Dig Deeper

I ask myself daily, sometimes hourly.  What can I do to improve my character, perhaps I have to look within in order to change.  Most times I do.  I had my first ever adult AHA moment, that we hear a lot about.  I did not know what this meant years ago, thinking an AHA moment, was some magical gift.  Actually what I found that it is and was for me, is being open for change.  My AHA moment was a great understanding that I had to and still have to work on me, my character.  Of course with out being a people pleaser.  If anything be true to you, but I now believe everyone may need just a little more adjusting, a little more inner work and a little more room to grow.  Instead of pointing fault or fingers at everyone, which I have done...Dig Deeper!  Having a Son, has taught me this.  Drama, Drama, Drama out the window, no room for Drama, more room or diaper changing, feedings, providing love, necessities and nourishment, meeting my Sons needs 24 hours, like all the Moms I know do.  In order to have more time for him, I had to cut out the crap.  Cut out the crap in my inner thinking, believing, and acting.  No time for the Drama.

I had to first Dig Deeper within my value system, what morals and values do I have that will be beneficial to him, my Son-later in life.  What do I want to teach him, show him and what type of Life do I want for him and our family.  There had to be discussions along the way with my partner and I.  As a couple it was key that we believed in central values, central morals and beliefs or it would not have worked.  We clicked long ago and our life together was set in motion.  I worked on me, when I met my husband and partner (Same Person) ;) I can honestly say, I do not know that girl back then, we grew together and we ultimately survive together.  We have overcome many things.  But what about us, what can we look in us to change or not necessarily change as EVOVLE.  What can we learn from certain situations, what can we count on, what beliefs hold true and what will lead the way?  I looked within.  I had to Dig Deep. 

The people who I come into contact with through my writing, either near or far, I had to really live up to what I was speaking about.  Not just on good days, not on only Sunny days, but all days, all hours and of course all the time.  When I started out on this journey, there was a lot of Evolving; I thought I was done-I am not done yet!  Cutting out the crap in my life that I WAS IN CHARGE OF, was heavy!  Habits had to be broken, I had a 12 cup coffee a day habit, which of course is more then enough to stay awake.  My intake of sugar was also on a rise, other habits, Drinking being one, I quit and left in the past.  I had to feed myself more nourishing foods.  Medication that I was prescribed that I knew was not good for me, had to be weaned off totally.  I had to include sleep, and relaxation and exercise.  I had to include along with all of these things BOUNDERIES.  Would anyone listen though?  What if I shout it from a roof, of course not a good idea at any time.  Who would listen?What bounderies did I want to establish and why?  I knew within as my AHA moment was cast upon me that I had to think, believe, and act in order to spread any amount of positivity.

I knew as a positive being, that negativity was seeping in.  I knew that I was allowing it.  I would kick myself at every blunder of a negative response-thinking  Wait, Wait, this is not me...why was I allowing the negative to creep in?  Who would ever take me seriously then?  Not my Son if anyone...  Last year I was a blunder of Positivity and hope, years before I found the positive in my life that I needed and believed in.  I knew that if I let the positivity out and the negativity in, my life would be much like when I started on this journey.  I did NOT want to know THAT girl again.  So I had to dig deep.

I did.  I was mad at myself for the negativity around me, and within.  I had to really set bounderies then, what was right in my life and my Sons-as well as my immediate family and surroundings had to be taken seriously.  Instead of complaining, I had to do something about it.  Do NOT Allow abuse, don't abuse myself, don't allow abuse in nor around my environment in any form.  A healthy life-NO DRAMA.  Rich with positivity, that could ooze out our pores.  I was not going to take it anymore, and knew that I had more work to do in the positivity department that I believe so highly in, value, and hold true to my heart.  I was not being authentic enough to me...this year was giving me a sour taste and I had to seriously look at the good and completely forget the unwanted behaviours.  I had to endure and quickly find myself at peace, surround myself with loving, caring people, friends, neighbours, people that I could trust, souls that had depth and goals, aspirations to be a positive person themselves and a disposition of respect and calm. 

