I was experiencing one of those my-brain-has-turned-to-mush kind of days. Where I was having trouble focusing between my thirty minute “lunch break” between jobs, which is me driving from point A to point B while scarfing down cold pizza or a sandwich.

With my thumbs up music shuffling from my phone into the blue tooth in my car, a song came on that I didn’t know I needed to hear.

The deep archives of the same emo bands I’ve been listening to for well over ten years conjured up a compilation track that isn’t for the faint of heart.

Wonderful emo guttural screams echoed through my speakers on that unusually humid afternoon.

That song helped to clear my mind. To regain my attention and quick wit.

The vocalist screamed when I couldn’t, creating a melody my brain could aimlessly float along with. A song clearly intended for moshing, not reflection.

The song helped me for that day. Vigorous exercise helps me on other days. Talking to my therapist is just wonderful every week. While a bag of Hot Cheetos can work wonders as a guilty pleasure.

I find solace in the little unassuming goods that lift my spirits and calm the storm inside my heart.

I’d rather hurdle leaps across oceans though than constantly taking everything one step at a time. Barging in guns blazing as it were. But I can’t do that right now.

Too much has transpired to try and jump from opening doors in my psyche and dealing with trauma, to then wanting to be completely healed and moving on to the next phase of my life.

Realistically I will never be fully healed and I’m okay with that.

I really love the ultra-jaded, mostly-chill, unapologetic-artist, come-at-me-bro person I’ve morphed into. She’s pretty bad ass.

Most people will never be acquainted with her quiet storm; they would not be able to grasp the infinite complexity of nonconformity and enlightenment.

For my girls have blessed me immeasurably divine gifts that I don’t know could ever be repaid. A mothers guilt of that knowledge is hard to swallow.

Many more light years to go before I sleep, though.

And many more mountains to move.

Sails are set to hope~