Let Me Tell You What I Wish I Had Known and What I Now Share For You

"Let me tell you what I wish I'd known

When I was young and dreamed of glory

You have no control

Who lives, who dies, who tells your story"

Shouting. Angry words meant to tear the opponent down are thrown throughout the room.

Bounce off the walls, increasing in volume.

It rises to the ears of a child who was not meant to hear them. With trembling hands that same child turned off the television set, crouched at the door and buried her head in her hands.

The poor thing did not know what her parents were saying nor what it meant.

All she knew to do was keep her hands over her head.

That was just the beginning.

That little girl was me.

"Death doesn't discriminate

Between the sinners and the saints

It takes and it takes and it takes"

I stare at a piece of paper scared for the first time that my words might reach. They always reached to this woman and even death has not changed that.

I would talk to the trees that she loved to sit with me under, I would go by her house just to show myself that I had not forgotten the way, I talk to the sky on a clear day because those are the ones that she liked best.

I talk to her on paper now because I feel so far away from the world.

It has lost all the color, all the brightness, all meaning. I see a world that is falling apart at the seams, same as I.

I see a world that will slowly destroy itself from the inside out. Same as I.

This one last letter will be a testament to my life and legacy.

That I died more broken and confused than when I began. That I made no difference to this world and no one was touched by my actions, my life.

None of it would mean a thing. . .

"And when you're gone, who remembers your name?

Who keeps your flame?

Who tells your story?"

I used to dream of what it would be like to be anyone else. To have a different life, different outlook, different circumstances. Each and every one making it harder and harder to live in reality.

I could not choose to change the past that was given to me.

I could not change what was around me.

I lost all sense of control. I was powerless to speak. I was powerless to make something of myself.

I got my sense of control by giving it to something that could hurt me and I will never be able to go back from (food addiction).

I lost myself and for the longest time it looked as I would never get a handle on my life, on my relationships, and on my mind.

"I put myself back in the narrative"

Then I stopped looking at myself.

I see more destruction and hurt as my eyes are opened to a truth that I was too selfish to see. I had wanted to be angry and bitter to a world that did nothing but bring me misery.

Then I saw others who felt the same.

I opened my eyes to the hurt, pain, and struggle.

The difference was, I had found my voice. I had found my confidence and I felt as if I had nothing left to lose.

Hands that had once written for my eyes alone now are a flurry of motion in an effort to write for others now.

If only one person in any way can feel understood or heard because of it then it will be enough and I will be satisfied.

"I stop wasting time on tears"

"And I'm still not through"

And in this I will never want for anything more. I have learned long ago that death does not let you take the money, the stuff, the position that you fought your whole life for.

No.

In this I have learned something greater.

To fight for others, to fight for the right to feel heard and leave nothing unspoken.

I have nothing to stand on and nothing to lose. I have nothing to offer except for these words.

But here is the power that comes from within and that is the message you breathe into them. If I may never speak again, if my mouth is silenced, if my pen is broken, if my hands can no longer move I will write.

I will write because that is all I can give.

I have a message and I have the words. I have a will and desire. I have a call to speak and speak I will do, but never for myself.

I am done with that.

I have had ENOUGH!

I have wasted all the time I could have been helping others feeling sorry for something that just cannot change. Nor do I want it to so why in the world would I keep on fighting a battle that is not even real?

Those of you who are reading, those of you who are watching, have so much more in you and who am I to waste your time in that way? If I am going to move forward than may the message stay.

No matter where you are in life, what you are struggling with, you deserve to speak and be heard. Keep on fighting and enduring because there is always a resolution.

I hated when people told me all that I could be and do when they did not know my mind, my heart, my desires. But going through the fire and surviving has been a pattern of life for so many.

I will not allow the world and their assumptions to make you feel as if your voice is on of billions. At least there is one more.

You speak your truth. You say your story because you are not someone to be ignored.

You are strong and courageous. Not many can fight the battles you have fought and come out just as strong.

Even if you feel weak in this moment, you struggled through and persevered.

It does not go away once it is over. The hurt will still be there. Time and distance do not completely heal rather it lessens the pain, but know that you are heard and loved.

Know that your story is worth hearing.

Let love and hope resound in your heart, in your message, and in your life. We can all be surprised by the changes that it can make.