Momma bustles around the kitchen, smells of macaroni and cheese, mashed potatoes, and pumpkin pie fill the air. I sit on the stairs above the kitchen, enjoying the smells and the solitude before the day begins. Soon enough, family will swarm the house. Noises of laughter, dogs barking, and football cheers will stream from the house. And I am grateful.

We’ll gather around the table for lunch and laughter. We’ll play cards and my cousin will inevitably complain and request that we have one family gathering that doesn’t involve someone breaking out in to song. We’ll ignore him and sing louder. And I am grateful.

My family will nap in the living room as whatever football team we’re supposed to be cheering for runs up and down the field. The dogs will cuddle on the floor and the couch, snuggling up to whomever will allow them near. And I am grateful.

For a house filled with love. For a house filled with dogs. For a house filled with family. For a life others pray for and I sometimes take for granted. I am grateful.

#IamGrateful

Words can never suffice to express my eternal gratitude to You.

Nor would my actions be enough to show you how thankful I am to have You in my life.

You give me solace whenever I turn to You in my dark moments.

You remind me of my place in this world when I am careless.

You let me cry when I need to.

You never say too little or too much.

Always giving me leads to urge me the way back home on my own.

You listen to me unconditionally.

You never judge although I know I have made many silly wrongturns in my life.

You remain kind throughout my difficult times.

Never have I felt that much comfort in anything or anyone.

I know I will never be able to repay all that goodness properly.

But I will keep on trying.

I strive to do good by others and to have no malice in my heart.

Just as how You have done unto me without any ask of repayments.

I will do as many “Pay It Forwards” as I can so You will be proud that I had finally understood the meaning of humanity.

I want to spread kindness to everyone just as how You have showered me with it on countless occasions.

But the truth remains that I will never measure up to what You have given me.

I want so much for the world to know how much You mean to me.

How I am eternally grateful to have You in my life then, now and forever.

Nothing says I love you more than being alive longer than your pubescent self ever dreamed of

And nothing says thank you more than giving yourself another chance

I can’t say that everyday is easy, or even worth fighting for

But what I can say is that I’m here, and I will continue to be here for as long as I allow myself to continue loving and being thankful

And that makes all the difference

she smiles, she laughs,

shakes her little legs,

moves her little fingers,

playing with my chubby ones.

I'm grateful for that.

she likes to watch,

as I play piano,

or wash the dishes,

she likes to watch other people doing stuff,

the future manager,

i'm grateful for that.

I'm grateful that life seems meaningful,

Grateful that we can give things to her,

Grateful for the diapers , and washing cloths,

grateful for that she is there.

it sounds so sweet, and in another life I would gag.

but right now, I can't get enough of this sweetness.

My Favorite Person:

That is what I call him. No, he is not my own child. He is the son of one of my siblings.

He is my nephew.

Do I love him more than my own child?

No, I do not.

How is that possible?

Love and favoritism are different.

A teacher will always have a few students that stand out in his or her mind over a teaching career.

Maybe it was the one who tried the hardest, or learned the most. Maybe, it was the most challenging or best behaved.

Nevertheless, it does not mean the teacher ‘loved’ any of these students. Yet, they are or were ‘favorites.’

My point being, just because someone is our favorite does not necessarily mean we love them the most.

People often think love and favoritism are one in the same-

They are not.

This misconception has become so popular, I asked my nephew to “keep it between us” that he is my favorite. I expained to him the reason; similar to the teacher who does not want to hurt the feelings of the other students, I do not want to hurt the feelings of my own child or the rest if his cousins.

“Why am I your favorite?” He asked.

I replied, “because it is you, where I see myself the most. It is you, who inspired me to write my first book and it was you, who taught me how to be an auntie.”

He smiled. I then read to him “Hi IQ.” A piece I wrote for him as he struggled in school. I told him how I shared this write on the prose and how creative people think differently. I then told him that I would ask his parent/my sibling to chooses a different punishment for a ‘not so good’ report card.

