Tuesday, October 7, 2014
There are seven rooms in my house that represent the struggles, emotional hurdles, physicals limitations, and disorganization in my brain, and my life since my arrival to Colorado.
Over the last twelve years, I have fought, clawed, and battled my way to the surface of the water. After treading water for so long, I can say that I am finally swimming to shore.
I have organized, cleaned, and decluttered the first of the seven rooms. I don't think anyone in my house understands the significance of that cleansing.
Thank you to all of my friends and family, who have stood by me. You have weathered the good, the bad, the crazy, the emotional, the irrational, and all of the other idiosyncrasies with me. I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH!!!!!
Saturday, August 9, 2014
If we were only inspired by movies, the way movies were inspired by us; What a different world we'd live in. Where the bad guys get caught. The good guys win. We may not live happily ever after, but we could live with our strength and courage. We could look ourselves in the mirror, and know that we did what was right. Even though it was the harder path. The heroes wouldn't be on the big screen, and in a theatre with surround sound. The hero would be the reflection staring back at us in that mirror.
Why must we run scared and hide? Why do we choose to live in fear? Why do we let the enemy take away our drive, our spirits, our souls, and our hearts?
Because it is the easy way out. We choose to live in fear; Where we may never be confronted with our worst enemy. The coward within us. We don't want to cower. We do not want anyone to see us shake and tremble. So we choose to remain enslaved.
What is it that you chose?
When you go to bed at night, do you feel you were true to yourself? Do you feel like the hero on the big screen? Did you stare the bad guy in the eyes? Were you strong and courageous? Did you choose the path less traveled?
Sunday, June 29, 2014
I have been absorbed in politics for the last eighteen months. I have been astonished by what has been going on in this country. What’s scary is the information that never makes it into the homes of the American people. Most Americans are completely unaware of the censorship taking place in this nation. I wasn’t aware.
Tuesday, May 13, 2014
There was a time when I played in the rain;
I ran through mud puddles and rode my sleigh in every snowstorm.
I sat outside and watched the lightning;
I four wheeled through the mud and snow;
I played at the playground just to use the swing.
There was a time I drove through the country,
down roads I didn’t know;
I climbed steep hills and walked on sandy beaches.
I danced to Alan Jackson;
I danced to Hank Williams too;
I danced with my cats and I danced with my kids.
There was a time when the ocean called for me;
I watched fierce waves batter the shore;
There was a time I chased tornadoes.
There was a time my soul felt free;
At night, now, I wonder what happened to me.
Where did I go? Am I who should I be?
Thursday, April 3, 2014
People say that the right winged nuts are only worried about running around in their pickup trucks, shooting their rifles in the air and whooping and hollering. We are anti-government and just defiant.
Let me say this... the government that we are fighting is the government that puts petroleum based products in food coloring.
They have allowed our food and drinks to include High Fructose Corn Syrup. Studies have found a high percentage of HFCS tested contained Mercury. Didn't we stop making thermometers with Mercury because of its danger?
Saturday, June 15, 2013
It is unmistakable when it starts. First, there is an overwhelming feeling of heat. A cold sweat beads up on your face. The heart begins to beat faster than what anyone thought was possible. You cannot remove the invisible hands around your neck that choke the life out of you. No matter how deep you grasp for a breath, there isn’t one. There is so much panic that only death will relieve you.
When I reach for my shoes or keys, it begins to coat me. When the sun has gone down, and I am only feet away from the front door, that is when I feel soaked in it. There is darkness about it that is nowhere near your typical sundown. This darkness is one that is crippling. One person out of seventy-five can share my hell. Panic attacks are made comical on television and movies. However, Panic attacks are anything but funny.
I was diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder in 2006. I have suffered from anxiety my entire life. I guess you could say that my anxiety controls me. If I get to the front door, and my anxiety medications have not begun to work, I will turn around and head straight back to the comfort of my room. Yes, I have one spot downstairs, and one spot upstairs that I go to for comfort.
I must admit, there is nothing worse than having your two children watch you collapse into a pile of tears and fear. My children know my story. My children have met my mother. My children are incredibly understandable. My children see my strength.
As hard as it may be to grasp all of this, there is also strength that picks me up everyday and forces me out of my bed. Strength that forces me to drive cross country with my kids on a vacation to Maryland. It is during those times that my kids learn my strength and perseverance.
Sunday, May 19, 2013
Ah, the pain... yes
The bleeding of my soul.
The ugliness that sits behind the blue of the ocean;
The blue of the veins.
The sorrow that fills the air that I breathe;
The desperation to find the love that fills the void.
Ah, the emptiness of the heart.
The rhythm that it beats, is too, filled with pain.
The ache this heart has been privileged to.
The hate that this delicate muscle has absorbed.
Ah, the God that stood over this tired and frail child.
This child whose body tried to cease so young.
Only to be saved by the evil men in white.
The pain that stagnates around this soul,
the desertion to find any love;
For love is just filler upon our final breath.
Each day is another trial;
Each day is another quest of survival with minimal pain,
If God is the ultimate in love,
then God is my destination.
God is my desperation,
Was God then my desertion?
Ah, the pain... yes
The bleeding of my soul.
Linda L. Mitchell