The trees are filled with memories

Of the feelings never told. It has been a while since I last blogged, and there are many reasons behind that. Lately I have been experiencing a slew of emotions that I can't quite comprehend. At one point in my life I was filled with a burst of happiness. A happiness that glowed so brightly the entire world could see it shining through. Overall, I believe that for those two years I was the best person I had ever been. I was finally being healthy, taking care of myself, and of course stimulating myself mentally. There was a pact that I had with myself to do all of the things that I loved and cherished the most. This included taking long bicycle rides on good ol' Shamrock, going out and exploring, and dreaming everything in vintage. I absolutely adored looking and dressing adorable everyday. I feel as though I need to sell or donate most of what I have and just start over. Just allocate a certain amount of my funds and spend a lexy day. A day to just revive the once glowing happy girl that I knew.

I believe that we all craft our lives the way in which we see fit. We can find beauty and choose to do what we adore. My biggest problem is I am constantly attempting to please others, that I forget what makes me the happiest. This causes my heart grief and I have realized I need to begin to stop being selfless and be selfish at times. I miss getting coffee and sitting all day reading articles and dabbling in knowledge. These days I feel exhausted for a reason, I am going through many emotions most of which continue to drag down my fragile little heart. 

This summer I believe that I need to make a list of all I would like to accomplish. One of the main things I hope to achieve is getting ahead of the game rather than falling behind. It is so easy in life to allow yourself to fall behind and then later blame the work or struggles with completing tasks on the tasks themselves. When we do this we are actually avoiding doing the work and making it even more challenging to get ahead. I intend on going back to enjoying my work and embracing that sense of accomplishment that I have from working hard. I also want to explore and discover more of Nebraska. Maybe even take a weekend trip with my wonderful boyfriend to Colorado and just enjoy being alive. Sometimes it takes little trips or little things to be reminded how beautiful the world truly is. 

A final thing that has slipped in the present is my writing. I can see the slow decline in my writing abilities as I continue to put off writing for my enjoyment and updating my blogs frequently. This is again much like putting off work, I have allowed the things I once enjoyed so to become chores. It seems as though everything has become a chore to me these days and it has pushed me over the edge. My mother would not want me to live my life this way and I do no intend to fall back into the state I once was in, when I was in high school. I am making a newfound pact from here on out that I must continue to progress in my life and search for that happiness I once achieved. Life is a learning process and we aren't always going to be comfortable or happy with our lives. What is important is to remember the times you were at your best and work to get back there. Do things that are enjoyable because life is short. 

<3 Alexis Zoe

The day a part of me died

The crisp blue lake glistening in the sunlight. People were out at the dog park walking dogs, the city was full of happiness. I stared out the enormous windows of Northwestern Memorial Hospital secretly hating the people below. They were all going about their lives, enjoying the beautiful day as my mom lay suffering and dying. They all smiled as I felt my heart being torn apart by arch nemesis, cancer. I could never understand why my mother feared her disease so, until I saw her during her final days. It wasn't until I had to hear her shout in pain for me to help her, until I watched her cry in pain and embarrassment, until I had to watch her unable to speak anymore. I had wished and hoped I could hear her yell my name again in pain. Was that selfish? According to one of my old co-workers I was being selfish wanting to keep her alive in pain, but why would I want to willingly let her die?

So I stared out the window, hating. Wishing somehow this was just one of my elaborate nightmares again. Trying to convince myself that this wasn't the end of the road for mom. That I was in some sick twisted Silent Hill game and I was going to get out of the town. I had to continue to hold back the tears around my mother and needed to get out of that room for a minute. I couldn't bare watching my mom suffering anymore, she had already suffered five years. Being out of the room wasn't much better. I felt guilty leaving her, but I just could not take it anymore. I hadn't slept much that entire half of the year. I worked 2 jobs (one of which was physical labor overnight) and was a full time master student. I was attempting to write and be productive while attempting to convince myself my mom's brain cancer was just a little set back. When she cried about being ugly having a port in her head and being bald again I told her she was beautiful. She knew she wasn't to others though, when you love someone they could never be ugly to you. My friends were a little put back when they saw my mom after her brain surgery and it was then I realized I was living a life that most people can't fathom. 

