About Me

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SHE GIVES HER BATTLES TO GOD, AND LIVES IN PEACE ������


It was like an ordinary day. When all a women wants to do is go out with her girls and be women. I've had many failed attempts at dating. I have met the most disgusting excuse for a "man". All they ever were to me was useless and a waste of space. Honestly I couldn't think of anything more worse. It was as if Cupid kept striking the wrong person. Or it seemed I was just to over my head. Whatever the case may be. I came to the most  simplistic choice. Dating was just not for me. I was at a point in life where I needed to work on me. I had to choose me for once. This time I wasn't putting myself second. I was going to take care of my needs. I needed a whole lot of TLC and time off. It was just what the doctor called for. When I started worrying about what I needed most everything seemed to fall into place. It wasn't just because that's just what people tell you and boom everything's great. Life became manageable because I found peace within my heart. I went on a self discovering adventure to realize I was worth it. Life is really worth living. Along my searching I found faith, triumph, adrenaline and compassion. Compassion not only to those who have done me wrong but compassion to myself. I believe in all that I do. I stand up for my rights as an individual. I don't let anyone degrade me. I refuse to be that victim I once was. I don't believe in just being a survivor but a learner. I learned the most difficult lessons. Cherry blossoms are but one of my many favorite types of trees because the saying behind them is just beautiful. They blossom in the most difficult times. I know that is what happens with most of us. We become molded into our final creations. It became time I helped others find this peace of mind. This strength that blossomed within me. I decided it was time for a girls night. A night where we can dress how we want to, wear make up of all kinds and bring men to their knees. I finally got the courage to be comfortable in my own skin. We went to a club where I had friends there. We danced all night, got a couple of well earned drinks, and had a good time. Towards the end of the night we came across a bunch of guys. They seemed like they had good intentions.. I wasn't sure. I just know a lot of guys didn't have the best intentions. I could see it in their face or the way they looked at us. As if we weren't human but a doll to them. I was careful to go to close to these people. Finally we started talking to them. My friend was arguing with two of them automatically. I just shook my head in awe. I tried to ignore the fact that we were in the military but she brought it up. Then they all were talking about it. I kept eyeing one of them. He was the cutest out of all of them. He was quiet at first but then he started chirping too. I didn't know what to think until we all went back to my friends house. We drank more and sat down. I started talking to each one of the guys individually. I wanted to know who they were obviously since we all ended up here. Regardless I had that one guy stuck on my mind. He was just dreamy. As I talked to everyone else they seemed nice. I just lost interest automatically. Until finally it came to me talking to this one guy. I wasn't sure about him because I saw him yelling in this heated discussion. I just took it as him being passionate about his work and what he does. I am a very passionate person. I take everything personal. I have no shame in that. As we talked I got all these butterfly emotions. He was strong, handsome and had this cute boyish vibe about him that drove me crazy. We laughed and talked all night. I sat next to him on the couch until they left. For some reason I just was drawn to this guy. Out of the whole pick of the liter. This one guy was catching my eye. Thankfully he asked me for my number. I felt like he had to have liked something about me. I wasn't sure? Was he into me? Other than my crazy co worker/ friend was screaming up a storm. She was as calm as a cat in a whirlpool. However he kept his gaze on me too. Throughout the whole night. I knew he was deploying. I was leaving too. I was leaving at this point for my recovery. I just had a super girl crush moment and thought that was it. I wasn't going to hear from him again. There was no way. Especially with him being such a hunk. I continued on with my life. I would bring up that night to my friend all the time. She would just listen. Out of all the guys in the world
, all the ones buying us drinks, and asking us to go with them. I chose that guy. I literally said if we aint leaving with them we aint leaving with anyone else. I wanted to go with them. Not only because they seemed less creepier than the rest of the guys. I felt a spark. I felt a spark as grand as the fourth of July. I'm glad it seemed like he liked me. Yet once it became morning they left. I heard from him the next morning. One of the last times for a while. We would exchange small conversation back and forth until finally he asked me out. I would gossip or have moments where I would tell my friend omg he is sooooo cute what should I say??? Should I ask him out? What if he says no? What if he says yes? What should I wear? I don't want him to think I'm a harlot. I also didn't want him to think I was a prude. I have been called that many times. I just wanted him to see me as a normal women. What should I do? Or we do? I was lost for words. I spent that whole day jumping up and down. After one night of being together I already felt comfortable. We spent that whole day trying to find him an outfit. We joked, laughed found some food to munch on. We explored each other that night. We finally found a bar with a rooftop.



Nick and I started dancing the rest of the night.. He asked me to dance and no one else was dancing. I hesitated because I didn't want to seem foolish. Nick seemed persistent. I couldn't say no. We were the only ones that night. I couldn't see anyone else. He kissed me. I swear in that moment we were timeless. I just fell and he had me ever since that moment. We were inseparable from then on. Nick had a way of making me feel beautiful. I never felt like I had to hide anything from him. He was easy to talk to. He was such a hunk. Nick was handsome. Maybe to handsome. Is that a thing? I got intimidated at times. I could stare at him all day. I just adored him. We started doing everything together. It came naturally for us to just be together. We would go on dates, watch movies , talk about life, and eat many many many foods. I started caring for another person deeply. It wasn't unusual for me to pick at pieces of a human soul and find something beautiful about them but he was something more. He had everything in a human which brought fire blazing in my soul. It brought passion and light which was empty for such a long time. Nick was such a strong alpha male but with me he was trying to let down his walls. I could see how fragile he would try to hold me. He seemed genuinely caring. I could tell he wasn't used to talking intimately with someone. That just made me fall more and more in love with him. He was smart, funny, charismatic, handsome, loving and trust worthy. Every time I looked at him. I just knew he was the one for me. Throughout a life time you might get feelings for someone but never in a million years did I believe I could feel this much. It could all be surreal. This man I see everyday is my bestfriend. He is a piece of me which I believe was meant to be there the whole time. He and I were just meant to be. Whatever my soul is made of his is made of the same thing. I would tell him my tales. I let him know my life stories. They spilled like a dam busting open after years of trying to hold everything in. I was scared of telling him. I honestly nervous. I knew there was somethings he wouldn't want to hear. Who would? I had a dark past full of broken promises and lies. I had people my whole life trying to fix me. I don't talk to my family. My family is myself. Would he accept that? I could just pray he would be open to what I have to say. I grew up with a family who loved possessions. I get half crazy at times. I barley knew what love was. I have a temper. I have done stupid things in my life. Trusted the wrong people. I get sick easily. I have a monument of issues. I didn't want to scare him off but its a part of me. I have tried to block everything out. Yet he needed to know these things. When I open up and tell him. All he does is listen. He listens and holds me while I spill my lost hope. He is an angel. Nick has been the only person in my life who I've been able to believe in. It was if he was a gift. He was a piece of heaven who restored my faith not only in man but in life. I grew fond of our relationship. I knew I wanted something more. I wanted to keep feeling these feelings of love, hope and growth. He shines so bright. He never asks for anything. He never abuses me. Nick shows me to live for today and hope for tomorrow. I feel like he is the healing hands to all the torture I've ever been through. It could seem like every fairy tale romance to others but for me its love. Even if I know little of it. I know what love is not. I have never really felt it. As I got older I discovered it through bonds with others. Friends, distant family and living this life. I am at home with him. All he does is give. He has given me unconditional love. We have been through a lot already. Days keep passing. I wonder if its humanly possible to love someone this much.




Volunteering seemed to be another escape to enduring the marine corps. I had been volunteering with my command. We did fashion shows, building stuff, cleaning base, and finally we had a Halloween theme. I loved everything about it. I wasn't sure what costume I could wear or which one I wanted to but then this one came up. I wanted to be apart of the day of the dead. I wore white flowers because that was the only ones I had. Everyone kept commenting on the fact that white wasn't a good color choice. Yet little did they know it was actually a very colorful ceremony. I was actually pretty satisfied with how it all turned out.  


