Finding Freedom in Greif

I have not even wanted to write for quite some time now. I get notices that people are reading my ramblings. So I am writing to share why I have not been writing.

My depression is deep after losing my mom, my dad, my brother, and so so much more. It does not make for good reading. So I keep quiet knowing that by the very grace of god that angels are guiding my confused soul thru the chaos of my life.

My broken brain is still broke. My heart is broke with it. I am praying for them both to mend. Either way, I am praying for everyone and hoping that others pray for me too. It is a simple thing to just take a moment and thank the stars that we are still alive.

Thank You all for being You!!!!

Flying Therapy

Ok. So I have mentioned I have been in a deep depression. Medications are finally helping. Having all my teeth pulled helped too. I grind my teeth bad at night. I break the things dentists say will not break. I have cracked most of them, and the pain just was too much. I am feeling so much better. I should have gotten them out years ago. One cap was so gross under it no wonder my ear always hurt on that side.

Medications for depression, anxiety, ptds, and so much more can help, but finding the right balance is tricky. It has taken my doc a few years to finally get me to where I no longer wake up screaming. I could not have done it without my friends and family support. The love and light they share. Yet, I know they mean well, but sometimes I like to remember I am still a human.

It took a bird to help swing my medical and mental therapy into a direction that is working. Mr. Bird is pretty annoying at times. He is two years old and behaves like a two-year-old… WITH WINGS. Think for just a minute a two-year-old that can fly.

Let’s just say… I am not bored. He keeps me moving and gives me a reason to wake up. If I do not wake up he gets loud enough my kids will wake me up. He is loud, annoying, and amusing. His first week home he was getting curious about a food bowl that we had set up outside his cage. He fell in head first and wings and feet were flapping all over. He was not amused at the laughter my daughter and I got to share. He has brought a great deal of laughter in our home. The first day home I did not know he could fly as well as he does. We let him out of the box then I freaked out cause the ceiling fans were on. We have several fans to help keep us cool in the summer. He actually gets mad if I turn off some fans. He likes the “wind currents” is my best guess.

He has reminded me that trust needs to be earned. He trusts me and I trust him. He went from being untamed to where my daughter and I can handle him. He no longer hisses and bites me, and that is a good thing. He may only be a mini macaw, but his beak can still ratchet to snap and break seeds open and to just shred some wood for fun.

Here is a photo of Mr. Bird. He is a green cheeked conure that loves to watch bird videos with me. He even laughs when something is funny.


I will try to get more photos of my bundle of ornery joy. He is never still long enough to get real good photos. That is all I have to say for now. I will try to read some blogs, but this bird really is worse than a baby.






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Thank-you all who have been patient with me. I cannot express how much it means to me. Thanks for those that reached out to me during this time in my life. It is priceless what you give so freely. I wish everyone around the world could have such good friends(online & offline).

After losing my mother, my father, and my brother, I am no longer the person I used to be. I did go thru a time of being bitter and feeling the “why me’s”. Then I just became numb. It is easier not to feel then feel emotions. I have learned that it is my way of adapting. It is not a good way. It was a trap that grabbed me and held me tight. It kept me from interacting with others who have similar pain/s. As I recover from the damages of being trapped in another dank depression it will take time for me to figure out who I am.

My soul feels raw. Open. Ready. Yet, sleep grabs a hold of me. It is the only escape for me. It is not who I want to be. I think of stories and books that I want to write. Then I forget. So I started writing everything I wanted to remember down. Well, I have found myself trapped by the scattered papers, cards, and old journals.

My son finds me reading and scolds me telling me to ‘keep cleaning and stop wasting time’. Sadly, he learned those words from me just as I learned from my parents. It is genetic in more ways than one.

I dream of writing, but then remember that I was never good at grammar and writing. Spell check and Grammarly help remind me of what I do not know or remember. Then I am spiraling down into a triggered event that I fight not to return too. The fear of failure. The fear of not being good enough. The words rolling thru my head, but unable to be said or read.

Yet, as I lay in bed waiting for my pain to ease… one or more topics will keep my brain busy when my body needs to rest.

  • I think of my pain and why nothing helps to stop it.
  • I think of the horrors of this world and wish that they would stop.
  • I think of ways to bring peace to our world by helping those around me.
  • I think of teaching those that do not know.
  • I think of the prayers I send out for all my friends and family.
  • I think of the stories my soul wants to share.

Until I write again… Please, leave me helpful comments to help me find a way to organize my broken brain so that I can actually keep on topic with what I first started. I wonder if it is the PTSD meds that leave me so scattered or is it the PTSD itself. Lets, not forget all my pains from head to toe are why I take pain meds. I hate them… I get weird when I take them then I just sleep.



Missing Heart

My heart is broken. I am trying to find away to stitch the pieces of it together, but I have parts missing in my heart and memory. Some are returning in a good way and some in a bad way. My depression sunk me into sleeping so I do not have to feel this emptiness within me. I have no desire to write anymore. I cannot even focus enough to read long posts. I am on facebook because it is short sweet and I can use my phone where ever my body needs to be from bed to bath.

I am not sure where my life will grow from here. Right now the seed is waiting for the perfect time to start growing.

Spirit of a Woman

This beautiful video reminds me of my daughters who are now young women. It reminds me of my mother and grandmother who loved me. I spend as much time as I can with them. I am amazed to see my Mother in my daughters. Proof that everything in our lives can and will be recycled or repurposed.

“A Beautiful Dawn” sung by Radmilla Cody sings to my soulful wounds.

I know I have been gone for awhile. After my brother’s death I have not been able to get out of this heartbreak. I know it will get easier, but it will always be a scar on my heart. There are so many scars one more won’t hurt.?. Yes, more scars mean more pain.

