Sharing The Love

Illuminating Blog Award

On my latest Blog post, I had the beautiful surprise of being nominated for the Illuminating Blogger Award by Miss Rambler from The Risible Rambler. This lady loves writing and she does it so well!! There is a wide variety of posts on her Blog that very often bring a smile to your face and to your heart.

The Illuminating Blogger Award is given “for illuminating, informative blog content” (according to their site).

Now, the rules of receiving the blogging award are the fllowing:

1. The nominee should visit the award site (http://foodstoriesblog.com/illuminating-blogger-award/) and leave a comment indicating that they have been nominated and by whom. (This step is so important because it’s the only way that we can create a blogroll of award winners).

2. The Nominee should thank the person that nominated them by posting & including a link to their blog.

3. Share one random thing about yourself in your blog post.

4. Select at least five other bloggers that you enjoy reading their illuminating, informative posts and nominate them for the award.

5. Notify your nominees by leaving a comment on their blog, including a link to the award site (http://foodstoriesblog.com/illuminating-blogger-award/).

I had many ideas of things I would want to mention in this post but then I decided that I would take the opportunity to tell you about the influence a particular song has had on my life.

As a child, I didn’t have a single word of English yet, nothing at all, but I used to talk in French to my virtual friend that I created in my mind, and I used to ask her to keep me company and help me to cry. I also used to say (without understanding the meaning of what I was saying) “Can’t they hear me crying? Can’t they see I’m dying?”. Not only that, but my favorite melody was Adagio. It used to bring tears to my eyes. Many years later, I heard a song by Louise Tucker from her album Midnight Blue on the radio. The song is called Graveyard Angel. The song’s music is based on Adagio. I don’t know the lyrics now except two things she says “can’t you see I’m crying, don’t you know I’m dying”. Since that time, listening to the song Graveyard Angel takes me to another world. I searched for the full lyrics but didn’t find them. I can’t listen to the song and write down the lyrics because when the song is playing I am ABSENT, however hard I try to concentrate. If anyone of you know this song, or if anyone of you can get the lyrics for me. I would be so grateful.

I have now to nominate 5 Bloggers …..

1. Heal Now and Forever and Anxiety Shmanxiety Blog  author Jodi Aman
2. Cauldrons and Cupcakes author Nicole Cody
3. Gems of Delight author  Lisa
4. My verbally Abusive marriage author Kellie Jo Holly
5. Bringing Along OCD author Tina Barbour 

Reader Appreciation Award

I have been following Roxy's Blog  Adverse Universe  for some time, and I love her very informative, well written posts about Eating Disorders and her path to Recovery. I had the very nice surprise to see that Roxy has very kindly nominated me for the Reader Appreciation Award, and I would like to thank her so much for that.

It’s true that I don’t suffer from an eating disorder, but I think that everyone has his own struggle, and we don’t necessarily have to live through an identical situation in order to understand one another. Love is not conditioned by our struggles in life.

Here’s what I have to do!

1. Include the award logo somewhere in your blog.

2. Answer these 10 questions, below, for fun if you want to.

3. Nominate 10 to 12 blogs you enjoy. Or you pick the number.

4. Pay the love forward: Provide your nominee’s link in your post and comment on their blog to let them know they’ve been included and invited to participate.

5. Pay the love back with gratitude and a link to the blogger(s) who nominated you.

The Questions: 

1. What is your favorite colour?

I would instantly reply Blue, although the shade which attracts me is Black

2. What is your favorite animal?

Dogs – The two dogs I had in my life are the only ones who showed me unconditional love. They would listen to me, feel my pain and comfort me.

3. What is your favorite non-alcoholic drink?

Fresh Fruit juice, any kind except Guava

4. Do you prefer Facebook or Twitter?

I prefer Facebook because I like to have direct contact with my online friends.

