My Gutsy Story Archives - Page 15 of 46 - Sonia Marsh

Vote For Your Favorite December 2013 “My Gutsy Story®”

January 2, 2014 by Sonia Marsh 2 Comments

Happy New Year everyone and get ready to VOTE for your favorite one of 5 “My Gutsy Story®” submissions. You have from now until January 15th to vote on the sidebar, (only one vote per person) and the winner will be announced on January 16th, and will select a prize from our generous sponsors. (We have 2 new sponsors Shannon Hernandez and Dorit Sasson added to the list.)

Our 1st “My Gutsy Story®” is by Marian Beaman, “Rising Above the Pettiness to Focus On the Positive.”

Our 2nd “My Gutsy Story®” is by Felicia Johnson, “How Writing Saved My Life.”

Our 3rd “My Gutsy Story®” is by Ian Mathie “Waiting for My Camel to Come Back.”

Our 4th “My Gutsy Story®” is by Jessica O’Gorek, “Why I Love Crack” (an inspiring story of her recovery.)

Our 5th “My Gutsy Story®” is by Laurie Buchanan “I thought I was stupid; Now I have a PhD.”

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I hope you enjoy their stories and vote for your favorite one on the sidebar. Please check out their books as well. There are links to them at the bottom of each story.

Do you have a “My Gutsy Story®” you’d like to share?

Click on cover to go to Amazon

Would you like to submit your “My Gutsy Story®” and get published in our 2nd anthology?

Please see guidelines below and contact Sonia Marsh at: sonia@soniamarsh.com for details.

You can find all the information, and our new sponsors on the “My Gutsy Story®” contest page. (VIDEO) Submission guidelines here

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Our first fantastic January 2014 “My Gutsy Story®” starts with Joe Magidsohn on January 6th. Please stop by, you’ll love it.

I thought I was Stupid; Now I have a PhD

December 30, 2013 by Sonia Marsh 23 Comments

From GED to PhD

“My Gutsy Story®” by Laurie Buchanan

Following thirteen months behind my only sibling’s footsteps was hard. Really hard. From elementary school on, Julie was a glowing student. Barely having to crack a book, she absorbed, digested, and understood information seemingly by osmosis, and had fun doing it.

1-IMG_1591 — Laurie Buchanan elementary school.

She maintained straight A’s throughout her academic career, was listed on every honor roll, was valedictorian of her graduating class, and earned a scholarship to San Diego State University. I, on the other hand, struggled to maintain a C average and ran away from home at the age of fifteen.

Let’s take a moment and rewind…

I thought I was stupid. Compared to my sister, it certainly appeared that way. However, it wasn’t until many years later I discovered that I learn in a different way from how I was being taught. There are three learning styles:

Auditory learners grasp things by hearing them—the worst test type for them is reading passages and writing answers about them in a timed test. They’re best at writing responses to lectures they’ve heard. They’re also good at oral exams.

Visual learners comprehend through seeing them—the worst test type for them is listen and respond. They’re best at diagramming, reading maps, essays (if they’ve studied using an outline), and showing a process.

Tactile (kinesthetic) learners understand through experiencing/doing them—the worst test type for them is lengthy tests and essays. They’re best at short definitions, fill in the blanks, and multiple choice.

The general teaching population when I was in school were auditory teachers. As a heavily tactile learner, with a smidgen of visual thrown in for good measure, I was missing the boat!

Fast forward…

When you run away from home, you also run away from school. Had I done any advance planning—which I had not—I would have known that if you leave high school before you graduate, you can’t test for a GED—General Education Diploma—until two years after your graduating class.

“Why not?” I asked. The firm, but polite career counselor at Clark College, the local junior college in Vancouver, Washington—a few states from home—explained that if that particular stop-gap measure weren’t in place, every high school student would jump ship early.

I had lied about my age and was working at Fred Meyer, a large, everything-under-one-roof store. Over the next few years I worked my way up to managing the women’s wear department, then added men’s wear, and topped it off with furniture.