I had to fill my soul with things that I like.  Which really were the basics long ago when I started out on this journey of mental health recovery.  What do I like, Who do I like, Where do I like to be, and so on.  I had to ask myself tough questions.  In the end and beginning of my AHA moment of digging deep, I was the one and only one who could evolve from this to grow, to provide positivity to myself, for myself and in turn, family, loved ones and friends.    The answer was clear, "bounderies" of allowing only positive in my life at all times, not just on Sunny days, not just on great or good hair days, all the time, every hour, each minute and second, rain or shine and every day!

I thought WOW, people are really getting the Positivity that we have in this life, what we all have, they have tapped into it, I talk of it so much, but was allowing it to be spoiled-almost...not quite.  I thought, I had better fine tune my thinking and real quick, this is not just a topic I enjoy immensely, it is one that I hold dear to my heart, and attest to live by.  I needed work, an adjustment.  Of course trying not to be hard on myself, knowing that I am not done yet and too, am human.  Now, I enjoy the I dropped the crap, and shut the door on negativity, who needs a frowner anyways?  Not me, why would anyone else?  In that sense, yes of course there are good days, and frenzy hair days.  Though, there is a heck of a lot of good, great, wonderful, awesome, beautiful, glorious and as well TERRIFIC things and beings in this amazing LIFE... if you dig that much deeper, within, and then without.

Red Running Shoes

They were the best runners he had ever tried on.  Red, durable the comfort was much more like a pillow wrapped around his feet then a pair of running shoes.  He tried them on, perfect fit.  Looked at the price, took a sigh.  "Again"  he thought to himself, I can't afford them and never will be able to afford them.  He expressed his excitement about these shoes to his friends.  His friends became much like a band of Cheerleaders, wanting him to have and own this pair of shoes, the ones he saw in the window, the ones he tried on for size, but could not ever afford them.  His joy right then was contagious, as he lit up as he went on about the stitching on the seems, the colour, the tread.  No one in their neighbourhood could ever afford those runners.  "Wait for a sale, or wait till something better comes along"  Were the about the only options for these runners.

He told everyone about them, hoping somehow the light would shine down on him for once and he could actually buy something of his own, for him and no one else.  He was tired of old hand me downs, they cluttered up his dressers drawers, cluttered up his closets and these hand me downs cluttered his style, his uniqueness.  He wanted them, he thought long and hard about how he would go about getting them.  At least before someone else passes by and grabs them up.

He thought in frustration racking his brain.  He thought what he could do to own his first a pair of runners, the red ones, with the cushiony feel.  He knew he was handy and smart.  He knew people in the near neighbourhood could perhaps use some help.  He wasn't sure how or who but he knew as much as he wanted those shoes, was as much work that he would have to do own them. 

He walked up to Missy, his good friend from his block, she jumped at the chance and said she would help him.  He wondered why, but thought the more help the better-he needed these shoes.  Missy had an idea to sell jewelry that she had made last summer at camp, so she went trotting along, every day after school selling her crafty bracelets and hair pins.  She did not get a lot of takers, but did sell Seven of them by the end of the week.  Missy was excited for him, I think she wanted to see the shoes on his feet as much he wanted to sport them.  He decided to cut lawns of ladies that his Mother was friendly with, there were Five lawns that he tended too and Money was adding up.  He decided to buy Missy a pop on the way home from school and thought that was a nice way to show his thanks. 

He talked about these shoes so much it seemed the whole two blocks now knew about them and the work he was putting forth to gain them.  They were all cheering him on, his spirit for these shoes was spreading. 

He talked about it at night to his sisters and brothers.  They too wanted him to have them, then one of them thought and said "Maybe they too could make some money to buy the same exact pair of shoes and do the same cutting of lawns-perhaps work with him right along side him, so that they could have the very same pair".  "GASP"... He did not like this idea.  He wanted just once to have one brand new item meant just for him, for himself, and only himself as it was his idea and in his mind his shoes.  He was so sick of the cluttered hand me downs bunched up in his closets and thought, he better get these shoes quickly or everyone would have a pair.  If that were the case and that did happen, he knew all too well that he would be stuck with a pair of hand me downs YET again and the whole idea of shoes with a pillow cushion meant for only him would be dampened. 
Yet, he knew how it went, one person in his family would by them, then he would get them a year later and would really just have to be happy with any outcome. 

