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Warning Long Post.
It is rambley post.

In the words of Dylan Thomas, “Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light.”

Today I saw a post from a year ago about how my wounds were closed.

I see this and I am reminded how far I have come. Yes I am still working toward the goal of walking though Walmart solo, yes I am still dealing with medical crap and will be it seems til the day Hades calls me home. I do however have a bit more faith that It’s not my time to go, and if it is, well, I’m going to be leaving my mark in the world.

We need to as human beings, help each other when we can. I’m not talking donating millions of dollars I mean small things like hugging a friend who needs it, texting someone to say hey, I am here. Buying a cup of coffee for the person who you know lives on that street, so I am trying to do that in whatever small way I can.

I have come to figure some things out about myself, and while I may not like the road my journey has lead me down, I refuse to buckle and give up.

Scar tissue forms after a battle.. emotional, physical.. mentally. It’s the body and mind’s way of defending a weak point that was injured. Scars can be faint over time but they never go away. They can be ugly and thick, they can actually make something more beautiful because it shows how far someone has come. My scars are my battle markings. Scottish people I believe used to paint their faces in blue to scare the armies of their enemies. I don’t paint my face blue, I wear mascara, high ligher and lipstick to give me strength and to show people no one is going to beat me anymore.

So, every minute I have left, every painful step, back spasm, leg cramp, sleepless night wincing from pain or worry over how I will pay this next medical bill off, every brutal exhaustive moment I will keep fighting.

I will fight for the right to sing, half ass dance, to hold my husband’s hand, to watch my friends’ children grow and become who they will be, to worship my gods in peace, to celebrate birthdays with joy and mourn death with sorrow knowing some day it will come back to get me.

I will rage against the dying of the light, and I will embrace all that I have seen, done, defeated, fought and will fight. I will not regret my choices again, because they made me tougher to break then titanium, so much stronger then steel.

I will never stop fighting, even when it’s gotten to the point I should, because it’s not in me to give up.

I’ve overcome so much already in my forty years. I have dealt with child abuse, child rape, being bullied, depression, mental illness, PTSD, cancer, health issues, NF, lung failure, Dying, PT, and I am still here. I have been beating the odds since I was born and I do not plan on ever stop beating them.
My Life is not easy, nor has it ever been easy. I am however saying we all need to to find that inner strength to do better then we have before.

This is me. Like it, love it..hate it. Nothing is going to stop me from becoming who I am meant to be. I no longer am letting other people decide my worth.

Only ~I~ can define my worth. And I think I’m pretty damn amazing.

 

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