5. What is your favorite pattern?

Swirling colours

6. Do you prefer giving or getting presents?

I love both, but I certainly prefer giving presents. I like to receive ONLY when it comes from love and not because the person feels obliged to offer something on a special occasion. The gift has a great value in my heart even if it’s just a smile. About giving presents, I don’t like to do it in standard occasions. I like from time to time to just send a gift that shows my love to the person.

7. What is your favorite number?

My favorite number is 4. I don’t know why, but it has always been. I used to say I wanted 4 children and to die at 44 (which is this year). It might seem silly but I like the fact that my birthday is on the 22nd (2+2 = 4) and I’m 44. I feel that is special.

8. What is your favorite day of the week?

I really don’t have a favorite day in a week. My favorite day is the one I can spend ALONE relaxing, doing nothing except what I want to do.

9. What is your favorite flower?

I love all flowers but my favorites are jasmine and gardenia

10. What’s your passion?

My passion is connecting with people, discussing different subjects, or sitting in silence. I mainly love to help others who suffer. My dream has always been to become a therapist.

The Nominees I will mention below may choose to not participate in this award process. I’ll of course leave it up to them, but I do encourage you to check their Blogs

These are some of the blogs I enjoy reading most

1. Eating Life Raw author Leah Griffith
2. Bella Bleue Healing, Health & Inspiration for your Life author Erin
3. Inspiration from the Little things author Irene
4. Martha's Daily devotions author Martha Orlando
5. Navigating Cyberloss author Casey B
6. Live Law of Attraction Linda Armstrong
7. Writings on Body Image and Identity author Lisa Rosenberg
8. A Year of Making a Difference author Louise Gallagher
9. Memoirs of Me
10. Nelmitravel author Nelieta
11. Healing Morning author Dawn
12. I Take Off the mask author Joyce

I didn't give an explanation on the content of each Blog i have nominated, but I really recommend you check them all.

Happy reading, Many Thanks and Love to all!!

Heart-Sisters

It's been three days since I wrote my last post "I Miss You", and I was still missing a comment from Pat who in fact inspired me to write that post. Today Pat not only commented, but she sent me a beautiful poem for my Blog :)

"I miss you" is the mask you wear when

you have such a lot to say

It's the lid upon the box within which

emotion's locked away ...

Cos you've lived a fearful life, I know,

but the time has now arrived

When you'll let that inner turmoil out

for, you see, you HAVE survived.

You have lived through childhood Hell and then,

just to underline the case

Married life has been a string of things:

accusations 'in your face'

He has knocked you out then in again,

and he's kicked you when you're down

Trying to make of you a laughing-stock,

showing you up while in town.

I'd like to say you're so much stronger now

than you ever were before

For you've found that shining inner self which

you're learning to love more

Now you walk along with your head held high -

you know your own pure worth

Which is far more than you've known before,

through this life 'til now, from birth.

Now, you bear a torch and you light the path

so that we can place our feet

On safe ground as we, too, head towards that place

where you and we will meet ...

For you paint clear pictures with your words which

we all can understand

Yes, you'll guide us through the boggy mire, '

til we reach that solid land.

Patricia Eastwood

On July 16 2011, I felt I had lost everything. My whole world was collapsing. It was less than a month since I had tried to put an end to my pain, less than a day since I felt abandoned by the person I loved most in my entire life. After she's gone, who would I live for? Who should I contact? Who can I talk to?

Those were the thoughts running through my mind when I came across a Facebook page Hold My Hand. First thing that attracted me was the profile picture, then I saw a message encouraging the readers to share their problems and ask for help. I liked the page then wrote on the wall that I needed help, but didn't want to share publicly on the wall. It took less than 5 minutes before I got a friend request from Patricia, the owner of the page.

That's how it all started. It wasn't only the beginning of a very special friendship, but it was also the beginning of my new life. Patricia held my hand and helped me through each day. She guided me, encouraged me and made me feel important and worthy. She listened, understood and never judged. She made me cry and helped me laugh.She gave me hope.She gave me my life back.
I have no words to describe our friendship, but what i am sure of is that it goes beyond time, words and circumstances.