Over glorified shoes now is all it was.

He called Missy, and told him of his brother who was after the same pair...she listened and recalled how excited he became, how excited his friends became and how excited the whole 2 blocks were as they rallied behind him.

She thought how much she wanted to be a part of her best buddy owning his first pair of runners, ones that he picked out and ones that he worked for.  She was ready for action, thinking to double up on her bracelet making and hat pin selling.   She knew it had to be something more, something better then raking leaves, or making a scarf or two.  She went to the store window one late night, looked at the shoes, gazed at them-thinking how smart and stylish they would be on her best friends feet.  She knew something would come up, a sale maybe would do the trick.  Something else though would have to come about, it did not look like these one of a kind shoes were going on sale anytime soon-especially with all the buzz about them now.

She knew and he knew, they were now in a race for his one glorious pair of red sneakers.  Hating the thought of hand me downs.  They counted their pile of bills and change over and over again.  She wished she did not let him buy her a pop that day; knowing that money could have went for its intended use-the shoes. 

She kept his spirits up and came up with ideas full of endless possibilities to gain the last bit of change.  They needed $9.50 a couple more lawns perhaps.  On their travels they were walking through the city center.  At this point he did not even want to look at the shoes, thinking of what a horror this has became.  He walked in the store with Missy, as she was NOT about to let him give up now.  They walked in the store.

An older man stood at the cash, wanting to return a few items.  They waited patiently as the lane ways in the store were blocked.  They scurried behind him and Missy saw the older man with the red runners, holding them by the laces, he held out his receipt as he was trying hard to return them as well.  Missy looked at her buddy and gave a smile he knew all too well.  Missy had an idea.  One of the reasons he liked hanging out with Missy is that she would not let him give up and loved her thinking of "if their is a will, their is a way"  She smiled, all knowing of the bantering that was about to occur.

Missy jumped into the spotlight, "Oh HI are you returning those red runners"?  "Yeah, he said shrunkenly  "I'm wanting to, but they won't take them back, they said their policy is not to take back running shoes, but they don't fit me as well as I would have liked"  "What Size"  Missy piped up.  She looked at her friend with the gleam in his eyes litteraly, watching his dream unfold right before him.  "Size 8" He muttered, "but they won't take them back, they are useless to me".  She nudged her friend, almost screaming that they were his exact size.  He then pounced "I have $63.00, $9.50 short of what they are worth, I can give you that to you, for those red sneakers.   He was grinning ear to ear, the man was thrilled more so, to be rid of them, and to actually get most of his money back. 

Home they went red shoes and all, walking down the street him jumping her skipping.  He ran through the door of his home... "Look, Look-I got them I got them...oh you'll never guess"  And he continued to tell of how he was able to almost magically score his brand new pair of runners.  Missy was right behind him, jabbering away about how it all came down and how she witnessed a Miracle. 

His brother was in the corner pouting, of course he mentioned that it was great, but knew now he would have to wear the hand me down and hated the thought just as much.  Although he did not put forth any effort or any of the thought.  Everyone gasped with joy, some with envy.  Missy was about to walk home and headed out the door.  He stopped her and asked what she was doing later?  "Nothing" she said in great surprise.  He continued..."I wanted to stop by later.  "OK" grabbing at the chance.  She loved his company.

Later that night he went for a bike ride off to Missy's to spend the evening.  They got a long really like to peas in a pod, she guessed that this was some of others jealousy when it came to the two of them.  She felt the glares, she felt the daggers.  She did not care, she was on his side, team ONE to her!  He rasped on the door, Missy belting out of her front doorway and on to the porch, she tripped but then laughed it off.  He was in a great mood as well, he handed her a bag, she did not understand.  It was the pair of shoes, the red ones, the ones with the cushion much like a cloud.  "Here"  he said and passed her the brand new shoes that was the talk of the town by now.  She looked at them, what, why are you giving me these...don't they fit?  Don't you like them? why, what's going on, they are yours. 

