this is my story, and i'm sticking to it

i remember going camping in tinny flats with all my cousins, and always getting campsite 15
i remember late nights around the campfire, and long hikes to the bathroom
i remember crying when i saw a racoon for the first time, and not sleeping at all that night.

i remember the first time i went to the beach and my dad told me that the water tasted like cotton candy
i remember when my sister insisted that sharks could in fact walk on land.
i remember when my first sand castle went out with the tide, and took my shovel with it.

i remember having bath robe fashion shows in my unfinished basement with my sisters.
i remember when my brother pulled the head off my only ken doll, after using it to clean the toilet.
i remember when i finally got my own room, and getting scared to be alone at night.

i remember when i used to act the same at school as i did at home, and the friends who stuck by me.
i remember how the kids would tease me for being weird.
i remember the first time i rode a bike without tipping over, and how free i felt.

i remember totally biffing on a scooter, and knocking out a few of my teeth.
i remember the long wait at the ER and the cold ice pack they made me put on.
i remember the surgeries that followed, and the new pair of glasses.

i remember the summer before seventh grade when i did something to make me happy, not someone else.
i remember the feeling i had after i played my first softball game.
i remember not caring how bad it hurt to get hit with the ball, because i wanted to be where the action was.

i remember how weird i was in the eighth grade, and wonder how anyone could have liked me.
i remember looking at my closet and only seeing tye dye shirts, mens sweat pants and converse.
i remember the first time i saw my parents fight.

i remember the only time i didn't burn my tongue on hot chocolate, was when i left it in the fridge too long
i remember the only year of my life that i didn't want to be a cosmetologist.
i remember the awkward feeling when my neighbor found his older brother dead, and had to live with us for two weeks.

i remember the naive feeling of invincibility on the first day of ninth grade.
i remember the first time i met my best friend jean, and going to her house on friday the thirteenth.
i remember having my first kiss on the american fork baseball field.

i remember my first art class, and feeling so inferior to every one.
i remember when i actually started to get friends, and they stayed
i remember when my friday night schedules consisted of more than hanging out with my mom

i remember starting high school and being so excited to graduate.
i remember the first math teacher that actually understood why i struggled.
i remember wearing a peacock feather dress to my first school dance, and feeling like a princess.

i remember taking my first and only ACT.
i remember how fast the time went by, and how i got 10 points below all three of my sisters.

i remember when i got braces because my teeth were straight, but not straight enough.
i remember the day my coach told me that i was good enough to play college softball.

i remember seeing the orange sky when my neighbors house burned down on my birthday.
i remember when my friend told me she showed me why she always wore long sleeves.
i remember when i hated going to school and skipped every assembly.

i remember waking up for the first day of senior year, and only going because my brother needed a ride.
i remember cringing every time i heard the word college.
i remember being so terrified at the thought of ever moving out.

this is my life, and i love it.

i went on a trip to paris france

it was one of those trips that you don't really want to go on, but your parents bought the "non refundable" plane tickets.

it was one of those trips where you are going and going, with no time in between to wrap your head around everything that has happened.

it was one of those trips where no one could understand me, not even my family. their brains were clouded by cocktails, croissants, and caviar.

it was one of those trips that you really can't be yourself, because who roams the streets of paris in sweats and a sweatshirt?

it was one of those trips that you can't say what you need to, because tourists can only "ooh" and "ahhh"

it was one of those trips that you have to look back on to find the joy.

it was one of those trips that you were glad you went on, but you would be okay if you never went back. ever.

because it was one of those trips, i'll stick with paris idaho for now.

shout out to steven o. jordan

a list of 21 things i love about your blog

1. your posts are always real.
2. your blog has more than just the weekly blog post.
3. you tell it like it is
4. your tab with all those super deep questions is unreal
5. your quotes tab is so inspirational
6. your posts are long, but worth reading ever word.
7. your first post "dear mormons" was unbelievable.
8. how you chose your pen name
9. you show all sides of yourself
10. i can tell how much time you take
11. you use lots of lists
12. this quote "I feel like I'm Prometheus chained to the rock waiting for my heart to get torn out everyday just hoping that the eagle is still full off my heart he ate yesterday and he lets me just keep it one day to see what it feels like."
13. your music goes perfect with every post
14. you express the sad things, without being to depressing
15. all your posts give me motivation to be better
16. your background picture
17. how you use different fonts, sizes, and colors in almost every post. (it makes them more memorable)
18. your writing relates to every one. happy, or sad, boy or girl.
19. your writing is like a punch in the gut. (in a good way)
20. your post about the lessons you have learned.
21. your reveal.

lastly, thank you.
thank you for all the effort that you put in
thank you for your words of wisdom
for making me think
for being memorable
thank you for being real.

i'm sorry this post doesn't do you justice, but still

thank you for everything.

