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About the Embrace

My name is Erin de Blois. I’ve started this blog to gather my thoughts, poetry, short stories, and quite honestly anything that I just feel like writing.

My writing comes from life experiences. From the weird playground inside my mind. And from my own personal view on life, love, and the world overall.

I call these little blurbs my Soul Words. Because every line – for better or worse – comes from The very depths my soul.

This is me. Raw. Unedited. In ink.

If you like what you see, follow me. Drop me a note. Don’t be a stranger. If it’s not your thing, don’t feel pressured to stick around. But please feel free to still drop me a note with your insight.

To The Damned

I watched you die
Grow cold inside
Curl and waste
Away

Too many times
You tried to find
And exit from
Your stay

You wilted and you rotted
A beast with sallow flesh
Pretending that you didn’t have
A heart beneath your breast

But as you laid
A tortured shell
Paltry putty on
my lap
I saw your light
Your inner life
And prayed you would
Come back

Desperate pleas
From sullen speech
A sultry night gone wrong
But oh if they could
See you now
They’d know that you belong

To havens skies
And untold lies
And songs that
Sold the sun

And oh…
You were the one.

A sweet betrayal; A humble sigh
And all that went so wrong
Foretold the truth; the bitter fate
Of lovebirds losing song.

~written on March 12, 2021
By Erin de Blois

The Raven’s Song (Part Two)

A Raven drew
Me into bliss
Condemning me
With true love’s kiss

It flew into
My desperate heart
With blackbird wisdom
And cunning art

Sharing trinkets
Jewel and gem
Embroidered into
Stitch and hem

The wicked blackbird
Sang it’s song
And danced until
I danced along

This Raven drew me
With his eyes
Stole my breath
With blackbird lies

Oh to be
This birds delight
And catch the ray
Of Raven’s sight

For Raven’s heart
Is hard to hold
As off he flies
To fields of gold

Blessed be
The Raven’s Song
Twisting visions
All night long

But ne’er a sweeter
Song you’ll sing
Than the one sung by
My Raven king.

~written by Erin de Blois
February 5, 2021

The Raven’s Song

A raven stirred

Within my heart

Engaging me

With love and art

—–

This bird took nest

Inside my home

And stayed until

I was his own

—–

Mesmerized

And cast a spell

And reshaped the place

I used to dwell

—–

Brought me stones

And pretty gems

All intertwined

With flower stems

—–

Taught me speech

And gave me flight

And kept me warm

Into the night

—–

Into the raven’s eyes

I’m drawn

To settle in

Until the dawn

—–

Upon my head

I wear its crown

Black bird feathers

And a feather gown

—–

To be the queen

Of raven’s plight

To dance the blackbird’s

Souls delight

—–

I watched it’s shadow

Upon my wall

Graceful echoes

Of each nights fall

—–

And then I woke

To find a nest

Turned; abandoned

By bed rest

—–

Foolish me

To sleep away

While cunning blackbirds

Fly away

—–

But ne’er shall I

Forget the song

The raven sang

The whole night long.

———————–

~Written by Erin de Blois

January 9, 2021

Why Bother

Why waste my breath

On ears that won’t hear

Why sort the mess

For those that disappear

Why take a break

When a break just breaks me

And all those opposed

Just scatter and flee

Why sip the cup

That can never be filled

Why dream the dream

That can never be willed

Why not run away

To a quiet old place

Disappear from the chaos

Hide my sad face

Why take the call

When it’s never a friend

Why sew a stitch

In a tear that won’t mend

Leave me be now

Let me die alone

All the whys will be answered

When I’m just dust and bone.

~December 10, 2020 by Erin de Blois

No Room For Me

Quietly breaking

Snapping in two

Bending and swaying

And caving for you

Nothing left inside

But hollow dead space

Forgotten tear dust

On a forgotten old face

You push and you pull

And you take so much more

And when I don’t have enough

You just ask for more

Does it matter that I

Am not who I was?

That my ghost is now lost

To shadows and buzz?

Tear me apart at the arms

And the legs and the bust

Leave me out in the rain

And see me molested by rust

It doesn’t much matter

I don’t much care

The girl who I was

Is now simply not there

Meander and wander

And twist pretty words

Into shallow abused and dry

Desperate curves

Off with the sadness

Off with dismay

Put on another mask

Pretend you’re okay

Shut it out lock it in

Whatever you need

While my soul is consumed

By poisonous seed

(And still nobody will see

That the greatest loss here

Is my own loss of me. )

————-

Erin de Blois – October 10, 2020

Stranger In My Past

The words of hope

Shine bright and big

Reminding me

Of bitter things

A man who walked

Now lays in ash

Bearing ghosts

Of lives gone past

Never knew the words they sell

Would be sold by you

A fragment of a broken dream

A man I never knew

Your hands were cold and tired then

An angry soul of sin

Oh but the man that they all knew

Was a man reborn again

How can I tell your shadow

That my soul is deeply grieved

By all the lies and hatred

And all of the deceit

Standing here and looking on

Stained glass made of tears

You steal my voice and take my breath

Fill my dreams with fear

Little smiles crack in dirt

And laughter fills the night

But hollow echos filter down

Once I regain my sight

You gifted me with empty space

A hole beneath my breast

I’ve tried to fill a thousand ways

Since the day you left

And oh but if they knew the man

That I knew back then…

I’m glad they knew a different you

But which one was pretend?

When we meet at Satan’s gate

I’ll cry for you at last

For in life all you were

Was a stranger in my past

——-

August 24, 2020

By Erin de Blois

~For Robert.

Note to Self

I wrote this to myself 5 years ago. I believe it’s important to reaffirm your worth to yourself on a regular basis. Especially when one is struggling in life. To all those who read this and may be dealing with self-doubt or feelings of worthlessness, please know that you are loved and valued by many you may not even realize are there.

E.

———————

Dear Erin:

You are beautiful. On days when you feel less, remember there are people who love you for you. There are people who enjoy your wit, embrace your awkward elegance, and see all the things you struggle so hard to see in yourself. Don’t let one rough moment determine your day. Go conquer the world you gorgeous beast!!

With love,

Your inner voice.

Past Lessons

Thinking back I can see why my life fell in the ways that it did. Why things happened in the order the happened. Why they happened at all.

Going specifically back to failed relationships I can see value in each…

One taught me compassion.

One taught me patience

One taught me strength.

One taught me to believe in myself.

One taught me integrity.

One taught me humility.

And regardless of how each relationship ended, I am grateful for all of them. I am thankful for the lessons. I am blessed by the memories – good and bad.

These things helped lead me to where I am. And I am in a personally, internally, and emotionally good place. Healthy.

I have the tools now to create a world that works for me. To give love that is meaningful and determined. To be the person I need to be for me. And when I am who I need to be for me, I am better equipped to be the me that my love, my children, and my friends need.

Thank you, my Past, for the heartbreak, the hardships, the laughter, and the lessons. Those were invaluable times after all. 🧡

—————–

~Erin de Blois

July 25, 2020

Your Super Powers

I originally wrote this on July 25, 2016. Perhaps it’s more relevant now than ever.

~Erin.

——

Humor me for a moment.

In fiction, there are superheroes and super villains. They often possess similar powers; however, as a rule the superhero uses their powers for good, while the super villain uses their powers for evil. Every so often you get somebody that’s kind of neutral, but they often lean just a bit heavier to one side of that proverbial fence.

Now, picture this for a moment. Facebook, social media, technology as a whole – imagine, if you will, that they are your “superpowers”. It’s not far fetched if you take a moment to consider the qualities these things bring to the table: instant knowledge; instant presence; in some cases nearly immediate strengths; and instant world-wide communication (just to name a few). You can literally affect hundreds, even thousands, and potentially millions of lives in an instant.

So you have your superpowers, right?

How do you chose to use them? Are you the superhero or the super villain?

Think on that. And consider the way YOU are influencing this world.

~deep thoughts brought to you by the letter E.

Smile

My eyes will laugh with you.

My heart will bleed for you

My soul will sing for you.

I’ll do it all

I’ll hide away my pain

I’ll smile just for you.

And when it’s through it’s through.

I’m smiling just for you.

~originally written July 16, 2017 by Erin de Blois

The Devil Repents

Exhaustion sets deep

And quick in the bones

Of a soulless meanderer

Sitting there on the stones

His dark cloak waves

And weaves in the breeze

Of a dark musty morning

As he sinks to his knees

“Please…”

This punishment he feels

Is too large for the crime

As he recounts the minutes

And memories on his mind

One life, then two

He slowly peeled away

Until the count was in the thousands

Now too dark to save

He’s not merely a knave

He reaches his hand

Toward the sky he betrayed

And catches a glint

Of time stolen and frayed

He once was a man

Of godliness and peace

Today just a demon

A killer for lease

No tears can form in the hollows that

pretend to be eyes

The skeleton within

Now made of nothing but lies

But still he tries

A glow showers down

From the Heaven above

Reminding him that all

He left there was love

His departure was angry

And fuelled by the haste

Of a young fledgling angel

Merely focussed on waste

How long has it been?

Father Time seems to insist

That it’s been a millennium

With a vengeful flick of the wrist

The golden gates he once guarded

Are now impenetrable to him

So he sits in his darkness

Surrounded by sin

Why did he begin?

Awash with remorse

For all that he’s done

He puts his face to the mud

And begs the Father and Son

“Please let me come home!

This wound is too deep!

Forgive my sins

And the death that I’ve reaped!”

Silence answers in the form

Of a stifling heat

Meant to melt all the ashes

Of Satan’s defeat

He stands up then

And wipes the grime from his face

With bony old hands

In a tired worn space

If he still had a heart

It would be broken inside

Among the lives and the lost

That he tossed it beside

As he turns to carry forth

A new day of death

He hears a slight whisper

Just a fragment of breath

Speak of your regret.”

He stops in his tracks

And gets back on his knees

And starts to recount every wrong

In an attempt to appease

A desperate reach and a plea

To regain connection

With the god he abandoned

Without pause for reflection

On he goes for an hour

A day and a year

And when he’s done

He stands trembling in fear

Awaiting the verdict

Of forgiveness today

It never occurred to him

That he ought to just pray

So silence abounds

And he grows bitter and cold

And storms into the sunrise

With ill will God foretold

As he leaves the space

Where Heaven and Hell collide

God’s tears pour out

For the folly of pride

The man not understanding

That he was never denied

He just needed to repent

Without lies lurking inside

As Satan re-enters

And reclaims his throne

His flesh begins to glow red

And recover his bones

Oh yes, this is home

—————

Erin de Blois

June 19, 2020

Embers of Time Gone By

Your picture cracked

And bled for me

And showed me no remorse

All the while

I died inside

Crumbled by the force

Your smile it shone

And mystified

Left me in the cold

Your words they came

On like a storm

And made me feel bold

And then you broke

A thousand times

And cried beneath my breast

Silent nights

In bright white lights

You crept into my chest

And as you shattered

On the floor

I saw a glimpse of sin

And everything that

You foretold

The hell where you had been

Underneath the blood

And moss

You used to fill the hole

I saw your beauty

Raw in form

And was blinded by your soul

And then began

A twist of fate

Nobody could predict

A desperate path

We can’t claw back

And can’t even depict

You led me from

My hellish state

And forced me to be true

While all the while

There I thought

It was me that was saving you

——–

Written by Erin de Blois

I wrote this a while back in another life and another time. I thought perhaps I’d finally share it…

The Trash

Disappoint and burn in sin

Shake out the dust

And start again

Filthy skin and rusted dreams

My Soul will fall

Beneath your screams

Arid desert of wasted flesh

Flash and smash

In final breath

Awake and fall into the arms

Of unknown soldiers

On Satan’s farms

Twist the sword and eat the heart

Of all the dreams

That fell apart

Oh what a way to start

Tastebuds lit with melted bones

Fall to my knees

And eat cold stones

Worlds gone by in different views

Pagans sitting

In the pews

Judgement rains upon us all

The rich ensuring

The poorest fall

Diamond flash to cleanse your soul

Damn the rest

Who have no gold

Shield your eyes and turn away

From the trash

That’s in your way

————-

Written by Erin de Blois

The Good Christian

Warning in advance, this post will offend some. If you are offended, please feel free to remove me from your feeds.

I wrote this on May 28, 2017. In the midst of a terrible breakup that followed a LOT of emotion abuse, gaslighting, and lies. It was hard to write, it’s hard to re-read, but the sentiment remains and I’m certain I’m not alone. Thus I shall share it here.

E.

