The term “to do or die,” comes from Robert Burns’ poem Robert Bruce’s March to Bannockburn, a poem about the first War of Scottish Independence.

As a child, when I struggled with a project but was failing, I was told, “If at first you don’t succeed, try, try, again.” This proverb means that success does not always come with our first attempt. What I wanted at the time, and often still do, is help in understanding why I am having a problem. 

Keeping our minds focused on what we want to achieve and to keep on trying is a good way to succeed. Unfortunately, it did not work well for me for a long time. It was as though my brain was stuck. The help I needed was never forthcoming, and I felt I died a little each time I was stuck. What I know now, is that I needed someone to lift the weight off my mind and free up the creativity within my mind. All I achieved at the time was a deep sadness inside my brain, which I fight daily to overcome. 

I became angry as a child, biting my hands and arms to create a distraction, retreating into myself, and often giving up. I still have to fight daily to overcome that feeling, although I have learned not to beat myself up and to give myself a little grace. Know that I am capable, and eventually, I will find the answers to the project. I lose a lot of time and miss opportunities that I know I could achieve With a little help from my friends, as the song by the Beatles says. 

One such occasion occurred a few weeks ago. I have a small gate that has never opened correctly. I asked the original installer to fix it, but that person could not or would not; I no longer remember. I have looked at the problem many times but have never been able to understand the problem until recently. 

Part of my internal chatter was: if the contractor could not fix it, then how could I? One day, knowing I wanted people in the future to come through that gate, I really looked at it. I saw that the problem was the hinges; they did not fold as I opened the gate but stayed flat. They were the kind that only opened one way. They were screwed on backward and rusted. I bought new hinges, put them on with long enough screws, as I know that can be an issue, and voila, I had a nice gate that swung open when required. It was a small achievement, but it made me feel good all day then, and each time since then, when I have opened the gate to walk through on the boardwalk, I smile.

It is the same with my memoir writing. It was not the writer’s block that stopped me, but emotions caused by the traumatic incidents in my memory. I am trying, at present, to complete a chapter where there were so many stresses in one year that I feel the weight pushing me back into silence. How can I write without the anger I still feel? About the fear and terrible loneliness that was engulfing me? I felt like I was struggling to keep my head above water. I was in the throes of depression. I did not know or understand that was the problem. I functioned as a wife, mother, sister, and oldest child of my mother by just putting one foot in front of the other. 

The first half of my second memoir has gone well; my first readers have done a wonderful job. My editor and graphic designer have completed an incredible job. Lastly, I am excited to read that my proofreader has found errors that are easily missed in multiple readings. 

I tell myself, “Give yourself a little grace.” I have survived and am succeeding little by little every day.

Here is a poem I wrote many years ago.

I Am 

I am…

Part of a family,  

All of my heritage,

They affect me, nourish me,

Are the reason I am.

I have gifts;

Strong hidden powers

Deep inside

I have fears;

A family of ancestors,

A way of life, 

I have desires;

Reverse the pain,

Find my true self

Take control of me.

To be…