The scars of who we are, Part 1.

 Introduction.
        Life is often like our dreams, where nothing is ever quite as what it seems.

                Believe it or not, I believe in magic, but not the kind you’re probably thinking about. I believe in the magic of a moment when two souls who are completely different finally come together and find that even with the chaos in both their lives that they are meant to be together, forever and always. In doing so, they discover themselves and each other all over again. So yes, I believe in love, I believe in God and I believe in the magic of the written word and the endless wonders that can be found in a book. Books, short stories, poems, all have the power to take us to a different place and sometimes it even take us to most unexpected of places where we find ourselves being moved, or inspired to go a little further, to dream a little bigger, or to stir some emotion buried deep within our hearts. 

    When this happens we awaken the magic we have within ourselves, in the magic that’s all around us, even now. It’s the magic you feel when you’re a kid and a mere blanket becomes a cape which grants you the ability to fly, or a cheap plastic ring can bestow grant you amazing magical powers. It’s the same magic that drives us to chase after our dreams, the magic when we believe everything and anything is possible. Yeah, we grow up and are told to act our age, we’re told to stop dreaming, go to school, get a job, get married and retire. Many go through the motions of this life without ever truly being alive, we forget the magic of residing within our minds, our creativity and imaginations, where we believe anything and everything is possible. It can often be found in the silver filaments of our dreams, when you get away from chance and circumstance and you have dreams where you can fly, or you’re an adventurer exploring a cavern that no one has ever before explored. There’s a certain kind of magic locked deep within our minds and its called imagination and imagination is what keeps us young. (Or keeps me young at heart to say the least) 

Of course growing up we do tend to get away from it, we stop believing in fairy tales, no longer do we believe in the magic of a moment which settles and hovers there in the air, and becomes much more than a moment, once sound stops and movement ceases for much, much more than a moment. Then after a while, you drift away and it becomes that much harder to believe in dreams and magic.

                But all is not always lost, believe me, being a writer I often at times lost several pages I had spent half the night writing and sometimes, sometimes I lost entire manuscripts I had typed out, honed and perfected . Then after I would finish shouting to the heavens and bashing my head against my desk, I would take a breath, pace back and forth in my room muttering incontinency’s and nonsense. Then I would crack my knuckles and sit back down at my computer and begin again with renewed vigor. I do all this because I have all these stories within me, characters who long to live, waiting patiently for me to tell their story. I learned a long time ago that you can never let little setbacks derail you, or become a roadblock. It happens, even to the best of us and with that I say, never lose that spark and it be replaced by that so irreplaceable spark, that animates and connects us. Remember your dreams, remember the simply joys you had as a child, when you were jumping from one couch to another in order to avoid the lava.

 Even when we get so far away from the magic and the songs within us, I believe that whenever a song stirs a memory, or when you’re sitting in a darkened theater watching a moving stirs your feelings, or moves you. For people like me, the people who do read again, this happens whenever you nose is buried in a book and you feel your heart racing as you immerse yourself in the world the author had created and you’re living the story as much as you are reading it, watching it all unfold before you as if you were there.

It is within these rare moments that you become connected with the swirling pool of magic residing in your very own heart. When you’re accompanying these characters on their journey, with your heart racing as you inch ever closer to the climax, just to breathe a sigh of relief as you reach the conclusion, for whatever it may be. Leaving you with the resolution, which sometimes brings closure, or contempt, sometimes great sadness or joy, even on the rare occasion it brings great displeasure. Because for a few minutes, these characters, these words written on a page have become real.  

For better or for worse, I grew up in a magic time, in a magic world which helped save me from the darker side of life, which is why I decided to write this. The few people who have heard about my life and my childhood tend to me how inspirational my life is, because I didn't let the darkness encroach around my heart and soul, even in the times when it threatened to swallow me whole.

But before I dive into the purpose for this post, I just would like to take a moment to say, no one has to read this, this isn't a cry for help, or asking to be pitied. Yes, some of the things I will write in “Scars of who we are,” isn't going to be an easy read, it’s not all sunshine and rainbows. It’s about my life and my struggles with growing up in a broken home, with an abusive mother and only being able to see my father every other week, which became the only thing I would ever really look forward to. My father saved my life and helped salvaged what little childhood I had and make it worth living. I love my father, despite his flaws and short comings. I know he did his best and he still tries to always be there and support me. It’s not possible to admire someone more than I do my own father.

               

This post and the ones that follow which will share this title, deals very much with struggles of being torn between two parents, being used as a weapon for one to use to harm the other, being physically and verbally abused and how I dealt with bullying. This is my true life tale and you don’t have to read it if you don’t wish too, I understand it’s not for everyone, but being as my story has gotten around and within the year I will be featured in a documentary chronicling my life story, I figure I’ll go ahead and share it with you first. The documentary will be shot by Shane Pergrem of True Artist Studios, check them out here http://www.trueartistsstudio.com

                Now I ran a bit long here so, you’ll have to wait until The Scars of who we are Part II, where I’ll actually discuss my childhood and how I actually survived my own abortion or so speak. But before I go, I would just like to inform my readers, that despite everything I been through, I survived. Even my suicide attempt I survived (obviously) but more than that, I preserved and overcame my demons and all m troubles. I’m fairly well-adjusted and my life has greatly improved and my only complaint nowadays is that there isn’t enough time in the day to do everything I want to do. But I look forward to each new day with enthusiasm, curiously, wonder, and grace. Stay tuned for part II, featuring my very own kidnapping and car chase…seriously.