Feet on the Ground..

This past year has been an especially tough one, probably the toughest I’ve experienced since I overdosed. I’ve definitely taken big leaps and hurdles in regards to trying to take risks. But it’s been daunting to say the least. This past week was probably filled with the largest hurdle of them all. On Thursday evening I was in my room laying in bed when I felt a pain radiating through my breast. Over the past few months I felt slight pain, some tingling, but not much to worry me. But this time I was worried. In a matter of 24 hours. O went from feeling some pain, to feeling excruciating pain.

That night I couldn’t sleep, and was up trying to figure out what was going on as I felt a lump in my chest. The next morning I went to the Doctors and he saw it as well, and sent me to the radiologist. After taking a look, the Radiologist found several lumps in my chest, which would explain the radiating pain that I had been feeling.

Since that discovery I have been overwhelmed, eager to know my results so they could tell me what’s going on. In the past month and a half I’ve been sick three times, this time is strep throat covered in white spots that make me want to claw them out. I’ve been emotionally tired this year and it feels like my body is doing what my emotions have been feeling for a while. I know it won’t be all bad for long, but that’s where I am at right now. I’ve placed my feet firmly on the ground. Not to pretend that everything is ok right now, but to get a baseline. Because now the only way to go is up.

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Feet on the Ground..

It’s The Little Things…

It’s been a while since I’ve written, mostly because I’ve had a lot going on and haven’t had time to process. But as the sunsets and gentle autumn breezes float through my window, as the warm of candles and the smell of apple cider and cinnamon sink in processing becomes easier. I feel like a princess on my bed of white sheets. I feel like I’m in my own world where I can escape. Or come back from a long time of escaping.

Do you have those people in your life that make you feel so welcome and unwanted at the same time? Like I love you, but please don’t need anything from me, or please realize I’m only going to let you in this much? I do. I feel boxed out of most people In my immediate world. This is part my fault due to bad decisions I’ve made that have made me want to pull away. But fault is never one sided. And this seems like the hardest hurdle to overcome. I’m not sure if I have the energy in me to overcome these hurdles anymore, or even the desire to do so.

They only let you in as much as they want to let you in, but want you to be an open book. I don’t understand that. You ask of something you cannot and refuse to give.

But it’s in the little things. Because sometimes you just want to show up in their instagram photo more than once every two years. And it sounds so silly but feels so real to me. Maybe it’s because of where I’m at. It’s like I’ve lost my voice altogether and don’t know how to speak anymore. I don’t want to speak anymore. I don’t want to try. I want to melt into the white of the sheets, into the smell of cinnamon and fresh candles. Hide behind the dark of the curtains and stay hidden. It’s not all the time, but right now it is. i just wanna melt away.

It’s The Little Things…

Miss Independent…Or Not?

This week I am exhausted. Not physically but mentally. I’ve been moving the chess pieces around in my life, hoping everything will turn out for the best when it’s not even something I can control. I like for everything to be planned out, consistent and not last minute. My week has been the exact opposite. Finances have run out. Emotionally riding a roller coaster and trying to plan a wedding.

Then my Aunt swoops in, saving the day. And the pressure is off just for a little while.

I’m used to doing, or at least trying to do everything by myself. I’m independent because I’ve seen peoples’ unstable reactions to my life events. Usually they want to hear, but then they freak out when you tell them what has happened. They back off, or they flip out in anger, or they give you examples of all the things they would do, “if” then back away if you don’t go with their suggestions. It scary, because these situations are so delicate for you. It’s your real life, but to them they can come and go as they please, like a summer breeze.

Independence and my own personal strength, of how much pain and heartache I can take have been my victory flag. I love testing my emotional strength. But not right now. I just want to be scooped up, and understood, nutured, and cared for. I’m not sure how to let that happen without letting someone in to do so.

My Aunt told me today that I have to make the decision to let God come in and save the day, to rescue me. I know that- in a far out distant, hands off sort of way. But I’ve never been brave enough to let it actually happen. Because strong people don’t need and or want rescuing. But I’ve just about had enough with pretending to be strong.

Miss Independent…Or Not?

The October Air

3 years ago I overdosed on a load of pills. It was my last attempt at committing suicide. It’s crazy because It didn’t work. LOL. I was inpatient at this hospital where my socks always got stolen and where people would wake up in the middle of the night screaming and yelling about how Obama was out to get them. There at the hospital, 2 hours away from where I live, I met my plug, the weed man, who just so happened to live 10 minutes from me.