So the guilt continued as I stared out the window, crying, shivering, wishing I was less helpless. Wishing my entire life wasn't full of such helplessness. Maybe I wasn't the strong optimist I built myself up to be. Maybe just maybe I was convincing myself of something to keep me from turning insane over the years. As I entered again to see my mom lying there I felt pain trickling through me. This was reality I couldn't run and pretend anymore. I couldn't give myself hope, because there was no hope left. The pain did not just revolve around my own pain, but I also felt tremendous pain for my dad who would now have to be a widow. The most pain I felt was for my brother. I promised my mom before she died by her bedside that I would care for him. That I would look after him and call him like my mom died, but how could I live up to her? How could I ever give him the love of his mother? I couldn't. I was leaving for Nebraska. I always claimed to be selfless and in the biggest time of distress for my family I was being selfish and leaving. I made my mom cry in fear of me leaving and her losing her "best nurse". The guilt and pain was eating away at my insides. 

Those people down there, out those windows. I wondered if they knew the pain I knew. I wondered if they even knew what was important in life. So many people care so much about themselves. Was I one of those people? Would I ever recover from this? During the final prayer the Rabbi gave my mother took her final breath. She squeezed my brothers hand and looked at him one last time as I held her other hand. My mom said goodbye to us, but she didn't know how to. She asked people before she died how to say goodbye, not how will it feel to die. My mom was the most incredible woman I had ever met. She made everyone laugh and happy all the time. We were her life and she never wanted us to leave when most parent's can't wait to get the kids out of the house. 

On her last breath I fell. I was not able to hold my own body up anymore I just collapsed on her and held her. Her body grew cold and I didn't ever want to let go. The Rabbi went to get someone, but I didn't want him to get anyone. I just wanted to hold her. I just wanted to tell her I loved her as many times as I could. I did not want to accept she was gone. When we had to actually leave the hospital I almost didn't want to. She was still here we had to take her home. Her friends from the hospital came in and said they were sorry and how much of an impact she had on them. The doorman cried for my mother, a woman he had gotten to know over the past five years. So many people had loved her. As we walked downstairs and got outside we felt what a beautiful day it was. Chicago had been gloomy and horrid the past few days. We had gotten outside after being trapped in a hospital for 3 days on a cancer ward full of dying, suffering people. We had not bathed or eaten, but when we got outside we took in the fresh air. It was beautiful on the day my mom died and I like to think that was because g-d was happy to have her come to him. We felt as though we were in some sick dream walking to the car. My body felt lifeless as I trudged down the block to the parking garage. I don't even remember getting home or what we did that day. 

Her wake, funeral, the rest was all a giant blur. The psychologist told us that in order to know she was dead in our minds we had to see the burial. We had to understand that she was dead, and that we would be delusional and have trouble remembering. Delusional? Confused? I thought I heard my moms voice when she died. I waited for her to call me. I listened to voicemails to pretend that she was still here. I was delusional, but could you play me? I remember being asked when I'd go back to work, when I wanted to go out for a drink, when I was going to finish my thesis. All things that did not seem important to me anymore. All things I wanted to to get away from. I chose to go to Nebraska and my friend there gave me the best time I could have had after my mom's death. It helped me forget for a second the pain. The torture I had just witnessed, and even though I was able to be there with my mom I'm not sure it was healthy for me to see so much suffering. My mom had seen the same suffering, but in her 40's. She had us, a husband, stability, a life. I was 22, had no children to keep me occupied, no husband let alone boyfriend, and no stability.  

