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i'm not really sure where I am i'm not land and I'm not nature i'm not robot and I barely stand the flowers they bleed like the grills that breathe the clouds push the airplane straught to Heaven 'am i just another slave to the voices in my head?' it's a refreshing breathe of clean air when your lungs aren't used to anything so clear it's a new revelation of how life is unfair they tell me it's okay i don't believe just believe that they believe i hit rock bottom when ever i quit digging matter over mind, always.
the day I realized, i've spend every moment striving and never arriving. the quick frustration, hopless dread that's gone and made my bed. for the longest time i thought that the actual process of getting sober would be the hard part. instead i realized having the courage to go, staying, and graduating treatment is the real hard part. truth is, that's the only time- the only moment i knew i was making the right call. for the first time in my life i was surrendering. the second i decided that's what i wanted, i lost my turn to decide, anything.
it's after the dust settles. the honey moon has long gone and passed. that's when you realize life is still life. the same shit will slap you in the face that made you loose it the last time. don't drop your smile. not for one second. all eyes are on you. just as you start to feel normal- capable. you hear them whispering 'she's just too fragile, it's our responsibility to make sure she stays stable. she can't take that kind of news, not yet.' you take a deep breathe, but you still don't feel it, absolutely anything. stone cold.
I realized this week how easy it is to get stuck into the old ruts we used to be so comfortable in. Well, I guess that's the problem. Being comfortable is relaxing, easy. It's getting out of comfortably that's the hard part. Pushing myself to the limits, just to see how far I can go. Building myself a new comfortablity just to dig myself out of again. Staying on my toes all the time. The only real problem I have to continually work at is my mind set. My thought process, my stinking thinking. It's hard not to feed negativity.
It's something that I don't think I will ever be able to not be working on. Atleast not for a while. The hardest thing to change about myself is the way my mind works. It has been the same for 18 years. It was hard for me to accept that someone else may have a better answer to my problems than myself. Being powerless over something and then having to admit that to the world, that sucked. I heard so many people say that they were grateful this disease, this lifestyle. I never knew how to accept that, until today.
I thought testifying against my mom in court would be scary, nerve wrecking. I knew I wouldn't be able to do it with boldness. There's just things you know about yourself, and that I knew. Having to sit on a stand, look her in the eye and tell the whole world why I thought my mom didn't deserve to be a mother to my brother. But on the stand I realized that for once I wasn't in a power struggle. I wasn't lying or playing games. I was telling the truth. I wasn't ever against her I was for Sean.
it's much easier to write about the hard stuff that we go through rather than the good. i don't know, maybe that's just me. there are been plenty of love songs and happy poets. but they never seem to hit home quite like a sad story does. is that how everyone feels? or am i just one of the dark and twisty pessimestic people? i hope not, i've always hated being around those people. constantly hearing complaint after compaint. i think i'll start my sentences 'I rather than YOU'. i'm going to try to ease up on the blame game.
today has been a productive day. i have finished doing all of my laundry. i did the dishes. i set an eye doctor appointment, an appointment with my psychiatrist, and also got an interview for a possible job! i did a quiz for psychology. i finalized a project over the 8 dimesnions of wellness. it is 6:00 now and i have a group that starts at 6:30. After that i will go to a meeting at the classen club from 8-9. i think i will finish my day with a shower and an episode of greys anatomy.
I remember waking up and feeling secure. Maybe not in who I was but in the people around me. Waking up in bed with your best friend, there is not a feeling like it. It's the feeling of home. growing up I don't remember ever feeling like I had a home to call my own. yeah, I had a house to stop at when I needed to drop something off. Maybe even crash at for the night. But not a home. For a short period I remember waking up and knowing tha I had a home to call my own.
i left everything i knew. everyone i loved. i put all my big plans on hold. because i hated feeling so anxious all the time. i lived, breathed, slept anxiety. it's the worst feeling in the world. it's the most powerless i have ever felt in my life. it's like running in circles. as fast and as hard as you can but knowing you're going absolutely nowhere. i surrendered and left everything i knew hoping that someone else would have a better answer than i had. and they did. and it's worked for the last six months. atleast it did.
