Depressed~Advice

Dear I Am Not Defined,

Okay, ever since I started on WordPress, I’ve tried to find people and stories to encourage me to keep going in life. For the past few months, I’ve felt absolutely lost. What does that mean? Ever since I found that my will to continue has diminished significantly, it’s been a struggle every day to just do what I need to do. I know I have depression, and I’ve been getting treatment for it for a while…but after 7 years of being diagnosed with it, it has taken a large toll on my mindset. My family has gone through so much emotional hardships since then. We’ve done family therapy, we opened up, and we’ve become closer than ever.

As I get older, I started noticing that my family appears to think that I have this under control. They think I am getting better, that the problems aren’t that major. How am I supposed to tell them that I’ve been relapsing over the past 3 months? I tried talking about things with my friends, but I found only one of them understands completely, and I know she can’t handle everything I tell her because we’re in the same boat.

How can I keep myself from falling back into reclusive habits? I feel like if I tried to tell my family what was wrong, I would get blamed, in some way, for still feeling like this. I’m lost on how to approach this. Could the answer really be right in front of me, and I’m just scared to face it?

-Depressed

Dear Depressed,

You said that you and your family tried therapy, and that it worked really well for you then, so I wonder, have you tried it on your own? Have you talked to a therapist or counselor recently about your relapses? If you haven’t maybe it is time to. It sounds like you’re having hard time handling things on your own, so maybe you need some help right now. If you’re afraid of how your family will handle everything, talk to someone about it. Maybe they can help you find a good way to reach out.

If you really just want to talk to your family members about your situation, then maybe do it in baby steps. Maybe take them aside one at a time, and test the waters. Hint at possibly having some problems, and see how they react. They might surprise you, and be completely understanding. It sounds like your family really cares about you, having gone through such great lengths to get you help. I think you are probably thinking they will react badly, when they will most likely be understanding and try to help.

If it doesn’t go well trying to talk to your family, or they don’t react well when you test the water, maybe seek some support groups. There are a lot of people out there who suffer from depression, and I have no doubt that any search engine can give you numerous links.

If you’re afraid of withdrawing from the people around you, keep yourself from doing so. When you notice that you haven’t been out in a while, don’t be afraid to call up a friend or family member and make plans. The people around you may not understand what you’re going through, but they do still enjoy your company and want to be around you, so use it to your benefit. A good laugh with friends is severely underestimated when it comes to feeling down.

 I truly hope you find someone you can talk to, and don’t sink further into your depression. Remember that there is a light at the end of every tunnel, and no feelings will last forever. You can and will get through this. You have done so for seven years; it’s understandable that you are having a hard time. Everyone needs a break from trying so hard all the time. Just remember what you have in your life to be thankful for, and surround yourself with positive people who make you feel like yourself. I hope things get better!

-I Am Not Defined

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Preferential Husband~Advice

Dear I Am Not Defined,

How do I tell my husband that I’m on the verge of asking for a divorce because of the way he treats the kids? He’s not violent but his attitude is atrocious. He lectures the eldest while the youngest gets away with everything. Nothing my older son does is good enough, and it’s causing him to be depressed to the point he’s said he’s wished he were dead.

 -Preferential Husband

Dear Preferential Husband,

It must be so difficult to deal with your husband when he makes your kids feel like this. Have you tried talking to him about the negative impact it has on your children? I grew up with parents that treat my youngest sibling like he can do no wrong, and it really affected how I looked at the world as a child and even now as an adult.

Do you have any idea why he is so hard on your oldest child? Is he trying to get him to strive for more, and just approaching it the wrong way? Or does he really feel like your kid just doesn’t do anything right or well? Is he easier on your youngest for being the baby of the family? Or is he truly just preferential? I would try talking to him about his reasoning behind how he treats the children. If you feel like you can’t get through to him, or just need help, look into counseling. Maybe you need someone on the outside to help you both asses where you are at, and how you feel about things. No matter what, I would seek help for your oldest. Suicide is not a joke and should be taken seriously.

If he doesn’t have any good answers, or you have already tried talking to him or simply feel like you can’t, maybe you should get the divorce. Just be sure that this is really what you want, and that this is really what is best for you and your family. Before you suggest a divorce I would make sure that you have things in order. Divorces can get ugly and I would hate for you and your children to fall on hard times because you’re trying to get away from a bad situation. Do you have family or friends that you can lean on? Look to your support system for help, and maybe even talk to the people you trust the most before you decide to go through with this, and if you do, talk to them about what you should do next.

