Some days my feelings sit quietly in the background, like a low hum I can ignore if I stay busy enough. Other days, my feelings are louder—demanding to be heard, refusing to be brushed aside. This is one of those days where I decided to stop pushing them down and let them speak.

I don’t always have the right words for how I feel. Sometimes it’s sadness because of what I have been through in life, or heaviness because I do not for the life of me understand the pain I have endured. It settles in my chest like a sickness.  Other times it’s exhaustion—not just physical, but emotional. The kind that comes from carrying too much for too long without setting it down. And I stay in bed for days.

I’ve learned that pretending I’m fine doesn’t actually make me fine. It just delays the moment when everything spills over. Writing helps me slow that spill. It gives my feelings a place to land instead of letting them swirl endlessly in my head.

There’s also guilt mixed in sometimes. Guilt for feeling overwhelmed when others have it worse. Guilt for needing rest. Guilt for not being stronger, more positive, more put together. But I’m starting to realize that feelings don’t need permission. They just are. Ignoring them doesn’t make me stronger—it makes me quieter about my own needs.

I’m trying to be more honest with myself. To admit when I’m tired. To acknowledge when something hurts instead of laughing it off. To understand that growth doesn’t always look like progress—it sometimes looks like pausing, reflecting, and giving myself grace and space.

This blog isn’t about having answers. It’s about being real. If you’re reading this and you feel the same weight, the same confusion, the same ache you can’t quite explain—know that you’re not alone. Your feelings matter, even when they’re messy or inconvenient.

Today, I’m choosing to listen to mine.

Sundays with Aunt Dorothy

January 12, 2026

Sundays in the 70s and 80s were truly special, all thanks to my Aunt Dorothy. My brother and I were fortunate to experience church in a way that felt meaningful and exciting, and it was all because of her. She not only taught Sunday School but made it such an enjoyable experience that we always looked forward to it. I especially loved listening to her share stories from the Bible. Her voice brought those stories to life, and it was always followed by fun coloring activities that made the lessons even more engaging. Then, after Sunday School, we’d head to the main church service. One vivid memory I have is of Sister Cantrell standing up during the service with her arms raised high, speaking passionately in a language I didn’t understand at the time. As a child, it scared me a little, but as I grew older, I learned that it was called speaking in tongues, something deeply spiritual and meaningful for her. My cousin Lisa, who was five years older than us, was a constant presence during these Sundays. She always came to church with us, and I looked up to her so much. I don’t recall seeing my other cousin, Mike, at church as often. He was about ten years older than us and probably spent most of his time sitting with his own friends. Still, I have this distinct memory of seeing him holding his Bible, which left an impression on me. Aunt Dorothy had a wonderful way of making church days feel extra special. She had a little tradition—she’d promise us a treat if we behaved well during the service. That treat was an Icee (a frozen drink) on the way home, and because it was such a rare and exciting treat for us, we always tried to be on our very best behavior. Aunt Dorothy would give each of us 10 cents, trusting Lisa to take us inside to get the Icees. Holding that cold, sweet treat in my hands always felt like such a thrill. On the drive home, Lisa would sometimes tease us with her playful humor, saying that if we stayed really quiet in the car, Aunt Dorothy might forget we were there and accidentally take us home with her. We even played along, hiding on the back floorboard and giggling uncontrollably at the thought. Most of the time, Aunt Dorothy did let us go home with her, which felt like such a treat on its own. Either she’d drop us off later in the day, or Mom would come by to pick us up. Those Sundays were always so full of warmth, fun, and cherished memories that have stayed with me ever since.

A Short Lived Village

When I was a little girl, I vividly remember this one particular time when my twin brother and I could not wait to go outside. We had laid in bed together talking about a plan to build us a little village town. So, we  eagerly head outside right after breakfast to play with his favorite toy cars and trucks. Most of the time, we constructed our little village towns in the sandbox, carefully carving out roads, a lake and buildings within the gritty sand under the hot sunny days. But one day, we had this creative idea to take a different approach and build our very own village in a shady spot in an unused flower bed that sat quietly by the side of the front porch. Together, we collected large rocks, we took our red wagon down behind the house near the barn and loaded up some rocks just what we thought we needed and headed back to our shady spot near the front porch of the side of the what farm house. We ran inside to get an old rag to cleaned off the rocks and grabbed our supplies so we could paint windows and doors on them, and transformed these simple stones into charming little houses and general stores for our imaginary citizens. We dug out narrow trenches to serve as creeks, broke sticks into small pieces to mimic the look of an old creaky bridge for the cars and trucks to go over and, of course, poured water into the trenches—because, after all, a dried-up creek simply wouldn’t do. We snapped off little twigs of greenery to serve as bushes and trees, skillfully crafted winding roads, and worked together to bring this miniature town of ours vividly to life. It became our own magical little world. We spent the entire day there, completely immersed in our creation, stopping only for quick breaks before hurrying back to dive into the adventure once more. But then, as if nature had its own plans, one fateful day, a heavy rain came—a relentless downpour so strong that it washed away all of our hard work. It rained all that day. I remember us standing on the porch and watched as it flooded our little town, knocking down the greenery and washing away our bridges we had build in one fell swoop. I can still clearly recall how heartbroken we felt, watching helplessly as the little village we had poured so much love into slowly disappeared before our eyes.