He spoke "This is the second pair I bought, these ones are yours! I bought my pair a week ago with the money we made and added my savings for the second pair, your pair.  I wanted you to have them".

"Really", gasping but happy.  "What about your brother who wanted them".  "Look, he said brightly,  "they are yours, you liked them too I could tell, so I bought my pair with some savings and your money and the lawn cutting money went to these ones...so really they are yours.  He continued "Unless you mind us wearing the same shoes, in the same colour and the exact same size?.  "WOW, Thank you" As she rushed almost jumping in his arms to hug him close.

The two quit cutting lawns and selling jewelry for the rest of the summer, as they had new shoes to show off and bikes to ride.

D is For

The letter D is an amazing letter full of Desire. The best words to live by start with D. Determination, Daring, Dedicated. Though being Delicate is also needed in Life. One does not want to Destroy or Discount others on their personal journey. Diffuse situations that become Dicey and don't Dispute. Its always better to Decide to walk away. Though being a Door Mat has no bearing as well. Discuss, Dispute and Deviate towards understanding ALWAYS. -Tamara Thompson

In A Blink Of An Eye.

What is your greatest fears?  Have you lived any out and faced them head on?  Lets hope so!   They say out of fear comes faith, love and compassion.  I use to have fears about everything.  I was trembling with insecurities as I came into my Twenties.  I was afraid to live, afraid to try things on my own, afraid of life.  People scared me, bosses scared me-even though they weren't scary at all.  To me they were superior beings- in all the glory of leadership.  They were the ones who knew everything, me, I knew nothing.  I was really like a squirrel-although I do hate the comparison of me as a squirrel.  OK-let's say I was really more like a Chipmunk.  I would run here, go there, and run from there in such a skiddish manner- No one could really take me seriously.  All of this because I had an under lying mood disorder.  Being Mentally Ill was not talked about so freely as it is now, I felt that I had to hide this "weakness", to the point of hiding myself away.  I truly thought no one would understand, or could understand, I truly never even gave them a chance to.  If I felt that anyone knew about this invisible illness, I would be gone, never to see that person again.  I would immediately remove myself and think  "See ya later, you don't need me working for you at your fine establishment, its ok I will show myself out the door, thank you for giving me a shot though"! 

Maybe a boss actually did see some potential in me, they must have if they hired me.  "No", I would think again "they don't need me budging up their system, I am sure their is someone more suited for the job".  Bye-bye, job, car, house, friends, companionship.  Again, I would find employment, become the Chipmunk character, with all the jolting about, hoping not to get captured or FOUND OUT.

I use to think, my moods and then mood disorder was who I was.  The fluctuation of the highs and lows, the anger, the rambling, the fast talking, the confusion, the mixed up expressions and tones.  I thought that illness was ME, who I was.  Like a chipmunk looking up, down, left to right, then zipping in and out.  "Who would want me?  Who would need me?  What can they possibly see in me? I don't measure up?  Why even try?  These were my consuming thoughts.  I was out to sabatoge myself, isolate myself, then I lost myself.

This was my pattern, for a good 20 years.  Then In A Blink Of An Eye.  There I was, with no home, no car, no money, no food, no friends, I left myself with nothing.  I was punishing myself for having a Mental Illness.

If I had not listened to family who really brought in the reins and steered me from a total disaster that I may not have come back from-ie: Living on the streets.  I would not have had the great opportunity to find the HELP that I needed.  So I listened with great intent on where to go from here.  I found a group who could help find me shelter in the dead of winter, help fill my stomach with food and nourishment, help counsel my emotional state, help heal my wounds, help with my finances, my self esteem, my decision making. 

My biggest FEAR in life was being HOMELESS.  As soon as the Doctor diagnosed me at 21 years old as soon as he uttered the words Bipolar Disorder, was as soon as I envisioned myself living on the streets.  As I sat years ago an inch away from that nightmare that I feared, the ledge steps away.  If I had taken one more step forward, I could have been there.  Instead, my family fought for me, steered me hard in the right direction.  My decision making was poor, I had nil to little life skills, I never cared about any consequences from the choices I made, because I did not care about myself.

