Give it a Name, Who's to Blame? I've Got No Shame!

Expectations based on warped ideas of "the norm"
Never account for the ashes from which I was born.

There's a cloud of destruction, for miles behind

Masquing every indication of an unsound mind.

Your hope is that I bridge this ridiculous gap
In a union absent of foundation, liable to snap

A pawn, a novelty, a doll, an excuse
Used to continue this ugly cycle of abuse

You mixed to produce life and tossed it into your clutter
Decades passed, destiny delivered me up out from the gutter

Disqualified, discounted, discontent, and diseased
I was the one who was crazy, it set YOUR mind at ease.

My instinct is what cautioned me from following your lead
Your self centered motives came before my emotional needs

Finger pointing at each other was your one claim to fame
Passing the buck, playing dumb, always pushing off the blame

I learned to adapt, from manipulation, evolved a fine art
To get what I want was habitual, I had a talent for it, I was smart

But you didn't even know me, your own flesh and blood
Busy chasing your own demons, pushing me down in the mud

The hurt turned to hate, the sadness to rage, and the lonely became lost
"THE ICK", that black hole in my soul proved to be the highest cost

Fighting down through the sordid dimensions of hell
I tapped out, had enough, and the ref rang the bell

Healing began when I let go of the blame
Disallowed your shame,
and could utter your NAME (again) and not shed a tear.

Identity is something I never learned,
I must have missed that class, unconcerned

Defiance was just a defensive support,
Allowing the distance required to abort, from this family facade, this delusional game
I wanted out, to be free, and to change my tainted name.

I worked hard, and I cried,
confessed wherever I had lied
I admitted things I thought I'd take to the grave
Later to find it was what made me a slave

I worked with others, I gave back to the group
Each day brought me toward the center of the loop
"Stay on the edge and you may fall out"
Cautioned my sisters who knew what it was all about

I'm grateful today for the new life which I've built
free from bondage of remorse, of shame, and of guilt

I feel regular feelings, and live a good life
I'll never be perfect, there will always be strife
If I choose to engage, mindful is the way,
My tongue is still sharp, I live just for today.

There is a path before me, it's not always clear
What I let get in front of me begins with fear.

Others who share experience give me strength to cope
We all struggle with it too, and that brings ME hope
When we can't find it within us, faith appears to be gone
Yet it sorts itself out, and there is a new dawn

Buckle up, hang on tight, and just come along!

Part of a letter to my father

I informed my father of my recent stay at a local psychiatric hospital. I'd been depressed, isolating, and cutting... two of my friends had intervened and I was hospitalized. He wrote back and admitted to some very similar feelings and thoughts that he has struggled with all his life, this was his 63rd birthday, and the first time that we had achieved such a meaningful and personal level of conversation, part of my response was this:

As for psycho-pharmacology... I won't take meds. 

After the last medical horror show I went through, I can't justify putting man-made chemicals into my bloodstream any more. I was doing very well maintaining a healthy medium with increased stability between highs and lows for a significant period of time when placing Omega 3's, B-Complex vitamins, going organic at times, and avoiding fast food, processed foods, and preservatives. I've researched it and worked with holistic nutritionists in the past and found that it CAN work for ME.

More silently I will add, I am very much anti-government, anti-big-pharma, and anti-religion, let the record reflect that I am also anti-Alex Jones and his crazy cohorts... I simply won't be a slave to anyone's agendas real or fantasized. I have high anxiety around fanatical groups, sometimes anxiety is our minds way of saying, "Get the hell away from this"... I've come to believe only about half of what I see and none of what I hear until I've proven it to myself... and you know it's true about me, I'll burn my hand on the same hot stove 365 ways until I either admit defeat or find the my own way in (never the easier, softer way).

Regarding your admission of your own tormented mind, that comforts me quite a bit. We all know my mother would never admit to "feeling" anything that would prevent her from keeping up appearances. What you've shared with me helps, primarily I can't really feel so all alone in this... and like you, it's often that I do. Even when I meet another person who feels like I do, or is wired like me, it's hard to set appropriate boundaries or establish roles in my life or theirs.   Did you know??? >> Some studies have shown that when adults whose IQ's differ by more than 10 points are in a close working environment, relationship, or cohabitation: One or both may exhibit anxiety or discomfort, one or both may feel disconnected or out of place, at times they may even become hostile toward one another. I can absolutely identify with this, (especially when the thought is that I am surrounded by idiots) however this information doesn't always lead me to healthy behavior, as it is typical of me to believe that I'm the superior brain... At that point (if I'm not mindful), I will find myself falling down a rabbit hole of less than ideal behaviors and/or attitudes such as: manipulation, extortion, egomania, delusions of grandeur, or just allow me to come off as a pretentious douche that nobody wants to be around. Uncle Rick made mention of Mimi teaching him not to take himself too seriously. I think that this is the message that I needed to hear, I don't know about you, but I sure can be INTENSE at times ('specially when I think I'm wicked smaht).

