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Deep Breath

Do you ever find yourself taking an unexpected deep breath…

Lately I have noticed that these unexpected deep breaths keep sneaking their way into my days and nights. Out of the blue, my lungs feel the need to inhale a bit more oxygen.

In a weird way, after a deep breath I feel a bit more at ease…mentally and physically. These thoughts in my mind have been racing in a more sporadic manner lately rather than in an even flow. My body has been sleepless and anxious. The cerebral storm thunders a bit more monstrous at 2am.

However, these unexpected outta the blue deep breaths inject a sense of calm into my veins, they inhabit a sense of peace into my bones.

I inhale reassurance and exhale a negative thought. My focus is refocused.

Breathe in…..breathe out……

The P.A. system keeps my hard heart beating tonight…. -Fall Out Boy

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Between you and me, I feel like the universe is testing me, that it’s been testing me since the beginning of the year.

More times than not I have been the person to “bite my tongue”, “let things go” or tell myself that “it wasn’t meant to be”. I’ve shuffled through these excuses for one reason or another.

Moments were because my confidence wasn’t fully built up, so standing up to certain people such as family members or critics was always a bit nerve wracking.

Moments where I told myself that I wasn’t good enough, that I didn’t deserve success or any type of positive recognition.

I mean, who am I to think that what I have to say has substance, that I can make a difference in this world.

When 2018 spiraled in I made a decision to make a few much needed changes in order to maintain my sanity. While my physical health is important to me, my mental health is even more important. So, I decided to flush out the toxicity surrounding my life. Social media platforms were detoxified, then certain people that I have refrained from standing up to were stood up to (damn it felt good).

Lately, career choices were made that I’ll admit I was apprehensive about making, however, in the long run cutting ties was best.

As for Love and I, well, I keep trying to detach myself. So far my efforts have failed, every time I think that my brain has deleted his image something occurs that causes my thoughts to repay attention, such as a song. Every time I think my heart has been successfully stifled, these dreams steal my insomniac hours. I don’t know what to do in this area of life…

In some form or another, the universe is testing me.

I can’t believe how much I hate pressures of a new place roll my way… -Twenty One Pilots

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My Turn

What do you see when my reflection comes into focus in your viewfinder?

Do you see a freckled porcelain complexion whose appearance seems quiet, perhaps even coldly shy?

Perhaps you see a mutant misfit incapable of making it in this life. A fragile museum artifact that must remain protected with bubble wrap and locked away.

Click to the next slide…

Now here you’ll an image of a dimpled grin, the gatekeeper to the broken brain. You’ll see hazel eyes that hold a tiny spark, within that spark are the silent scars that are stitched into a human heart. A heart that beats for 2064.

Every single slide you skip forward to will always capture that dimpled grin and those spark embedded hazel eyes. What you won’t see is the internal struggle that wages, the side effects of a misfit’s anxiety.

A clenched chest… deep breathing goes into effect in hopes that focused oxygen will aid from the dizzying room possibly going dark. Headphones cemented to eardrums, injecting lyrical morphine into the cerebral thunderstorm. A fond numbness is wished for so that the booming thoughts that scream disaster will calm.

While I mentally whisper that everything will be ok and that everything will run smoothly, my anxiety is in the process of conjuring up its own destructive plan. Meeting unfamiliar humans, speaking to an audience of any size or a project that involves getting lost within my thoughts and breaking off a piece of myself… boom!

A tiny fleeting moment of titanium confidence, then an ear piercing whisper…

“My turn…”

Don’t get too close, it’s dark inside…-Imagine Dragons

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The “S” Word

This life is definitely not for the faint at heart. This life is a whirlwind of luminosity and darkness, however when that darkness sneaks in it becomes all we can see. The light seems burnt out and we feel as though there’s nothing left, that we have nothing left in us. This life, in all of its beautiful chaos, is worth living. 💛

Never silence someone’s depression, anxiety or suicidal thoughts. I understand that these topics may be uncomfortable for you to discuss, but please remember…your discomfort is our reality…your discomfort doesn’t outweigh our lives.

