Humanity
Who am I?
Please allow me to introduce myself. I am Julie. I started out as a Hannemann. Minnesota was a great place to grow up as a tomboy. I climbed trees, swam, fished, canoed, ice skated, and rode sleds down our hill (the best in town) onto the frozen river. I played music with my parents, three brothers, and sister. In addition to playing the flute, I played piano and sang.
By Julie Lacksonen5 years ago in Confessions
thank you.
To whom this may concern, I wanted to reach out and thank you. If it hadn't been for you, I wouldn't have been able to escape the gnawing feeling inside the walls of my chest, clawing to get out. I'm not exactly sure if it's trying to "get out", but it sure has the persist-ency like it wants to. I'm not entire sure how it got stuck in there in the first place, either. I'm not even sure if it's entirely stuck, per se. I guess I'm not sure of a lot of things. What I do know, is that it's like a slug; it just sits in there. It feels like a slug. It sits there unbothered, until it runs into some... salt.
By aoki5 years ago in Confessions
Dirty
Once you do me dirty, I may forgive you, but I’ll never treat you the same you will never get the old me again. So many people have come into my life and have been excellent teachers, friends, and lovers of life. However, those people keep treating you dirty and don’t even care that they are doing you dirty.
By Theresa Evans5 years ago in Confessions
The Crying Mannequin
Most don’t know what it’s like to exist this way, but then again how could they? Maybe they haven’t had a perfect life, but they never had to wake up everyday in a state of constant perturbation that has been slowly rotting their insides day after day after day. From the second they awake to the very last thing they remember at night… no, not many people can even begin to relate to a crying mannequin.
By 5 years ago in Confessions
I couldn't be part of my university's Comedy Society
The other day I was giving someone advice about going to uni, or at least, some of the things not to do. In hindsight I feel I could have crushed it a bit harder, but there's always the whole being depressedddddd thing. One of the things I definitely recommended was to check out the sports and societies. I didn't go to many and the ones I did were so categorically me I both found my people and felt isolated from others.
By CJ Francis5 years ago in Confessions
Self-Doubt
Self-doubt has been gnawing at my brain for many years now. I think my problem started by when I was in elementary school. Someone was there to criticize me on every little thing. I remembered when I was a part of some dance group that I and some friends created for the school's annual talent show. We were doing a dance routine to "Lipgloss" by Lil Mama. Gosh, time flew! This girl, Nikita, who I always admired for her outspokenness, was the group leader and came up with a few dance moves that we shy girls could do. It was some hip rolls, a few squats, and the finisher was a jump split. The jump split and the random squats weren't an issue for me. It was the hip rolls. For some reason, I had a wave of anxiety to move my hips in such a feminine way. I didn't think it was in my nature to do that; I kept thinking, "Everyone is going to look at me and laugh. I can't do this." So, every time it was my turn to do the hip roll, I became stuck and uncoordinated. Then, Nikita told the teacher, "She can't dance. She's too scared."
By Ashley Nicole Bourne5 years ago in Confessions
Mental health
Tonight, as I prepared myself to head to bed, I knew that I couldn’t I knew that my mind, and body just wouldn’t allow me to. So, I started writing, I have been writing all night and it is now about 2:30 am. I haven’t slept yet because my mind keeps going and telling me to keep writing because I have so much to catch up after not writing for days. I didn’t write for days because I didn’t know what to write about and now that I do, I don’t want to stop. I am afraid that if I go to sleep then I will forget all that I want to write about and I will not be able to write about it again. So, I need to write about it now.
By Hidden secrets5 years ago in Confessions
Confession Heals.
What is confessing...it’s not admitting. It’s not to say yes I did it, although many of the confessions you hear may lead you to admission, or admitting that you too are guilty of the thing someone else is confessing. That’s a first step...but the follow through is in MY confession. Confessing starts with ME not someone else. It’s acknowledging the legitimate guilt and shame I feel because I KNOW (I have seen, I have experienced) MY brokenness. As people—we must begin to acknowledge our brokenness to one another to find freedom, forgiveness and healing. We by no means have to own illegitimate brokenness (guilt and shame others have placed on us because we don’t measure up to their “standard”. God has a standard “perfection” and he says NO man measures up —(no not one). We are all broken but broken in different ways. The “cracks” we find are in different places. Confession is that place where I acknowledge MY fractures. When I do that I can begin to give those places the attention they need to be mended. All too often we want people to “admit” their faults. We want to do the pointing, showing them their cracks and them agreeing to fix them. There may be a place for admission but TRUE healing comes from the place of confession. It starts with ME seeing MY “fault” and when I see it...I want it to be fixed. I want it to be different. I want to be healed and mended. However, that means we have to introspective. We must look at ourselves instead of everyone around us, and we’re not so great at looking in the mirror. We don’t like what we see, and in turn avoid the time we need to spend there to really see the cracks and discover their beauty. The cracks are not our enemy in fact they are our best assets, benefiting us in more ways than we want to admit. First, the cracks keep us humble. They remind us of our fragility… that we can only pretend to be invincible. That is a gift! Without them, we may convince ourselves that we are better and in need of nothing. Secondly, the cracks connect us. They create a belonging in humanity even if we’re not looking for it. They tell me I have a place, just like you. They tell you, that you are not alone. Third, they speak. They speak of strength and endurance. They remind us that even though we aren’t perfect, we are hardy and we will make it through. So why avoid the cracks? Why not inspect their beauty and let them adorn our value. Take time to notice them, mend them and embellish them elements that may enhance their strength and beauty. Just as the Japanese do with kintsukuroi.
By Natalie Stover5 years ago in Confessions
Why am I here?
Somewhere between here and there, I lost my drive, my creativity to write on here on Vocal. I thought about it many times. But there simply was nothing that I truly wanted to write about. So, I decided that I am going to write about not wanting to write.
By Melanie Sorockti5 years ago in Confessions
WHEN I LOOK BACK AT THE PAST
When I look back at the past I see a young man full of dreams, full of the will to fight to achieve what he dreamed of thinking that life was easy, that you just have to go after it and you can do it, but it's not quite like that, I think we all have that funny feeling of ourselves when we remember how we used to feel when we thought about our dreams, how easy the dream and the plans for the future were on paper, but not in practice.
By Dalmy Alves5 years ago in Confessions
