Fixed in Motion — treekeeperblog

With people, places, things, situations and circumstances in a state of continuous fluctuation, I find myself swept up in unpredictability, confusion and chaos. Everything is in some form of transition and unrest, and I seek something to provide stability and ground me here in this moment. In a world of constant, flux the nature of […]

via Fixed in Motion — treekeeperblog

I’m 9 years old. My mom is at work for the afternoon and I just got home off the bus from school. He was sitting in the house when I got home and we started joking around and wrestling. Soon, he had his hand on me, in places that shouldn’t be touched by any man […]

via Survivor — LIFE RE-EDITED

Chaos Sober or Not

Okay, so getting clean is tough. You do it so your life isn’t so fucked up anymore, right? I mean nobody does it because they just don’t like getting high. The consequences are catching up. Hopefully, you are making this decision at home and not prison. However, you get there right? Anyway, in the past twenty years, I have had periods of sobriety. The longest was three years. The rest don’t even count. So in those three years, I had my child and it was nice.

The only problem is that even though I was sober; I lived like an addict. People that don’t use are thinking, What? I don’t mean I was still going to the dealers house waiting for hours, for no reason. No, I lived in utter chaos. I still didn’t pay my bills on time, and just lived scared. Believe it or not, I worried myself into a relapse over shit I could have easily taken care of. I had the money, time, and means.

So why didn’t I take care of shit, I should have? Easy, I didn’t know how. I hadn’t ever done it. Waiting until the cutoff notice came in the mail was how I paid bills for 10 years so that is how I did it when I was sober. Maybe this is what they are talking about in meetings when they say you gotta work the program? Who knows, all I know is I need some classes to take because I don’t know how to be a grown up!!

Don’t worry I am working on it.

Dear Addiction

What do you want from me? I have given you everything. You have my beauty, self-respect and my time. You tell me it’s okay and you know it’s a lie. Why won’t you let me go? You know how unhappy I am. What more can I give you, you’ve taken a lot. My innocence, self-esteem and all the dreams I had are gone. Who knows what they were. You even stole that. Memories of drug deals and withdrawals replace getting an education, my dream job and countless things I don’t even know I misplaced.

Who am I without you? There is no way anyone could know. The person they know has a crisis daily. A fire starter who sets fires all over so others can’t tell the smoke is actually coming from me!

You stole my twenties and thirties. My only hope now is to be able to live my forties in peace without you. You don’t even want to give me that. I don’t understand why! What more can I give you, you’ve taken it all. I want the chance to live and find out who I really am. Then as soon as I turn around it’s you again. You knock, knock in my head no matter what I do. Within a few hours of throwing you out, the withdrawal starts his part. Whenever you go you leave him behind so I don’t forget what I have done. It doesn’t matter that I am broken inside because that is the way you want me. The weaker I am the easier this job will be. Withdrawal is working as hard as he can he runs his cold fingers down my spine as his firey breath makes me sweat, it feels like I’m going insane.

He won’t let me sleep no matter how much I beg. He whispers terrible insults into my ear just to keep me awake. It seems like it cannot get much worse. Surely I will die, there no way I can do this anymore. When I think okay, I will just past away…you take even that from me. That would be too easy. That would mean letting me go. You are so cruel. You won’t even allow me the peace of death…you’d rather I have a life in HELL with you.

*Painting by: Imora Wetz

A Hint Of Crazy — The not-so secret life of a manic depressant.

She liked living with a hint of crazy, a touch of fucked up, and a whole lot of passion. Sadly, people didn’t appreciate who she was, and what she loved. So, they would try to change her, turn her into what they deemed to be appropriate. It hurt her. It hurt her so much that […]

via A Hint Of Crazy — The not-so secret life of a manic depressant.