Tag Archives: self

When I never was a person


Mirrors didn’t matter, but neither did my presence
Insanity chased me more when I had to live in silence
Stuck in the spider web, tangled in the  shadows
The black widow came along, and jammed in its teeth
I climbed through a window as the room spun around me
I couldn’t make it to a shower, I could not let anyone see
Hide below the blankets and sob in the quiet
You remember the only thought pounding in your mind
“What did I do? What did I do? What did I do?”
“How will I wake up tomorrow, how will I face him?”
I’ll do it by disappearing, I’ll pull an abracadabra
Before they know it, I’ll be gone and nothing can touch me again
My skin won’t exist, and my body isn’t real
With lips sewn shut, and nonexistent tear ducts
I won’t feel and I will not be, because of your choices imprisoning me
There is no one in here anymore, that girl you used to know
She went away, into the sky, and all that remains is me
I’m not a person, people can make choices and I certainly didn’t
If you want to speak to her, let me know, I speak for her
Because her voice isn’t real, and neither is she
But when you stare hard, into my soul, you can catch a glimpse of a girl
Just a shadow, an outline of her, but then blink, she flies away
I grit my teeth, keep her hidden, because the last time she was a person
She turned into an object and that pain is too much to handle
So again I say, she is not here, you have to go through me to get to her


Exposed: My Story (Update Nov. 19, 2014)

Eating. Drinking. Smoking. Snorting. Weighing. Hurting. Burning. Cutting. Starving.
Purging. Praying. Stripping. Weighing. Binging. Dying.

These are words are verbs, actions. These words are not who I am, but things I have done. These things don’t make up a person or even describe a person. They are things that people DO. Why? For myself it is how I survived in the world starting in my very late teen years. These things were my way of living, dying, punishing, forgetting, numbing, functioning and coping. These are my sanctuary, my safety and at the same time, a double-edged sword that was jabbing away at my soul, my spirit and my life. (Read full story)

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

Because of what you said, “I’m an alcoholic”

I witnessed a really amazing thing last night at my home group AA meeting. I have three home groups now: my original where I came to get sober and only attend every once-in-a-while, my steady home group on Sundays, and then my new meeting that I took over and run every Monday night.

I came very close to giving the commitment up, only after leading one meeting. This was mostly because I was exhausted all the time and I just did not feel like being in charge of a meeting. Finally, I got into the flow of it, and my meeting has been going really well. I must say, if I did not take on this commitment, I may not have helped a newcomer.

Last night, this man was attending his first meeting. I shared about myself and how I went everywhere looking for the answer and how I came to say “I am an alcoholic.” At the very end of the meeting, the newcomer raised his hand to share. He said his name was — and because of what I said, he is an alcoholic.

Wow. Acceptance and helping a newcomer by just existing and speaking.

What I am learning

Coming back from Tuesday has definitely not been easy. But, I think I am doing it, or at least I am trying. While the “slip” of my purge behavior is hard to move on from and upsetting to me, I think I’m getting there. What I’ve learned from my experience is more about myself and what I want for my life.

When I made the decision to use my voice and say, “It’s time to go, I want to go home,” or “let me drive, I’m driving,” I learned that had I been drunk or high, there’s no way I could have taken care of the other women and myself. Most likely, I would have gotten myself into a worse situation, dangerous, and also, been putting other girls in a dangerous situation. I also would have gotten in the car so drunk, I would not have cared that I was not driving, and that someone else was highly intoxicated and driving me home.

I also learned by watching the behaviors of random people at the club that there was a deeper sadness to myself, being assaulted years ago. I realized a more intense level of how I was defenseless and vulnerable. I’m not there, yet, to letting it go, but I am at least able to feel things differently.

From purging that night, I learned that when I was feeling helpless, afraid, scared and guilty, I took control by purging and also punished myself.

There is so much more I shared about during a recent AA meeting and I am learning that I am getting better in ways. It’s just a little discouraging, still, to rebound from a painful experience.

Self-sufficient & God-reliant

At first I had no idea why I was doing what I was. I didn’t understand why I was not texting my main support source consistently. I am used to being in touch with my treatment team daily, 27/7 as needed, which is brilliant and a blessing.

Something strange was going on – I was pulling away and withdrawing. It’s been four days, and it’ll be a week by the time I finally go into my session on Friday morning.

There was something I could not tap into, but at first it felt wrong, and empty. Even now it feels different and the absence does hurt a bit. It’s like a pinched nerve, but I think it’s something I need to do. I decided that for this week, I am going to try and depend on ME. It’s difficult, but apparently, if I am relying on God, I won’t be disappointed. Hopefully this is right.

I am too emotionally attached to people who have been steady and unchanging in my life for the past three years. I also am very, very dependent on them. That’s not necessarily bad, because I needed that for the longest time. Emotionally, I always get too attached to people who see me and actually care.

So I decided that I was going to pull away, get organized and schedule my own week, by the hour every day so that I could be really on top of things. I could do so much more in my day, feel accomplished and self-sufficient, use my skills, get to more AA meetings, and reach out to my friends more. I am trying to stand on my own two feet for once.

Don’t get me wrong, I still need my treatment team, but not right now. I think I need me more and I have to take the week to get less attached, emotionally, separation practice. It is not always easy, but I need to start letting them go a little.