How could I get married without having my mom by my side? I asked my sister to help me plan my wedding someday, because my mom wouldn't be there. She agreed and hugged me. I remembered how my mom had asked her friends if she should buy me something for my baby shower someday, because she wouldn't be there. We all told her not to talk like that, and with my sisters baby shower I felt pain. I was so happy for my sister and seeing all the people there. I even got to play an important role of taking notes on who got her what, but I couldn't help but wish that my mom could be at my shower someday. Who would be the happiest person to see my baby now? No one, my mom would have been the greatest grandmother in the entire world. I am expected to move on with my life, but all those pivotal times in a girls life where mom is meant to play a major role she won't be there. I will be alone. 

Alone. Always alone. Now more alone then ever without her. Without her constant reminders on how beautiful I am. Without her telling me what an incredible writer/actress I was. I have lost motivation to write blogs recently, and write for myself. My expression is shown through writing. It is how I cope with all of life's situations and make sense of my overactive brain activity. It was my pleasure in life, and when my mom died I realized no one would read my blogs. No one would talk about specific sections that they enjoyed. Why write? Why express myself when no one wanted to hear my expression? Why attempt to make sense of the bad, when I learned that often you can't make sense of it? There is no hope in some situations, no matter what you do. Death is inevitable we can all be certain that we will experience it someday, but why me why now? I had already had a difficult life, losing our house we grew up in, having to work so much, struggling to write about the very disease which was now killing my mother. How was I going to live a full life and be happy now?

Mom, I can't write anymore about my feelings or myself I want to write to you again. My heart is broken, and people will never understand my pain. Losing you was the hardest thing in my life, and I know you don't think that I would miss you but I do. Everyday I miss you in some way. Some days are better than others, but there are times I just wish I could call you so you could make me smile again. When I have stress there isn't anyone there to help me like you did. No one cares as much as you did period. You taught me how to be selfless. You didn't have to suffer and fight like you did, but I know you did it so spare us this pain for a few years if you could. How did you do it mom? How were you so strong? I could never be as strong as you and you said you weren't sure what was worse, having to be the living who lives without the dead, or having to be dead. Mom, living is worse. We have to live everyday without your constant support and comfort. We have to accept we will never hug you again or kiss you. We have to re-live this pain every year on april 4th knowing that was the day you left us. Mom I love you I just want to break down in your arms right now, but I have to break down alone. I have to write this blog hoping that maybe you are reading it somewhere. That my writing has more purpose than just me venting to myself about you. I love you mom, and I miss you everyday. Rest in peace :(

You know I dreamed about you for 29 years before I saw you

I missed you for 29 years.

It's been practically 29 years since I last felt compelled to write anything. To be honest, I feel as though I have lost my writing capabilities. I once was able to move and create such hope in my blogs, but lately I'm afraid I have lost my motivation and inspiration for personal reflection. Most of my time now is spent inside my head, rather than feeling a need to externalize. The externalization process looks much like tears dripping endlessly, a broken faucet beyond repair. Perhaps I am beyond repair.

When I was about 13 years old I decided that my life would be committed to helping others feel better. It began when I went online to search for those who felt alone, lost, and as helpless as I did during my years of adolescence. In an attempt to convince myself that many had to deal with the issues that I was and that I was not alone I began to move into inspiration and stories of hope. I actually convinced myself that the bad was a positive thing, when in reality the bad is not always a positive thing. When I felt sorry for any bad in my life I began to write, motivate, and teach people how amazing the darkness actually was. I began to embrace it and my life became just that, dark. Much like the tunnel in Silent Hill 4 I was surrounded by darkness and at the very end was a glimmer of light which represented by hope.

Hope, the term is used in a variety of contexts typically encircled by some sort of traumatic or horrid event. At times hope can represent just that, we have high hopes for the future, for the unknown. We want to believe that our identities are embedded in this notion of hope. Hope, however is a falsified and does not project reality. It is a way of coping with reality, accepting that there is nothing you can do to combat the negative. The only thing that you are capable of is thinking about the way you wish things would be. Some things are irreversible. My mother's death is irreversible, and that was when I began accepting that there is no hope, and that hope can not make things better.

