My whole life has been different. I was always hungry and dirty. My mom and Dad were alcoholics. My Big brother was only three years older than me, but I remember him taking care of me the best he could. I look at my eight year old boy and can't imagine that burden being on him. My teenage years wasn't much better. Pretty much horrible. I got married at 17 to get away from my mom and step dad. As soon as me and my husband got married, he started abusing me. He tried to kill me several times. This is the kind of things we will talk about here. Domestic violence, Losing kids, being abused, and most of all how to fucking heal without antidepressants. Its some pretty rough stuff. (One more thing. forever I have been ashamed of my story and made to feel like a victim from friends and family. I am not a victim any more and I will not be ashamed to put my story out in hopes that it helps just one person have a better day. ) And to anyone rolling their eyes.....KISS MY FAT JUICY ASS. Ok so I got side tracked. I am not a writer. But I got married. Got abused twelve years. This man beat me to a bloody pulp often. Because of it, My oldest daughter was born at 1 pound 8 ounces. She ended up having cerebral palsy. I held my daughter when she was ten and watched my baby draw her last breath all because a man was filled with such hate that he was the cause of his own daughters death. I also lost a baby boy at six months pregnant. Because my husband beat me. When I finally go away from him, I met someone else and we have a son together. My bubble is 8 years old. He was born on Friday the 13th. Two weeks later I had a stroke where my brain bled in two different places. It sucked. I woke after a five day coma, where the dr's said I would probably never wake up. They said if I did, I would probably be a vegitable for the rest of my life. I am not a vegitable. I realize i misspelled vegitable. Get used to it if you like me because I can not for the life of me spell. Anyway after waking up from the coma I couldn't do anything on my own. LIke i'm serious. I had people wiping my ass. I was 31. Never liked help. Having people clean my ass because I couldn't. I lost two kids. Hard life and I just had a stroke. couldn't do anything but visualize things in my head. I danced to TOOL playing. In my head. Tool is a band. Tool is my saving grace. I looked into eastern healing because of them. My body was broken, my soul was crushed. I wanted nothing more than to stop existing. I wanted to die. It all still hurts, but now I understand I must feel that pain in order to not fall into a dark spiraling depression. When that pain hits, I cry. Then it goes away until the next time it wants to rear its ugly head. But, now I am so comfortable with my own personal demons, that, it doesn't hurt that bad and it doesn't stick with me all day and build up. Another thing that keeps me sane....My art, my paintings. I am able to let go and to be free with them, because in my paintings, anything is possible. I love my creativity. About to start using it to help people heal. I swear to go if this thing doesn't save all this.....I have no idea what I am doing, but I am going to continue to do it. Lets talk, lets create, lets laugh. Life is too damn short.
I wanted to work on not muttling the colors. I wanted it to be bright. I think I achieved that. Im doing better. When I first started everything became grey and muddy looking. I found a technique. It involves a lot of paint and going over things again and again also keeping the brush clean. I LOVE TO PAINT. Never said I knew how. I love it. Smoke a bowl and put on TOOL. Dance and paint. Its such a freeing feeling. Most of these paintings I was trippin balls. Weed brought me out. Tool guided me. In the process, I found out I am fucking amazing. So are you. You just don't know it yet. Love yourself. That is the ultimate love.