Look back to see what dreams have come true to realize that you never allowed yourself to dream. Have you allowed yourself to be what others want you to be? For the ransom of your true identity. Standing in the queue, to never be seen Systematically, hoodwinked Disdained by numbness
These are the feelings and emotions that insisted. I began writing as a form of healing. It was a distressing day when I knocked Roxanne's teeth out to defend my life from a woman who was set to kill me in front of my eleven-year-old son. Traumatized and on the edge of a nervous breakdown, I began pounding the keyboard.
Two months later, Manic Mama had taken on a life of its own. At 1600 pages and growing, the work insisted on reckoning with the world to show what actions tear down another and any future prospect of a happy family and building blocks for a bright future. When I began writing, I had no intentions of the material becoming a tool to help not only me but any others that might function in the dysfunctions that are created for us and around us. It has taken a long time for the healing to come and the sobbing to stop, and after four years of therapy and many years of maintaining the story so others could read it. The healing came and the tears stopped. I've come to realize that I have always loved my mother. It saddens my heart that she never could find what she truly needed or wanted in life.