Christmas Eve 2025

This morning I received a wonderful phone call from my daughter. It is always such a delight and a joy to have a chat with her, catching up on her life and hearing her voice. Thank goodness for WIFI and Facebook, as they made it possible for her to get through to me without any trouble. It was a relaxing day as I pondered about rebranding my online shop. I made some notes and put it aside for later and decided to watch a little tv. Later, my oldest son reached out to me and asked if I would like to come over to bake cookies with Greylon to leave out for Santa. How exciting and heartwarming! I just couldn't turn down such a lovely invitation. We had so much fun together, laughing and bonding while making snowmen, candy canes, and festive Christmas tree cookies. 

When Darkness Moves In

Dec, 22,2025

When darkness moves in it can happen suddenly. Many things can trigger it. Today for me it is having my phone disconnected because I didn't have enough money to pay the whole bill. My next pay day is 4 days away. But without my phone I cannot work. I need my phone to log in and out of the apps we use. I have tried and tried to climb out of this financial burden to no avail. I am so tired. The pushing forward has just caught up with me. I have found no help through any programs for a woman my age in Carrollton, GA. I have lost so much in this life time I am tired. All the hurt, failed relationships, betrayals, being broke... I have lost my home, car, sold all my furniture and jewelry and anything of value. I am tired. No more pain I can take. I am tired. 

I think of all those I love and wish them many years of happiness. But I am tired. And if my spirit lives on I will be nearby visiting those that matter the most to me. I have so much love to give but I have never found the right person to give it all to or the right person that would truly appreciate it. Just know I am at peace and I am happy and I am watching. I am so tired. I am so tired.

Another Day - I'm still here

Dec,23, 2025

Next day, I slept straight through the night and well into the day. I finally woke up around noon, made myself a cup of coffee, indulged in some Christmas candy and a slice of homemade pound cake my friend Dee had baked. Then, after taking another sleeping pill, I went right back to bed. I feel stuck and drained, just total self pity. While lying there, lost in thought, I realized how disconnected I had become from everything around me. The days blurred together, and I felt like a shadow of myself — isolated and weighed down by an invisible heaviness. It made me think about the importance of reaching out when we feel lost, whether it's talking to a close friend, seeking guidance, or just stepping outside for fresh air to reconnect with the world. Sometimes, the smallest actions can be the first step toward feeling alive again. I am asking for prayer because I am so tired. I did open up to a friend. She is always so calm with me and talks me through whatever I am going through. I am beginning to see light again. slowly.... Thank you Kimberly. I love you.

New Year 2026

01/03/2026

When I wrote the above I was so ready to give up. I took a few more sleeping pills that night than I should have and I prayed, "God, you know my pain and all the suffering I have been through, If it is your will, please let me fall into a deep sleep and not wake. For I am tired and cannot take anymore pain or any more of life's hiccups. Amen" and I went to sleep. 

"Another Day - I'm still here" tells you about the day after. In the days that followed, I found myself praying often. I spent that time reflecting, resting, crying, praying even more, writing, and planning. I decided to take a few much-needed days off. Unfortunately, during that break, I experienced a fibromyalgia flare-up. On one of those days, I decided to lie down for an afternoon nap. Earlier that morning, I had watched a little TV but quickly turned it off, tidied up the breakfast dishes, and went to rest. As I drifted off, I was startled awake by voices. Realizing the TV had somehow turned back on, I noticed it was playing a movie about spiritual women. Intrigued, I thought perhaps I was meant to watch it, but I decided to return to my nap instead. Lately, I’ve been experiencing vivid and detailed dreams, which is unusual for me. However, I struggle to remember them after waking up. To capture these dreams while they’re still fresh in my mind, I’ve decided to start a Dream Journal. I am a believer that our dreams are messages from God or from others past trying to tell us something. While browsing the computer, I came across something about "Earth Angels," and it immediately caught my attention. I felt it was another sign meant for me. I watched a video on the topic and was amazed by what I learned. Earth Angels are described as highly sensitive, empathic, and loving beings. They are natural givers, driven by a deep calling to help and serve others. Their soul’s purpose is to shine brightly and make a difference in the world. I was struck by how much this resonated with me. I truly feel God is calling me to recognize that I am one of His Earth Angels. Perhaps this is why I woke up the next morning.  He isn’t finished with me yet—there’s still work for me to do. With this realization, I am stepping into the next phase of my life: to deepen my understanding of what it means to serve as one of His Earth Angels and fulfill my purpose.

