I could easily flood the parchment with meaningless prose. I however choose to take a different path. Simply a matter of preference. As I make my first attempt to lift the quill in over 20 years, sheer terror fills my blood. I want to scream out in frustration. Where do I begin this journey. Synapses begin firing into overdrive, as I frantically race to filter the hastening thoughts that scatter across my mind like notes dancing across a page of a complex violin solo. My brain, flooded like the New York Stock Exchange ticker is desperate to reach out and pluck a topic, any topic from the endless, ever flowing stream. My undiagnosed A.D.D. has shifted abruptly into overdrive as more than two decades of thoughts bleed from my brain. It’s as if someone has shaken up a bottle of Dom Perignon and popped the cork.
Currently cut off from the modern world due to my rural location at the moment, I am forced to commence. Procrastination, one of my best friends and worst enemies, has come to a screeching halt. I experience a multitude of emotions, some light, some inspiring and un suprisingly I discover that which lies beneath the surface which I’ve barely begun to scratch, are sentiments which are by far more complex. Being cut off from the internet and all cell service at this exact moment, is both a blessing and a curse. Interestingly enough it was the internet that delivered me here in the first place. The lifelines known as social media have offered an escapism from reality. Although a temporary one, it is similar to all mechanisms of evasion. It is a desertion I am grateful for in this case however. The infamous anomaly known as Twitter has afforded me the luxury of connecting with some of the most brilliant and empathetic souls I have ever had the pleasure of stumbling across. I have been thrown a lifeline which I am delighted to discover, is more precious to me than good ol’ oxygen itself. Freed from the shackles that bind, I compose. Merely existing simply won’t do anymore. It is through the prose of one kind, encouraging and flattering soul via a most unlikely platform, that I am even here at all. (more to follow soon, as it is more than deserving of a separate piece, you know who you are <3)
At 39 years of age I feel as though I’ve lived the life of a 70 year old. This is a both an explicit and oblique outcome of the decisions I alone have made. With each choice we are given, those we select shape the concurrent paths that are presented to us. I find it akin to a Choose Your Own Adventure book series and I’ve one hell of a tale to tell. I firmly believe “to each his or her own,” but as a self imposed perfectionist I choose quality over quantity every time. More than 20 years of screwed up, askew thoughts have been cluttering my mind, tearing up my psyche and crippling my utter soul. Pandora’s box has just been opened. I feel like an awkward church attending adolescent who’s just had her cherry popped for the first time. Every thought I experience is brand new. I am rushed with endorphins, unsure of where this will lead but finding this adrenaline surge quite delectable and much too powerful to deny. Flooded with a mixture of paralyzing fear and pure ecstasy too tantalizing to disallow, I painstakingly edit and struggle to condense more than nine pages and counting, of my ramblings. I vow to emerge triumphant though scarred, battered and bruised. I still own the burning will to survive and to thrive.
Speaking of survival, I have dedicated my years on this planet to assisting those who need it most. Forgoing any and all in my personal best interest to save these wounded fledglings. This is who I am at the very core of my being. Along my travels, I’ve encountered some who have chosen to attempt to build themselves up by tearing others down. I choose to nurture those in need, encouraging them to spread their wings and fly. I kiss their bleeding wounds while embracing them and basking them with light and love. I heal them with words of encouragement and provide safe harbor until their wounds have healed and their own personal storms have passed. I embrace them until they feel safe enough to muster their strength and utter the words, “I will try again.”
Years of living the mundane simply won’t do anymore. I now begin the process of attempting to sort out my jumbled thoughts. Through the ever so kind and encouraging words of another, for which I will be indebted for all eternity, I begin a chapter anew. Always taking the path least traveled, I struggle and I rise yet again. The day of a new dawn has arrived. I intend to embrace it fully. I advise you all to take a seat and gather your most beloved thirst quenching beverage. It’s a long winding road and my ass isn’t going anywhere, anytime soon.