Crushing Consternation : Day 78 #100daysofwriting

Galaxies
Written on dusty palms
Constellations
Crushed under tired heels
Words half heard
Forgotten
Thrown back
Angry lashings
Sea on stone
Worn down by words
Expectations
Snapped and dangerous
Wielded like swords
To fight a horrible fight
Wave after wave
Crashing
Crushing
Hands slap
Mock applause
Galaxies smear
Heels click
Exhausted

Unmade Bed : Day 55 #100daysofwriting

I found this quote by Moriah Pearson a few days ago and it struck a chord. 

I spend too much time wishing I was "normal" - whatever that means. I've been through a few things and I'm a little  messy. I suppose the difference is that I don't pretend to be all neat and tidy, without creases and perfect hospital corners. I honestly prefer an untucked bed myself. If everything is tucked in I kick all the covers loose so I can cocoon in the layers. 

I think I'd rather come across as comfortable and approachable, rather than perfect and fragile. Someone to be wrapped up with, with a couple of creases, a lived in life... Yup, loving the metaphor.

Insignificant? #100creativedays Day 11

"All that happens means something; nothing you do is ever insignificant." - Aldous Huxley

Sometimes I forget about the things I've achieved, the battles I've fought and the blessings I've received. This isn't supposed to be an emotional ramble, rather just a manifesto of sorts to remind myself that I do manage to be great, creative, loved and brave everyday. Every.Single.Day.

I was beating myself up about the weight I've put on over the last few weeks - too many good times, too much stress, too much temptation! The 18th of May marks a year since the Squire and I launched into our Dukan way of life, and I was lamenting the fact that I am not at my lowest weight. The Squire reminded me that I was still 10kgs lighter than a year ago!

I still feel like a hot stressful mess. I'm afraid of meeting new people and having to explain my sobriety... Close on 7 months of sobriety. I should be proud of myself, not afraid, I've been courageous and the whole thing is a huge testament to God's guidance in my life.

I sometimes feel lonely and long for the loves I've lost. I seem blind to the incredible love and support of friends and family at times. The utter devotion of my sweet Arizona, who right now is snuggled up against my leg on the couch.

Even with this challenge to "be creative" everyday for 100 days, I sell myself short and forget that writing is creative. That it is a gift, that some people can't even compose an sms, let alone write a paragraph. I forget because I just like writing. I forget that a lot of people are not open like I am. That I am brave, not stupid to open myself up. I am honest. I am not a victim.

I am grateful for the people in my life, the people who have crossed my path, all the experiences - even if I want to scrunch up my nose and discard certain experiences - I am grateful that nothing in my life is, nor am I, insignificant.