In celebration of Thanksgiving, I wish to dedicate this journal-entry
to all of those whom I love, whom love and support me, and to the folks at
Modcloth for their wonderful contest!
[link]

It was when I had just reached 10 years old that my father
left our world in a most horrific manner,
and left the rest of my family broken into pieces..
Afterward, a man tried to replace him for several years,
but only succeeded in breaking us apart even further..
You see, my father had suffered from mental illness and,
by this point, I was already exhibiting symptoms of having inherited his illness.
Of course, my family did not wish to see the similarities as, you can imagine,
it was too painful to think about..
Non-the-less, I caused much dismay amongst them as it was perceived that I
brought shame upon our family by behaving unusually abnormal.
Once I discovered the truth behind my father's death,
in that it was suicide and not accidental, emotions flooded
my mind and my senses became clouded with fear and anxiety.
Yet my family still ignored the signs and ran from our past,
denying the pain that haunted our dreams and reality.
It was around this time that I met a boy..
He was a very awkwardly silent boy who towered above our classmates,
stood face to face with our elders, and offered shelter from the ruthless
emotional bombardment that I endured.
Yet even with his gentle and quiet nature, he saw through the irregularities
and prejudices of our authority and
refused to allow himself to be abused.
He was seen as a rebel and a threat, despite his passivity,
because he would not allow people to mistreat himself or his loved ones..
I took comfort in this and drew strength from his courage.
Regardless, the abuse and pain in my household was still
very prevalent
and increased because of my newly adopted rebellious attitude.
I had become so tired...so exhausted of thinking, of wondering what could have been,
why I was, and why everything about me was thought to be so wrong..
Why couldn't I be normal? Happy? Why did my step-father say the things he did?
Why did he hurt us so? Why did my father leave us.............
One day I tried to end my life..tried to end the pain....
That boy was there to stop me.
He saved my life by literally pulling me from the brink of oblivion.
That same boy is now a man, and has been saving my life everyday since that day.
I have an illness but he sees me as a
person and not as a disorder, a victim, or a statistic.
He believes me to be strong and determined, but he doesn't understand that it
is
him (and always has been him) that gives me that strength to keep moving.
I love him from the depths of my heart, and I am so very
very thankful
for every waking moment I am allowed to share my life with him.
I love you Brandon.







I also love each and every one of my friends and those who support me in any fashion.
Thank you all so much for the

s,

es, donations, and commissions!

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Donations and/or Commissions are
very welcome!!
Go here to
donate>>>>
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My Portfolio
Katie Franke
Traditional Art Gallery Moderator
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