i feel good about my first semester so far. i know it's early but my first two tests i've recieved A's on. my psychology class average on the first test is a 74% and i got a 92%. which is amazing because i've never made an A on a test in my life. i used to come to class not knowing that there was even a test or quiz that day. i've been stressing for months about how i'd do. now we'll just have to see how well i can do in a science or math class when they come.
i got asked to tell my life story at church in two weeks, and i said yes. i always knew that telling my story would be something that i'd be doing in the program. i even knew it'd be a possibility outside of the program. but never did i expect to be telling it this soon. i thought i'd be older. atleasy more stable. but if i would have said no because i thought i wasn't ready... i probably would have never thought that i was ready. i'm always going to want more time to prepare. i've gotta just jump.
i've been missing my mom lately. which i know is natural, i know it is. i don't want to see her or even call her. i don't have any desire to try and be fix everything that's going on with her today. i just want one second for everything to not be how it is. i want to be able to run to my mommy when i can't take all of lifes shit anymore. i want her to tell me to move home and it'll all work itself out. i want that feeling of escape like i used to get.
it's hard for me to believe that being an alcoholic is a chemical imbalance disease, and i am one. it is argueably the stupidest idea that anyone has ever come up with. yet, there is scientific proof of it. today some guys in class were drenched in what smelled like the best weed i have ever smelled before. my mind instantly relaxed. all of the anxiety i am so used to having just melted away. for about 5 minutes until my body realized i wasn't giving it any and i've had a migrain for the following 4.5 hours now.
its been so long since you've sang me a song. it's takens years time to understand that you're not mine. when the sun sets and we need the best kind of vent. in those moments we allow ourselves to be locked in Utopia. your arms give me a port to refuel in the worst of storms. during the changing seasons, where the people I love are always leaving too soon. touch me deep, be all that i consume. in family company where comfort takes on a whole new meaning. public affaris where I can be the adult I've grown to be.
There is unimaginable relief I find in your prescence. Every belief, every thought, exposed. The circumstances we're in; our successes and our failures, the new lessons we have each learned. stripped naked in everyway; mind, body, soul. Raw and honest. Staring at me staring at you. and it is the most complete and flawless I have ever felt in my life. But that is all apart of our past. Today the only relief I get is when you come to me in my dreams. Just when I am breaking at the seems. You only come when I am coming undone.
Candy, a young and beautiful girl who falls in love with a boy who introduces her to something that changes her life forever. During her addiction she lost every part of who she once was. She lost her morals, her values, eventually leading her to a life of no boundaries. Living in brothels and filth. Painting was her one passion and her parents cherished her. Because of her substance abuse she stopped painting, and slowly drove a wedge between herself and her mom. the only priority was doing anything she needed to do in order to get that next shot.
Mommy, I would personally like to thank you for making and breaking me. I want to put the spotlight on you and congradulate you for being the filthy example that broke away every belief I listed above. Maybe there's still a chance for your bleak mond body and soul. But that is permanently beyond me- & I will no longer be the person that has faith in you. Every person in this exsistance has someone that will stand by their side. No matter What. To believe in one and support one- I was your person and ironcially, you were never mine.