We set up. I helped some with their costumes because they did not know how to even begin to put on make up. I usually like putting on regular make up with costume make up because it helps in the design aspect of it. I was excited to do this. I was also very happy around this time because this insanely cute guy I had a crush on for the longest time asked me out finally. Finally! I cant express it enough. I haven't enjoyed Halloween this much since I took first place in my costume contests. Cute guy, volunteer work, and amazing October celebration check.
I've had moments where I just wanted to fly. I wanted to spread my arms out really wide and sore through the sky. As Peter Pan had done so in never land. For as long as I could remember, I had invisioned myself with wings. Don't get me wrong, I was scared of heights. Yet the feeling of free falling thrilled me. How beautiful it would be to be able to spread your wings out and let the wind take you. When everything which could possibly go wrong did. Taking a trip to the coast seemed like a great idea. That's just what my friends and I did. We planned it out of the blue, and made a trip to jump out of a plane. I was nervous on our ride there. I've gone cliff jumping, roller coaster rides and even stood on the edge of mountains. Yet nothing could compare to soaring in the sky. I had adrenaline. The highest case of it too. 





After we spent time watching everyone else take their jumps it was finally our turn. We saddled up and rode with the motion. I was shrieking with joy at this point. Taking all kinds of pictures and videos of what I was about to do. Many people would fear new things. I embraced them. Only for the simple fact of being shackled down. I was at a point so extremely low in life. I needed to venture out. I had urges to life a life acknowledging fear but not letting it consume me. On the plane ride up I felt a sickness. It was a type of motion sickness. I started getting nervous. The instructors said the only way to come down was to jump. We weren't landing with the plane. I automatically started debating my life decisions. Soon after I just realized I spent good money on this ride. I didn't want to waste it. I was tired wasting my life away. We got up to the sky. I decided I would jump out last. I was farthest from the door regardless. When the instructor moved us up I knew it was about to happen. I looked outside the hatch to only feel the huge burst of wind hitting my face. I had one of those moments of "what did I just do" kind of thing but felt joy. We jumped. I could only feel adrenaline at this point. I felt overwhelming joy. I fell in love with free falling in the sky. I looked around everywhere. It was beautiful. I felt the cool breeze. I felt alive. It was in this moment where I knew I was ready to heal. I was ready to take my life back in my hands. I was ready to overcome all the evil in my life.
Living. The only word that seemed to be doing laps around my thoughts. I became obsessed with trying to find ways I could feel what I as thinking. I wanted the rush, loss of control and awakening. I felt as if the adrenaline would help my blood pressure rise. It would help me feel alive. I decided to just agree with things I would normally not want to take part it, simple things really.


I went to RSS North Carolina with a couple of friends from work. She was a beautiful ship. The view was amazing. I couldn't believe it actually held as many man as it said. I was cramped in there. I would grow mad. You couldn't do anything without someone always watching.
It was a great experience to visit a place new. I have lived in North Carolina for about 3 years now and still have yet to be on this ship. I also lived in Wilmington for a while. I walked along the dock for weeks. I never really thought about going across the bridge to visit this monument. It was a great history lesson and I was glad I branched out to finally do anything outside my room.

There wasn't much time to experience everything, but we saw such great things. The officers of course had the best spaces. Especially the medical officers. The dentist office looked scary as heck. I would never go there not even for a tooth ache. On second thought probably would. They did have a lot of medicine. The surgical room was by far the creepiest. I felt the gloom being there. The medical facilities always have intrigued me with how they used to do things to now. Overall this was a whole day trip which ended with watching suicide squad at the base theatre for free. The pre showing was amazing.




I went to SC for the first time not doing marine corps related exercises. For the first time in a long time. I was completing something on my bucket list. To visit Myrtle beach. I have read stories on this place, flew over this place and even had pictures of it. Yet I never had the courage to go. I didn't really have anyone who I would want to go with either. I wanted to go and have fun. I didn't just want to go to parties. On the way there I was excited. I had hope it would be everything I wanted.



The sea life they had was pretty great. I was able to touch the little jellies on their head. It felt like a boob implant. That's probably what they use not going to lie. I liked how they sparked in the water. It felt dangerous but thrilling.  Watching the mermaids dance was amazing too. If that could be my job I'd leave the marine corps really quick. They were swimming with turtles and manta rays. I would love to do that. I grew very fond of the ocean being on the west coast in California. My love for the ocean grew each and every time. I think it has to do with my fear of the unknown. The waves crashing and energy gives me such a rush.


The town life was pretty great too. There was people everywhere! I didn't know where to start. I loved being down there. All different types of places we visited. I was going insane! We rode on the Ferris wheel which overlooked the town. I saw all the carnival games. It was like all the pictures I had kept on this place. When I walked across the beach it felt amazing. I jumped in and had life fill me. I was blessed to be alive. I was happy to feel something. I was happy with my decision to come here finally after all this time of dreaming. I finally came out. I usually hate being around a lot of people but these were people looking for the same thing as me. The ocean, happiness, and freedom.





Being back in NC wasn't much of a difference. I know time changes but people really don't. I thought that work would be different too. I suppose I have to much faith in people. I was gone for a couple of months. The faces seemed to be the same. Yet they were people unknown to me. I had medical appointments to go to. All to many to keep track of. I don't know how I made it to all. I had a coordinator, doctors, specialists, and my command focusing on my next moves. I would slowly grow angry at the fact that people could make up their minds about me all to soon. When I came back.  I had gotten skinny to the point of fragile. I had become weak. My speech was always mumbled. I had to take hours off of work due to the fact I couldn't concentrate. I tried to dive right in to the fight. I came in trying to run the show. Some of my command still had confidence in me. I had to prove to them I did. Even if it was slowly crushing me. I didn't understand how I could grow so mad? The angry was simply boiling. I either would be pushed to be like everyone else, or I would be held as an example of broken dreams. I was once great. I stood my ground. No one could win an argument with me. This wasn't the case anymore. I had to deal with gossip, broken promises, painful medical treatments and being put on the chopping block. I couldn't take it. I was hurting in a way which seemed inhumanly possible. There was a point I just couldn't take it. The weight of the world was on my shoulders to the point I just sat there in defeat. My doctors were pushing a med board on me. I had no choice in the matter. They asked if I was capable of getting over what I had been through. I said yes. I said yes because in that moment I was wearing my woodlands. I wasn't thinking about if Patty could get over this, but if a marine could. I winced with pain. It was like someone had ripped out my soul. I was empty. I grew frustrated at the fact I couldn't adjust to what my command needed from me. I had failed them by having my heart on my sleeve. Showing every emotion I had on display. I was never afraid to show who I really was inside. I still am unafraid to express what is on my mind. When I came back I saw my CWO's facial expression of defeat. He was disappointed. I could tell he didn't know what to do. I felt ill just looking at him. I felt like a scolded child who's parents had disowned them. I felt such dishonor. I couldn't even look him in the eyes without tears flowing down my face. I disgraced the men who had such confidence in me. Soon after I became a walking zombie. I was sinking back into the women who's demons filled her head and drowned her in her sleep. I woke up in excruciating pain. I was done hearing gossip from my peers who once saw greatness fail, from guys who begged for affection then only had jealousy for the person who got to me first, women who admired everything I did,  who mocked me for everything that was taken from me. I went out and was reckless. I drank and drank until I couldn't think of anything logical. I ended up talking to one of my friends who spoke to me all night. He heard every cry. I was screaming in such torment. I was finally letting out the nightmares which haunted me everyday. I was confessing the fear, lose, and heart ache any human would be lost for words. He called someone who was near to us and we all spoke. I was just kicking and screaming with such might. Yet they didn't give up on me. Throughout the screaming, crying and slamming things around. They had made it clear they weren't going to leave me alone. I wasn't alone. I am grateful for them being there for me on a night I was ready to throw in the towel. I gave up. Cold hearted shame spilling out every crevasses. It was this moment I found ultimate darkness.  The devil held out his hand for a dance. There was a brisk moment where all I wanted was him. I couldn't think about anything else. My friends refused to let me indulge in it. The fa├žade collapsed into my palms. I grew wide awake of what was actually going on. I grew sad. Of what I was feeling deep inside. The feeling of loneliness, utter misery, and hopelessness. I thought in that moment "What if my nieces were to feel this?" "What if my sisters were to feel this?" What if, What if some other young girl felt this?" What about the younger me? The I know in my heart and soul I want to become someone better. I want to be a women who is stronger than adversity. I know I have it to become the women god has in mind. I refuse to give in to these monsters. I'm going to build an empire and be the royal gem which runs through my blood.