Pat knows me much better than I know myself. When I met her I had only 12 contacts on my Facebook list. Pat opened the doors for me and introduced me back to the world. I made new friends on Facebook. She guided me to Jodi's page Heal now and Forever, and that was how I was introduced to the Blogger's world.  You are all my new family, and I love you so much.

Thank you Pat for being YOU <3

I Miss You :(

Me: " I miss you".
Her: " How can you miss me when I'm here?"

It's not the first time I say those 3 words " I miss you", and it's not the first time I get that same reply, and I never reply back. What can I say that wouldn't sound ridiculous? How can I miss someone I am talking to, someone I'm in contact with 24/7? Yes, I say 24/7 and I mean it, because I believe I am strongly connected with my friends and I feel them close whenever I need them. I just need to call them in my mind and feel their presence.


What do I really mean by saying "I miss you"? What are the feelings hiding behind those three words? I think it has nothing to do with the person I am talking to. It has only to do with me, and the emptiness I still feel inside when i am not able to deal with a situation or with my life in general.
Telling a person that I miss her has always been accompanied by silent tears.

I miss you in my vocabulary means I feel lonely and I need your love. I need to be reminded that I am loved, that the lonely days are over. I need some comfort and reassurance like a child who waits for his mother to come and tuck him into his bed. That child knows that he is loved but he just waits for his mum to demonstrate her love.


I miss you can also mean I'm in pain and I don't know what to do. I miss you when I feel my chest so tight, and brings a lump in my throat. It means I know you are here and I'm thinking of you. Sometimes it means thank you for being here with me.

"I miss you " is the mask I wear when I have a lot to say and I don't know where to start.

"I miss you, although I know you are here."

"West Side Story"

I entered the doctor's office with my mother, blood test results in hand. I had no idea what the doctor's assessment would be, but I recall how hard I had prayed for it to be something serious, a life threatening disease. It all started with a full year of joint pain, fever and general fatigue. I gave him the test results, my heart was racing. His face wasn't as serious as I wanted it to be, but he said : 

"You, Little Miss, are going to skip classes for 10 days. We'll have to remove your tonsils. How about booking a hospital room for next Monday?" 

I could hardly mask my joy!! what good news!! Of course it would have been much better had he said I was suffering from cancer, but it was still OK since I would be spending a few days in hospital and my mother would have to stay with me.

The night prior to the surgery, I packed my little bag, and left home for my happy adventure. I was so excited, smiling and loving the idea of having her next to my bed, holding my hand just as I had seen in all those movies on TV. The thought of it was enough to give me goosebumps and fill me with a happiness I hadn't known before.

The surgery went well. I remember her big smile when they brought me back to my room. I remember my dad arriving with a lovely bouquet of red roses, and kissing me on the forehead. I remember her sitting on the armchair doing crosswords. I was staring at her hoping she would read my mind and come closer to ease my pain. I also remember what she said to the nurse who asked her if she needed an extra bed for the night: 

"Of course not! She's a big girl and in good hands".

She left me alone in my hospital room, alone with my tears.

The days after didn't go as well as expected, and my stay in hospital was extended. I only went back home on Friday afternoon, 5 days later. The BEST surprise was that I was allowed to occupy my mother's bed for few days. It wasn't a good idea to receive visitors while sleeping on the mattress on the balcony floor which was my usual bedroom.

I wasn't able to speak. I couldn't eat or drink. The wound was not healing properly. My little sister gave me paper and a pen so that I could write down what I needed, but no one was even passing by the room to check whether I had written anything.

On Saturday morning, he arrived. He came especially for me. He came to see me and stay with me. He sat on the bed next to me. He held my hand, talking to me, encouraging me to eat or sleep. He tried to feed me watermelon. I couldn't swallow it. I remember him going to put it in a blender so that I could at least drink the juice. He made me a cup of tea and gave it all to me using a teaspoon like you would feed a baby.