During this window of time I was gaining valuable life experience. Part of this seat-of-the-pants wisdom was learning to say, “I don’t understand. Can you please explain it differently?” And then I noticed that no matter how many times someone “told” me, it wasn’t until they “showed” me that I got it! When shown, I not only met, but exceeded what was expected of me.

Managing all of those departments wasn’t enough to keep my mind fully occupied. If testing for the GED was out of the question at that time, I wanted to know if they’d at least let me take CLEP tests (College Level Examination Program) so I’d be ready to hit the ground running at the junior college level once I had my diploma in hand. The same polite, but firm career counselor I’d spoken with before explained, “That program is for high school graduates and people who’ve already earned their GED.”

I’d left high school as a sophomore in 1973. Four long years I waited and prepared to take the GED examination. On a hot day in late June of 1977, with the cut-grass tang of summer in the air, I slipped into a front row seat at the testing center; one of about twenty other people enveloped in the sterile classroom setting. The examiner explained that talking was expressly prohibited.

The all-day test was given in seven parts: Language Arts (writing)—50 questions, 75 minutes. Language Arts (reading) 40 questions, 65 minutes. Social Studies—50 questions, 70 minutes. Science—50 questions, 80 minutes. Math (calculator allowed)—25 questions, 45 minutes. Math (calculator not allowed)—25 questions, 45 minutes. US Constitution—45 questions, 60 minutes.

Head high with a face-splitting grin, I left the facility with every confidence that I’d aced the test. Six weeks later I received my GED certificate in the mail. And that was just the beginning. Over time I earned my associates degree, then bachelors, followed by a masters degree. Finally, two weeks before my fiftieth birthday, I sat and defended my PhD thesis.

Hard-wired for buoyancy and tenacious as a terrier, when I set my mind on something I go after it with tremendous resolve. It took a while, but I eventually went from GED to PhD.

You might be wondering why I ran away from home. Ah, that’s another story…

LAURIE BUCHANAN BIO:

Board Certified with the American Association of Drugless Practitioners, Laurie Buchanan is a holistic health practitioner and transformation life coach. With the philosophy of “Whatever you are not changing, you are choosing,” Laurie works with the whole person, helping them turn intention into action; bridging the gap between where they are, and where they want to be — body, mind, and spirit. Please join Laurie on Twitter @HolEssence, and please like her on Facebook.

SONIA MARSH SAYS: I know your story will motivate someone to keep going with their education. I remember struggling to “memorize” certain subjects in school, without understanding the concepts. Congratulations on getting your PhD., and not giving up.

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Do you have a “My Gutsy Story®” you’d like to share?

Click on cover to go to Amazon

Would you like to submit your “My Gutsy Story®” and get published in our 2nd anthology?

Please see guidelines below and contact Sonia Marsh at: sonia@soniamarsh.com for details.

You can find all the information, and our new sponsors on the “My Gutsy Story®” contest page. (VIDEO) Submission guidelines here

VOTING for your favorite December 2013 stories starts on January 2nd, 2014, and ends on January 15th. The WINNER is announced on January 16th. Please check out all our December stories with Marian Beaman and Fee Johnson, Ian Mathie, Jessica O’Gorek and Laurie Buchanan, sharing their “My Gutsy Story®.”

“Why I love Crack” by Jessica O’Gorek

December 23, 2013 by Sonia Marsh 13 Comments

Why I love crack cocaine

My Gutsy Story® by Jessica O’Gorek

“I DO NOT ENCOURAGE THE USE OF any legal, illegal or recreational drugs, period. This is a story and not a love confession for crack cocaine. I condone no mind altering substances, not even alcohol, which is why I haven’t even had a beer in over TEN years!”–Jessica O-Gorek.