There is no happy way to go about a divorce. It is the end of something that was promised for life, but if it truly is a bad situation, you need to get out of it. If you feel that you can discuss a divorce safely with your husband, you should. Approach the situation calmly and rationally. Don’t be insulting, be honest, and don’t hash out things that don’t matter. It’s not a good time to accuse each other of wrong doing, it is simply a time to admit that you can’t do it anymore, and to find the best way to get out of it amicably.

I hope that you can find a good way to deal with your situation, whether it comes down to some deep conversation or divorce. I also hope that you will find someone for your oldest child to talk to. It can be so hard growing up, and feeling like you can do no right in your parents eyes. Get them some help before this situation gets worse. You should also take the time to let your oldest know what an amazing person you think that they are. Make sure to be encouraging and to remind them how much you love them, and commend them when they do well, so they don’t feel like their accomplishment’s go unnoticed. In the end you know what is right for you and your family, and I hope that good things will grow from this situation.

-I Am Not Defined

Authors Note:

Suicide is never the answer. It is a permanent solution to a temporary problem, and will not solve anything. If you or someone you know has had, or are having suicidal thoughts, I encourage you to find someone to talk to. Seek help. You are loved and unique, and the world needs you here. If you don’t think anyone cares, I do. I think the world is made of beautiful, unique, amazing people, and it would be a tragedy to lose anyone to such an unfortunate end.

International Suicide Prevention

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Confused~Advice

Dear I Am Not Defined,

I’m not sure if I’m asking for advice or what, but just I’m letting you know I admire what you’re doing, it takes a lot of guts. My brother was molested when he was younger, but he was living with my grandparents because my mom couldn’t handle him anymore. It was a retarded guy who lived in the nearby area, and more is being revealed as i get older. He’s all over the place emotionally and he decided drugs were the thing to help him, if not just get him through the day. There’s been a shift lately though, and he is clean and he feels better. He is seeing a psychiatrist to find some meds that can help him feel normal again. He’s been diagnosed with bipolar/borderline personality disorder, all sorts of other things. It makes sense, but he was just a boy trying to figure out what was wrong with him, and he tried every method available. He just tried negative ones, and they all lead him to one addiction or another. The only trouble he got in were cries for attention, like going to rehab, or getting some woman to pay a train ticket to Montreal, where she would wire him money, and he could party for a while. He got to Montreal and didn’t have a photo id, so he couldn’t get the money, and was stuck there without a dime. He was 16, but the adventures he’s been on, and the quest he’s been out for was to feel good. He just wanted to feel good, so i could never stay mad at him for long when he didn’t get along with us. He was violent when he was younger, he did live with us off and on, but it was too late, and the damage was done. I don’t think he ever felt accepted. I tried telling him, to do what he had to do, but I’m always here for him, and I always have been. He’s been there for me too. I hope this time around he sticks to his guns, and stays positive when things get tough. Life is harsh sometimes, but it doesn’t have to be bad, or stay that way. When i was a bit younger, maybe 5 years ago, I went for a mental evaluation, to see if there was anything wrong with me. Sure i smoke pot, and had dabbled with mushrooms and acid, but my plight was different. I knew there was something wrong, something holding me back, but i couldn’t put my finger on it. I told them about my brother, and that i thought it may have happened to my sister. I’m pretty sure it never happened to me, but what if it did? And, why them and not me? I mean, I feel emotionally messed up as well, but my luck has been great in comparison between my siblings, I’m the middle kid and sometimes the oldest, but emotionally, i was like everybody’s father, making sure they weren’t doing anything too stupid or hurting themselves or anyone else. I blame my mum for a lot of the shit now, how negligent she was, and a recovering alcoholic. Now I’m just starting to think she switched from alcohol to her meds. There’s a lot of stuff she did not prepare us for. I’m father myself, and had my family split up because I was so scared the same thing was going to happen. I shut down, and broke down trying to manage my depressed-prone wife, and my own shit. I couldn’t take it. We fought all the time, nothing violent, just yelling and emotional hurt, so i left until things calmed down. I didn’t know what was going to happen, but my wife decided to go back to her hometown with our daughter. I obliged, and let them go. I think I was not able to handle a family because i lacked any sort of emotional experience. I didn’t know how to deal with them properly, and my wife struggled to get better. She strangled me emotionally, and i broke down before I became violent. As soon as the urge to starting hitting something comes up in me, I run away. I’ve seen drunken abuse from my mum’s boyfriends and my brother; i didn’t need to be like that. I always think of my daughter, and she’s my reason to keep going. I want a better life for her, and i hope she’s a lucky one, like me, so that she can help others who need it. I think we all have certain traumas brought into our lives, but it’s how we deal with it that counts. It’s our actions and reactions, not losing control and knowing that life is good, things will turn out ok. Thank you for letting me know that you know it too, and that you’re doing what you can to help those who can’t talk about past traumas, thanks again, you’re doing great :)

