1,2,3,4… 30


That’s all she heard, she raised her sleepy head, and suddenly a rush of blood flew quick through her veins and her entire body.

She can hear his name being called through his phone, “_______, are you okay?”

Call the police she yelled to the receiver hoping she’d hear, “Call the police!”

“What did you take?” she screamed, “what did you take?”

He couldn’t understand her. Not anymore than she could understand him.

She screamed, as she dropped the phone. The conversation she was having hung from her thigh with the voice of another “friend,” that, had she listened, was telling her what was wrong with him.

“Oh god, what the fuck did you take! Oh god, oh god, oh god!”

“Help! Somebody help me!” Her voice cracked, as she screamed to the top of her lungs.”

“My brother, my brother, something is wrong with my brother…” she said into the receiver of her phone.

She hung up the phone, and then dialed 9-1-1

Time didn’t stop, but, it moved very slow.

She could see the room spinning…

“Get yourself together K, you have to save him!” she yelled mentally.

She could barely make up her words, she tried to tell the dispatcher something serious was wrong…

The dispatcher had heard her, “I know mam, we just received a call, police is on the way, can you confirm the address…”

“east… yeah east”

“Mam, we need you to calm down please, he is most likely having a seizure.”

“He isn’t breathing! He isn’t breathing! He is purple! His lips, his face, he’s purple!”

She drops the phone…

“CPR! I know CPR, Iv’e known CPR since I was 15…”

“What is the count? What is the fucken count!?”

“Oh god, Oh god, Moooooommmmm pllllleeassseeee!”

push 1, push 2, push 3, push 4, push 5, push 6, push 7, push 8, push 9, push 10, push 11, push 12, push 13, push 14, push 15…

Tilt, Blow. Blow.

“No! It’s fucken 30!” she yelled, mentally.

“What the fuck did you take? Moooommmmm!”

Push 1, push 2, push 3, push 4, push 5, push 6, push 7, push 8, push 9, push 10, push 11…

tears running down her face, she can not believe this is happening…

“Why would this happen?,” she thought.

“No way is he going like this…” she mumbled mentally.

“Mom, I freaken need you, pleaseee!”

Push 12, push 13, push 14, push 15, push 16, push 17, push 18, push 19, push 20, push 21, push 22, push 23, push 24, push 25, push 26, push 27, push 28, push 29, push 30

Tilt, BLOW and… BLOW.

GASP, he rises and tries to lean forward.

Siiggghhhh, “Thank you mom,” she whispered as her tears fell into her mouth.

“No, no, no don’t move please, don’t move…” she told him…

She ran out and yelled, “Help! Someone one please help me!”

Flash lights coming through, police walked up, walked in, and took over.

She was cold, and at the same time sweaty.

She was scared, and at the same time proud.

She was worried.

“Can you hug me?,” she asked as she stood outside with someone.

“Can you please just hug me very tight?”

Heart beating fast, breathing oh, so, difficult.

Anxiety expanding and spreading through her body.

Body felt like collapsing…

Officer, “Are you the mother? Can I speak to you? What happen?”

1,2,3,4,5 … breathe.



How I started writing…

When I was younger, I’d shut down.

My way of dealing with my emotions, was to not speak to anyone.

My mom hated it!

When I was about twelve, or so?

My mom started dating a guy who she was really excited about, and during that time she was leaving me more with my sitter to go on dates with him.

I got home after dance one night asking her “what’s for dinner? Did you make enchiladas!?” (excited voice)

Her response was… “No, I’m going to order you a pizza instead, your nina is going to watch you and I’ll be home a little later.”

I was so upset…

I shut down, went into my room, and locked the door.

My mom kept asking me to open the door, and I wouldn’t respond.

I made her skip the date.

Hours later she was angry and yelled “Kelsey, pro favor! Stop this, what is going on?”

I opened the door and yelled “I’ll tell you what’s going on, you are so worried about being a (insert mean word here) that you don’t care about me anymore!”


My mom smacked me so hard, she bruised my face.

My mom had never hit me, ever.

But I had also NEVER called her anything like I did that night.

Days later…

Many sorry’s later…

I still was not speaking to my mom.

So she bought me a Journal.

and she said…

“You don’t need to talk to me. You don’t need to forgive me. But you have to stop doing this to yourself! I’m worried about you mija, whenever anything happens, at school, here, ANYTHING, even stuff that isn’t under your control, you shut down! This isn’t good for your health, it doesn’t help me understand what’s wrong, and it scares me.

So do it for you, for me, or for who ever but let it out some way?”

I remember looking at that journal thinking… This is stupid…

and many journals later…

about four years ago…

I opened my blog…


My grammar STINKS.

I get criticized ALL THE TIME.

My friends text me…

“Hey you miss spelled”

“Hey you forgot this”

“Hey that is supposed to say this”

I was the kid who was good at math.

However, writing makes me feel better, it helps me and I know some of my pieces have helped others.

So, no matter how much criticism I receive.

I am a writer.



Today I realized that I am a “chance” taker.

I take chances.

Mostly emotionally, but I take chances.

I wear my heart on my sleeve and I try to always see the very best in every single person I come across.

I am not sure what it is but, I believe that everyone comes into our lives for a reason.

It might not always be a good reason, but in the end…

there is always a reason.

Putting myself out there works, for me.

I do not allow my pride to hold me back…

I feel, and I express it loudly with out a care in the world.

