Tag Archives: alcohol

Do you see this little girl?

945971_10151874063161477_2020789806_nLook at this little girl, the silly smile on her face
see her tiny dimples, and sunglasses perfectly in place
She’s only a young toddler, the entire world before of her
But if you knew the road ahead, your heart would become heavier

Do you see this little girl, innocent and small?
Her parents love all of her as they watch her learn to crawl.
She’s only a few years old, but has an old soul
Always laughing and playing, her future still untold

You focus on her smile and the light in her eyes
It’s hard to believe years down the road a darkness will rise
You couldn’t see the shadow, even if you wanted to
Inside this little girl, a disease began to grow

She will be bullied and taunted, pushed and shoved
Her heart will shrink and she’ll feel unloved
Her once loud laughter will shrink down to silence
Her bright smile will fade, and she’ll meet quiet violence

People won’t hear her, so she’ll turn inward with her pain
What used to beam sunshine, only storms inside and rains
Her hope will begin to dwindle as she slowly slips away
But it’s only going to get darker, from glitter to gray

She will find her way to fit in after yearning to be wanted
She takes her first sip of alcohol, takes sobriety for granted
Turning into the life of the party, she’s the center of all the jokes
She just wants to be loved, but people prod and poke

She’ll give up on trust and love by the time she’s nineteen
When a man twice as old as her gets on his knees
Her voice is gone, she can’t make a sound as she sits paralyzed
She turns to stone, gives him his way, and inside breaks and cries

By now she’s lost her faith in God and turns to worship booze
Now an alcoholic, she’s lost her ability to choose
Not long from now, it won’t be enough as she rolls a dollar bill
She’ll snort away her problems, as heroin moves in for the kill

Nothing takes away her despair, her stomach full of guilt
She throws up her food, her shame, the life she could have built
When puking isn’t enough, and starvation is the only way
She turns her brokenness inward, stops eating and fades away

Once a healthy baby girl, she is dying inside and hopeless
No matter how much weight is lost, all she see’s is ugliness
She screams and yells, but no one else can hear
So she runs to the blade and she slices and tears

This little girl, now 21, is hollowed out and empty
This shell of a woman, no where to go, steps on the stage for money
Do you see this dancing girl, a friendless and pained daughter
There’s no way out she’s become her own slaughter

Now rewind time, back inside the playpen, look at the girl there
You wouldn’t know by looking, but you can see me if you stare.
You see, I am this little girl, now grown up and fighting to live
While I can’t protect her, I can try to help her forgive

Nothing could have prepared her for the broken road ahead
But she needs you here, she needs you now, because she’s not yet dead
Listen to the little girl, and when she asks hold her hand
Because I am her, all grown up, and still need help to stand



It’s been a real trying couple days. In addition to the loss of my little hammy, I had to manage a crisis with my young sponsee — the 15-year-old. It’s sad but she simply just stopped doing the things that help keep us alcoholics sober. I was at a meeting and she showed up high out of her mind. While it was sad to watch, I knew that she just was not ready to let go of drugs.

Yesterday, I finally said to her, “What are you doing? What do you want to do?” She responded that she wasn’t going to drink or do “drugs” anymore, but she was not ready to give up pot. I simply told her that I can’t help her if she is going to continually get high. It really sucked having to let her go. Basically, I said that I would be here, will always be here, and that when she hits her bottom and is ready to get sober, I will more than willingly help her. I want to help her now, but I can’t get sober for her. It’s hard to see someone you want so badly to get this, and they simply cannot. At least I planted the seed, so I am told.

But, I just pray her bottom is not as bad as mine was. The funny thing is though, that my life is just ah-ha. God clearly is the driver of my life. I was having a really bad panic attack yesterday after work. I had this impending doom fear, that something really bad was going to happen. When I got to the club house, not long after I arrived, a new woman with only 17 days walked in needing a sponsor and help. Again, I have a sponsee. It seems that God keeps bringing me people when I need it the most.

