The smallest pleasures

Sometimes, we put too much passion on the biggest dreams and priorities in life that we fail to love the smallest pleasures from simple things. We search so much for the right choices, for the right paths to walk through, for the right time and for the right reasons.
But life isn’t about searching for the things that can be found. It is about letting the unexpected happen and finding things you never searched for.

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Flashback Friday

As this week is coming to a closure, I’m looking back at my week and thinking to myself, it hasn’t been the worst week but not the best either.
I wonder why some weeks are so much harder than others and why life keeps sending us to our knees.
Why do some people have an easy ride, when others stumble at ever bump in the road?
Is it because we are strong enough to come through it, have we got a seed planted deep within us, that somehow gives us what we need to survive?
It really does puzzle me why some get a near on impossible hand in life and other sail though with their perfect life, lovers and mind-set.
What is it that makes them so special that life is practically handed to them on a plate while over struggle to even put food on theirs so they can feed their children?
Life is such a mystery and at times, more times than I care to think about a cruel, evil place.
Thankfully I can look around me a see the beautiful that this world gives us, but I will never understand why some people just want to set out to destroy.
Take my neighbor for instance. She comes across as this sweet old lady, who has all the time in the world to chitchat across the fence. 👵🏻 The next minute though she is slating everyone she knows. She doesn’t leave it there though, she reports everyone, I mean everyone, yes even me. Apparently one BBQ means I’m constantly having bomb-fires in my garden, I’m not kidding you. We have had one BBQ and within a week we had a complaint from the council. The next was a complaint about barking, there has been a few of them now. I admit my puppy barks at the postman, isn’t that his job though?
Talking of the postman, she has just reported him because I made him a coffee. Now his job is on the line. (Uncalled for, totally uncalled for)
Considering I live in the country and we are meant to have that country bond thing going on, it’s seriously like being back in high school.
Why would someone want to make people’s life’s miserable, why would you do that? How can one find pleasure in other pain?
I will never understand it.
Shouldn’t neighbours be there through good and bad. It’s not even like we live in council house, we all own our houses, so she can’t get us moved on. I honestly think she has nothing better to do and just likes to cause misery.

So as this week draws to an end, the sun is shining, freedom is hours away and the world is ours, it’s time to look back to times passed so without further ado I’ll wish you an awesome weekend and give you………

A Million Scars.

I have hit a milestone and have not self harmed for a while now.
Kinda proud considering how hard life has been, but I made a promise which I plan to keep.

So as a little celebration to myself, I thought I would share this with you.
I know if I had read it before I made that first cut, I would have thought twice about picking up that blade.
Hopefully it may help someone, who may just happen to stumble across it here.

Before you make that first cut, remember.
You will find the blood and pain release addictive.
Even though you think you can make a few tiny cuts that aren’t deep and will heal easily.
They will get deeper.
They will scar.
They will take sometimes months to heal.
And years for the scars to fade.
If you think you can limit the cutting to one area of your body think again.
It will spread when you run out of skin.
Be prepared to withdraw from others and live in a constant state of shame.
Even if you are the most honest person ever to live–
You will find yourself lying to the people you love.
You will jerk back from your friends when they touch you as if their hands were dipped in poison.
You will be terrified that they will feel something under the cloth of your shirt or because it just plain hurts so much to be touched.
Be prepared to get so out of control you fear your next cut because you don’t know how bad it will be.
Just wait for 10 cuts to turn into 100.
Be prepared for your entire life to revolve around thinking about cutting–
Cutting and covering up cutting.
And just wait till that first time you cut “too deep.”
And you freak out because the blood won’t stop…
And you are gasping…
And you feel yourself shaking all over.
You are having a panic attack and you are terrified but you can`t tell anyone.
So you sit there alone…
Praying it will be okay–
Swearing you’ll never let it go this far again…
But you will, and further….
Don’t worry, you will learn how to take care of your cuts so that you can go deeper and deeper and avoid the ER.
And the better you get at treating your cuts,
The deeper they get.
You will lie to yourself and justify it when you find yourself spending 20, 30, or 50 dollars every time you go the pharmacy.
You will feel the flutter of your heartbeat every time you go to the counter to ring up your order.
Butterfly strips–
3 or 4 different kinds of dressings…
Betadine…
Antibiotic cream…
Medical tape…
Scar reducers…
You will tap your foot impatiently hoping the line will just move and no one will stare at you or wonder why you need all these things.
And at the same time secretly hope someone will notice–
Someone who is standing in line with an armful of the same supplies.
Someone who understands–
But of course that never happens.
Medical supplies won’t be the only thing you spend all your money on.
Be prepared to buy a new wardrobe.
Longsleeve shirts in summer colors, bracelets, wristbands, boots…
The list goes on and on.
You will start looking at everyone in a different way.
Scanning their bodies for any signs of SI.
Just hoping that you might meet someone like you so you don’t feel so terribly alone.
You wont even think about it,
As your eyes scan their wrists arms.
Hoping, just hoping they will be like you.
But they are not.
You will see their clean arms and feel terribly ashamed and alone.
You will start doing a lot of things alone.
You will always have to wash your laundry in private so no one sees the blood stains on your clothes and towels.
You will always be cleaning up the blood.
Scrubbing your bathroom floor.
Wiping the blood off your keyboard.
You won’t be able to make it through a day without cutting.
Next thing you know you are in a public bathroom somewhere breaking open a scab with a sewing needle that you keep in your wallet for emergencies.
When you get really desperate,
Anything will be a cutting tool…
Scissors…a car key…a needle…a paperclip…even a pen.
Doesn’t matter what it is if you need to cut bad enough you will find something.
Say goodbye to things you took for granted.
Like wearing shorts or sandals… sleeveless tops.
A normal summer day at the beach or in a swimming pool will become a far off memory for you.
Get ready to itch.
Because you will itch and itch.
So much you will look like you have fleas or a skin disease.
You will become an expert on your body as you destroy it carefully.
You will dream about cutting.
You will dream about being exposed.
It will haunt you day and night and take over your life.
You will wish you never made that first cut because while you absolutely hate cutting.
At the same time you love it and can not live without it…

Author unknown

Don’t say it enough

Random thought of the day.