■■■■■ out

                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                

            hope                                

                                    will        

                    restore                     

      the                                       

                             breaks             

                                                
                                                
                                                

                          within                

                                                

                                                

            these                               

                              walls             

                                                

                                                

this is me jumping out of my plane

it's thanksgiving morning, my mom is sick in bed, 

and my dad and little brother are nowhere to be seen.

i really should be getting ready for the day, but i hardly slept last night.

i've had a reveal post written, but i started reading other peoples reveals,

and i got scared. not sure if mine was good enough.

so i'm writing a new one.

my brother in law told me that the worst part of sky diving was the jump.

he said once the jump was over, 

he could finally start take in the beauty of everything around him.

this is me jumping out of my plane, 

in hopes that i can begin to fully take in the full beauty of the people around me. not just their words. 

 

before i tell you who i am, there are a few things that you must know.

i am the second youngest of five.  

i am an over thinker. i will change my test answers more times than your heart beats in a day.

i care about people. if i see anyone crying, stranger or friend, i will cry with them, and for them.

i am not a morning person. 

i don't mind school, this year at least. 

i love everything to do with the outdoors. especially camping and hunting.

i am a future snow college softball player.

i have the cutest niece in the world.

you probably haven't ever heard of me, and i'm okay with that.

i am painfully shy at school, and at home, i'm the family comedian.

as a child i was terrified of the song bah bah black sheep.

i chopped my hair in january, and i regret it every day of my life.

i prefer day old spaghetti over freshly cooked.

i am always looking for new music. 

my pen name has no back story.  

i can't bowl to save my life.

i absolutely love life.
__________________________________________________________________







my name is erin brady not ella erson

sometimes words are more powerful than modern medicine

she was born in oklahoma to a teen mom,

but ink marks on a paper gave her a new family. 

 now she would have ten siblings,

 three brothers and seven sisters.

 

her dad tried hard, but no amount of work, could pay for it all.

they grew up poor, and there was never really enough of anything.

they moved, and moved, and moved some more.

 and eight schools later, she was free.

she ran away with (who she thought) was the love of her life,

but ten years later, the marriage failed it's last exam.

the papers were signed, and things were permanent.

she got a good job and proudly raised her kids,

and remarried her actual dream man.

 

the perfect life, with the perfect kids.

her son was graduated and excelling in college

her daughter had lots of friends, and together they got their weekly manicure.

at the age of forty her back just stopped working.

two unsuccessful surgeries, and thousands of pain pills later,

she was practically bed ridden.

if she continued living the way that she did: unbearable pain

if she got another surgery: unbearable pain.

three months before her daughters graduation,

the pain was over whelming, but she got up anyways.

she winced in pain as her slippers hit the stairs.

she turned on some music to drown out her thoughts.

the silence made her back hurt worse.

music played throughout the kitchen,  

but she didn't hear one note.

she grabbed her pill bottle, like she always did.

but this time it was different, she looked at it for a long time.

she slowly opened the cap an emptied the whole bottle into her hand.

she reached for a cup and her elbow paused the music.

when her brain focused on music, it couldn't focus on the pain.

 she listened to every word, because they would be the last thing she heard.

the song of choice was "out on my own" by gabrielle aplin

because of this song, she gave life one more chance.

 

 

 

i need a blood transfusion.

 my blood has an anger concentration of .04,

 it's genetic condition that fuels a never ending argument between my heart and my brain.

my heart tells me that hurt is okay.

my heart tells me that bodies heal so well sometimes, you can't even tell there was a mark. 

my heart tells me that scars should be flaunted, to show how strong you are.

but my brain and heart have never agreed.

my brain has scientific evidence that disproves everything that my heart is telling me is right.

my brain tells me that rule number one for survival, is to avoid pain at all costs.

my brain tells me that just because bodies can heal, doesn't mean they always do.

my brain tells me that scars need to be hidden to retain a "good image".

in the fifth grade they taught us how to calculate probability, but my heart taught me to believe in chance.

  in seventh grade, teachers stole the megaphone from my heart and gave it to my brain.

my brain helped me survive (with minimal scrapes) until now.

   there are 197 days until graduation and i need to hear my heart more than ever.

 but my brain keeps turning up the volume.

 i play bloody knuckles every morning in an attempt to win it back.

but my blood has an anger concentration of .04,

 it's genetic condition that fuels a never ending argument between my heart and my brain.