Not to mention that this week I fired my sponsor because she was being emotionally abusive. That was hard to manage as well. But I did get a new sponsor who I have connected with well over the past 6 months and I am excited to start working with her tomorrow.

AA conventions bring life lessons

I attended my second AA convention this weekend. It was an overwhelming experience this year. Unlike last year (when I was like a kitten on nip, running all over the place, excited and hyper) I felt there was more of an emotional impact.

There are many reasons why this past weekend was difficult. The convention is always an amazing experience, regardless of what I take from it. But this year, while there was definitely excitement, there were emotions and trials, things I was forced to face AND manage.

While there is something phenomenal and magical about conventions, it goes way deeper than a room full of alcoholics. The biggest and most emotional aspect, this year, was the words and experience, strength, and hope, I listened to.

Without breaking anonymity, simply put, one of the speakers this weekend shared a story, almost parallel to mine. And the biggest impact for me was how she shared about living in the solution.

When it comes down to forgiving an assailant, releasing the anger and resentment — how do you do it? This was the question I have been asking myself for a long time. The answer? It all came down to one alcoholic looking at another sick person across the room.

The behavior? Sick. The mentality? Sick. The action? Ill. The practice I need to figure out is me, being a sick addict/alcoholic in recovery, looking across the room at an even sicker person, and acknowledging that sickness.

I’m not great at this. This is a new concept for me, that I had to take from the convention. But it’s definitely forced me to stare at an incident in my life that is painful and hard to move through. But it’s been forced to come to the light and now it’s all around. Along with the anniversary coming up sooner than I’d like, of the assault, I’m hit pretty hard. It’s time to find a way to apply what I learned at the convention. What I heard and to listen to the words, today, not just that Friday night.


I try to gasp for air, but the harder I try, the more my breath is stolen. I can try and listen to the music and let it soothe me. Sometimes, the right song fills me inside, and calms me; it speaks for me. Sometimes it even cradles me like a child.

I cannot say that I am at a loss for words; but I am at a loss. There’s a lot of confusion and emotion and it shakes me. I feel a chill of fear for something I cannot identify. There is a cold air that freezes me inside, exhaling frost. Where is the warmth that I felt not long ago?

I’m holding myself captive by the gnawing bite of memory. It makes me squirm, my stomach drops and the wind is knocked out of me. There is a loss of control, a silence. I didn’t stand a chance because I was taken over by liquid poison. The alcohol held me down, pinned unable to think; unable to choose.

I close my eyes and I envision liquor rain washing over me, pouring down, cleansing me from his taste. It burns.

If your sponsor isn’t good enough for meetings, is he/she good enough for you?

I know this question can come across conceited or egotistical, but anyone who suffers from a mental disorder or addiction deserves the best help to recover. For myself, I never put my safety or interest first (or hardly ever). But this past month, I started putting my own recovery before others.

I don’t mean to come across as selfish but let me ask you something. If you knew someone was in an abusive relationship, verbally or physically, would you tell them to stay? If you were stranded or abandoned in the city by a friend, would you take off with a stranger or would you call for help? When does your own safety become a risk?

This is a question that I have been learned about for the past three years, but it was only recently that I began understanding and practicing this idea. In AA or NA, they always say “people, places, things” and for good reason.

Hanging around the wrong people can ruin your own morals. This I have learned since I was a little girl: ‘Bad company corrupts good morals.’

So I bring back the focus to individual recovery and choosing a path that will help you get to where you need to be.

At tonight’s meeting, someone shared about how his sponsor decided that he was too good for meetings and didn’t need them anymore. This individual then shared that he decided his sponsor wasn’t good enough for him. He is over 20 years sober, to this date.

If your sponsor is not around you, in touch with you frequently, reaching out to you daily, going to as many meetings as you are or even non-responsive at times. Hell, I will even throw out if your sponsor doesn’t even contact you on your sobriety anniversary date, are they really helping you?