Talk…listen…support. 💛

I know who I truly am, I truly do have a chance…I’m fairly local, I’ve been around, I’ve seen the streets you’re walkin’ down… -Twenty One Pilots

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Inspired Bones

Music calms my anxiety…

Music inspires me…

Music causes my body to rock out…

Music numbs the pain stitched in my heart…

Music silences the thunderstorm in my cerebral…

While writing and the embedded promise on my arm keep me breathing, music saved me when nothing but darkness resides in my bones…

Music is a new beginning…


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2 Months…Holy Shit.

Great title right…I thought so too.

The last two months have been a blurred whirlwind. This dream of becoming a brilliant writer who’s story is shared around the world, who’s story may make a difference in how our society thinks…it’s been a ride to say the least. The current publisher I am with has been next to no help in keeping their part of the contract up, so a decision had to be made.

Two weeks ago as I was washing off the day in the shower, as the vanilla suds washed away I took my five minutes. Five minutes to allow the hot downpour to cancel out the sound of tears streaming down my freckled cheeks. Five minutes to allow the anxiety to fill my head with every self bullying comment to break me down. Five minutes to allow this depressional storm to finish drowning my confidence. And, then in the last few seconds of self destruction, a decision…quit or fight?

Now I excel at many things, however, quitting has never been one of those things. For whatever reason, no matter how deeply I want to quit, I can’t. It’s as if I’m programmed to keep fighting, even in the moments that I want to wave the white flag. Over the years I have learned that this is both a blessing and a giant pain in the ass aspect.

That same night, while getting lost in a carton of Ben & Jerry’s mint cookie ice cream, my mind made its mental list of pros and cons…one definitely out weighing the other.

These next two months, starting from last Sunday to Nov 2nd, will deliver another whirlwind. In these next two months I will be celebrating my baby bros 22nd bday (this Friday). He has gone from a total punk to an amazing man in the last couple of years. I’m so proud of him. My Mom’s and sister’s bdays are also in September, its pretty much bday palooza for the Sabo’s. I myself will be embarking in breaking ties with my current publisher and hopefully finding a new one, a genuine and honest one…fingers crossed. I’ll also be finishing my current manuscript while starting my first fictional story (I’m scared as shit, but also excited). This insane month will end in one word…Epic. As I will be at the Fall Out Boy concert featuring Machine Gun Kelly. I attended the first round of the Mania tour last year so it’s only appropriate that I attend round two.

In October there will be more bdays to celebrate and on the 15th I will go dark, 24 hours of going off of the grid (this day will mark 11 years since my Popee passed). Then Halloween will spook it’s way in. I do love spooks.

Two days after all Hallows day flys in and out will mark my bday. Yep, on November 2nd I will be turning 34…holy shit. It’s not the number that causes me to momentarily stop breathing, it’s the thought of “how have I made it this far?”. From the kid who wasn’t supposed to live past the age of 14 to attempting suicide at the age of 17. At 22 (two weeks before my 23rd bday) I lost my Popee to cancer. That next year I was so angry, sad…I stopped eating and found myself at rock bottom, again. At 26 I met a guy that I thought was “the one” only to realize that I was involved with a villain portraying a nice guy facade. One toxic relationship. At 28 I became sick with Bronchitis, 4 months of constantly praying “kill me now. Seriously, I’m ready”. Then at the age of 29, two months before turning the big 30, I found out that I was sick, to the point of literally baffling the doctors as to how I was still alive. Mind numbing terms were being thrown at me, “heart attack, organs shutting down, transfusions, hospital”. No good news exists before you’ve had your morning coffee. After that appointment, I found myself on the side of the car in a Denny’s parking lot fearing death for the first time in my life.

And here I am, two weeks from that mind numbing day of believing that I was finished…here I am, two months away from out living that original death statistic by 20 years. Like I said…

2 months…holy shit.

If I can live through this, I can do anything… -Fall Out Boy