I probably don’t say it enough but thankyou to all my friends, old and new who always believe in me.
It is and has been a very hard struggle, but I am grateful I managed to keep moving forward when all I really wanted/want to do is fall asleep and not wake.
There are also a few really special people in my life, who have always been my inspiration, my shoulder and my support, I owe them my life and I thank you.
So if you go into a place where there seems nothing but darkness please reach out and turn to those who will help pull you through, you never ever have to feel alone.
Keep positive even when it feels impossible and never stop fighting to make your dreams come true.

The morning after……

img_4218When life has you by the balls, pulling you to your knees.
When love has shattered your heart into a trillion unfixable pieces.
When the sky’s are dark and the days are as black as the moonless nights.
When all hope has wilted and there just isn’t an end in sight.
When life no longer holds a meaning and you’ve no energy left to fight.
Then your eyes have no sparkle and you soul is torn apart.
Look deep within your heart and see that somewhere, someone is out there ready to help you fight, comfort you, listen and remind you that it will be alright.
I’ve been here and somehow I survived, I really don’t know how but I did.
You can to.

I found the below article by the very talent Meggie Royer, over a month ago and have had it open on my iPad ever since.
It touched my soul in many different ways.
And even though it’s sad, it’s also beautiful in its own right, (Maggie is one talented writer) so much so I have to share it and hope that it can give a little peace to someone who is struggling, someone who is surrounded by darkness and is lost without the light, someone who is lonely, someone who is drowning in heartache.
I know it’s the hardest thing on earth to lift yourself out of the black hole you have fallen in, the climb will be extremely difficult, but with every step forward the darkness gains different shades of black to grey and the light will slowly but surely filter through.
You can make it out and in time you will want to, you will want to see the beauty of the morning frost, the sunlight dancing on the walls, the roar of the ocean, the dew on the spring grasses, who have also been fighting their own battles to see the warming glow of the sun, to come alive once more.
Life is so delightful in so many ways, you just have to re-train your mind to focus on the beauty instead of the pain. It will NOT be easy, I’m certain of that because I’m still claiming to find not just the light, but to find myself once again and even though I will be different, I will be stronger also and I will be able to see the magic of the light again…….

The morning after I killed myself, I woke up.

The morning after I killed myself, I woke up.
I made myself breakfast in bed. I added salt and pepper to my eggs and used my toast for a cheese and bacon sandwich. I squeezed a grapefruit into a juice glass.

I scraped the ashes from the frying pan and rinsed the butter off the counter. I washed the dishes and folded the towels.
The morning after I killed myself, I fell in love. Not with the boy down the street or the middle school principal. Not with the everyday jogger or the grocer who always left the avocados out of the bag. I fell in love with my mother and the way she sat on the floor of my room holding each rock from my collection in her palms until they grew dark with sweat. I fell in love with my father down at the river as he placed my note into a bottle and sent it into the current. With my brother who once believed in unicorns but who now sat in his desk at school trying desperately to believe I still existed.

The morning after I killed myself, I walked the dog. I watched the way her tail twitched when a bird flew by or how her pace quickened at the sight of a cat. I saw the empty space in her eyes when she reached a stick and turned around to greet me so we could play catch but saw nothing but sky in my place. I stood by as strangers stroked her muzzle and she wilted beneath their touch like she did once for mine.

The morning after I killed myself, I went back to the neighbors’ yard where I left my footprints in concrete as a two-year old and examined how they were already fading. I picked a few day lilies and pulled a few weeds and watched the elderly woman through her window as she read the paper with the news of my death. I saw her husband spit tobacco into the kitchen sink and bring her, her daily medication.
The morning after I killed myself, I watched the sun come up. Each orange tree opened like a hand and the kid down the street pointed out a single red cloud to his mother.
The morning after I killed myself, I went back to that body in the morgue and tried to talk some sense into her. I told her about the avocados and the stepping-stones, the river and her parents. I told her about the sunsets and the dog and the beach.

The morning after I killed myself, I tried to unkill myself, but couldn’t finish what I started.

By Meggie Royer.
http://persephonesdaughters.tk

Within the depths

imageFor when my bass are long and hard and the nightmares become overwhelming reality, I have to remind myself of this……..
Life can be a struggle.
It will break you sometimes.
Nobody can protect you from that, and hiding alone in a cave somewhere won’t either, for prolonged solitude will also break you with an endless thirst for connection.
You must dare to live.
You must dare to feel.
It is the reason you are here on earth.
You are here to sacrifice your time and take risks. You are here to be bruised by life.
And when it happens that you are hurt, let yourself sit quietly with your eyes closed and remember all the good times you had, and all the sweetness you tasted.
Tell yourself how amazing it was to live, and then open your eyes and live some more.
To never struggle would be to never have been blessed with life. It is within the depths of darkness that you discover within you an inextinguishable light, and it is this light that illuminates the way forward.