If you hurt me, you’ll know.
If you make me happy, you’ll know.

If I am angry, you’ll know.

and sadness,

oh sadness…

it’s probably one of my most painful faces I can show.

My tears are there, and the pain pokes out my clothes.

Not only can you see my emotions, but if you are close enough…

you can feel them.

But I can say it works for me, this is how I live.

I don’t pretend, I can’t.

I’m real, I’m raw, and sometimes it’s ugly

but everyone has an ugly.

I don’t wait, at least not anymore.

I use to wait, hide, shield…

My mom would tell me… “Smile, wipe those tears and smile. Do not let others see your weakness.”

Many times she’d say “Ay Kelsey, you are too sensitive.”

As I grew I learned how to compose my emotions (Don’t worry I don’t walk around in public crying or something like that…)

I do smile, but I allow myself to feel and express myself first.

I approach the situation how I feel is correct or will work for me.

Once I’ve done that; I can finally breathe, look forward, and move on.


I take chances, and I am finally accepting that.

I am okay with this.

I know that sometimes I WILL get exactly what I want from taking these chances…



Sometimes, I will get hurt.

Sometimes the outcome just won’t be what I wanted.

Sometimes I won’t get what I was hoping for.

and sometimes, or many times…

I will be disappointed. 

I am okay with this.

Because I can at least live, knowing I took the chance that my heart told me to take.

Today I realized that I am a “chance” taker.

I take chances.

But, I actually live.

If I died tomorrow, I would go in peace knowing that I actually lived

How many people can actually say that?

Some people die a long time before their hearts stop beating, I refuse to be one of them.


There is no “I” in TEAM.

I had to come out side to take a breather, things are so screwed up I can’t believe it.
So much screaming, so much fighting makes me feel like happiness is something…
seems like we just won’t achieve it…
Everyone seems to blame the feeder, I’m selfish they say but they don’t see it.
To me they are just running away, to them they just can’t take it  momentarily.
What is that you ask?
It’s my selfishness.
If they could only see, how hard this is for me.
I’m not selfish, I just have a memory disorder and some sort of attention span developing because of all that is being put on me.
It feels like my brain is going at full speed, day by day, as it thinks everything through, and tries to figure everything out that I have to do.
I forget everything now in days, my planner gets it all even a reminder that asks “Have you even ate at all?”
The only selfish act I have going on is getting educated, because like the rest of you I feel that I deserve it.
I don’t want to let the hard times stop me from having a good future.
From having my OWN future, something to show for MY SELF.
And then you come along and say you have felt un attended for over two years?
Well how about not being able to breath since I got the news.
How do you think this feels? Watching the mom that raised you, the only parent that took care of you, slowly washing away in front of you!
Two years of hell all the doctors and nurses saying things I just couldn’t bare.
I’m surprised I didn’t loose my mind and then she died only to leave me here to find, find away to figure things out, to push my grieving aside and get it all worked out.
I didn’t get a break I had to move on and play the game.
Play the game of life, find a way for all of us to survive.
But your overwhelmed, you feel at the bottom of the barel?
I can’t seem to wrap my mind around it, and understand how?
Not once did I say step up to the plate, I never said it was YOU that had to take her place.
As people asked us if you were?
I’d respond and say “What? no! I got this on my own, he doesn’t have to…”
Because I do. I was raised by a warrior who told me, and prepared me for what I had to do.
Yes it was easier said then done but I’m doing it.
I never asked you to feed us, to take care of us, to do anything for us because I got us.
And not just us as in them and I but US as in you and I too! Yes you were a bit more attentive to me then I was with you but look at what I was living? Of course more then ever, I needed you.
But that doesn’t mean I was gone, a couple of slips, a couple of cold sholders, but I was still hanging on.
There by your side trying my best to give you my all.
My ALL that now had to be split into 8 slices of “Kelsey”
As the oldest I have to take care of three and adding my niece I was at four
Then came two jobs making it six
And don’t forget school
And you
It became eight, eight is a lot can’t you see?
But I didn’t give up, I didn’t run off, I took it all in and said I got it all!
So yes sometimes you were going to come last but sometimes you came first and they came last.
There had to be a rotation can’t you see, and yes in the end there was only one person that worried about me.
You worried about me, but that wasn’t my selfishness it was your caring heart and the love you had for me. It’s just what humans do when they care, because when your alone it’s “I” and when your with someone it’s “them”.
Sometimes it will feel like it’s more about “them” then “you” but someday you will need “them” more then ever too.
When you do, there “they” will be, because there is no “I” in TEAM.

Wishing you the best, thank you for everything you did for me…
and us;

My Whole Big Human Self


“We want simply to be our selves… not just our little female selves but our whole big human selves.” – Mary Jenny Howe; A leader of the feminist group in the 1900’s


I like to think that I was created for a special purpose.
I believe I’m here for a reason and to leave a mark on this world.
I have a big ego and I’d like to thank my mother for that; she was a warrior.
I’m very confident in what I am capable of.
I am strong and independent.
I love myself and do the best I can to keep myself happy.
I live through what I think is right for me.
I respect my body and myself.
I am a woman with class and I expect EVERYONE to treat me that way.
I believe in myself and know anything I want is achievable.
I believe in possibilities and I push myself to always try and be the very best “Me”
I try to never let life or anyone take anything from me.
I always make sure to never live without showing myself love and appreciation.
I know what I’m worth.
I am valuable and irreplaceable.

I am a beautiful woman;