 -Confused

Dear Confused,

First I want to tell you that your brother is very lucky to have such and understanding, loving sibling. It is very hard to watch someone you love destroy their lives with addictions and emotional issues, and it is even harder to be there for them when they fall.

It sounds like you carried a lot of weight on your shoulders as a child. It can be very stressful always being the “parent” sibling. It takes a lot of effort to make sure that the people around you are taken care of, and I am sure you didn’t have as much time to worry about yourself. Acting as a caregiver can really force you to grow up, and see the world in a different light. Maybe you were robbed of your childhood because of this?

It also seems like you grew up in a world where things seemed fairly out of control, which might cause you to act more controlling in your adult life. It seems like you have a handle on your anger, in a sense that you know when you need to get away, but have you figured out why you are so angry? Maybe if you can get to the root of your anger, you will be able to get a better hold on it, and not always have to flee?

It sounds like getting help has done a lot for your brother, maybe you need someone to speak to, an impartial person who can just listen while you get it all out. Bringing things to light, and understanding them can do amazing things for the soul. Just because your brother and sister had different traumas then you, doesn’t make yours are less important. You still had to grow up under the same circumstances, with the same people.

Maybe your wife having issues was too hard on you, after growing up with your siblings, and always having to help them. Was it too much to have that in your marriage as well? If you’re not emotionally stable in your own mind, you will never be able to help someone else get or stay emotionally stable. Maybe you both need someone to talk to.

At the very least you seem able to clearly see where your upbringing was flawed, and now that you have a daughter of your own you can do you’re very best to make sure that she is brought up differently. Things may or may not get better with your wife, but you have to come to terms with yourself before the two of you will really be able to hash it out. It sounds like you have a very good head on your shoulders, and I think you can do really well and go far. Turn your experiences into something better, and grow from them. I really think you can figure this out, and feel better about yourself and your life. I’m sure times are hard, but they will get better!

-I Am Not Defined

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Advice/Questions

Thanks to the amazing comments and feedback I’ve received about my posts, I have decided to create an Advice/Questions page. I don’t promise to have all the answers, but I will do my very best do give solid advice, and answer questions honestly. I’ve experienced so much in my life, and it would mean so much if I could help other people! I’ll take your questions about life and just about anything you have gone through, or are going through, thanks so much for taking the time to fill out the cool form I made :)

Please feel free to head that way and fill out the nifty little questionnaire I made! Then make sure to check back often for updates, or FOLLOW us! I can’t do this without your help and participation. I need you to help me get this started, without your stories, and questions I can’t get this off the ground!

Please give it a go and maybe you will be the first person I get to write to!

Thanks,

I am Not Defined

Your name will remain completely anonymous if you take part!

Advice/Questions-go here to fill out the form and seek advice :)

Advice:

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You Could Be So Pretty

Middle school wasn’t as easy for me as elementary school was. I was capable of getting good grades but I stopped applying myself. I was still somewhat active in school activities, and I was involved in a few clubs. I had a few friends, all awkward like myself.

Several of the kids I grew up with also went to middle school with me, but it wasn’t necessarily a good thing. When popularity became important to many kids, others were left behind. Several of the kids I grew up with were part of the popular crowd, and very quickly created a distance between me. Being associated with an unpopular kid isn’t very socially acceptable in the power struggle known as middle school.

I struggled with kids that made fun of me. I often wore my brother’s hand me down clothes and never acted very girly, so the other girls loved to make fun of my clothing and hair, and lack of any style what-so-ever. It was difficult to feel like I mattered or was worth something. I thought that if so many people said the same mean things, they must be right, and I really was just a loser. I had that mindset for a very long time.