I felt invisible and thought my illness was not so, to the point that I would introduce myself over and over to people I had already met numerous times.  I would stick out my hand to introduce myself, "Hi I'm....they would continue to say..."OH WE MET before at such and such a few times actually"!  Me thinking, oh you remember me?  You know my Name even..?  Then I would shy away, and find somewhere to nestle, hoping no one would again notice me.

I will say that since then, I don't even know that girl, that chipmunk, that girl, the girl who repeatedly introduced herself, thinking she was so unmemorable- she no longer exists.  I would not even recognise her if I saw her again. 

A few months ago I was shopping at the local Value Village, always looking for a bargain or the one of a kinds that you just can't find anywhere else.  I saw a man outside holding a sign "NEED MONEY FOR FOOD"  Broke my heart.  It was snowing a bit, drabby out and cold.  I must have shopped for two hours, thinking of what to buy, what to discard, having a good time in my own company.  Still thinking of that man, the man who reflects all of us, he may as well have been holding a mirror, saying this could be you one day!  I could have been there if I took one step further, I could have still been there today, any one of us could have. 

People were giving him money for the food that he needed, to this I was glad of.  Then thinking to myself what he may buy with his money for the day, a Big Mac perhaps, or a combo meal or two with a beverage to wash it down with?  Paying attention to the thought, that he will most likely enjoy his food as I imagined him eating, being warm, dry and out from the cold.   I then thought that he would have to do it all again tomorrow, or perhaps NOT!  I stopped as I walked out the door and gave him what I could, as I hurried to my car.  I wanted him to know of my experience, as it was so close to his.  So much so that I could feel his survival instincts and his thirst for Life, I could feel his chill from being outside.   I was almost there myself.  From an emotional view, I was there. 

I smiled and said to him  "I was there once too, you can get it all back"  He smiled, said "I hope so"  I nodded, bowing down to Faith and said  "You will"!  I know what a difference a year or even a month or a day can make.  I know what it is like to face your fears, whatever they may be and turn that fear into Faith.  So much so until Faith is all that you know, where Faith is the only thing that drives you further, not caring of any old fear, where Fear is now invisible.  In each and every circumstance, faith in yourself, faith in others, faith in humanity, in your Country, the World we live in and in God is all that matters.

In A Blink Of An Eye, everything can change.  Not any of us are exempt to what this life throws at us and how we handle each situation, with the choice that we have to make; as we breath deep to overcome.  When you are left without any FEARS, that's when you know that THIS is where you are suppose to be.  That everything leading up until now, was to show you Faith, show you Trust, show you Love and Compassion.  When you face your fears and look them right in the eye, you are left with a stinging gaze of triumph, victory and a Faith that is untouchable and you can not be shaken so easily as to tremble over any old fear.

Bipolar and Being Mom

I am lucky, I was able to have a Son finally!  After years of confusion as to why I was not able to conceive, being bipolar it may have been anything?  My Doctor's and Therapist team worked together along with me-discovering what was happening with my body.  It was found out that it was a medication that I was taking, that was stopping me from being able to conceive.  I was Able to rid myself of that though proved difficult.  After 8 days of weaning; which meant I was awake for Eight days- I remember it was one of the biggest challenges I ever had to over come.  When I found out I was pregnant, it was way well worth it.  Being Thirty Eight at the time of my pregnancy, I was steadfast with my health.  Before, during and after my pregnancy, learning to exercise and feed myself nourishing foods, paid off as I have a very happy, healthy and growing Child.  Though, still having Bipolar.   I feel though that there is a misconception when it comes to parenting a child while still having a chemical imbalance/mental illness.