At eight years old, my parents divorced: strike one. At ten, my mother was bi-polar and had spent a good six months in Western State Mental Hospital then took off to Richmond where I didn’t see her for a good year. I was told she was sick and couldn’t handle raising me at the time: strike three. At twelve, I decided I wanted to smoke cigarettes and being the all-knowing teenager, I would proceed to replace the love I was lacking from my mother by getting it from boys. So I started having sex and sneaking out in the middle of the night: strike four. At thirteen, I met my future husband: strike five, six and seven. At sixteen, I got drunk for the first time and spent a good half an hour retching in my boyfriend’s front yard: lost count! At seventeen, my father didn’t know what to do with my sorry ass anymore so he left me at his house and went to live thirty minutes away with his girlfriend. At eighteen, I got married, bought a house and two acres in the country and smoked a joint for the first time: Strike infinite!

What follows is a whirlwind story about spousal, drug and all forms of abuse, combined with motherhood, addiction, recovery and chasing my ultimate dream of becoming an author.

Now, where was I? Oh, right, eighteen. I quickly learned that my husband and high school sweet heart is a controlling, physically and emotionally abusive redneck and that the only way we could tolerate each other was by smoking a lot of weed. Twenty: It’s time for a baby! Yeah, I thought maybe a crying, stinky swaddled mess of adorable would save our marriage. Ha! Thankfully, my daughter, combined with a new drug, cocaine, would be the beginning of the end of my first pitiful marriage. When he decided to hit me in front of her at ten months old and strangled me because I wouldn’t let him put coke on certain body parts, I decided it was time to leave.

At twenty, I took my girl and ran over to where my dad moved. I met up with my other high school sweetheart, got my own place for the first time and got clean for about six months. Then I met White Boy Larry, the equivalent of my pimp in disguise. White Boy Larry was his code name to get into the crack house where he introduced me to my new lover, Crack.

Crack and I got along splendidly! He would keep me up all night, make me feel like superwoman, helped me lose weight, and cleaned my house, the perfect life companion, right? Our relationship was one of few words and little emotional growth. He always seemed to know what I wanted, when I wanted it and I couldn’t get enough of him! If he was gone, even for a second, I would miss him so badly! I would go out at all odd hours of the night to try and find him and bring him safely home. The only issue was he wanted me all to himself and would rarely give up any space in my brain or heart so I could share it with my daughter.

After six months, our beautiful relationship began to take a serious nosedive. When he found out I was cheating on him with Sam, my soon to be second husband, he got a little angry. When I told him my daughter meant more to me than him, he got even angrier; so angry that he kept me up for three days, stressed me out so much I developed hives and couldn’t’ eat or drink anything!

Finally, with Sam’s encouragement, I was able to break up with Crack. Sam told me I had an addiction to Crack and that I needed some serious help to get over him. At ninety pounds, with hives and an empty shell of a soul, I made a decision to enter into substance abuse counseling with sixteen other addicts like myself.

That was in 2003, at age 23. I had a few epiphanies while in counseling. As I sat in a room with sixteen other ladies, the counselor told us all that one of us would still be clean within one year’s time. As I looked at the other ladies with their scars and tats, the empty sadness in their eyes reminded me of wounded animals in a cage. I decided that I would be that one person and that no one would stop me. For once, my stubbornness was on my side and not against me.

I quit using all legal, (alcohol included) and illegal substances. I became a wonderful mother, married Sam in 2005, quit smoking cigarettes in 2007, and became a religious exerciser and a vegetarian. Today, I have been clean for eleven years, I run 3-5 miles a day, 4 days a week, I earn a dependable 50K a year, I have a car that’s paid for, my own place, a fabulous 13-year-old girl, I’m a published author and I just took a huge leap of faith by leaving my second husband because I wasn’t in love anymore. My next step at self-preservation is getting off my anti-depressants and working my way to the top of a best sellers list!

So I love crack cocaine because it took me to the dungeon so I could appreciate moving up to the tower of the castle. Without starving in its shadows, I never would have been able to be thankful for any light that crept through between the bars of my dungeon cell. It has taught that if I love myself, everything else will fall where it’s meant to. Not always where and when I want it to, but where it’s meant to.

