
Sometimes in my dreams I can run. Like any normal person, playing in the sun. I wake up feeling stiff and sore, And for a moment I believe it’s nothing more Than all that running from last night. Then … Continue reading
Sometimes in my dreams I can run. Like any normal person, playing in the sun. I wake up feeling stiff and sore, And for a moment I believe it’s nothing more Than all that running from last night. Then … Continue reading
Today I woke up feeling horrible.
I struggled to get out of bed and to send my kids off to school before collapsing back into bed.
Today I realize how incapable I am of being super mom.
Today I die a little inside at the cruel hands of life, and today I attempt to suck up my weakness and fragility and at least do something.
Today I have so much stuff to do, but most of it can wait.
Today I have kids to feed and a house that can be messy at least one more day.
Today I will give up on everything that’s not important and try to do what I can, which might not be much.
That is the story of today.
There is a possibility of tomorrow being different, which gives me the strength to get through today.
I wrote this post a few days ago. My sister wrote the most beautiful response, which I’ve included here. Please read and watch the video and go to dyingwithstyle.org to find ways that you can help me change the world. … Continue reading
Thing is, I need people to see my struggles as well as my strength. I fell out of my chair. This video is me getting back in it. It gets way more graphic than I’m comfortable with because of the leggings I had on, but I didn’t want to fall out of my chair again in different clothes. So sorry. There is way worse porn out there.
Please, if you are not bothered by this video, go to my website: dyingwithstyle.org. I’m trying to change the world.
Broken toys, some of us are.
Damaged bodies, riddled with scars.
Caught forever in between
A normal life, and something obscene.
Atrophied legs, unwholesome parts,
Distract from the beauty of our hearts.
But who cares about that anyway?
Life is a game, we are forced to play.
It doesn’t give the broken a break.
It doesn’t care that it made a mistake.
It makes some perfect I suppose
To rub it in the cripples’ nose.
You’ll never be beautiful
Never be free
To be what others can easily be.
But I have a secret that life doesn’t know.
My brokenness has helped me grow.
Strong enough to overcome
The tormenting parts of life for some.
Some like me who wake in pain.
Who fight each day to simply remain
Some form of life in this glamorous place.
Where precious treasure is a pretty face.
I’m stronger now, as time will tell.
Strength was forged in the flames of hell.
I’ll never be like all the rest,
But I can still be my broken best.
(p.s. I always miss you.)