If you have been following me, you will notice that I changed my site name from “The Invisible Child” to “Siren’s Call”. Some may be wondering “why?”
First, it is important to know that I am struggling with alot in my life right now, which was the sole purpose for this blog. Though I hoped their was someone out there who would read what I had to say, I just needed to write it.
Second, I am a creative person so I deal with things better when I can write or work with my hands. What does this have to do with the title change? I’ll tell you.
“The invisible child” represented only that dark side of me so I never felt like I was able to write anything else. Though, I write better when I am wrought with pain, I do have other ideas and thoughts to share. “Siren’s Call” will represent everything I need to say or want to say and the title is just as it says. It is a call for a listener. I hope those who follow me will continue to and I hope those who are reading this for the first time will enjoy what they are in for. Take care, everyone.
“I think about my mom’s note all the time – “Tell Meredith not to…” Not to cave? Not to care? Not to give up so easily? Not to fall in love? Not to have children? Not to tell a lie? She left me wondering what to do, what not to do. She left me knowing everything was up to me, and me alone. And, she left me with no one to ask so I would decide what she meant to write. Tell Meredith not to be afraid. Goodbye mom.”
-Meredith Grey/Grey’s Anatomy
I think about you daily
the things you’d do and say
I think about you until the night
And all along the day
And when it seems like all is lost
I gaze up at the stars
searching for honest answers
heeding words from …afar
This poem is dedicated to my Aunt Marie who passed away from Cancer at the beginning of March. I miss her and think about her often.
Where am I? This obscure darkness is clouding any glimmer of light.
Have I perished? Is this my eternal damnation?
My mortal frame will not shift. My limbs are frozen as if I were a cement statue on display for anyone to glare and snicker.
I no longer feel agony, merriment, or even irritation. My physical form has become a ghost, a hallow shell that harbors my beating heart.
Wait. Is my heart beating? I no longer can comprehend.
What if the end isn’t near? How will I be freed from these shadows?
Is solidarity eminent? I can’t end like…
The excerpt above is written from a thought perspective.
Like many people in the world, I am a person who has a seizure disorder. I was diagnosed with Epilepsy when I was a little girl, and have lived with it for over twenty years. In most recent years, it has actually become more difficult.
Written above is what comes to mind when I think about what happens. Even though I am unconscious when I have a seizure, I wake up feeling disoriented. Usually, I have the feeling of “If I did not come out of that, I could have died”. Not being able to utilize my motor skills is terrifying, discouraging, distressing, and tiresome. Above are my thoughts on what I believe I would contemplate in my own consciousness during a seizure.
Click here for more information on seizure types and ways to help people with Epilepsy!
Hope you enjoy it, and thanks so much to all those who read my blog posts!!
“There comes a point where it all becomes too much. When we get too tired to fight anymore. So we give up. That’s when the real work begins. To find hope where there seems to be absolutely none at all.”
– Cristina Yang/Grey’s Anatomy
Can I tell you
a story of that night?
You stood before
as I laid there with a knife
straight from behind
my trust in you
“You forgot me”
Raelynne sighed as tears began to grace her face.
“It was an accident, ” her mother tried to assure her.
She turned her back to her mother, and shook her head wearily. As she walked up to her room, she whispered softly to herself, “I don’t believe you”.
Raelynne flopped face first into her pillows and sheets as the stream of tears broke through the damn that was her eyes.
She lay silently, closed off from the rest of the world as she wondered,
“Am I invisible?”
There was a girl with a future ahead
in a short fell swoop those dreams became dead
As hard as she tries no one sees her dying heart
A grade A poker face, no one sees her crying
Alone now, she looks through the glass
silence as she watches her reflection pass
What could of been is now history
Blurred is her will of change
Mirror on the wall she stares into deep
Who’s the girl who wishes for eternal sleep
But before she could see her cold hard face
The mirror showed her change is what awaits.
Photo taken and Edited by Clouds Photography