Jessica O'Gorek Book cover — Click on cover to go to Amazon

JESSICA O’GOREK BIO: I was born in Chesapeake, Virginia in 1979. I was raised within the American Indian religion and was taught great respect for the earth and all its living beings. I grew up admiring my father, Barry Weinstock, as an author. He took me around the country to different places so he could write his Wilderness Survival books. When I was twelve, I started hand writing novels. My first one was two thousand pages.In October of 2012, I lost him to lung cancer. In his hospital bed, I promised him I would be a famous author one day. He looked at me with all of wisdom and sadness and replied, “Honey, I don’t doubt it.”

The dedication in my first published book, Gemini Rising- Ethereal Fury reads, “I did daddy! I finally did it! This one’s for you.”

Please check out Jessica’s website
Twitter: @geminirising1
Facebook

SONIA MARSH SAYS: Jessica, I loved your honesty about the bad stuff you went through in your life. Not many are willing to open up to the extent you did and that’s gutsy. Thank you for sharing a tough part of your life with us, and how you succeeded in getting out of your journey towards hell.

Do you have a “My Gutsy Story®” you’d like to share?

Would you like to submit your “My Gutsy Story®” and get published in our 2nd anthology?

Please see guidelines below and contact Sonia Marsh at: sonia@soniamarsh.com for details.

You can find all the information, and our new sponsors on the “My Gutsy Story®” contest page. (VIDEO) Submission guidelines here

Our December 2013 stories have started with Marian Beaman and Fee Johnson, and Ian Mathie sharing their “My Gutsy Story®.”

Winner of the November “My Gutsy Story®” Ed Robinson

December 12, 2013 by Sonia Marsh 5 Comments

Congratulations to Ed Robinson for winning the November “My Gutsy Story®” contest.
All four authors shared inspiring and motivational stories, and they shall all be included in our 2nd
“My Gutsy Story®” Anthology.

1st Place Ed Robinson.

Ed wrote about how he quit his job to live a simple life on a boat. Ed and his wife Kim have found their paradise.

2nd Place: Lola De Maci.

Lola De Maci wrote a remarkable story about her journey towards getting a Masters Degree in Education, despite fighting breast cancer. She never gave up.

3rd Place: Janet Simcic

Instead of letting cancer stop Janet from doing things with her life, she took a different approach. Janet took on projects she’d put off because she’d been too busy. Her story will energize and motivate you.

4th Place: Boyd Lemon

Boyd has a fascinating story of how he decided to uproot at age sixty-six, after spending his whole life in California, and moved to Boston. After that he decided to move to Paris. He has written several books.

Thank you to all four authors. Your stories are all WINNERS.

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Do you have a “My Gutsy Story®” you’d like to share?

Would you like to submit your “My Gutsy Story®” and get published in our 2nd anthology?

Please see guidelines below and contact Sonia Marsh at: sonia@soniamarsh.com for details.

You can find all the information, and our new sponsors on the “My Gutsy Story®” contest page. (VIDEO) Submission guidelines here

Our December 2013 stories have started with Marian Beaman and Fee Johnson, sharing their “My Gutsy Story®.” Next Monday, December 16th, Ian Mathie will share his “My Gutsy Story®.”

“How Writing Saved My Life” by Felicia Johnson

December 9, 2013 by Sonia Marsh 33 Comments

“The Best Kind of Therapy”

My Gutsy Story® by Felicia Johnson

When I was six years old, my second grade teacher, Ms. Medley, gave me my first writing assignment. The only rule of the assignment was to write one paragraph about something that I wanted. My assignment was titled: I Want A Dog. Paragraph one started with how much I would have liked to have a dog (very much), why (because they are so cute and fluffy), and why I couldn’t have one (our home was too small). Then, when I finished with the reason as to why I couldn’t have a dog, I began a second paragraph. Then a third and a fourth. By the time I ran out of paper, I had written 100 pages.