You get out of any program, therapy or treatment what you put into it. I have been on the first step for the past month (which I am not complaining) but I have not been guided through it by my sponsor.

For the past month I was debating whether or not my sponsor was helping me enough. Was I getting the attention I needed? The support I needed? The guidance that I needed? Sadly, the answer is no.

My sponsor did not even contact me knowing that my 30 day anniversary was yesterday. I am not sore about this, but I am saddened. I’ve had this other mentor from AA who, a month ago, gladly offered to guide me through the steps. On Thursday, I asked her to take me through them.

She contacts me daily, gives me advice on how to begin the steps and will take me through. I see her at least once a week at one meeting, if not more. She responds when I have urges and she texted me on my anniversary yesterday wishing me a ‘Happy 30.’

So, I decided for myself that no, my sponsor was not good enough for me. Is she a wonderful woman? Of course. Do I value her friendship? Absolutely. But when it boils down to it, this is MY recovery, not hers.

I put myself first and now I am beginning to really dig into the dirt. I am finally moving forward through my own journey of recovery with a woman who is grounded and wants to refresh her own mind by taking me through.

I encourage anyone; if you feel that you are not getting what YOU need for YOUR recovery, take a good time to think about it. Set yourself a deadline for making a decision. I gave myself a few weeks and finally made the decision. After you decide, talk with other AA members and get some feedback in a non-gossip way. Even try talking with your sponsor about what YOU need. If it doesn’t work, find a back up plan and draw close to someone who reaches out to you repeatedly.

When you can finally find that person to guide you, you can continue through the program and process of growth. The key: To be honest with YOURSELF.

Learning how to feel and deal: reflections of the past month.

Taking time to reflect on some comment last night, the group leader pointed out that I am nowhere near where I was a month ago. This is true, and something I need to give myself credit for. A month ago, I was not sober and so sick in my eating disorder that I fought to drink a Boost nutrition drink. This group leader is special to me. The night before Thanksgiving, a little after midnight, she brought me to Walmart and bought me boost. I had to commit and promise to drink it, keep it, and text it. I did that, but thinking back to that point, I was bordering an extremely dangerous weight, or on my way down that rabbit hole. I was cutting, not as much as I had before but I was still hurt myself. I had gotten to the point of no return. I was going to go and go until I really disappeared. I couldn’t get enough alcohol and all I could think about was drugs. I even had made the decision that I was going to quit therapy.

When my mind hopped the track, which I cannot explain other than a miracle or a gift from my higher power, AKA God, I did not know I would be touching a month of sobriety. I did not know that I would be eating several times a day, five times a day, going to restaurants and ordering food and not binging or purging on it. I did think I would be carry group members, as the group cheerleader and initiating self-validation projects. I didn’t ever think that I would be helping others network and establish their own community. Hell, I was there and I know what it’s like to be so scared and want to get better so, so bad but you don’t have the resources.

I am starting to feel my emotions again, learning how to feel and deal. I guess coming up around the corner on my first month of sobriety, it was a good idea to look back on my first month of whatever round this is of treatment, focused on regaining my life. Never did I think that I would want more than anything to get better. Never would I ever imagine saying how angry I am at one of the people I love most in my life. I never knew I would be able to express myself and say how I feel, being honest. It’s not fun, but I do it. I sit here and when I cry, it’s because I can see myself, free of everything damaging and self-destructive and I have hope. I try and try and I finally hit my rock bottom when I stopped digging. Never give up. You are never at a point of no return. Keep going, keep pushing through. I am at a phase of recovery I have never been in, ever. I call it ED Purgatory. I feel the emotions, and I want nothing to do with my symptom use but sometimes it becomes unbearable and I use them. But I don’t want to. That’s the difference. I am moving through the motions of emotions, hanging onto that log, drifting down the river. I have grown and it’s only been a month.