Have you ever wondered how you're going to die? I'm sure you have, everyone does. Is it going to be a quick painless death? Am I going to suffer? Will it be sickness or old age? Perhaps a tragic accident? I have been thinking about this for awhile now, I dont mean in a suicidal kind of way (we off that), moreso in a reflective manner. I analyze my life and those in it, the things I've done and would like to do. Am I happy? I'd be lying if I said yes...I'm not. I spend too much time enveloped in negativity, negativity from myself and others. There are still too many things I would like to do in my life, too many experiences I would still like to enjoy, theres too much improvement to be made to who I am still.

Everything I've mentioned is all about me, now imagine the plans and the experiences I have in mind to share and go through with my family...but sometimes I can't help but shake that feeling that it will all end sooner then I would like it to. I'm plagued with very disturbing images, noises, smells and thoughts...I've lived through very tragic scenarios without actually having physically lived them. Very few people ever really understand this so I usually keep these things to myself. I was always told I have a very vivid imagination, ever since I was a child. Could there be more to it? I dont know. The older I've gotten the darker these thoughts have become. They scare the shit out of me sometimes. OK, most times. I think my biggest fear is that these reocurring images are a way of me foreseeing something that will happen...the thought of that alone makes the hair on my body stand on end.

Alot of times I've thought that maybe these fears and these thoughts are a result of the kind of childhood I had. I was 5 years old when I came to Canada with my mom. I was seperated from everyone and everything I knew without knowing why...to this day I can still see my grandmother standing on the other side of that thick glass wall as we were walking away from her. I kept looking back until I couldnt see her anymore. I remember asking my mom where my dad was and why he wasnt going with us...he wasn't there to see us off. He joined us here 6 months later. My parents both worked nights with my aunt and uncle (they sponsored us to come to Canada), we were living in the basement of their home. I used to be left alone in that cold basement while my parents went to work their asses off and wouldnt get back until the next morning. I would be left watching TV since my cousins would lock the basement door so I couldnt go upstairs, the youngest one out of them was 5 years older then me and they all found me annoying. I remember sitting there watching TV until the broadcast would end and that incessant beeping would start. Even then I wouldnt move from how my parents left me...I would be too scared.

I would keep my feet tucked in under my nightgown because I thought someone/something would grab them. I used to see shadows dancing around me and people, big and small, poking their heads out from around corners. I would be scared to even look beside me to see if in fact there was someone standing there in my peripheral. It happened several times that I would be too scared to move, so much so that I would pee myself and sit in it until I either a) mustered up enough courage to get up, change and go lay down on the bed or b) my parents got home the next morning. The nights I would get the courage to go to bed I would lay in the middle of the bed cocooned into a blanket with my eyes darting from side to side waiting to see hands or a face pop up from the edges of the bed. I would hear breathing coming from under my bed and at times could feel someone/something scratching under it. There were very few times that I would actually make it up those basement stairs to check if they had remembered to lock the door and I would find it open, so I would creep up to my youngest cousin's room and she would let me sleep with her.

I dont hold any resentment towards my parents for this for they were immigrants and we were staying with family rent free so they felt that this was their way to repay them for bringing us here and letting us stay in their home. My parents were exploited and depressed. Winters were very difficult, we moved into a bachelor eventually and then a one bedroom apartment. I would fall asleep to the sound of the freight trains passing right beside our building, it was soothing at times, only to be woken up by screaming and yelling. My parents arguing, objects being thrown around and me waking up yelling to my dad not to touch my mom...those are my childhood memories as a newcomer here to Canada and its that same fear I feel now as an adult with my own two kids when I see these taunting, disturbing images play out infront of me.

Labels: confession, depression, family, hurt, reflection, screams

I miss my home, my family. I miss where I'm from. Sitting on my grandmother's front porch and watching people pass by to run their errands but they still take the time to yell out a hello or good afternoon, hearing the the sound of the horse drawn carriages and wagons as they approach, seeing people carousel a bike to get from point A to point B. I miss the breeze that hits your face when you sit in the shade of a tree. You can sit anywhere and people will always make it a point to at least give you a nod of the head. People in my town are known as the 'Come Mangos' translation 'Mango Eaters'. Mango trees line the streets and there are fields where mangoes grow as far as the eye could see. I have very fond childhood memories of climbing those trees and swinging from branch to branch in conquest of the biggest juiciest mango I could find.

I miss where I'm from. I miss the cobblestone streets, the colonial church in the centre of town. You can see the volcanoe so clear from the street of the millionaires. Sometimes it decides to hide behind clouds but its majestic base is still there, like a reminder to all of the sleeping giant that may awaken at any given moment. No matter how long you're away from your birthplace, how long its been since all your senses have been awaken by all the sounds and smells from that little piece of heaven, it will always be Home. You will always have the sense of belonging and familiarity. I miss it so much it hurts sometimes. Would you like to see where I'm from? It's one of the most beautiful places on Earth, it's my Home. Look:

Labels: family, home, photos, reflection

So I'm laying here feeling like the biggest piece of shit for a mother. I'm always talking about how I feel like my kids are on loan to me and my biggest fear is that they will be taken away from me very suddenly but reflecting on how I treat them sometimes you would think they are more of an annoyance, inconvenience...especially my oldest.

I'm crying writing this right now...I love her so much...been through so much since the moment I found out I was going to have her. I need to apologize to my daughter for the way I act towards her sometimes and the way I speak to her...

I can't keep writing anymore...
Sent on the TELUS Mobility network with BlackBerry

Labels: family, reflection

My beautiful, healthy girls have to be number one on this list. Bitch and complain as much as i do about them they are my reason for being and very much so my reason for fighting. If it wasn't for them God knows where i would have life lead me.


My warm, cozy apartment. Always have to say thanks for the solid roof over my head. I work in a mission downtown where I'm surrounded by individuals that have no place to "go home" to. They literally walk around with their lives on their backs. I think we have a tendency of taking the four walls and roof that block out the wind, rain, snow and all other elements that are thrown at us (which here in Canada could be all of the ones listed in one day) for granted.

I have to give thanks for my health, physical and mental. I've been on the verge of deteriorating both at so many points of my life that sometimes its surprising I'm still as stable as I am.

This list can go on and on I suppose. We always tend to focus on all the negatives in our lives. All the 'what ifs?' and 'if only...'

I for one need to sit down and remember what I have and look at how blessed I am for having it. It shouldn't be something only done on a day completely dedicated to giving thanks, it should be done on a daily basis, at the start of each day. I'm sure if we all took a minute to do that it would give us a reason to get up every day, a reason to push on and strive forward.

Labels: family, home, reflection

Labels: blogging, family, rant, screams

i've had dog day afternoons, i've stumbled and fallen on my knees it seems like all my life. its time for change. time to make dreams happen

must reads.
the legends league.

the broken heel diaries.

her lil' black book.

the segment.

October 2008, November 2008, December 2008, April 2009, May 2009, June 2009, July 2009, August 2009, September 2009, October 2009, November 2009, December 2009, January 2010, February 2010, March 2010,

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