The last I posted was two years ago. I actually planned to never post again. But months ago one of my best friends causally mentioned that I should start my art mommy blog again because at least I have something to say. I scoffed and said yeah in a million years and said goodnight. But the thing is that that small statement has wormed its way into my head and I cant get it out.
I last posted 2 years ago, I was trying to be okay with a life and marriage imploding. I was desperately trying to hold the shattering fragments of my life and dreams with my bare hands. I wanted to have everything be Instagram and Pintrest perfect. That shiny filter of success and ease. The perfect wife. The perfect mother. The perfect daughter. The perfect friend. I wanted my life to meet the approval of others and this blog was going to prove it. It was going to show a journey of pretty living and smooth sailing. I was going to put a candy coloured coating on all the bad spots until they disappeared.
But two years happened. And my life imploded. My marriage ended in fire and brimstone. Ugly words and lies. Petty actions and heart break that is so indescribable that I wont ever go into detail. I became a part time single mom in which my daughter goes between two houses the ambassador to two camps that do not speak. I have lost jobs; in fact I cant seem to keep a job in this town. I have lost home and family. My father has become so ill that I feel sometime that I have lost him forever. My ADHD became unmanageable and guess what I am depressed and needing treatment for that as well. Two years happened and I hit rock bottom and continued to fall.
Two years happened. And I discovered what it was like to be a phoenix. I started to know true strength. I started to make amazing friends again; those of who with out I would be so lost in the dark. I started to became aware of faith so fragile that a single breath would shatter it and yet it guards my sanity. I started to dream about my future again. I started to work on healing myself and protecting myself. I started to follow my true passions. I started.
My life is no where near Instagram or Pintrest worthy. I am so messed up that some days I have trouble functioning. My house is a mess, I am with out steady work and I rely on the charity of others to get by most days. I take medications to help me heal and control the run away trains in my brain. I struggle. I struggle with so much that I thought I had reason to be ashamed.
But that one sentence spoke off hand to me wont leave my head. That I have something to say. And I do. I have things to say and I am not sure if anyone is going to listen but maybe just maybe there is someone struggling out there. Someone who has had their heart broken. Someone who is struggling with issues like ADHD or depression. Someone who just feels like the worst failure in the world. Maybe they will read this and not feel so alone. I want to share my journey. I want to show that brokenness can lead to completion and that it is not a straight path. That it is so messy and ugly that it seems like things will never become whole again.
I am not starting this from the sad beginning or the happy ending but from the messy middle. If you would like to join me on this path I would be honored. I wont be consistent with the posts; the ADHD will get the better on me for that one. But I wont candy coat the the dark parts and maybe that will make the bright parts all that much brighter. This wont be an artsy mommy blog, this will be life. My life. Feel free to follow along.