Writing is my escape into a world all my own, sometimes terrifying yet always bringing me a step closer to the mystery that is life and my identity as a part of it. After a life time of insults, three years struggling with bulimia, a deep depression, ADhD, many medications, hospitals, and the other teenage difficulties I've dealt and am dealing with, I've really begun to rely on my writing as away to release the emotions that have built up inside me. It is amazing how much I've learned about myself, society, and life.
Words written on a page hold more than their initial meanings intent.
The air that fills my lungs is foreign to my body.
My body, which is unrecognizable
To my own eyes.
Yet I must be myself,
...
I am from. Abandonment
From other’s laughter and my overwhelming sadness.
I am from, the love
I will never have and the anger I express.
...
This time my entire body is smiling.
The honesty of it all
Has filled me
With an overwhelming fear.
...