Seeking through the mist so dark
Mystical air clouding every thought
I reach out for something to hold
Nothing but loneliness and cold
Shivers crawled up my spin
Entwining with the main nervous system
Fear engulfed my sight
Causing spasms
Bradycardia heart beat
loss of function in my limbs
A screech  to silent
It couldn't mask the violence
Her clothes ripped at the seams
She struggled to gain stability on her feet
He held her down like a marionette thrown on a shelf
Left mangled and defeated


Furiously fighting through the straps
injections intoxications and delusions
Urges to break free
Stuck to the flash backs
Groups after groups we speak
Constantly reminded of the blood we shed
those helpless nights we bled
weeping and screaming against the wall
Temper tantrums and brawls
It was a beautiful masquerade night
Until we started falling out to this great fight
My friends dying to their mental illness
This sickness ripping through my brain
causing scars with shame
Gasping for air
with nothing but a blank stare

Shattered on the floor broken
it was as if that's what it took for her to be awoken
She glanced at the shards of glass cutting all the excess rope
They gave her to make a noose
Left her in mockery
Abandoned and bruised
Lifting the walls off
standing up wobbly
barley able to catch herself
She held on to the strength she had left
molded the chains around her ankles into a crown
Bearing the weight of her trials and tribulations
Faced her enemies in the eyes
Glaring with fire so deep and wise
It was a show down of a vendetta
A women who is reborn from the dark chilly night
Someone who has survived
Who shall never again be compromised;






Before my trip I was able to tell those which I care about goodbye. I fixed my appointments making sure they knew I was going TAD. I packed everything I would be needing this time. Forgetting nothing. The hardest thing for me was leaving as soon as I met the greatest people. It was as if I needed to go and get better before I could truly have people in my life. To be able to communicate with someone on any type of level is one of the most important human experiences. If we fail to be able to keep people in our life, are we truly living? Or are we just going through the motion? I am learning to communicate with people regardless if I care for them or not. I want to be able to establish healthy relationships. I wasn't able to do this for 23 years of life. I had to learn sometime. My last couple of days I spent them with individuals I cared for. It was nice. Bonding over laughs and food. Even if I couldn't really eat anything. The presence and laughs made it all worth while. I was ready to leave. There was all this bad information of whether or not I was going to treatment. Talking to all these different docs or my command. Waiting for them to figure it out was annoying. I was just ready to leave. The night before I was anxiety filled. I was extremely nervous. I didn't know how to explain it. I just knew that I was terrified. I tried ignoring it but the attempt to get close with someone ruined it. I couldn't fight back the tears. Thankfully I was with a man who knew how to make me feel safe. He knew how to use the right words to comfort me. It was as if the monster inside me wasn't able to ruin everything. I left to the airport that morning. Joy and anxiety swarmed through my tummy. Like butterflies just sprouting out of their cocoons. I was ready to spread my wings. The flights were long and busy. It was rush hour in the air ports. I couldn't stand people honestly. They were every where. Once I landed in LA it started pouring rain. The sky was pouring hard. I was thankful I had already landed. I was in front of the hospital getting my luggage out of the taxi. I sat in the waiting area to check in. When I was finally admitted I was able to relax. I was in a facility where I was just with all women. The time that I was there was hard. I would have constant break downs. I was always upset or in my feelings. How could I not be? I was coming face to face with my illness. I was looking him straight in the eyes. He had taken much of my life. He took me for everything I had. This was the first time I stood on both feet. It was excruciatingly painful. I have never in my existence felt the pain course through me with such might. They were switching meds on me as well. I didn't know how to handle the fear. The only thing that I was sure about was the environment I was in was safe. I was able to tend to what I needed. Having a nursing staff on call was very helpful. I was very ill most of the time there. I had a great team who would keep fighting for me. I met a lot of people who had experiences just like me. They felt the pain I felt. They seen the same torment. I also found out that their experiences in the military were the same. Nobody understand the loneliness, brokenness, illness and dishonor like we do. No one can feel that but us. Hearing their stories helped me be able to open up with what I was suffering from.
                        

Yet I soon found out. Trying to heal would mean to come face to face with your worst fears. I suffered each and everyday trying to eat again. I tried different foods, snacks and liquids. After a while I started binging. I used food to cope with what I was going through in life. I either ate to finish the day and please my doctors. Or I would eat nothing because the fear of what happened to me would take over. It took my whole body and I just shut down. I shut everyone out without remorse. I felt nothing. I did not feel hunger, tired, cold, sore. I felt nothing inside but fear. That fear was strong enough to the point I would grow upset. I used anger, hatred and violence to overcome the fear I had. I lashed out on my doctors or therapist. They grew frustrated at times when I shut down. I couldn't get nothing out for them to be able to help. Yet they didn't give up on me. My sessions were complicated. I would communicate well but on some days I refused to let them see what I hid inside. A heart is full of secrets. Some are meant to be hidden forever. Others become to real once you start reminiscing about them. I would sleep a lot in the hospital. If I wasn't sleeping I was casually resting. At this point I only felt lucky of getting this long of a break. I needed it more than I knew. It felt like a paid vacation. I was happy being there but then it felt forced. I grew mad not hearing from my command. It was like they shoved me into a facility where I was left to rote. I felt like someone should have been there. Someone should have protected me when they had the chance. How was I to know what to do in those situations? I didn't know how to ask for help. I was groomed by the ones who I once called friends. I trusted the wrong crowd. My biggest mistake in life was giving much of my life to those who didn't deserve it. I let myself go to a place so low in life I resorted to people who weren't worth shit in life. They are the saddest bunch of people who feed off of misery. I put them first, which was the problem. I opened the door for them to believe that I came second.