I speak about my depression openly in the hopes of helping someone else going through something similar. There is hope and your situation can and will change if you stay positive and believe in yourself and in God. For these challenges you are going though are only going to make you stronger in the end. You must believe. Please do not stop  believing. Find someone to talk to, There are phone numbers under my Resource Page. Use them. No matter how hard it is just do it. Call. We all have a purpose. I do believe that. 

My adult  children know how hard the Holidays are for me. I wanted to cancel Christmas this year and I did Thanksgiving.  But never again. After hearing their voices say, Mom we love you and just want to spend time with you. That rings in my hears again and again. It was all I needed to hear. I will rise above all this depression. I will be happy for I am enough and so are you.

Unbroken Journey

She is a woman of unwavering strength and resilience. Life has tested her in ways most could hardly imagine, breaking her heart time and time again. Yet, no matter how many times she’s been knocked down, she always gets back up and pushes forward. Life has been far from fair. She found herself jobless, unable to feed herself or her children, and even faced homelessness more than once. She sold nearly everything she owned just to survive. In 2021, tragedy struck when a car accident totaled her vehicle. Her health deteriorated, leaving her unable to work as she battled both depression and the chronic pain of fibromyalgia. With no help from the government, she depended solely on the kindness of family and friends. She lost her home. The stress was becoming unbearable. A close friend stepped in during her darkest hour, helping her find a part-time job—a small but hopeful step forward. This same friend also helped her get a car, which she paid off over time. Though each day remained a battle, she refused to give up. Even now, times are tough, and the thought of giving up has crossed her mind more times than she can count. But her faith in God keeps her going. With determination in her heart and strength in her soul, she continues to move forward. She is proof that no matter how heavy the burden, hope and perseverance will always prevail. Through it all, she has discovered the powerful impact of community and connection. Strangers offering words of encouragement, friends bringing food and buying her meals, and countless small gestures of kindness have not only kept her afloat but also reignited her belief in humanity. These moments reminded her that no matter how isolated she felt in her struggles, she was never truly alone. She has since made it her mission to pay it forward when she can—volunteering her time, sharing her story to inspire others, and finding ways to uplift those who may be facing their own battles. It is this cycle of giving and receiving that continues to fuel her journey, proving that even in the darkest of times, compassion can light the way.

Growing Up in Chaos

Growing up, I was a shy, thin girl who always felt out of place. At school, I was often teased for being skinny and for the clothes I wore. I didn’t know how to stand up for myself, nor did I have the confidence to speak up. At home, life wasn’t any better. My parents argued constantly, yelling and screaming at each other, and even throwing things in fits of anger. They didn’t seem to consider how their behavior might affect us kids. Social interactions outside of school or home were almost nonexistent for us, which only made me retreat further into my own world.

To cope with the chaos, I turned to my imagination. I loved to dream, pretend, and fantasize about being somewhere else—anywhere but where I was. Drawing and coloring became my escape. Through art, I could create worlds where I felt safe and in control. Each picture I drew was like a doorway into a better reality, one where I could leave my worries behind, even if just for a little while.

Life with my parents was unpredictable. My father was an alcoholic, and my mother struggled with bipolar disorder. Their moods swung wildly, and my brothers and I never knew what kind of day it would be. It often felt like my mother’s mood set the tone for the entire house, and we were left walking on eggshells, trying to avoid triggering any outbursts. Looking back, I realize how much those early experiences shaped me, but at the time, I was just a kid trying to find some sense of peace in a chaotic world.

Some wonderful Children books for a child you know that might be going through a similar situation are listed below.

The Rabbit Listened

Caring

What to Do With A Chance?

Self Love for Kids

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How does one survive betrayal? How do you get past it?

Surviving Betrayal: How to Heal and Move Forward

Betrayal can feel like an emotional earthquake, shaking the foundation of trust and leaving you questioning everything. Whether it comes from a friend, partner, or colleague, it’s a deeply painful experience, but it’s one you can survive and grow from. The first step is acknowledging your feelings—anger, sadness, and confusion are normal. Allow yourself to feel these emotions without guilt. Next, focus on self-care and surrounding yourself with supportive people who uplift you. Reflect on the situation objectively when you're ready, understanding that betrayal often says more about the betrayer than it does about you. Forgiveness might take time, and it’s okay if it feels unreachable at first—it’s more about finding peace within yourself than excusing the other person’s actions. Finally, rebuild trust slowly, both with others and within yourself. Betrayal might hurt, but it doesn't define you. You have the strength to heal and create a brighter future for yourself.

OK, KNOW THIS - "This has happen to me 3 times in my life. and I have never gotten over a single one. I have gone through counseling, and read self help books. Both helps but you never get over it. It rips your heart out. It does something to your mind." 

"But, we are strong and life goes on. Focus on the good. Pray to God. Write in your journal. Step outside and scream. but then pull yourself together and hold your head high and move forward. Because Karma is a Bitch!"