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About this blog

At some point in our lives we will ask or have been asked, "What do you want to be when you grow up?" As a child I have always been passionate about doing for others. All I have ever wanted to do was to help people and try to make a difference within our world. "The world doesn't revolve around you" my father would say to me as a child, "It's not all about you." Hearing these words unknowingly imprinted on me the footsteps I have taken in putting people's wants, needs and desires before my own. Believing that everyone should come before me no matter the cost.
My memories starting from childhood are full of horrible nightmares, unhealed scars and broken dreams. Looking at my memories to me they are like photographs taken from an old camera. Each one has captured a still image, and when seen, they play like a projector playing and old movie. Except they don't look nor feel old. Each one as I see them playing in my mind feels as if I am back there, reliving the trauma and emotions of each one. Not all my pictures are clear though, some are faded and blurred, torn and crumbled, or completely missing. So I have kept them buried, hidden away avoiding them as they appear. The pictures of my life have enslaved me and been my prison for years. Creating a pattern of unhealthy relationships, beliefs about myself and what I am, and having no feelings of worth or value unless for the pleasure of others. 

Everyone experiences trauma differently, I have always adapted and excepted it as normal, never feeling any of it. Suffering with issues like anxiety and panic disorders for years, last year I finally hit my breaking point and literally cried out for help. I was evaluated and spent a year in PTSD therapy to help uncover and face some of the pain and traumatic experiences I had as a child. Though therapy was helpful in many ways, something happened that I can't come back from. I feel like I've been woken from a deep sleep and all the doors have been opened in my mind with no way to shut them. So many emotions and memories keep flooding my mind, creating so much anger and frustration. I find myself wanting to turn to something  to burn my insides to make me go numb so I don't have to feel. I'm not use to feeling things like this and I am terrified of it all. There is so much pain and suffering I have and realized I can't pick and choose memories as they surface in order to deal with them, and now I can no longer run from them. Even though I wasn't able to immerse myself completely, I walked away with some beneficial cognitive tools to help me on my journey to heal and find myself. So I have decided to start from the very beginning with my earliest memory as a child. But rather then writing, rereading, feeling and tearing up the page, because to me that is like keeping your secrets still locked away. I've decided to uncover my deepest darkest secrets and the nightmares that lies within by revealing them through a blog. I don't like to be seen, or have an aware audience, nor like to draw attention to myself. But maybe through my writings of the pain and suffering I have, I may help someone else while on my journey to heal. 
Of my many memories I hope to find beauty and peace in all the negatives I share. Though later in my journey I will share the story behind it, there is one chapter in my life I have found beauty in.

Despite the difficulty and unsettling story that one is, I some how gained something beautiful from it, a DayLily. I have in so many ways become like a DayLily in my life. Was planted and created, also very manipulate, moved around and broken. Easily able to adapt and thrive very well in unknown and harsh conditions. Though one doesn't require much to grow and thrive, it some how always manages to survive. When you see a DayLily these aren't the things that usually come to ones mind. Their beautiful vibrant colors with a variety of shapes and sizes. The unique textures and perfume like scent petals that can fill a room. Each one uniquely patterned and full of life and intensity, so captivating. However, these are not the things that I have ever seen when I look at myself. I want to see all of it and believe it to. In order to do so, I must take control and put myself first and completely walk in darkness and feel all the pain to find the beautiful light that awaits.
I no longer want live my life by merely excepting and adapting to things that are not normal, painful and scaring in order to feel something. It's time for me to let go of the weight I have carried my whole life, all the shame and guilt and ready to completely release all of what has embodied me. I no longer want to keep going back to what is my normal and feels safe, because it continues to create more darkness and pain. These are the photos of my life the way I see them. By developing and bringing them to light, I will truly see the beautiful flower I have become. Only then will I finally make a difference, even if that difference, is within me. 
I am my Reason to Fight, and this is my story. 

~DayLily

Entries in this blog

Last Words Spoken

I only have one memory left when it comes to my biological mother, I was in about 4th grade. We  were passing through to stay in Las Vegas for a short while. My dad had asked us if we wanted to go and see our mother. She was working at a bowling ally. We all decided to go see her at her work and bowl for a little while. I remember my feet were too small for the shoes that they had there, so I just wore my socks. This may not have been the best idea for a little kid, bowling in socks. However, it

Cousins

Packing up our belongings and preparing to load the car, my brothers came home from one last time on the mountain. Looking at them as they were coming into view something was following them, it was a small pug-nosed dog. It was so ugly with it's face all pushed in, that it was actually kind of cute. My brothers kept trying to tell it to go home, but the thing wouldn't leave, it was persistent to come home with them. To much surprise though as we packed the car, our dad said we could take it with

GodMother

It was time to move again to another place in yet another town. I remember going to my classroom to let my teacher know that I was no longer going to be in her class anymore. That my family was moving away. I remember her quieting down the class, preparing them for the announcement. She spoke very clear and told the class I was moving away and wouldn't be here anymore. I wasn't really sure what to expect, but I was never prepared for the reaction I got. I don't know why, but for some reason the

Secrets

My father liked me to be dressed a certain way. It seemed like I always looked like the poster child for an orphanage. Nothing ever fit, and all the colors that was once there had been warn out. Wearing second-hand jean dresses, shoes too big, and always had long ratted dirty blonde hair. I remember being in the city with bright lights and many hotels. A place of gambling and acceptable sin, my birth place Las Vegas. I am in third grade now. We always lived in some sort of Motel most of the time

My Beginning

Like all stories of how one comes to be, there is always a beginning. When you think of your childhood what is the first picture you see, the first memory brought to light? For me I am about 3 years old and I see a small room with two brothers who are older then me, a TV and small kitchen. All day we would hang out together watching TV. There is no food and nothing to drink, for three days we are in this room, just us kids. Remembering how hungry I was, not sure where the food is, or when we wil
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