A Dragstrip Dream

I have literally waited my whole life for this! Those of you that know my story know that  in the summer of 1979 I was conceived at the original Dragway 42. By the time I was four years old I was taking my wood blocks and making hot rod shops and drag strips out of them.  I would race my hot wheels cars on the dragstrip, and put them in my wood block garage so I could fix them. Couple years later I started steeling my mom's nail polishes so I could make SS stripes and cool additions onto the cars. Couple more years later and I got to restore my first banana seat bike. My dad taught me how to take it from the ugly and rusted yellow paint, and I prepared it so he could make it hot pink. I was a track baby. Born a gearhead. The one thing I always dreamed about when I was a little girl up at the track, was that one day I would have my very own hot rod shop, and one day my hot rod shop would be seen at the dragstrip. Here I am. ~ Kandi

Your Own Worst Enemy

I could sit here and list a million things that are physically and mentally bothering me today. Trying not to get lost in the pains that I can't describe. As a writer, if I can't be descriptive, it has no meaning, as the reader can't understand and see my angle. I fail.

That's been my biggest hurdle lately, failing. I feel like I have so many visions and dreams, yet I can't get out of this day, this week, this month. I can't see past the next five minutes, and so i find myself clicking keys in front of me just to make sure it passes. I have to keep my mind occupied every mother fucking second today or it becomes my worst enemy.

That's what some can't wrap their head around. How weeks or months can go by with so much joy, happiness, laughter, and a heart filled with love. All the while, one moment, one day, or even a week can be nothing but hurt, fear, pain, sorrow, and the worst for me personally; hopelessness. That's when it all goes dark. When the fears and reality of my current limitations and strength (both physically and emotionally) are at their weakest. It makes it feel and seem like everything is working against me.

I haven't the strength to do my normal job, and no longer the youth the be the pretty and preppy face. Slowly, I am losing my identity. My pin up dresses and pretty shoes dwindle as my bones and joints no longer allow a few hours in them, let alone days on end. I miss it so incredibly much. The dirty auto body tech struggles to simply pull clips with needle nose pliers. I've lost my purpose at the shop. And my RA fog makes it difficult to recall much of anything at times, including years of familiarity.

I'm thirty-seven years old and can't believe I've made it this far with the past medical battles. But for the love of all existence, I can not bare any more physical and emotional pain. I feel as though I'm losing myself in every aspect. Forty never seemed attainable to me, and I've been told multiple times I'd be lucky to make it that long with my history and other long term affects. I used to laugh because I had so much energy and felt on top of the world. I was going to blow their minds and live to be old, ripe, and ornery as fuck! Then days/weeks like today come, when the feeling of having no purpose and extreme physical limitations take over. You don't know how you'll snap back, or if you'll snap back. You just have to hope it passes so the blessings seem stronger than the pain.