Adena M'lynn's Voice

  Let's talk about this whole thing with unspoken expectations in relationships. It's like walking through a minefield, isn't it? You've got these hopes and needs that you don't voice out loud, maybe because you think they're obvious or perhaps you're afraid of being vulnerable. And the kicker? The other person is often totally oblivious to them. Try thinking about it like this: you're silently fuming because your partner isn't doing the dishes, yet you've never actually discussed who's on dish duty. It's a recipe for disaster, right? You're annoyed, they're clueless, and nobody's happy. This silent expectation game can really put a strain on things. And here’s the thing about these unspoken rules we set in our minds: they can build up some serious resentment. It’s like collecting these little nuggets of disappointment every time our silent expectations aren’t met. Over time, that really weighs down a relationship. What’s a so

These posts are prescheduled for Wednesday’s and Saturday’s over the next year.  Tears are the silent bearers of our deepest emotions, each type carrying its own unique weight. Grief-laden tears are heavy, saturated with the anguish of irretrievable loss, falling like leaden rain from the soul's darkened sky. They carry the immense burden of absence, each drop a poignant reminder of what was and will never be again. Tears of pain are sharp, cutting through the facade of strength to expose the raw, unfiltered essence of human vulnerability. They are the physical manifestation of inner turmoil, a silent scream for comfort or escape. Loss bestows tears with a profound gravity, a slow and steady stream reflecting the hollow emptiness of a space once filled. These tears are quiet, often solitary, marking the passage of cherished moments into memories. In contrast, tears of joy sparkle with the lightness of relief and happiness, cascading in effervescent streams that cleanse the heart of

Hospice care, often misunderstood and underutilized, is a beacon of compassion and support, especially for those who find themselves alone during the final chapters of their life. It’s a service that extends beyond medical care, offering emotional, spiritual, and practical support to those facing a life-limiting illness. When an individual is alone, whether due to the loss of family and friends, estrangement, or other circumstances, the journey towards life’s end can be particularly difficult. In such times, hospice care becomes not just a service, but a lifeline, offering a human touch and a comforting presence amidst the complexities of end-of-life care.   Personalized Care and Attention Hospice teams consist of doctors, nurses, social workers, spiritual advisors, and volunteers who work together to provide personalized care. For someone who is alone, this multidisciplinary approach means that they have a dedicated team to attend to their needs, listen to their fears, and offer comfo

  Preparing for hospice care, whether for oneself or a loved one, is a deeply personal and significant journey. It involves understanding the purpose of hospice, preparing emotionally and practically, and ensuring comfort and dignity during this phase of life. Here’s a guide to help navigate the process of preparing for hospice care.   Understanding Hospice Care Hospice care focuses on comfort and quality of life for individuals with life-limiting illnesses. It’s about providing compassionate care, managing pain and symptoms, and offering emotional and spiritual support. Recognizing when it’s time for hospice is a critical step, often recommended when a person is expected to have six months or less to live, according to medical prognosis.     Emotional Preparation The transition to hospice care is emotionally challenging. Open conversations about wishes, fears, and expectations are vital. Discussing end-of-life plans can be tough but is necessary for ensuring that the person’s preferen

Let me introduce myself. I call myself Adena M'lynn – a survivor of childhood sexual trauma, an ex-convict, a psychiatric patient, and a person striving to liberate myself from the relentless nightmares that haunt my mind and compel me toward actions of devastation. I know I have talents that help keep me in a somewhat good state of mind, yet it never lasts. In my wake, like America, I  both create and destroy, leaving a trail of chaos, broken promises, lost friendships, and abandoned relationships that reverberate through my entire life. I have had a constant life of self-harm in ways most people would never think a person could do to themselves. Before I jump into deep water, I wish to clarify that I don't claim expertise in resolving the intricate challenges that afflict our nation. Nevertheless, I've been a silent observer of the heartrending tragedies that infiltrate our schools, homes, workplaces, sporting venues, churches, and every intersection of human interaction.

In the soft embrace of the earth, where sorrow met the silence of nature's tender watch, something beautiful began to stir. The day they laid her in the ground was marked not just by loss but by the quiet promise of beauty. New flowers, as if summoned by an unspoken understanding, began to bloom in the days that followed. Their colors, vibrant against the backdrop of loss, seemed to capture the essence of a life lived with joy, pain, love, and ultimately, a graceful surrender to the cycle that binds all life. These blossoms, tender and resilient, whispered of a beauty that transcends our understanding of beginnings and endings. In this space, where tears seep into the soil to nourish roots hidden from sight, the emergence of these flowers served as a gentle reminder. They spoke of the perpetual motion of life, of how even in the depth of our grief, the world quietly crafts beauty as a testament to what was and a place of hope for what is yet to come. Thus, the burial ground, the fi

 As I rest my head in the palm of your hand, I gaze into your eyes, finding in them an ocean of warmth and understanding. The tender care you give to me, as you stroke my face with your fingertips, comforts me, banishing the world's chaos to the to soft song of my consciousness. Each gentle touch is a whisper of reassurance, a silent promise that in this moment, I am safe, cherished, and understood. Your eyes, mirrors to your soul, hold stories untold, yet in this silent communion, I feel them intertwine with mine.The world around us fades, its sounds and sights dimming into insignificance, leaving only the shared warmth of our connection. In this embrace of souls, time seems to pause, bending to the will of our shared moment. The worries that once clouded my thoughts dissipate, like mist under the morning sun, leaving a clarity of being that I had thought lost. You have become my sanctuary, a haven from storms, both internal and external. As the minutes stretch into eternity, I re

