Horror Show

The breaths are shallow

And labored 

As the chest rises and falls. 

The constant beeping of the respirators

Can almost be tuned out by my mind. 

There is an air of sadness 

It’s heavy

But also silent. 

As if nobody wants to talk about it. 

As if not addressing it means it isn’t there. 

The aloneness gets to me

Being in pain alone 

Being scared alone. 

This will only continue to be the norm,

And my empathetic little heart

Feels it all. 

Self Worth

I have acne– presently and in the past. These pictures were taken a year and 3 months apart, and yet I can recall all of the feelings that these photos evoke. I remember the days of waking up and crying after looking myself in the mirror. I remember the pain of having such inflamed, angry skin. I remember the feeling of people staring at my face when I left the house, and never wanting to leave the house at all. Not only did I not want other people looking at me, but I didn’t even want to look at myself. Having acne as bad as I did made serious damage to my mental health. I felt like I wasn’t pretty or good enough. My self worth plummeted as I tried to find a solution to zero avail. I tried everything under the sun, but nothing worked. I lost hope with every possible solution that failed to provide me relief.

Society has made it so hard to love the body you are in. The impossible beauty standards of never being skinny enough, having acne, having stretch marks and scars, have been shown to take a toll on the mental health of so many men and women my age. Not looking like the people that are praised by social media platforms only adds to the depreciating self worth.

I was forced to make the conscious decision to not let myself tear myself apart for every imperfection that graced my face. It wasn’t easy by any means, but I knew I deserved to give myself love since the world around me was so quick to tell me I didn’t deserve it.

“You must first love yourself first before the world will reciprocate”

Self-love is a journey of acceptance. By accepting the things that you may not like about yourself (my acne for me), you take the power away from all of those hurtful people who look and start at you. It no longer bothers me when I get a new breakout or I feel someone staring at me because I have accepted that acne is part of my life, despite my skin improving tremendously over the past year. I consciously remind myself that I am more than just my skin. I am smart, kind, empathetic, selfless, driven, compassionate, and so many more things, that will not be eclipsed by societal standards of beauty.

So, I will leave you with these affirmations of self-love:

  1. I am a beautiful person
  2. I deserve love, compassion, and empathy
  3. Happiness is found within
  4. Positive thinking creates positive change
  5. I accept myself unconditionally


This week I started a new job after months of applying with no hope. This pandemic has not only claimed lives, but their livelihoods as well. So, when I was presented with this opportunity, I was over the moon excited to accept it.

I feel as though most people believe that school teaches you everything you need to know to go into the career you hope to be in. However, given the perspective I have now, I can see how far from the truth that is. For example, you can read every book and watch every video on how to draw blood, start a central line, or do an IV draw, but until you are in a room with a patient, you truly haven’t experienced it. Hands on experience is truly the only way to learn a majority of the skills you need to persist in the medical field.

I didn’t have that hands on experience. I had very little practice in the role that I am now in, and I felt the pressure of not being capable very quickly. Within my first few days, I started to question if I even belonged in this role or if I was too over my head. I felt like I was drowning in information and couldn’t see the light at the end of the tunnel. Being the “newbie” in a wave of experiences doctors, nurses, and other hospital staff made me feel lost and inadequate. Then it clicked:

Everyone had to start from somewhere

Nobody was born with the skills necessary for this job and practice and a positive mindset were the only things that would give me confidence. I had to remind myself that healthcare is a collaborative effort and that every person on the healthcare team plays a role that allows for the best level of patient care. So, even me, the newbie of the team, was playing a vital role in the patient care process.

This post is not to say that studying isn’t important, but the purpose of this post is to say to not expect to be the perfect version of the healthcare role you are in right off the bat.

Excellence is perfected over time, not born overnight

So it is okay to feel anxious, or nervous, or not good enough on your first couple weeks in the role. Embrace those feelings as they are part of diving into a new experience. As long as you keep working at it and remind yourself why you are there, you will make it. You are just as important and valuable as all of your older, more experienced coworkers and deserve to be there just as much. You will find your purpose.


Lightning has always reminded me of anger.

The way it builds and intensifies

The energy particles collect in the sky 

And rage stirs inside the body

Until it reaches the point of overflow  

Unleashing at the drop of the hat.

Shocking everything in its path.

The lightning dissipates

The anger is soothed

And everything goes back to normal

Only to repeat the process again.


Today’s post is going to be a series of haikus I have written over the past week or so instead of one unified post. Hope you enjoy the change up of style. Let me know which haiku is your favorite in the comments below!


My mind wanders now

Into the endless abyss

Of my depression.


The weight of the world 

Is on my shoulders again 

Please don’t mess this up.


Head underwater 

Drowning in my own thoughts now 

Trying to surface.


Amelia Hatchett is a 7 year old orphaned girl who was adopted after her family died in a house fire when she was only a child. As the only living survivor, Amelia was put into foster care where she was adopted by a loving couple who dreamt of starting a family. Chris and Dana Hatchett has tried for several years prior to start a family, but lost the pregnancies each time. Just when they had given up, the Hatchett’s received a call from the Davenport City orphanage asking them if they would be interested in adopting a child. The Hatchett’s, eager to start a family, jumped at the opportunity and met with Amelia the very next day. 