I moved to the trauma unit next door a couple of weeks later. I was terrified yes, but I was jumping two feet into the healing process. I met with my treatment team. I lost my mind a couple of nights. I sat there awake in bed. I was frightened someone was going to just sneak in my room and hurt me. I felt like I was going to be attacked at any moment. The paranoia was strong.  I was consumed with the grief in my heart.  I would feel such pain. I would toss and turn each and every night. I became vulnerable to the point I needed to be taken care of physically. I had to be forced to eat or drink any type of liquids. I had help getting from one part of the hospital to the other. I sat in a chair all day being kept warm with a blanket. My risk level was high and my strength was at an all time low. I was at a point where I was done fighting the world. I was tired of letting the dark clouds win in my mind. I woke up one day and wanted to fight back for once. I had a really good friend there. I called her Mac. Or we all called her Mac. She was probably a twin from another life. We got a long well. She was an older sister to me. We spent a huge amount of our time learning from each other. I relied on her for strength. She was there when I would freak out. I was there to comfort her when she was suffering. I liked having a battle buddy. Being there alone was hard. We wouldn't catch lizards, play basketball, drink coke, and watch movies together. I believed we were the misfits who didn't mind life or death. We accepted it for what it was. I was able to go through the steps I needed to regain my mental stability. You have to lose everything that could mean anything to you. For you to know what freedom truly is. I rested quite a bit over there. I regained strength which was hidden deep down in my nerves. My soul became alive again. I danced with the devil once. He spoke to me in ways I believed he was in love. Although love to him was violence and corruption. I had to reach in places I refused to go to regain some form of life again. Once I pushed past that breaking point I was ready to heal. I became okay with that idea of getting stronger. I didn't wish for things to be easy. No, who could with that never working out? We all have trials in our lives which cause such tribulation. There is not one man or women who could stand before us and say they have not me defeat. That they never struggled with such difficulty. Its a matter of learning how to overcome them. You have to be willing to take the hits like famous fictional boxer Rocky Balboa says. I knew I was always a fighter. I was never the one to remain down. I was born with a fighters heart. A tomboy born into a family of wealth and success. I took what I could from my treatment team and prepared to return back to NC.
Days past and my medical sheet just soared up the charts. I lashed out more and more. When I lashed out, yes its because my mental illness but its more than that. Deep down it is really fear. Its fear of a lot of things. I get scared. Fear consumes me. I'm scared you're going to leave. My worst fear is to be alone. Regardless of how independent I am. I'm scared of my own thoughts. I know if I get really ill. I cant be alone. I start to blend my thoughts like a blender and somehow. Like a ghost or a transparent shadow. I leave my body. I become someone I am unable to control. I'm scared of the things which I have already said. I speak the truth and blurt out my emotions regardless of the consequences. I'm scared of the future or lack thereof. I get scared of you. I'm scared people will hate me. I'm scared that no one understands. Not just hear me but understand. Truly see where I am coming from. I'm scared that I will sound crazy. Which is difficult because I'm probably one of the most open crazy peeps out there. I'm scared I will be hurt again and that I wont be able to handle it. Sometimes I am just scared and in my mental illness mind this somehow translates into lashing out. Trust me, I don't like it much either. I become into someone who forces me to be shoved down. While they control everything that I do. Yet I am not sorry for who I am. Why should I be sorry? No one apologizes for the monster I've become. No one is there to take the blame for what has been going on deep down in my heart. Yes I said it. I do in fact have a heart. A soul full of love and emotions. I wear my heart on my shoulder. I am very passionate about who I am. Regardless of what I am feeling it swarms my soul. It consumes my very core. I refuse to sit back and let my voice not be heard. I was losing the battle for a safe and happy life. I turned away from everything which I knew in my heart. I felt like the worlds weight was on my shoulders. I collapsed. I gave in. I let the wicked thoughts take over my heart. They took over my mind. There was filth which drenched anything I have ever achieved in life. There was only one choice left. I either pack up or fight. In that moment of loneliness I couldn't think properly. It was as if I knew what to do but the demons inside were winning. I had enough strength to ask for help. I called the people that could help in these situations. My closest duo came to my aide. I never was quick to call someone for help but at this moment. I was lost. I had fallen to my knees and begged heavenly father for guidance. He answered with these individuals in mind. My friends came to me that night of complete confusion. I had cried out to them in agony. The loss was great. All of that pain I had inside was overflowing to the surface. Once I had a clear mind the next day. I realized I needed more help than I realized. I went to my doctors to search for guidance. They felt like I could get better but I needed to go impatient again. I needed help in all the ways I could get. This was not a decision which was light. Nor was it a decision I wanted to make for that matter. Although it was one which needed to be made immediately. I was on my way to New Orleans, LA for the next couple of weeks.

Coming back to Lejeune wasn't easy. I just wanted to run away. However the friends I have here. They are the ones who make it all worth while. I have found some amazing people who don't fill my life with pain. They work with me and understand I need space. I was ready to come home. I missed the sanctuary of my home. Living with my roommate. Watching the sunset from my room. I just missed it all. I don't know how I'm going to be able to handle being away in Louisiana. I haven't been the best since I came back. I have been wild, heartless, and free. I went to clubs, got drunk in the streets, and danced for hours. I became very ill and lethargic. I wasn't eating or gaining the nutrients I needed. I became scared and kind of backed down but not for long.

My friends and I would do everything we could before I left. We spent days on the beach. Went to movies as much as we could. We sang karaoke. Every moment was precious. I took the time to be with my friends as soon as possible. This was the time my bucket list really got started. I usually tried to do something whenever the situation accrued. I just never took the time to do it until now. We were on the beach and I was like. I want to be a mermaid. I basically like wearing bras all the time and silky pajamas. I love being in the water. Baths are my ritual whenever I get the chance. Long flowing hair with flowers and gems are my forte. I told my friends if they could build me into a mermaid basking in the sunset. It was beautiful. They actually listened and didn't mess it up for once. They honored the bucket list.

 I would go out with my hot tamale wife. She is my heart and soul. She has always been there for me since day one. I'd kill for her. Seriously, and I have almost choked someone out because of it. She is the most purest heart ever. She is my twin from another mum. We are like fire and ice. I'm the cold hearted bitch and she is the warm soothing angel. Hey, I can take it. I dish it out all the time. I fight all the battles that come into my life. I don't know what I'd do without her. We spent hours talking about everything. She would tell me not to keep fighting but to heal. I needed to mend from my wounds. I don't see her as much but she is there whenever I call. She rushed me to the hospital one day I was feeling really ill. I was vomiting everywhere and she didn't even hesitate. This is the young women I wanted to come home to.

After a while I became more ill. It was like I was rushed to the hospital every other day. I missed when I felt normal. I would get iv's and vaccinations, connected to tubes, medicine after medicine, Zofran after Zofran. It was like the never ending story. I became ill to the point I couldn't wake up. I passed out more then once. My doctors were very concerned. They knew I had chronic dizziness which was destroying my pt and work environment. I still wasn't eating. I couldn't possibly want to eat anything. With all the grotesque feeling I had even wanting to eat. I'd just get sick and throw it up. Wasting food and killing my throat wasn't it.

I was leaving in a couple of days. I wanted to go to the beach, play in the sand, let the water splash around my toes.  I only had so many days left here. My medical team was debating or not whether they wanted me to leave? One logic thought was. If we send her, would she get any better? Would she get well then come back to the same hell whole which caused her illness? Where just shipping her off to only bring her back. My doctors were very serious about my health. They debated it all with my chain of command. I got tired of hearing the arguments. I sat in the background to only accept the outcome of what they felt was best. Soon after I got the knowledge that I wasn't going. I was going to stay here in NC. I didn't mind it. Now that I knew I was going to be here. All I wanted to do was set my appointments and focus on getting out of the marine corps. I had to finish all my medical forms. They were stacked like mt. Rushmore. I had to organize them and finalize my statements on my medical board.




