I am a warrior. 

I had a pretty okay day till someone decided to say that putting up a prank positive test would be funny and she didn’t understand why it offended people. I tried to explain that I had babies still born about three weeks ago and it wasn’t funny it was hurtful. She still “argued” it was offensive. I don’t get people. I don’t understand anything about people sometimes. 

My heart hurts and I keep telling myself I  was never created to depressed, defeated, condemned, ashamed, guilty, or to be an addict. I was born to be victorious. So just remember, today is the day you were worried about yesterday. Live, love, and remember there is no wrong in asking for help. I need help. I need to feel that fight to get up In the morning. 

I have three beautiful who need me to show them it’s okay to be hurt, it’s okay to be devistated, it’s okay to cry, and it’s okay to mourn. It’s okay to laugh, it’s okay to smile. I’m starting to learn that I should not feel guilty for smiling with my other three children because my other two are now guardians. I’m learning that I can still feel hurt but I can hug and kiss my other babies. It felt like I was cheating. Like I was hurting Tristian and Thorin by laughing and hugging their siblings. But, it’s not hurting them. I know they are smiling and laughing with us. I know they are hugging us. 

It still hurts to breath, it still hurts to move, it still hurts to open my eyes. I still can’t accept that my loves are gone. But I can not put that pain on my three children who are infront of me. I have to tell myself this. Taylinn was sitting on my lap and was kissing all over my face and hugging me and I thought it wasn’t okay to smile till I felt their light on me basically telling me it’s okay. So, I hugged her and kissed her and laughed. I laughed a real laugh with my daughter. It was beautiful and I know she appreciates it because she held me closer and told me she loved me. 

I realize I am not a survivor. Survivors just go through life. I am a warrior. Why?” Because even in times of trauma, we try to maintain a sense of normality until we no longer can. That, my friends, is called surviving. Not healing. We never become whole again … we are survivors. If you are here today… you are a survivor. But those of us who have made it thru hell and are still standing? We bare a different name: warriors…”

I have scars on my wrists and my scars remind me that I did indeed survive my deepest wounds. That in itself is an accomplishment. And they bring to mind something else, too. They remind me that the damage life has inflicted on me has, in many places, left me stronger and more resilient. What hurt me in the past has actually made me better equipped to face the present.”

This pain is something that reminds me to live. It reminds me to stay strong for my five kids. For ALL five of my kids. For every miscarriage I have had, I grew. For every time I used a needle during my addiction, I grew. For every time I said no and cried through the pain of being raped, I grew. For every time he laid a hand on me, I grew. For every contraction I had pushing out my still born twins, I grew. I grew stronger to be who I am today. I am more then a survivor, I am a god damned warrior. 


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