be great

I see that phrase everywhere here.
Be great.
I am in no way promoting Jones,
I believe most everything here is overrated,
but I have always wanted to be great!

When I was small,
I  was confused,
about life and the people in and out of mine.
II always yearned to be great.

My idea of greatness was always different than the other kids.
We would play super hero games,
and I would always wanted the smallest,
most insignificant super power.
I thought I could take something everyone thought was nothing,
and make it into something amazing.
The up side to that tactic,
I was different from everyone.
Everyone wanted to do and be the most popular.
I wanted to be small,
so I could show everyone that the small things matter.

That idea has followed me.
Now I want to be small,
and make known my flaws,
so that they can see God shine through them.

I used to find greatness in silly things,
I identified myself by them,
yearning to mold myself to the ideas in my head.

A single mother, devoted and loving,
A strong individual,
A beautiful heart through hardship,
An underpaid job making big differences,
Someone standing through a storm,
Better yet,
Someone fighting through a storm,

I find the broken people beautiful,
and I have great respect for people putting forth effort.
Those things define greatness.

I now envision big things,
HUGE things.

I am getting my PhD in Social work,
Yes,
lowly social work.
Of course I will work with the system for a while.
Ultimately,
I want to get involved with a nonprofit organization,
I want to make it HUGE.
I want to reinvent the orphanage,
I want to reach out to broken people everywhere,
I want to give everyone a chance to be great.

Offer food and clothing,
Offer housing,
Offer social services,
Stability,
Love,
The things we all need.

I want to be great.
No so much [I] want to be great,
as I want [God] to be great in me.

There is a comment box here
So help curb my curiosity,
what do you see greatness as???

Living the college life

College is overrated.

Glorified high school some like to say.

There are a lot of people, 

a lot of walking,

and I get to be invisible all over again.

Don't get me wrong,

the whole invisible things is to my advantage as a writer.

I get to see people,

see how normal people react and how they cope.

The whole atmosphere here, however,

triggers my depression.

Unfortunately the cafeteria triggers my ED.

I can remember the caf when I was small.

It started in pre-K.

I have always been picky,

I believe I probably has a food sensory problem,

but we ate in the caf in pre-K,

and they wouldn't let my mum send a lunch for me.

People made fun of me,

for not eating what they were,

and my eating habits got worse,

I got used to living off of snacks and junk.

I tried the caf at school when I started school,

but as stated before,

I've always been super picky.

Not to mention someone else made it,

and who knew if they washed their hands,

or let my food touch, and thoughts like that disgusted me.

Then I grew increasingly uncomfortable around food,

the smells and textures grossed me out,

and watching people eat made me sick.

I hated eating around people,

and I hated going through the line and holding a tray of food that sickened me.

I stopped going through the line and my teachers got worried.

Once my mother was notified she grew concerned.

She started packing me a lunch.

I began giving my sandwiches away, 

and only ate the snacks for lunch.

I couldn't stand to think of someone touching my food,

or it not being fresh,

or eating it in front of someone.

By second grade I got caught giving my sandwich away on the bus,

my brothers told my mum,

and I had to find a new game plan.

For years I threw it away,

never touched it,

occasionally I forgot and my mother found it.

As I got older,

I was expected to take care of myself.

We couldn't really afford snacks,

so I never brought a lunch.

The worst part of every day was lunch,

I hated sitting in the cafeteria, 

filthy with food.

Especially after I was consumed with my eating disorder.

That uncomfort never went away.

Even now, while I'm here recovered.

And that is an overview of the worst part of my life.

Out of the yelling,

the fighting,

angry parents,

a troubled childhood,

broken family,

self-inflicted pain,

the worst was the food, and the caf,

I hate food, and food related things.

I have had to find ways to cope,

and it hasn't been easy.

And all I eat still is junk.

Today I ate at the caf,

and everything came flooding back.

I felt 

small,

weak,

fragile,

uncomfortable,

less,

overwhelmed,

and consumed.

So today, I pray to God that college doesn't break me.

I'm not normal,

I'm not like these people,

but I am a child of God,

a servant of God,

and I'm relying on him.

If you made it this far, I'm asking you for something.

I want your story.

Your honest story,

and I will post it anonymously,

so no one will know its you.

Lets change lives,

lets let people know what we have been through 

and where we are.

Email it to andriadawn321@gmail.com.

and share this blog for others to send their story in to.

Lets be pro active.

Regrets...

That is what hurts the most.
The regrets.
So many people,
who were so close,
or supposed to be,
and now their gone.
I am left with my regrets.

Why?
Why wasn't I who I should have been?
Why didn't I try harder?
It's too late to be who I wanted to be now.

Over and over again this happens...
I am always left with regrets.

Death terrifies me.
Not mine,
but other peoples.
I don't know how I would handle myself.

The thought of losing some people tears me apart.
MAD respect for all of you out there who survive through the lost of loved ones.

I guess that I have,
but I can't look back and tell you how.

Well other than that,
I can honestly say I've lost control of myself  a few times,
the stress of life and perfection have gotten through.
More accurately,
Satan got through.
Boy, that's hard to admit.

My scale read 92.4,
and I got great joy from that,
all I could think for two days straight,
" If I get below 90, its a danger zone,
I won't be able to stop myself."
I didn't consume my mind with those words with worry,
but rather excitement.
That makes my stomach turn,
to know that person is still in there.

beauty is NOT a size, a look, clothes, makeup, or acceptance,
beauty is a FEELING.
I feel beautiful when I am comfortable with myself.
Who is to judge you because your comfortable with different things than other people?
Unfortunately,
Satan tries to convince me that I feel beautiful with social acceptance,
or with a certain weight.

For am I looking for the approval of man or God?  If I were looking for the approval of man I would not be a servant of God.
Galatians 1:10

That verse is posted on my mirror,
because I AM a servant of God.

Well, I have taken on my life,
and I am doing it with zeal.
Church, Bible, College, Assistant Manager, Ballet.
I am fully relliant on God,
because it is not by my own strength I can do this.
I do have this amazing blessing helping me all along the way,
His name is David,
and I am so glad God brought us together.

Well, there it is guys.
My life in a nutshell as of late.
Thank you for your eyes and internet service,
stay in tune for the next expression of pointless emotion.

God bless,
Andria Dawn McMillen.