What can make things better then? If hope is just this false concept that instills fake projections of our future what can replace it to make things better? My answer to this is reality. Reality may seem bleak and sad, but it's what is actually happening. It is the truth. The sooner you accept the truth and reality for it is the sooner you can move on and accept that things are happening the way they are. The sooner you can find ways to making you happy instead of holding onto something that will most likely never happen. My mom was a realist and I lived in the clouds. I could never understand why she seemed so negative and not hopeful, but now that she is gone I have begun to see that we can create a place that builds our hopes up so much, that when things do hit the fan the fall is greater. I have fallen from a pedestal higher than the heavens back down to Earth and I am learning that reality isn't so bad. Being upset, or accepting that you have been dealt a bad hand is not something that should be frowned down upon, because it is real.

Life is not always going to be perfect. People will upset you and do things to hurt you. You will be disappointed at least once a week in something that you find distasteful. There are no guarantees or happy endings unless you go out there and you make a happy ending for yourself. There will be bumps in the road and you may feel as though you will never get there, but those are a normal part of becoming who you are meant to be. Hope doesn't have to drive your motivation to get there, but the sheer fact that you desire this happiness for yourself. That is how you will get there. I'm working on getting there after my large fall. I was living on a cloud where I viewed everything as beautiful and simple, but things are not this way. Living is hard and we are truly amazing creatures for surviving so well and finding joy in so many things.



Sincerely,
Alexis Zoe

The world of a life-long student

I don't know whether watching endless amounts of the notebook clips to sappy love songs has compelled me to write this blog at 1:23 A.M. when I have to be up by 6 A.M. to teach tomorrow, or if it is the vast amount of work that has led me to pure insanity which has ultimately led me to use my writing as my venting tool. All I know is it's fall and I am happy.These days I seem to rely on people rather than my own self reflection to heal though I suppose this is part of the natural grieving process. Perhaps years of relying solely on my writing to cure my internal pains and troubles has led me to melt down weekly. At times I wonder if I am being abnormal, but then I remember what my two sessions with a therapist were like. As I entered the room I found myself analyzing her.

"The whole purpose of seeing someone is so that you can vent. Do not analyze yourself Alexis. Quit. It." I found my mind battling with itself to sit still and be quiet for once in it's overactive life.

The therapist sat analyzing what I communicated to her. This was all too familiar to me, the process of analysis.

"You are extremely hard on yourself. Do you realize that most people who have went through all you have would not be getting out of bed right now? You continue to survive you are the true definition of what that means. You have spent the last year of your life working two jobs, going full time for your M.A., writing a thesis, and watching your mom pass away in pain. You are a survivor." The therapist said encouraging me.

Like I hadn't gotten the comment too hard on yourself. As if I had no idea the struggles I faced, yet I failed to see how most people would fall down and not get back up. I simply refuse to ever be knocked down, but some days I feel knocked down. My mother was my everything. I suppose I stopped writing blogs because my mother was my main target audience. Every blog I wrote she'd smile and tell me what a wonderful writer I was. My mother saying this spoke volumes, because she was my greatest critic. What perhaps makes my experience that much more difficult is my interest area in research. I find that I have become one of the participants in the countless studies I have read. I have become a part of the patterns, and though I attempt to refuse my new identity role I can't escape it.

I will never have my mother at my wedding, thus my wedding has become meaningless to me. I fit typical gender roles as a child, always dreaming of prince charming. At seven I was convinced I would someday marry my hot, blonde, neighbor who's sisters babysat us. When he'd come over I'd put on my best dress up cloths, plastic high heels, and beg my mother to permit me to wear make up. Needless to say I was a knock out to this much older and mature male who I deemed my future husband. As I grew up I found myself searching consistently for prince charming only to be left heartbroken, abandoned, and dealing with my mother's death alone. My aspirations for prince charming diminished with failed relationships, reading journal articles, and coming to understand that there was no such thing as prince charming. That love songs and movies were fantasies to feed the mind with false hope.

