I am me. April. A human. A woman. A mother. A daughter. A sister. A friend. A nurse. A recovering addict. A child of God. I love with my whole heart. I have a wall built around my heart for fear of getting hurt because Ive been hurt tremendously. I would give the shirt off of my back to anyone. My passion is helping others. I am me. I stay on facebook too much....not because I have no life....but because it is my ministry, my passion, my service work. I spend countless hours making posters & sharing them everywhere.....not because I want attention or to promote, but because I want to help, encourage, & inspire others....to give people hope....because maybe, just maybe, something I post will light a spark inside of someone that will change their life.... I do it to plant seeds with the hope that someone will take that seed, add some water to it, & grow into the beautiful person God created them to be. I am me. A fighter. A survivor. An open book. Real. I share my life....all of it....publicly. Not for attention. Not for sympathy. Because it helps me. Pain shared is pain divided. Joy shared is joy doubled. Because it shows others that they are not alone. That even with multiple years of recovery, life is still difficult at times....but you can get through it clean/sober. I am me. I cuss. I have insomnia. I have PTSD. I seek approval. I want to make a difference in the world. I believe in the power of prayer. I believe in miracles. I often feel unworthy & not good enough. I hate looking in the mirror. I am overweight. I tend to be lazy. Lol. I love to laugh & make others laugh. I am me. I am horrible with money. I hate tomatoes & love Mt. Dew. I love Christmas. I tremble with fear every time my 7 year old son goes to school because I am a survivor of a school shooting. I am me. If you ask for my opinion, I will give it to you. I dont tell people what they want to hear, but what they need to hear. I have a hard time taking criticism & an equally hard time taking compliments. I am me. I love writing poetry, but feel my poetry isnt that good. I love candles & Alabama football. Music helps me more than any therapist ever could. I isolate myself & enjoy it. I am me. I have been called a con-artist, a fake, fat, ugly, selfish, etc.... And there are times I believe it....except for the con-artist. I express my feelings best through writing/typing & I am horrible at expressing my feelings verbally. I am me. I act very tough on the outside, but on the inside I am a very soft, sensitive girl that craves love & affection, but I have a difficult time showing affection to anyone except my son & little brother. I am me. April. Perfectly imperfect. A beautiful disaster.
Posted on: Sat, 06 Dec 2014 00:43:20 +0000
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