About me

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I am many things to many different people. I have few titles and fewer awards but I am complete in all that I have accomplished. My most precious of all gifts does not belong to me yet I love as if. You may know me, but you'll never really know me because I cannot be anything more than what you want to see even though I am everything I need to be.

Jul 29, 2011

I am an Addict

Tick, tock, minute by minute, second by second,
hours in a day.  A day in a week and a week in a month,
and so on. And so on.  And so on I go.  On I go. Go.

Keep going. Don't give up.  Push through the seconds,
and the minutes, and the hours, and the days, and the weeks,
and on and on.

The world moves so fast, a blur; yet I feel like I'm crawling.

Breathe.  Why is it so hard to breath? Unclench. Unclench my jaw, my shoulders, my stomach...my hands. My sweating hands. My warm sweating hands that feel cold to the touch of my burning face, relieved only by intermittent waves of cool, tingly breezes dancing across my skin from head to toe.

Is it time to sleep yet?  Sleep will help me breath.  I won't think about
breathing because my body automatically knows how when I'm sleeping, right?  Why have I forgotten how?  Let go.

Let go and let my body do what it already knows how.  Let go of the control. I am in control of nothing anyway.  Nothing except whether or not I reach, grab, place, consume that bit of once wondrous magic that now turns to poison the minute it mixes with my blood.  That poison that so long ago was my gateway out of social hell.  My savior.  My salvation from shyness, from ugliness, from humiliation, from being less than.  It gave me strength and courage to be all that I lacked, to join the illusion, the chain of networks that measure us and rate us and draw from their own experiences and try to make them ours.

Pacing, voices, loneliness, purging, crying, bargaining, praying, begging, screaming, accepting.

Yes, I'll sleep.  If I can stop the thoughts of wanting.  Wanting more.  More is never enough.

Morning.

Wake up and re-live the nightmare.  Do it again.
Do it until the poison is out of the blood.
Do it until I can breath again without thinking about it.
Do it until the shaking and sweats go away.
Because they will. I know they will.  They say they will and I believe.  I can no longer trust the illusion.

And when they do, when my body stops retaliating for not giving it what I said was good for so many years,  and I am calm and there is peace and the cravings stop, what residuals will I find from all this hard work known as "detox?"..

Life

Unveiled, Uncensored, Raw and Real.
In my face and mine to decide how to react to it because for so many years the poison did all the reacting for me.

Enough
I had enough and am tired of living in the mist of a fog laden and a no-way-there's-a-happy ending fairytale.
Enough
I never have to do this again.

Tick, tock, second by second, minute by minute, hours in a day,
a day in a week and a week in a month and then...

Happy Anniversary.  Breathe.