Religion, at its core, is meant to provide spiritual guidance, a sense of community, and moral direction to its followers. It offers comfort in times of distress, a sense of belonging in a vast world, and a moral compass to navigate through life's challenges. However, throughout history, the purity of religious intentions has often been overshadowed by its misuse as a tool for control, harm, and discrimination. Let's look at how religious beliefs have been exploited in various contexts to justify actions and policies that cause harm to others, aiming to provide insights into the complexities of religion's role in societal issues. The Historical Context Historically, religion has been a significant source of influence in society, wielding power over cultural norms, laws, and even governance. This deep-rooted influence has, unfortunately, been manipulated to justify wars, genocides, and acts of terror. The Crusades, for instance, serve as a stark example of how religious moti

In my quiet contemplation of endings, I've come to recognize something I call " The Last ..." - a poignant reflection on the transient nature of our existence. It's an acknowledgment of the inevitable finalities I will face: the last sunset painting the sky with hues of gold and crimson, the last sunrise ushering in the dawn of my final day, the last kiss imbued with a lifetime of love and longing, and the last hello, whispered with the weight of goodbye. This realization brings with it a sense of anxiety, a premonition of loss for moments yet unexperienced, and for connections that remain unmade. I am acutely aware of the finite nature of time, feeling its pressure more intensely as I anticipate these ultimate experiences. There's a longing in my heart for simple pleasures yet to be savored, like enjoying a big ol' glass of sweet tea on a warm afternoon, which stands as a symbol of comfort and a reminder of the joys that life's simplicity offers. Yet, in

When life's journey brings unforeseen challenges, prolonged healing processes, or unanswered prayers, we find ourselves at a crossroads. The choice becomes stark: either cling desperately to our circumstances, attempting to manipulate, predict, or control the uncontrollable, or step forward with open hands and a humble heart, fully aware that God's ways are beyond our understanding—unpredictable, often challenging, yet always moving forward. God's plans and methods are heavenly, transcending our earthly comprehension. As we reflect on the rough patches, the difficult changes, and the times of despair we've faced, we will come to see their necessity in our lives, realizing, "This was all part of God's plan to bring me to this point." This readiness to embrace change and uncertainty showcases a deep faith in God, the Creator, rather than in the outcomes or the details of our situations. It's a testament to trusting in God's plan above our own, recogn

by adena m’lynn My body was not my own Taken without consent Forced to endure the violence of his loin. My spirit battered and bent Too young to comprehend The evil he portends Stealing what wasn't his to take Leaving scars that forever ache He convinced me of his love,  Yet locked me in silence with every shove, Trapped in fear's cruel vice Fate was nothing more than a roll of the dice The pain he caused haunts me still  But I'm healing  Shedding shame that wasn't mine As I find my voice and say No more will he have power All secrets brought to light My spirit will now fly unbroken  I emerged from his blight.

The plight of Native American communities in the United States is a stark reminder of the long-term impacts of colonization, manifesting in various forms of social and economic distress. One of the most devastating of these impacts is the disproportionately high rates of drug and alcohol abuse within these communities. This issue is not merely a matter of individual choice or moral failing but is deeply rooted in historical trauma, systemic marginalization, and ongoing socio-economic disparities. Historical Context and Its Implications The history of substance abuse in Native American communities can be traced back to the earliest interactions with European colonizers, who introduced alcohol. This introduction was not benign but had devastating effects on social structures, health, and well-being. Over generations, these initial patterns of substance use have been exacerbated by factors such as forced relocation, cultural assimilation policies, and economic deprivation. Today, th

From the depths of my being, I've always known my soul belongs to God. It's in His unwavering love that I've found comfort and hope, a beacon guiding me through the tempests of life and illuminating my moments of joy. Despite the shadows that often veiled my path—days, months, and years filled with darkness—my spirit remained cradled in His grace. His mercy and love have been ever-present, a testament to the boundless compassion He offers us all, no matter our path. Our shared moments, the acts of kindness, the supportive words, and the comforting embraces, have all been manifestations of God's love through you. You might not have realized it, but through your actions, you've embodied His grace in my life. Reflecting on this, the scripture Matthew 25:35-37 profoundly resonates with my experiences. Through our bond and friendship, I've felt the Divine love and fellowship. As I stand on the brink of what feels like my final chapter, I implore you to see the love t

  In American society, woven with vibrate threads of ambition and dreams, there exists a stark divide that has its roots deeply embedded in the era of colonization. This historical period, marked by conquest and subjugation, laid the groundwork for a range of systemic inequalities that persist to this day, notably within the realm of education. As we navigate the complexities of the 21st century, it becomes increasingly clear that despite advancements, we have not traversed far enough towards an equitable society. The dominance of boys and sports within the U.S. educational system serves as a vivid illustration of how, even amidst change, equality and equitability remain distant goals. The Historical Context: Education as a Tool of Colonization Education, in the days of colonization, was primarily a tool wielded by the colonizers to impose their values, culture, and control over the colonized. It was an instrument of assimilation rather than empowerment, designed to reinforce the super