to be alone and to reevaluate my life. I’ve been homeschooling my girls for 12 years, and even though I love the time I have with them, I still miss my career in Biotechnology more than ever. It’s hard being a mom sometimes. I’m pulled in so many different directions. I’m often not sure which path to take, but I always try to put my girls first in every long-term decision that I make. And yet now that they’re getting older, and my two oldest daughters are married and starting lives of their own, I’m finally taking the time to consider what I want for a change.
I really want to work outside the home again. I honestly miss my 60 hour work weeks because I truly did love my job, and I’d like to find another job that I can enjoy just as much. I’ve recently enrolled back in school, and at 46, I think I’m one of the oldest students in my class. But it matters not, I’m determined to start a second career even at my age. This time around I’m pursuing a degree in digital media and web design. I’ve been saying for years that I wanted to get into web design but didn’t think I could afford the cost of school. After checking into it though, I found out that I qualified for government grants, and I also applied for a scholarship. And between the two, I haven’t had to pay a dime. So now I sit here wondering why I waited so long to take the plunge and I’m practically kicking myself for not doing it sooner.
The good thing is, I’m doing it now, and I’ve got to stop looking back and just keep moving forward. I feel as if time is running out in some respects. It’s almost like there’s this invisible force pushing me along, telling me to hurry up before it’s too late. Sometimes it helps me to get away and quiet myself for a few days, and so I’m currently sitting all alone in a lovely cottage in the woods. It’s absolutely beautiful here, and I’m finding that this is probably the first inspiring day I’ve had in a very long time. The sun is shining through my window, and I’m so thankful to have this time to reflect and hopefully turn the light switch to inspiration back on. I’ve got three more days here to figure out how to do just that and determination is starting to settle in. It’s blessings like these that keep me going. I hope all of you are having a very blessed week as well and I’d like to know, what inspires you? ~M xo
Photo credit: pixabay.com
There has been such a good response with this month’s writing prompts, that I’ve decided to continue creating these on a monthly basis. I was blown away by those of you who participated. Your poems, stories, thoughts, and ideas were so creative and thoroughly enjoyable. I want to give special mention to Dorinda Duclos, over at Night Owl Poetry. She exceeded my expectations by completing every single prompt for September and spurred me on in the process. So thank you Dorinda! You completely amaze me by your determination and dedication, especially with all you’ve been going through. Love you so much! And without further ado, here’s the list of the amazing participants who are all incredibly gifted and talented writers. Please take some time to visit their websites and get to know these wonderful bloggers. Oh, and if I missed adding someone, please leave me a comment and let me know. ~M
Links of participating prompt writers:
Day 1 – I tried to say goodbye
Night Owl Poetry – https://dorindaduclos.com/2017/09/01/i-tried-to-say-goodbye-poetry/
Afterwards – https://afterwards.blog/2017/09/02/mans-best-friend/
Sweet Aroma – https://onetahayes.com/2017/09/01/wasnt-worth-it/
Emerging Destiny – http://emergingdestiny.com/2017/09/25/i-tried-to-say-goodbye/
Photo credit: pixabay.com
The continuing story… Part 1 can be found, here.
Weak and weary from her merciless ordeal, Scarlett mustered up enough strength to explore her whereabouts. As exhausted as she felt, she knew she wouldn’t survive if she just stayed where she was. Earlier that day, she had been carelessly tossed into the icy waters, by a man whom she thought she could trust. He was someone she had swooned over, for the majority of her young adult life. Eventually, she discovered a scandalous side of him, which in the end made her disposable. She had never been a very strong swimmer, and the frigid waters nearly took her breath away. After almost drowning from the undertow, she somehow managed to escape the forceful current, before it had a chance to overpower her completely. The sandy beach was deserted, and from first glance, the island seemed to be uninhabited. Although she had heard rumors of headhunters settling on islands like these, she tried to keep her mind focused on her current predicament, and not assume the worst.
To be continued… Part 3 can be found here.
Photo credit: myfacebookdp.blogspot.com
An ominous sky overshadowed her petite pale frame, as auburn strands of salty wet tresses held fast to her cold wet skin. Her thin white cotton dress clung to her body and revealed her emaciated figure. She sat motionless on the rocky precipice, with her scraped knees tucked up under her chin and her listless arms wrapped around her bruised legs. She shivered as the waves descended upon her frail form and braced herself each time the saltwater flowed freely over her superficial wounds. Determined not to shed a single tear for his benefit, she faced the onslaught of breakers, and let the raging sea carry away her disparaging thoughts. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that he had humiliated and crushed her unadulterated spirit. Instead, she would make him pay dearly for his cruel behavior; only just as soon as she could find a way to escape the godforsaken island, where he had so nonchalantly discarded her, like a useless piece of rubbish.
To be continued… Part 2 can be found here.
*Bringing back a story that had fallen by the wayside. Enjoy!
Photo credit: myfacebookdp.blogspot.com
Where to begin… I really have no idea what to write about. Everything I’d been considering earlier, sounded so much better as I was standing in the shower this morning. However, I do think that this quote sort of sums things up for me today. It’s too bad all of the muck in my life, couldn’t have somehow broken free and lost its way down that drain. No matter what I do, the problems and issues I’m currently facing, just never seem to go away. I suppose I feel that I have come to a place in my life, of complete discontent and unhappiness. So much so, that I have been trying to find happiness in all the wrong places and have set myself up for failure during the process. Backtracking is the hardest thing of all, because once we move forward, we can never seem to go back the same way we came. True the saying goes… nothing ventured, nothing gained. But then again, I think I’ve been testing the fire with my bare hands, and now I’m paying the price for that. Life… does it ever get any easier? Sigh…
Quote found at: pinterest.com
He looked over at his alarm clock and groaned; 5:00 a.m. was way too early for a regular person to be up, let alone someone who just happened to be missing both of his legs. He slowly propped himself up against his pillows and maneuvered his body so that he was facing the left side of the bed. An old tattered wheelchair sat just inches away. With a heavy sigh, he used his muscular arms to lift his entire body off of the bed. He hovered for a second over the wheelchair, being careful to center his body over the seat. With a grunt, and a few other choice words, he lowered himself into the chair and began the process of fastening the straps so that he wouldn’t accidentally fall out. Once he was strapped in, he reached for his artificial legs. They were heavy, and even though he had gained most of his strength back in his arms, he was still a bit clumsy when trying to attach them to what was left of his real legs. One at a time, he attached the artificial legs. First came the protective cloth which protected his legs from rubbing against the hard plastic base. Next came the numerous adjustments and straps to set everything into place so that he was sure he wouldn’t fall over once he attempted to stand. The clock read 6:00 a.m. He was finally ready to attempt to stand. He planted both artificial legs firmly into the carpet and grabbed the arms of his wheelchair with a firm grasp. The pain was intense at first. He held his breath to try to fight back the searing pain. His eyes began to water as he tried to stand. Once he was fully standing, he felt dizzy and fought the urge to slouch back down into his wheelchair. His determination did not waver though and he tried with all his might to take just one tiny step. This morning was not going to be easy though, because as he took that first step, the rest of his body seemed to have other plans for him. He immediately lost his balance and fell to the floor with a loud thud. Tears stung his eyes and he cussed under his breath. He laid on the floor for a while, trying to regain his strength. He heaved his heavy body off the floor using all the strength he could surmise and proceeded to grab for his wheelchair once again. It was now 7:00 a.m.