Wildflower Writes

Where can you be yourself? Is that a silly question? Isn’t it healthy to always be yourself? At work, I am not myself. I have to wear dress-up clothes and make-up to look professional. I have to say “good morning!” whether I believe it’s a good morning or not. I have to smile and nod even when someone asks me to do something I don’t want to do or don’t feel is my job to do. I have to bite my tongue when someone at the corporate level says or does something utterly ridiculous. When I say I have to do something, I mean I have to do it in order to keep my job, which happens to be a priority to me at the moment. I do believe everything is a choice in life. At church, I am more myself. I still try to make myself presentable. I feel I can be more sincere in my greetings, because I care more about the people there. I can be a little more honest about my desire or ability to take on new projects, although I hate to say no to anybody. I do struggle to let people know my true feelings… At club, ...

I wrote that last poem almost 10 years ago. I had just had a miscarriage, had failed to keep a church ministry alive, and could not find employment in my chosen career field. I know what depression is. I know what it’s like to feel like there’s no hope, that life hurts too much to continue forward. I know what it’s like thinking that others are better off without you. I had imagined all the ways to end it, but couldn’t find the strength to go through with it. There was also a spark of something within, probably God’s quiet spirit, that wouldn’t allow me to destroy something that He had created, as miserable and wretched as it seemed. This all comes back to me as I read about the life a young man who gave up the fight. From everything his co-workers express, he was bright, funny, warm, and kind. I wish I’d known him. I wish somehow some small voice could have let him know how much his life was cherished, how much he was loved and appreciated by everyone around him, before he made that f...