2010 Revealed

I got up this morning feeling unaccomplished. I’ve worked since I was 14 and not being able to do so now makes my stomach turn. I had been out of work for 2 months after my school closed and I was twiddling my thumbs. Once again I was confused about my education and the career I wanted to take on.

While I was teaching I finished 2 medical programs and decided to just keep going. I am on the brink of graduating from another despite my recent dive in health. I drifted into a deep depression just a few months ago and managed to get myself a hold of some anti-depressants and anxiety pills. A doctor actually prescribed them. I knew exactly what to say. I was ill, out of touch with reality, and I felt no need to go on. There was nothing wrong with me mentally at all. I was lazy, tired, and more than willing to give up. The devil was afoot and I was about to let him win.

I took the pills for about a week until I started to feel like my insides were jumping. I was rocking and shaking like a crack head with Parkinson’s Disease. I was worse off on them than not. I flushed them down the toilet and turned to God.

I was confused because since the start of 2009 I had formulated a 2-3 year plan. It was all or nothing. By the time I was to turn 32 I would have completed the credentials I needed to adjust to today’s economy. Stepping forward the next year or so I would find myself a job and settle down.

Now, life happens. That is true. Though this time when life happened I didn’t just through in the towel, however tempting. I wanted desperately to say forget it and get back on disability. I was sure they would give it to me in a heartbeat because of my wavering consciousness and physical deterioration. Still, I waited for an answer from God.

In the meantime I started to write. I wrote how I felt, I wrote about what was going on about me. I wrote about the changes in my life and how it may affect those around me. There I revisited my times of failure, success, and illness. I revealed things about myself I had yet to realize. For the life of me some of the things placed on those pages I can’t remember even writing. I also never felt like I had that talent until I’d looked down to realize I had written 2 full books.

Now the year of 2010 is nearing its end. I have suffered from pain and disappointment. Having fallen, I was filled with the determination to succeed. Dusting myself off I cracked open my books and completed the assignments due. I continued to write as I was awarded medical leave from school. I was given a chance to finish without attending. Via online I took my assigned tests and turned in my work. Subsequently, I will graduate a week earlier than the rest of my peers.

7 weeks left in my program. I am ready to place a check by this achievement. There was an answer from God as well. 5 books now complete. Throughout the two months of depression, I locked myself in a cave.

All I had were my thoughts, a pen, pad, and my laptop. My smart phone served its purpose well, as I waited for my doctor to call me during my frequent visits to the hospital. Out of all this my books have been accepted for publication.

I skipped a very vital part of this story. I didn’t have the courage to submit my work. It all started when I was teaching at the Y with two of my fellow directors. Two different sites two different co-workers, now very good friends of mine. Not last but not least my fiancé’ which believed that God didn’t have me sitting up all those nights clicking and clunking around on this laptop of mine for nothing.

He told me that I should submit my work to be published. I thought that was hilarious. I was in school. I had my plan ironed out to a T, why confuse all this with a side-job that I may not have time to continue.
I began to question whether my sickness played a hand in Gods plan. Don’t ask me what he was doing or where he was going with all this. I am just a vessel. So I wrote on. I put together a manuscript of my first work. I small motivational book which told of my illness, fear of independence, and morals. A simple map that I had made to render my own lack of esteem to profit towards a willingness to accept accomplishment. I ran out to staples in my snowflake pajamas from the Christmas before and had it bond, after of course I placed a copyright on my written material. I made three copy’s and rushed one over to my grandmothers for aunt Staci to read, and one to my mother. I kept one for myself and later gave that one to my brother.

After getting some feedback I decided to do some research on the whole publishing bit. There were several ways to go. So I self-published my first works. 4 weeks later I received an email from a traditional publishing company with whom had interest in publishing my book. Now afraid, I stepped back and sat on the email for another week. I read my book over about three times. I decided that it wasn’t good enough and ignored the offer.

When the agency didn’t hear from me for about a month one of the gals decided to send me another email. She asked if I had looked over the contract, and if I had any questions. I of course had made my piece with the whole righting business. I had packed all of my filled composition books up and moved right along seeing that I needed to finish the school thing. The rules could not be broken. That was the promise I had made myself for 2010. I had to finish what I started no matter what. It wasn’t about money for me, It was about becoming a reliable person.

