So I was being a boss, listening to Kid Cudi uncensored because I was rollin like a G in my van with no baby ears in the back seat.
And I heard a lyric that struck me it goes: "I tried to think of myself as a sacrifice, to just to show the kids they ain't the only ones up at night" (in the next lyric he talks about his pee pee being sucked so be warned if you google that, don't want to be held responsible for wrecking your baby ears, and by pee pee I mean cock)
And then a ninja BOMB exploded in my brain and I thought OMG I MUST WRITE ABOUT THIS. (No not the pee pee sucking part, you sicko)
Here is how it starts: I was told a few times that I am an inspiration. I know, I know. My life of servitude to 5 children and still finding the time to read a book, write on this here blog, and paint my nails gives me like, a Jane Goodall runner up sash or some shit.
I am just like you.
And if you think I am not, or just think I am full of myself, let me tell you a story of how I became Humble.
Two years ago. My life was SHIIIIIIIIIIIT.
I won't go into exact details, to protect my kids and my sanity should someone be blabbing about it the next time I see them in real life, but lets just say the situation I was in was fucked UP.
And even worse, I couldn't seem to get out of it. It was like the same day every day, going through the same motions, but with more bad situations piling up until I couldn't breathe any more. Literally, I couldn't breathe. I had been suffering from what I thought was "I am dying, my throat is closing and I am dying" but really turned out to be major anxiety attacks. The kind that you know, can't fucking breathe through when they are happening.
Picture that for a second.
Now imagine that I had 4 kids with me when these would happen out of no where.
It was the ultimate rock bottom place that I was in, the kind of rock bottom that comes from the inside of your heart and soul and makes its way to your flesh and bones. It affected my every move. My every conversation. My brain. The way my eyes perceived things.
And I wanted it to stop.
I ended up in a hospital in a daze. I still can't recall the exact events before the hospital. I remember crying on a gurney, explaining that I was not suicidal and that I still couldn't breathe. Later, I was taken to rehab. Apparently, you can go even if you are not addicted to anything, you can go if you are just freaking the fuck out. Good to know.
When I came home after living with my parents for a bit in order to help me get back on track with meds and therapies, I came across something that years of watching Oprah never taught me. Or maybe she did except I wasn't paying attention because I was busy folding clothes.
I loved it so much I wrote it on my wall:
And just like that. My life changed.
It took me time to realize that I couldn't change everything over night, but I could accept that. What I could no longer accept was that I wasn't taking steps to make it at least gravitate towards the direction of change.
Where did I want to go in life?
Who did I want to be?
What were like, my goals?
Now what the fuck do I have to do to get there?
Okay, can't do all of that in a week, what can I do today?
How bout a smile?
Okay, I can do that.
And that's how it began. I realized I didn't have a lot to work with. But I did have myself, and frankly, that's enough to start with.
It all started with a smile. MY SMILE. Not a smile someone else gave me, not a smile I fake, a real one. Try it, you'll like it.
Take THAT duck face!
And in my method of full disclosure of fantastical honesty, one of the things I most wanted to achieve was to help someone ANYONE find their smile. You know, find their little sumtin sumtin, to feel happy about. JUST ONE PERSON. That was my goal.
And then, I met you. YOU.