When the dust settled, I found myself four years out, questioning who I am and what I want to be- where I wanna go and what I want to make for myself. Hope has never come easily for me. It’s not something that stirs inside of me. I wouldn’t call myself a dreamer. I don’t dream. I live realistically and aim for the best. If I hope anything I hope that my life doesn’t implode on me.

I’m learning to navigate my emotions like a ship in the storm. A lot of people would say don’t let your emotions effect you. That’s been my problem all along. I haven’t let my emotions affect me so much so that I can’t even figure out where they begin. But I’m figuring it’s worth a shot.

Four years ago, September 2012, was the first time I tried to commit suicide. I spent a few weeks in the hospital, only two leave for a day and come back. When I walked outside it was a crisp October day. Hurricane Irene was coming through. I hadn’t been outside into freedom for weeks. As my friend Ricky picked me up in his fancy camaro to take me home, I almost fell apart. Being outside was amazing for me. I saw the clouds and I felt the cool fresh air. And though it took some time for me to grasp, I found that the October Air brought me some much needed clarity. So here’s to October. And here’s to hope.

The October Air

When It’s Time To Write

When it’s time to write, I sit before my computer screen for quite sometime. I twiddle my fingers nervously, trying to decide if I am truly brave enough to say what I am thinking. Fifty million topics flutter across the chalk board of ideas in my mind-  but I quickly erase them all, too afraid to write what I’m thinking because it makes me vulnerable.

I have been a blogger for 5 years, and it’s always nerve wrecking as you realize that you are a story teller- of your own story. My story is neither graceful nor pretty. It’s full of tragic mistakes that brand my heart as I seek a God to mend and restore. Lots of tears and lots of process, but it’s mine.

I used to blog with the hopes of impressing  my hundreds of followers with my love for God. LOL. That is so gross.  Now I blog, knowing I am so fragile and breakable. That my writing is for my own sake, to help make sense of my story. I’m writing for my health, because talking just won’t do.

My name- Ariel- means lioness of God. But I’ve been nothing but fearful. But I am learning the importance of my voice and my sound. I am learning how to be free.

So when it’s time to sit down and write, more than any other time during the day- i feel brave.

 

 

When It’s Time To Write

What’s In A Name? Vulnerable Disclosure:

Anxiety and Depression.

Two almost catch phrase sorts of words used in society. Nearly everyone I know has said to have one or both of those. On social media or in daily conversation, someone is talking about the fact that people just need to understand that they have these. It makes it hard to have real conversations with people about these very real things, because most of these people are self diagnosing.

When I was young, I was diagnosed with MDD, PTSD, and an Anxiety Disorder. Now, though I don’t let those things define me, I’ve found it’s really hard to have real conversations with people about this. Because everyone has it. The words almost don’t mean anything to anyone anymore. People don’t understand what they mean. They have become trivial and meaningless.

I don’t talk about my difficulty with anxiety and mdd. It’s hard enough finding the words to explain it, let alone getting past the stigma and the overuse of the diagnoses. But it’s become harder with a self diagnosing society.

Jesus is and always will be a healer. And I believe He will always come through and set captives free of all and any mood and emotional disorders. But to be open and honest, it would be helpful if people didn’t talk about it so lightly, like it doesn’t mean anything, so people who truly do struggle with it could really get real help and healing.

What’s In A Name? Vulnerable Disclosure:

Harrisburg PA and Baby Steps

Harrisburg. I love this City. I love this place. I love the flow of creativity that comes when I stay in this area even for just a day. I feel like I become the best version of me here, in this City. The potential is limitless. At the end of February of this year I came up here, feeling confused about so many life circumstances, but believing that Jesus wanted to meet here and speak with me about so many different things. That weekend I received a prophetic word from Shawn Bowlz that definitely affected how I view myself and even my potential.

This weekend I found myself here at the last-minute, again, and got to do something I don’t often get to do. A few friends and I went out to the city to a restaurant, and there were tables of us, sitting around and talking about our histories with God, how we all ended up here this weekend. As we were sitting I was feeling rejuvinated, watching how animatedly everyone was talking about God. And just like that- Holy Spirit moved like a coarsing wind throughout the resturaunt. People were getting healed, emotionally and physically like wildfire.

This place is like a gentle kiss upon my heart. It awakens the dreams inside of me that I didn’t know existed. It lights me up and brings me so much clarity. It gets me outside of myself and it makes the impossible possible.

Harrisburg PA and Baby Steps