“A creative person needs their outlet!” I protested.

“My F.P.” was pleased when his musical instrument was returned.

My sibling took away the video game instead and I began tutoring “My F.P.”

I do love him, second only to my own child...

“Between us.”

By: Benz

©11/4/19

My favorite person is my daughter.

At 16 years old, she’s much wiser than me.

In 6th grade she was excluded from a long time friend’s birthday celebration.

I was mad on her behalf,

But she took it in stride, “I guess there were people she felt closer to, I understand.”

In 9th grade, she and her best friend drifted apart.

Instead of dwelling, she moved on and surrounded herself with those who loved her.

She is passionate about her school,

And encourages her friends to be too.

She’s involved in so many extra curricular activities, it’s hard to keep count.

She chooses to challenge herself,

Takes as many Advanced Placement and Honors classes as she is allowed to.

Not only does she have a heavy course load,

But earns As and Bs.

She doesn’t know what she wants to do after high school,

But whatever it is, I know she’s bound for greatness.

I can’t believe that I help make this incredible human being.

I am proud to call her mine.

It is routine for an ER triage nurse to ask what your level of pain is using a scale of one to ten with ten being the worst pain imaginable. Of course, the nurse is referring to physical pain from an injury or acute condition to measure the symptom that brought you to the emergency room in the first place. Thirty minutes after administering pain medication for a broken leg the nurse will ask again how you rate your pain between 1-10. The majority will answer with a lower number because that is how pain medication works. Immediately. Unfortunately, there is no scale for emotional pain. There is also no medication for emotional crisis that brings relief within a half hour. While the patient with the crutches and cast on their leg may be in agony they will not have to hide their pain. A co-worker may bring dinner by or drive them to physical therapy appointments which aids in the healing process because of the comforting feeling of being cared for by family and friends. Emotional pain remains incognito due to the stigma attached to mental illness. Last week I was absent from work due to a migraine and elevated blood pressure. It was true that I had a headache and hypertension but I could not call in and say, "I won't be in today. My depression has flared up which is causing my entire body to be gorilla glued to my bed." There is no meals on wheels for panic attacks or meltdowns even if it was not camouflaged. People are scared of even discussing emotions because that requires getting deep and no one wants that, right? All that negative energy might spill on them and leave a stain. Emotional pain is hidden, misunderstood and most importantly has no scale.

lovelove

I'm not always sad and depressed.

But I am always struggling to deal with the symptoms of bipolar disorder.

But for those struggling with mental health as well, I want you to know you're not alone.

That's why I share my darkest thoughts and deepest feelings, because I want others to know it's okay to feel alone. It's okay to feel whatever you are feeling.

I want to start a conversation about feelings and mental health.

At sixteen my heart was filled with songs and stories swept up with the thought of love.

By eighteen he occupied every corner.

Fairytales were now for those who did not know love, not like I did.

Shortly into nineteen my heart was shattered.

It took years to put the pieces back together.

And the pieces that no longer fit, were left behind [with him].

When he showed up at twenty-one, I was cautious.

I made him earn every corner this time, trialing through every jagged piece.

He survived and claimed his place in my heart.

In turn I bound myself to him.

Almost to twenty-seven he asked for his release.

Again, my heart was shattered.

Benumbed, I let the pieces of my heart fall away.

At twenty-nine, I wondered where he was and if my heart had strength to hold him.

With glue and tape I rebuilt the closest thing to a heart I could assemble.

Now I walk through the crumbling hallways day in and out, waiting for him.

The waiting room is empty, but the door is open.

The thing about emotional pain

is its power, something much more than two simple words

Emotional pain doesn’t have to leave physical scars but its hurt does remain,

the bone-crushing weight of your whole world,

everything around you spins, messing with your head,

everything you’ve ever felt comes back and gnaws away at you

everything bad anyone’s ever done to you or said,

leaving you broken and lost, confused by what’s left to do.