———–

Okay I’m going to say some things here that are going to offend people. But please bear with me because I DO in fact have a point. I’m going to try REALLY HARD not to name anybody, but some of you will know who this is aimed towards I’m sure. Please understand that I’m not trying to shame anybody. Also, pardon the strong language in advance, please.

How the hell can anybody claim to be a good Christian if they so quickly turn their backs on somebody due to that person’s past? Or those same “good Christians” advise somebody to ignore somebody else in need. And yet those very same “good Christians” are so quick to expect the very person they shunned to be there for their loved one when the situation has been reversed!!

Now… I’m NOT the best Christian in the world. I get that. I smoke. I like to have a drink now and then. I’ve had sex out of wedlock. I’ve run with some very “interesting” and non-religious crowds. I like to hang out with guys more than I like to hang out with girls – and that’s NOT a sex thing, that’s just a comfort thing. Generally speaking I don’t have much in common with other women my age. I’d prefer to fix a car than go shoe shopping. So, like, it’s easier for me to talk with guys than it is with girls because I find I share more interests with the boys, as a rule.

I’m going to go WAY back for a moment to when I was 17 and I was dating this awfully sweet guy, but I had a child from a previous relationship. So his good Christian folks shunned me. Like, quite literally, I was the spawn of satan in their eyes.

Okay fine. I was a bit rough around the edges. I came from a very NON-Christian background and family. So religion, to me, was absolutely foreign.

But instead of following the example Jesus set out for us – you know, the Jesus those very same good Christians claim to worship? The Jesus who befriended whores and sinners from all kinds of shady walks of life? The Jesus who hung around with people that the church itself had damned? Yeah, instead of following His example, they advised that oh-so-sweet boy that if he continued to see me they would oust him from the family. Because I had a kid out of wedlock so i was obviously bad news.

Except here’s the thing: I have a checkered past, but I’m NOT actually a bad person. Just saying.

That “example” of how to be a good Christian turned me off of church for a REALLY long time btw.

Oh I believed in God from a young age. In fact I prayed more often than most of the “good Christians” I knew. But I didn’t go to church because I didn’t want to be around people who could so easily be so cruel and judgmental.

Fast forward several years. A lifetime has passed and my path has once again crossed with that oh-so-sweet boy. Now, I’m mid-divorce. I have THREE beautiful kids whom I love more than anything in this world. I’m going to church every Saturday evening (because my bus didn’t run early enough on Sundays to get me to the church I called home on time). I’m involved in women’s groups and on top of that, I’m also attending another church on Sundays when I have the time to do so. I’m praying damn near all day every day. But I’m in a bad place, man. Emotionally broken in every aspect. And I ask that sweet man to just support me through this. Please. I need somebody to lean on right now.

But those oh-so-very Christian folks… they tell him to walk away from me. It’s not his problem. He should stay away.

So I go through absolute hell. And I mean the kind of hell I would not wish on ANYBODY – nor should I. The kind of hell that somebody like me – with my so very NON-Christian background – knows is so wrong to let anybody walk through alone. But there I am going through hell alone because the person that SHOULD have been beside me was not. All because those good Christians thought I wasn’t good enough for their time or efforts. I wasn’t good enough to deserve being cared for.

I went through hell. I saw satan in those days and I felt his hands around my throat. And I went through it alone.

Fast forward again – that same oh so sweet man is now going through a small sliver of the hell I went through. Just a fragment of what I went through alone. And those good Christian folks are now telling me that if I really love him I’ll be there for him. If I really love him I’ll look past all the lies that fell in between those years and I’ll forgive him and I’ll bend over backwards and sacrifice whatever I need to sacrifice to be there for him to help him through this awful time.

You know what the difference here is? Nobody fucking has to tell me that because, me with all my non-religious background, knows that it’s NOT goddamned okay to turn your back on ANYBODY in need. So yeah. I’ll be there. Against my better judgement. I’ll be there. I don’t need some high and mighty anybody telling me what I need to do because believe it or not, that’s already who I am and it always has been. And if those good Christians had gotten out of their mighty pews long enough to actually see me they would already know that.

But I want to know why they have that double standard? Why was it perfectly fine and acceptable for them to turn their backs on me but now they expect me to do for them the very same fucking thing that they refused to do for me?!?

That’s hypocrisy at its finest there. And I’m sorry, but one day they WILL answer to God for that.

But judgement is not MY job. MY job is to be a decent human being. MY job is to try and do the right thing and to help people in need.

Maybe Christians are exempt from that.

Perhaps the pastor of those good Christians could shed some light for me since he’s had a hand in these events as well? Perhaps he could explain to me why that double standard exists and why it’s absolutely acceptable for Good Christian Folks to turn their backs on scum like me, and yet scum like me are expected to “do the right thing” and help people like them? Why is that okay?

I mean hey – I got no problem helping people. In fact, I think more of those Good Christians should take a few notes from MY book because I think I do damned good job of reaching out to people in need and accepting people in all their flaws and pains. And I think Jesus would be damned proud of who I am. Even though I have a foul mouth and I’m not the picture perfect Christian. I think he’d say that I’m on the right track.

But according to those good Christian folks, who are so quick to pass judgement (I thought that was God’s job, not theirs, but whatever) – according to them, I’m not worth a fucking glance never mind a helping hand.

So yeah – if you want to know, THAT’S why I prefer to spend my time with people like me who aren’t Good Christians. Because I find that people like me are far nicer than most of those Good Christians are. Certain exceptions to that rule exist, of course, a few of which are currently reading this. Those exceptions are the people that embraced me when I needed it no matter what my background looked like. And THOSE people are Christians I can look up to and respect. Just sayin.

Do-It-Yourself Guide for A**holes

I wrote this three years ago about a past relationship – one that tore at my very fabric daily. Oh, I’m really-reading so very much of what I wrote then – when everything was confusing and painful and the gaslighting had become all too much for me to believe I was sane any more….

This was written for Six-Years-An-Asshole, but today I am repurposing it for me and for anybody in the universe who needs it.

Slowly – oh so slowly – I am taking back every ounce of energy I expended and I will make every drop, every tear, every broken memory worth something so much more.

———-

A cold wind doth bloweth in her heart. She draws the curtains closed on love one final time.

There is nothing left here in this barren living room. Devoid of all warmth and decoration.

She breathes deep. One final sweep. A reminder of all the reasons to leave.

She swam here once, in a sea of hopes and dreams. Foolish playgrounds and never-beens. A palace riddled with dust. Doorways long seized shut down the hall.

Off she walks. Out the rusted back gate through a garden overrun with weeds. Shattered glass at her feet. Remnants of what might have been.

If only.

No pause of goodbye. No flutter of regret. There is nothing left here now but bitter, spoiled ground and ashes in a fireplace that would never fully ignite. And she knows she was right.

All those times she closed her eyes and pictured living here… and she couldn’t see it. Oh but he assured her it was a lovely place.

And kissed her face.

She said she believed in it. But she did not. And perhaps that was the greatest fallacy of all.

She knew from the start that the colours would fade from the walls. The rooms would become prisons. And the furnishings would rot away.

She knew. But they were words she could never bring herself to say.

He wanted her to stay.

So she stayed. She had nowhere else to be.

Or so it seemed.

And now she walks down the street. Leaving it all in a dirty heap. No look back. No second breath.

This is not a fixer-upper.

—-

By Erin de Blois on April 8, 2017

Casket

I saw you in a wooden casket

Toe attached to one small bell

As you were gently lowered down

Into the shiny depths of hell

——

I watched you as you kicked

And screamed against the wooden box

I heard you scream a thousand names

As you beat against the locks

——

This wasn’t what you wanted

Wasn’t what you planned

The life of sin that you took on

Spun quickly out of hand

——

A dire disease a lowly state

You grovel with the grime

Of today’s estate of misery

And societies of slime

——

Penance due – won’t your repent?

And pay the toll-man’s wage?

Of self respect and discipline

To save you from this stage

——

Oh but you still shout and curse the names

Of all those that you wrong

With selfish eyes and foolish pride

While you sing your sinners song

—-

The dirt is in; you’re buried deep

In the bowels of Mother Earth

To rid the skies and sanitize

Us of your vile curse

——

We hear the bell ring as you twitch

In Satan’s damming grip

And from your toe the string we grab

And give one final rip

——

The lies fall still on silent lips

As we turn and walk away

Pretending that it won’t be us

That meets you in that grave

——

(We swear we will behave…)

——

The shame that clouds our painted skin

In colours oh so bright

Betrays the truth that we ourselves

Have never had it right

——

You come along to haunt and howl

And steal us from of our sleep

A dark reminder that all of us

Have a soul to reap

——

Erin de Blois

May 24, 2020

Phantom

In this dream

I saw your face

Etched inside

A wondrous place

Of harmony

And discontent

All wrapped up

In misintent

Awake to see you

Standing here

In ghostly shape

But all too clear

A chill swept through

My sleepers mind

As it came to be

You’re lost behind

A shuffle

And a shotgun shell

That brought me down

Into your hell

And yes your voice

It carries on

Telling me that

I can be strong

(Oh but aren’t you wrong?)

Back to sleep

To glimpse the space

Of timeless days

And even pace

I’ll wake upon

Another day

When I’m dark enough

To dig your grave

——

Erin de Blois

May 24, 2020

Breath of Life

Take me in my final breath

Leave my heart beneath your breast

Spilling down and all around

This cold earth deep in the ground

—-

Lose me to this heaven song

Where I forget what went so wrong

Or how it took so very long

To teach the world how to be strong

—-

Torn in fragments bound to sin

There’s no more time to start again

The day draws close; the hour nigh

When breathless souls begin to sigh

—-

And they all cry

—-

But not one of them even knows why

—-

A spin a twist a trick of fate

That left us to our minds too late

Let’s not delay proceedings today

Let’s not charade or cheapen their stay

—-

This old soirée of yesterday

Misery that ran astray

—-

Lay me down and hear me gasp

From netherworlds that you can’t grasp

A dark damp place where heaven dwells

And earth runs by with angel bells

—-

Good night goodbye and then so long

In quiet hours you hear my song

And wonder if I was wrong

To have ever stayed here so damned long

—–

Erin de Blois

May 22, 2020

Commuters Jig

All the pomp and propaganda

And the things we leave behind

In haste to try and satisfy

Those that that leave us unfulfilled

In the corner of our mind

Rush and race and forget embrace

As we dance the commuters jig

Free to buy and exemplify

The life we pretend to live

T’is but a dream

A fat charade

In an epic sordid tale

Of all the masks we tend to wear

And ships we set for sail

Dream not your dreams

But dream theirs

Work yourself to death

While love floats by

And your soul dies

Regrets alive on your last breath

Instill the thought in your child’s mind

That this is their dream too

To leave alone the sticks and stones

In favour of a buck or two

What a waste this silly pace

That leaves us wanting more

Than what our bosses swear we’re worth

And what they’ll ever pay us for

(This life that we deplore…)

And yet we stay and masquerade and always beg for more.

May 20, 2020

By Erin de Blois

Reliving past re-evaluations

So… a few years back I was coming out of a horribly abusive relationship (post-divorce, so NOT the ex-husband) and as I was evaluating leaving that devastatingly damaging relationships, I wrote the following (on May 19, 2017). It’s interesting to re-read it and realize that, although my head was a mess, I did actually have a decent grasp on who I was and what I needed. And I can say today that although I went through some brambles and took some wrong turns along the way, I did eventually find that second half that actually gets me (known today as Top-Shelf Kevin).

So without further ado, here is a glimpse at my past…

————

Originally written May 19, 2020:

There’s a part of me that’s afraid to start over. I mean… I’m 37. I’m divorced. I have 3 kids – 2 of which are mostly grown but still… I have a complicated – at best – relationship with my ex husband. I’m not in the best shape of my life. I have so much fucking emotional trauma that I don’t know if I CAN be good for anybody…

Who the hell would want this?

And in these moments – much like when I was contemplating leaving my ex husband – I am afraid to get out because I’m scared of being alone for the rest of my life. Although realistically… if I stay… I’m pretty much alone anyways. So…

Things I have going for me?

I have a REALLY good job. One that I love. One that I’m actually GOOD at – most days.

I have a huge heart (…to match my huge ass? Haha) and I try really hard to show people around me that I care for them and that they’re valuable to me.

I bend over backwards for people I love.

I am easy going for the most part and I love spontaneity. I’m not picky about HOW I spend time with people as long as I’m spending time with them. I’m content to lounge on the couch or go for a walk or just sit in the same room and read a book… God I miss reading…

I’m crazy as shit but mostly in a good way. I like letting the inner child in me run wild, but I also know how to be serious and act like a grown up when it matters. A skill I’m convinced many people do not actually possess. Heh.

