“To be brave is to love someone unconditionally, without expecting anything in return.”
“To be brave is to love someone unconditionally, without expecting anything in return.”
With love by ViOLeTjanis
HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY!! ❤
Some people don’t care for Blogger Awards or have mixed opinions. Personally I deeply appreciate being appreciated. It is encouraging to know people hear me and even though I am working on feeling worthy of awards, I know that my voice counts. Thanks so much to Kat from Familyfurore.com, a Mental Health Blog, for this nomination and most of all her kind words. To be nominated for an award is wonderful; but, to be recognized for being “humble and honest” means even more. Kat writes about being a mom and taking care of her daughter who struggles with several mental health issues. Please check her blog out at http://familyfurore.com/welcome-blog-mum-carer/
I started my blog as a place to share my journey back from a severe mental breakdown in 2005. I got stuck on my About me page for 2yrs before I came back and moved on. I took some blogging courses here on WordPress.com that set me on my path. I try my best to share my life and my struggles as a woman with mental illness. I am inconsistent and disappear for a months at a time; but, I always return and am always welcomed. It is a home to come in out of the storm.
My advice to beginner bloggers would be not only to write about what you are passionate about; but, also what you know. I have tried to write about other subjects; but, having mental health issues is something I know about, therefore, I will always have something to write. Also, learn how to free write. This is something I am still working on. As you are writing your post, just let it out and then go back and edit. I have a habit of trying to perfect it as I go along and then lose my momentum. Lastly, read other blogs; it is good to observe what others are writing and how they have their blogs structured, and best of all, it is how to build your community.
My nominations are to people whom I’ve traveled through this blogosphere for a while now. I respect them, their creativity and bravery to share their stories. I wish I could pick more than ten, because everyone who shares themselves deserve recognition. ❤
To participate in the Blogger Recognition Award:
1. Show your gratitude to the person who nominated you and provide a link back to the person’s blog.
2. Give a brief story on your blog.
3. Share two or more pieces of advice for beginner bloggers.
4. Choose 10 other bloggers to nominate.
5. Comment on each blog, letting them know they’ve been nominated and provide a link to your award post.
My Winter Storm by Duster Amaranth
My biopsy came back negative! No cancer!! (Pause for happy dance!!!)
I can finally move on to celebrating the new year! I think it is going to be a year of more extreme change. There was a lot of loss and grief felt in 2017. I can’t help but to believe that new and wonderful things are coming my way. Last year served many lessons, and I met them with perseverance, success,&growth. Not just growth, ascension. It was a year of extreme sadness AND extreme joy.
Beginning with bedbugs; We lost our beds, couches, chairs. Most of our clothes got damaged from having to repeatedly dry on high heat, trying to prevent re-infestations. The bedbug battle lasted from Dec 2016 to April 2017, leaving both my daughter and I depleted.
April brought my “Holy birthday” and My Plant Journey had Begun! My herbal apprenticeship was a huge step for me. The anxiety I had to face every class was tormenting. The inner saboteur haunted me each assignment. I had panic attacks so bad that my arms would radiate with pain. My hands shook. My heart pounded so loud and fast, I couldn’t hear myself think. I just kept moving forward. I found magic in the plants, and in myself.
June brought the 18th birthday of my little girl. An emotional milestone. Sadly, I also received news of my warrior sister, Melody’s passing. June also brought the 12th deathversary of my mom. I sat with her pictures all around me and allowed myself to feel the grief. It surprised me that the pain of loss doesn’t leave, it just lives inside of you waiting to be acknowledged. That is when I posted What do we do with grief? Then, July brought the 1 year deathversary of my dad. I worked through some more Grief and Anger!
It was very hard to move through the thick fog of grief, loss, anxiety and depression. I collapsed here and there; but, picked myself up and held on to whatever coping skills I had. I began to gain healing and strength little by little, giving me a tiny bit of self confidence, something I hadn’t felt in a very long time.
