Monday, October 20, 2014


I've been struggling.
Struggling to focus, to produce, to create.
Struggling to be kind to myself, accept reality in all its harsh wonderfulness, be present, be accountable.
Struggling to put pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard) and articulate these feelings. Putting them into words identifies them, breathes life into them, and then it is even harder to deny their existence.

I feel as if I am in limbo. I'm undefined. I am a SAHM because I couldn't be a teacher. At least that is how it feels on the dark days. That accepting my disability was an admittance of defeat. Man, I hate the idea of failing. And there are days where I feel as if I am failing at everything. Being a mom, a wife, a woman, a writer, even at being blind.

Because I am not really blind, I am blindish. I am significantly visually impaired but I am really good at getting by. Therefore the question am I really disabled enough rings true at times. This is the question that runs through my brain on a seemingly endless loop especially after any contact with insurance companies.

Most days I know the labels don't matter. I am who I am and can respectfully honor all my limitations physical, emotional, and mental. I am enough. I relish in these moments and hold on to pieces of the peace this acceptance brings to shed light on the dark days, hoping someday I will be enough, be the light to vanquish the dark for good.