I’m financially responsible. Most of the time. My bills usually get paid before I play around with my dough. With the exception of this week cause damn. I needed to just enjoy that vacay without stressing about money. Ya know?

I’m smart. I may not always seem like it – cause I SUCK at talking to people – but I’m goddamned smart. My head is always working, analyzing, thinking, puzzling…. I have some sense of mechanical inclination, I have some sort of street smarts, and I’m book smart like crazy. I am a fountain of weird facts and information that isn’t exactly common. Plus my vocabulary is astounding. 😉

I’m loyal to a fault. BUT… I am also a Scorpio, so if you give me a reason to sting I damn well will. Eventually.

But… I’m broken in SO many ways. I don’t know if I can ever be “fixed”. I have so much emotional baggage and so many insecurities due to said emotional baggage… finding a new relationship will not be easy. And maybe I don’t need one at all. I get that. Maybe I need to be alone for a while. But you know… it sure would be nice to find that person that makes coming home easier… that person that will lay beside me and talk about absolutely nothing until we fall asleep. Somebody who will hug me when I’ve had a bad day instead of yelling at me… I’m a lot to handle at times. I’m off the fucking charts emotional sometimes. And I’m not a young, big breasted, skinny little thing anymore… I’m not the picture of what people find “desirable”. I’m chaotic and messy and weird.

But I know how to love. If I know anything at all, I know how to love.

Just gotta find somebody who sees past all the other shit – somebody who will encourage me (in a GOOD way) to become a better version of me. Until then… I’ll go it solo for a bit. Who knows – maybe I’ll enjoy it.

Of course first i gotta have THAT conversation… one I’m absolutely terrified to have…

———-

Folks, don’t give up. Don’t give in. Know your worth and demand nothing less than you deserve. You are valuable, and worthy, and beautiful. Don’t let anybody ever convince you otherwise.

Much love, my friends.

E.

Life Lessons by the Letter E

Profound things I’ve learned along the way:

1) being a parent means silencing your own self-preservation instincts in favour of preserving your children. (Pickling jars not needed)

2) darn near everybody – no matter their faith or lack thereof – calls out to God when their life is on the line.

3) you can see miracles each and every day if you stop looking for them where you WANT them to be.

4) everybody has a story. And everybody’s story deserves to be heard, valued, and cherished.

5) love happens in the weirdest places, at the strangest times, without warning.

6) ALL people have good in them. ALL.

7) Mother Nature is unforgiving, and indiscriminate. If she brushes past, without knocking you down, consider yourself fortunate for one more day, and be thankful for the next breath you take.

~Erin.

Self-Commiserating

This week I have felt off. Really, deeply and soul wrenchingly off.

Life is good. Don’t get me wrong. I’m ecstatic in so many ways. There is so very much I am grateful for right now.

But I am struggling with some self doubt. Some internal chaos. Some form of being unsettled and not knowing how to change what needs changing.

Fear of letting people down in the process of helping myself up…

Today I had a thousand thoughts running through my head. I thought of my past life and how deeply it’s missed in so many ways. How much regret I have for the choices I made. I thought about how thankful I am to be where I am today – to have some semblance of security in today’s oh-so-very-insecure world. I thought about the way so many tend to forget the hands that helped them up, and the second chances they were given. The way so many people are quick to judge. And about where I want to be at this time next year. And how to get there…

And then I began daydreaming about the journey ahead and allowed myself to imagine ridiculously outlandish scenarios in which I’m the recipient of a LOT of good fortune and unearned (so far) confidence.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about leaving this god-forsaken city that has dealt me so very many harsh blows. And how easy it would be to pack up and move right now… Imagining myself making it big by breaking out of the confines of my normal day-to-day…

Silliness.

Or is it?

I’ve always said “dream big or don’t dream at all”. Maybe it’s time I follow my own advice. Maybe it’s time for me to do something incredibly risky. Something that looks completely stupid to the rest of the world but makes perfect sense to me.

Something for ME.

How does one break free from the restrictions and expectations that society breeds into us from birth? How does one get off of the “socially acceptable” path of mundane tasks and start following their actual purpose? …I mean… without having a large financial cushion to carry them?

I wasn’t born into wealth. I work hard – damned hard – for my meagre life. And in a lot of ways, I love my world. But something needs to shift. I know what. I just don’t know how to go about attaining the means to make that shift happen in a reasonably acceptable timeframe.

I’m being vague. I know this. Very few will actually grasp exactly what I’m talking about here. But this post still has purpose. Because, regardless of the precise scenario, we all go through the need for change. We all struggle with the “how” in some way. Some of us financially, others emotionally, and still others in their own limitless variations.

We all struggle. We all seek “better” at some point.

And we all wonder how to get there.

Today the “how” is heavy on my heart. Tomorrow it may not be. Who’s to know?

~Erin.

The Motel

This is a fragment of my experience at a shitty little run down hole in the wall motel in Surrey, BC. Originally written on May 12, 2017. Edited here only for spelling.

~E.

——-

So the first hotel we’re staying at definitely has been an experience…

We arrived and pulled into a gated parking lot. Not like “high end” gated. More like “shady as fuck” gated.

Our hotel desk dude did NOT provide any form of paperwork, aside from a thin receipt that shows only the amount paid. (Think Dollarama receipt)

We walked up the outdoor flight of stairs to our room… past a couple of “interesting” characters.

Opened the door to our room which has literally none of what I would call “normal” hotel amenities. (No hair dryer, no iron, no coat hangers, no air conditioner, and there’s not even a bible in the desk drawer. (One of the handles is missing off the desk drawers, just to add a bit of that amazing ambiance that this hotel is simply oozing.) There used to a flat screen tv mounted on the wall… all that’s left now are the brackets. Replacing it is an old 400lb Sharp TV, taking up most of the top of the entertainment shelf, complete with missing buttons.

Our maid is a pleasant, young girl, clad in sweat pants and a back pack. When I asked her for an additional large towel (because, you know, my HAIR…) she informed me that she is not allowed to give out more than two of each towels, and only one facecloth. They are concerned about theft…

We tipped her a few bucks for bringing us clean towels (and the requested extra) and her face lit up… clearly she’s not accustomed to being tipped.

The view off the balcony is of a fenced up empty lot… the view from our room window is of a run down shack with 14 cars sitting, seemingly forgotten.

Our fridge makes the most god awful noise… we tried drowning it out with the TV but it cannot be done. There exists, in the coat closet (with no hangars) a bloody snot smear on the wall.

The bedspread on the second bed has distinctive cigarette burns in it.

This is definitely not the nicest hotel/motel I’ve ever stayed in. But all in all… I’d stay here again before I’d ever stay at Circus Circus is Vegas again. Hahaha

And you know what? Despite it all… it been fun. And so far it’s been an entertaining trip to say the least. 😉

The Silver

I originally wrote this one year ago today, on May 7, 2019. Thought it was worth sharing here. ~E.

——-

So… I’m going to write openly for a moment (cause I know y’all LOVE that!)

I’ve had a rocky year. I’ve been through heart ache that hurts deeper than I thought I could survive. I’ve walked roads I never thought I would walk. I’ve disclosed things about myself to select individuals that I’ve never breathed to another soul (and likely never will again). I’ve danced with some demons, I’ve overcome some insecurities and fallen deeper into others. I’ve been through chaos at home, at work, and everywhere in between.

And today, in this moment, I feel utterly lost.

However… as always when one goes through these sorts of “things”, I’ve also learned a lot about me. I’ve identified areas that I need to work on. I’ve reached acceptance within myself in other areas. I’ve become stronger, learned how to say “no” when it’s needed (in most instances) and fought for those things that I believe in. I’ve fallen with some absolutely fabulous splashes, but I’ve also danced around some near misses with balance and precision that I didn’t think I had.

So… once again, the trials hurt. A lot. But I’m thankful for them. Because ultimately, they’ve made me better today than I was yesterday. Despite some epically disastrous fails in the mix.

Cheers to those going through their own “stuff” (look at me avoiding the swear words today!) Remember that when things are darkest, that is your greatest opportunity for growth. Stay the course. Cry, scream and kick if you have to. But stay the course. I promise the journey will be worth it in the end.

Love all y’all. 😘

“Those People”

I haven’t been writing much lately. I’ve been overwhelmingly busy and exhausted lately.

I’m happy with my small world right now. Happy to be with my family. Happy that my family has expanded. Grateful to be working while I know so many others are not as fortunate right now.

But today… ugh. Today.

You know those people that sap your energy with their words? The ones that make you feel utterly unappreciated and worthless? The ones that can take you from the top of your world and crush your spirit with seemingly no effort at all?

That’s my day today.

In this moment I feel like crumbling. I feel weak. I feel powerless. The lack of security in the areas of my universe where I truly need security right now is palpable. Thick. Suffocating.

I’m drowning in an endless ocean of “never quite enough”.

And right now I’m furious with myself for giving up securities I once had firmly in place. For deliberately putting myself in this situation where I can be so easily crushed and consumed and then tossed out like trash.

I don’t know what to think. Or how to feel.

Thank you to my Kevin, and to my family. For being there on days like this. For making me laugh when I just want to scream and kick and cry.

Thank you.

May this moment pass quickly. So I can go back to focussing on those that actually care about me. Myself included.

Missing Pieces

Fragments of a broken dream

Humbled by a humble scene

Of what never was

And what has never been

No room for tears

In this room of fears

Fighting to stay sane

Through all those insane years

(Shutting up and shutting down

Has never been so quick

Blood that clots far to fast

Blood that runs far too thick)

Dancing on the dreamers edge

Falling from a crumbled ledge

Peering at my long lost soul

Through a barren hedge

Throwing fists about an absurd notion

Drinking down a war torn potion

Stop me in my tracks and die

End this idiotic motion

(Never knowing, never growing

Words are mere deception

Leaving us to illustrate

Our own fool perception)

Missing fragments of my long lost heart

Missing pieces of a missing start

I dream the dream and scream the scream

And it becomes my art.

———————–

~by Erin de Blois

Written April 24, 2020

One By One

She stands beside you

So afraid

Of what there is to come

She makes her mind up

One more time

To turn away and run

She sees all of the jagged things

The parts they left to rot

She thinks on all the pleasantries

They mixed into the pot

She washes off the delicate

Unfragrant scent of sin

While underneath the shower head

She knows she will give in

(And she knows they can still win)

She rushes through a doorway

Blocked off by deaths betrayal

And rushes into panicked streets

Amidst a heart set sail

And she knows

No matter which way this goes

Love always grows

Love always glows

She drives along a highway

A fearful heart inside

Afraid of all the horrid things

She’s sure that she will find

A gentle knock

A doorbell ring

A scared hello

A welcome sting

And there she stands

In tears and strands

And endless loving pleas

A soul to save

On this sweet day

With just a simple squeeze

Love me please…

They take their bags out

By the ton

And set them on the pavement

Underneath the sun

Where they agree to sit

Wade through the shit

And unpack the bags slowly

One by one by one

Oh what love has done.

———-

March 26, 2020

By Erin de Blois

Apocalypse of Dreams

Note to K… this is what I was writing… I told you I’d let you read it when it was done… I never thought “done” would be this. Love you always.

——

Apocalypse of Dreams

Quiet now, the anarchy

Stilled voices, silent hearts

No more tongues to wag

And thrash about the dark

—-

Hush now, the fallen

Apocalypse of hearts

Broken dreams and nightmare screams

That tore us all apart

—-

Silent now, the tears

Loves bitter betrayal

Leaves us bruised and so abused

Shattered, fallen, frail

—-

Stay now, emotion

Kisses left to rust

Playground games and the insane

Blow away like dust

—-

Away now, with wars

Kaleidoscope of trust

Anarchy of all those things

We thought would never rust

~Originally written March 23, 2020

By Erin de Blois

The Oil and Gas Debate

I live in Alberta. I have worked in the Oil and Gas sector for numerous years. Alberta’s economy is largely derived from our oil and gas production / export. I, like many others, have depended on our Alberta Oil Sands for my livelihood. My income. And basic day-to-day things that most people around the globe depend on. Cars. Energy. Heat. Electronics. Clothing. Food.

The list goes on.

Having said that, while I understand and don’t necessarily disagree with the valid reasons environmentalists are against the oil and gas industry, I do want to make a few points of my own, in support of the industry that literally none of us in Canada are currently existing without.