Monday morning came, and Ms. Medley read a few students’ paragraphs aloud. When she finally got to mine, she held up my notebook to the class and said, “Felicia has written a novel! It is called I Want A Dog.”

After school, Ms. Medley took the time to explain to me what a novel is. She explained that a novel is a prose narrative made up of characters, emotions, and expressions. She told me that the writers who produce these novels are called authors. Ms. Medley said that if I keep writing, filling up a hundred-plus pages of notebooks, then one day I could be an author.

I asked her if I was in trouble for doing the assignment incorrectly. Ms. Medley’s reply was not what I had expected. She said, “Felicia, the assignment was completed correctly as long as it was written by you, and you feel that everything that you want to express is in the story.” I said it was, and she replied, “Okay. You’re a writer. Keep on writing.” I never forgot Ms. Medley’s encouraging words, and I kept writing through my adolescent years.

Growing up, I suffered from child abuse. My parents had me when they were very young, and my mother was single for the majority of my teenage years. As the oldest of my mother’s four children, I took on a lot of responsibility taking care of my brothers and sister. Being forced to grow up fast had its consequences.

When I was fifteen years old, I had a best friend named Holly. Holly was diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder. My friend lost her battle with BPD and committed suicide when she was only fifteen years old.

I developed major depression and I was put on medication and saw a therapist. However, I found that writing was the best therapy. I wrote journals about my memories of Holly, and what it was like growing up. Before I realized it, the journal had turned into a novel of great memories. Coping with depression through writing saved my life.

Years after Holly’s death, I had an idea to write a story about a girl who suffered from depression and BPD, but survived all that she had been through. I started on a story, with Holly in mind and combined a bit of what it was like growing up for me and surviving my own experiences.

I knew that if I had continued down the path of healing, that I would be able to help others who had suffered from child abuse and mental illness through my writing. Therefore, I continued to write and produced my first novel called Her. Her is a story of hope and survival.

Speaking out through writing was the gutsiest thing that I can say I’ve done. My gutsy story is about speaking up and speaking out through my writing. I use writing to help others who have suffered abuse, people who struggle with mental illness and their family, friends and loved ones. I share my story to help others, instead of using it as an excuse to not accomplish my goals and move forward in life.

I’m a youth advocate, mentor, and behavioral health worker. I speak out against child abuse and work to raise awareness about mental illness, particularly personality disorders. As a mentor, I’ve helped youths who are in patient treatment transition to living an independent life outside of the hospital. I’ve helped them prepare for job interviews, pay their own bills, and apply for colleges after finishing high school. I’ve seen many youths who struggle with mental illness transition from being completely dependent on they system, to gaining their independence and living on their own.

I’ll never forget the first time Ms. Medley had told me what an author is. From that moment, I knew that was my calling. Writing is my life because writing saved my life. Writing brings out many relatable emotions and thoughts to share with others. I don’t only write for myself, but I write for others. I try to always write with a purpose. It is as Maya Angelou said, “I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will not forget how you made them feel.” I write to make my readers feel. Writing about the truth and speaking out is the gutsiest thing I’ve done and will continue to do.

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FELICIA JOHNSON is a writer, mental health worker, student, and big sister. She loves ice cream, and seeing her little sister, Laura, smile. She is an active youth mentor at Youth Villages Inner Harbour and article writer for The Personality Disorder Awareness Network (PDAN). Johnson’s debut novel, Her, is a survivor’s tale of endurance that illustrates the complex illness of Borderline Personality Disorder. (http://www.herthebook.com)

Please connect with Fee on Twitter, and on FaceBook.

Her Amazon Link.

Her Goodreads Link.

SONIA MARSH SAYS: “Writing is my life because writing saved my life.” What an amazing story Fee, and I know many writers can relate to your words of writing being their therapy.

I hope others feel encouraged to express themselves and work through their problems through writing. Have you been in touch with Ms. Medley? I hope she sees the positive effect she had on you, and the youth you have mentored.

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