Living Proof

If you're like me who suffers with anxiety attacks, then you probably suffer from your mind constantly yapping away until your body starts feeling it physically. I've read so many self-help books and articles on how to "conquer anxiety" and how to "still your mind" -- but all of them held a similar message: meditate. Let's face it, most of us don't even have the time to sit down and have a cup of coffee, no less meditate. Some of us just can't get rid of all that chatter going on in our little noggins. It must be nice to live in some peaceful commune where all you do is meditate and practice the art of silence. But that's not reality. Our reality is here -- in this world -- with all the loud sounds, angry people, deadlines and children to take care of. We're swamped, and even if you're lucky enough NOT to be swamped, you are indeed, swamped with your thoughts. Even if you work from home like me, your mind can really throw a tantrum ...

She knew me the best. If you asked her to describe me, she would tell you that I'm quick to anger but also quick to forgive. Mom always knew I was somewhat of a tortured soul just trying to make sense of this messy life of mine. Everything in my life was pretty much inconsistent. At the age of 16, I watched both parents get raided by the FBI and arrested. It was at that moment when I decided to quit school, overhearing a teacher saying, "Those people should rot in jail for what they did," all the while knowing I was sitting in her classroom. I developed very bad acne and had to go on that vicious medication, Acutane. Everyone else called it vicious, I called it my lifesaver. I never wanted to look up at anyone, embarrassed that not one inch of my pale skin could be seen through the clusters of acne clumped onto my face. When the Acutane finally started working, so did I. I got a job at a pizzeria so that I could help out my mom, because my dad was in jail and his bank ac...

We're all so incredibly busy. It's a busy busy life with big responsibilities ahead of you. Life can get so hectic, that the only thing you get to do when you come home is eat, poop and go to bed. (That comma in there is very important.) Weekends are for relaxing, sleeping and binge watching Netflix. Work has taken precedence over everything: your family, your friends, God, and even time for yourself. There's no balance, no give, no relief in sight. Your child begs for your attention, but you're just too incredibly exhausted to even entertain the thought of playing outside with them or helping them with their homework. You have your own crap to deal with. Your child is desperately wanting to share their day with you, so that you'll be proud of their accomplishments, but they start realizing that they're talking to someone who is half asleep already. So they take their A+ test paper and tuck it back into their binder and walk upstairs defeated...and sad. It...

Science tells us that we only use 10% of our brain, while many religious and spiritual people believe that's where God resides -- in that 90% portion. Eckhart Tolle explains that you are NOT your mind. There is the Being (you as a spirit more or less) and then there is your mind. You can simply witness your mind when you're struggling with something to overcome negative reactions to certain situations. It kind of makes sense though, since we are mostly spirit, but our mind, our {carnal} state of being takes full charge sometimes. I think that's when we're separated from God. I've always wondered what makes a psychic or religious prophet gifted. There are some people who are mediums who can speak to the deceased, while there are others who can somehow predict the future. Some can read your mind. While I believe there are such things as mediums, religious prophets and psychics, I also believe there are false ones out there who either profit from it, or simply want a...

As I travel through this long road of learning how to deal with my grief, there've been many suggestions and advice given to me, to which I always appreciate. Many share their own heartbreaking stories to relate to me, while others sit and just say nothing. Sometimes, that's just what I need. The one thing I'm not really a fan of is when some people suggest certain medications, like benzos and valium to get over my grief. I have a doctor and he has given me anti-anxiety meds, and is highly against going on something else. I trust him. I don't want to pop a pill each time I shed a tear for Mom. It's healthy to cry. Don't tell me not to cry. And be careful when trying to comfort someone who lost the most important person in their life, like their mother if you didn't lose your own. It can come across as if you were just trying to pacify them. Grief is a tricky thing. It can come and go as fast as it came. The other day on my birthday, I was pretty much okay....

Every friendship is different. We acquire some friends by meeting them at events or through somebody else. We relate to them either by similar interests, or just relating because you are of the same culture and can share similar past stories and recipes. Whatever the connection is, it should be mutual, respectful and most of all -- a positive experience. Most of my friends were acquired through my childhood and school days. Anyone within the past decade or so are very few. I think it's safe to say that once you hit a certain age in life, you become more selective in who you want to spend your time with, and there's nothing wrong with that at all. For me, connecting with someone definitely means ZERO complications on any scale. It should be nothing but positive and edifying. Of course, you can definitely run into misunderstandings, and that's okay, but when it becomes a normal occurrence that your friend is constantly complaining about something you're doing or somethi...

Honestly, I don't know how I'm still alive today. I do contribute most, even all of my survival with praying to God every single morning and night. Whenever my mom would talk about "post mom" -- I couldn't even fathom the thought. "When I'm gone....yada yada yada," -- no...no...no. One evening, we were talking over a couple of drinks before dinner. She went on again about her "post mom" talk. I immediately interrupted her and said, "WHEN I'M gone....yada yada yada." The thought, the 'talk of it' was so traumatizing that I told her that if she ever left me I would just die, or worse off, kill myself. "Oh no you won't, mama! Promise me." She used to call all of her daughters, "mama" or "mommy." It was cute. I truly believed the worst would happen to me if she ever left me. I was praying to God a lot then too, but not as much as I do today...post mom. I hung onto God so tightly, tha...