The Trans Mountain Pipeline project alone creates over 5,000 jobs straight off. (See https://www.transmountain.com/benefits) with some sites estimating the creation of more 30,000 jobs overall. I can not verify those numbers; however, so I will go with the lower projection of 5,000. Which is still significant. In a time when the economy is so hard hit, it is imperative that we get Canadians working. Overall, and pipeline project aside, the industry provides almost half a million jobs in Canada (see https://www.enbridge.com/energy-matters/news-and-views/capp-economic-contribution)

But, to paraphrase a sentiment seemingly shared by anti-oil and gassers:

“Alberta can find other sources of income”

Okay fine. Can’t argue that, but what other sources? Our main resources in Alberta are oil, agriculture, beef and (!!) forestry. So let’s cut out the oil part, despite the fact that it makes up 27.9% of Alberta’s economy (based on 2016 statistics found here: https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Economy_of_Alberta).

That leaves us with agriculture. Which relies on what to operate machinery, and processing plants? Oil and gas. Okay let’s go to beef… oh wait that also relies on oil and gas to run facilities and equipment. Alright… forestry? (Fun fact, Alberta is number three in forestry in Canada, coming behind BC and Quebec as noted here: https://www.thecanadianencyclopedia.ca/en/article/natural-resources-in-alberta). Oh yeah… forestry also relies on – you guessed it – oil and gas.

Not only that, but aside from agriculture (but only if you exclude the machinery and processing involved) each of our natural resources in Alberta leaves its own heavy carbon footprint.

So… while I’m all for finding alternate means to support our province – and our country – until such time as there is a workable and realistic solution that cuts out the need for oil and gas all together… well hell. I guess I’m going to support the industry that is currently supporting literally every aspect of our daily lives.

Yes – there is renewable energy. Of course. But it needs to be put into play on a big scale before we can omit oil and gas. Farm equipment would need to be modified to run on solar power (or some such thing). Factories, plants, business… all would need to be converted. As would the average home, and vehicle. And again, even at that, many of our basic “necessities” (aka: relied upon luxuries) require petroleum products to simply run. Such as our oh so important cell phones and computers. If you’re so inclined to look at a US based site on what petroleum is used for you can check here: https://www.eia.gov/tools/faqs/faq.php?id=41&t=6. If you are not inclined to look for yourself I’ll save you some time by saying almost EVERYTHING we use in our normal day to day is made with, uses, or relies on petroleum in some fashion.

Economy and livelihood aside… let’s look at the environment.

We can all agree that the oil and gas industry leaves a footprint. There isn’t a soul on earth that can argue that it doesn’t. So, since we can all agree it leaves a footprint, and we should all be able to agree that at this point we DO, in fact, ALL rely on the oil and gas industry to sustain our way of life (if you argue that point I will ask you how you are reading this, since, regardless of your method, oil and gas is the reason you’re ABLE to read this…), let’s look at the pros and cons of transport methods, shall we?

https://www.capp.ca/energy/transportation/

580 million barrels of oil are transported by ship through Canadian waters each year, and make up 2% of ship transport in Port Metro Vancouver alone. But wait… what powers those ships? Oh right. Oil and Gas.

237,000 barrels were transported each day by rail in 2019. Again… what powers those trains?

How about truck transport? Oh yes… that too requires both oil and gas both in making the trucks and utilizing them.

Let’s ask a question… how many trains do you see near communities? What happens if one of those trains carrying oil derails and spills into a community? The results are disastrous, as we all know by now.

How about an oil barge in the ocean? What happens when a spill occurs in the ocean? How easy is that clean up?

All right, what about the trucks carrying oil though our cities? How do you feel about a truck carrying oil spilling into your streets?

Now let’s look at pipelines… before anything else, I want to point out that pipelines – well maintained pipelines – are by far the most economical, efficient, and – yes – environmentally friendly way to transport oil. Canada happens to have one of the highest standards for pipeline construction and maintenance by the way, with our pipeline spills being a massive 60% lower than pipeline spills in the US.

A brief article with some insight here: https://www.aboutpipelines.com/en/blog/pipeline-regulations-and-safety-4-reasons-canadas-system-is-world-class/

In the event that a pipeline ruptures – and unfortunately it does happen – the environmental and social impact is likely to be far less significant than if, say a barge leaks into the ocean. Or a train derails in a neighbourhood.

Part of this has to do with the fact that most pipelines – and certainly the major ones – have immediate leak detections. Pipelines are also designed to last pretty much forever without leaking (assuming proper maintenance is being employed) https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Leak_detection

Also bear in mind (this is for the environmentalists out there) that pipelines transport oil and gas with massively reduced emissions when compared to other transport methods. Trucks, trains, and boats all increase emissions in huge quantities, especially when you consider the time it takes to get any of those to their destination, remembering the heavier a load is the more gas it takes to transport that load.

There is so much more to be said on this….

I am all for finding alternate sources of energy. I am all for saving the planet. But in the present day where we ALL rely so heavily on the oil and gas industry, I will say that until such a time as alternate means are effectively put into place globally, I have to stand by and support the industry that literally fuels all of our lives, and provides some economic stability (despite the downturn in prices) to our province overall.

I will revisit and expand on this in the near future but for now, check out the additional links below…

As always, thanks for reading.

~Erin.

Here is a list of oil spills worldwide https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_oil_spills.

This is an interesting read in and of itself on transportation methods and safety within Canada. https://www.google.ca/amp/s/www.forbes.com/sites/jamesconca/2018/10/11/which-is-safer-for-transporting-crude-oil-rail-truck-pipeline-or-boat/amp/

17 Days

Today marks seventeen days since my last drink.

That may not seem like much to anybody. But considering I spent nearly three years drunk *almost* daily… that’s a pretty big fucking deal in my world.

I didn’t join a group. I didn’t make a solemn oath to never touch another drink. I’m not saying I will never have another drink.

What I am saying is that I’ve come to some sort of friendly agreement with whatever part of me I was trying to run from, or drown out.

I am saying that I feel more in control of “me” than I have felt in a long time. Maybe ever.

I am saying that the deep dark piece of my soul that made (makes?) me fearful of facing real life is coming to surface. In a good way.

My drink of choice was whiskey. Always has been. Always will be – whether or not I ever touch another drop. Whiskey warmed me. It made me cheerful. It made me feel invincible. It gave me social skills that I perceived to be astounding – in reality I’m sure I just sounded like an ass most of the time.

I used it as a security blanket.

I used it to hide the parts of me I felt were ugly or unacceptable or unlovable.

I used it as an escape from my own internalizations of things that have happened.

I used it as an excuse to make poor choices.

I am not an alcoholic. Honestly. I could always take it or leave it. But my preference was always to take it if it was there and then find some more when it ran out.

…Well okay maybe I have a few alcoholic tendencies…. heh.

I have had a rough fucking month. I won’t get into the how’s or why’s. It has nothing to do with the current state of the world (although if the end is nigh, I won’t lie – I’ll prob’ly buy out a damned liquor store). I’ve personally had a rough, emotionally down month.

On my very worst day, I wanted a drink so badly I was climbing the walls. I opted NOT to drink. Despite feeling like I could easily validate the choice. Despite being tempted in a number of ways and having opportunity basically handed to me on a silver fucking platter.

I opted not to drink.

On one of my Worst. Days. Ever.

Again, that may seem small. But to me that was a huge step. Massive.

I made this choice – initially – to honour a promise I had made to somebody so very dear to me. Somebody I love beyond words or reason or comprehension.

I am continuing to make this choice now to both honour that promise, and to honour myself. Because I owe myself a better version of me. And I won’t find that version in the bottom of a bottle.

I’m not promising to never touch another drop. But what I am promising is that I will never let it consume my days or control my world the way it did for so damned long. I am promising to address some of my inner voices and demons before I consider taking another drink of anything. I am promising to never again spend day after blurry day too drunk to function. I am promising to make better choices. For me and for my loved ones.

I am promising to keep myself accountable. Starting with small steps of self improvement. Like promising myself I will drink four glasses of water a day at minimum (well up from my normal half a glass of water a week…).

I am promising to work on getting my mind and my body *ahem*liver*ahem* healthy.

And part of that is staying away from my beloved whiskey.

Today is day seventeen. And that is worth celebrating.

With a glass of water.

I’ll keep y’all posted on the next step. ✌🏻

~Erin.

December 30, 2019

How do I explain

I’ve known you for a thousand years

Without ever knowing your name

Or your face

Or your shape

How do I explain

This feeling that I’ve tasted

In dreams so long before

This dejavu

Too simple to

Explain away with reason or with rhyme

How do I explain

The way my soul cried out for you

The very moment I saw your face

The way my heart lit up

With the very first hello

Before I even knew your name

How do I explain

That some things are just made to be

Like willow trees and rainbows

And babe…

things like you and me.

~Originally written December 30, 2019

By Erin de Blois

—-

Although this is my favorite piece from my heart, it’s not my strongest bit of writing. But it was written in a moment of pure love-born elation, and although the verse is simple and somewhat silly, it is one of the pieces that captures my emotions in the moment in their purest form.

I rarely write “happy stuff”. I am far better at the melancholy. But this bit here… this was my soul speaking to another soul – one that has been increasingly detrimental in my universe. And it is one of my favorite pieces because of that.

I haven’t been posting lately – things have been strangely busy as the world seems to have ceased amid the Covid-19 crisis. I will pick this back up again soon. In the meantime, loves, stay safe. Be good to one another. And stop hoarding toilet paper FFS.

Cheers,

E.

The Path into Forever

How silly all we people are

To try and hold onto forever

When forever is a notion

Made up by silly men

And the path into forever

Has many forks and ends

—-

How foolishly we clutch and grasp

At straws while we pretend

That forever is a tangible

That forever never bends

—-

What pride we have to try and make

This notion a delight

When deep inside we all know

The term “forever” isn’t right

—-

Forever is a fantasy

We tell ourselves at night

While as we wake we realize

It doesn’t shine as bright

—-

No man will live forever

Nor keep it for himself

Forever is a dreamers tool

That sits on every shelf

—-

Dust off your dreams

And make them real

And remember time will tell

Which forever you land with

And which ones you shall sell.

—-

~Originally written March 14, 2020

By Erin de Blois

Hall of Mirrors

I peer into a mirror

An endless wave of me

Shards of broken dreams

And fragments of who I used to be

—-

Suddenly my soul is clutched

By the image that I see

While I find myself scrambling

As my reflection tries to break free

—-

And I fall to my knees

Unable to believe

That all this rambling and brambling

Was never meant to be

—-

And oh I miss that part of me.

—-

I paused beside a mirror

A sideways glance, you see

And what I caught in the silver glint

Were pieces of my history

—-

I smashed it to the ground

Desperately trying to flee

The painful realization

That it was never mine to see

—-

Shards of broken mirror

Staring up at me

Your face is all among them

Reflections of who we used to be

~March 13, 2020

By Erin de Blois

~~For K. ❤️

The Waters’ Bed

I’m so cold

I can’t see

There’s something above me…

Feels like glass

With small cracks

Like the ones down my back

Finger tips blue

No breath to be found

I guess this is what it feels like to drown

The flood came so fast

The flood came so quick

Water so dark and murky and thick

It swept me up and away

From the bed where I lay

And carried me back down

Right into my grave

(It’s okay

I like the darkness anyway)

I can’t believe it ended

I can’t believe it’s gone

Seems like Mother Nature has it wrong

Nothing stays long here

The chaos the fire…

Before sinking in mire

(Walking a fine wire

Confused for desire)

Gone with this string

Gone with the sound

Gone with the bullshit in this stupid old town

Lay me to rest

In a grave made of dust

Let my bones be collectors

Of maggots and rust

(There is no life

Where there is no trust)

Etch a somber goodbye

On the glass ceiling above

Here a crack there a crack…

Illusions sent from below

That mistook ice for love

~March 12, 2020

By Erin de Blois

Being Small

Hi. I’m Erin.

I live and breathe in a world that tries its best to crush people like me.

People with empathy. Compassion. Those that are perceived as being small and insignificant.

I’ve spent my entire life being bullied by people who think their big attitudes give them the right and privilege to walk over whomever they want to walk over as a means to get their own way.

And for a LOT of years, I submitted to that. I was fearful of angering the “powerful”.

I submitted to a false perception of fear, borne from thinking I had to be led by the people that spoke the loudest.

Guess what?

Fuck that.

I will not be somebody’s “yes man” (or woman…) just for the sake of keeping the peace.

I will not let anybody hold false power over me.

I will not let somebody’s big voice scare me into doing something I know is wrong.

I will not let anybody tell me who I need to be.

I am Erin. I am strong in morals. I have a backbone, and dammit I’ll use it. Often. I have a good moral compass. And I know how to say no.

