Any arbitrary turn along the way, I would be elsewhere. I would be different.

They made the train tracks, through the steepest part of the Alps, before there was a train that could make the journey. They built them anyway. They knew, one day the train would come.

I have never felt as though the world “owed” me a thing. “The victim,” isn’t the name I wish to be bestowed. The trauma, I’ve endured. I’ve survived, were the sort, that under normal circumstances. A “normal” person, would’ve met their maker. There are millions that endure far more than I have. But, comparing, assuming, and speculating. An individual’s personal trials, to yours. It is apples to oranges. I’m not, “normal” by society’s standards. I do, and always have. Marched to the beat of my own drummer.

My life preserver, my defibrillator. My real-life Yoda, Explained it beautifully. People, most “normal” people, don’t understand me. And she helped me see, that’s OK. I didn’t understand me, I until recently, was a chameleon, trying to blend, fit in, be “normal.” I was a puppet, my actions were scripted, my vocal cords, like, “Fargo.” My father’s dog severed. I was dubbed. A puppet, my bondage was weary, very Dysfunctional, and unraveling. I have been. Punished, severely for noncompliance. And in my darkest hour, I was, again, reduced to groveling, begging……. Again.

In that moment I received. The most powerful, life-affirming, motivational

speech. His last contribution, to the only life I had known. His last diatribe, and scolding.

My life’s sentence and puppet show’s final curtain, came to end, and in turn, I saved my life.

It had been beaten into me while being told, and I truly believed to my core.

I was a liability, my son disappeared because of the situation I created, at age 13. I got as close to normal as I was capable. I was unfit. A hazard and stupid. My prison, was being his daughter. At the most terrifying time in my life, I was, fearless and brave enough to, “jump ship.” And I have, in the last 30 months, been reborn.

I’m sure to catch some grief for the following,

I saved my life, I brought myself back to life, and I am profoundly grateful. My

Modern insight. Helped me see I could/can do anything I put my mind to.

My contribution to my life was profound, angels gave me The bamboo and string, to make my fishing pole. When it was time, I was given the opportunity to make the hook.

I learned to fish, the hard way.

From scratch. I made huge time-consuming mistakes, but eventually, I figured it out.

Although far less than before. 

More, consumption of time passed. I was Frustrated, but giving up wasn’t an option. I was blessed, An unlikely angel “blue” became part of my journey. And on August 27th, 2018. I secured my hook, my fishing pole complete. I was finally ready. To catch my fish.

This journey, my journey. It has been painful, torturous, life-affirming, and I felt every single emotion. I will offer this advice, the only thing I know to be irrevocable in fact.

There’s no pill, vaccine, booze, or drug. No Band-Aids for grief. I did the work, I took this opportunity to get well. For the first time in my entire life, I can authentically say,

“I’m not a prisoner. OCD isn’t the boss of me anymore.”. I am no longer his daughter, In my heart, I will always be a daughter, sister, godmother, niece, magic doctor, “EE”(aunt) granddaughter in spirit, outwardly I’m an artist, writer, mental health advocate, as graceful as a crackhead on ice skates trying to pick up her lighter, a tortured mother who will never stop. No longer looking but seeing my future in front of me. And I am not afraid of anyone, I’ve freed myself.

Whatever doesn’t kill me, had better start running.