                                         After I got out of impatient. I had a couple of days to fully adjust. I didn't really want to be back. There was a gut wrenching feeling deep within my stomach. I had help from a good friend. He kept reassuring me that everything would be okay. I had to unpack everything. My room was a mess. Clothes, shoes, make up, and just everything you could think of.  I got out early afternoon and I didn't come back till sunset. I would have to say shopping was a major factor. I wanted to rebuy clothes that were completely different from what I once wore. I didn't want to be the same women I once was. I didn't want anything resembling that female. It was one of those moments where it was out with the old in with the new. Hence why my room was an explosion. In the middle of organizing only one person came to visit me to see if I was okay. I was shocked of who it was but regardless I was happy. I was excited to see someone familiar. Someone who knew me in depth. There were unwanted guests too. One of my friends or someone who I assumed was a good friend. He also came but he had packs of alcohol in his arms. I was thinking maybe he was testing me? Maybe it was a joke? I wasn't sure exactly what it was but it wasn't funny to me. Alcohol was the reason my memory was haunting me. It was the remedy for the thing inside me that I was trying to kill. I assumed it was someone great. It wasn't. He was a parasite in my life. He was there when I was begging for help and nothing.
                                         At this point in my life,  I didn't think much. I really couldn't make out big decisions or assume much. I was fragile at this state. I went on with the motion. I was admitted into IOP the following working day. I was nervous at this point. I went to SARP once but to be there all day was another story. I was set up for five weeks. It was from 0730 to 1600. The long hours were perfect. I wanted to overcome this illness and I didn't want to be at work. No one understood me when I came back. They assumed I was the same person. I portrayed the same women. I was still ticking for a drink. I wanted to become blacked out. I didn't want to feel anything. I felt everything deeply. This was my ultimate curse. I was still unable to consume food. I had sickness every day. I would force food down my throat because I would be hungry but I would get ill. Regardless if I wanted to eat or not. My body would reject everything. I lost extreme weight. I was losing pounds by the hour. I did like feeling my hips and feeling bone. I craved that anorexic body. I wanted to be thin to the point I wasn't attractive. Being beautiful wasn't on the menu. I got breathalyzed every day. It didn't scare me that this happened. It kind of thrilled me. I wanted to beat the system in a way. I wanted to drink without getting caught. I also knew I was able to drink around this. It wasn't a smart idea but I did. I still went out and consumed as much as I could. My friends would cheer and be glad that I was "back". Which in their minds meant I was okay. I was healed. What they don't realize is how empty I must have been to drown that whole bottle within seconds. They didn't see what I was feeling inside. Who could blame them? I didn't tell them. I wouldn't explain what was going on in my mind. In a way I didn't know how. I got worse. I wasn't fitting in at work like I once was. I was waking up extremely late due to alcohol or sickness. I was admitted to the hospital multiple times due to dehydration or vomiting. My days were all passing by. I would always be in a hospital bed. Looking for some saving grace. I learned a lot in SARP. I took in everything that I could. I was with people who felt the same way I did. I was with the same black sheep other people wouldn't have anything in common with. I just wasn't healing. It got to the point my doctor had to intervene. She wanted to send me to impatient again. I wasn't changing for the better. I was only getting worse. The nightmares would haunt me. The evil bastards would mock me. No matter where they went. It was as if they were blaming me for their wrong doings. I hid like a bug in the cracks. Hoping and beginning to not be noticed. With the medical appointments towering, command asking questions, and trying to live a normal life. I was losing it. I felt my life slip through my finger tips. I would explode like a volcano after waiting patiently. My medical team finally came together to file the paperwork needed. They agreed I was on the verge of death. I needed to go to my treatment facility as soon as possible. It was in new Orleans, Louisiana.  A couple of hours away. They only wanted to wait for my IOP to be finished with. I had good friends who were with me. It was just not a good time to spend with them. They were suffering too. They had this illness in them that was trying to win.
                                        Some of my friends let it win. Others fought hard. However some of them passed away. They couldn't win. It tore me apart. I felt like they had a lot to live for and they fought hard to be where they are at now. I wasn't any better than them. I was waiting in my darkest thoughts. Picturing me as the one who would fall victim to our illness next. I was around those who were negative to the point I couldn't even comprehend the sadness. Their self pity angered me. Their will to give up and die would make this anger grow deep within me. It was the only thing that gave me fire to continue this life. Somehow them feeding my depression only made me want to live more. Their remarks only made me want to lose them as friends. I didn't want to be surrounded with those who gave up when others were fighting for their life. I remember my friends who I admired. I looked up to them because they knew who they were. They knew they wanted to live. No matter how much pain I was in. I wanted to keep living for them. My mind was clouded with chaos but this was the only positive keeping me going. They took care of me. They gave me a helping hand even if their demons were trying to take them down. I learned a lot from all these people who filled my life with knowledge daily. After a  while I finally stopped talking to most of the people I met. I didn't want anything to do with them during my recovery. I was done having them bring anything but positive into my life. I had good friends who were supportive try to help me. They were there for me through this whole mess. I had really good friends in my chain of command who were on my side but regardless my illness was stronger than anyone's positivity at this time. All I wanted to do was sulk in my depression. I wanted to be doused in the pain I felt everyday. The nightmares I would see over and over even in the morning when my eyes were open. They were strong. After becoming sober all these walls I spent building up just shattered. They crumbled like a burning house. Flames and smoke tore apart the foundation I built up. I tried to live life. I tried to do new things. I built a fortress around my room but nothing helped. I was still a target for those who were my enemies. I fell apart even more. I made arrangements with my command, doctors, friends, and family that this would be the last time you would see me fight. I was done fighting. I fought for so long. I was ready to lay down my sword. I was ready to give in. It did break my heart of course. I didn't want to just give up the only thing I fought so hard to become. I wanted to be a marine ever since I was young. It tore me to think I couldn't fight for it any longer. Yet it also tore me to think what if I did fight for it? What if I lost after? Would it be worth breaking my mind and body all over again? These questions filled my mind like poison. I was done trying to figure it out. All I had going for me was my med board and going to Louisiana.
                        I finished all my VA appointments. They weren't as bad as I thought. I was able to wear my civis and it was nice having my hair down. It gets tired of being in buns all day. Having this experience is interesting but nevertheless I am going to take the most out of it. Besides who doesn't like missing work for some beneficial information? I know I don't. Being home wasn't as good as I thought it would be. I started becoming more and more ill. I wasn't able to eat, I couldn't sleep, and I was losing my mind all the time. I didn't know what was happening to me but it all just was crashing down. I needed help. I needed it more then anything. I finally told my doctors at SARP what was wrong with me.

                          The treatment center which I went to was located in Wilmington, NC. It was only about an hour away or so. Going there wasn't the scary part. They scary part was arriving there and not knowing who I was going to be surrounded by. I am used to my command always being by my side. I am used to waking up seeing other marines. Not civilians or people I don't know. I haven't left NC for about 2 years now. I don't mind being here anymore. I built my home here. This is where my job, friends, and where I have established myself. I have built my home here. Regardless if I live in the barracks or not. This is my little apartment which is surrounded by the person I am. I have my pictures of the ones I love. I have my bed sheets from PINK that are mint green and colorful. I have my USA flag hanging up. I have my t.v and xbox here which takes up most of my time anyhow. Leaving base for more then a couple days did send chills up my spine.
                            

                             Once I got to the treatment center. I saw people outside smoking. I was like oh great here we go. It took a couple hours to process me in. It literally took forever. It was 8pm and I just wanted to go to sleep after this point. After I checked in. I said goodbye to my NCO and I went into the back for more processing. This is where they strip searched me. I had to get my picture taken. All my bags got checked in and my clothes were all taken to the room I'd be staying in. I had to get medically evaluated in a freezing cold room by a little nurse name Ginger. She was cute but I was just ready to hit the hay. When I looked around I saw people who were lost. It seemed like no one was upstairs. They were wondering the halls confused and sobbing. One girl was screaming very loud. Ranting on about people who were around her. The tech told me not to go near her because she was crazy. I told him. We're all mad here. He agreed with me once he saw how serious I was. I believe that the ones who are chemical dependent, mentally ill and lost are the ones who know the most. These people who I belong to are the most interesting ones out there. They have such knowledge and experience within them. Its sad when we get lost in our sickness we cant use it for the good. Yet this extra gift to understand and feel the world is a blessing and curse. The struggles we went through only caused us to become damaged. Damaged in a way that light pierces the night sky. In someway it mixes with who they are and transforms us into one of the few. Damaged people are dangerous, they know how to survive. They've been through to much. To the point of madness. The pain seeped through every corner of their tar black heart. We stopped fearing what hurt us the most. The anger and rage took over. I met my roommate and she was cute. She had purple hair, bright clothes, and a sassy personality. We got a long very well. She showed me around. Ashley let me smoke her cigs. I went everywhere with her. We attended groups together. She took care of me in a way I wasn't used to. She was suffering from heroine addiction. The worst of all devils. This didn't stop her from being able to take care of me. It meant a lot because I was not aware of anything going on. The detox days were probably the most painful I have ever felt. I would wake up in the middle of the night screaming. Night sweat and chills were getting me any chance they got. After becoming sober. The memories of the person who hurt me came flooding in. Pieces of broken images. They spread all through my thoughts. Like poison, killing me softly. I clutched my heart and fell to the floor. I never felt that much agony in my whole 22 years of existing. Sometimes hell is the person who promised you something heavenly. Sometimes the devil is good at pretending to be everything you wanted. The memories of my little peanut and the torturous monster cut through me. I lost all self of control in keeping it together. I lost it. I lost my marbles. They all fell out of the bag. In that moment, I could remember everything that was going on. I tried to avoid them as much as possible. I tried to act like they didn't exist. I tried to pretend nothing happened but shoving these memories down only made them dwell longer. Time went on. I wouldn't talk about anything but my alcohol consumption. I finally just spit everything out like word vomit. I couldn't hold it in. I screamed in pain from all that had happened. I wept and I wept till I couldn't weep any longer. I put everything on the table. My past, present and the future which changes every second. The classes helped me a lot. Going to an AA meeting every night opened my eyes to my sickness. I never ever assumed others felt pain as I did. I knew as humans we have faults which take a lot for us to handle. However I never thought they felt like I did. Exactly like I did. Their mind was mixed with the poison and person they were. They weren't your typical normal people.