The Hatchett’s loved Amelia immediately. Her love for painting was adored by Dana, as she was a painter herself. Shortly after meeting with Amelia, the Hatchett’s began initiating the adoption process. It was finalized within a couple of months and Amelia officially came home with the Hatchett’s shortly before her 7th birthday.

Amelia adjusted quickly to the transition. Having her own room was a dream, and she quickly covered the walls in her drawings and paintings. 

Nothing was out of the ordinary until Dana announced that she was pregnant, 2 years later. Amelia did not take it well as she had gotten used to being the only child for 2 years. Slowly, things started running amuck— birds flying into the windows, strange odors around the house, windows being opened in the middle of the night.

One night in particular, Amelia woke up screaming blood murder. As Chris and Dana run to Amelia’s room, the door was jammed. The screaming continues and then a loud crash occurs. Chris kicks down the door and sees Amelia on the floor crying, with all of the art from her walls surrounding her— all except 1 paining that remained. It was a painting of Dana laying in a bed bleeding. She was having a miscarriage. Amelia had never been told that Dana had had a series of miscarriages. Dana erupted in anger and tears as she ripped the painting off of the wall. Dana leaves the room in a ball of fury as Chris tells Amelia to go back to bed and then runs after her.

The next morning, Dana awakes in a pool of blood. She immediately thought Amelia’s painting had come true; she believed she was having a miscarriage. To her surprise, when she stood up, it wasn’t her own blood, but her husband’s. Chris’ neck was sliced clean through and he was cold and pale. Dana lets out a blood curdling scream and turns around— Amelia is outside of the door, smiling back at her. How could such an innocent girl kill someone? Was it even Amelia that killed Chris? She had no proof that Amelia was the killer, and neither did the police. Dana let her suspicions die down.

Grieving the death of her husband, Dana begs the orphanage to take Amelia until things settled down. They agree to take her for the rest of the month. When the car arrived at the Hatchett house for Amelia, she was devastated. She was being sent away again. All Amelia wanted was a family, someone to love her unconditionally. Being orphaned at such a young age, Amelia missed the feeling of true unconditional love. She wanted that feeling back. 

In the coming weeks, Amelia exhibited numerous temper tantrums, crying for Dana to come back and get her. Eventually, the time came where Dana did indeed come back for her. That night would be a night that would never be forgotten. 

On the drive home, Dana apologized for needing to send her back to the orphanage. Amelia played nice and said she understood and was glad that Dana was okay. She also asked about the baby. Dana replied that the baby was healthy and that it was a girl.  Amelia laughed wickedly. 

That night, Dana tucked Amelia in and went to her room. Anxiousness set in as Dana closed the door to her and her late husband’s room. She locked the door for her sanity and went to sleep.

The next day, Dana never woke up and Amelia was nowhere to be found. Dana’s body was found by police weeks later after friends reported her missing. Her belly had been cut open and the baby had been taken out her. Dana slowly bled out. It was presumed that Amelia was the culprit, but how was a 9 year old capable of such horrendous things? How did she know how to correctly perform a C-section without harming the baby? These are questions that remain unanswered as Amelia was never found, and neither was the baby. The story of Amelia lives on an urban legend in Davenport that many pregnant women or new mothers heed caution to today. “Dont get Amelia’d” they would say.

Just me popping in and saying Happy Halloween! I hope everyone has a safe holiday indoors and enjoys some light ~spooky~ reading. Drop a comment if you liked it the post! We will continue to our regular programming on Monday!


Lately I have been thinking about how easy it is for people, myself included, to express discontent and annoyances but how hard it is to express gratitude. When you ask someone “how was your day” they usually launch into a story about how their day was monotonous and uneventful, but what about all of the things that are worth expressing gratitude for? We woke up this morning. We have roofs over our heads. We have access to healthy foods, healthcare, and education. We are so incredibly blessed that sometimes it is so hard to even see it. I, myself, fall into this category as it is easy to think about the things that we WANT rather than the thing that we HAVE. But I am calling for a “moment of silence” if you want to call it that, where we thank the universe for what we have. Take a moment to realize that expressing gratitude is just as important, if not more, than expressing nuisances. As the holiday season is rapidly approaching, I challenge you all to take a moment of your time every day, even if it is a few minutes when you are sitting in traffic, to list the things you are grateful for and see how it changes your mindset for the better.

If you would like to engage with this post, drop a comment below of something that you want to express gratitude towards. You never know how much it can brighten someone’s day.

I will start: I want to express gratitude to the people around me for giving me ample opportunities despite my flaws and faults as a human. It is easy to walk away from friendships, because friendships require active work and humans are inherently lazy. I am thankful every day that I have people in my life (including the supporters of this blog) that show me patience and kindness when I need it the most.


At what age do you start to live for yourself?

Stop pleasing the people around you 

Stop filtering what you want to say

Stop living your life for others.

It sounds a lot easier than it is

Especially when you are the product of immigration.

The burden of wanting to pay it forward 

And live this life not only for you

But for your parents 

That sacrificed more than they will ever admit 

To give you the opportunity for a decent life.

The guilt of not wanting to be selfish 

But also break free and do what feels right

Is heavy.

It weighs you down. 

So tell me, at what age do you start to live for yourself?