My parents started to get frustrated with me when my grades started slipping. My mom just couldn’t understand why I didn’t work harder. She told me that my life was so easy, and that I needed to stop being lazy. I started feeling like no matter what I did, I wouldn’t impress them, I used to get good grades, and they didn’t care so much then?

Some of the girls who lived on the street were popular, and a year older then I was. I had been friends with them for a while, and we hadn’t gone to school together until then. I went to them and talked about the problems I was having at school and with my family. They told me they would help me, but I couldn’t talk to them at school, or everyone would know they were helping. I was obviously a pretty gullible child, and thought they had a great idea, and would really help me out.

One night the girls decided to doll me up and take me out. I remember them telling me I would be so pretty if I wasn’t so fat. Some friend’s right? I thought it was a compliment and tucked away the fat part for later thought. I let them put make-up on me, and do my hair, it all went really well until we tried to find something I could wear. These girls were tiny, and I had some meat on my bones, so everything they tried to put me in looked terrible. Every time I looked in the mirror packed into one outfit or another, my heart broke a little. I felt huge. I had never felt like there was anything wrong with my body before then. Clearly I was wrong if I couldn’t fit into anything cute right?

I ended up wearing some silly wrap dress that would accommodate my size. We had a fun night in the neighborhood, hanging out with other kids we grew up with. I was just the girl they brought along, that sat quietly out-of-the-way while the popular kids were hanging out. I still felt pretty and I thought I had a good time. It’s funny what you can convince yourself of as a kid.

After the girls made me over that night, I felt like a different person. Not because I looked different on the outside, but because I felt like I was finally starting to see myself. I thought I was a fat, ugly girl, with no friends. For years after this I struggled with image issues, I still do.

I know they probably meant well with their comments, and make over, but it only reminded me how different I was compared to them. I started comparing myself with other people I looked up to, and I felt like I always fell so short. Why couldn’t I be pretty, thin, and have friends too?

I know so many beautiful women who have some serious issues about how they look, or how big they are. It is so sad to think that society helps beautiful people feel validated by putting down people who are different. People come in all shapes and sizes for a reason, and no one should ever make another person feel like they are not just as beautiful as anyone else.

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Talk Show Circus

Most people watch talk shows on TV and wonder where they got the crazy people who argue and make fools of themselves for entertainment. As it turns out we were those crazy people.

My foster-brother attended a foster support group every week, where other kids in foster situations would meet up, and hash out their issues. Somehow one of the agents for a New York based talk show got in contact with the leader of this group, and wanted to use one of the “troubled teens” and their family on his show. The leader helped him get in contact with a foster kid, and her family, who agreed to do the show. At the last minute the family decided not to do it, and the agent still had a spot to fill. For one reason or another my brother was the one they decided would be perfect, and the next day we were flown off to New York, and picked up in a stretch limo.

The show was going to be about a group of teenagers who are out of control, and are forced to spend one day in jail. The show would be taped over two days, and the teenagers would spend one night in jail, and hopefully have a lifesaving moment where they decide to be better people.

The first day of taping arrived, and we were picked up from our hotel in a limo, and taken to the television studio, where we were put in a little sitting room. My parents and my brother went through makeup, and my siblings and I were escorted out to the audience to watch the show. They paraded several families in front of the talk show host, each with an out of control teenager, who would come on stage fully pumped and ready to argue. The producers sat backstage with the kids before they went on, and told them to be angry, and to tell their parents how they really felt, and to really let it all go.

When my family came on, my brother came out all puffed up and pissed off, and my mom cried about how she loved him so much, but he was just out of control. My dad sat there and agreed, and my brother let it all out. He talked about how he didn’t love anyone, and how he had no real family, and said some fairly hurtful things. I was only about 11 at the time, and got very upset to hear my brother say all of this, I felt betrayed, like he didn’t love me as a sister, or feel like we were family. I didn’t understand that he had been riled up before they went on air, and I got pretty upset. Apparently crying little sisters make for good ratings, because before I knew it, the cameras were on me and a producer with a microphone walked over and asked why I was crying. I explained that my brother had upset me, and how I loved him like a brother even though we weren’t related, blah blah blah.

After the show finished taping the first talking segment, the kids were escorted off to some local prison. The show gave the impression that they were there over night, and learned some lessons from hard criminals. In reality they went to the jail, taped the necessary segments, and then took the kids out to dinner.