My mother came to the bedroom and said: 

I'm taking your sisters and your cousin to the movies. They are showing a great movie which I love, "West Side Story". Don't take that sad look!! You'll watch it when you get better!" 

I will never forget the movie's name and I never watched it.

They all went to the movies and I stayed in bed with a big smile. He showed me love. He cared and took care of me. He is aunt H's son, that same cousin who had been sexually abusing me since I was 6.

Whenever I talk to someone who has been through the same experiences, and I compare myself and wonder how come I don't hate my abusers, I know that the answer is just that I made the choice so long ago to look at the good in everyone. People are all good, and when they do bad things, it's just that they don't know how to do better.

I will never forget what that particular cousin did to me. I can't forget, but when I think of my cousin, I think of that Saturday afternoon, when he held my hand and made me a cup of tea.

He is living in peace with his wife and 3 boys. Remembering his abuse will not affect him in any way, but it would upset me. He won't even know about it. It won't bother him nor make him feel guilty. It will only make me sick. There is no positive outcome of remembering the abuse and getting upset.

I can still smile when I remember that cup of tea.

If I blink, I will be punished

I think I have reached during the last two days, the lowest point I ever been to. It is easy to think and pretend that his words are no longer hurting me, but how true is that? Are there no limits to what someone can handle?

The verbal abuse, the emotional torture, the physical inflicted pain, how can my strength prevent me from feeling them going deep, so deep in my heart and just put me on my knees and wish for the end?

I have ruined his life. I followed him like a virus till I took control over him with my stupid ruse. I cried on his shoulder about being abused from such a young age. I made him believe my lies. I fooled him over 23 long years making him look stupid. I made myself a victim of my family and society, and he was so good, so pure, so kind that he believed me. I made him think I have opened up to him to awaken his pity and love and as a professional liar I created proofs for what I was telling .....

He tells me in front of the kids, he swears on the kids' lives, next time he needs to beat me, he won't stop until I die (with my ten year old sitting as close to my side as she can to protect me, my son on the floor at my feet, creating a barrier and my eldest shouting at him to STOP), he reminds me that he broke my laptop over my head (causing me damage which I still suffer from one year later) He shouts that he has every intention of using my old computer, next time ... and he will kill me and it will all be my own fault ... he swears on the kids' lives that this will be so.

I can go on and repeat  the things I listen to everyday, but what for? Why Bother?

When I look back at the many events of the past that have certainly caused a big damage in me, and I try to think of them, write about them, I know that it is over. I know that they were just lessons I needed to go through in order to learn and become a better person. I have no regrets. I have no hatred. I don't even feel the pain that was inflicted to me in the past. The pain I feel is related to now, to today, to this very moment, now. What hurts is the impact of that trauma on my life now and his use of it in the present.

In my previous post, I was telling you about some of that sexual abuse, and I said that I forgave. I did forgive, telling about it does not hurt anymore. In fact I don't need to tell about it. I don't feel I have to, as it really belongs to the past, but what is hurting me is the "use" which he makes of that past. What is hurting me is how the truth has been changed into a completely new story where I become the aggressor.

"I saved your honor by marrying you. You're just a whore who was active when other girls were still playing with their dolls. I bet you miss him, or miss them. Are they all better than me? who was the best among them? Go to them. Go and have fun with them, you certainly feel like it. You want it because it's in you. They are in you. I saved your honor. How stupid was I? You're just a useless whore. I never loved you but I felt pity. I had pity for you. You are stealing my money. You are hiding your truth by giving the image of the good spouse"

I don't know how to define the way I am feeling. I have no words for that. i don't know what kind of help I can ask for. I know that I am empty, lost and confused. In the worst moment yesterday and as I was unable to even talk about what happened, I spent many hours of "silence" online with my friend. I felt her presence, she at her laptop, sending love to me. I wasn't alone. I knew it helped, because, when I started to feel the physical pain. I was back to life.