Being a Mom as well as someone with a Mental Illness, I believe does not wreck havoc on any of my parenting skills.  If anything, I have learned over the years (with having this disorder) that eliminating stress out my life has helped me to be better able to handle stress.  It has helped me greatly with seeing a counselor for the whole of my adult life-through that, my problem skills are excellent, communication skills are relatable, interpersonal skills etc.  Having Bipolar for all of my Adult life has helped me to not take ONE day for granted.  Being sick so many times and praying for just one day, that I would be and feel no symptoms from my illness-so that I too could enjoy the day, to go out and have fun, instead of home feeling anxious or stuck or riddled with paranoia.  Now because of those days now long gone, I am able to live totally in the moment and be very mindful of everything I do, at home and with my Son.  Everyday, I really want him to get as much out of the day that he can, I make sure he enjoys a lot of play time, family time, cuddling and bonding time, alone time, sleep and other necessary things for him to be able to grow and learn all while knowing that he is well cared for and loved.  Being Bipolar (with no symptoms) has helped me seize the day, with him along my side.  

I also believe that for me, if I had had a Child at a younger age while still being in the thick of my mental illness-it would not have aided me in my parental skills.  It would have been a time when I had to put me first to be well, feel well and live well.  Back then, I would not have had a lot of time or energy or know how left over for any Child...I had to grow and perhaps grow out of the symptoms that were once at the forefront of my existence.  I am lucky that I was able to achieve this part of myself, growth and the skills I have now where they were once not existent.  I am not my symptoms or my illness, I am a Mother with Bipolar-for me it has aided me in my personal development to be a Mother.  If I were younger, my healing would have got in the way of any of this; where the stress would be endless, the commotion in my life, the drama, my priorities would have stagnated the care for myself and then so on.

Turning 40 in just a few short months, I know now I am the best me, the best Mom and the best role model I can be for my One Son.  Because my care comes so effortlessly and naturally, with all that I have learned-I can now put my efforts and care into my Child, knowing that he will benefit from the Mom I am-even with Bipolar. 

I worked very hard on my recovery.  I remember so many days and nights spent dedicated to learning and relearning life skills, the tools I gained did not come easy.  With disappointment I had to learn courage, with low self esteem I had to learn confidence, with frustration I would have to learn temperament,

with over coming obstacles I would have to learn how to problem solve.  These examples along with many more took a lot of hard work, of course all very gratifying and well worth it.  I gave more then 100% to myself and my growth for 20+ years.  I can now totally fulfill what I have learned over the years and hope to pass it on to my Son.  

I tackled the bipolar and the long road that it lead me on, to a place of gratitude, peace, serenity, warmth, love, devotion and health...thinking back to the nights where I would beg and pray for help, to not have this disorder, to be rid of it, to not feel the effects....Miracles everywhere!!

When I pray now, I simply say Thank You, again I say Thank You, and again day and night I say Thank you.  Bipolar and Being Mom-Thank you!

I Am What I Am

I have carried myself through my Life, being joyous, loving, nurturing and caring.  Along with other qualities that render along the same character traits.  I have always enjoyed laughing until I cried, I easily run to someone in need, even all they need is a good cry-in that case I bring a long a chilled bottle of wine, ready to open.  All these things though, do not really say who I am completely.  At home, my husband will admit easily, that I am always happy, chipper, never in an angry mood, yelling and carrying on for no good reason.  I wake up happy and he wonders "What the heck was in her cereal bowl"  Not saying that I do not get angered or act in a demanding and confrontational way from time to time; usually though- My home is my castle and I feel that in order for it to run in tip top shape, I in no way want to shake things up that much. 

Lately through the years I have become some what of a problem solver, if anyone has a life challenge I am more then happy to give a sense of the better things in life that they could draw upon.  These things I taught myself until it was second nature.  Again this is not all the time, but the things I learned-my own personal lessons have taught me what I needed to know for the purpose of my life and my life alone.

What if someone sees you at your worst?  What happens if they see you struggling, time after time and when you first appeared to them.  What if they see you cry, being stressed, or in a irrational state for a bit of time.  How then do they perceive you?  Mostly, they will always think of you as that frazzled, mixed up (maybe), confused and distraught person.  Though they don't know that you could make a crowd laugh, be the life of a party, be a friend when someone needs it.  They don't know the times, that you gave the shirt off your back, when you picked someone up when they were distressed or in need.  The timing of when they met you, you made a detour and had to start over.  Then, unwillingly you wear that flag for years.  With the blueprint of your downs highlighted on the back of your favourite T-Shirt. 