I've determined that simple words like "SHOULD" cause me more harm than good when reflecting back on my own choices or actions. "I should know better, I should have done this or I shouldn't have done that". Facts are facts, done is done, time moves forward and nothing can be UNdone. So what I can take away from it and apply to make even the smallest change in my life TODAY is what separates me from the clinically or criminally INSANE. The word is also problematic when dealing with others. "She should know better, she should have done this, she should do that"... Who the hell am I to comment on what anyone else should or shouldn't do, I can barely manage my own life, there is no rule book, what makes me think I've got all the answers to making life "right"...? I need to focus on keeping my own side of the street clean and forget finding fault in everyone else. I've got a lifetime of shortcomings to work on. Amazingly enough, this has allowed me to find forgiveness and to let go of resentment toward others AND sometimes even myself. However my feelings of failure and worthlessness, can be overwhelming and paralyzing, this is the stuff that feeds my isolation and self soothing, it's as if my mind is holding me captive on the inside and torturing me on the outside.

That's the shit that they diagnose as, "BPD" Borderline Personality Disorder (which is treatable without medication) and that's truly in my opinion the issue at the core of my Bipolar and other "psychiatric disorders".

So as you can see, I'm kind of bright, even though I deliberately used and abused street drugs as a way to burn out my brain so that I could be just like everyone else. I write... A LOT... it's my healthiest outlet (except when I don't sleep for days because the words flow from my brain to my fingertips like they are right now).

You know the field or psychology, Dad. Removing your personal connection to me from your mind entirely, you can't actually say that there is something "seriously wrong" with the things I've shared above, or the way that I'm able to articulate or present myself, can you?

Which is precisely the reason I've been brushed aside and overlooked.

However...

When all of the above exists, I've isolated from the outside world so long I can't open my door or answer my phone, I'm wavering in and out of consciousness while causing myself physical harm, dismissing or disengaging myself from some or all of my personal responsibilities for extended periods of time, or even going to extraordinary lengths to secretly cause harm to an unsuspecting victim while making them believe that I am their only trusted friend twisting their perception and turning them against their faith, families, or employers... The diagnosis becomes far different and more serious, doesn't it?

How hard is it to diagnose a person who has "never been caught" or never acted on outrageous impulses as Passive Aggressive, or with Antisocial Personality Disorder?

I've developed this obsession with finding patterns. For the purpose of prevention, my entire manner of being has changed from reactive to proactive and I believe that it is a result of my need to be well and to feel safe.

I desperately needed to come forward and seek help because [upon admitting the truth about events from my past to myself, coming to understand some of the "why's" around my preferences and tendencies throughout all of my diverse social circles, reflecting honestly on my behavior] I began to identify patterns, I began recognizing what I may be capable of, I began to FEAR what might happen if I took my emotional health for granted... Like an out of shape heart patient deciding to train for a 5k race, I suddenly became invested in my own emotional fitness.

So while the past 16 weeks of my life seem to have manifested as this "Perfect Storm" of events... All hope is not lost. I'm where I belong, and I will remind myself at the times that I feel I am smarter than the professionals, it's only because I've lived with the shit they read about in text books and I've managed to locate the other side, and now I need to rely on their outside knowledge and experience as I would an extended hand to help to pull me through.

Something tells me this is the beginning of a new leg in my journey. One that I'm becoming ready to face.

Words Unspoken, Mimi's Final Days...

It would appear as though we are nearing the final days of my Grandmother's brave exodus from this world. She has been in hospice care for nearly 5 months, the last of which marked her rapid decline and stoked the merciless disposition of the cancer which continues to vitiate her system.

I can only hope to have inherited the slightest degree of her fortitude moving forward to face my own decisions and reality. Completely conscious and aware of the outcome that lays ahead, she has never complained. I cannot imagine how I would accept the rapacious behavior of anything so focused on taking my life (without something to help me escape). Yet since the beginning, she has refused all pain medication (other than Tylenol). As her body begins to shut down, she clings onto whatever is left, afraid let go before it's time.

Let go when you're ready, Mimi. My wish is that there is peace in your heart. My hope is that the memories you take with you of the time you spent with me, are as wonderful as the memories that I will always cherish of the time that I spent with you.

18 and Straight-Edge, STILL My Daughter

The more things clear up for me, the sharper the reality becomes. I am a product of two people who have always had their own internal, personal, or even psychological issues and both continually make the same poor choices, and refuse to acknowledge that they "own" even a fraction of accountability for the things that happen in their lives as a result.

That is OK, I have no control over them, or how they wish to live their lives, and I made one poor choice in leaving my daughter with one of these people when I was actively abusing drugs and couldn't take care of her myself. Sort of a lesser of two evils decision, there really wasn't a better one in hindsight. So for the past 6 years while I've been soul searching and working through 12 step programs to make a serious effort to improve my thinking on a daily basis, my child has been living in the very toxicity which I could not bear. I did make room for my daughter to come and live with me, repeatedly extended the offer over the past 4 years and finally stopped asking. She knows that she wouldn't be allowed to live the way she does where she is. (Up all night on the computer or playing video games, sleeping all day, no job, poor hygiene, no structure, no therapy, no school). I can't control how a teenager behaves, but I can lay down the boundaries of what I am willing to tolerate in my own home.

