In the bustling city of Huntington, Amanda had always felt like an outsider, a piece that never quite fit into the puzzle of life. Surviving a tumultuous childhood marked by trauma, her journey began with the heavy weight of her past. Experiences of abuse and betrayal had woven a complex tapestry of PTSD, anxiety, bipolar disorder, borderline personality disorder, and oppositional defiant disorder into her daily existence.

Amanda was a survivor; her resilience was forged in the fires of her struggles. After each nightmare she faced, she would find herself in therapy, seeking to untangle the knots of her pain. Her therapist, Dr. Lewis, a compassionate and wise woman, became her guiding star. Together, they explored the darkest corners of Amanda’s mind, shedding light on the shadows that loomed large.

One day, while sitting in Dr. Lewis’s office, Amanda recounted a recent episode of overwhelming anxiety that had left her paralyzed. As tears spilled down her cheeks, she expressed the fear of her past overshadowing her future. Dr. Lewis listened intently, then gently encouraged her to turn her pain into power. “You have a story worth telling. Your experiences can inspire others,” she said.

Motivated by their conversation, Amanda decided to channel her emotions into writing. She began to craft a memoir, narrating her struggles with honesty and vulnerability. Words poured from her heart, each sentence a step towards healing. As she wrote, she found solace, and with each chapter, the weight of her past began to lift.

Gradually, she built a community, connecting with others who faced similar battles through support groups. There, Amanda met Carol, a fellow survivor whose laughter was infectious despite her scars. The bond they formed allowed Amanda to glimpse hope in the eyes of another. Through sharing their stories, they discovered the strength of standing together, breaking the silence that had long surrounded them.

Amanda also found comfort in creativity, immersing herself in painting. With every brushstroke, she transformed her chaos into color, creating vibrant images that represented her journey. She titled her pieces “Mosaics of Strength,” each one a testament to resilience and beauty rising from brokenness. Her art caught the attention of a local gallery, leading to her first exhibition, where she showcased both her paintings and readings from her memoir.

On the night of the opening, Amanda stood in front of a gathering of friends, family, and strangers, her heart racing. As she read excerpts from her book, her voice trembled but grew more confident with each word. The audience listened intently, moved by her honesty and courage. By the end, tears glistened in their eyes, and applause erupted, filling the room like a warm embrace.

Despite the challenges that lay ahead, Amanda felt empowered. She understood that healing was not linear, and there would still be difficult days filled with anxiety or depressive episodes. But now, she had a toolkit—therapy, art, and a supportive community to lean on.

As she glanced around the room, she realized that she was not just a survivor of her past; she had become a beacon of hope for others. Amanda learned to embrace her journey, celebrating her survival with every step forward—a mosaic of strength, uniquely beautiful in its imperfections. With a heart full of hope and a voice to share, she reminded others that it’s okay to seek help, to share their stories, and to believe in the possibility of brighter days.

You can see us on street corners
Or down the dark alleys
We are hardly a sight for sore eyes
We are dirty and vacant
With ripped clothes and sad faces
We wear this as our new disguise.
See some time ago
We were regular people
Until something in life got us down
Whether it heartbreak or money
Family or lack of
There’s something we needed to drown
The voices in our heads
That tell us we aren’t worth shit
Or The memories we just can’t move on from
Maybe it’s trauma or sadness
Or just basic madness
Fill in the blank with your own noun
It ripped us apart
And it spit out the pieces
And robbed us of all we once cherished
We were desperate for relief
So we followed the dragon
We got lost on the way; our souls perished.
Now as is probably Expected
Pretty much textbook
We burn bridges with selfish behavior
Some of us come back
And they find inner peace
And usually they call it their savior
But some of us misfits
The world has forgotten
We’re broken and fucked up
downright dirty and rotten
Someone or something has shattered our hearts
And we know that we’re never the same
So we escape all the pain
With powder or pills
And we find ourselves stuck in this game
We spiral and wander
Away from reality
And further down into the abyss
The people around us
eventually give up
Cause what’s even still there to miss?
We are just scumbags on street corners
Or down the dark alleys
We’re junkies; unfortunate souls
We fucked up, we get it
We don’t need reminded
Please shut up or spark up a bowl

What is it that you seek?
What is it that you saw?
You should never listen to my wicked crystal ball.
What is it that you seek?
What is it that you saw?
You should never listen to my wicked Crystal Ball.
Have you seen the crystal ball?
Have you heard the souls scream trapped in her cloudy walls?
Everything you love gone before it even happens,
nothing left of your soul among the cold dark ashes.
They say fools wish to be free,
until they’re in a free fall…
Fools gamble time and the ball she takes it all
‘Cause the crystal is a cheat,
the crystal is a liar,
The crystal is a frozen world of ice and of fire. To live in a lie the price is the truth,
to be frozen in time the price is your youth. But you knew, it never tricked you,
You let it seduce you, left scars on your skin-as if it ever needed you.
Some always come crawling,
some may escape her call.
But you should never listen to my wicked Crystal Ball…
What is it that you seek?
What is it that you saw?
You should never listen to my wicked crystal ball…
You should never listen to my wicked crystal ball.

A young boy sits in a wooden chair
Gazing forward
A ball of crystal perched before him
Almost invisible
It warps and clouds what lay behind it
He knows there will be a price
But he must try
He wants to know,
He has to know.
He gazes into its prism chamber
And it tells.
When he lifts his head, his breath taken away
The awe of the secrets told to him
Fade
When he sees his reflection
He sees that he is no longer the same man
But old, so old.
The ball has told him what he wished to know
But he had to pay the price of time
He walks away, as many have before,
Feeling cheated
Feeling like it all went by so fast
If he could only have another chance
If he could only get that time back
But he can’t
Time is the only thing you have
And the only thing you can never have
It is yours, spent
And the crystal ball will steal your time
The crystal will steal your life.

I had an addiction for 23 years, I have been clean for over 30 yrs minus my slips and falls that through me into the ring of addiction, because I let my guard down thinking that I was stronger than it, when actually the addiction was stronger than me. But such as life try and try again. I am clean and have been for many years. I allowed myself to lured back but the last time was the last time. I asked myself some questions and the most important was do you want to live or die, do I want to live a full life filled with endless possibilities or die not reaching my full potential. I choose life . I became to love self, and wouldn’t accept any old thing , I have been hopeless and helpless and I have done things that only me and God know about. I have come full circle I know my value . I graduated from college and wrote a book. I hope to be a recovery coach, where I help those who are still trapped be free and stare in the face of addiction and say I won and I am stronger than you. Now in my life there is so many things I want to do all for the glory of God not for fame or fortune all though these things have there place, that is not my motivation. I survived so that I may be a help to others.