There was a time I thought I was going to be a famous rock star. When I finally stepped into the world (at age 20) I fell in love with music and decided that that’s what I was going to do for the rest of my life. Fate had different plans though. PTSD hit me really hard somewhere along the line and flashbacks came relentlessly for a couple of years straight. With them came depression, fevers and a total loss of my health. I couldn’t work, I couldn’t sing, I could barely hang on. I don’t know if my dream of being a singer died or if I died or what happened. I just couldn’t do it anymore.
Painting was working out for me, though. Painting is what I love to do now, and I am so glad I’m not, and never have been, a famous singer! Although, every now and then I do love to sit with the radio and sing as much as I want. I love to remember that there was a time that I could sing well. But this is my *it*, life one day at a time, giving it all I’ve got, still holding out for the ultimate dream. That dream drives me. It tells me I must do something great. “Don’t stop until you do”.