Needless to say because my child has not lived with me for several years and is now 18, she's not really interested in the whole mother daughter relationship. I have talked with her about drugs, about alcohol, about sex, about peer pressure, about anger and rage, she views everything as a lecture, and responds with "I know, Mom". She won't talk about anything but girl gossip and teen-aged drama, I don't  know what to give her on birthdays and holidays, because she is so over-indulged to begin with. She's over 300 pounds, her inevitable addiction has manifested itself in food, although she denies it. I don't know how to help her and suddenly it becomes clear that she doesn't WANT my help. I can't be the one who helps her, I get that, but I am the only one trying. In fact, I am the only person in my family working on improving my life, and that makes me the enemy.

My daughter, views me as an asshole for having not pulled my head out of my ass 12 years before so that I could have been the mother she imagines I would be. My mother thinks that insanity is a choice and blames my father's side of the family for the choices I made which "made [me] crazy". Both are living in the past. I made my amends, and continue to, I follow through by being available and reliable and keeping my promises, my temper improved, although there were many days when I had to cut my visit short, as my bullshit meter was in the red and I was about to blow a gasket.

Which brings us to yesterday. Thanksgiving Saturday with my mother and daughter, out to lunch and to a movie... We get to the restaurant and my anorexic mother says she doesn't want to eat, but orders a meal anyway so that my food addicted daughter can have two entrees. When I make a comment about it, my daughter decides she doesn't want anything at all. The tension begins, there is a disturbance in the force, and I am already the bad guy for having pointed out the obvious. Then we go to the movie, walking back to the car, it is COLD out, my daughter is dressed for early fall not 30 degree weather, starts complaining about the temperature. I point out that she's not dressed for the weather, she argues that her winter coat is no warmer... Naturally, I say, do you need a new winter coat? She says "No, I hate the cold weather" (she has never lived in or even visited ANY other climate). My response is, "OK then, get a job and move out to a warmer part of the world" She SNAPS before I know it she's gone, now my mother and I are sitting in the car while she has her tantrum somewhere outside in this cold which she cannot handle... 30 minutes go by and she finally gets in the car, I ask her why she took off, especially if she is "so cold" she flips out again, almost psychotically, screaming at the top of her lungs and making little to no sense.

The general barrage of fuck you's and I hate you's were followed up by, "You were never there" and "you don't even care" as it turns out, the trigger phrase that had set her in motion was the "get a job" part. "I've been trying so hard to get a job, Mom, you don't even know." A better parent may have allowed this to end right then, however my parents did me a dis-service by not calling me on my lies and bullshit. Earlier in the week and again in the day, I had asked my daughter if she had tried on ANY of the $200.00 worth of clothes that I had bought her 5 weeks prior, "not yet" was the response. Considering those clothes were "help find and secure a job" clothes... Considering every one of her "posts" on social media sites was something about video games or horror movies, and had been time stamped all throughout the hours of the night when most people sleep, and my mother had been complaining to me that she sleeps all damn day long when most people job hunt, I called her out. I threw the bullshit flag, without a notion of my how my actions would be received, and it was ugly.

Although emotionally hung over, I do not regret what I did. I placed the accountability back on my 18 year old, because my mother never did (on either of us). Of course blame has been passed through the family several times, not the same, and not something that I have time for. My daughter has adapted her skills to be in shape for the blame game and this has become very convenient for her. I made it very clear that I wouldn't allow her to lie to herself in my presence. We all make our choices, and we are not victims of the consequences when we make one that doesn't turn out the way we WANT it to. Since life is such a learning experience, I am grateful today for the consequences of my choices, some are a jagged pill to swallow, but all are a direct result of the way I choose to make decisions.

My mother and daughter may never change, what changed yesterday was my participation in their game. I do not have to go to every fight I am invited to. I've changed and I will continue to change, I am a work in progress and I do not do everything right. However, I crawl beneath no one, and owe no more apologies to this family. My amends are continued as I live and continue to grow and continue to learn from the errors of my ways, like any adult is meant to do. I hate the thought that my daughter is inevitably going to have to suffer through some of the most difficult times of her life, almost needlessly until she finds that she's lying to herself and that blame doesn't matter. Other people's behavior doesn't matter, as it is uncontrollable, that all she can control are her own actions and reactions to her choices and consequences. However what she finds along the way is part of her journey, not mine, and I refuse to be abused any longer.

I am NOT OK

I am not strong, so don't lean on me.

I am not smart, you don't want to hear what I think.

I am not sane, stay away! Why are you drawn to me?

Keeping up appearances is about the worst habit I could have picked up along the way. I have perfected the art of creating and presenting a false persona, one far different from what I am or how I feel under my skin. My insides do NOT match my outsides. Like an actor on a stage, I portray a likable and friendly, fun-loving, smart, strong, and well rounded individual. Internally I am antisocial, sad, angry, I spend a great deal of time in the clutches of an agonizing depression. It is like a bad neighborhood that you wouldn't want to be in alone. My gut tells me that these feelings have roots in living this lie which may not be unlike living a double life. A life and a lie which I don't believe I can continue to carry on. 

