Anxiety is easy.

​I’ve been hearing more people talk about mental illness & that makes me really happy. You see, so many people that don’t have it/have never experienced it, are incredibly misinformed. They think that simply because someone takes medicine or has to go to therapy, or lives their life a little differenty…it somehow makes them a “lesser” person. That they lack some of the things that a “normal’ person needs to thrive in life.
Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.
& those who do suffer find they’re incredibly misunderstood (they are) & fear sharing their struggles because of the weird looks they’ll get (Oh, do they get them), or the friendships & relationships that may shift(I’ve lost a bunch back when it was the hardest). Or job opportunities lost, because no one wants a “weak” employee. & to be honest, no one deserves that. Comparably it’s what I would imagine a Cancer patient fearing once they fell someone they’re sick; that look. People do view you differently. They look at you like you’re a sick puppy. & feel bad for you, but stay at bay. When all we want is for someone to walk along side us & say, “I get you’re struggling & even if I don’t understand what you’re going through.. I’m here if you need me.”
Folks, that’s it.
I struggled with awful, paralyzing anxiety for nearly a decade of my life, if not more. & most people never knew. Because I got really good at hiding it & not allowing that burden to fall on anyone. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve always been an incredibly happy, grateful, thankful girl even though the pain… But there were some dark days as well. & although I fought through most of the pain alone (by choice) & am stronger than I ever imagined I could be on the other side of heartache… Some people aren’t so lucky.
Through countless days of uncertainty & crippling thoughts, I would always pray, “Why?” “Why me?” & I asked that hundreds of times a day…for what was years. I knew there had to be purpose in my pain. But all I heard was crickets. That even though I cried myself to sleep most nights, said no to events I’d normally rush to accept, missed out on football & baseball games, family affairs of climbing mountains, or only ate when my mom sat me down & watched to make sure I did. I still had hope in the purpose of my pain.
I see it now. I hear what I’m supposed to do. & I want to answer that call. But it’s still a little blurry. I truly want to be a voice for those who are broken, bruised, lost, & hopeless. For those who suffer & dont have anyone in their circle they think could ever understand. Girl, that’s me! Boy, I’m here! 
I’m not sure how I’m gonna do this, but its something I want to tread lightly in. If you have any suggestions, send them my way please.
& if you suffer from any of the awful mental illnesses out there, they aren’t your fault. And I’m here for you, boo. 
Thanks for listening sweet ones..  Love you the most..💛💛https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=10154088463986491&id=10606591490

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High on loving you.

So I’ve been juggling with the fact of wanting to actually come back and write on my blog. It’s been a long time.

Writing makes me happy. I read & journal everyday.

It’s something I’ve done for the longest time. Something just for me. And I find because it’s “mine” I get really weary of sharing that part of me. It’s almost become sacred.

But here I am.

Have you ever had signs repeatedly smack you across the face? & you still keep walking past them, hoping eventually they’ll fade away or get blurry? Nope, just me?

For those of you who don’t know me… I am a big believer in signs, more specifically energy.

& because of that, I’ve been putting out feelers into the universe hoping that they would come back with the kind of answer I’d like to hear. Well, they did. But more forceful than ever. I’ve had multiple people (recently) telling me my writing is beautiful, my writing saved them, my writing gave them inspiration, or hope. & these were thing I never thought I’d hear. But I did. & even though I think people are being overly nice, I try to accept the compliment and keep listening to that still small voice. Because my writing isn’t about me, it’s about you. It’s just something I’ve been called to do. To shine light and love into the world the best way I know how.

See, for as long as I can remember I’ve wanted to be a voice for those who don’t have one. The bruised, the broken, the homeless. Not to speak over them, but for them. I know so many people that have simply let the light just die out inside because they think they’re all alone. They think they’re unlovable. They think because they’ve made a few mistakes and taken several detours, that make them unworthy of love. and if that’s you, you’re 100% wrong. 100%.

I can see how you would feel that. Maybe you’ve stolen from someone. Maybe you’ve cheated on someone. Maybe you’ve physically hurt someone, or said something you can’t take back.. But that’s the thing about life, everyday we wake up with air in our lungs–that’s a chance to become better. To evolve into the human we both know we can be, the best version. To find the right path, our calling. It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve felt down and out about life. It really doesn’t matter about the mistakes you’ve made, as long as you’ve recognized what you did was wrong & asked whomever for forgiveness, including yourself. Because that’s the things, we’re all in this together. We ALL make mistakes and sin differently than the next.

There are most likely demons in my closet you don’t or wont ever know about. We don’t necessarily share that with others, because who likes to share the worst parts about ourselves? No one wants people to see them as weak, or tired, or scared. & something that I’ve been learning more these days is that I can’t do this alone. I can give all my prayers up to God but if I don’t reach out to others that are on Earth… I’ll be struggling for quite a while. But opening up your heart, no matter what… & allowing your vulnerability help the next, that’s where the healing comes into play. & allowing all of your flaws to become a part of who you are… & to shape you into who you’re meant to be. No matter if you feel unqualified, you aren’t.

I truly want people to know that they are loved, always. No matter what you think about yourself. It doesn’t matter if you’re homeless, anxious, you have a physical ailment, an alcoholic, someone who may have been abused in the past… You. Are. Loved. & I am here to make sure you remember it.