You will always have one foot in and out no matter how much you want to have both in as long as you’re not able to be completely honest with them or at least with your mom. Because you so desperately want things to be all good again but a part of you feels like you’re hiding this huge part of what happened to you and why you did the things you did but you don’t want to hurt them by telling them. While at the same time it’s eating you alive especially the more time you spend with them and think about them.

Who Am I?

Nature has a great way of reminding us of its simple pleasures! This photo was taken on Clito Road in Spring Valley, VA—high up in the hills of Appalachia. There is no filter used. Back then, the only filters ever used were by professional photographers. The intensity of the sun when I pointed my old Samsung flip phone at it back in the early 2000’s basically blocked out most of the color except for the pink halo in the sky. You can’t tell from looking at the picture, but it was one of those hot summer days where the sky was so clear it was almost translucent. The hills and grass were also green, not gray as they appear in this photo. That doesn’t mean the content of the photo doesn’t point towards greener pastures and bluer skies, though.

Has your heart ever been so heavy and broken? Have you been through so much that you just become so drained and lost? That you are searching for your identity. I am going through that now. I decided to be like a magician and do a disappearing act and delete all social media platforms. Become a ghost per se. As a writer that is something hard to do; when my doctor laid me off work and writing is my life now, other than my son. I am healing from so much that I have to disappear to find me.

Society.

Today was a typical Sunday Day. I woke up to a bright sunny day, a tad cold, but not freezing 🥶🥶. Which is crazy for January/February....

I saw you today. The real you. The scars you hide. You think just because they aren't on the skins surface that some of us can't see you. I see you, because I am you. I know the self harm, the addiction to cutting your flesh because it calms your soul. But, but what about us that cut the soul to calm the flesh Those of us that float in the higher plains of the abyss. Where cutting the flesh doesn’t matter because we thrive on an higher realm and our souls are what absorb all the pain the is inflicted on us. We feel the pain so hard, we can literally feel the lashes of the whip on our bones. We wear these scars in our eyes. In our tones. In our smile. In the way we love someone or don't love them. Therefore, causing our cuts to be much more deeper then just the skins surface. Literallyfeeling our hearts tear a little at a time every time someone else just as fucked up as we are picks at our flaws and weaknesses, just so they can deal with their wounds a little easier. We feel that dagger in our sides, backs, hearts as they twist and turn, sliding deeper with every thrust. We carve out our little words of de-affirmation so that we never forget that feeling we felt when we were scorned, belittled, embarrassed, ripped open. I am that person, that person is me. I am the self harmed that hides the cuts within my body. Cut me open and you will see, all my little reminders of how unkind this world has been to my soul. My heart frayed at the edges and black in the center. All the little words that act as thumbnails, that when spoken I'll never forget that feeling. A smell that will forever remind me of the turmoil I have felt. I am the girl that was sexually, emotionally, mentally abused by those that she trusted and by those that she should have never trusted at all. I am that girl with no real friends. Everyone surrounding her, just in it for themselves until their need of her is fulfilled and then to the wayside she goes. The girl always left holding the shit end of the stick. The girl giving her all, just to never be good enough. The girl that can't stand being in her own skin, much less let anyone look at it, touch it, taste it. The constant question arising will this shit ever end? Will I ever be good enough? Only to realize in the end that she is who she is because she feels on a higher level because she deals on a higher level. She hasn't sat on the bench waiting to play the game. No, she has been in the ring for 10 rounds going head to head with life as it kicks her in the face time and time again. People in the crowd telling her to give up, Why are you still in the ring? Her looking them in the eye and smiling, as she bleeds internally, as she licks the blood off her fist, "because I am a warrior." While her scars are internal, she knows that these are scars that molded her into who she is and who she will be. What her legacy will be builtShe will take the good and release the bad. She will sleep for days to recover from her wounds, just to get back up and fight some more. So you…. Yes you…. Don't be afraid to show your scares. Embrace them, for they are beautiful and so are you.

So, the other day your girl (that's me) got a new job... now this is a very big opportunity for me. I would be making triple what I make now and I could finally save up to become a little more independent than I am currently (I still live at home).

Every autistic person receives the same diagnosis: Autism spectrum disorder.  The '' symptoms'' of autism can vary from person to person. Autistic people can be moderate autistic others are high on the spectrum, and autism affects every area of their lives. Over the last years, several campaigns tried to educate the public about the different symptoms of autism and raised awareness about a condition which affects millions of people worldwide. Yes, it affects millions of ''people''. People, human beings no matter what gender they have. 

The blood trickled down into my eyes, clouding my vision as the pain raced through my right leg and forehead.....and grew exponentially as I pulled myself from the wreckage of my 4Runner onto a carpet of saw briars, each one inch long, that tore through my hands, clawed my back like ravenous teeth , and raked skin from the back of my bald head. I tried to stand but the broken bones in my upper right leg screamed, and I collapsed again onto the carpet of briars.

It was the eve of December 12, 2015 that I would end up embarking on my journey to becoming a man...