That is why I started this blog, and it is virtually unknown to people who think they really KNOW me. I want my fresh start on an empty canvas, a clean slate so to speak. I want to be me, without walls, with no aggressive defenses, and no bullshit. I want to make true friends based on who I am inside and that I am working to help myself heal from there, rather than continuously trying to put on a show. Such honesty would be sure to render me powerless over the cruel and calculated predator known as the human animal.

Trust does not come easy, as I feel as though I am vulnerable to exploitation if I am to allow an open view into who I really am. This may be why I am prone to abuse. I generally find the good in all people and become weakened as I listen to their sad, sorry, stories, I make convenient and well packaged excuses for everybody's shit-bag behavior. I put myself in danger by doing so and I continue to allow it and defend it and excuse it over and over and over until it hits a nerve. Then, being the extremist that I am, I turn to drop the motherfucker in the most vicious and dramatic reactionary style that any retaliatory attack could be. Unacceptable behavior needs to be nixed immediately, not tolerated until it reaches a breaking point.

Knowing this, one may presume, is instrumental in getting a handle on it... If only I knew how to view things for what they are as they are happening. I  sometimes feel that I am at an extreme just before I hit a wall and dramatically, I turn radically into the opposite extreme. So when dealing with people and the way I cling to the good and bypass the bad... In that exact moment of discovery, after extracting all possible inner goodness real or imaginary, the only alternative that my mind can see happens in the immediate and turns to complete suspicion and skepticism. Sniff out the conspiracy and go to any lengths to prove that there is one in play. 

I go through phases where I will pass this negative judgment upon any and all who I encounter. Therefor the slightest thing set's my neurosis of intolerance in motion. (As a post-conscious observation... especially relevant in the event of my own misunderstanding). If it defies logic, or neglects to make practical sense in my thought process, my tendency is to adamantly reject it, aborting all other protocols, casting it out as alien, and publicly voicing my displeasure. My sharp wit morphs to a razor tongue which aids in the personal dissection of  character. I'm on auto-pilot, spinning beyond my own control, while systematically, my cyclonic behavior constructs the soapbox that I stand upon while I emotionally execute my newly manufactured enemy.

What has seeded such extremes of passive and aggressive anger inside of me? Why do I continue to allow myself to become enraged when the slightest issue arises? Human beings aren't perfect, we ALL make mistakes, we ALL have issues around admitting we are making them, don't we? Why do I feel in the deepest point of my heart, that I have a purpose on this earth? When will it be revealed? Which way will I turn? Who am I supposed to help? I can't understand this fire and ice, bi-polar, good vs. evil, human oxymoron, love me or fucking kill me... chemical conundrum which drives me and tears me apart from the inside! 

Sometimes I think I can completely  accept all of this. In actuality, it is but a momentary thought that allows me to believe any of this it is within the limits of  my own comprehension. I am told to let it be as it is, but I cannot. At my core I'm a fixer, a problem solver, a puzzle finisher, and I won't stop until I've connected the dots. At this moment, I am in fear I may be losing my grip, I am shredded inside, the pain, it burns deep today, and I fear that I may be falling apart completely.

If I love you will you love me back?

I have spent my life trying to make the people in it happy. When I was 6 years old, I came home from school to find my father sobbing on his bed, I asked him what was the matter... He told me that he wanted to blow his fucking brains out. A co-dependent, caretaker was born. A year later I would find the rejection and disappointment that comes with seeking the approval of others, just too much to bear, and I made my first attempt at suicide. My MOTHER's response: "We don't talk about these things... Don't you dare bring shame to my family... What will people think? I won't be able to show my face in church if you don't start acting right... What's wrong with you? People are going to think you're a crazy person". 

Sometime around 9 years old I discovered the art of cutting. Come to think of it, this may ave started with picking Mosquito bites, I remember those being problematic when I was young. I cut my thighs, my arms, my stomach, my hands, even my face I carved words into my arms and the words "fat bitch" into my belly, backwards so that when I looked in the mirror I could read it. In the beginning, it was simply because physical pain felt better than emotional pain. Toward the end, I was doing it because I hated myself and I "deserved" the pain. Around 11 or 12 I had sex, with a boy my age, it didn't do anything for me, it would be years before that was done properly and became an unhealthy addiction of it's own. Home made and underground tattoos took the place of cutting temporarily, while Cocaine on the other hand, provided me with EXACTLY the relief I was seeking. One small line and within an instant I saw pure anarchy, and felt my body release the pressure of fear, doubt, shame, insecurity, and rage as fast as an untied balloon being let go. I loved it, I sensed mayhem, I sensed evil, I sensed depravity, and I was overcome by the need to chase it all. Side effects of my regular use of stimulants were: increased focus, weight loss, decreased appetite, loss of moral or spiritual values, increased interest in crime, mood swings, increased irritability, emotional instability, propensity for violence, increased rage, decreased artistic creativity, developed a mastery in the skill of manipulation and the art of lying. Now my parents would not trust me, they would not speak to me, they would not want me to be a part of their lives at all. I felt rejected by my own family, misunderstood, and cast out. 

