A Mess of a Blog!

Today I was running around, trying to get all my work done and I was having a hard time catching my breath. So I have been calling a local Pulmonologist (sp?) to make an appointment. I just can not abide with this proposed course of blood thinners, all the while not knowing where this blood clot came from! I am like a dog with a bone, and it is just worrying me to death!

Anyway, I think I have somehow turned all my readers away…(sad face…) I have been talking too much about things people don’t want to hear, I suppose. I wish there was a way to know what I am doing wrong. I think I enabled the comment feature, so perhaps I will get some feedback about my Blog.

I think it looks pretty nice, but that’s just me. I like this theme, and how each picture moves when you mouse over it. I put a static page up tonight, perhaps I was overloading my site with pictures. Isn’t it funny, I am so co-dependent that I actually want to configure my blog the way complete strangers want it, not myself! Perhaps that is the problem, in a nutshell. It could be that I’m just trying too hard to be helpful, to impress, to be popular, to be read. Could it be that I am writing my blog for the wrong reasons?

I used to keep my journal just for my hidden thoughts, private and secret. I wrote to a person, a confidant, a friend who was really a part of myself, I guess. I know I have been depressed for the better part of my life, and my family was messed up, so I needed a safe place to unload. The anger, the loneliness, the doubts and fears-it all poured out of me onto the page.

I am an artist, so I would draw elaborate pictures of fantasy places and people, my imagination running free. I don’t draw much anymore, and my poetry seems to have dried up lately. I have had spells where I will go for a year without expressing myself. It  usually happens when I am very, very sick mentally, emotionally.

I felt today Like a caged panther, pacing her cage, ready to burst free and run to the highest mountains, to escape and never look back. It has been too long, too many years trapped here. A dutiful daughter thinking this way… I am going mad, seeing myself in all insanity’s amazing facets.

I feel myself disappearing more each day, becoming a person I never wanted to be, ever again. I must hold on with all my strength, and all my faith. I am crying out into the darkness and hoping I hear myself…

Author: ST Martin

I am an Artist, Poet and Author. A Survivor of Violent Sexual Abuse and Rape, I have lived thru Severe Domestic Violence, Twenty Three years of Addiction and Alcoholism, Family Dysfunction, Chronic Pain, Dependence on Opioids, and 2 Venomous Snake Bites...I have Been Stabbed, Shot at, Tied to a Tree and Choked Unconscious. A Quarter Horse Rolled on Me, as did a Lawn Tractor. I also Wrecked a Harley into a Tree! I also have PTSD and Rapid Cycling Bipolar Disorder, and spent my 18th birthday in a Locked Psychiatric Ward. I am so much more than this: I feel like a tiny seed that sprouted in a desert, and now has grown into a Passion Vine. My Art is my Voice, Screaming, Crying, Praying, Loving, Laughing, Healing- all in Riotous Color...

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