A stained soul seeking freedom, one secret at a time.

Do not judge me for who I am, where I come from, or where I’ve been. I am just me, a girl who is hungry for the life she deserves. My entire life has revolved around secrets. Secrets about ugly things that have permanently stained my heart, my mind, my body.

I have been a patient in at least 6 different mental health hospitals on multiple occassions. I have been a very sick person for a long time. My life was a mess and many times I attempted to end it. For years I had no desire to fight, no desire to live. I had become so wrapped up in drug addictions, eating disorders, depression, self injury, and several undiagnosed mental illnesses.

Then I lost my best friend to suicide. That was when I fell on my face, hitting rock bottom. But it was also the turning point that directed me back to the land of living. I am now clean, sober, and under control. For several years now. Then in 2010 my fiance and I was in a car accident. And because of that I am now a full left arm amputee. But I am coping.

I am learning to finally live. The bipolar disorder makes my days very unpredictable. Sometimes I feel quite good while others I cannot get out of bed. My entire life is a struggle but its a fight that I refuse to quit.

Not now. Not ever.

Especially since I came so close to death itself. In 2010 I was in a serious car accident. Life support, broken bones from head to toe. Paralysis. And amputation ….

It resulted in months and months of hospitalization and physiotherapy. Crippling pain 24/7. But with determination, and the support of my NOW husband and my family I learned how to walk again. The paralysis is gone. I took back my independence and I am now functioning just like any other average person.

Except for one thing. I lost my arm and part of my breast. That will never return. I gained the title of ‘amputee’ from that accident. But you know what? I don’t mind! It just makes me even more unique. I do not measure the quality of my life by my body. That could get pretty depressing.

I want the measurement of my worth to be in how wildly I laugh, how gently I hold onto things, how quietly I listen … I don’t focus on the shoes you all wear, or even if your clothes match, I am more interested in learning about your soul, how it works. I want to shout the outrageous truths of what I learn from the rooftop. My goal is to just be the insane person that I am. Everyone has a touch of madness.

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