All of my choices were unhealthy, and stemmed from the original Daddy issues... I needed to prove myself to men, I needed approval, I needed validation. I did EVERYTHING I could to feel appreciated, loved, complimented. I believed all I had to do was love. If I loved my Dad, he wouldn't blow his brains out. I've been in ALL of my former relationships thinking, "if I just love him right he won't drink so much" or "if I can prove how much I love him, he won't be so angry" or "if I love him the way he needs to be loved, he won't hit me" or "if I love him enough, he'll never cheat on me"... Yet my track record will show, I've been cheated on, beaten on, screamed at, and I've carried the drunk into the house at night. So for the sake of my own mental and or emotional health, I needed to change my behavior around men.

I'm not a victim of anyone else's behavior. My own poor choices have been the catalyst behind the pain, chaos, and drama in my life. I've been a willing participant in my sordid past with relationships. hat is the pattern I need to break for myself. It appears that I am attracted to the wounded ones... never the actual needy ones, but the scared and defensive, and often dangerous ones. Even today, while working on real recovery, I am able to see that I STILL make these foolish choices. I am now realizing that my own father will never give me an ounce of what I thought I needed from him. I recently stopped chasing him for approval, I stopped seeking validation. I turned and faced him, at almost 40 yrs old, and I demanded his respect. He froze, he laughed, he agreed and I was given validation, I felt empowered and emancipated at the same time. 

Perhaps few people identify with this as described. Far fewer, I bet can capture the elation of emotional growth.

What have I become?

I was a head strong little girl, much to the dismay of my parents. I never took no for an answer, I rarely did as I was told, I refused to accept fact as fact, I wanted to be just like the people who proved the world wasn't flat. I hated myself yet I held myself at such high regard that I thought the grown ups around me were idiots. This was the birth of the human oxymoron.

Running was what I did whenever I felt the chains of society bind me. I refused to be confined or enslaved, I wanted to explore, I wanted to discover, I wanted to uncover, I wanted to be recognized for a groundbreaking historical find. I've not given up this quest!

As I got older I was impossible to tame, I played sports and was always arguing rules and semantics and never taking any answer as the right one. My teachers and coaches were at a loss. Parents wouldn't let their kids play with me. I was angry, and defiant. I ate what I wanted, slept when I wanted, drank, did drugs, had sex, fought, stole, ran away, worked, went to school, lived away from home, went to college, worked, and fell apart over and over and over again. I went to prison at 19 years old. I got out and more discreet about my beliefs, I kept my opinions to myself and my close friends, I stopped trying to be so extreme with my reckless behavior, I gave up select drugs, which I was sure were the cause of my problems. Inevitably, I was back to the old me in no time.

I had a kid at 21, I was a complete train wreck, I defiantly took her without help gave her a home. I subjected that child to the most depraved and unhealthy moments in my life. I settled for less than what I truly deserved, and I got exactly what I had coming to me. When my daughter turned 7, I dropped her off at my mother's house and never returned for her. This was the moment that I became free to live the way my addiction wanted me to live. I had no morals, no spiritual values, not a lick of common sense, no affinity, no allegiance to anyone or anything but cocaine, my one and only true love.

Cocaine called all the shots, for the next 5 years. Every breath I took was around using or obtaining it. It never rejected me, never neglected me, never hurt me, never promised me anything, it was always there when I needed it most, it always made me feel better, I was popular because I always had it, I wasn't a criminal, I was a rock star, I wasn't hiding, I was advertising, I wasn't lonely, everybody loved me.

Until it stopped working. Nobody trusted me, I was alone, isolated, hiding, paranoid, miserable, full of guilt, shame, remorse, pain, anger, and rejection. I wanted to end my days on this planet, the pain was great enough for me to try one last time to check out for good. I did it, I definitely did it, but nothing happened, my heart should have exploded, it should have stopped, I should have dropped to the floor, I should have had a seizure, a stroke, a heart attack, something. Nothing fucking happened.

The realization that my work here was not yet complete gave me one option, to get help, and there was no better time than the present. My mission was simple, "How the Hell do I exist in society without putting poison in my body? How do I learn to stop fighting everything so furiously?" That's all I wanted, it's all I needed. It's coming true, the answers are being revealed, more and more each day.

It's now 6 years later and so much has changed. So much remains the same as well...

I am defiant, I am full of self will, yet I am humbled, I am less reactive. I want to allow someone into my life today, I'm ready to relinquish some of the power and share it with another human being, a person who is kind and loving, someone whose strengths fill in my weakness and vice versa.