I am Erin. And I am anything and everything BUT “small and insignificant”.

~E.

Life’s Little Gems

So recently I’ve started noticing something…

When you exert positive energy into the universe, positive energy comes back to you. Times A LOT.

I’m no mathamagician, so I’ll leave the statistics out of it. But… I’ve definitely seen some good come my way as of late. For all my moaning about the bad, the good is outweighing the bad plenty at the moment. I’m feeling a change in energy. Both in the energy I give and the energy I receive. For the better, I must say.

Funny because today in my Facebook feed a memory popped up from three years ago… (can I post a picture mid-article? Hmmmm I’ve never tried… let’s hope this works…)

When I posted it, I thought it to be witty, and accurate. Hell, this morning I still thought it was witty and accurate.

But through the course of the day, my perspective shifted. Why? Because I realized how skewed that perception is.

Truth be told, I’ve done my share of good and bad. I’ve hurt people, deliberately. I’ve also helped people that have hurt me, deliberately. But in recent years I began to value the helping above all else. Because I realized how very solitary it is to need help and have nobody offer it. So I try to help people without bias. I don’t always do well with that. But I think I get it right more often than I used to.

That said… lately I have noticed those efforts circling back ’round to me. Abundantly. People I have helped, are helping me. People I have never met are helping me. People that I had written off are helping me. I am getting positive energy and direction from some surprising places as of late. And I have to say – it feels fucking good!!!

I’m not the greatest person out there. I don’t deserve any more or less than anybody else. But when I had next to nothing I made a conscious effort to use what I had to extend small fragments of light to those who needed it. And I am now seeing those fragments come back to me.

It’s truly amazing.

To those who have impacted my universe in profound ways – whether you realize the impact or not – thank you. To friends, old and new, who have lent me a hand up when I needed it – thank you!

To the small slivers of hope and enlightenment that I have been offered, without anybody asking – or expecting – anything in return… THANK YOU!!!

To those that are currently struggling… I offer some advice:

  • Recognize your miracles
  • Don’t be afraid to ask for help
    And most importantly, don’t BE afraid to OFFER help, even when (especially when) you don’t feel you have anything to offer.
  • You’d be amazed at how the universe cares for you when you simply care for one another.
  • That said… I typically (not often enough lately) post Three Things I’m Grateful For on my Facebook page. Today I will instead post them here:

    Three things I’m grateful for…

    1. Good people. People who listen and offer smiles, or hugs, or laughter, or simply their shoulders when our burdens become too heavy.
    2. Memories. The good ones, the bad ones, the soul-wrenching ones, and the soul-filling ones. These are a large part of what we use to learn and grow and evolve into who we need to be.
    3. Coffee. Because, well fuck. It’s COFFEE.

    My friends… help somebody find a reason to smile today. The smallest of kindnesses often have the furthest reaching impact. Go impact somebody in a positive way. And then rinse and repeat tomorrow.

    Cheers, all.

    ~E.

    The Wallow: Part 2

    I can feel it, you know? The tides pulling me to someplace I should be. Some unknown, but somehow familiar land. The shores ready to welcome me with their bountiful displays of light and hope and dreams.

    I can feel it.

    But the pull is from such a great distance – or so it seems – that it feels as though the grasp is loosening. That I may, one day soon, be forever drifting, lost, in this endless sea.

    I believe that all things happen with a reason and a purpose. That we are all led to certain situations and certain people, and certain glances with great design.

    I also believe that most of us don’t stop to simply look.

    As riddled with despair and self-pity as I can be, I always attempt to look at my world through an outside perspective. To see, if I were somebody else, what I might possibly be missing by using my eyes alone.

    My poor, hard-to-see-but-too-proud-to-wear-my-glasses-most-days, eyes.

    But I can feel it. I can feel something big shifting in my world. Something huge. Something life altering.

    But how does one acknowledge that shift if one doesn’t know what the shift may be?

    Ah yes. One of the great mysteries of life, is simply knowing there will always be the unknown.

    Here’s to change. Whatever it may look like. 🥃🥃

    ~E.

    The Wallow

    I find myself struggling to want to do much of anything as of late. My house and soul both feel far too empty right now.

    My youngest son is off to school camp for the week, and his overly-loud laughter has left me with hallways of echos. The absence of pets running around at the same time led me to decide – far too hastily I’m sure – to commit to two new kittens, who will be ours in the coming week or so. (Simply a decision to fill the void, but in all honesty this is the first time in my life I’ve had no pets, so these two cuties will indeed be welcome.)

    The space beside me feels empty at night whilst I navigate some changes in lifestyle and, honestly, outlook.

    Sleep doesn’t come easy and even deep sleep doesn’t feel fulfilling at the moment.

    The silence of late is – to quote the old adage – entirely too deafening.

    I’m struggling to want to rise in the mornings. The mornings that used to be (if you can believe this) my favorite part of the day.

    Once again, my whole world feels a bit off to the side. As if somebody gave it a poke and it just slid off center somehow, the ballast forever bent. Or so it would seem.

    This is just a moment. I know that. I’ve wallowed in the loneliness of my darkest mind before. And I know well enough to know this too shall indeed pass. That, in the not too distant future, I will have found laughter again. I will see myself smile. And I won’t even realize it’s happening until I take a moment for self reflection amid whatever it is that brings me joy then.

    But right now… the canvass is grey. Hues of sadness spilling out to create the portrait of a broken soul…

    And I feel completely helpless to stop the waves of despair that clutch at my ankles and try to drag me into the quicksand that would rather see me drown than see me thrive.

    Why, for God’s sake, is life such an uphill battle for so many of us? Why do so many of us fall down so often during the race, unable to rejoin the pack due to broken bones, and cracked skin? Why does it feel that nothing comes easy?

    Kevin said something to me the other day, which resonated with me deeply. We were talking about how crazy we both are. And indeed we are both madly insane in the best – and sometimes the worst – of ways. And he said (to paraphrase) that “life would be boring otherwise”.

    How correct he was in saying that.

    As wonderful as life without struggle and chaos (or insane thoughts!) sounds on paper, I think I would quite certainly die of boredom. The hills and valleys are what keeps it interesting. Never knowing what to expect, or when to expect it, is – in its own way – better than a rollercoaster ride. Some moments leave us fearful. And some fill us with such elation we can’t stop smiling. Until the next loop that leaves us crying, but leads us once again back to laughter.

    Oh life… the tragedy and comedy all in one. Shakespeare had it right all along.

    ~Erin.

    Simple Verse

    Time ticks by

    Imagination

    Consequence and condemnation

    Searching for some

    Adoration

    Maybe you just need vacation

    Another nation

    Fornication

    Pleasant little conversation

    Hiding from that complication

    Accusation

    Penetration

    Try to find

    Justification

    For all of that

    Retaliation

    Originally written January 22, 2017

    By Erin de Blois

    ~ sometimes I just like to be silly.

    ~Dreams Made of Dust~

    I reached out

    In midnight dreams

    To simply touch your hair

    But you weren’t there

    And this ache in my soul

    Makes me feel so damned old

    My once beating heart

    Growing evermore cold

    And I don’t care

    Let it sink

    Let it drown

    Let them all shut me down

    I’ll be okay

    In my innermost mind

    Where we still dance and we dream and our souls intertwine

    Waking day never really mattered anyway.

    Originally written March 9, 2020

    By Erin de Blois

    Deciding to Be Okay

    Today has been a rotten day. Start to finish. But you know what? I’m walking out of this day knowing a few things:

    1) I won’t tolerate another liar in my world. Not now. Not ever.

    2) being sad – for a while – is okay. But deciding NOT to be sad is empowering.

    3) I’m actually not a terrible person. Despite the fact that when I get angry I get REALLY angry, I’m not a bad person. Mad as I can get I still wish the best for people. Even when the best includes them getting slapped with some reality, I am still thinking about them developing into the best them. (I’m sure at least a handful of people will not understand that – that’s okay.)

    4) I LIKE me. I LIKE the weird in me and the crazy in me and the fiery b*tch in me. I like that I am empathetic and compassionate and that I don’t give up easy. I like that I fight for what I believe in and I like even better that I now fight for ME.

    Today’s been rough. REALLY rough. I cried most of the day. But tonight I’ll sleep. And I’ll be okay. And tomorrow I will forge my way onto a new path that will continue building me into who I am meant to be. And dammit I’m meant to be glorious. Those that can’t see that… jog on.

    Cheers y’all. 🥃🥃

    ~E.

    ‘Round the Mulberry Bush

    I walked into 2020 on top of the world. I literally had never felt more alive in my life. I had hopes and they felt attainable for the first time. Ever.

    It’s funny how things shift. How the reflection in the mirror changes. How things fall apart and the cardboard facade blows away with the first gust of wind.

    Today… I am not feeling okay. I am not feeling hopeful. I am not feeling secure.

    Today I feel lost. And far too broken to ever be repaired.

    I speak a lot about not giving up. About being grateful for the trials. But truth be told, today I want to crumble into dust.

    I wonder sometimes, if there is a God – and I firmly believe there is – why it is that he puts me through so much when there are so many who turn their backs on him and seem to prosper. I wonder sometimes what it is that I have done so wrong to have to pay penance after penance.

    This is self-pity talking today. And dammit, I’m entitled to it right now. I know it’s not “acceptable” in social terms. But fuck the social terms. Today I want to cry. So cry I shall.

    I gave up a life I wasn’t happy with but it was familiar and comfortable and it was “okay”. I expected the lows. I knew how to handle them. I gave it up in hopes of finding something better. And I thought I had.

    And I’m speaking quite broadly here. There is not “one” thing that’s leading me here today, but many. Basically everything right now… everything is askew and ajar and a little off balance. Some of it is a LOT off balance…

    I thought I had found better. I was excited and anxious to begin re-discovering ME.

    So foolish… so naive.

    Folks… I’m strong as fuck, okay? I’ve hit some pretty deep lows and I’ve pulled myself up. And each time I get stronger. I build more muscles in the trenches than I ever would on solid ground. But, come the fuck on. I’m tired of always fighting just to come in last. It’s exhausting. And honestly I just don’t want to fight anymore. Today I have no fight left.

    Today I am struggling to stay away from people that are bad for me. But stay away I will. Because I’m not making a U-turn in my world. I’ve gone to far to look backwards now.

    Today I am struggling not to drown myself in a very large bottle of straight whiskey. But I will not. I won’t touch one drop today. Whiskey (etc) is just as bad for me as some of the people in my past have been.

    Today I am struggling – quite honestly – to NOT give up. But giving up isn’t an option. What gets better if I give up? Not one fucking thing. That’s what. So I won’t give up. I will persevere. I will hold tight to the raft as it’s thrown down a river afflicted by life’s hurricanes. And you bet your ass I’ll arrive – someday – at the shore. And the sun will shine. And I WILL be okay.

    But for today… for today I think it’s okay to let myself not be okay for a bit. To cry and yell and be heartbroken and angry at the universe in the same breath. Today I think that’s adequate. And acceptable. Whether anybody else likes it or not.

    And today, I will post this message without really telling anybody what it means. And that’s okay too. You all can interpret as you see fit. One of the joys of writing is allowing the reader to feel whatever they want to feel and to imagine whatever they want to imagine. This is just another short story for you to identify emotion with, get lost in, or discard. It’s off my heart now regardless.

    Here’s to sometimes dancing alone in the dark. 🥃

    ~E.

    March 7, 2020

    It’s strange the shift in paradigm that slowly makes me lose my mind whilst I discover myself all the same.

    As if a thief were robbing my spirit in the wee hours of night.

    ~Erin de Blois

    ———–

    I woke last night with the above words lingering in my head, like sleepy shadows of a time long forgotten. And as wrote these words furiously, before my waking mind could let me forget, I began to ponder the way we allow others to shape us. Change us to their own whims. We let others take bits of us away with them – these souls that don’t offer themselves in return. They steal our light, our hope… They set our standards for the next encounter. Some make us stronger. Some make us jaded and afraid.

    Why do we allow those that don’t care enough to truly love us as we are to steal the best parts of us? Why do we let those parts be kept hidden away under lock and key, sheltering them from the ones that should see them? Why do we let our minds and hearts be broken by those that never cared enough to put a patch on our soul?

    They steal into our thoughts, and rip out our joys, replacing them with fear and sorrow.

    And yet it appears to be human nature to allow this. We know better. We all do. But in the moment, we become so blinded that we mistake tears for happiness.

    It’s loves conundrum. A constant push and pull of tides within ourselves.