September my daughter brought home lice from school and we struggled for three weeks trying to get rid of them, sending us both into bit of depression. She ended up in the hospital for a few weeks sorting it out. I kept going, the way moms do. The pressures of upcoming graduation and my little girl being in the hospital wore heavy on me.
Alas, November brought Graduation&Restoration! A time for celebration and then the hopes of a long winter nap! I journaled how proud I was of myself and really recognized how far I had come. Real growth had happened. I knew my mental health recovery had reached a whole new plateau.
The peace was short lived with the holidays approaching. Then I received news of another friend passing away and I lost my car. In the midst of loss, I found myself. I sat with calmness and gratitude. With all the loved ones who are no longer with me, I found gratitude in just being alive. With the loss of my car and the immediate panic, I sat with gratitude that I was Carless and not Homeless. Gratitude is a powerful healing tool. Like my mama used to say, “It can always be worse!”
Now 2018 is here! I have got a clean bill of health and I am ready to bring into my life new lessons, new friendships, new opportunities for growth. When one door closes, another opens. Letting go of the losses and welcoming prosperity.
Out with the old, in with the new!!
Happy 2018 Everyone! ❤
Contest/Mini-event: Eclipse by Samantha Dragon
Hope you all feel the magic of today’s rare Super/Blue/Blood Moon/Total Lunar Eclipse!!
The relationship between me and my boobs has been a rocky one. When I was twelve years old and had these giant C cup breasts that attracted endless weirdos, some of them sexually assaulting me, I grew resent towards my poor breasts. Actually, I hated them. I believed if I didn’t have them, then men would leave me be, and I wouldn’t have had these traumatic experiences. I blamed my boobs for it all.
In my twenties, my boobs fell. I don’t know if it was because I had such large ones so early, and it was a natural dance with gravity; but, I was very upset and angry. I felt betrayed by my own breasts. I thought I had finally found value in them as I was modeling and just became an exotic dancer. I needed my boobs! They let me down again. After overhearing a man call them ‘pancake tits’, I decided on plastic surgery.
The first surgery didn’t go well. The surgeon went through the arm pit and under the muscle wall. The implants never dropped down and I had these two hard lumps high on my chest. I had to wait a year before they could be fixed. The second surgery was a success, and while they were going in anyway, I decided on going a bit larger. Double D’s.
Sadly, I viewed my boobs, along with the rest of my body as a commodity. My business assets. The self care I practiced was an investment and unfortunately empty of self love.
In my thirties, was probably the only time I really loved and appreciated my boobs, when I breast fed. What a miracle I was equipped with these beautiful tools that nurtured my baby.
After time, and breastfeeding my boobs have dropped into a very natural looking state. However, I have been retired from dancing and modeling for over ten years, and lugging this weight on my chest is a chore that can’t be good for my back. I have been thinking that eventually I will need a reduction.
When I began learning to listen to my body a few years ago, I thought of my poor boobs and how I have never appreciated them and I began sending them love and thanking them for valuable life lessons. I was grateful my resent had never turned into sickness and cancer.
A few months ago, during my mammogram, some tiny calcifications were found in my right breast. They tried to remove them during a regular biopsy but were unable to reach them. They are high up and behind the muscle wall. Last week I had surgery. Everything went well and I am recouping pretty good. I was a little traumatized when I changed the bandage and saw the size of the scar. I was expecting the smaller one from my first biopsy, but, this one is bigger, about two inches. My poor breast all bruised. I sat and cried.
My heart goes out to the many women who wake up with no breast. How many warriors have a real battle with breast cancer.
Today I have a follow up appointment. They will tell me if the lumps were cancer. I have been assured that even if so, because we caught it so early, it will be not only treatable, but curable. I am deeply grateful.
I wonder if other women have relationships with their breasts like I have had. Disappointment, anger or resent, and how our own emotions develop sickness within us.
I pray all women learn to love their boobs. That men will appreciate and respect them. That society will stop objectifying and sexualizing them. That we can all heal our own self hate and therefore the illness that develops from the negativity we inflict on our poor bodies.
An engineered explosion of erroneous exposition.
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