Well, well, not so "well"

I am the High Priestess of Humility, Allow me to lead you into a world of serenity and peaceful goodness... My wisdom comes from experience and I have proven to be an expert on everything that you can present to me. If you have any doubts, that's normal, your sick mind is still twisted from your inflated ego, which is all based on fear, that's OK, come along anyway, don't be afraid, TRUST ME, I'll help guide you, have no worries, for I have all of the answers you seek. You are exactly where you are supposed to be, so long as you NEVER disagree!

Who's YOUR Daddy?

I don't have ANY concept of "God" in a traditional sense, I was raised strict Catholic, I never felt comfortable with those teachings which were force fed to me for so long. What I was left with, was only my twisted perception, a rather ugly impression had been branded into my defiant mind as to WHO this God character was supposed to be. 

Today, after some fearless, soul searching I've begun to break free and identify for myself that "God" is merely a word, apparently a universal word symbolizing a creator. I cannot personify such a concept, as many seem to be able to do without a second thought. 

To satisfy my own visions, I considered the concept of a "Higher Power". For this no personification of "God" is possible. I simply imagine the forces of nature. I know that if I were to muster up all of my human power and call upon a thousand friends, I would still fail miserably in trying to create or prevent a tsunami, tornado, earthquake, volcano, hurricane, flood, mudslide, avalanche, sinkhole, blizzard, heatwave, drought, or any combination. I see no human power responsible for the sun rising or setting, the seasons from changing, or any of the daily life in nature that flows all around me. Beyond that, I have no need to understand YOUR concept of a "Higher Power" or "God" or a "Creator". Simply stated, everything after respect and kindness is inconsequential to me. Life will continue to go on whether I am awake or asleep, dead or alive, engaged in my personal recovery or not.

As for prayer... I view prayer as the power of positive thought, accepting the fact that this word, "God" symbolizes so many things to so many people, requires a great deal of humility. I will never be able to comprehend such complexities as to how it all came about, the planets, the universe, space, and the history of man and mankind. I can see for myself in my own life that positive thought supports positive actions which in turn yield positive results, maybe not immediately, in the manner I WANT everything, but always in the long run. 

My own personal choice to research ANCIENT teachings from cultures that have proven to have a far healthier lifestyle than mine (such as Hinduism, Tibetan Buddhism, and Taoism) have helped me choose the principles of living a spirituality centered life based on kindness and personal growth. When there is serenity and peace at the core of my being, I make healthier decisions. I have a value system of good morals and peace of mind.

Criticism Mirrors Back to the Critic

I did not know what it was with me, for the past few days I felt angry toward a few newcomers that didn't act as though they were willing to go to any lengths to stay sober. I wanted to cut them out of my life completely because of how irritable and frustrated I had become around them.
I was sure it couldn't be ME... If it was, I justified it as having hit my breaking point with my own codependency issues and shouldn't talk to so many newcomers.

I distanced myself and found no reduction in the level of disgust that was brewing inside of me, I realized this was in fact MY issue, and I had inwardly become a judgmental, critical, bitch.
I was talking about these people to others, I was negative, and I assassinated their character. That is NOT me, I became more angry, that's just not my style, I am a better person than that. These people viewed me as a friend, a confidant, a mentor.

The feeling in my gut was clammy and cold, I was so full of shame, I couldn't believe that I could have allowed myself to fall back into such horrible habits. I was sick to my stomach for what I had become, I did not sleep that night, the next morning I woke up suicidal and depressed, angry with myself about not being able to identify the why and carrying the guilt of my actions. I went to my regular meeting, we read Step 1. People with time began to share, "not wanting to forget where they came from" and "we are here for the newcomer, we've been where they are".

I crumbled, broke out into tears, not only was I reminded of just how sick I once was, but awakened to how sick I still am. A newcomer was sitting next to me, she wrapped her arms around me, put her hand on my head like a mother to a child and said, "You are going to be alright". I tried to pull away, she said, "Be still, feel your feelings, this is what you have taught me, just breathe and stay in the moment... FEEL, DEAL, HEAL".

I was as grateful as I could have been. She wasn't one of the newcomers that I felt frustrated about, but she spoke for all of them in that moment. Those words that she whispered in my ear were not original, they were not MY words, they were the words of those who came before me, those who helped me when I was new and taught me how to be of service to others, they didn't judge me, they loved me when I did not have the ability to love myself.

Once I had a chance to reflect, I realized that I was not only angry with people for doing exactly what I had done in the past, but I was jealous of the fact that they were doing it. Once more, I was watching people engage in behaviors that weren't conducive to their recovery, and I found that I too, was engaging in those VERY SAME behaviors myself.

During this epiphany, I heard a man say, "This is the only disease you'll have that will TELL you that you don't have it!"

I'm an addict in recovery today. I have no excuses to offer, simply amends to make, apologies for those who saw the evil and negativity of my disease rear it's ugly head, and radical changes need take place in my behavior, my attitudes, and my spiritual health.

Reflecting Back Brings Gratitude.

In the first year, I was out of my mind, I was all over the place, I was desperate to feel better, it's all a blur to try to recall today, but there are a few who can tell me stories... Oh boy, can they ever!

