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I wrote to survive my twenties. I wrote to find myself, lose myself, rediscover, heal, vent, and to want; to desperately want.  I started as a clean slate: brain damaged and brand new. I wanted so badly to express my sincere belief that life truly is simple and blissful. I was blessed with a fresh start after significant memory loss and a personality altering injury and some days I felt it was myself alone who could see the light, the simplicity of joy and calm. No longer did I feel the need for anger, sadness or stress and I wanted so desperately to self-help and self-aware you all to my perspective on things.

Most days I still feel this way.

It’s been ten years and ten months since that accident changed everything for me. For the most part, it doesn’t cross my mind too much anymore, but even as I type this my brain says “Yeah right, liar. I’m with you every day.” So, I don’t know. Maybe, I’m stuck on it, maybe I’m not. I honestly don’t know. Here’s what I do know:

My twenties are two months from over. Hello, Thirty.

I’m definitely not trying to figure me out anymore. I’m happy. I’m settled and boring and thrilled about it. I’ve accepted my faults and I appreciate myself for the things I do well and I can respect each piece of what makes me who I am.  I’m good.

My family continues to push me to write. The things I will write about will not be interesting and only borderline worthwhile. You’ve been forewarned.

My career revolves around car accidents. Maybe it was fate.

I have yet to feel ‘myself’ again after my dad’s passing almost two years ago. When life is not simple or easy or joyful you adapt. You change and redevelop and create a new normal.

I understand this post may feel like its contradicting. Such is life.

Real news, for those of you who are still following and patiently awaiting an update (you guys are amazing):

I am now a family of four (two dogs, zero kids, one wonderful man and myself).  We’re homeowners (oh my gosh!) and still loving each day Colorado.