Birthday Girl

I cannot say that I feel 23. I guess in a way, I could say I feel a change within me because I wasn’t concerned with a big birthday production. I enjoyed spending quality time with family and friends going to dinner and a movie. Last year, I was glad not to be spending it in the hospital. This year, I am just blessed that I made it to another year. And that, in and of itself was the best birthday gift, the biggest celebration that I could have. With that said, I was overly emotional I cried a little when I read the cards I got from my mom and sisters. I suppose true to Hallmark fashion, I was supposed to cry but this card seemed to mean more. God’s not through with me yet.
“Flexibility is going to the edge of your comfort zone without pushing yourself too hard. Flexibility is knowing that compromise makes everyone a winner. Flexibility is being open to change while being okay with wherever you are. Flexibility is bending without breaking, whatever life brings your way. Flexibility is making it a habit to stretch your living and laughter muscles everyday. Always reach as high and far as you can for whatever brings you true happiness.”

Winter Heart

When you left, you took the
seasons.
I peer out
the frosty windowpane.
Ice frames the glass and
creeps inward.
I exhale white clouds and
they chill the pane more.
Pristine snow covers
your footprints.
No one has come since you left.
Dark skies loom
like the memory of you.
Sharp winds rattle the glass.
The barren trees surround,
they fence me in.
I can spring no more.
I sit
and sit,
frozen
by the window in
your chair.

Anniversary

What was I doing a year ago today? I was fighting for my life. Kind of a cruel April Fool’s joke, I you ask me? I was admitted to the hospital a little before midnight. I spent the rest of the night crying and praying that I would make it to the morning. I couldn’t see past the next day, or to my birthday, let alone a year later. It’s been a year I hardly recognize.
This past year has been full of change, physical and mental. There is no way to get used to “being sick” quickly. An illness takes a toll on living. I try to manage through the days, but it’s hard as hell when you have to wake up and take six (maybe more) different pills every morning. Things that never hurt before, remind you daily that something is wrong. When you keep a constant low-grade fever for no reason and have to keep popping Tylenol, you’re not eager to go out. When all of a sudden you develop allergies to foods or skin products you’ve used all your life and have allergic reactions (swollen lips, eyes, face), you lose confidence. Everything effects who I am now.
People assumed that I was just supposed to rebound and go back to being myself. I can’t do that though. I’m not the same person. I don’t like to go out, so sue me. The club ain’t never really been for me, but I would go because I wanted to get out. Now, it’s just not me. I don’t like the club and plus a crowded, hot, smoke-filled box ain’t really conducive to meds. Call me lame if you want. No, I’m not up for making friends either due to a few reasons. But mainly, I’m just not the social type any more. What can I say? I’m trying, but it’s a day-to-day struggle that people just don’t understand and I can’t make them. I have to do what I think is right for me. I have to live with me. I have to survive for me.
So it’s a year later and I’m still learning. But I am thankful that I was given the opportunity to do so. Right now I can only say how I almost died and the impact that had. Hopefully, in the future, I can say how I lived

Lifetime

... I can let my life pass me by or I can get down and try...

The Maxwell & Chrisette Michele concert was definitely a bigger treat to me than I thought. That concert was the epitome of SOUL. Hands down, it was the best concert I’ve been to thus far...even coming in ahead of The Roots...sorry. That concert was a very personal experience, made me realize that I’m human and see how I get busy taking care of everybody else, forgetting about myself. Many people told that I was stupid for going by myself, but this was my gift to me. I didn’t want anyone to ruin this for me. While watching Chrisette passionately belt out her songs and Maxwell soothingly serenade, all the emotions that have overwhelmed me in the past months; fear, depression, heartache, bitterness, regret, hate, love, all the things I’d been trying to bury resurfaced and hit me at once. And with everything that I’ve been through, these feeling I have are completely natural, especially in my situation. It’s okay to feel those ways. I’m okay.

...I know I got a little life in me left...a little strength left...

I’ve been so at odds with love these past months for letting me down, BIG time, so close together. I’ve hated it, been bitter towards it, and even done something not in my nature- and regretted it. I see I’m causing myself unneeded stress by dwelling on something I can’t change, that I don’t want to change. Sometimes people only come into your life for a season, and even though the season may return, it’s only meant to teach a lesson. It’s never permanent. Everything has all been for the better, my heart is free. The memories will fade. Memories will be replaced.
...Someone better will love me...

And I still haven’t quite come to term with living with a chronic illness. I’m tired of people referring to me as sick. What is sick? What does that mean? Is it being a shell of your former self? It’s been months and I’m still not used to this and I don’t think my family and friends are used to this, and because I still don’t understand what is going on and why this happened, I can’t get them to do the same. From time to time I get the urge to ask God why but find that there’s no use in questioning the Lord. I just pray God I can cope. I get the feeling often to want to break down and cry, but that’s like adding defeat, I’m not defeated. I’m not dead. I was given a second chance and a third. I’m lucky, I’m blessed.

