I am so grateful to all of you that have left likes or comments. Thank you. I am grateful for re-blogs and support likes, like I think yours are Jim. I am grateful to be able to have a voice because I know it is not for granted. I am grateful to be able to think, write and feel. I am grateful for so many gifts in my life, and I am even grateful for being grateful. Thankfulness is a wonderful medicine against negative and destructive patterns.
I am grateful that I no longer believe we are born to fit in, rather to stand out.
Yes, and even though this is hard and requires courage barely within my possession it fuels me. I am not brave, and only in parts I play as pinched from clay I may appear so. It is hard to stick to my chosen route, the different, controversial and eye-opening one. For that is not the path of least resistance and by the crowd it is not favoured. I chose authenticity and honesty. Why be a copy when it is never as good as the original? To stand in one’s truth is not a given either. So, I am thankful for that too. I choose the attitude of gratitude.
You see, having recovered from mental illness so severe that it is beyond the general population to grasp, I am here. On the other side of its blinding, deafening and crippling grip, I am here. I lost myself in the first twenty four years of my life, and I did not have a clue of what it was like to have an identity. Causing today’s thank fullness that words could never cover. No longer am I a voice broken into a million pieces. Crushed and shattered non-communication of unsound sounds of a person gone is gone. The victim of lost identity found. Safe and sound as my actions are no longer out of my hands. My fall into nothingness with its fractured barely observed screams is a far cry from today.
I am no longer all alone and unloved. In the present I am healthy, functioning and loved. Not by many, but by a precious few and that is all that matters. I died in mental illness because of the absence of love. Love is life, and to it I am devoted <3. And even though echoes of the past still haunt me, I refuse to be an echo. Love has found its voice.
Not about the things you can see
For that has already be done
Refuse to be an echo
Instead, let yourself unfurl into passages
of newborn love
For that has never be done and;
Cannot come undone