    Will it ever change? I’m honestly not sure that it should. These moments bring bittersweet poetry to our souls. Perhaps they are, in fact, a perfect part of the human experience.

    ~E.

    Amazing Things

    My friends – amazing things happen when you purposely decide to change your outlook and revise your perspective.

    Ah. May. Zing. Things.

    Decidedly change how you interact with that co-worker that irritates you – decide to smile at them even when you want to scream. (Not one of those creepy “I could strangle you” smiles, but a genuine one!) and you will see an almost immediate difference in your interactions. For the better.

    Choose to let the small stuff slide off your back and you will see an almost immediate difference in both your inward and outward feelings and reactions. For the better.

    Be kind on purpose and you will find people being kind to you.

    Pick laughter over a sour expression, and indeed the world will laugh WITH you. Not AT you.

    Choose your day. Make today brighter for yourself with determination and a dose of charisma. Your world will brighten because of it.

    Cheers y’all. Have an EXCELLENT weekend!

    ~E.

    December

    Hello my sweet

    Long time no see

    Did you come by to toy with me?

    Your breath is ice

    Against my skin

    I close my eyes and dive in again

    Divine this light

    This futile fight

    That makes us quiver with utmost delight

    The facade of hope

    The embrace of sorrow

    So much still to do but I’ll do it tomorrow

    Leave me be now

    Run far far away

    Heavy hearts don’t need a heart that will stray

    Sell your soul

    A slice for a dime

    Forget the wonder that’s been swallowed with time

    Nothing dwells deep here

    Nothing stays long

    Forgotten by a world that’s gone oh so wrong

    Shine the flashlight

    In the fissure of day

    It doesn’t matter – nothing to see here anyway

    Reach down in the pit

    And pull out old bones

    Shattered and fractured and cold as a stone

    Go back to denial

    Put yourself back on trial

    And remember that not even a promise is final

    Shy away now

    The day’s just begun

    Spiral right down and fall under the sun

    Spit out the poison

    Of beautiful trust

    Do away with a heart that’s made of nothing but rust

    Originally written December 29, 2019

    By Erin de Blois

    The art of compassion

    I am a work in progress. I’ve been through the wringer on more scales than most people can identify with. I’ve given up on myself more often than all others combined have given up on me. And there’s been a smorgasbord of people who have given up on me.

    A smorgasbord.

    A few years back I realized that giving up on myself was not an option. By giving up on myself I was also giving up on my children. And my family. And my friends. So no more of that BS, thanks very much.

    When I got that point where I realized that I was actually valuable here in this world – and believe me when I say that was a long process in itself – I began trying to show others the same within themselves. That each of us has value. Even when we can’t see it in ourselves. Even when we don’t want to see it in ourselves.

    So… I’ve been wronged by people. We all have. The details of those wrongs don’t matter right now – perhaps another day I will share some of that – but what does matter is how I’ve chosen to address those wrongs.

    So let me digress for a moment and slide off to the side to shed some relevant light.

    I’ve been the person who was alone when I desperately needed somebody – anybody – to care. I was the person who struggled silently for years, and then I was the person who struggled solo when people turned their backs on my cries for help. And, because I now understand what that feels like – the utter loneliness and despair that accompanies struggling alone – I refuse to be another person who turns a blind eye. I will not – nay: CANNOT – be that person.

    That said…

    I’ve been wronged. Sometimes severely. But I’ll be damned if I will walk away from somebody who is hurting. Even if they have have walked away from me. Even if they have scarred my soul. Even if they have broken my spirit.

    Friend or foe, I will never let somebody suffer alone. Because that is, in my humble opinion, one of the cruellest things somebody can do to another human being.

    Compassion doesn’t come easy. And often there is a price tag. Sometimes a monetary one. Almost always an emotional one. But it’s a price worth paying.

    Yes, there are boundaries. I’m not going to let every whimpering Willy scam me. I’m not going to let myself be used or taken advantage of. (Not to say neither of those have happened in the past, but each new error in judgement brings wisdom for the next time, so hey, it’s not all bad!) Being compassionate is not the same as being a sucker. But if I can stress one point to my post today, it’s that finding compassion for others – especially for your enemies – is one of the greatest things you can do for yourself, and this world.

    So go forth and be a beacon of hope to somebody. Even something as simple as buying coffee for the homeless guy outside your office will make a difference in the universe. But if you can spare a moment to simply listen to somebody’s story, you will make a bigger impact than you can ever understand.

    Be good to each other, my friends. Even when it’s hard. Especially when it’s hard.

    ~E.

    Surprising Encounters

    Today I had a chance conversation in which I made a “joking” remark about myself that was, well, more serious than joke. It was self-depreciating. It was me being unkind to me, because – simply put – I often don’t feel worthy of anything else.

    My remark didn’t go unnoticed. In fact it was quietly, but pointedly addressed with some insightful advice along the lines of (paraphrasing here) if I don’t have confidence in myself nobody else will.

    An accurate assessment and one that I myself preach to others despite not following that rule of thumb. It’s one of those “do as I say, not as I do” things for me. Or, perhaps more bluntly put: learn from my mistakes. Heh.

    In any case, today’s conversation was necessary in my world. Particularly at this strange impasse I’ve found myself in as of late, where I do in fact feel as though I am more burden than anything else. It served as a gentle reminder that indeed I am valuable. That indeed I need to acknowledge that in myself. And that, more than anything, I need to express that to the world. Without being egotistical, or self-centred. I must simply not accept being told I’m less than I am. Especially not when it’s me telling myself.

    Easier said than done. BUT… a few years back I used to write a morning post on my personal Facebook page, wherein I would start the day by stating one simple reason that I kicked ass.

    So, that said… here is why I Kick Ass today:

    I am hella compassionate, sympathetic and empathetic.

    And that my friends will be my kick start to reminding myself that I am more than I’ve allowed my own words to say as of late.

    Cheers y’all. Go be you and don’t let this weary world tell you you are anything less than f*cking spectacular.

    E.

    Special Thanks to the new friend who gave me unbiased feedback today. Much appreciated, homie. More than you will ever know.

    A Dash of Repair

    Lift your dreams to the air

    Lift your arms in despair

    Feel the crash

    Scratch the rash

    Of loves unusual dare

    —-

    Hear the break of the bone

    While you throw the first stone

    Losing sight of those things

    Dropping grip on those strings

    You thought you had known

    —-

    Oh but let love be shown

    To know we aren’t alone

    —-

    Stitch on a fresh patch

    Whip up a fresh batch

    Clean the mess side by side

    While you sew up your pride

    And open the floodgate latch

    —-

    Always last

    Way too fast

    —-

    Tap your glass to tomorrow

    Dwell upon all the sorrow

    Wash off yesterdays tears

    As you drink today’s beers

    And pretend this love isn’t borrowed

    —-

    Lather, rinse, repeat

    Run away on your feet

    While you talk in glorious circles

    About all of the little miracles

    That you let crash to the floor in defeat

    —-

    Raise your hands to the air

    Colour your dreams with despair

    As you realize this is beyond repair

    Originally written March 2nd & 3rd, 2020 by Erin de Blois

    To the hurt and hurting…

    In my days on Facebook in have spouted a lot of “laundry” out there. I initially did this as a way to repel my inner toxins. To vent when I had nobody to vent to face-to-face, or even over the phone. Writing the poison out of my blood, bluntly, vehemently, and point blank (as it were), was my sanity during an insane time.

    I didn’t go about that the right way at that time. But it DID keep me from losing my mind entirely.

    Since those early days of finding my voice, my posts became more about socially sensitive topics. I speak a lot now about my own encounters with suicide. Of my own walk with faith. Of abortion. (I am pro-life btw, but I also don’t believe that holding judgement over others is beneficial so you will get none of that from me.) I’ve spoken of social inclusion and exclusion – and have highlighted time and again that I believe we are ALL human and deserving of peace, happiness and love no matter our race, religion, sexual orientation, past, or place of origin.

    I write in hopes of shedding new perspective. In hopes of helping somebody who’s drowning internally to escape their own emotional waters in a safe and healthy way.

    My own life has not been easy or comfortable. I have been through a lifetime of emotional and physical abuse. I was raped at age 13 by a “friend”. I was ostracized and ridiculed when I finally told somebody about it a year and a half later. My first suicide attempt came that year in a bottle of Tylenol. Nobody even noticed. Clearly it didn’t work because I’m still here.

    At fifteen I tried cutting my wrists but couldn’t bring myself beyond the pain threshold. So I had minor slits on each wrist that clotted rapidly. Again, nobody noticed. And I suppose, looking back, that’s okay.

    I was told over and over again – by people that “loved” me – that I was worthless. I was ugly. I was fat. That I was incapable of being really loved.

    I got married at 19 and was married for twelve years. I’ll skip the ugly stuff there, as the ex and I have since become amicable “frenemies”, but I did leave that marriage. At the time, it was my only option. But it took a long time for me to realize that it was indeed the right thing for me to do.

    A few months later I tried to kill myself again. What brought me to that point was a combination of a failed marriage, deep depression, a job loss just 4 days after moving into my new “single abode”, whilst leaving my children with the ex for the time being in order to avoid uprooting them more than need be – I later realized how wrong I was to do that, as I think they felt I was abandoning them, even though my mind was telling me I was doing the right thing for them… I had bills pile up (as one does when there is no income) and I remember getting a cut-off notice from the electric company one day and that notice – silly as it sounds – was the final straw for me. That day I left a note in the bible on my bed with instructions for my funeral and I left the house to kill myself in a field far from home. I started cutting my wrists with a box cutter and eventually escalated to digging violently into them with my own fingernails. A friend stopped me. Thank God.

    After that attempt, my wrists became so inflamed and infected that I couldn’t even carry a loaf of bread for months. Another friend called social services and I was picked up by police one night and taken to the psyche ward. FUN times.

    That was sarcasm. No. It was not fun times.

    When I was released, I spent the next four months laying on my living room floor staring at the ceiling and talking to ghosts in my mind. I lost my mind during that time and much of it is blurry… I remember laying in bed and not wanting to move. I remember I didn’t even want to eat. I dropped 80 pounds in four months… yes. 80.

    I would sit at my kitchen table doing puzzles from morning to night and conversing with demons that I perceived to be very real. I remember having this feeling as if a switch was being flipped from one reality to the next, and I would jolt – physically jolt – from being mentally present to being mentally gone. And even once I began healing – actually really healing – I still felt that switch for many years. Just not as often.

    I lied to a lot of people in the early days. I told a lot of people I was fine when I really was not. I made up excuses for my behaviour and for things that were going on. I found reasons to cancel appointments and outings. And I left a lot of people thinking I didn’t care when, in fact, the trouble was how very much I did care. I cared so much that I couldn’t get out of my own head long enough to know how to care properly.

    I remember laying on my living room floor one night in my empty house alone and hearing God tell me – audibly – that I would be okay. THAT was my turning point. Whether you believe or not, I heard that voice as if he’d been standing beside me. The next day I started seeking counselling. And I went to counselling twice a week for 6 months. Once a week for the next six months. And once every two weeks for the following six months. Then I downgraded to every month or so as needed.

    During this time – my dark times – I was also in a relationship with somebody who was incredibly manipulative. He threatened to kill me (odd, reflecting now, that I wanted so badly to leave this world but the thought of being killed by somebody else was so terrifying to me…) This was a man who tried violently shoving me out of his moving vehicle on the highway. A man who was mean to my kids. A man who physically abused me repeatedly. Who insisted that I drive to Vegas with him for a pool tournament – entirely on my dime – and then accused me of making him lose the tournament and told me he was leaving me there and I could find my own way home – while he held onto my bank card. This was a man who cheated on me with multiple women. Who always had an excuse not to be there when I needed him but would spout hatred at me when I had to go to work and he needed something. It could be as simple as needing a pack of cigarettes but if I wasn’t providing for him I was threatened, screamed at, and belittled. This was a man who, when I finally told him I was leaving, threatened to kill me and kill himself. A man who called me several times telling me had drank a cup of bleach, that he was driving into river, that he was heading into the mountains to drive off a cliff and each time I called 9-1-1 he told them I was crazy and I was making it up. I still have the voice mails and emails that I got from him at that time. But oh no, I was the crazy one.

    I stayed in that relationship far too long. Six years. I still ask myself why. But in hindsight I’m glad for it. Because THAT period of my life made me stronger. It broke me in many ways, yes. It left scars on my soul that will likely never heal. But it made me stronger. When I finally had the courage to walk away, I walked away knowing myself better than I could ever have without that trauma. I walked away more determined than I ever thought I could be. I walked away and decided to be confident. To use my voice. To be me. And to hell with what anybody else thought of that.