                               Being anywhere else made me feel like I was insane or that I was fucked up. Being here in rehab made me feel normal. I felt like I could truly be myself. They wouldn't judge me. They understood the spirit in my heart and the monsters in my head. I thought these people were my friends. I thought they loved me. They would tell me all the time how much I meant to them. I would tell them I wouldn't trust any other person. In the pit of my stomach it was a risk but it was a risk I wanted to take. I assumed I had a bestfriend here. I imagined a perfect relationship with an idiot who said no one would love me as much as he would. I pictured these pieces different then they actually were. I pictured butterflies and rainbows. While in reality there were storms brewing. Chaos was unraveling before my eyes. I was oblivious the what was laid out before me. Broken promises, forced love which in reality was lust, and abuse. I finally allowed myself to feel and try to let people in. Only to be blindsided with the truth. Some people are great manipulators. They can lie, cheat, and treat you badly and somehow manage to make it all seem like your fault. Once you see these people for who they are, stay away from them. They will never change and you will only get hurt. The night they held me down and kept me there at the house where I was taken advantage of. That was the night they took a huge part of me. That was the night the feather broke the camels back. I was able to clear my mind safely. I didn't want to drink like I used to. I realized how bad it was. I never thought it was a problem until my counselor laid out my life before me. I just think I didn't want to face myself. I was scared of the person I would be without that safety net. Alcohol made everything better. Or so I assumed. It helped me sleep at night. Actually stay asleep without waking up from the nightmares. I didn't feel pain but I became dependent on it. I became trapped to my own compulsive behavior. The need for that control took its form in something that I knew I could get a hold of. I am 22 years old and I'm a marine. That is a perfect combination for I could drink whenever and with whoever. I would go to parties. I would rage with them all night. Playing the college games. Dancing like there was no tomorrow. I would drink a lot. Beers went first, then in between them were the shots, and then I'd grab a bottle to myself. They cheered me on as I drank the whole thing. Little did they realize how empty I was to be able to do that. No one saw what I felt. I didn't want to let that out. Not drinking definitely did just that. I met a lot of people I bonded with. Some were as old as me. Others had their sickness longer than I was born. Meeting other people from all over helped me understand my addiction a little more. I felt like I could understand how my life got to that point. How it could continue to take over if I let it. We have this darkness in us that only grows stronger when we chose to indulge in it. Sometimes it would make me feel powerful around others. I could take on the world with courage and poise. I started taking meds in treatment which helped a lot. They kept me calm and helped me sleep. The anxiety wasn't as strong. I made bracelets, colored, painted, and I learned how to play the guitar. It was very frustrating at first but I got good at it. I learned the basic of it. Each note I would stroke with a little bit of excitement. Just the idea of me learning something new encouraged me to try new things. I let people there pick at my brain. I opened up to the idea that I could and finally be heard. It was fun being away. We went on trips to theatres, defy gravity, museums, and took a trip to the beach. It was really nice. I was captivated by the pier. I stood at the very top letting the strong wind embrace every curve of my body. I learned a lot about myself. I also learned that I didn't know what my favorite food was? I didn't know where I wanted to visit? These were the things we should know about ourselves.





