Choose Life

Woke up from the deepest slumber, it's like I gave up on life yesterday and fell into my bed for salvation. But did I wake up any better? No, I woke up crying with my stupid hair all matted. I can't STAND looking at myself in the mirror but then in the midst of my nervous breakdown, I can't help but giggle because things cannot get any worse. I just have to give my head a shake, keep writing, keep developing my relationship with my son, and something should come up in terms of creative development and cash. And I'm also FED UP with the way I've allowed myself to become physically. I mean, it's easily fixable because I think I've got the raw goods some where there but I shouldn't take it for granted as my ponytail is becoming thinner and coarser by the day. If I allow my neglect to go on, surely I'll end up with a bald spot at the back of my head. If my hair could talk it would scream for me to slather loads of deep conditioner and hot olive oil on it. I LOVE the way my scalps feels all healthy and tingly whenever I give it one of my "treatments" and the same goes for my skin, which I've forgotten about too. If I were ever trapped on a desert island at least now I know what I would look like and it's bad, but not as bad as I thought it would be. I'm actually looking forward to the day where my hair is blond and healthy (or at least gives the impression of being through a good blow-out) and I start wearing some make-up. I have missed my "glamorous" self but in the midst of avoiding all mirrors, toothbrushes, and hairdressers, I have found myself through my writing and this has given me hope and strength. Perhaps, it's my turn to shine, I know I keep saying this and what does it really mean? I mean, as "God's children" aren't we all special in our own way, what is it that we must prove to ourselves and to others in order to be accepted by society and our own families?


Because I am not popping pills to ease or optimally to erase my insecurities these questions keep coming up, questions that I have no answers to. But do I? I mean, if I think about it for a second, I am happiest when I am writing (besides being with my son which goes without saying, obviously) and to be able to make a living out of this would be sheer heaven. And I don't mean only the blog. I have ideas for many other avenues. Perhaps that is what those of us who are in recovery need, a replacement for the pill, powder, needle,etc. We need something productive and resourceful to get the brain chemicals up there moving and filling our hearts with joy, healthy joy that leads to having a productive life, not the type that leads to going insane or dying. Oh, the fine line. When will I ever figure it out?