It’s the devils hour
Our time to be
Asleep but I’m awake
Staring into space
Dilated into space
Between you and me
Time is in a race
In a constant chase
Feel it in my heart rate
Punch to the gut
Cough up the blood
Breathe in and out
Pour the storm on the drought
Doubt the shooting pain
It’s all in the brain
Fall back into the same
Rhythm in your veins
Stains on the pillow
Below your mind
Find the elements
Collide crashing
Burning in your side
Close your eyes
Or the devil may
Realize you’re awake.
Author: TKG
Born to write.
Mommy, my tummy hurts.
It wasn’t because I ate too much or too little.
It was sharp, severe, unforgiving, and in the center of my being. And it wasn’t going away.
I was just under 10 years old, and when I started to miss school because of the pain, my mom thought it was time to visit a doctor. Our family doctor set up an appointment at the hospital for me, where they would shove a long, thin tube with a little camera lens on the bottom of it, down my esophagus.
Awake through the whole procedure, scared, crying, cold from that backless hospital gown, gagging and calling out for my mom while two nurses stood above me. All I remember about them was their voices (“no, no dear, don’t do that”) and their heads floating above me, with a huge florescent light behind them. I just wanted it all to be over.
But this was just the beginning. Multiple ultrasounds followed, along with having to drink a disgusting thick goo of chalk, and finally being prescribed these large, white horse-pills for the pain.
“Reflux-esophagitis”, the doctor concluded, was the diagnosis.
I was given a booklet of all the foods and beverages I could no longer consume, and sent on my merry way.
The pain didn’t go away. It was always there. And eventually, I gave in to it and assented to it just being a part of me.
It took several years to realize and understand that the physical pain I experienced was not a result of acid reflux or poor diet. Unfortunately back then, parents and doctors were not too familiar with, nor spoke very fluidly of mental illness.
The stomach pain was a direct result of depression and anxiety.
If you had asked me to describe it when I was a child, I might have said something along the lines of, “feeling like a knife is stabbing me between my ribs.” If I ever had to guess what being stabbed felt like, perhaps this was it.
The sad thing is, that even today, twenty something years later, people still aren’t comfortable talking about depression, or any other mental illness. One of the reasons why is because not many people have been educated on it, unless they know someone they are close to who has suffered from it, or because of a relative, etc. Outside of extenuating circumstances, people just don’t talk about it or learn about it or educate on it.
I want to change that.
Starting now.
How’s your tummy feeling today?
Love Yourself
Know your worth. Realize your potential. Respect your body. Never lose your sense of self, independence or identity.
At this moment in time, you are young. Too young to understand what any of this means. But time is ticking fast and soon you will be all grown up; too eager to dive into the deep end. I’m here to keep your head above the water and also out of the clouds.
One day you will meet someone who you will believe to be truly special. If they have a functioning brain, then they too will know you are one of a kind. They may even tell you that they are in love with you.
Hearing or saying or even trying to fathom the idea of being in love can be very intimidating. It doesn’t matter what age you are.
I urge you to embrace love and not fear it. Because a life without love, is no life at all.
However, in any relationship, there are rules and boundaries that must be set for both parties involved. If someone is not willing to accept and respect your boundaries, they are not worth your time and effort.
When a person truly and genuinely loves another person, they also accept and respect that person’s intellect, ethnicity, religion/non-religion, family, culture, body, values, beliefs, gender, past, future goals, accomplishments, ideals, career, education and economic state. They support that person’s dreams and make them feel good about themselves.
There may be certain things a person may not necessarily like about your life, or certain topics you both may not agree on, and that’s completely normal. No relationship is perfect. In the world of love, one can learn to adapt to particular things for their partner and for the well-being of their relationship (for example, one may not be fond of animals, but their partner owns a pet, so they familiarize themselves with the type of pet or educate themselves on behaviour around pets, etc. It can work the other way too; one might own a pet and their partner could be allergic, so they compromise to find a balance that suits both parties). Of course, there are situations where adapting and accepting something you don’t agree with are not worth exploring, because it harmful to your health and mental well-being – such as substance abuse or drug addiction.
Do not ever compromise your moral values for the sole purpose of being in a relationship. You are worth much more than that. Know your worth. And make sure the person who says they love you, also knows your worth as a human being and as a woman.
The right person will come into your life at the right time. Although many, many times it may appear so but it will be the wrong person disguised as the right person at the most opportune time.
Maybe there won’t be anyone “special” in your life for a very long time, and that’s quite wonderful too. I did say a life without love is no life at all, but that doesn’t mean love comes to us in only one form.
So far, my greatest and most powerful love has been the one I’ve experienced as your mom. It’s the most exhilarating love I’ve ever known, and I’m truly blessed.
The lessons on love don’t end here. I’m 31 years old and still learning. And you will too.
Hello world!
Before I begin this exciting, new journey into the world of blogging, I want to introduce my fellow bloggers and readers to my complicated, messy, weird and amazing brain. It is always on, constantly clicking away like a typewriter without hands.
At the age of 6, I was already scribbling my thoughts down on the pages of a diary with it’s own lock and key! The number of diaries continued to pile up into adolescence. Then of course, embracing the age of technology, my hand-written diaries were replaced by the note app in my smart phone.
Three years ago, my love of writing was put on pause, when my new love – my daughter, was born. And my love only grew, as we welcomed her younger sister into the world, just 10 months ago.
I believe we are all born for a reason, maybe more reasons than one.
I was born to write. I was born to be a mom.
I want to bring my two great loves together. I want to write for my daughters.
Join me in my writings for my daughters; laugh with me, cry with me, grow with me as I watch them grow too.
writingsformydaughters 