                After I was released into the real world. I wasn't that nervous. I really wanted to come home. I spent almost two months in there. I needed some real world. As I got closer to base. I was filled with fear. I didn't know what it was. I was only here for about a week after what happened. Then sent to the rehabilitation center. It all was fast pace I could not keep up. I went to the mall and bought everything I could. I got new shoes. I colored my hair. I just got everything I thought I wouldn't wear but was really cute. I tried changing everything. I didn't want to have any reminder of what happened to me. I didn't want to have the clothes or shoes I had worn around these disgusting human beings. I trashed everything I could. I went a little overboard my friend had said. I didn't think I did enough. I wanted to be someone different. Once I walked out those hospital doors. I was no longer that tiny girl I used to be. I was a raging carnivore. I did not want to see anyone. I wanted to be left alone. Somehow I wanted closure that I never got. I wanted someone to tell me why this happened? Then thought, closure is a joke. The only apology you need is the one you owe yourself for staying as long as you did. The only conversation you need to have and the only person you need to see again, is the person in the mirror. Look at yourself and say "you know what?, I fucked up. My worth is more than that." That is your closure.
Along my trials I've seen bitter darkness. I wasn't in the best shape. I had to many daily actions which haunted me. Physically, mentally and morally trying to figure out which road could lead me to eternal happiness. We live each and every day hoping, praying that in some shape or form we could be redeemed from our past. As humans we could eventually become happier. Throughout my life you could see that I've been dealing with my own mind for a long time. I experienced great moments which made me happier. I also experienced such loss and grief. It consumed my entire mind. Seeped through my nerve system. It caused my body to shut down. I struggled with the bottle. Constantly looking for an out light. The closest thing to sanctuary was my meds and alcohol. I loved to douse my soul in it. It help numb the pain in my body, the memoires sketched in my brain, and hide the nightmares I tried to escape from. I would literally take them everyday. I couldn't have a normal day where I didn't take my meds in the morning and drink at night. I lived each day in a routine which allowed my body to function properly. I was in a horrible relationship. Honestly, I wouldn't even call it a relationship. I would call it a distraction from my insanity. I let myself believe that love was abuse. I let my heart need another human being who gave me scraps. I believed that love was being intimate with someone who held you down and made you cry. I suffered from a hip injury for a long time. I started getting hip pains around the end of boot camp. I had a lot of muscle and cramping going on in both my lower legs. I have low sodium. Its not bad enough to the point of an actual diagnosis but its enough to make sure I have to monitor it. I lived in Arizona and Texas which were extremely hot states however it was dry heat. I never sweat to the point of fully being drenched. Unless I did some massive pt. I would do cross fit or dance all the time. I enjoyed lifting weights. Those were my main loves in life. I never had a problem until I moved to South Carolina for boot camp. The extreme heat and humidity was all new to me. I didn't eat enough salt and drank enough water which caused my hydration level to go a wire. I had to eat salt which would allow all that water to circulate through my body. That was the main reason why my cramps would get worse and worse. I went on light duty for a weekend. Rested a lot. Stretched every chance I got and put salt in my Gatorade. It sounds gross but it helps the salt taste. After that it seemed to become better. I got stronger in all the right ways. Until one day when I was in the fleet. During one of our exercises on the beach I got injured. I felt a pop in my hip. I thought I started my normal women functions but that was not the case. I found out after a couple months that I partially dislocated my hip which caused it to tear some muscle. After that I did rehabilitation, light pt, and injections which helped lower the pain. I felt such excruciating pain. I could not sleep. I could not sit, stand or walk properly. It was exhausting. I knew that was the beginning of my explosive behavior. I had a horrible roommate. Flat out bitch. She wasn't considerate of anyone. Which made it hard for me to relax. I had family drama which would take over my thoughts daily. I didn't get a long well with them at all but they were all I had. How could you stay away from the ones you love. There is no easy way out of that one. I was in a messed up relationship with my ex. He picked and chose when he wanted to talk to me. He would always lead me on as if we were going to be able to repair what was damaged. Yet it was those silly little games which made it impossible for me to trust men. I adored him of course. I did. His family was amazing. I could not give a better example. I love them as if they were my own. Regardless of what anyone says. I will never deny them as my own but it hurt. Talking to them and hearing about him broke my heart. It was like ripping the scab off an old wound. Letting the blood clot. Feeling the same emotions all over again. Never healing. Never fully recovering. I was stuck. Friends chose not to be friends. I couldn't rely on anyone here. When they said I could. I was disappointed. I miss those days when we were children. When skinned knees were easier to mend than broken hearts. I miss those days were we would tag someone and they'd be it. When we played duck, duck goose. Whoever we chose ran after us. Enjoying the chase. Now it seems like broken promises and gossiping trolls run the world. Its easier to cheat and lie than to tell the truth and have an actual relationship. Whether it be friend, foe, or loved one. Its easier to protect our heart by acting like we don't have one. Everything I loved seemed to have such a high cost. Whenever I had something good and solid it'll always be interrupted by lose or it'd leave me. After all this seemed to blow up in my face I met a guy. He seemed like he was perfect. He had the perfect background. Perfect smile and he had the charming personality which caught me. Little did I know the devil disguises itself in everything you want him to be. We had a great relationship at first. We bonded over everything. I was still holding back because I have been let down before. However, this time I fell. I let myself love completely. It seemed wonderful. I fell deeper and deeper. Soon it wasn't as sweet as it used to be. He was abusive. Mentally, emotionally and physically. Once he held me down and just hurt me. I didn't know what to do? I thought it was love, but it was lust. I let his innocent sweet words devour my thoughts. I let his excuses replace the horror he would put on me. There were times it was great. We kissed, laughed and made memories. Yet the madness was stirring. I couldn't see it but everyone did. Everyone saw how he would abuse my happiness. How he would put me down and belittle me. I thought it was love. Love let me down. I begged him to change. It only got worse. I was having really bad menstrual cycles due to my change in birth control. I decided to take a different kind. However I was taking opiates as well. I was on pain medication from when I injured my hip. Little did I know that taking these would mess up your cycle. Birth control would not work as good. I started to get really sick. Light headed. I didn't want to eat as much. I was really dizzy. I kept telling my body I was simply sick. I wasn't pregnant. There was no way. Until one night I had significant bleeding. I sat in the shower thinking oh  my gosh not having a period for 3 mos is the result. I got sicker and sicker. The blood was really bad. I went to the doc the next day. I had a fever and my hormones were insane. The doctor ran some tests. He came back sad and didn't know how to say it but explained to me the process of miscarriage. He said it was natural in women who's bodies were stressed out. He said it was just mother nature. He went on and on about the next steps. I was horrified. I looked at him with mortified eyes. I was in aw. I collapsed knowing that this happened to me. The following medical appointments were not fun. I was alone, confused, and lost for words. I was drinking a lot on the weekends. I took a lot of meds for pain. I was dealing with work and life. I wasn't strong enough. I failed my fetus. My unborn child. I was 13 weeks pregnant. I lost it. Later on I tried to make sure everything went back to normal. I told him it was a false alarm. The test came back negative. I ignored it for the longest time. My heart was in agony. Everything would remind me of the loss. I tried to move on. I tried to confine in him. He was no where to be found. There was not enough shade he could throw at me. Soon after I saw the same angry person. Jealous, pushy and angry. We drifted farther and farther apart. Until one day we all ended up together on a weekend. Flash backs filled my head. I grew mad. We fought. I was intoxicated to the point I wanted to black out. He snapped and was evil. He was rude to the point I was in tears. I begged him to not be rude but he was. That night was the beginning of all my emotions coming out. I remember I went for a walk and ended up in front of a church house. I fell to my knees and begged god for forgiveness. I could only see the cross and my heart was filled with agony. I was messed up. I was drunk. I had all these emotions filling me. That was the last straw to my broken heart. I couldn't handle anything anymore. I was done with everything. I was done losing everything I loved. I couldn't bare it. My boyfriend and I talked about marriage, future plans, the names of our kids, and the delusional fantasy of happiness. I knew that having sex before marriage was wrong. I told him that. He acted like he understood. I felt like my miscarriage was punishment for either having pre marital sex or drinking alcohol every day. Drowning my sorrow and pain away. Either way I took it as a punishment not a blessing. They tried to calm me and give me medicine. After that I just flipped out. I couldn't hold anything back. My friends and ex didn't know what to do. I was hysterical. I felt the pain from the doctors removing the tissue out of me. I felt the cramps and pictured the blood pour from me. I was in a lot of grief. Why didn't anyone help? Why couldn't my mama answer her phone. I didn't understand why my mother couldn't answer the phone. I didn't understand why I couldn't be in peace. I was in torment. I drowned my sorrow in alcohol. I needed to feel numb. The following work day it was all in my commands notifications. They found out some troubling news about me. I was in deep pain and they knew it. I tried to deny it. I tried to deny my nightmares. I could remember some things but I was forcing everything out of my mind. I didn't want to remember anything. I drowned it in alcohol. My command was worried about me. They feared for my safety. They debated what was the proper care for me. There final conclusion was to send me to SACO soon they sent me to SARP which lead me to impatient treatment. I was scared to go, but I know I need it. I prayed for sanctuary.





I feel empty
yet so full
of emotion

Like the smallest thing
could push me
over the edge

What do you do
when there's nothing
but pain
left inside you?

And what if everything
we were looking for
only existed
in our
dreams?

How do you explain
something
you don't even understand
yourself?



Her strength was captivating
Leaving everyone in the dust
All of her awards proved her dedication
The applause was grand
Praises made her blush
The center of attention
Truly a captivation
The way she walked into a room shine
Making everyone wonder who she was
The women which made everyone stop at her diamond eyes
Leaving them in a hypnotic trance
She wore a crown of invisibility
Always poised and proper
Yet she would grapple with the guys
Drop blouse and fight with such pride
Training like she had no fear
Embracing the warrior within
No one could deny it
At the end of the battle her grin
Beautiful poison
Until one day
Practice made perfect
or so it seemed
 During some exercise on the beach
Her body broke
Became fragile and weak
She felt pain in her side
Wondering if it was something she could forget
Months went on
In and out of medical was what she did regret
Pain seemed to be her shadow
Black and blue covered her thighs
Putting her in a wheel chair
Crutches to move around
Meds to calm her thoughts
Soon the women who conquered the world
Hit the ground
Ending up in hospital
Daily rehab and shots
Bending her legs
Jabbing needles in her lumbar vertebrae
They dug through her like a science experiment
Causing her to shout in pain
Cry out in agony
It wasn't fair
For her not be able to choose these female hips
What if she chose never to bear children?
Could she be strong then?
Live her dreams?
Instead
Each and every week
Suffering to what these Docs decided to do after
No one looked at her like they did before
They mocked her with such shame
Thinking she was playing a silly game
Blaming the weakness on her self
Pointing the finger at her injury
There was nothing for her to do
But taking the hits
Life had changed for the worst
She grew weaker and weaker with each and every day
Causing her mind to grow insane
The pain was to deep for meds to take away
When others would look at her wrong
Her anger grew strong
She didn't want people to doubt her
Her worry grew each and every day
Not realizing what else she could bring
Glaring at her broken body praying she could be cured
Nights grew into hours
Sleepless
Restless
Tossing and turning with nightmares
Watching everyone's pity glares
She'd drink straight out of the liquor bottles
Not caring what it'd cause
She was used to such love and admiration
When it was gone
All seemed to feel wrong
Struggling with weight
Second guessing every person in her life
Trying to figure out who was true
One night she just shattered
Leaving her dearest friends and boyfriend to pick up the pieces
Yet they didn't know what to do
But wish her the best
and stand by even if she failed
Her lungs were tired of breathing
Eyes tired of crying
Heart tired of beating in her chest
It seemed like the darkness took over every time
Making it easy to make her lose her shine
However she was strong
Each and every painful day
Clawing her way through all the chaos
Working steady with a craft mans hands
Doing everything the doctor put on her list
Her smile came back slowly
The pain eased with the meds she was on
She wasn't crying like she used to
Crutching to her restroom
Applying red lipstick
Mascara
and a silk skin tight dress
Dazzling and charming
It was alarming
Walking slowly with her bestfriends hand
Making her way to have a grand night
Kissing her painful memories aside
She wanted to be normal again
Even for one day
It'll be okay
She wasn't going to let her demons haunt her
God was the cure
Even when all seemed to be lost
The savior already paid the highest cost
He never abandoned her
She wanted to feel like she did once upon a time
Beautiful and sublime
With pain comes strength
Even if its the hardest thing to do
You have to stand up
Its not about who got knocked down
but who stayed down.


