i dint know a title.

Next month ill be 25. A quarter of a century.

You don’t think that’s old, huh? Yea, me either- really. Not until you factor in all things that I do. It’s hard to think of yourself as being young still, when you spent the better part of your twenties worrying. Stressing. Wondering. Regretting. Hoping. Then Losing hope. When you’ve spent the better part of your twenties wondering what you did and why’d you do what you did. Then blaming yourself, because ya know, everything is your fault. Then you sit and wonder and all you’ve done with your life and you realize that is completely and utterly, jack-shit. You haven’t done a thing, you haven’t accomplished a thing at all. You realize you’re harder on yourself than anyone else could ever be, and you’re even hard on yourself for being so hard on yourself. For being a high school drop out, beauty school was a bust, spencerian was a ridiculous attempt at a worthless degree, you work at a dead end job with no future in it. You’re hard on yourself because you need medicine, and a shoulder to cry on so consistently. Then, I woke up. I don’t care anymore. I love the path I am on, because I know I am on the exact path I need to be to make me the person I was meant to be. I am a proud high school drop out with a 3.4 gpa. I’m a proud spencerian drop out with a 3.98 gpa. Me not being able to finish school just yet doesn’t have anything to do with my intelligence, just that I was ahead of my path and that’s not where I needed to be just yet. I’m intelligent, I know that. You know what else I know now? It’s okay to be on medicine. I’ve been ashamed of it for the better part of 10years, and I’m not anymore. I have a chemical imbalance in my brain that I cannot control. I’m bipolar, manic depressive, and I take medicine. And that’s okay. I’m okay with that now. I am okay with that now. Want to hear it again? I’m okay with the fact that I need medicine to function. You know what else I know? I’m a good mother. I lose my patience, I yell at times and she drives me nuts sometimes. I never said I was a perfect mother. My daughter is intelligent, beautiful, funny and caring. I think I’m doing a good job as a mother, and I’m raising a good kid. Because you know what? I’m a good mom.