Nestled in the Ramapo Valley is the small town of Oakland, New Jersey, where I grew up from kindergarten through freshman year of high school. At the tender age of 7 years old, my second grade teacher handed me a marble composition book covered with a cutup brown paper bag and told me to be creative. Granted, every student was given the same instruction, but for me it changed my world. Every thought and feeling I had about life, school and my family, it all ended up in scrawled chicken scratch handwritten on the page. Thus, my passion for written expression began.
Flash-forward another 7 years and the care-free child is gone. In her place is a teenager filled with depression and rage. One month after terrorists attacked our country, leaving a hole in the skyline, I grew up looking at in the distance and watched as the people I loved lived in fear. It was then that we suffered another loss. My father lost his life in a car accident and turned our worlds upside down. My mother, unable to handle the trauma, uprooted our lives and moved my siblings and I across multiple state lines to start fresh, and my journal became my dearest friend. Although time had passed and forced me into maturity, my compulsion to document my life in words still dominated most of my time. Writing saved my life when I no longer believed that life was worth living.
Another 7 years have gone by, the teenage years have thankfully passed, and I am once again facing a tremendous life change. A tiny blue line defies the logic of medical professionals, shocking everyone including me. In February of 2012, chubby cheeks and big beautiful eyes capture my heart completely, with the birth of my little princess Elena. My first week at home with her and my husband, Jason, was everything I could have dreamed of. That’s when my dream slowly began spiraling into a nightmare. After battling a low grade fever for two weeks, along with multiple calls to my doctor who performed the C-Section, I finally demanded further testing when the pain increased to the point that I could no longer walk. Following an ultrasound and a CAT scan, my worst fears were confirmed. I was battling a deep tissue infection and needed to be hospitalized immediately. Within hours of being admitted, I was in surgery fighting for my life. After three surgeries, my heart rate sank to the low 30s and doctors told my husband to prepare for the worst. I wasn’t going down that easy. They gave me a wound vac to speed up the healing process and after two weeks of therapy and IV antibiotics, I started to recover. I was released to go home under the care of a home nurse, but I was bed ridden. I couldn’t work, and I was desperate to find a way to earn an income to contribute to bills.
We had planned for the usual maternity leave of 6 weeks, but we were closing in on 16 weeks without a paycheck from me. A chance encounter with a stranger put me in touch with a woman looking for a writer, and my career as a freelance writer began. I spent the next two years working for that woman, learning from her and increasing my reputation in the freelance world. After another medical scare cost me yet another job, I threw my hands in the air and decided that I was done working in the traditional workforce and began putting all of my energy behind my business, Alyssa CR Writing.
I built a strong team of writers and editors and I continue to maintain fantastic working relationships with my clients, pushing myself every day to continue to learn. I returned to college to pursue a degree in business so that I can continue to further those skills and take my business to the next level. I intend to take the next five years of my life and build my business. I want to have a successful work-from-home environment that will not only allow me to live comfortably, but also provide an income source for other mothers and fathers who want to be home with their children or other individuals who, for one reason or another, are unable to work in the traditional workforce. I plan to purchase a home for my family with office space to be able to meet with any local clients, with enough room to bring in an assistant to handle smaller day to day operations. I also want to volunteer my time at local pregnancy centers to teach young expectant mothers how to earn an income from home so that they can provide for themselves. Every challenge I’ve faced, every trial I’ve been through, it has all led me back to that little girl in a small town classroom, sitting at her desk with crayons in her hand, decorating her first journal. Writing saved my life, writing is my life, and writing is how I can continue to live my life on my terms.
Flash-forward another 7 years and the care-free child is gone. In her place is a teenager filled with depression and rage. One month after terrorists attacked our country, leaving a hole in the skyline, I grew up looking at in the distance and watched as the people I loved lived in fear. It was then that we suffered another loss. My father lost his life in a car accident and turned our worlds upside down. My mother, unable to handle the trauma, uprooted our lives and moved my siblings and I across multiple state lines to start fresh, and my journal became my dearest friend. Although time had passed and forced me into maturity, my compulsion to document my life in words still dominated most of my time. Writing saved my life when I no longer believed that life was worth living.
Another 7 years have gone by, the teenage years have thankfully passed, and I am once again facing a tremendous life change. A tiny blue line defies the logic of medical professionals, shocking everyone including me. In February of 2012, chubby cheeks and big beautiful eyes capture my heart completely, with the birth of my little princess Elena. My first week at home with her and my husband, Jason, was everything I could have dreamed of. That’s when my dream slowly began spiraling into a nightmare. After battling a low grade fever for two weeks, along with multiple calls to my doctor who performed the C-Section, I finally demanded further testing when the pain increased to the point that I could no longer walk. Following an ultrasound and a CAT scan, my worst fears were confirmed. I was battling a deep tissue infection and needed to be hospitalized immediately. Within hours of being admitted, I was in surgery fighting for my life. After three surgeries, my heart rate sank to the low 30s and doctors told my husband to prepare for the worst. I wasn’t going down that easy. They gave me a wound vac to speed up the healing process and after two weeks of therapy and IV antibiotics, I started to recover. I was released to go home under the care of a home nurse, but I was bed ridden. I couldn’t work, and I was desperate to find a way to earn an income to contribute to bills.
We had planned for the usual maternity leave of 6 weeks, but we were closing in on 16 weeks without a paycheck from me. A chance encounter with a stranger put me in touch with a woman looking for a writer, and my career as a freelance writer began. I spent the next two years working for that woman, learning from her and increasing my reputation in the freelance world. After another medical scare cost me yet another job, I threw my hands in the air and decided that I was done working in the traditional workforce and began putting all of my energy behind my business, Alyssa CR Writing.
I built a strong team of writers and editors and I continue to maintain fantastic working relationships with my clients, pushing myself every day to continue to learn. I returned to college to pursue a degree in business so that I can continue to further those skills and take my business to the next level. I intend to take the next five years of my life and build my business. I want to have a successful work-from-home environment that will not only allow me to live comfortably, but also provide an income source for other mothers and fathers who want to be home with their children or other individuals who, for one reason or another, are unable to work in the traditional workforce. I plan to purchase a home for my family with office space to be able to meet with any local clients, with enough room to bring in an assistant to handle smaller day to day operations. I also want to volunteer my time at local pregnancy centers to teach young expectant mothers how to earn an income from home so that they can provide for themselves. Every challenge I’ve faced, every trial I’ve been through, it has all led me back to that little girl in a small town classroom, sitting at her desk with crayons in her hand, decorating her first journal. Writing saved my life, writing is my life, and writing is how I can continue to live my life on my terms.