The stigma there is obvious it is imprinted on you forever, a tattoo that you seem to wear now where ever you go.  Even though you came out on top, standing and victorious.  These people still are in the wings-though not chearing but waiting for you to fail again.  That for them, was when they felt empowered possibly being around you.  It somehow made those around you feel better about themselves.  In that way of thinking, they really did not want you to succeed, to better yourself, move on.  They liked the fact that you were once stuck. 

Now all of these points do have a mediocre tone of negative.  The true essence is that your true character is not where you have been, or the puddles of mud you have found yourself in.  The times that you dug yourself out of the trenches, out of the stick of the mud are what truly defines you.  The life skills and how you have moved on is your story, your badge of Life 101 as you trek even further along on your journey.  Still smiling, still laughing, still being the life of the party, still their for others.  Your true sense and your power come out best when you are empowered and then are able to empower others.  Those that want to take that away from you, take your true sense of self and your true character and make up along with it; are merely wishing they had those awesome qualities in their self and surrounding.  You Have Got, What They Want!

Realising this, surrounding yourself with positive people, who don't want to ruin your character or thrive off of your disappointments is essential for your survival.  If not the case, I would still be stuck in the thick of the mud, not able to dig myself out, possibly complaining about every life struggle that I encountered.  When really the only struggle IS to climb out of the puddle of mud, once, twice and again until you are out for good, wiping yourself off-never to find yourself their again.

So Tell Me, Am I a Victim?

I never considered myself a victim.  I went through crap-but never thought of myself that way-some may have.  Although, I think I know myself and tend to think of myself in higher regards.  Also I don't count myself out that quickly!
 
It is true I went through a period or two, perhaps a stage of great falling into a whole perhaps? Determination in my thoughts to climb out truly takes away my feelings of any amount of victimhood that I could ever see in myself.  I met people along the way that did speak in terms of victimhood.  I though could not relate.  A string of bad luck, on my end...in no way a victim. 
 
I crawled in great despair, out of sadness, lonely days, the days that never seemed to end of years of fighting my depression and anxiety.  I do not use those words loosely.  As a fighter, not willing to relent.  I knew with my faith and love for myself that would soon return, that I would regain the devotion to my morals and values-meet like minded people and be true to the power that I hold within to come back from my failures.  So tell me am I a victim?
 
The people that I was meeting at the time, hoped I would remain that "deer in the headlight girl" that I once was.  What they did not know was that, was not me.  It was a period of me, but not my nature, not my conviction for Life and the Life I knew I have lived and could live again.  I of course as a writer, took all of those hang ups, the ditches I feel in, the wholes I fell in and came up swinging.  The people that took me for a "deer in the head lights type", have never seen me swing a bat, hit a ball, run my ass off, steal a base, to a back flip, a mean dive of the diving board, a dance that is light, fun and easy or a slide home then, cheer with all the fellowship of winning that I have learned over the years.  So tell me am I a victim?
 
I learned from the best, street smarts-my Husband took the time to see me gain confidence in my courage to be aware, and to walk tall, to remember to not let anyone step over me, and to weed out the ones that did not see me as I am...So tell me am I a victim?
 
No, I am not.  I never thought I was, never to a vow or oath of victimization and to have that persona be a part of my soul.  I never once said, that this was it for me.  No, I said...This will be my lesson, I will learn from it and walk away from it, I will not put myself in a category of such hatred for myself, I will be better, get better, I will learn who I am again, how to fight again and how to look love me again.  I never lost the touch of how to throw a mean ball, hit a triple down in left field, do a  round off on a balance beam, a spin or two on the gymnastic bars.  So I ask MYSELF am I a victim?  NO, I am not.  I ask you, Are YOU?  The answer is as well....NO, never and not in a million.