Deserter of Defects

Dear Defect Deserter,
That uncomfortable feeling you're running from?  The one you feel when looking at the minister, who in your mind is being exposed by the veil, unearthing imperfections, rather than keeping the illusion of perfection you have instilled upon the man of faith. The openness in which the minister shares what you assume to be his imperfections scares and shakes your sense of stability in your lair of lies. 
Your lair of lies has been carefully crafted, leaving you space to judge and deem others full of imperfections, without ever casting a glance at your own defects. The veil couldn't possibly be a proper mirror, reflecting your own shortcomings. The black dye must be seeping from its wearer, your ability to see the black must mean you can help the wearer. It couldn't possibly be that your ability to see the black veil means that you are wearing one of your own, that everyone else can see, yet you refuse to acknowledge. 
Deserting your path of growth and denying imperfections will lead you on a lonely icy path of solitude. When reality finally cracks the thin ice, no one will be around to save you from yourself.

Dreams and Disenchantment

The same mind-my mind in the span of 15 minutes,sparks a new idea plays out the perfect options as if the world was aligned and then disproves it all. Turning the spark ignited fury of flames into smoking travesty of embers.
Self deprecating demons leave half dead dreams on every doorstep to a new dream,reminding me of self failures, everlasting in my mind. Each half dead dream telling me I should try again while the demons just say "look at the mess you leave in your wake". Self worth has been banished from afar it tries to stoke the coals of dreams. Shiny dreams spark wars with the self destructive demons, if they even survive the battle scars to great to keep fighting.
The fight is hard to win when most of the time you don't believe your existence is worth fighting for.

10 lessons I learned while coloring

10 lessons I learned while coloring 

1. Boundaries are focusing, relaxing, and help create beauty.

2. Repetition of patterns opens the door to creativity in my mind.

3. A lack of perfection creates beauty 

4. Clashing colors and realities work well together.

5. Move slowly, creativity evolves, don't rush it.

6. Not all pieces of the pattern can be found and put together at once.

7. Different mediums (crayons/pencils) while they look similar in the final product; process different emotions in use.

8. Space doesn't always need to be filled.

9. Choosing colors, while it can be overwhelming, is a great habit builder,and a transferable life skill.

10. Balancing the ability to have many thoughts, good and bad, while still managing to relax into the colors and lines.

Cerebral Miscommunications

         My body is a bad communicator. My brain never communicates in advance to let me know when it's planning to break down. My body also likes to fuse issues. An example my brain will decide it's time for my back to spasm, which on its own is annoying, as it makes turning and bending hurt, but on its own can be ridden out. Yet when my brain combines back spasms and joint pain, we get a system overload. It might seem that system overload is an exaggeration, but it isn't.
           My brain is always processing and working with many different realities and thoughts. I have channels that focus on school, work, my eating disorder when I can control it, takes only one channel. Of course, I have my body channel. My CP channel. My CP channel is in charge of the uncontrollable shakes, random aches, and pains, loss of sensation and just an overall uncontrollable control over my body.  I control my CP channel some of the time, I can type, write, walk, grasp objects, some of the time. Sometimes my CP channel splits it lets me type, yet sends my legs into the uncontrollable shakes while giving me back spasms. I think the CP channel uses a randomizer to decide what it feels like shaking up. (Yes I went there with the dad joke),
      In conclusion, when you see me making funny faces, or move in weird motions when we talk or when we interact, it just means my Cerebral Palsy has taken over the reins, and I'm just along for the ride. My shakes aren't contagious and I prefer you don't ask me to stop them, I might be able to sometimes, but understand it's most of the time just cerebral miscommunications. 

Depressions Playground

The great depressive slug. This is how society likes to portray depression. As if it's a slow constant moving slug of sadness, that slides over you and holds court. The reality is little slugs full of potent depressive poison that get rained down upon your path of life and when you get caught by one you freeze up in anxiety while burning up in despair leaving you frozen in ashes.

The storm always seems like it came out of nowhere but storms always brew when the sun is out. The slugs come out when the weather changes when the winds of change and uncertainty blow through the desert of stability. The mirage of stability parches your soul; leaving dreams to die scorched by illusions of freedom.

Snakes of dreams slither through the sand of expectations, rearranging their ideas into plans of independent creation. The lack of ability to look up to the storm clouds creates flash flooding funerals of aspirations. Slugs claim martyrdom to justify their cause, fueled by ashes of despair mixed with the poison of depression.

Depression is the entire desert filled with different options to embody depending on the person, place, and time.

Mind Mines

Careful where you step when visiting my mind. There are no signs and when you step on a mine, my mind flies back to a cell block you never knew existed. The cell barely fits your chained heart and brain, let alone space to be. The cell walls are perfect for thoughts to bounce off the walls, and right when you think they have disappeared; they regain their chokehold. The thoughts don't march in looking for a place to be, they buddy up with good memories, ideas, and feelings. After they arrive they band together and kill off their competition. There is no need for them to multiply as bad feelings work better with space, they create a dance. The dance is choreographed by self-hate the unofficial leader of the crew, due to his veteran time spent in my mind. The music buries my cries for help escaping the maze of my mind, yet the thoughts deafen my ears to hear any response. The maze of mind my mind with no entrance or exit to be seen.

Finding a New Fitness Journey

I didn't realize that for a while now I have been shooting myself in the foot with my fitness journey. People ask me what I'm up to sport wise and I have always answered that I'm getting back to it. I realized my mental block was not the fitness aspect rather the fact that I kept telling myself I was going to get back to a previous physical state. My mind and physical reality then made me give up before I even started as I felt getting back to competitive rowing was an impossible dream for a variety of factors.
I need to create a new path with new goals and different aspirations, finding a healthy balance between body image, health, fitness, sport, and all around balance in my life with work and college. Super simple right, I wish. Finding new goals and breaking them down into step by step actions to reach a new healthy place in my body is what I'm starting with first. While this is far from the end and where I want to be physically, working on mentally saying where am I heading on this new fitness journey rather than trying to get back to a vision of grandeur that I remember myself being, walk a new path and create an actual healthy future without it being tied into the Paralympics.
Goals and competitiveness don't have to equal Paralympics there are many opportunities in between that I can find and create. The most important goal I have right now is to get into a healthy state of being both my body and mind and from there I'll see.