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Thursday, August 4, 2016


  As the title suggests this post is about beginnings. I wanted to write about my journey as a writer as well as my daily struggle with living a someone who is not only Bipolar, but also fights a battle to overcome Anxiety/Panic disorder. Which on most days is the biggest obstacle in my life.
  I have also just recently as in the month before last been diagnosed with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. So I thought this would be a good place to write about my beginning journey of learning more about the disease and how to learn to add coping with it to my list of others.
  I guess I should start at the beginning with my self and an introduction. My name is Rita Buster but as you may have already guessed that is not the name I write under. I am forty-nine yrs. young, soon to be the dreaded (at least by me) fifty. I am the oldest of three children and the only girl. My dad worked as a garbageman and my mom when she worked was a CNA(certified nurse assistant).
  I didn't grow up with a lot, it was a struggle for my Dad just to keep a roof over our head and food on the table. He was one of the best men I ever knew and I miss him every day. My Mom preferred to stay at home rather than work, but as you can imagine she didn't get to do that often. All three of us kids learned to live without. To us those rare occasions that Dad had time off were more important than anything you could buy.
  Don't get me wrong, I was like any other kid and would have loved to have had the latest gadget or toy. To not be wearing hand me downs from older cousins and Goodwill. You just learn to not ask for them, because you know the answer is going to be no and sometimes you would get the look of sorrow that they had to say no. 
  We all lived in a small town in West Central Illinois, not far from the state capitol. I actually spent most of my life in that same town, only leaving for good at the age of thirty-eight. It was one of those towns where everybody seemed to know everybody else. And compared to other places I could have been raised, I think it was pretty good.
  My Dad being a garbageman meant most everybody knew him, so it was kind of cool. He was well liked and people were always stopping and asking how the family was. I never knew what it meant for my last name not to be well known in the town I lived until I moved away and no one had ever heard of my family or last name and I kind of went through a shock.
  It was weird but in the same light it was freeing because now I could stand on my own and not be overshadowed by the family or our name. Sorry, you will find I am a bit of a rambler. So up until I left Illinois I was a daughter, a student, and a wife. Those were my identities. 
  Early in my childhood, I learned to be quiet and disappear. That is when I began building the incredible worlds that I write about now. In my future blogs I will go further into detail as to the whys and hows of what led to my quiet moments. 
  I hope that you will come back and check out my next post. I promise it won't be so all over the place. I just wanted to get you started on the glimpses into my world.

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