The next day we taped the last sit down segment. The families were paraded once again, and the kids came out more docile than before, with promises to do better. They all apologized to their parents and swore off their trouble making. My brother came out and apologized to my parents, and took the time to call me from the audience and apologize to me. He told me that he loved me as a sister very much, and didn’t mean the things he had said. Even though it was just a talk show moment, it did mean a lot to me. I was a kid and he was my older brother, and I looked up to him.

Having a foster-brother really changed my understanding about what made a family. I’ve come to believe that a family isn’t just made of blood related people, but also of the people a family absorbs into their home and heart. I think over time even friends can become family. If you’ve been close with a friend for more than half your life, could you say they don’t know you better than your own family? Or love you just as much? How can you really define what makes a family?

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A Difficult Christmas

I was very close to my grandparents growing up. I was lucky enough to have two grandfathers and a grandmother around for my childhood. One of my grandfathers, my “Papa” was an alcoholic.

When I was younger, I didn’t really understand words like drunk, alcoholic, sobriety etc. I didn’t understand what people meant when they would talk about my Papa and his drinking problems. To me he was just my Papa. I loved going to visit him, he lived in his trailer on an orange orchard, and there was always plenty of room for whatever outdoor fun we could imagine.

To me, my Papa was a hardworking man, a little rough around the edges, but he was always friendly and loving. We didn’t get to see him a lot, I have a feeling my mom didn’t want us to see him drunk. He would occasionally show up at holidays or family functions. I remember being excited several times because I thought he was coming to see us, and even as a child my heart broke when he couldn’t make it. I didn’t understand why he was always “sick” and couldn’t spend time with us.

A few times my Papa got so “sick” that his body just wouldn’t hold up to the abuse. He would come over and stay with us for a while to sober up, and help his body get better. He was never there for very long, but I remember loving it when he would come to stay.

On Christmas Eve one year when I was in elementary school, my Papa was expected as usual, but unsurprisingly he didn’t call or show up. The Christmas Eve festivities went on as usual, and no one really thought anything of it. Later that night my mom tried to get ahold of him, to wish him a merry Christmas, but got no answer. I am not sure who found him or how, but my grandfather was found on Christmas morning, behind his trailer. He had passed away.

My parents explained to us that our Papa was gone, and we did the best we could to grieve, and continue on with our lives. After that, I didn’t put much thought into my grandfather’s passing, I knew he was gone and it was left at that.

My mother sat me down one day, and told me that she needed to tell me the truth about Papa. I was very confused about what she was talking about. She told me that my Papa had gotten very drunk on Christmas Eve before he died, and he had taken himself out behind his trailer and committed suicide. My whole world spun a little, and I didn’t know what to say. She made the situation much worse with her reasons for finally telling me the truth.  Apparently she was afraid my older brother (the one who ran away), was going to tell me the real reason my Papa was gone, to turn me against my parents, and decided to beat him to the punch. So in one happy afternoon, I not only learned that my grandpa shot himself, but I learned that my mom liked to one-up my brother…classy.

I can honestly say that I was very bitter at my parents for hiding something like this from me. I was even more upset that my mom somehow thought my jail-bird brother would be able to get the message to me, and that I would believe him. As I got older, I came to the conclusion that I wish my parents would have either A) not told us in the first place, why would you put that on a child? Or B) Told us when we were a reasonable age and capable of handling such weight, and not under such crappy circumstances.

I sometimes wonder if he would still be around, had he decided not to end his life. I wonder if the people who choose this ending think about the people they leave behind. I wonder if the think of the holidays, birthday parties, weddings, and special occasions that their presence will be terribly missed at. Sometimes I am bitter that he gave up these moments because he didn’t want to be around, but then I remember how sick he was. Having suffered addiction problems myself, I know how hopeless and horrible it can all seem. I will still always miss him, and I will always wish he could be there, in body, for all the amazing moments I have been fortunate enough to live, but I hope he has at least found peace.

Authors Note:

Suicide is never the answer. It is a permanent solution to a temporary problem, and will not solve anything. If you have had, or are having suicidal thoughts, I encourage you to find someone to talk to. Seek help. You are loved and unique, and the world needs you here. If you don’t think anyone cares, I do. I think the world is made up of beautiful, unique, amazing people, and it would be a tragedy to lose anyone to such an unfortunate end.