...I was reborn when I was broken...I’ll work it all out this lifetime...

School's Out for Summer

Today was the last day of Term B summer school. Hip, hip hooray! I made it. 5 weeks of Monday-Friday two hour classes and I did it. At first, the thought of going back to school seemed intimidating. I wasn’t sure if I could do it. But I had to prove to myself and to others that I had it in me, that taking classes again wouldn’t be more than I could handle, that I would be well enough to take a full load in the fall. I worked at it, and studied and did all of my homework, well most of it. I got a well deserved “A” in Spanish, especially after completely acing one of the hardest Spanish tests I’ve ever taken. I came out with a “B” in my writing class. Flash prose turned out to be an interesting class and I loved every minute of. I kicked ass on my portfolio and I’m proud of that. So now it’s reward time. The Maxwell is coming up and I couldn’t be more excited, a special gift to me and the Young Money Atlanta trip is coming up. Can’t wait.

I Know

Prescriptions expire
Addictions come to an end
My intervention is over
The Doc’s no longer in
Brain unwashed
Not afflicted with affection
The dependency is gone
Finally come to my senses and
Left you the hell alone
My body ain’t fiendin’ no more
My soul gained control
So I’m finally free
My heart no longer pledge
allegiance to thee
Damn I’m lovin’ these days
not needin’ the D.

Pretty Wings

I’m flying SOLO and damn it feels good. I’m taking some much needed time off from being in a relationship. It’s too big of a commitment at the moment and I don’t need that kind of stress in my life, especially not now. I have my health to worry about. I have to take care of me right now. I’m my main priority.
For the past two months I’ve had time to reflect on myself and past relationships. And even though I want to regret some decisions I’ve made, I can’t. They were all things that I wanted at the time and if I regret those moments, then I’m denying a part of me. All have been experience that I’ve learned valuable lessons from and with each failed relationship I’ve learned a little more about myself.
Like for instance, with my ex I put most of the blame on him for the demise of us and minimized my credit in the whole affair. I recently realized that I was completely to blame-well not completely-but it was my actions, my repeated forgiving that brought about his actions. I still think I should’ve left after I first doubted the union. I stayed, thinking I was being the bigger person. I stayed because I thought I was making this COURAGEOUS stand for love. I stayed because i was “in love.” And each time he did something unacceptable those were the reasons I used to convince myself to go back, to stay. When a person realizes that you’ll give a hundred tries they tend to take advantage of the situation. I had made myself vulnerable.
I’m happy with putting love on the back burner. I know I’m capable... “Everything in its right time, everything in its right place...” The next time I don’t want to have security issues, I don’t want to be jealous, I don’t want to have to worry about crossing state lines, and I don’t want to make to make the same mistakes. I’m in no rush. I’m on official PLAYA status...lol. I still have a game of hide & seek I have yet to finish and look forward to doing so, I’m still having fun. Being single gives me the freedom that at 22 I feel I should have. So I’m spreading my wings...my declaration of independence, right now a star's in the ascendant.

Homecoming- Life After Death

“…B.I.G. didn’t get to see how this feels…” and lying from my ICU bed in East Georgia Medical Center, I often questioned if I would get a second chance.
When I first got sick in March, I figured I was just that, a temporary case of whatever. Then week two weeks and I developed serious chest pain and started spending more time at the doctor than I have the past four years combined. Week three followed and I was still no better.
March 31 was the start to my nearly month long stint in the hospital. I thought I was dying. Doctors couldn’t figure out what was wrong with me. Life looked grim. My hope had died. I could barely move from my bed and even when I could manage some strength I felt defeated and didn’t try to get up. That first night I was scared out of my mind. I cried. I prayed. I cried some more when my mom got there the next day. I didn’t want her to see me like that. Even she thought I was on my deathbed. There is nothing worse than being trapped in a room with someone who thinks you’re dying.
As March morphed into April I racked up my time in the hospital. I’m still surprised I didn’t spend my birthday in there. I’ve been trying to adjust since May, but that’s been hectic. I was forced to drop out of school, which broke my heart. I stopped writing because it just didn’t make sense anymore, like my words had lost all meaning and value to me. I was home and people kept treating me like I was severely handicapped. I had to repeat myself, reminding everyone that I was capable. I felt like a burden at home, constant prescription refills and doctor visits, stressing that I might become sick again, people acting like I was contagious. It’s been hard and I don’t think I’ve fully accepted the diagnosis of Lupus-and House said “It’s never lupus”- but until proved otherwise that’s the reality in which I live. I’m happy to be alive and I’m glad to have another chance to make new experiences.
But today was like my real Homecoming. I’m back in Statesboro and in my own apartment. I feel like I’ve got the part of me back that I’ve been missing. I’m back to my real life. Summer classes start in the next week, I have a job interview too, and music classes to look forward to in the fall. I’ve found some weird inspiration in being back, so I’m going to take full advantage of it. I know there’s more to come.