I started by saying I have reached the lowest point I ever been to. For those who have known me long enough, you might think 'it's not possible since you're still here whereas in the past you gave up'. Yes, I am still here and I will stay. In the past I was alone. Today your love, all of you, is carrying me away from the pain.

That's Nothing...

Last week, I posted 'A cry for Help'. I knew that all my friends who read my Blog would send me love and support, but the responses I had were far beyond my expectations. I honestly never felt loved the way you all made me feel this week. I have always prayed and wished to have a friend, but instead of one friend, I now find myself in the middle of the most amazing circle of friends. Thank you all from the bottom of my heart!

I have been sick this week with bronchitis and I stayed home most of the time. Although I am still very tired, I had a very busy day today with my children. Among other things, I went with my little princess to a cafe where we met with my sister. As soon as we sat at a table, my sister said :


"Tomorrow we 're going to the village; aunt H is very sick. I know you don't care. I know family means nothing to you, but dad and I are going, just so that you know."

Family means nothing to you... family means nothing to you... nothing.. nothing.... you mean nothing to them, you are nothing... nothing... the word "nothing" was resonating in my head. My mind was transforming my sister's words, but all I could think of was "nothing".

Since the age of 6 years old, my cousin who was not much older than me, somehow always managed to sleep beside me whenever we went to the village to spend the week end. We were seven children and two adults sharing three mattresses on the floor.

I knew what was happening was wrong. I knew he had no right to do what he was doing, but all my attempts to avoid him were in vain. I was too scared to tell my parents or anyone else. I felt I had to accept and let it happen in order to protect my sisters. He knew that was my weak point.
"If you don't want, it's not a problem, I'm going to sleep next to your sister!"

Years were passing, and the same "village routine" was taking place. The older I was, the more uncomfortable I became. I was ashamed of myself, depressed, sick.

Ten years after it started my cousin was more demanding, more controlling, I finally decided this had to stop. After a lot of thinking and panicking, I called Aunt H, my abuser's mother, and told her I had something very important to tell her. We sat on a sofa, side by side. I looked her in the eyes and with a voice trembling from all the mixed emotions, I told her the truth. I told her what her son has been doing to me. I told her that I never let my parents know to avoid family problems. I said the truth. Awaiting her reply, I was breathless. She held my hands in hers, looked at me with a wide smile and said:

"It's OK Nikky , it's fine.That is nothing. It is nothing. Is that the important thing you had to tell me? He is just proving his love to you. That is part of life. That is a proof of love. In just few years, you will be his wife. That was the deal since you were born when your Grandmother decided".

"Hey, hey Nikky!!! Where did you go?? Did you hear what I was just telling you? Tomorrow we're going to the village; aunt H is very sick. I know you don't care. I know family means nothing to you, but dad and I are going, just so that you know."

I am not resentful.

I did forgive them all.

I love and care for them all and wish them well, but I also need to physically distance myself from them.

  

Does that make me heartless?

Nominated again, Thank you :)

I am very excited to announce that I have been nominated for two more blog awards:  the Versatile Blogger Award and the Beautiful Blogger Award.


I am so grateful for Lisa W. Rosenberg who has nominated me in her Blog for the second time. That makes me really happy. Thank you Lisa. 






Since the Beautiful Blogger Award and the Versatile Blogger Award have similar rules (except with the number of bloggers nominations), I chose to do what Lisa did and combine the two awards. I will nominate 15 bloggers all in all.


So here are the rules for the Awards:


- Thank the blogger who nominated you.
- Share 7 random things about yourself.
- Nominate 15 fellow bloggers for the Versatile Blogger Award and 7 Bloggers for The Beautiful Blogger Award
- Inform the bloggers of their nomination.
- Include the Versatile Blogger Award image and the Beautiful Blogger award image  in your blog post.