If you need someone to talk to:

The International Suicide Prevention Wiki

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Runaway

Growing up in my home wasn’t always easy. My older siblings had some problems that caused a lot of drama in our lives. My oldest brother was a pathological liar and had some mental issues. In simple terms, it meant that when he lied about something, which he did often, he truly believed he wasn’t lying. He could convince himself that what he was saying was true, and then get upset because no one believed him. You could watch him do one thing, and then tell you point-blank he did another, and truly believe he was being honest. I can’t imagine what it was like for him growing up, but I do know how it affected me.

Many nights were filled with drawn out arguments, my parents knowing my brother was lying, and him believing he was telling the truth. I have watched my mother practically throw my brother’s things out the door one evening, and hold onto him, begging him to stay the next. It was very confusing as a child, to see all of this play out. My brother also had some violent tendencies as well as drug problems. It was always scary when he would lose control when my dad wasn’t home. I remember seeing my mom pinned behind a door a few times, and they had to take away his bats and hockey sticks.

One year when I was about 8 or 9, I had a very nice birthday party at the park. It was a beautiful day to be outside, I had great friends, and I got all the toys I had asked for. The only problem was that my dad and brother were missing. I remember pulling into our driveway after the party, and hearing a loud argument. I guess my dad and brother had gotten into it that day. It was so bad that my mom ran inside to get our things, and we stayed at a Motel 6 for a few nights. It wasn’t the first or last time we would have to stay somewhere else because my brother was out of control.

On nights that we did stay home through the arguments, I would hole myself and my brother up in my room, and we would watch TV loudly. Some nights the police were called by neighbors, other nights by my parents. My brother ran away a few times, and eventually he didn’t come home. I know that he eventually landed himself in jail. The only reason we found out he was there, was because he decided to write to my parents. Unfortunately they were not happy letters. They were often filled with violence and threats, and denial of any familial ties. It was a big rift in my family, and to this day we have nothing to do with him. I do know that he is alive and well, but I haven’t gone down the road to reunion.

My memories aren’t exactly happy.

I had a hard time understanding why my parents dealt with my brother the way they did. Couldn’t they see that he just didn’t get it? I didn’t like arguing as a kid and I still don’t as an adult. It makes me feel sick to my stomach and like the world is falling out from underneath me. After seeing my family argue so well when I was younger, I avoided confrontation as a teen, and it didn’t do me much good. Bullies are still bullies, even when you walk away. And yes, they will hit you from behind.

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In The Beginning

I am 24 and I am a mom. Most people don’t see past their preconceived notions of a young mom, to see that I am so much more. I have made many mistakes in my life but the road that finally led me here was a bumpy but happy one. My 9 month old daughter truly is the light of my life, and I can only be thankful that I made it to this point. There were many times in my young adulthood that I did not expect to see the next day. I think I often believed that there was no way I would make it to my mid 20’s let alone through another week with myself. Growing up in my shoes had its difficulties, and I quickly grew to be my own worst enemy. For many years I dabbled in drugs and bad decisions. I neglected to care about myself and the people around me. For years I used whatever drugs I could get my hands on to numb my feelings and thoughts. I didn’t want to feel, or have to think, or handle reality.

I know there are millions of people out there who choose to use and abuse substances over living their lives, and for many years, I thought they had the right idea. I in no way condone drug use, I have been down that road and I can tell you endless stories about the stupidity and bad decisions involved in drug abuse. I have driven friends away, watched people die, and nearly killed myself in an endless quest for what? A better high? I hope for a chance to share some of my stories and memories in a format easily accessible to other people with a past.

I strongly encourage any readers to share their own stories. If you felt you could relate to something I have said, please feel free to share. I hope for this to be a place for free flow of thought without judgment. I know that so many people out there have a colored history, but I also know that we are the people we are meant to be because of the experiences, and lessons we live through. I personally believe that we go through all the things that we do, so we can be better equipped to handle situations later on. An easy example of a life lesson? Put your hand on a hot stove, after you burn it the first time I doubt that you will put your hand back, or any other body part for that matter. Life is just a series of lessons accumulating and turning you into the person you are. I plan on laying out several of my own personal life lessons, with hope that someone out there can relate, learn, or enjoy my personal stories.

I am not defined by the person people see when they look at me. I am defined by the way I have lived my life, the decisions and mistakes I’ve made, the consequences I have lived through and the way I have handled the hurdles life has thrown my way.

© I Am Not Defined, 2012. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited.

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