The Quest for an Abudance in Sunshine

where you find: the key to happiness, personal experience, a redhead's poetry, book reviews, new science, nature, rock'n alt. medicine

Tag: anxiety

Let The Animal Inside Your Body Love What It Loves

I woke up again in the middle of the night after a four hour sleep, feeling anxious as if I was back in the restaurant. In my dream I was dropping the customer’s money, it was all getting mixed up, and they were all impatient – I already knew i wasn’t getting a tip from any table. It’s been like this almost every day for a month straight, and I’ve only worked there since the end of May. I am so unhappy as a server – it’s not as easy sounding as “delivering food” but I’m not here to justify why I feel so ashamed that I shut my eyes tightly, wrapped in my blanket, next to Eduardo. Tears seeped through the cracks of my eyelashes and spilled into my other eye. All I wanted was for those around me to have happiness. I’d been away from Florida almost 2 years. I have the things I wanted that I didn’t have – whenever I felt bad about my job, I wrote down the things I was grateful for. Remember when the trailer you lived in didn’t have a shower or place to wash dishes? Remember when you didn’t have a car, and you had to walk 11 miles to town just for a job that paid you under the table? I’ve been reading blogs about people who leave their lives in New York or some city, who leave their mortgage and their coveted 9-5 job for van life. I’d love a slower pace job, where I didn’t wear a uniform and run around refilling drinks hoping that guests left a dollar over 10%, to cover tipshare. Hoping I didn’t get sat a 17 big top. I’d love a job where I was at a desk, even if the hours dragged by, at least I’d be treated fairly. All I wanted was for those around me to have happiness – I was so grateful to have this apartment with my AC, and a place to shower, because I remembered having to take showers at my Aunt’s when I had the chance, and laying naked in the trailer, sweating in the Florida summer. It was so hard to find a job in my last town, but here in East Texas, you could pick one up at any glorified fast food place. And here I was, finally with the things I needed for basic survival, i could afford food and gas and the internet, a fridge, things most young people take for granted. And here I was, my soul silent, because I was so bitter. Bitter that my mom had to work to death. That Eduardo couldn’t make movies. That I wasn’t a writer like I dreamed of being since my earliest memory, stuffing receipts and envelopes into my great grandparents typewriter, so i could hear it chirp like a bird.

I am reluctant to leave my position for something that doesn’t pay as much. If you’re an experience server, and can handle waiting on 30 people, you bring home a lot of money. I know servers I work with bring home almost 500 dollars a week. Plus my 2.15/hr, I make at least 10/hr. But the stress – the abuse, sometimes it doesn’t bounce off me.

I’ve spoken to my manager each time I got overwhelmed, a brief one-on-one in his crammed office. He has a way of making decisions for me. I told him I wanted nothing more than to work a few times a week and that i’d find another job. “you want more hours? I’ll give you more hours. And there’s nothing to feel ashamed about not being able to handle this, we’ll give you a 4-table section.” But still, I was trapped in the weeds, and I could tell after messing up with that big top, he wanted to fire me. But he needed me to cover his split shifts – the lowest ranked shift on the totem pole.

I tell myself to stay positive, it’s money every day and if I do this for a year, I can go back to school. And then I started to cry, because there are so many symbols in my life that meant I wanted to reinvent myself. The violin I finally got, but can’t tune. The pharmacy technician trainee certificate, a sign that I wanted to be better at math. My hula-hoop, a plastic circle that symbolized my passion to dance. But I had tried to get into ballet, and that was too far. (You can read my other blog, HALO for that chapter) And all the blogs i printed out about living in a van and traveling, because I wanted to see my family, and because I wanted to go to the mountains.

I fought back tears because I knew that if deep down, I was not living my purpose, how tortured does Eduardo feel, not having the money to produce his movies? How does my mother feel, wanting to go to college, but not having the time or energy from her job?

And then, it struck me, that I should just pick up my violin, drive to the next town in my beat up Pontiac, and get it tuned, and play outside, and take online lessons. ( offers in depth online tutoring for less than 25 bucks a month! )To drive to my friend’s house and ask her if I can borrow her ballet barre dvd and install a “barre” from the bamboo Eduardo cut down. That I should go to the library and print out the free pdf file from, and buy the medical dosage calculations books and study. That I should buy an LED hoop so I can get lost in my flow.

And I kept thinking about all the books that affected my life. I’ve always believed that certain books come into your life at the time you need to read them. How at one point, I stopped reading fiction and poetry so I could read about war, history, and travel memoirs and spirituality and yoga. And I knew, deep down, I needed to write books.


it’s a compelling

necessity. all my friends i miss are the enlightened ones.

