Aug 20, 2019

If you read last weeks post, skip to the bottom of the page for the 2nd poem. The beginning of this post is the same as last weeks.

 By the way, I truly appreciate you spending some of your time with me.

 April 2, 1982

Nope, that’s not a typo. I was 18 years old then. At the time, I was taking night classes to get my high school diploma. I wasn’t a bad kid, but in the middle of a life filled with some bad circumstances.

My friends say they remember seeing a for sale sign in the front yard of our house, and the next thing they knew, I was gone. What I remember, hmmm, I wish it was that quick and easy.

I will elaborate at a later date but the matter of facts are:

My parents filed for divorce. My Dad moved to Detroit, MI. My Mom moved to Indianapolis, IN. My sisters were away at college. I wanted to finish out my Senior year, obviously at my current high school as we had lived there 10yrs. There, was a suburb of Buffalo, NY.  So, I tried living with a friend to finish out my senior year but there were 2 major problems.

1. She had 2 crazy mean Siamese Cats...ok a problem, but not enough to not live there, just creep me out.

2. Her mother was an alcoholic. That was a problem.  I couldn’t take anymore of anything.

I was fragile and just trying to survive. So that December I joined my mother in Indiana. I could not face going to a regular high school so I went to Night School. I would get the 3 Indiana credits I needed just to get a High School Diploma. Wow, had my life changed.  As you can imagine, the classroom looked like a jigsaw puzzle where none of pieces came from the same box. Somehow, they eventually fit together and the puzzle spelled DIPLOMA.

On April 2, 1982, during that time, I sat and wrote three poems….one right after the other. I was sitting on the floor, between two twin beds, my back supported by the matching brown nightstand. I was in my Mother’s apartment. I guess mine too, but feeling like I belonged anywhere was difficult. I’m still not sure how these words flowed so easily from me? How they were making so much sense? I wasn’t scratching out and rewriting much of anything. My only guess, it was almost like a cleansing of my feelings from the past 4 years. That’s when my parents began to have marital problems.

When I reread these now, I sound like I had lived a lifetime. I was only 18 yrs old. But it also was the beginning of understanding how writing/journaling helps to heal.

Here is the second of those poems.


What do you do when you're very confused and have no one to turn to? 

You don't know which way is up or even down.

Your emotions are limited, but you still never know quite what you're felling at any one given time.

One moment you feel happy and the next sad.

You sit and ponder, what could have triggered your emotions to change so fast?

It just doesn't make sense!

Why does it happen?

Why can't you find the answer?

You don't have one specific problem but you feel like the world is crumbling beneath you and you're trying everything to stop it but can't!

You turn here, there, but nothing brings that special smile back on your face.

Your temper turns short when just yesterday you had all the patience and the world sitting in your palm.

Turning and turning you go in circles not being able to stop yourself.

Reaching, grasping, upwards as you fall further and further downward in the hole.

You become desperate. Even screaming to strangers for help.



Please catch me before I hit the bottom,

the end,

the last step,

the final goodbye.



The Guide is best viewed on a desktop or laptop. To make it super easy for you to use, you can type your thoughts/answers  from your computer.  
When you live life true to who you are, it is truly freeing and empowering.