WARRIOR

After my dad's illness and death from an astrocytoma in 1987, I was "traumatized", to say the least.  
I recall wanting to die with him, so he wouldn't have to face death alone, and frankly, I really had no desire to know "life" without him, anyway.
Needless to say, I was what one would consider "suicidal", and I was absolutely depressed.  For a 21 year old girl who had a dreamy childhood, my life had taken a swift plummet south as soon as I hit 20.  

To understand the extent of my trauma I'd have to start at October 30, 1985, when I was involved in the now-famous "Sylvia Seegrist shooting spree" at the Springfield Mall in Springfield, PA (my hometown).  
For those who don't know it, Seegrist was the first female mass murderer in the U.S.  I'll spare you the gruesome details of that event for now, but suffice to say it took an enormous toll on my sense of security in public places.  I literally watched a young child die in front of me.

Between the trauma from that experience and my father's illness and death, I was in a very rancid pit of PTSD with extreme anxiety and agoraphobia, which was only the beginning of almost 20 years of my own personal hell.  A spiral of paralyzing fears mixed with drugs, mixed with alcohol, mixed with layers of feigned confidence, angst, and blatant disregard for any form of self-respect.  

Put simply: I made sure I felt nothing, and I didn't give a f*ck...about anything except my Mom.  She's the only reason I'm still alive today.  I didn't want to hurt her.

It was at this time that I fell into hardcore fandom for music like PIL, Sugarcubes, NIN, Ministry, and the like.  I found extreme comfort in the anarchy of Johnny Rotten's PIL lyrics.  They were angst-driven for the tenured punks, the aged angry, if you will... and I was one of those folks.  Older, more refined, yet still angry as f*ck at the cruel world... 

ENTER: "Warrior", my favorite song by PIL, which would become my personal anthem - my mantra.  For a bruised and damaged young woman, the words were perfectly fitting.  They rang the battle cry of "I AM WHO I FUCKING AM, AND I DON'T GIVE A FUCK, I'M NOT CHANGING!!!" 

Give a listen, and soak in the lyrics: 

Fields they have eyes

Woods they have ears

Fish always sink

Head first downwards

I'll never dismount

I ride this tiger

Crosses are ladders

Leading to heaven

I'm a warrior

I take no prisoner

Keep the candle burning

Bright in the window

It's the only light i'll see tonight

Beggars can't be choosers

Shrouds they have no pockets

Some of us wake up

Others roll over

But not I

I'm a warrior

This is my land

I'm a warrior

This is my land

I'll never surrender

I'm a warrior

Hear this dog bark

Watch the trees sway

Keep the candle burning

Both night and day

Many invade

I take no quarter

This is my land

I'll never surrender

I'm a warrior

This is my land

I'll never surrender

I'm a warrior

I'll never surrender

I take no prisoner

I'm a warrior

Warrior

I'm a warrior

These fields have eyes

These woods have ears

Many invade

But I take no quarter

This is my land

I'm a warrior

I'm a warrior

I'll never dismount

I ride the tiger

Oh, yes.  I rode that angry tiger like a screaming banshee toward my own personal island of detachment and fear.  I let no one in, I made no apologies for it, and I was fucking LONELY as hell, but too proud to admit it, and too fearful to change it.

CUT TO: my desire to get the hell off of my Xanax and OTC addiction, kill my paralyzing fears, and go out in the world and actually LIVE once and for all (This happened almost 15 years later, btw...more on that later).

By this time, my anthem had become too dear to me to toss away.  It remained safely in the back of my brain, resonating through the sounds of each day, like some kind of unending loop of daily announcements on the loud-speaker in school...it was ALWAYS there...reminding me to hold fast to who I was. 

When I realized years later that I wanted to use my traumatic experiences from my earlier life to help save other people, I realized that my anthem still held it's water.  As Johnny "Rotten" Lydon also bellows, "Anger Is An Energy" in his song "Rise"... I realized it really is an energy.  And that's also part of the meaning inside my anthem.  I could use my angst and fear as the energies that they are to propel myself in a POSITIVE direction, instead of further into the downward spiral of fear and depression.  What a beautiful thing that is!  I could still ride my tiger, but into a new life - a REAL life. I could still take no quarter...and most importantly to me, I could still have my anthem.

TODAY, as an advocate for mental health and personal development through DURTY GURLZ mudders, I offer you my anthem.  I offer you my translation of it's phrases as a kind of key, or value set.  Take it or leave it.  I'm willing to share it now...because after all, Shrouds they have no pockets...and I have woken up.
(thanks to a young man named D'Artagnan, who you'll meet soon)...

HOW TO BE A WARRIOR: 

• Ride the tiger: HOLD FAST; never surrender; stay strong and focused. (ENDURE)
• Take no quarter: I know who am, what I want, and I will not compromise.
• Shrouds have no pockets: You cannot take anything with you when you die; what matters is WHO you are & what you do with the time given to you. (KARMA) 
• Crosses are ladders leading to Heaven: Enduring challenges can make you more virtuous (stronger) “Endure & Prevail”.

I challenge you to use this anthem (or find one of your own) to keep you on your journey.  If you want to live, TRULY LIVE - go here. NOW.