The second year was better, I was able to maintain, I regained all I had lost, materially. I forced myself to be "sane" among my peers outside of my program. It worked, or people learned to embrace my insanity, not sure, but I made it through. I became ill and was out of work for 3 months, I had several surgeries, and came through with no family, few friends, and never fully recovered physically. Recovery from my addiction took a back seat to my health.

The third year into the forth life evolved, my ego blew up with financial success. In my eyes, all was perfect, I was happy and all I needed was someone to share it with... I found a sick relationship that was a horrible relapse for lack of a better description. All of my old behaviors and shortcomings rose above my financial status, and in no time, I was homicidal, suicidal, and defeated. It is a miracle I did not pick up, as I had almost no recovery in my life at that time.

I returned to meetings, dug out the books, the phone numbers, got right back into the middle of the program. I became ill again, shortly thereafter. Surgeries were needed, I procrastinated as my career and recovery was more important than my health, my plate was full, and I was hesitant to trust the doctors. Eventually, it became medically necessary to operate. I lost my job and health insurance before it could happen, was ill which deemed me unable to receive unemployment compensation at first. I was forced to leave a beautiful home and move to a state where there would be help available to me. Back home where I got sober in the first place, back to where it all started, and although my health issues are compounding, although I haven't be able to receive all of the resources I need, I am getting well in my recovery again, because I did NOT pick up in times of adversity, I did NOT pick up in times of crisis, depression, rage, excitement, or celebration.

In my fifth year, I am clearing up enough to recognize when I am going back to the hot stove again and again, repeating the old behaviors, the insanity. I recognize, however still a defiant addict, I am not always willing to stop, even when there is great pain. I never saw my behavior before, it's sick, and I see it now and THAT is progress. I am not riding ever bus til the wheels fall off today, I am not showing up to every fight I am invited to. I have a choice today, I can fall victim to my disease or I can employ the tools and the gifts given to have a defense. I have let go of some sinking (friend) ships, I have opened my heart and allowed myself to TRUST those who have been conducive to my recovery. I am working on me, unselfishly, and well deserved. My plate is full again, this time it's full of recovery, and I love my life.

Friends with Benefits?

Can we really have this sort of relationship, and not have feelings for one another?

I don't think so, personally. 

Human beings are full of fear, doubt, and insecurity.

Someone almost always inevitably gets hurt. 

Most women and many men just don't have the ability to fuck without feelings.

Let's say we can't have what we want with who we want, but we can have a small piece of it.

Do we settle for less and take it? Almost always we do and we ride the bus til the wheels fall off. 

Believe me, they DO fall off and the odds are stacked way against us. 

If we are our first choice's second choice we are doomed from the start.

Now let's say you meet someone, you become friends, agree that no relationship is to be established but sex is alright. You are free to see other people...

It's a short matter of time before jealousy, anger, insecurity enter the situation.

A dating scenario breaks off and the sex remains, this almost always leads to some sort of drama.

A situation agreed upon by consenting adults as being solely for friendship and sex, still becomes a matter where at least one participant develops feelings for the other and the hurt feelings begin.

Imagine a basic outline of your needs from a FWB.

Now imagine their outline of needs from you. 

In a perfect world when layered over light, the two images align on several key points if not all and you both live happily ever after. There is no need to be friends with benefits, after all, as the perfect couple has emerged.

Life isn't perfect, and we seem to want insurance, a feeling of security in the form of guarantees that don't exist.

Friends with Benefits is a fear-based appeal for those who aren't ready to let go of one piece of their life to pursue a new or unknown one. 

Loving, Living, Letting Go

I have been in love ONE TIME, with ONE MAN. Yet we were never together.
I wanted to be in the presence of this man since as far back as I can remember knowing him.
He was as individual as I ever thought I was at that time. Mysterious in ways that intrigued me.
I wanted desperately for him to talk to me, eventually he did and we became the closest of friends.
I never had the nerve to say what I was feeling, yet I was content in being there in whatever it was.
I felt SAFE in his arms, (no one had I TRUSTED before). I chased these feelings like a drug for 25 years.
I loved this man and wanted him to love me back. I couldn't speak of it, I was terrified, I couldn't face rejection, and I was sure he had better prospects. I remained paralyzed in that fear for a lifetime.
I settled for less, repeatedly.  No man was ever as kind, as gentle, as honest, as real, as intelligent, or as responsible as he was.
Today he is sick, suffering from the depression, anger, and antisocial issues that this disease provides.
I see him and my heart hurts, it angers me to see THE man who ALWAYS helped me make the right decisions, not be available to himself for the same advice. I want to SAVE him, I want to FIX him. I want to cry out to him, tell him I love him, and give him a reason to want to get better.
He was my first love, he was my best friend, and I felt that he was my soul mate. His soul is like a message in a bottle, floating in a sea of alcohol and barely a fleeting thought to him right now. I loved this man with the patience and conviction that a wife would have had.
Today I can see that we did share something special, I did fit in with him, we were two cut from the same cloth, birds of a feather, two sickies that would have never made a wellie.
Today, my love for him is the love that I have of a sick and suffering alcoholic. I will never forget how much he means to me and I will pray to God that he finds his way to recovery.

