Sometimes it seems like a dream when you lose everything. Or, at least, that’s what I have felt within the past forty-eight hours. Having to walk away is tough, but walking away and never looking back? Perhaps the scariest decision of my life. But I’m grateful I made that decision. I’m grateful that I was smart enough to know I wasn’t cared for. Since I’ve walked away, I’ve had significant improvement in my life, even within just two days.

But not all of it can be happiness and improvement. Sometimes I have nightmares about everything – I have since I was a child. Very little, four or five years old when the nightmares began. Now in my early twenties, I’m sure they nightmares will never go away. But there’s a way you can go with nightmares: you can turn it into something good. And what do I turn my nightmares into?


I take my greatest nightmares, my deepest fears, and I turn them into stories that I will later write into novels. I have endless story ideas; endless nightmares to write. I’m also an artist and as I learn to paint (I’ve always been a colored pencil artist), I intend to paint my nightmares as well. Endless stories to write and endless paintings to paint. But that excites me rather than giving me the anxiety that I usually anticipate when I have a lot to do.

I always felt that it was extremely difficult to write, even though writing was and is as vital as breathing for me. Still, those stories that I tell where I turn the characters into aspects of myself and relive those twisted tricks of my own mind are incredibly hard to write. It’s hard to open up. I don’t know that I’ve ever done it. I don’t know that I will for a long time. It’s been a rough two years. But enough about that.

I know that I’m going to be an author. I fully intend to start my own publishing company, and I fully intend to publish my books myself. I intend to create the covers myself, and print them myself, and then make sure they’re on shelves. I’ve always been a bit of a business woman at heart, with unmatchable ambition. In any relationship I have, I have enough ambition for an army. It’s something that I like; an aspect about myself that I appreciate, which is rare.

But the point I’m trying to get to is this: I feel as though I’m a caterpillar, ready to transform. I’ve always worried and felt inferior to everyone else. I thought it was my fault, until I realized it wasn’t. It’s the fault of the people around me. Being around the wrong people and being put down all the time can be excruciating. But it’s at this moment that I ask myself when I began to fail noticing the mean and sly comments. When did I stop noticing and understanding that people didn’t like me? When did their care for me turn to malice, and when did I forget what it felt like to be cared about? I don’t know. But I do know this: through everything, the one thing that has never let me down  is writing and art, in all forms of the term. Art and writing – whether it be music or dance or writing a novel – has always been there for me. It has given me the ability to tell how I truly feel in a productive and beautiful way. I believe that pain can be a very beautiful thing, if turned into something worthwhile and easy to understand and relate to.

Things aren’t always black and white, and the people that you’ve known since birth turn on you. Perhaps that’s why I always had nightmares about being at the homes of my childhood friends, dying or getting hurt. Perhaps that’s why I always feared for myself when I was around them. Not physically but emotionally. Perhaps that’s what caused my depression to spiral downwards. And maybe that’s what lead me to write this post here, today.

I think that everything happens for a reason. I truly, truly believe that. And coincidence might as well be as fictional as Edward Cullen, in my mind. Thank goodness. (No offense to the Twi-hards out there).

But as I grow older and as days go by and realize that things aren’t simple and never black and white I begin to see things more clearly than I ever have before. It’s like the fog that I spoke of just a few days ago has began to disperse, and I’m finally understanding what put me in that fog in the first place. And as I realize this, I realize something else: writing is probably the one and only true friend I will ever really have.

I’m alright with that. I’m okay with the idea of only having writing for myself, because I’m tired of being destroyed. I knew from the beginning that gaining success in the field of entertainment would lead to a very lonely life, but I am naturally a loner. It’s in my blood. I’m the person that watches everything, observes, and then walks away without saying anything. I’d pass up any party or gathering in order to write, paint, sketch, read a book…or whatever. I will pass up the things that have brought me nothing but pain in order to reach the things that have always been my passion, and as I do so, I will understand more and more the value of being alone. I will treasure more and more the person that I am, my alone time, and the things that I hold dear to my heart. I’m probably one of the biggest Michael Jackson fans out there, so I definitely care about him and have a lot to say about how he was treated during his life. Though someday, I intend to make it to that point. Not the point of no return when it comes to destroyed friendships, but at the top of the entertainment industry. I did say that I have enough ambition to sustain an army!

Yes, I want to be there someday, but I’m not conceited enough to believe that I’m entitled to it. I know that I’m going to have to work for it. I’m going to have to work darn hard for it. But something as simple to me as striving for a goal and reaching that goal makes it easy in my mind, and I believe that as I strive for that goal, things will fall into place. I don’t believe in coincidence, though I am religious. I believe in God. And I know that He watches over me. There is no other way I could have lived through numerous open heart surgeries as a child.

But I digress.

In my life, I strive for one thing: to leave the imprint of myself on this world. However that happens – through humanitarian work, through the entertainment industry, or just through being a simple blogger, I fully intend to make sure that people know I’m here. And as they do, I will fulfill my second goal: making a difference in this world.

Sometimes striving for the impossible is exactly what you need to do in order to achieve the simplest things in life. And knowledge of that is what keeps me going every single day.


2 thoughts on “Goals

  1. Would it be okay for me to say, I see you. I hear your heart. You can do anything you set your mind to which I know is cliché, but I think it’s true. But what I knwo more than that is that, nothing is impossible with God. ❤

    Liked by 1 person

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