Once again I ponder the question of existence.

I'm finding it difficult to begin any idea that might surface. What would be the point, I ask.

((((( Anne )))))

I hope you won't mind me sharing this.

I entered my story in Doc John's contest the night before it was closed for submissions. I'd thought about it when I first read his call out but decided it was too personal and people were sick of hearing my same sob story.

When I've doubted sharing my existence, my story, My T reminds me that "my words" will find their way to whoever needs to read them.

So I decided the night before final submissions, to write my words down. I emailed it to the Doc at 11:59 and submissions closed at midnight. I felt I had accomplished something.

Within a few days, some things happened here at PC that disturbed me. Tempers flared, feelings were hurt and I emailed the Doc and asked that he withdraw my story. Cuz what was the point of sharing my words? What was the point of being honest and open when trust was no where to be found.

My T and the Doc both said my story might help someone else who finds themselves with a similar situation, not feel so alone.

Or it might help a young girl who has no one to turn to, see that I lived through some rough stuff, and so can she.

I resubmitted it based on that thought process. That's what my days are for. Sharing my guts, so that I might heal and help others. (The support and thank you's I received through PM's was incredible.)

Your words are important Anne. You may not think so, but there is someone, somewhere, who is in the same place/pain you're in.

Someone, somewhere, right now, is reading about your struggles, your triumphs, your WORDS, Anne. Soon they may even see your drawings as you discover healing through your art.

Someone is thanking you silently for your courage in sharing your journey.

"Dark drumming rain hitting me in the face saying "go back out into the world. There is beauty to be found, even in the dirt."

That's what the days are for.