We all say what we want to do and become but; life does get in the way of genuine thought out plans. However, often when the smoke clears we still sit and allow the dust to cover our dreams, thus they become deferred.

Moving back to the heart of this story, I finally took the time to sit down and listen to God. I also found the time to calm my nerves. I had been writing so much that I thought my brain would explode. I was so fearful that this time would be the end. I needed to finish these works so that I had something to leave my children. I don’t know it may seem weird but becoming something big has always been an issue for me. I could taste it. Again it wasn’t the money. Not many authors become flourishing bestsellers and or have movies based on their books. Unless they were famous first. Most fund their own novels and biographical memoirs.
One day I was taking a shower, which seems to be the place good plots and ideas derive. I found myself jumping out of the shower, and running into my room dripping wet. I had to get back to my computer. The plot thickened as my fingers fought to keep up with my mind. I was so afraid I would loose it. I nearly started to cry. In that moment I knew that I had a passion for writing. I always had. I failed to realize it because I was always in search of something else. I am elated about the fact that I have found a way to effectively convey messages, I can dream big. Not that I couldn’t before. The difference now is that I know what it is I am dreaming about.

2010, has been a year of awakening for me. A time to stop talking and start doing. I am happy to say that by the time I hit 32 my education will be complete. I may take a class or two just to keep up with the times. My writing will also be a career of mine that is secondary to my stable pay, but it will serve as a great way of self counsel. I used to think that my background in psychology was for not. It turns out medicine and mind go hand and hand. It put me a step ahead of everyone else. The mind is a very beautiful thing. Use it wisely.
　
All rights reserved, Copyright 2010, Aija M. Butler　

Well Beyond Our Means

Working and feeling great about it material things seemed to over whelm my inner database. When I was out of work, I thought logically about ways in which to spend our families monthly earnings. As we knew that it had to last us threw the month. Once the money began to come easy. Budgeting our finances went straight out the window.

We started to live beyond our means. Living with in comfort would have been the logical thing to do. However, those wants that were listed on our refrigerator were now at arms reach and we couldn’t see past the greed. We had the means to live beyond our usual comfort zone, and we took advantage of the situation instead of investing our riches in to long-term ventures.

Those dreams of security and stability were possible; but instead of purchasing one family car we purchased two. Instead of getting a home that would accommodate us comfortably at a decent price. We bought a home with more rooms needed. At a much higher price that we could not afford in the event one of us lost our cushy jobs.

Plan accordingly not only to your individual paths plans and visions; but as a family. Look to the future to gain and not have to return. Whether it be returning items to the store to get necessity’s. Or back pedaling to where you had managed to escape.

Pushing forward means, that you are adding steps to your ladder of success. Mistakes are to be made, but as I said before make these mistakes life experience that we learn from.

Myself and hubby had way beyond our means at one point and time. We allowed the look and feel of money to steal our dreams of comfort. Now that we have learned, we are on a true path of success. In which we and our children reap the benefits there of.

After The Storm

After the storm the clouds lightened to a pearl white. The rain left puddles of water and wet leaves. It was clear and quiet outside my window. The soft knock of the rain had gone. I came from under my soft blanket. I took refuge shielding myself from the angry winds. Still the thunderous rage, pounded outside my wall, until the storms end. The thunder no longer threatened to take my soul. It slithered away cowardly. The wind stopped screaming at my window. Branches from the winds rage were scattered upon the ground. They died during winds wrath, separating from their roots. A disastrous event of nature, that destroys but must come to pass in order for the earths survival.

Life after the storm is much like the quiet just before the storm hits. We don’t know how hard it will hit or what kind of damage our earthly possessions will sustain, but there is no running from it. Life happens, in scenes. Like a movie it jumps back and forth from character to character. Life’s changing adventures take place and we don’t know where and when or how bad or good the outcome will be; but we roll with the punches.

Age Appropriate

I was sitting in the living room watching the kids at play. I noticed that the entire group of residents, were having a ball. My nose raised high to the sky.

I was irritated at best. The fact that the adults were engaging in such activity, was so irresponsible. I fought back the screams. I was close to tearing the whole lot of them from limb to limb. What idiots they were. Laughing joking having fun.

