I write when I’m tired

150929101049-black-coffee-stock-super-teaseThe thoughts start flowing out of me on a tired day. As I’m driving to work early in the morning on a sunny cold winter Saturday I notice all the healthy well dressed fit joggers running through the suburbs on the nicely paved sidewalks. As I sigh, I notice how normal they seem and look. So far from what my life has ever looked like in any way. It seems like I’m always doing the most extreme things in my life, almost like I’m doing it on purposes just to feel more like an outcast or a way to say, “Hey look at me!” It’s all  subconscious it seems, because most of my life all I’ve ever wanted is to fit in.

That has changed recently though. I’ve discovered different is AWESOME.

I’m jacked up again on caffeine on my way to cut hair and act “peppy.” I didn’t sleep that well last night…

It’s still setting in that just a few months ago my life looked completely different then it looks now. It’s like a mind fuck. It’s like a tornado came in, took away my old life and replaced it with a new one, totally different in every way I ever imagined it could look like.

Like wow.

My caffeine high is wearing off, time for a refill. That has been my life lately. GO,GO,GO, drink coffee and GO again.




I am still constantly trying to fill that little empty void inside me by keeping myself distracted. My current distraction is working hard everyday to prove to myself and my son that I’m a bad ass bitch, which I already know I am.

Not really, if I really felt that lovely I wouldn’t have to mention it, but you know what? I don’t give two shits anymore. I come as I am with my battle scars showing. We all have them, I’m just done hiding mine and I really don’t care if I look like a fool to anyone. At least it isn’t bottled up inside anymore like it was for many, many years. Held dormant for so very long, letting everyone else run my life and push me around.

I’ve noticed when I’m lacking sleep my creativity seems to flow out of me like a soft river stream gently gliding down the hill of my emotional and internal world I call home.

So, they call me bipolar and there might be more. I’m just like you, but maybe just a little sore and more creative. I’m souring like a kite, I bet you wish you could feel this high naturally. Well, too bad, too sad.

In the end we are all running the same race and just trying to get home. So, please stop judging me.

Don’t try to change me. I am perfect as I am.

I have finally accepted my emotions as a gift to me and to the world and now I find other creative creatures like me out there to smile and laugh with. Since life is short. I’ve decided being different is my super power and I’m using it in a positive way.

I pray, not everyday, but my relationship with my “God” has always been my foundation for growth and healing.

Try to enjoy the ride of life like a surfer boy catching his biggest wave. (or surfer girl) Because life will chew you up and spit you out, so you might as well find some joy and laughter through the shit storm or sunny day whatever life decides to bring. You can turn a bad day into a good day by simply changing the way you look at it.


Choose your perspective and set that view point for your life.

I had to lose everything to actually appreciate and realize I had the power all along inside of me waiting to be used.





Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s