People who get turnt up in heaven

and spend some one-one-one time with


(spiritual teacher’s name here.)

I have no idea how I’ll have the guts to walk back into that restaurant tomorrow.

I lost my dignity, the other night – the place was jam packed and chaotic.

For you. I keep telling myself,

the only reason why it felt like hell

was because of you.

“You are the cause of your own heaven and hell.”

After one point, my mind couldn’t focus. I was tense and upset over what guests were saying.

I wasn’t the strongest character that day.

I realize now that I should’ve tried to act happy.

Stay into character, and role play like the words indeed

rolled off my shoulders, bounced off.

I let the pressure get to me, and fighting back tears I forgot to put someone’s food order in.

So every one had their food except for the large baby.

Then a table walked out on me. And I’m sure some people got free drinks.

I had like 8 tables. 9 tables at one point. I’ve been there 30 days. I’m counting.

i kept grabbing my hair, a really OCD habit of mine.

Trying to remember.orders

When it occurred to me.

Love Frequency

Far from my Florida home, my thoughts started to roam in a brand new bed in a unfamiliar log cabin tucked in private countryside. My thoughts began like this: “I love —” following my mother’s name, my sister’s name, along with bittersweet memories. My mom laughing over burned biscuits or chain smoking cigaretts. My sister tapping on my window at 5 in the morning balancing two beer cans in her hands. My heart was oozing with love, overflowing with love. My shaggy dog’s white curly hair and overbite grin. Eduardo was sleeping beside me, I took him in my arms and held him tightly. I never ever want to let him go. Suddenly, I was really terrified. I never been so much in love and never hurt so bad at the same time.

Deep down I understood that nothing lasts forever. Somehow someway we have to say goodbye.

I wanted to know for sure that everybody I loved would be taken care of. In these dark moments with my head against the comfy pillow, I felt open and bleeding with love.


Then another thought, a reasuring gesture, came to mind. This will be hard to explain, and if you’ve not been on this plane of thought, you may want to discontinue reading. My thought was, I’m afraid because I feel like God is not there. To me, God is love. God is energy. I had to tell myself to trust in God and have unwaivering faith. When i tightened my grip on my sleeping beauty, tears squeezed from the corners of my eyes and I thought, God is with me. Right now, and I know it because of all the love I feel.

I decided to write about this event a week later, but this sums up the beweldering feelings that came to me my first night here, in a new city, in a new state, starting a fresh life.

Whenever I feel bad, a signal goes off in my brain that warns me. “Negative emotioms have activated. These negative vibes will only cause more pain and suffering.” This thought awareness helps me tune in to a happier station. I think about my sister and me and Eduardo smoking pot in the backyard. I think about my black cat, GG and her pink tongue sticking out. I fill myself up with love and don’t distract myself with the uncertainty of the future. It is not useful to … how do i put this? it’s not useful when you’re in that position of vulnerability to imagine the future without the ones you love. It will not make it easier when the inevitable happens.

That song from Kansas comes to mind. I know the whole song. “Now don’t hang on, nothin’ lasts forever but the earth and sky. It slips a-way.”

The ramifications of living in the moment will dissapate the fear. I’ll pick up the phone and call my mom and leave her a message, I’ll send my sister a picture that reminds me of us, I’ll kiss my boyfriend as he sleeps and watch him smile as he dreams.

We Love –

It’s too much to think of everything I own on sale for cheap at a storage unit. Everything ahead will be better than what we leave here. I have more than 30 books of classic literature for sale. A Seperate Peace, The Sun Also Rises, A Clockwork Orange, When The Emperor Was Divine. Irresitable titles, gorgeous covers. I have to open every one before I let them go. I’m keeping the writers that I love to read the most. If I think back on it, Joseph Campbell advises to lavish in your passions and be certain of them. Follow Your Bliss. All these stories are a testament to my desire to become a writer, and now it’s down to a couple of worn paper backs. The Illustrated Man, The Joy Luck Club, Esoteric Anatomy, The Encyclopedia of World History. Will our trip run smoothly? I’m so happy we’re getting out of this place, nothing but small minded people and thieves.

Screen-write Apology rated R

I had an idea today, taking the pieces out of a cell phone and arranging them on a white plaster board. It had something to do with this thoughtful rage considering our connection to everything. There was a white box full of heart-shaped glasses in assorted colors, why they looked like jelly beans. When you approached the board with the entrails of “cellular” parts, you had to pick up the heart-shaped glasses, and look through the hearts framing those parts.