    I walked away knowing that I would never allow myself to be abused again. Not like that. Never. Ever. Again.

    These things here… these are fragments. These are small pieces of the puzzle that is Erin. These are; however, incredibly and undeniably important pieces. And I am as thankful for the sorrows as I am for the joys – and despite my melancholy ramblings above there were, of course, joys.

    I remember being asked – more than once actually – how I could stay so un-jaded.

    It’s because I choose to be so.

    I will not allow my past to determine who I am. Not for one moment. Does it affect me? Yes of course. Do I have moments where I am thrown back into how I felt back then? Absolutely. Are there times when I react based on instinct brought forth by those traumas? Indeed there are.

    But despite those moments, I won’t let my past control how I view the world. I refuse to become bitter and angry and I refuse to shelter myself “just in case”. Of course I have days when I’m angry, and of course I have moments when I’m bitter and snippy and down-right ugly inside. Of course I have moments when I want to hide in the safety of solitude. And in those moments I will dance with my darkness for a bit. But I won’t let it consume me. I cannot.

    Today, I try to use my own experiences in walking through hell to help others get through their own hell. Today I try to express to people that I understand the waves of depression, the way it can play tricks on your mind, and the way it alters our perception and our actions. Today I try to let others know they are not alone. That these moments – as painful as they are – are simply slivers of our bigger picture. That we all walk through our own versions of hell. And that even when we stumble we are indeed capable of getting back up and finding our way back to ourselves.

    And more than anything I try to express to people how very important it is to ask for help.

    There is no shame in asking for help. And there are so many people who can and will help others in need. Discreetly. Lovingly. And emphatically.

    Friends… I have waltzed with the devil. If you ever find yourself on that same ballroom floor, please reach out. I will listen. I will be here. I will never ever pass judgement for your past, or your thoughts, or your actions. But please don’t ever let your demons pull you down to that place where you can’t see anything but death. That is indeed a terrifying, albeit romantic, place to be. If you find yourself there, reach out. To anybody. But my arms are always open and I always have a free hand to help you up. Knock on my door and I will answer and I will help you find your footing again. But please don’t let the illusions that depression can bring become your reality or your end. They are just that – illusions.

    We must remember that these thoughts are tricks. You are not worthless. You are not unloved or unlovable. You are not a blight on this earth. You are valuable, and you are needed here. And more than that – you are necessary.

    Much love to each and every one of you. No matter your walk.

    Erin.

    January 30, 2018

    My heart is bleeding

    And it’s stopped beating

    Laying here

    In unspoken glory

    No more story

    Too late to mourn

    Too fresh to leave

    And all I seem to do is grieve

    Deceive deceive

    Fresh tears fall down

    Upon the snow

    I can’t let go of all I know

    Drop me off

    Leave me be

    Don’t you see

    I’m not even good enough for me.

    (I can’t break free)

    Goodbye goodnight

    But there’s nothing good about it

    And I will fight I will kick

    I will scream until I’m sick

    But not one damned thing

    Will ever do the trick

    So let me be

    Let me bleed

    Let me cry until I can’t see

    And go ahead tell me what it is you think I need.

    Fucking hypocrisy

    As if I have leprosy

    And you treat me like a sad disease

    I don’t need your sympathy

    Your pity

    Your “sad for me” look

    Take your coat from my hook

    And shuffle on by.

    I’m goddamned tired of living a lie.

    Now leave me be and let my heart finally die.

    Originally written January 30, 2018

    By Erin de Blois

    ———————–

    This one was born from a lot of heartache. It’s one I do not personally re-read often. It may not be the best writing I have ever done but it is perhaps some of the most raw and naked emotion I have spilled onto a page.

    ~For dreamless nights~

    Ready to lay down

    Give up this shell

    Walk into the mire

    The murk and the hell

    Drop down and below

    She sings a soft song

    While cautiously waltzing

    And dreaming along

    Sing no sad jingles

    Ring no glad bells

    Just remove the nettles

    The needles and spells

    Burn the notes and the chords

    Of hearts gone today

    While facing the demons

    And ghosts gone astray

    Lay down

    Down down

    This soulless whisper of dreams

    Pull apart

    Pull apart

    This heart at the seams

    Originally written January 20, 2020

    By Erin de Blois

    ————————

    This particular piece was written in a sudden wave of sadness that washed over me due to a conversation I was having with somebody earlier in the day, and is about the dance with loneliness and romanticized notions of how very mortal we are – our souls as delicate and as intricate as a faberge egg.

    How quickly we crack when pressure is applied to our weakest points. How rapidly we crumble when life and love swings its mallet at us.

    Yet somehow we persevere. We push through the hard times and become stronger for it. We restitch the fabric of our being into a beautiful Frankenstein spirit, and we pass our lessons down to those more fortunate than we had been. Fortunate merely by way of knowing somebody who has walked their path before – somebody who can help them navigate. We remind others that they are not alone. That if we can get through this life, they certainly can too.

    ~To the struggle 🥂

    Erin.

    Conversing with the past

    I had a brief conversation today – midday – that threw me into the throes of yesteryear and yesterFEAR. A conversation about the need to let go of things that are harmful.

    Why do we hold so fast to these things, these demons of the night, that haunt us and weigh us down? Why are we so afraid to let go of our “UNcomfort zones”?

    I believe the dance with familiarity is what keeps us tied to these places, these spaces, and these faces. The fear of change, because – after all – the devil you know may just be better than the devil you don’t. (To misquote what is indeed a tired old adage.)

    While we all know change is good for the soul and good for personal growth, we all (or mostly all, I would guess) fear it to some degree. Whether it’s letting go of an old trinket that reminds you of times long past, or a person who kept you bound up in the confines of seeming “normalicy”. We all have trouble letting go of something.

    I’m currently struggling to release a small sliver of time that impacted my soul with such ferocity that I felt I couldn’t breathe without it. Despite knowing that holding on would destroy me.

    What are you struggling to let go of? And can you step outside the boundaries of your own mind and heart to ask why? I personally believe it’s healthy to ask oneself such questions, but mayhap I’m incorrect. Maybe it is in fact better to walk away and never look in the review mirror.

    Thoughts?

    Erin.

    Simple humanities for an anxious heart

    Hi. My name is Erin. I have, and do, suffer from extreme waves of both depression and anxiety. Both of which have the ability to incapacitate me, and make me outwardly shut down, while inwardly I’m beating against the unrelenting steel bars of emotion that I am utterly trapped in. Desperately trying to escape my own mind.

    “I’m in a glass cage of emotion!” ~Ron Burgandy

    I am not “shy”. I am quiet. I keep to myself. But I am not shy. You want to talk one on one? Absolutely you can ask me anything, and I have no problem sharing my world with you. I have no issue sharing my thoughts. I have no qualms about sharing my past or present demons.

    But throw me into a crowd and I feel as though I may suffocate. I will scan the room repeatedly in silence while I try to veil my sweaty palms and shaky limbs with nervous laughter and “deer in the headlights” eyes.

    I am not shy. But I have an extreme fear of crowds. I don’t frequent malls. I don’t like going to restaurants that are busy. If I ever go a pub (which is few and far between) you’ll find me at the pub that only seems to have one or two other patrons, in the back corner where I can easily watch everybody.

    Crowds make me feel like the world is caving in around me. I rarely handle that feeling gracefully. More often than not I end up clawing for oxygen in a race to escape out of the nearest door.

    That said… every so often there exist people in my realm who actually understand this. Who help me navigate. Who show me that I am not in that crowd alone – even if my panic is not a feeling they themselves share. They get it. They stand with me and make sure I am still breathing. And I want to say that I cannot state strongly enough how much that simple kindness means to me.

    There are those moments where I feel so stuck in my own head that I physically can’t move. When somebody crosses my path that both sees and genuinely understands that part of me – without judgment – I am always amazed. When there are a number of people that care enough to talk me through it, that just blows me away.

    When I freeze like that I feel very much like a lost little girl again. I’m thrown into the foggy haze of my youth where I was too afraid to even speak at all. To find people that can pull me out of that… there are no words to express how absolutely awesome that is.

    Thanks all. You let me breathe. Wine helps of course (haha) but really what makes the biggest difference is simply knowing I’m not there alone.

    Cheers.

    E.

    A glimpse of the past…

    She sits in the dark and ponders

    Wondering when

    Wondering how

    Planning, but not knowing what she’s planning for

    She spends her time wondering

    Feeling lost

    Feeling invisible

    Voices screaming in her head

    She knows what to do

    But can’t bring herself to do it

    Every moment of strength is quickly followed by her questioning her sanity

    She closes her eyes and pretends

    Just for a moment

    That she’s okay

    That she’s far away

    That nothing else can hurt her today

    Silenced by his anger

    Shut out by his obsessions

    Her thoughts turn to darkness

    But, quickly, she repents.

    Again.

    And she wonders if it’s her.

    She wonders if she’s the crazy one

    She wonders if he’s been right all along

    And that all of this is her own fault

    Disaster brought to life by her own hands

    She lays there in the dirt

    Feeling it cool her skin

    And she wants to stay there

    Lay there

    Just like this

    How beautiful and tragic

    This girl… Found in the dirt

    Fractured inside

    But nothing you can see

    Nothing you can detect

    She died peacefully of course

    She often runs that blade along her wrist

    And she wonders if he’d miss her then

    Or just her bank account…

    And she puts the knife away

    Resigning to stay for one more day

    …but no longer for him.

    She stays for them. Only them.

    She thinks about it…

    She wonders if she could leave

    Pack a suitcase and just vanish quietly into the night

    Change her name

    Change her address…

    Just disappear…

    But no.

    Not without them.

    And she’s afraid

    She’s afraid of the solitude, despite dancing with it for oh-so-long that it has a comforting glow

    She’s afraid of the loss

    So much loss in recent years…

    She’s afraid of the judgement

    (But they’re judging you already, my dear!)

    And she’s afraid of starting new

    And she has no idea what it is she should do

    Her heart says so much…

    But she knows. She knows.

    And this never grows…

    She’s tired of excuses

    Of broken trusts and twisted words

    She’s tired of being accused when she knows she’s done nothing…

    She’s tired of the anger and the fights and the lengthy stress-filled nights

    She dreams of being free

    Free to sing and dance and laugh and play

    Free to speak and joke and share her day

    Free to have a say…

    But she backs down. And she feels dismay.

    She hates herself for hanging on to something she knows has gone oh-so-wrong

    Something that’s been wrong for so damned long

    And she prays for solace

    Peace of mind

    She prays…

    And still she stays.

    And the relationship continues to fray.

    She looks around and sees smiling faces and brilliant spaces

    And she feels so locked away

    So caged

    So distant

    So helpless and hopeless and so heartbroken.

    But she stays. And she doesn’t know how to have it any other way.

    And all she wants to do is go away.

    She sleeps a sleep filled with demons and screams

    And she pretends she’s in the dirt

    …long, black skirt

    And she smiles

    Because for a moment it all goes away.

    Originally written December 27, 2016

    By Erin de Blois

    ——————–

    The above piece was a compilation of a lot of past hurts and traumas. I have been through abuse – let me tell you emotional abuse is just as damaging (if not more so in some cases) than physical abuse. I spent a long time feeling locked up and locked away and worthless. Through much of my earlier years I was afraid to speak – at all. I stayed silent more often than not. I was secluded and isolated and felt I had nowhere to turn and nobody who cared.

    I thought of suicide often. I attempted twice. My last attempt was July 17, 2012.

    I truly felt alone and unwanted. And coming back from that was a long, LONG, journey. But with much counselling and support from friends that I didn’t even realize I had I made it through my “dark times”. Faith saved me. Looking deeper into myself healed me. And I’m far away from that place now.

    I still think it’s important for me to dance with my demons from time to time. To embrace them. Hold them close and examine them for a time. For me, if I don’t do that, I will end up back where I was. Examining where I am, why I am here, how I got here, and exactly how I feel about it, are key to my growth. Doing this is what helps keep me strong when I want to crumble. Facing my past and my fears and my ugly, self-destructive emotions is what keeps me from slipping back into the realm of insanity. If that makes any sense at all.

    Some ask why I share these deeply personal things. I share them because I am not ashamed of my past. My past made me who I am today. I share my experiences to let others know that these moments of self-doubt are just moments. Sometimes they stretch on for years but they WILL pass.