 
 
I was dancing across the kitchen floor
Licking a spoon of brownie mix
Dancing to every beat
Wondering if this was my cure?
Suddenly realizing this great pain
All the memories rushed through me like a wave
Rippling through my core
Making it hard for me to breath
I grabbed the tequila out of the fridge
Pressing it against my face
While the tears drenched my ice cold finger tips
I could barley even stand
Collapsing hard without control
My body betrayed me
How could this be?
We had everything you and I
Living the life people would be jealous to see
Having each other to withstand the worst of weather
The beauty and love could not be fake
But for you
I was a mistake
Leaving every memory on the west coast
I've never been able to forget
I only live each day with the highest regret
For you I'd give my life
I had a vision of one day becoming your wife
These lips which once kissed your lips
Now share the same taste with her
She came out of the blue and captured you
I wouldn't say she stole from me
How could you rob love?
You couldn't
Not even the heavens above
The greatest loss I've ever had
The anger
The pain
I grew mad
Always searching for something the same
Pointing the finger at someone to blame
You were the light in the sky
The warmth at night
The reason I lived without misery
Realizing how much I lost
Gave me anxiety and deep regret
I felt like I could have done something more
I should have stayed here at home
Instead of enlist in the Corps
Sign my life away to a contract tour
If there was a day I could have just one more day
With you here in my arms I'd find the strength
To convince you to stay.


They say that nothing in life is worth living for if you don't have a dream. If you don't have a goal. If you don't have something in your mindset that your looking forward to. I've spent a good amount of time pondering this question. I didn't really have goals in life. Nor did I have role models who aspired me to do better in life. The only one who was greater than I, who I worshipped was my God and Heavenly Father. The only truth I knew deep in my heart and soul. The only reason it was easier to wake up each and every day. I pondered who I am as a person? Who I am as a women? What I wanted in life? My mind was running on a ton of thoughts. I started spinning and spinning around mentally becoming ill to the point. I needed to take both hands and hold my head forward. Did I want to marry someone still? Was there any point to date someone now? What should I do about my career? Should I stay in the Marine Corps for the rest of my life? Or should I find something else that I am great at? I'm really good at medical. I wanted to become a doctor. Should that be my dream? What is a roll model exactly? Could it be male or female? Would it be wise to follow the rich and famous? Is that going against my religion and faith? What should I do? It sounded to me like life hit me smack right in the face. As a 22 year old women. I was caught between what who I am. What I was becoming and who I will become. There was always a fire deep within my soul. Burning brighter than any flame could. I have a spirit that over takes any normal or basic personality. They said I was person they have never met before. I grew up within a wealthy home. I had a stable life. I never wondered where my next meal was going to come from. However, I lived a life that was such a bore. It was meaningless. There was never anything I chose. I didn't choose how I was raised. At this moment. I know its all up to me. The hardest decision I ever had to deal with. I know for a fact that it only gets more confusing. I started to open up and trust the ones around me. Yet they let me down. It seems like that's all they do. Is let you down. Your happiness, your hope, your trust. It'll always get ruined by the ones you hold dear. Why? I still don't know. We are human. I understand that. I just don't understand how I'm willing to put my life on the line but no one else would? I just wish that people would do as much as you would for them. I learned that we cannot relay on that wish. I learned that wishing on shooting stars. Is wasteful because you'll miss the scenery around you. Waiting on 11:11 would make you waste the only time we're given on this earth. We waste such time on broken dreams, relationships that can never mend, and past errors we cannot erase.
 I've been dealing with a lot of depression lately. I am dealing with anxiety. I have a lot of pain which overcomes me most days. Other days I'm okay. I mean I'm alive and breathing. There are just those days that you hold bites and pieces of the memories that haunt your mind. When enough comes back. It triggers that fear you once had. It opens the Pandora's box within you. I grow breathless. Emotionless. Growing up led me to realize that life is no joke. It doesn't wait for no one. It moves on. Even if you're not ready to press on. It still goes on. With that alone can be a blessing or a curse. It depends on the person. I don't think its the goodbye that hurts. Its the flash backs of everything and everyone I have ever lost. The tragedy I had to overcome.  I've gained a lot of strength. I gained a women who knows chaos. Who isn't afraid to fight back. Who isn't afraid to stand up for herself. Who isn't afraid to tell the truth. I grew up reserved. Blossomed into a beautiful disaster. I hear the positive sides of who I am and the negative all the time. I hear I'm a happy smiling person yet I snap and become the most destructive human being. They ask me to apologize for the person I am. I don't know why? No one has ever apologized for making me this way. NO one will ever take the blame. They'll point fingers till their dying day. I own up to what I do that's not right in the eyes of my accusers. However I will never apologize for the anger in my heart. I didn't really understand what my doctor was saying when he diagnosed me with depression. I wasn't aware I was depressed. I knew I was sadder most days than others. I knew I gave up food sometimes because my tummy got upset. Or I felt bitter towards everything and everyone's existence. I had outbursts like a child every other 6 mos or year but in the marine corps. It seemed like I get them every week. Every other day. Sometimes it lasts about an hour. Other times it lasts for about a week. I grew angry. There was a storm brewing inside me. I couldn't control the anxiety. The nightmares. I couldn't stop the flash backs. These memories haunt me even when I am awake. Talking about it didn't really help at first. I hated it. I grew even more outraged. The days passed. Something inside me felt a little better. I feel like now that people understand most the anger within me. They aren't pushing me off the edge like before. I feel like they are kind of understanding what's wrong. I'm understanding. I know that I'm not okay. I know that I need help. Its been the hardest road of all. I mean I hate asking for help. Being dependent on someone or something is that last thing I want to do. My nightmares kept reaching out. They wanted to be seen whether I wanted them to stay hidden or not. Being in the marine corps isn't easy. Let a lone a human with a past. You find out just how dangerous your monsters are. They no longer play under your bed but seek shelter and nest within your head. I'm learning that you need to be okay with your self. You need help. It just is extremely hard because the ones who you trust either leave or do something which severs your trust. You have to understand no on is going to save you. You have to want to save yourself. I decided a long time ago I was going to be the women I needed when I was younger. I put a lot of time and patience with getting better. I also put time in others. When I am in the service of me fellow man. I am in the service of my god. That alone is enough for me.