Seven Golds

My mind has been a little uneasy, so I haven't been able to put together a post. But I found this article today and I want to share it. It is definitely a very important topic that I want to talk about, once I have the right words. I am sharing it, mainly to create awareness, and as a reminder that this is a crisis, and it should be of concern to all of us.  ________________________________________________________________________________ We Must Talk About Suicide-- By Shirley Davis ***TRIGGER WARNING*** This article will tackle active suicide and may not be suitable for sensitive audiences. Suicide is a word we whisper when someone dies by their own hand. Often we are surprised to learn that the person died by suicide because we thought they were doing well. As members of society, we have a responsibility to spread the news that people who look well are not always well. We must  discuss suicide  out in the open so we can beat it. Suicide is not inevitable, but it is unnecessary. H

I saw and remembered the pain in the world, outside of my own. There is so much pain out there, outside of my own world. So many people who need help.  I saw how much darkness I am carrying. And how the Light stopped getting in a long time ago. I realized how much my energies are blocked. How stuck and paralyzed I am. How my fears are so, so intense, that they have become the driver of my life, because I feel I have lost all control of it. I have stayed, and created my own little world, to stay safe. To protect myself. To deal with my darkness and mental health, that my world has become too self-centered. Too powerful and negative. I know what it is like to lose all hope. In everything. In life, in people. To no longer see the goodness of others. I am a very sensitive person. The pain of the world affects me. Seeing so much lack of compassion and kindness affects me.  Seeing the most vulnerable suffering as a result of the cruelty of the powerful and mighty affects me. And having gone

I don’t know if I necessarily have my own definition of success.  I also don’t know if it matters, really. I know I have tried to live by my own rules. Be my own person. Write my own story. Leave unhealthy places, against all odds. Make difficult decisions. Take my own time. Know in my heart that some things just aren’t right, no matter what. Keep pushing during my worst. Even if it doesn’t seem like it. Finding and saving myself. I don’t know if I need more than this. Going to therapy. And keep pushing when things get tough. Trying to raise my kids with a little more awareness and compassion. Do my best at understanding them. Understand that they are their own person and version. And that they are not perfect. Overcoming my own prejudice- or at least trying to. Doing a small part in leaving this broken world a little better.  Accepting what is- what I can’t change. But NOT accepting what is not meant to be accepted.  Re-learning love. What is and what isn’t.  Learning. Growing. Accept

I keep telling myself that my life is not what I thought it would be, by now... not at all how I imagined it. That my dreams and my goals have not been realized. It is a voice so strong inside my head that it feels like it is part of me already. But what dreams, exactly? Recognition? Success? And what is success, anyway? Success is supposed to have a different definition for each one of us, doesn't it? A few weeks ago I realized how terribly bad I actually feel about myself. It is, of course, a symptom of borderline (BPD), but in this case I had internalized these awful feelings and emotions of unworthiness, feeling less-than, and not-good-enough.  Not only I have been carrying these beliefs, but I already believed them as being true. And I have proof. I am stuck in this mental health hole, unable to be what I once was. Not where I thought I would be, for sure, in this point of my life. Unable to make goals or dreams. Let alone reach them. This is what mental health does - everythi