    Persevere. Don’t be afraid to ask yourself hard questions about your own spirit. Don’t let the fear of change stop you from pushing forward. Whoever you are, you are unique and wonderful just as you are in this very moment. Even if you can’t see that in yourself. We all have purpose. We all impact others in a positive way. Even if we never know it. I promise you that you have made a difference – a great and grand difference – in somebody’s world. And you will continue to do so.

    For those that are struggling please feel free to reach out to me anytime. I promise a unbiased ear, and a supportive shoulder.

    Thanks for reading.

    ~E.

    #writerslift

    #WritingCommunity

    -Monster Ballroom-

    Put your foot in your mouth

    There’s room for one more

    Utter nonsense and drivel

    As you slam the front door

    Start the car

    Drive away

    It’s always the same

    No pain no gain

    Just push them away

    Alone you lay

    In a dirty motel

    Dwelling on last nights

    Passage through hell

    A hell you designed

    Within your own mind

    Try to fight

    It doesn’t matter

    The devil plays kind

    Turn it over and over

    Can’t figure it out

    Punch the wall throw a lamp

    Scream cry kick and shout

    (What did I do

    Oh what have I done

    This damage this scar

    And I can blame no one)

    Leave the door open and drive on back home

    Only to find you’re still there alone

    Grab the flask by the sink

    And swim in a drink

    Of decay and disaster

    (You poor foolish bastard)

    Time will tell I suppose

    But will it tell you too late?

    Save your soul with a verse

    As you dump out your proverbial purse

    And dance on through the hall

    In your imaginary monster ball.

    ~E.

    Originally written December 29, 2019

    By Erin de Blois

    Reflection is 2020

    Last year – 2019 – was an exceptionally difficult year. Looking back I ask myself what year hasn’t been exceptionally difficult? But last year felt particularly hard in ways I simply wasn’t expecting.

    2019… I struggled. A lot.

    I spent time in the hospital early into the year due to stress related issues. I had to learn how to step back, step out, and shut off. And that was far from easy for me.

    I watched what I thought to be a solid friendship crumble into the bitter ashes of blame and betrayal. It broke me. It humbled me. And it made my heart very very cold for what felt like eternity.

    I pondered, and eventually decided to pursue, a career change from a job I absolutely loved in search of “work-life balance”. And I’ll tell you that was a heartbreaking choice to make but a necessary one.

    I faced some demons – and some hard fast truths about myself – openly, for the first time, that I had been carrying in solitude for long while. Some of them for the majority of my life. I lost some people because of it. I walked away from others in order to save myself.

    2019 was a year of emotional change and evolution. As I turned 40 in early November I couldn’t see anything but heartache ahead. By the end of December I was feeling optimistic and hopeful for the first time in many many years.

    December 2019…

    The month brought with it a job change. A difficult and honestly scary transition from a world I knew inside out into an unfamiliar land. And, truth be told, I’m still adjusting to the change and still trying to navigate back into a sort of comfort zone.

    I also began what has, to date, been an amazing and fruitful relationship with my incredible Kevin. He has been my sanity, my bravery, and my mirror. Two months in and it feels as though we’ve been together for all time. To say I wasn’t looking for this kind of connection would be blatant lie. But in truth, I never expected I would find it. Never thought I would ever feel good enough to be accepted as I am. Flaws and all. And yet, here I am.

    To say I am grateful would be gross understatement.

    2019 brought heartache. But the close of the year also brought hope for healing. Hope for better days. Hope for a brighter future. And courage to persevere.

    Today, as I write this, my heart feels content. My head feels (mostly) clear. I feel accepted. I feel loved. And I feel more worthy of those things than I can remember ever feeling.

    …I was going to end this here. Vague. Non-committal. But let’s expand, briefly on what I learned over the past year, shall we?

    I learned how to say no. I learned that it is, in fact, okay for me to say no to people. Both at “home” and at work. That it’s okay for me to set boundaries and keep those boundaries firmly in place.

    I learned that I am worth more than “maybes”. Also, I learned that no matter how badly I want to save somebody I cannot save somebody that doesn’t want to be saved.

    I learned how important it is to remember the “reason and season” rule: that everybody comes into our lives for a reason and that some are only there for a season. And it’s okay to let the seasons change.

    I learned how to use my voice. And while I still live by “quick to listen; slow to speak” it is okay for me to speak my mind. To share my opinions. And to talk about things that are not easy to talk about.

    I learned that I have an addict mentality: all or nothing. And I am still learning how to conquer that.

    I learned that I can still love. And I also learned that it’s okay – and necessary – to walk away from toxicity.

    I learned how to feel comfortable in my own skin. Something I have struggled with since I was 11 years old. And today I feel more confident in my body, in all of its glorious imperfections, than I have ever felt.

    I learned that it’s okay to make mistakes. And that, while it’s not easy, one can pick oneself up and use those mistakes to better themselves, their outlook, and their relationships.

    I also learned that I can push myself harder than anybody else can. And I am still learning how to use that to make myself stronger.

    And I learned that sharing my own demons can help others face theirs.

    Am I done learning? No.

    Do I have a long journey ahead to get myself back to a fully healthy place? Yep. I sure do. But it will be a path worth walking.

    Here’s to 2020 being a year of growth. Evolution. And the never ending pursuit to purpose.

    Cheers y’all.

    Erin.

    Dancing with Memory

    I wrote this two years ago today. My stance remains the same.

    Every so often I get lost in bittersweet nostalgia… missing my friends from yesteryears… missing those moments of my youth that were filled with such elation… I long for that feeling again… to see those faces… to revisit those places… I miss so many – past and present… strange how life takes our relationships and quarters them without mercy… sends us on different paths and shakes our foundations to the very core in such a way that makes retaining certain friendships impossible…

    Odd how we never see it coming. We live each moment as if it will last forever – the good and the bad… we believe, especially, that nothing can tear those special people from us. That we are invincible in our convictions, our adorations, and our various forms of life and love.

    Life has a way of stealing from us like a thief in the night. Silently. Unnoticed. And by the time we see the damage it’s all too frequently too late to reverse it.

    Oh yes… tonight I feel a melancholy ache in my soul.

    My friends… I treasure you. Please don’t ever forget that, no matter which way the wind takes us.

    ~E.

    For those that read my smorgasbord of writing:

    I will endeavour to post each day, and some of it will be garbage. Some of it will be brilliant. It doesn’t matter to me, honestly, how it comes out. I write for my sake and mine alone.

    I don’t edit my poetry, or my short (sometimes very short) stories after the fact (with the exception being a spelling error that’s found after the initial writing). I don’t edit it because, when I write, I’m writing to expel an emotion (or a toxin) that is key to that precise moment. Going back to edit that later on would taint that emotion with thought and feeling that wasn’t present in the initial moment. And I need those moments to remain true.

    This is merely my perspective on the matter. I understand and appreciate why many (if not most) people revisit their works to revise them. And of course it would be different if I was publishing a book or an article. (I would edit the sh*t out of that!) But when I’m writing simply from an emotion or an aura in the air, no. What you see in that is exactly where my head was in that precise moment. And those are important moments for me to be able to look back and reflect on as well. They are reminders of where I was and why I am who I am today.

    That said… feedback is always welcome. Encouraged. If anything I write touches you, enlightens you, angers you, or makes you laugh at my stupidity, please let me know.

    And I’m still learning how this WordPress thing works so bear with me when things come out in one big weird lump (a few of my past posts were copied from my journal app to this one and the formatting came out a bit off… couldn’t quite figure out how to fix that without doing a full re-type – which I did not have the time to do… Heh)

    Anyways I shall stop rambling. To those that read my infinite supply of emotional unload going forward – thank you for sharing a small sliver of my world with me. I hope I can inspire, or at the very least entertain, you.

    Cheers y’all.

    Erin.

    January 11, 2020

    She lost herself in hallways

    Of broken glass and blood stained dreams

    She wandered through each doorway

    Inspecting all the undone seams

    Flecks of memory on the breeze

    She wipes away the cobwebs

    In the corners of her mind

    She dances with old devils

    And every skeleton she finds

    Hearts don’t dwell here

    Hearts don’t stay

    Where loveless demons

    Demand to play

    The darkness it engulfs her

    Swallows her deep down into the shit

    Her flesh falls from her bones

    And her bones clatter into the pit

    And there they will forever sit.

    But it was just a photograph

    A picture from last year

    That brought her to the depths of hell

    And ensured she sowed but one last tear

    And it was just a memory

    Drifting idly by

    On a chilly summer breeze

    Just a silly memory

    That sunk her to her knees

    ~E.

    Originally written January 11, 2020 by Erin de Blois

    Side note:

    A while back I stopped titling most of my writing and simply used the date as the title. I did this because when I go back and re-read my own stuff (whether it’s good or bad) simply seeing the date will throw me back into the feeling of that day. And I believe it’s important to dance with our shadows and embrace our pasts from time to time. Our experiences have made us who we are and will continue shaping us us for years to come. We must acknowledge those things that hurt us. Those things that made us smile. Let ourselves get lost – for just a moment – in those memories and be grateful for where we are today. It will never be perfect. We will never feel completely satisfied. But we were not meant to. That is the perplexity of life itself. Constantly searching, growing and learning.

    The Poison Cloak

    I feel the cold hand of Time clasping my arm, chilling my soul.

    It’s comforting in a melancholy and gray way. And terrifying all at once.

    A dark cloak awaits me – do you see? Just down the hall. Just off to the left.

    Somewhere behind me I hear cautious whispers. Somebody telling me not to go. But oh! That cloak! Look at it!! So soft and inviting!

    And on I walk.

    I feel a dull ache in my bones now. My legs have grown heavy and the light has grown dim. And yet I’m not struggling to press on – the cloak is closer now. Almost in my grasp! Just a little further…

    The air has suddenly become damp. Cold mist that turns my skin to goose flesh.

    The lights have grown dim behind me now and the voices have faded with them. There it is… that long black cloak! At last! I can touch it…

    As my fingers caress the material there is a moment of elation! Every moment of heartache, every joy, every experience, every right and every wrong blends into one perfect fraction of euphoria.

    My hands close around the cloak and I pull it towards myself… but wait… something lurks inside!

    Out from the sleeve comes fingers of bone and my euphoria turns to horror. I try to pull back but the bony hand has clasped my wrist. I struggle and scream but nobody is left to hear me… my friends have vanished into the darkness behind me.

    The comforting grasp of Time has turned into the icy grip of Death. And my heart has stopped beating in my chest. I’m certain of it.

    Death pulls me closer to his grotesque smile… he embraces me. Dances with me. Brings me into the ballroom of the underworld. And we dance until my soul has warmed again.

    He spins me under his arm. And suddenly I’m entangled in his cloak, and he is gone.

    I’m there alone now. In this soft black cloak. I reach out for the rose Death left at my feet.

    And I stop.

    My fingers, once plump with the flesh of life are now gleaming white bones.

    The trick of it all! Time has turned me into Death.

    And now I stand at the end of a long hallway waiting for the next soul – the next Life – to free me from this poison cloak.

    Originally written April 16, 2017

    by Erin de Blois

    Poppy Seed

    Nothing is real

    She floats through the halls

    Time blends together

    And passes through walls

    A shadow on the basin

    A speck on the pane

    Wilting flowers bending

    And beaten by the rain

    She wanders down the avenue

    Distracted by the sound

    Of laughter, yelling, gratitude

    Once lost and never found

    She cannot tell the difference

    Night or day – it’s all the same

    She slides against the doorframe

    And crumbles beneath the shame

    Crying out for that little thing

    Simple yet complex

    No matter the number of tears that fall

    She cannot reverse the hex

    Lost or stolen

    She doesn’t know

    Ghosts in her mind

    Dust doth blow

    Run away run away

    But nowhere to hide

    Empty and hollow

    Nothing left inside

    Lay the blame and point the shame

    It’s all the same

    It’s all the same

    Nothing here is real now

    Just echoes in your mind

    Keep on reaching keep on searching

    So she’s never left behind

    ~E.

    Originally written March 11, 2017

    For My Lost Loves

    She sits on his lap
    Looks into his face
    He embraces her
    She’s safe in this space
    Small hands and big eyes
    Dark curly hair
    And yet most of the world
    Doesn’t know she was ever there
    She sings with him
    He lets her dance
    They laugh and they play
    A timeless place and endless glance
    The other children sit
    Folded legs, on a floor
    Covered in cloud dust
    Listening to stories forevermore
    And they wait
    Eternity to us; Mere seconds to them
    These precious lives
    Each one an unborn gem
    More precious than anybody
    Could ever hope to know
    Children in Heaven
    Making the stars glow

    I originally wrote this on February 17, 2017 for my children lost to miscarriage, but also for all children lost – both inside and outside the womb.