I’ve been really sick lately too,  why I was so sad, I can’t remember. I’m sure it’s because Edwardo has to leave my side every Monday morning and doesn’t come back until Friday night.  Nothing alleviates me more than his therapeutic love. I made myself get up after spilling ink over a yellow notepad, yellow journalism, and get dressed. Find some clothes and choose to be happy right now. I learned that lesson I long time ago (it was in my junior year, I read The Traveler’s Gift by Andy Andrews. It was my first self-help book I read.)

There is no time to waste, so I moped back to my bedroom and sifted through some clothes. All the long sleeved shirts were blue. I desired lace. My beloved vintage Bongo shorts that come up above my belly button. I chose a turquoise top w/ long sleeves & deep neck dive,  over that a lace top that I had to tie behind my neck. My face is the only thing I can’t seem to repair, it looks beaten up, puckered up, red eye sockets even though I slept all last night under a stagnant fan and two bed covers, trying to sweat the sickness out.

I wish I wasn’t so intense. So, my sincere apology, I’m sure I scared a lot of people off. Times are hurting my tender heart, I guess. It’s also her anniversary.

Take a Chill Pill, baby doll

Let’s leave it at the fact that I’ve been under a lot of pressure and have lost nonredeemable hours of precious sleep. It’s ironic, i feel like I’m fine underneath a shatter-proof infrastructure, but on the outside, i’ve got bags under my eyes and I’ve wrapped my hair from my finger up to my arm. I’m anxious to see a new person every morning when I wake up.


I’m trying to keep my chin up about the employment, but January has turned to February, and February is opening the curtain to introduce the tragic March and April months.  it’s hard when you feel onerous to your charitable family, who is not your blood, but are your kinship, because they love that you have tried so hard over a year and a half to gain your life back and find your place in the world.


Don’t Let The Days Pass You By

DIY Wednesday I wanted to work on my chapbook but I got distracted by the menu bar above which lists my favorite online shops…and I ended up spending hours “pinning” clothes.

Self-Improvement Tip # 11 – Create an inspiration board.

I think having an inspiration board means you are letting yourself love the things you do, it’s also a neat way to visualize your ideas and even helps bring emotional clarity. A lot of times, we face this irrational thought that we don’t deserve to like certain things – that we have to be something in order to have certain things or something convoluted like that. Just a real nasty way to treat yourself so starting an inspiration board is a nice thing to do for yourself.

I always recommend I have posts from last year it’s still interesting to look at my tastes and also what I did was a little picture journal, where I posted a picture with relevance to that day. Yayy my nails are dry (:

Tumblr is a great site for inspirational quotes or pictures. is free digital look book. You create boards, themes, and pin to these boards. It’s fun. My manager has a board of neat organizational tools, a bunch of fun gizmos, I have a board for my wishlist.

I just watched the first episode and fell madly in love with the nonchalant bounty hunter. The first  scene you catch him sweating, working out some high kicks in his ship. Oh, and I watch episodes with English subtitles.

Nobody Knows Me At All

20 is a fabulous age to embark on self-discovery. I am bitten from ambition, I will put everything into every day to make it count, to create, repeate, create, repeate. No more of the “I’m not good enough” attitude. How about “I can do that too!” or “Let me try something like that.” There is no one to judge me except my ego, and I will not let anything but my heart fullfill my desires. I’d like to write and draw more. Out from the rubble I discovered sketches and poetry. It’s not much, but it will have to do. I am determined to see how beautiful I am, realizing a power in the universe created all the beautiful machines around me that I admire, I was created by the same power, thus, I possess the same structure of astonishment. My personality attracts instantly, it’s only when I begin to doubt myself that others around me doubt who I am. I am worthy of happiness. I am skillfull with a pen that I create atmospheres and extended periods of time. So what poetry isn’t glamour modeling, so what creative fiction isn’t the same craft as photography – a writer has a plathora of versatile tools to sharpen the focus and capture a beautiful moment of the human condition.

I posted some of my art work from the summer 2011. I didn’t draw anything last year, I painfully thought anything I produced was mediocre, stupid, lacked depth and decadence.

I regret this. Depression unleashes catastrophic failures. Here are the remnants of somebody that I used to know.Image




FROM TOP TO BOTTOM: Underneath My Innocense, Ballerina Stretch, Mr. White from Resevoir Dogs