Writing is my tool to say what I can’t or won’t say out loud. As a young kid writing has been my outlet. Most of my writing is kept to myself, but it relieves that anger, hurt, and frustration. Occassionally I would let those feelings be read with Hope’s that something would change, but time after time my feelings always managed to end up forgotten or lost along the way.

Never in a million years did I think I would write a blog. Afterall, I am not my dad. I do not have the talent of reaching people with my words the way he did. I do not have the full faith that he was able to share.
I am not my siblings, who all have a way of shedding light to reality. Instead I am me writing what I feel as I feel it.

At first I thought this was a terrible idea that I agreed to. I didnt think what I said mattered to anyone, anywhere. I am finding though, that my writing is helping me through this difficult, mentally exhausting time in my life.

Maybe I have to go through this to help me understand my thoughts and emotions. Maybe my family knew something I didn’t know. Maybe the man upstairs really does know what he is doing.

Those are a lot of maybes that I am counting on to fill the void in my heart, mind, and soul. Those are the maybes that help me get through each day.

I don’t write because I have to. I write because it soothes my chaotic mind, and calms my soul for a few minutes.
I will share my highs and lows, because at the end of the day I look at people that have gone through hell and back and come out stronger than ever and I say “I’ve got this.” I hope someday someone reads what I say and says, “I’ve got this.”

We all have a story to tell, and believe it or not it could help someone someday so why not share it? I am not always proud of myself, because trust me I am far from perfect!

I do not have all the answers. As a matter of fact, most days I am not sure I have any of them. I do know that I have a purpose in life. I don’t know what it is, but I like to think it is to share the gift of kindness and love.

I’m learning that my defense mechanism is to lash out when I am hurting. This does not make me unkind, as a matter of fact it makes me human. I am not spiteful, but I have spiteful thoughts. I do not hate, but I have hateful thoughts.
Afterall, I am human. I mess up, I forgive, I love, I despise. We are not created to be perfect. Why would I think I could or should be?

I will continue to be me, because God created me the way I am for a reason, faults and all. I was put here for a reason, and I will do my best to be the best that I can be. I will be that shoulder for anyone to cry on, I will be the voice of reason, even though I can’t always listen to my own advice. I am here for any and everyone, always.

Life is what we make of it. If we dwell on our imperfections we will not succeed. At the end of the day look at how life knocked you down. Did you let it keep you down? Or did you you pick yourself up, dust yourself off and try again?

I am learning to pick myself up, as slow as it may seem, but I am determined to not let my situations keep me down. Time to dust off, adjust the crown and move on.

Like Hannah Montana said “Life’s what you make it, so let’s make it ROCK!”