anxiety
-
when trauma meets its redemption…
Every Wednesday at 10:30AM was cooking class at the inpatient facility.I remember that mostly because I still get anxious when the clock hands hit the 10 and 6 every week.Subconsciously so.Trauma is a tricky thing.–There were a few classes out of the umpteen I took in the 12 years of being a “revolving door” patient… Continue reading
-
a divine encounter in chicago…
“Excuse me miss, you look so familiar.”I was walking back to my car in Chicago when he stopped me.“Do I know you from somewhere?” he asked.(This question has been a reoccurring one in my life. And I am at 0 out of about a 1,000 for actually knowing the person.)“I am a little far from… Continue reading
-
a thousand failed attempts to reach home…
The last writing left off on the realization while preparing for my road trip that the last time I packed for such an extended period of time was when going to treatment in 2014.Those two events may seem drastically different, but they shared common causes.–To heal.To aid in the becoming of my most authentic self.To… Continue reading
-
i met him once in a dream…
September 27, 2020–I had the most vivid dream that was in the same color as the beginning of the Wizard of Oz – not black and white but the brownish tones.I was standing in a strapless dress on a walkway (much resembling the look of a boardwalk) that was over a lake nestled within giant… Continue reading
-
the world needs you in it…
March 2021 – a glimpse into my hidden truth. The “lost months” I will now refer to them as.–I laid in bed for days – despondent. Depressed. Discarded.Only vacating the confines of my home for the morning coffee outing made mandatory by a friend.“The world needs you in it. Even if just for five minutes,”… Continue reading
-
i want my shoes back…
I received an email a few weeks ago. “Pick up where you left off!” It was from a company in regard to a little project I was working on in winter of 2021. I say “little” so nonchalantly as if I was not setting out to alter my life forever with this gift. This was… Continue reading
-
the proposals…
I used to find myself habitually playing with my finger – the one where a ring once was. As if it is still there. It was a gift one Valentine’s Day. I thought he was proposing. The woman of that day internally panicked. So maimed by love in the midst of what was happening within… Continue reading
-
the wounds discovered…
What had become of me? Abused and used. Scarred and scared. Beaten and broken. Wounds covered me – internally and externally. One a consequence of the other. A gaping gash in my heart bleeding out my dreams, my desires, my trust, my safety. The cuts on my arm a plea to stop feeling. – My… Continue reading
-
the knight becomes the enemy…
There is this sweatshirt in my closet. About three times too big for my body. I did that intentionally. – My one ex hated it. I mean despised it. Told me just how much every time I wore it. “You cannot keep covering up with this. How will you live out the butterfly effect if… Continue reading
About Me
I am a woman on a mission to turn her pain into purpose using her passion for writing. This blog is the journey of my becoming, excerpts from the pages of my book of life – the good and bad and everything in between – written with the intent to heal, to guide, to inspire…
I write to document the tale of a heroine slaying every dragon that comes her way for she knows she is the only one who can save herself.
I write to tell the story of a woman brought back to life; a chronicle of rebirth to show the power of hope and redemption.
I write to give meaning to every yes spoken – whether in shouts or whispers, in fear or bravery.
I write to share with the world the story of what happens when one believes in the beauty of a better tomorrow. What happens when one refuses to settle for anything less than butterflies. What happens when a mere spark you defiantly declined to let go out ignites into an inferno.
I write to open the eyes of all those who feel like the victim in their own story to see that they are not helpless or damaged or weak. They are in control. They have everything within to become the victor.
I write to speak life into the grieving to allow words laced in truth and love to mend the wounds inhibiting the heart from moving forward.
I write for the invisible to feel seen. I write to lead us all on the journey to the happily ever after….it is waiting to be lived by each of us <3
Clandestine Confessions 