I fall down, I get back up.
You push me down, still I rise.
I fall down, I scramble upward.
You push me down,
I am tired,
I decide to lay for awhile.
Eventually...I get back up.
Over and over again
A dizzying mix of up and down,
forming a circle I can't free myself from.
Where I'm falling is irrelevant.
Why I'm falling, hard to pinpoint.
It's the getting back up that matters.
Resiliency becomes me.
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This summer I became the mother of a beautiful 16 yr old harlequin Macaw, Harley. Within a week, my arms looked like I'd had a cutting... -
When parenting the chronically mentally ill, one is, in many ways, a passenger on a roller coaster. It's full of highs and lows, twists ...
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Mud You, You see me with mud covered glasses, feel me with shaky hands, love me with missing pieces, and reach for me with broken arms....
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