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How I Got Started

For years, I suffered from mental health & kept going in and out of hospitals, never feeling like I had a place in life. I couldn't see any good in the world and spent years going in and out of hospitals being readmitted about every two weeks. I'd spend 2 or 3 weeks at a time in each stay before I came across poetry. Before I realized what poetry was, I was almost already doing it. I remember being in the rooms for Quite time (a time we had to be in our room for 30-45 minutes and not come out.) And just sing and make up songs. Some of them were good for only being 12 years old. Every song I made I would rhyme every sentence. In my mind that wasn't what a song sounded like. I also never finished them since I wasn't able to end them the way I wanted to. I came across poetry during homework hour I started reading this book and there was this most beautiful poem. I fell in love with the rhyming and the meaning behind it. I then started to write poems about my own life and the different things I thought about. I started showing my poems to ones close to me. Everyone told me I had a natural gift for writing. Some even said my poetry almost brought them to tears. It gave me a lot of confidence and I started to write more and more. I started using poetry as a way to cope. As a safe haven to let out pent up feelings and emotions that otherwise I was unable to speak. As I did that I ended up staying out of hospitals for a few months. Although after a while started to get tongue-tied and completely stopped. I went back in and they started me on art therapy. At first, It really didn't work for me. I was really stiff trying to draw something realistic. It wouldn't help me relax because I kept getting mad that I couldn't make it look exactly the way I thought it should. Kate kept telling me to open up and spread out my surface. I hated her for telling me that because I didn't understand what she meant and I also wanted so badly to be a realist artist. I eventually tried it thinking I was doing it for Kate. So I could give her the satisfaction. But when I did it a few times with her, I loved it! I started making art the same way I did with poetry. People told me they could see my feelings through my art. Even though I could never see it, I was mesmerized by the fact others were able to tell what was on my mind without me even having to speak a word. I then used that as my 2nd coping skill, when unable to speak the words I wanted to through poetry. After a while, I began to see the world in different lighting. I eventually wanted to use the struggles and the pain of my life toward something good and encouraging. I wanted to become a helpful role to those seeking inspiration, help, or advice. I decided to use my poems and drawings to demonstrate that role and become an international support around the world. Around age 18 I developed Never_Run_From_Pain with a mission to give others a taste of what goes on in my mind, and in my life and In the process creating a safe haven for someone else that may be struggling the way I had in the past. I began to put my dream into action to help offer a way for people to seek Inspiration, Hope, Guidance, or anything else to make their worlds a little brighter.

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Sandy Beach

"There once was an oyster whose story I tell, Who found that some sand had got into his shell. It was only a grain, But it gave him great pain. For oysters have feelings although they're so plain. Now did he berate the harsh workings of fate that had brought him to such a deplorable state? Did he curse at the government, Cry for election, And claim that the sea should have given him protection? No-he said to himself as he lay on a shell, Since I cannot remove it. I shall try to improve it. Now the years rolled around, as the years always do, And he came to his ultimate destiny-stew. and that small grain of sand that had bothered him so was a beautiful pearl all richly aglow. Now this tale has a moral; For isn't it grand what an oyster can do with a morsel of sand? what couldn't we do if we'd only begin with some of the things that get under our skin."

The Oyster Poem

Unknown Author

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