I love to read so when I travel I hit all the local used books stores and load up on books. I’ve had this books for quite some time but now wish I’d bought it when it was first released and paid full price because it explains my mindset and what’s in my heart, better than I ever could find the words to do. Continue reading Your Life Is Your Own, What Will You Do With It?
I’m not bitter with you, I feel sorry for you. I feel sorry that you didn’t want to be a part of my life and my successes. I feel sorry that you would rather be my biggest failure. I feel sorry that you chose a life without me in it. I feel sorry that I’ve accomplished so much in the last couple of years and you’ve heard nothing about it. I feel sorry that you have no right to be proud of me. I feel sorry that you will never be a part of my life again. I feel sorry that I let you hurt me as badly as you did. I feel sorry that I put so much trust and effort into building a relationship with you; a relationship that you just didn’t want. I feel sorry that I had faith in you. Most of all, though, I feel sorry that you will forever feel that I’m simply not good enough.
I love falling asleep to the sound of rain, its smell, summer showers, and forehead kisses.
I love books that I can’t put down, warm, crispy towels off the line, and finding quotes that describe my current situation.
I love seeing my favorite bands live, the boom of thunder; and lightning that lights up the sky.
Continue reading I Love
“You are such a selfish person Kerri, truly pathetic, I don’t have time for this shit!”
That’s what my mother said to me the day I attempted suicide. Continue reading The Day I Attempted Suicide
I am often asked why I don’t associate with my birth mother, my brother, and two of my half-brothers. The conversations all start with, “How is your…?” To which I reply, “I’m not really sure, I haven’t seen them or talked to them in years”. Then I am asked “Why?” To keep it simple, I just say that we took different paths in life, which sums it up in a nutshell, but that never seems to be an acceptable answer, because as soon as it’s said, the interrogation begins. At this point, I usually just say that the house I grew up in was abusive so I walked away, so I wouldn’t become a product of that environment. I am then told, in so many words, that it’s sinful and wrong that I’ve cut off ties with my family; that it doesn’t matter that they were or are abusive to me, the proper thing to do is be patient and tolerant of their sins.