Into Pain

Why is it that no matter how much time passes, and no matter how much better your life can get, there's always that one, the one you lost, no matter what the reason, all be it unexpectedly, with no closure, you could harbor years of anger and even hate to help you feel less jilted or hurt... Suddenly just when the pain is nearly forgotten, life is on track, you are succeeding in your field, your lives paths have once again crossed... POW, like lightning, you are jolted off course and thrown for a loop......? WHY? 

Why do we always try to test fate, try to figure out the purpose for everything, as if we can crack some secret code to life? Trying to answer for the "what if's" and the "why's" Why do we think everything happens for a reason? Is that a sign of hope or faith? What if it is? How do we know when it's FALSE hope? What if it's not and we are just fucking things up? With so many choices, how do we know where to rest our faith? If everything is just a test, when do we start living and actually enjoying life? Where is the balance between good and evil, and why am I always spinning and teetering on what I can only presume is the narrowest thread of the grey area? 

Do I instinctively like pain? Do certain people just have a certain magnetism for each other? Is there really a higher power controlling all this shit? I know if I had some little civilization that I could control and arrange, my sick mind would rule, I would be fucking with people constantly! 

I believe I just answered all of my own questions... Now, since I going to constantly be tested like this, should I finally abandon all the "sick", sadistic thoughts in my head, surrender, conform, and just follow the rest of the herd?? I guess it's my destiny to be frustrated and laugh in the face of all of it, as I will NEVER be a sheep.

Evil Took My Baby

Somehow, some way 
given the dangerous games I played.. 
I am able to fight from morning to night, 
with hope that I can actually get it right. 
The sickness inside is a curse of the fam, 
it's taken me off to the world of the damned. 
I've seen hell, been there, lived it! 
Today I stay within my limits... 

Seeing my baby in my old shoes is scary, 
I must protect her from my mother Mary. 
I see my past, know where I came from, 
I can try to take her, but she'll never come. 
She just doesn't know or understand 
how she was ripped out of my hands. 
Portrayed so perfect she appears so tight, 
but she lives a lie beyond her own insight. 
A daughter should know her mother's not lying, 
she's been fed the same crap that everyone's buying. 

She's been hurt so much, she's so confused, 
so naive to the fact that she's being abused. 
Pure evil will sit up on the highest perch... 
and masquerade in the shadows of the church. 
Brainwashed, convinced, she's got them all tricked 
That's MY BABY, Evil has clenched in her grips! 
I can't stand to see it, I could fight to the death. 
I would lose her for sure, and have nothing left. 

I love my baby I know how she suffers, 
because of me, the worst kind of mother... 
What's left to do? I have made my amends! 
I have to be patient until it finally ends. 
I wish she would open her eyes to the truth, 
she'd still have some time to enjoy her youth. 
All I can do is wait here at the gate, 
hope when she comes out it's not too late.

Ode to My Disease

To My Disease,

Everyday you held me down and beat me into submission. You lied to me in my own voice, you crippled me with fear, you told me I was less than, that I would never be good enough, that people don't want me, that I was not worthy of any love. You infested my body for so long that I became unaware of who and what I was truly meant to be. You forced me to obsess and stew miserably over the hurtful words of others for an entire lifetime. You have pulled me away from people and thwarted all of my efforts toward intimacy and love. You polluted my thoughts and systematically began killing me when I was just a young child. You kept me emotionally separated from my parents and from others. You taught me not to trust anyone, you skewed my vision, allowing me to see only the dark and the negative. You convinced me that it was my fault when I was being hurt, that I deserved it.

Then when the time was right, you befriended and tricked me, you cashed in on my inadequacies. You convinced me that poisoning my body and my mind would help allow me to fit in with the world. That poison fed you, it made you grow more powerful inside of me, you told me that as long as we had each other, we didn't need to be loved. People would try to come between us, and we would have to protect our relationship. Perfecting our ability to lie, cheat, rob, manipulate, assault, or attack anyone who might try to stop us, because they were only trying to hurt us, after all, nobody was to be trusted. You assured me that we were partners in crime, outsiders were not welcome, we were sick enough to kill if it came down to it, so the world should fear us, that we would someday be famous for the horrific things we did. 

Like a demon, you had a hold on my entire existence. You controlled my will, you molded me into want what you wanted, an empty shell. Perhaps if you were to successfully gain possession my soul, upon my demise, you would inhabit the vessel by which you shall carry out your evil plot to sneak into heaven. God had a different plan.

Whether I chose to admit it or not, He had been there all along. 

The miracle happened, and you were arrested. Like a criminal, your liberties were removed, every day you've gone before the parole board, every day you have remained under arrest.

Today I shall not feed you.

Today I shall not fear you.

Today I shall not aid you.

Today I shall be grateful, for it was you, my disease, which ultimately brought me closer to my Higher Power.