Near two hours until I’m forty

But I look twenty

And I feel thirteen

Because life never caught up with me and often times I feel disassociated from what’s actually happening around me. I’m still reeling to catch up. Childhood memories creep in with flashbacks of young adulthood that I sometimes wish I never experienced yet it all makes me who I am.

My life, my thoughts (as dark as they are) my feelings (as low as they are) they all make me who I am and I am ever so happy to be original and me and no one else. Because in the grand scheme of things, aren’t we all just meant to be who we are? As much as we fight and want to be someone else, somewhere deep down, we know- it’s better to be me, and know the demons we struggle with, then take on the demons of someone else.

So happy birthday, to me, good job on surviving 40 years of life.

Addiction. Mental illness. Homelessness. Teen pregnancy. And yet, I’m still here, because I’m a survivor. And now I’m forty. And the hardest thing I’ve ever said, was me too. Yet I say it loud and proud, I’m still here!

Much love,

Norma Rrae.