life, love,art. heart failure and assorted ramblings

life, love,art. heart failure and assorted ramblings

Don't Talk Like That...

I write to find out what my heart thinks....

I write to expose and work through the ugly parts of this raunchy disease. My words always help me understand that in this life there will be times that are crappy painful and unexpected but tucked in there are the amazingly wonderful, too. That is when I realized the only control I have over any of this is how I chose to experience them! I realized that I could understand, celebrate can survive even better when I could express these feelings with my own words of courage, humor, and grace. I am the Queen of my own life and the choice is mine!

I am here to celebrate my life, to uncover my fears, to hold on to love, to grieve my losses, to laugh long and hard, and to learn how to live a full magnificent life with heart failure.

I am honoring my creativity, and exploring all of my emotions out loud ...before anyone can say....."Don't talk like that!"



Monday, July 3, 2017 also bites me in the ass!

The crashes are the parts of me I want to share but are hardest to talk about or let people in when I’m experiencing them.  Some of it is because words cannot begin to express it, but also because it involves showing the unedited insecure parts of me.  It involves exposing my embarrassment, my shame…it involves being vulnerable. Lifting the veil of “I can do this” and asking for help is so hard. I am not good at being vulnerable and when it comes to my heart, I frequently squirm and change the subject or joke about it.  Part of me feels as though I have failed….. at life.

When writing here…. I might share a bit of my experience …but I never say as much as I need to, and rarely do I allow myself to be honest with you. I suspect, in some ways, it keeps me from being really honest with me, too. My heart failure happens in private and what I allow others to see is only part of me. The part of me that people see is the happy, smiling, in control me and it is still very much me, but it isn’t all of me. I have a mask I wear when I feel vulnerable and exposed. The mask is my lifeline when I am uncomfortable.
But it also bites me on the ass when I want to feel seen, heard and understood. 
"Strip Me" Natasha Bedenfield

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