The more I think about love, life, loss, and happiness I find that it is ultimately up to you to define these things to what you hold true. I may never have prince charming, but that isn't what is important. What do I desire? I believe that death of someone so amazing and dear to my heart has taught me what I really do want out of life. I want my own personal success, but I also want someone who is just as proud of me as my mother was. No one will ever love me or think as highly of me as my own mother, but I know that out there someone will be proud of me. Watching the notebook clips made me come to a new realization. I don't want extravagant. I don't want to be spoiled. I want someone to enjoy the simple things in life with. I want to watch sunsets, go to pumpkin patches, take long drives, have little flowers picked from outside laying on my bed in the morning after a night of cuddling and conversing about life, and I want to feel happy just doing whatever. It isn't about what you have, it is about who you have. I was blessed enough to have someone who loved me with everything they were for 22 years of my life. I still have several people alive who care about me and who consistently sacrifice for me. My dad works his butt off to show us that he will provide and do anything he can. I have a brother who is the strongest kid I know who reminds me so much of my mom's kind heart. I have the love of so many people and for that I'm eternally grateful.

Life isn't intended to be perfect. We are imperfect and we all must suffer turmoil at some point in our lives. I just want to remind everyone of my love for them and that you don't have to have a picture perfect life for it to be wonderful. I live with a smile on my face and constantly fighting past the struggles, because that is what my mom would do and did. She fought a battle for 5 years, hardly ever complaining with courage and I hope to model her so that I can keep her memory alive and let the world see what a tremendous mentor and best friend I had. With tears in my eyes I finish this blog and hope to remind you all to take a moment to step back and take a deep breath of fresh air and remember how beautiful the simple things are.

<3
Alexis Zoe

If I fall would you pick me up?

I feel a though I have needed a trip down memory lane recently and I can't quite comprehend this desire to tap into my past, but I'm glad that I have. It's incredible how at certain points in life people feel as though they will never survive. They are unable to see their future, but so desperately wish to know where they will end up. As for myself, I seemed to be a motivated and willing young woman who wanted nothing more than to understand where I would be beyond the undergraduate level. Would I go to law school and make my mother the happiest woman in the world? Would I be in graduate school. I suppose one of my paths did continue on and my life hasn't shifted gears all that much. How ever will I survive? Will I find the man of my dreams? Will I be thin and beautiful.

I have transformed. This transformation has taken years from the initial transformations into my teenage years. My life has changed tremendously, but I am still following that path I set out for. I still am motivated to get through my studies and this is something I have successfully been able to hold onto throughout the years. My life once was driven by falling in love, how thin I could become, and being successful. Sometimes it takes something as tragic as death to truly comprehend what is important within ones own life. I have discovered where true happiness lies. It doesn't exist within love and affection from men, or being thin and beautiful, and it certainty does not exist within our educational systems. What creates ultimate happiness? Accepting your life for what it is. Accepting that things are not going to be perfect and that even those who appear to be perfect are imperfect. True happiness comes from satisfaction in the self and the way in which you chose to live your life.

I will forever be faulty. There will never be a prince charming, because prince charming does not exist. The right person for me will come in due time, but for now I have accepted that men are men. They can be good hearted and wonderful, but they have their own motivations and expectations for their happiness. A woman can not anticipate a male to give her everything or treat her like a princess because they are not princes. I am not at thin as I was and there it would not be right to deny that I am unhappy with my body. Each day I look at myself I am disgusted by what I have become, but I have also not done as much work as I once did to achieve the self image I desired. I have truly become a reflection of the term "letting yourself go." I can sit here and blame all the tragedy for it, but in essence I have the ability to change what I have allowed to happen to my body. Will I obsess or be unhealthy to achieve what I believe the world finds beautiful? Not at all. I need to take care of my body and be healthy. Fat is not healthy, but doing extreme things in order to achieve desired weight loss is worse. Is school the only lover I shall ever know? Will education dictate the kind of person I am? Not in the least. School is my way of explaining phenomenon, which I am unable to clearly understand. I am constantly thinking in hopes to make sense of the world and school allows me to do this. I find that most people I have encountered do not wish to speak of such things, thus I have found a medium where I can allow my mind to be free and liberated.