you live in denial about who I truly am. And forever making me doubt my healthy mind set, big heart, and beautiful soul- fuck you eternally. Do the next person you plan on ruining a favor, (yeah that would be Sean) sit the fuck down. Find your place, it's not hard considering it's right beneathe your feet. Then again, it could be a challenge since it's not a brick of green you can pick apart and smoke. This all may be a little offensive and wrong of me to say, but for once I'm okay with being selfish and judgemental.-->
Who am I to judge, you ask? The child who earned her right, that's who. And where is my spritual tongue? Next to my middle finger, and no, this time I won't pray for you. I'm a believer, yes. But when it comes to you, I might as well be an atheist. Love, Kayley. PS. Sccrew you for not being here for me right now. Of all the times in my life for you to decide to check out and be the victom, of course you choose now. I am really happy you were able to get your happy ending.-->
I'm glad it is so easy to let go of your other children. Because Caleb is with his dad and doesnt know how to stand up for himself. Because Alyssa did take a stand and you're not what she chose. Instead of feeling grateful she is getting the best help she can. I wrote this letter to my mom my first month in treatment. I had no intention of ever sending it to her but it's interesting to look back and remember how angry I was with her. It feels good to know that I have grown and forgiven her.
it took me a long time to realize i was an alcoholic. even when i surrendsered and decided to go to treatment i went because i was exhausted. i was tired of being tired. i woke up one morning just to have a brawl with my best friend over a nutty bar. nothing was out of the ordinary- I did not hit this incredible rock bottom, i just could not have that fight anymore. with myseelf, with my mom, with my best friends. i decided then and there that i was done. i would not keep living on that feeling.
when i first met trey those days were extravegant bliss. the extacy flowed, it seeped from our pours connecting our veins. intertwining us as one flesh. the smell of his sweat, the touch of his exposed skin, the sweet violence the sound of his voice made. the sun fed our comfortable love. the kush in the clouds entertained our already clouded world. it could not have lasted long. trouble blew in from every direction. the wind, it twisted and turned, pushed our limits. but we learned something. it's not okay to push the lone you love in times of hardship...
...you have to do absoultely everything you can to depend on them. rather than turn on them as a defense mechanism. you cling to each other with every ounce of strength you can possibly gather up. grasp ahold and don't let go. the ice quickly melted as the seasons changed. the spring air brought in a reminder that it is not my season. that it will never be my time of year. every flower that arose came new worry. & always unexpected doubt. it's like the entire winter froze the roots so damn hard, all the could do was produce fear.
I told my story Sunday at church. i barely remember anything but i was able to hear myself over again. it was freeing for myself. but mostly it was such a reward to hear the impact it made on the people in the congregation. they each came up to me, one by one. thanking me in sencerity. i was so incredibly nervous and scared. i just knew there was no way i wasn't expressing all those emotions on stage. but against all odds, i did. that is the power of my God. I know i could not have done that.
i'm so relieved to have made it through a hard season without using. i know a great deal, well basically all of my writing is about my past. i don't ever want to bore the audience. i just have absolutley no other ideas about what to write about. atleast when i'm passionate about something i can write about it decently. english is so important to me, i don't want to ruin it. the best writings i can do are random & they don't make sense to most people. but they mean everything to me. isn't that how it's supposed to be?
i want to do something that matters. i want to spend my life making a difference in peoples lives. whenever i wake up and want to do anything but go to work i want to be able to know that i'm not doing it for myself. i'm not working a 9-5 for a pay check. but every single day i'm changing the lives of people around me. i know that sounds cliche. most people want to do something they think is relevant. someone told me the other day that what i want to do is basically impossible. real incouraging.
IN A PERFECT WORLD: Do my basics at OSU OKC. transfer to UCO and get a 4 year degree in psychology. after my bachelors i would apply to OSU stillwater and the peace core. as long as i got accepted into both, i would have the oppurtunity to travel to a third world country. it is randomly picked but i would love to live in south east asia. deep in the mountains residing in a small village. while i am there, i would write about my experiences. show how my four year degree is making a difference where im at..-->
i would live whereveer i am stationed for 24 months. whenever i am finished i would come home and finsih my masters program at OSU- Stillwater. i would have already completed two-thirds of my credit hours. i would take my last few classes and graduate with an international studies degree. i would solely be doing it for experience and oppurtunity. then i would like to get my doctorite as a psychitrist. i would love to own my own practice that would be resolved on working with children of alcoholics and addicts. it's an amazing dream. but it'd be hard.
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