Seven Random Things about me:

1. As a child, I din't like my name. I used to cry and ask my parents to change my name and call me "Christine". The reason was that we had a neighbor called Christine, and my mum used to call her "Tina", whereas she has always called me Nicole instead of giving me a shortened version. I felt that this would demonstrate her love for me.
2. I love numbers, anything related to numbers, and my favorite subject at school was Mathematics.
3. Since I was a child (and I have no idea why), I memorize the car plate number of all the persons I love. Some of them I still remember now.
4. I have a major problem with phone calls. When I know my children are safe, I can let the phone ring as long as it takes and not bother to pick up and see who is calling.
5. I first attempted suicide at 25 months of age.
6. At the age of 4, I wanted to be like my daddy. I took his blade, and passed it on my face, doing real damage at that time.
7. I suffer now from severe short term memory loss, but when it comes to the past, my memory is very sharp and clear!

I nominated for the awards the following Blogs:

1. Zen Revolution
2. Bringing along OCD
3. D.Nichole Akao
4. Gems of Delight
5. Cauldrons and Cupcakes
6. My Inner Chick
7. Mama Wants This
8. Diary of a Heart In Transit
9. Martha's Daily Devotions
10. Recover your Joy
11. Daily Spirit
12. Confessions from an Impulsive Addict
13. Live Bold and Bloom
14. Everyday Gyaan
15. Keeping Time

I have tried to nominate Blogs that I didn't mention before, and that were not nominated before for those two same awards.

Fighting For Life

Guest post by Samar Saleh

 Echoes

Every time I see a newly born baby I have the same strange thoughts, I find myself gazing at his eyes that seem to be looking at me, wondering if he really sees me, does this child know the place he had been pulled into or is it still too soon to figure that out? We never know the ups and downs which we are going to face, we never know the pain that will ache our hearts, yes we are going to fall so many times, and each time we fall we shall bounce up and rise again, maybe hope will carry you up, maybe a good friend will uplift you, or maybe you are very strong and you can always depend on yourself to shine.

 And so when I see the newly born child wondering how tough is he going to fall, and what kind of wounds will put him in pain, but I am never worried, because with each obstacle we find ourselves capable of fighting it back, there is always a strength deep within but we don’t know we have, and when life hits us so hard we fight harder, but when the fight is for the sake of a dream then it’s so worth the pain.

Life is hard, short and full of pain; no one can deny that, each got his own burden but we are still alive, and that’s a precious chance, let us have a little faith and believe in the goodness of life, let us be grateful, let us thank the people who always stand by our sides and tell them how much we love them, and always believe in your self no matter how down you are, life had gave you another chance to live why don’t you give life another chance to be good!

Samar Saleh

 Less than one month after I wrote my first Blog Post, I received a message from Samar asking me to write a post for her great Inspirational Blog Echoes. I was flattered and happy but at the same time I was anxious and scared. 

Who am I to be invited on another successful Blog? What will her readers think when they will read my Post? 

Encouraged by Pat, I wrote an entry for Echoes, and felt so relieved once it was posted

That entry, meant a lot to me. It was my first official step as a Blogger!

Thank you Samar. Your Blog is Great!

Nikky

A Cry for Help

It's 4:00 am and I can't sleep.I have been trying since last Friday to write, not because I have to, but because writing actually helps.

I didn't like any of my writings, so, as fast as I wrote, I deleted. Each effort seemed to me either "silly" or not interesting, or too negative.

Is that what is called self doubt? Could be, but I'm not sure it is the case with what has been happening this week. After all, I am writing just to express myself, to say what's on my mind, to be listened to. I'm not writing to become popular or to sell anything. Then why delete what I have been saying? Am I ashamed of my feelings and emotions? Am I afraid to disappoint you all who believe in me? I'm sure there is a little of that of all these options, but I would rather say that the main reason is denial.