I still find beauty in the simple things, much like my past self did. I still wish to become a better person and continue to strive to do so much more than what is expected of me. Why? Because my happiness lies in accomplishing new challenges that are thrown at me. I strive for more than just settling and wish to do all which my heart desires. I don't need to be perfect to achieve these things. I don't even need someone by my side, but I'm afraid that though I claim I do not need people I do. I have learned that it is okay to admit that you need people in your life it is when you rely on them for your happiness that issues arise. Overall, I am satisfied with my life and intend to get back to where I once was. I know that these things take time and that as humans we must learn the rule of patience. For patience will enable us to accomplish all as long as we are willing to give up the time to get there.

<3
Alexis Zoe

Will you always Remember?

Dearest friend,

Will you never fail to remember my name? Will you always keep me in  your mind when we reach points of life that seem bleak? I will take your hand and stand by your side always. Nothing can match the tremendous amount of love I have for you. If it is any consolation please just remember that you are not alone. You are never alone.

The epitome of reflection. Notes from old friends, memories that seem to resemble nothing but a shattered mirror. Our pasts become fragments, which we recreate the way we see them. Our minds are powerful tools, which enable us to convince ourselves that something happened in a particular way, which may not be at all accurate to actual history. Just as we attempt to put our shattered mirrors back together, history does in the same fashion. Does anyone really know what happens? Does anyone really understand where we are in our own lives?

I was awoken this morning by a storm. When I awoke I looked outside to see a world encased in gray. Black nor white existed and the only light produced was the lightening. I placed my hand on the glass door and felt a tear trickle down my eye. When it rained I always thought the angels cried. It was my crafty way of explaining why rain existed, but when I looked outside I wondered if my mom was crying for me. This sounds quite depressing, but it is not. I was able to talk yesterday about my feelings and I have a new found knowledge of what is actually going inside my mind.

I'm a thinker, an analyst. I find pleasure in attempting to predict the future when I have come to realize we can't really predict anything, nor can we explain anything. I have to say goodbye and let go. As much as that pains me I can't hold onto the hope that my mom will come back or give me a sign, because she won't. My future is not able to be predicted, because anything can happen. I can die tomorrow, lose my friends, or find out that I just won a bunch of hello kitty stuff. Life can be both positive in negative in nature, but it isn't about what life throws at you it is being able to be a survivor. The person I spoke with told me that I was a survivor that despite the hardship I was on my feet, determined to push forward.

I had been hard on myself these past few months questioning my intelligence, questioning whether or not I was capable of doing much of anything. I gave myself a death sentence before my own death. I had done what I had so often discouraged before and just lived to be alive. There was no purpose, no meaning, no motivation to do much of anything. I had become something I hardly recognized. I was no longer the woman that I aspired to become and I had become lost in the abyss of simply living. I had forgotten what had once made me happy, but I am slowly getting back to who I once was and am feeling as though motivation is starting to come back. I am a woman who never gives up in the face of defeat, and though I have had some humps in the road I got over them and still remain standing.

It's time to be the person I aspire and encourage myself to be. We all live our lives the way we see suiting. I want to help people and use my writing to do just that. My writing has enabled me to get very far in life, and when I was alone I had my blogs and written form to help get me through the troubling times. My mom was able to see the person I was through my blogging and writing. She saw the heart and soul I had. I'm not a perfect person. I don't always say things that are agreeable to people, but I try to live my life as kindly as possible. I do not have the intention of hurting others, nor do I wish to be something I am not. I will speak my mind, but I will not change for someone. Accepting who you are is the biggest struggle to get over in life, but it is vital to always be yourself and never allow that to change.

My memories are just projections of who I was, but do not define who I am. I am Alexis Waters. I am going for my PhD. I place high value on helping others, because I feel too often we go through problems alone. The people in my life I'd do anything for and I treat well. I wish I could have done more for my mom. I hope that the world will be a better place in time, because I believe people are inherently good. I'm a nerd who loves spiderman, because Stan Lee's comics have taught me so much about myself and how to live with integrity. That is all I love you all.