You see my point yet. Here is another. Last eve the family and myself were quietly enjoying a movie. Oh what peace, you could literally here a pen drop. The wonders of the movie "Toy Story," are amazing. I ran out and picked up every sequel. You could hear nothing,  but small bits of laughter, and the crunch of popcorn munching in their little mouths.

About an hour into the movie, we heard some yelling just outside the door. It took one leap, from the couch just to watch the folk yelling and threatening to end one anothers lives. Everyone else stood at their doors in awe as well. Such madness! I choose to participate in, but the noise of the family and children screaming aggrevated me so.

The age appropriate thing to do was to perhaps call the authoritys. The noise was sheer disturbance of the peace. Althought the yelling in the home was abit much, no one was in danger. Its ok to relax once in a while.

Tonight is completely different for once in a long time. The noise is well over the civilized level. The children have no desire to abide by the rules. Inside voices don't seem to exist, and my smile is vividly bright. I found it age appropriate to spend some time with my family. I also found it fulfilling to enjoy the laughter and join in the fun.

It sure was far more age appropriate than to stand idly by and watch two adults embarrass themselves and their familys by fighting in the streets. I think its also age appropriate to know when its time to check yourself, and stand up for whats and right and wrong.

I checked myself about my irritation at good wholesome fun, and the ignorance of street fighting. It was needed, and the age appropriate thing to do.

Breaking Point

I am close to the edge. My feet keep slipping off the curb. The pavement is wet. I can almost feel the concrete hitting my face before falling. The blow knocks me against a wall of glass. The glass doesnt break just yet, but its cracked. My hands are bloody. There are bits of glass burried into the palms of my hands. They resemble small diamond crystals glistening into the suns light.

Even though the space on the curb was large enough for me to walk freely, something was forcibly pushing me to the edge. I was so tired the tears welled in my eyes and my palms clinched into a tight fist. I was so angry I hadnt noticed the glass sinking further into my blood stream. The glass embedded into my palms was now a permanant part of my anatomy. I was nearing the end. The lights came on. I was fluttering around like a fish out of water. I awoke from a trance, I was on staged. I didnt know how I'd got there, but the lights were so bright, they blinded me. My audience stood, and with great joy from my performance they all stood and began to clap. My performance was grand. The roses fell at my feet. The ground was in plain view. Confused and disorientated I stepped towards the edge of the stage once more. I squinted and blinked hard twice the room spun in circles. I couldnt stand all the noise. I began to shake my head and rub my face.

The glass in my hands cut me open. I was surpised by the fresh taste of blood. I thought this was all an act. A part in a play. Instead perhaps I was the puppet. I was breaking now. My face became still and my painted lips began to stain with blood. My tears glowed in the dark, and my hands sparkled as i held them high towards the light.

The glass solidified in my face, and begun to crack. As the hardening took affect, I became startled, but before I could panic my heart and soul froze like stone. I was looked inside and I couldnt fight or scream for help. Seconds later after my mummbling screams turned to a faint whisper. A operatic scream filled the theater. The sound resounding vibrantly across the audience, and well onto the stage.

My glass frame began to shake. I began to sway to and fro, as the voice approached near. An angry face appeared into the light. Screaming, laughing, and pushing me with her voice. I fell to the ground. I shattered into pieces. My breaking point had come to a head. It had destroyed me, and all that i was worth.
She fell back laughing and gloating at her accomplishments. She was a miserable soul, and took great pride in the lives she stole and destroyed. My eye froze in one of the pieces of broken glass. She caught site of the glistening piece of my wounded frame, and held it close. It lay in the palm of her hands.

With every fiber of my being, broken soul, and mind. I muster up the last excreting passions of life and closed my eye. I would not her the satisfaction of looking into my tear felt eye. She was an abomination to my soul. I had reached my breaking point, because she so visiousiously pushed me over the edge.

If I had the chance again I woud fight. I would turn the tables, and expose her plans from the start. I wavered and I held on, but as she grew close to me, I froze. Instead of attempting for move out of her wraths direction, I stood and held my ground. I didn't coware away, but I didn't fight either.

What will you allow to be your breaking point? My worst enemy is me.