I refuse to feel the way I do.

I refuse to admit my weaknesses.

I refuse to get hurt again.

I refuse to give up.

I refuse to admit that I need help.

The truth is that I do need help. ... I need help. ... Could anyone help me? ... Would anyone help me? ... Please?

There ... I have said it. I will try to keep this article. I will try not to delete it. This is me. I am honest and open with all of you, so why not be honest and open with myself too?

I have spent all these years trying hard to earn the approval of others. I have done my best to show them I was strong enough to handle everything, however, I had no faith in my own strength. I thought I was just pretending and acting, but now I see it. Now I know that I am strong. Now I know that I am ME and I also know that this "me" is strong but I still have needs like any other person, any other creature on this planet.

Are those signs of weakness? I thought they were, but I was wrong. Those are the essence of our existence.

I need love. I need respect. I need to exist, to breathe and to live.

Above all, I need MY OWN love, respect and acceptance. Is that too much to ask? Where do I find this acceptance? How do I start to love myself? Which compartment of my mind or my heart is it hidden in? When did I stop respecting myself? Is that, too, buried under the bombed-out rubble of my war-torn childhood? Will I ever be able to look at that face in the bathroom mirror and see beyond the skin? How do I access the true, inner me, and make friends with her at last ... because, from the tiny sprout of new friendship springs the wonderful flower of non-judgmental love.

I need your help and I need my love. By reading this, you are helping. Thank you.

Positive, positive, positive

I wasn't able for the last couple of days, to be online. I'm not doing very well for many different reasons. Sometimes reading helps me, recently writing is helping too. The love and support I am receiving from all of you through this Blog or on Facebook is amazing. Sometimes, things get harder, and even those activities seem impossible. Today I am struggling very hard to stay positive, but I know I WILL do it, because I am stronger than the pain, and my love is stronger than the negativity I have around me.

Since I am not really able to write, and because I want to remind myself that being positive is a choice, I will share with you a Blog Post I have written for a great Blog Echoes. My friend Samar invited me to write something for her Blog. This post Positive, Positive, Positive, was published on echoes on the 21st of April.

I am thinking positive. I decided it and I’m doing it!

When I sleep, it’s positive, I need to rest

When I don’t sleep, it is positive; I’m not running away from my problems anymore

When I eat it is positive, I got back my appetite

When I don’t eat it is positive, I will lose weight

When I cry it is positive, I can finally express my emotions

When I don’t cry it is positive, I’m strong enough

When I work it is positive, I keep myself busy

When I don’t work it is positive, I deserve some rest

When I’m calm it is positive, I’m not vulnerable anymore

When I’m not calm it is positive, I am learning to react

But why can thinking positive make me feel negative? 

My diary entry on September 16, 2007

I was diagnosed with severe depression at the age of 13. I was given treatment that I never took for longer than two or three months. My parents were in denial, and didn't believe I needed any treatment or any doctor's visit. Maybe they were right, I don't know, maybe I was never depressed, but I am sure that their reaction was not the good one to have. Telling me that the doctors are stupid, that nothing is wrong with me, that i'm just a "stupid owl " who enjoys sleepless nights and crying and complaining was certainly not the best way to deal with me. I have heard my father tell my mother so many times:" you throw her now in a madhouse, I don't want her home". All I wanted was to be home, to feel home, to be accepted at home.

Doctor's advice was always to take my medicine as prescribed, and stay positive, think positive, act positive, be positive, but without any further explanation. How can you ask a person living in hell to see the positive side of life, if you don't show her a good example? 

Negative facts of life can't be transformed. Your tears of sadness won't become tears of joy, the death of a loved one will never be a happy experience, BUT the secret is in accepting the bad as well as the good, accepting the hard times that come with the beautiful ones. Accept your life and live it to the fullest despite your problems.

Being positive is not deny what is negative, it's just living it and learning from it.