SO quit worrying that I am out there freelancing my bum off. I have been in a pool of a dark deep depression. I thought I had been depressed before. The lose of a sibling proved I was wrong.

I have not given up writing. I am taking a well deserved break to put my broken pieces back together. If I am too broken I will recycle what I can and start over. Right now I feel scattered like a seeded dandelion blowing in the wind.

Yes, sometimes it does have to be about me.


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Yeah. I said it. This corner of my world is about my story. It is a heavy burden I am blessed to bear. I am still a human who has to cope. It is live or dye as if tomorrow

I am mad. I am mad. I am sad the most. There are no replays in life. Choose well, and you might find your way out of hell.

Cozy bed, good book, and attempting to relax…….

Who am I kidding? I just cannot relax. Panic attacks are very real. They twist the chemistry of my biological systems. They rip me out of now, and throw me into a chaos of a pain of another time.

Flashbacks have kept me in a strange place of abuse, neglect, and beating. I rarely know when that is happening me. Now the migraine has burrowed in my brain again.

I promise to read more blogs when my eyes are more rested. The grief I have is like a deep well. The more I seek the more I find and the deeper areas when I have no idea who I am.

It might be best to walk away and let the spirits guide us on this journey.

I am going to sleep and dream of what tomorrow will bring.

Up on Side and Down Another

I am at a turning point in my life where I am not certain if I am walking on the up hill or the down hill. I am so busy looking at my feet then I hit a wall. I dread being confined to my own head. Ice packs and lots of pillows. Seeking comfort in pillows and blankets is not doing my body any favors. I sleep in fits based on where my pain is each day. In my daughters I see the pain I had in my youth. I am blessed we have each other to support rather then deny pain. I know it well. Pain is not a very nice imaginary friend, but it will stick with you till the end.

I fight my pain to help my daughters learn to fight theirs. I see my life revealed in the turned table of Mother and Daughter…maybe more of a role change adventure. My heart breaks seeing in them the pain I had at their age. They are going thru the hoops with doctors armed with the knowledge that was unknown in the generation of my mother and myself.

Knowledge is power. The more we know about ourselves gives us the gumption to prevent, protect, and proceed. I am proud to call them my daughters! They are stoic.. stubborn.. driven to be the best.. patient.. kind.. loving.. and.. amazing young women.

Pain is a part of life, but it can drown your soul if you decide to hate rather then love unconditionally. It is so awesome to see in my daughters bits of my grandparents they never were blessed to know in person. I even can forgive my younger me because with my mother’s eyes I cry for the child who never knew how to be a child.

Rain Sounds

Pluviophile. A lover of rain. Those rainy days are the quiet days when all the noises of the universe are still. I love the dance of the circles as the rain drops land in the all puddles. Stepping outside to see nature dance and how each affect one another. The smell of the rain is the sweetest smell, and I always loved to dance in the rain.

Oh the stormy days blooming into blizzards,

It is really better then the south with lizards.

Ah the smell of home cooking…

My stomach longs for the days of fried gizzards.

But we survived the last blizzard.

Now is time to gather all frogs.

As the cool crisp air is replaced with smog

There will be no reason to learn to dance on logs

If they kill all the frogs.

Music to Amuse


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I see there is a daily prompt going around about music. I don’t know how to ping back or ring a ding but I know music soothes my soul. I have no idea how to feel sometimes until the music is playing. I love music but the ear piercing bands do get played at a lower volume.

Music defined my role in a world that was very cruel. It was my comfort while locked in my room. I know most of the songs word for word. I even would make music by singing and dancing. I loved it. The soft tones of my mother’s guitar, John Denver, Jim Croce, Johnny Cash, Cat Stevens, Don McLean. Those were the tones that helped me get past the various stages of my years from birth to present.

Elvis won my family’s interest. We had everyone of his songs, in 45’s or in Albums. I loved to dance and sing, but I had to be careful or the album would be scratched. Technology has been amazing. The world I knew is gone, and I like controlling what I listen too. I listen to whatever mood strikes. MP3 players are pretty awesome compared to the Walkman I never got.

I have seen bands like 3 Dog Knight to ZZ top. ZZ just rocked. It was the best concert I have ever attended. And the weirdest… Seen a girl reach down and pick up an ear plug and put it in her ear. Gross. The floor was sticky from all the beverages we could buy. Metallica, Kiss, ZZ, Bon Jovi, Def Leperad, Ozzy, and so many bands and songs I have heard from the metal arena. However, Metallica really surprised me. I seen them years ago at a state fair. That was a pretty great concert too! It felt like someone understood my pain the first time I heard the song in the video. Godsmack is another band that has surprised me. I could go on and on about metal, but I will spare you the gory details.

I love Celtic music. It fires up my blood like Night Wish and Sabaton. It can soothe and comfort with Celtic Women and Celtic Thunder. Some songs they sing makes my heart sing. The dancing I cannot do, but I love a good Celtic concert with all the traditional dances. The lullabies helped when I learned to take care of it myself.

Native flutes in all ranges and sizes soothe my soul. It is like having someone else in the world that understands. The drums pull my heart and soul and bring energy into my spiritual world. The rhythm and the rhyme changes based on the drummer. I cannot explain it because no one would believe it. It is a light in our souls that guides us based on our thoughts.

Sometimes I listen to the Rain at Rainy Moods. Especially when I am having a panic attack and need to rest. It is a battle I have with insomnia. It is a good way for me to cope. I try out various songs and sounds because technology has grown much farther then I thought possible.

Until the next time…