<3
Alexis Zoe

I hope you dance.

That which once was beautiful to me seems to have turned into a black abyss. The waves crash towards me and as each hits I feel a pain strike my heart. The radiant glow my heart once produced slowly dulls, causing my mind to slowly evaporate. The world no longer becomes full of questions that my mind so furiously tries to answer, but becomes full of painstakingly unwillingness to do much of anything.

"It appears," I begin muttering to myself "as though I have lost more than I initially thought."

I stand walking towards the darkness as cold consumes my body. The cold usually bothers me, but now I feel as though my world is cold and almost have grown a new immunity to it. I remember the waves of Lake Michigan the day my Mother passed away. Lake Michigan and Chicago seem so much more horrific to me now, but when I try to blame Chicago for producing these thoughts of despair I remember the times I have outside of Chicago. Something as simple as pushing a cart brings me back to chemotherapy sessions, where I am pushing my darling Mother in her wheel chair. She smiles at me, despite my horrendous ability to steer anything. She jokes with me telling me I'm an awful driver in a cute little tone. Her laughter keeps my heart glowing and even during times of darkness my Mother keeps a light going within me.

My mom was half of my heart and the reason that I entitled this blog I hope you dance is because that was her wish for me. My Mother only wanted the best for both my brother and I. I found myself attempting to get my head screwed back on this week. It seemed that without my muse for writing it was difficult, but as I progressed my mind slowly transformed back into the mind I once had. The very same mind that often received praise of brilliance and inspiration. My mother was not afraid to tell me my flaws or strengths and reading my writing was something she thoroughly enjoyed. In fact, she was probably the only one to read every single one of these blogs and tell me how beautifully written it was and what an impressive young woman. When I felt as though I had to lay down and quit I listened to I hope you dance and cried for my mom. I felt her love and I know she heard me. I can't if she could see me the pain she would feel. My Mother wanted nothing but our happiness and this week has been a struggle full of sickness and panic attacks.

Truth is I'm not brilliant, inspirational, or even an impressive young lady. I'm just me and though I have these vast amount of thoughts it does not alienate me from others. I write because it helps me make sense of what I find to be distasteful in the world. My words are intended to mend others hearts who experience such terrifying occurrences that should cease to exist.  I know what it feels like to be alone and it is perhaps the most frightening experience. Being alone. Alone. This past year really I've felt quite alone as if I've contracted some disease. The infection spreads and it seems the more the disease progresses the more bad news I receive. I have accepted that I have very few who actually care about my well being, but it does not prevent me from wishing I could help others. I will continue to use my words to help and if that's inspiration I feel overwhelming amounts of joy.

My Mother battled so hard and each time I thought of laying down and giving up I thought of what my Mother did for me. People have asked me how I've managed to stay so strong and I will admit I have had breakdowns I'm normal and am in no way an impressive young lady. I have some very wonderful people in my life and I have an angel watching me everyday. I pray to see her again and want to live on to show the world what kind of woman I am. I have my mother to thank for transforming me into the woman that I am. She rescued me when I was at my lowest and loved me no matter what mistakes I made. I was perfect. I will never be perfect to anyone again. I will never be number one to anyone. My mom struggled for my brother and I. No one will do what she did. No one will sit up with me all night when I'm sick and crying. No one will make me feel as though I have no flaws. No one will be prouder.

My message to you all, when you feel alone remember there is someone who loves you like this. You may not always feel this love, but trust me when it is gone you will realize it existed. Survival and getting through hardship is dependent on how you choose to perceive your experience. You control your mental well being and when it feels hard remember there are people who struggle everyday worse than yourself. They would do anything to be in the position that you are. We are all very lucky, each person I've met in my life is doing fairly well for themselves and this should be satisfying in itself. I have accepted that even if things do not go according to plan I will get through and find a way. My mom taught me to not be a quitter and that is not who I am in her memory I will continue to be the unstoppable force I once was. I will mend hearts, I will be the sweetheart, and I will treat others with nothing but love. No one should be alone.

<3
Alexis Zoe