The thing about emotional pain,

is its lack of a cure.

You fall down on your knees over and over again,

whether or not you'll ever be able to get back up, you're not sure.

It's almost guaranteed to bring a never-ending battle that you feel you'll never win,

fighting voices in your own head that remind you you'll never be enough,

leaving you raw and empty without painkillers after slandering you for your sin,

leaving you hopeless, consumed by the painful knowledge that things are pretty rough.

The thing about emotional pain,

is its build-up to physical hurt.

After endless nightmares plaguing you time and time again,

after never-ending lonely nights that leave you lost in a state of discomfort,

things about you have changed, things you can’t quite explain.

You can no longer find the will to stand up, handicapped or not,

your heart is shattered, your enthusiasm battered, feeling like a trainwreck,

your mental health on the rocks, your energy all drained after years of battles fought,

so tired of fighting day and night, don’t know how you’ll ever get back.

The thing about emotional pain,

is its detrimental, destructive effect,

when the same toxic thoughts haunt you over and over again.

Every time it hits you hard, you know for sure, your life, it will affect.

The whirlwind of emotions that overwhelm you in a second,

from fiery, vicious rage to bottled up sadness,

you cling onto your last slivers of hope as though eternity beckon,

leaving you nothing more than a crying mess.

The thing about emotional pain,

is its inability to be disregarded.

You can't shut it out of your mind, it will remain,

you can't seem to ignore it when you've been bombarded.

A floodgate of memories unleashed, triggered by a single hate-filled thought,

pain-filled, intense, overwhelming, everything coming for your fragile mind in a flash,

unprepared to face the troubles and anxieties a simple thought had brought,

as in vain hope to escape from your own head, you break out in a mad, insane dash.

The thing about emotional pain,

is the numbing sensation it causes when it's beaten you, its favourite way to gloat.

It leaves you with your head spinning from the negative thoughts you can no longer restrain,

your stomach churning and that nauseating feeling welling up in your throat,

as you lie on the bathroom floor and prepare yourself for another painful night.

You take a deep breath even as it hurts to breathe, wishing all the pain away,

clutching your stomach and burying your face in your knees, for it takes all your might,

not to grab that bottle of pills or the shiny blade resting on the counter and take your own life that very day.

The thing about emotional pain,

is its strength over you.

How it's powerful to the extent it can take over your brain,

showering you with insults that gnaws away at you, even when it's not true.

The harsh taunts and cruel sneers sting your skin like acid rain,

the vicious remarks and nasty rumours pulling you in, never letting you out,

the nightmares that swirl around your mind where every look is that of disdain,

leaving you scarred, afraid and confused, till even who are you, you doubt.

The thing about emotional pain,

is its undeniable existence.

It never seems to truly leave you, always lurking in the dark before it strikes again,

overwhelming you when you're unable to defend yourself against its persistence.

When it hammers you with doubtful thoughts that never fade,

when even the voices in your head start to scream things derogatory,

till, even by your own thoughts and mind, you've been betrayed,

till you crouch down in a ball on the cold floor and yell out, why me?

The thing about emotional pain,

is its power to declare an internal battle it forces you to fight.

You find yourself facing off with your own thoughts again,

despite the fact that you fought the last battle with all your might.

It twists your mind, forcing you to fight against your own head,

as dark thoughts enter, forcing the carefree ones to leave,

as you plot your own downfall, sitting teary-eyed on your bed,

because now, only the thought of your own life ending can bring you peace.

The thing about emotional pain,

is its strength so powerful, you fight losing battles against yourself

as you take a deep breath to fight the demons in your head yet again,

to battle the negative thoughts swirling around your own mind itself.

It eats away at the happiness, the light left within you,

until gone is the happiness, left behind in its place is darkness.

This darkness...slowly takes over you.

This darkness...slowly destroys you.

This darkness...slowly defines you.

This darkness...slowly becomes you.

- b ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