AM Client Story "The State of My Life." by Angelina N.

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My Story

I must have been a really horrible person in a past life. I had a good upbringing… I didn’t have to go thru half the shit that people I’ve met had to go thru growing up… So why am I here? In this seemingly bottomless pit of despair? How did I end up here? Yes, I’m not an innocent bystander of my life, I know I’ve made some poor choices along the way, but really??   lost, homeless, tacoma, woman, struggle, pain, housing, resource I no longer have control of the vehicle I’m riding in. It’s come alive and taken it’s own roads. There’s no one steering, just an empty spot behind the wheel… So….why can’t I just slide over and take control again? What am I so afraid of?? It’s that I’m too weak. That I won’t have enough strength to veer back onto my course and instead, I’ll just jerk out of control and crash into a ravine. cold, lost, homeless, tacoma, woman, struggle, pain, housing, resourceCrumpled heaps of metal that will never be seen or heard from again… Wait… Is that really too far off from what it is anyway? Have I already careened into a void, all mashed up and broken, now fighting all heaven and earth just for some passerby to hear my cries of help?? But no one hears. No one comes to help. I’m in the middle of nowhere cuz this is where I took myself. I let this happen…didn’t make an effort to stop or change direction…in fact, I’m pretty sure I drew my own damn map! Complete with landmarks and road signs.

It looked great at first glance…all shiny matte finish and firm folded lines… But it didn’t reveal the sharp, angular turns, or the dark, looming mountain scape that almost assuredly consumes any light trying to creep in. And then I start to question…did the map conceal the terrain? Or have I added this mangled mess myself in a hasty attempt to “liven up my path”? I ponder this notion as I stare at my once beautiful path…it’s cherry blossomed trees, it’s green hills and wide valleys…lying tattered and faded before me.pregnant, lost, homeless, tacoma, woman, struggle, pain, housing, resource  I stare at it with intent; trying to stick HOPE, DREAMS, LAUGHTER and JOY back into it like a pin cushion. It doesn’t work. It never does. No matter how much glitter and pop I try to refresh it with, the images continue to fade. Greying and crumpling over time…this IS my road map. It’s what I’ve become. I have faded and greyed thru the years, as times of sadness and anger swarm lost, homeless, tacoma, woman, struggle, pain, housing, resource around me. I’ve run towards them with open arms, letting them consume me like the embrace of a passionate lover.

I’m no longer this girl I remember… The one with pigtails and a stethoscope, bragging about how I was going to be an amazing doctor. I would deliver future presidents and hierarchy, while coaching new moms on their breathing… No, I really don’t know where she went… Though I’m quite sure HE killed her and left her body to rot somewhere. Sad. She was unique and had flare. I do know, that she was uselessly replaced byashamed, lost, homeless, tacoma, woman, struggle, pain, housing, resource some robotic thing, that just did as she was told all day and all night, nearly breaking while she made sure everyone else was satisfied. She didn’t last long. He made sure of that. He left and took the solid floor beneath as he went. The robot stayed in bed for a month.

A new me came from that, (oh goody! Another one!). She’s fake from her head to her toes. Plastic smile and rosy cheeks, she is firm in her belief that LOVE will fix anything. That if she’s kind and forgiving and joyful, great and wonderful things will happen. And for some time…it appears that this is true. …I was actually HAPPY for a while…it was nice… But I am caught up in my confidence and I made a choice that, after many months of hoping and hurting, has brought me here. To this deep ravine. Where I lost control… Or maybe…I let it go? I’m tired of hurting. I’m tired of crying. I let go of the wheel… lost, homeless, tacoma, woman, struggle, pain, housing, resource Now I lay here alone, crumpled metal still smoldering, and I let the tears flow. I want to let go of this life and be free of my pain…it would be so easy… But I can’t…because amidst all of the sorrow and sadness, a gift was bestowed upon me… My child. My son. My angel. I can’t abandon that beautiful soul to this world. But I’m no good to him as a crumpled heap at the bottom of a canyon.

So what do I do now? Where do I begin to mend the broken pieces of me and be the mother he so deserves to have? I’m alone…I need help…I WANT help… Please… Can you help me??

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