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Alcoholism

A child in their teens poses a question in this novel I am reading, that I feel compelled to answer, because I feel it applies to me.

Had all those homeless people in the parks and subways of Manhattan, just not paid attention in class?

Lisa Unger, Darkness My Old Friend

No, Willow. I paid attention in class, I have a MA in Public Policy and graduated with 3.43. I have an minor in philosophy, and my BA is in Political Science, which I graduated with a 3.2 in because I was drinking heavily the whole time.

I paid attention in class, but realized that Political Science caused me to drink and use drugs, but it is the only subject other than fiction and Philosophy that interested me, because it was about the nature of man. I found myself with nothing to do with my life because the system was criminal, or I thought it to be, so I decided if I could not get behind it, I would slowly die, on the streets. I am not a brave person, but I am recovering from mindslaying fear, and going to use my writing to do something positive eventually.

I am riddled with lack, I am the lack of soul, which comes with condescending attack. I am the power of demise, I speak with eyes of despise. I am misery in carnate raw form, I am dead man’s scorn. I am war torn. I am forlong, I am dark thorn, in shoe of human being with very precious heart. I am fear of start. I am the smart.

You are a liar, who has no soul to be on fire, and you will not get mine, you are death, and you can stay the HELL away from me, because I aim to breathe, I breathe breath that comes with shedding fear, and walking away from beer or heroin or crack or meth or weed or anything that makes me so afraid to be without it that I desire to talk to you at all, things that makes all things small, so it can be tall. You have no legs. You can’t stand without piggy backing on my back, herder of swine. You are mine, I am not yours.

**** it, I am losing my mind.

I am not sure if I am, or if something is just changing. I have two competing sensations

1. I am losing my mind, permanently

2. My mind is finally fixing itself

I am not sure which one is accurate.

I am not sure of anything right now.

I have begun to feel comfortable actually, which makes me think I am in the process of awaiting some strange horrific malady. I will tell you this, I do not ****ing like this, and it is very ****ing uncomfortable.

Although, I think my family is doing better, I am using my powers of mental insight for good finally. I have started doing weird things to help my family get along better. I wrote a note to one of them that solved a dispute that they had with each other, and now they are getting along better. That is all I will say on this website about that, because I no longer have the gift of anonymity. I gave one of them this website address as a way for one of them to find out more about me..I had been gone for 7 years using and drinking on the streets, and in various hotel rooms, other situations.

That is literally my favorite holiday… ****! I think I forgot it, because I was supposed to, because other than the Fourth of July, it is one of the days I have the hardest time not drinking. The Fourth of July, I used to get hammered and loudly talk about what a good American I was until I almost got arrested, and then I liked to tell the cops arresting me what a good American I was, which would usually cause them to either not arrest me, or to violently arrest me.

It was hilarious.

But it is the reason why I have a bunch of warrants for failure to appear.

I don’t appear for anyone I don’t want to. Not even myself.

Stream of Consciousness

If you could have something named after you, what would it be?

I really just wanted to make the Lord of the Rings joke. That is the whole reason for this post really. I have been trying to find some reason to make a Lord of the Rings joke all day, because I love Lord of the Rings. Which is funny because I have only ever read the Hobbit, and never finished the series, because I am lazy. I have a hard time reading anything that is not a horror story because it is the only style that holds my attention.

I think that is because it is the only style that competes with the horrific images, that are my imagination, which is horrible. I think that might not be my fault though, I think it might be PTSD. I just noticed how often I use the word fault, or blame, and it is a little bit disturbing. There are a lot of times I use this and it is not even something that involves fault or blame. I don’t know why I do this.

It’s all for you, Damien.

The Omen

Daily writing prompt

What’s something most people don’t understand?

View all responses

I have being having a hissy fit my whole life about having to be someone I am not. I am not Rei Clearly, I am not Amanda. I am me. I am this, I am Damien, take it or leave it.

I should have said that the whole time, instead of saying I was a violent person or a psycho. I am merely just a very angry person, but really only at myself, for never standing up for myself, for drinking and using about something I did to me.

I am done with it, I know I have said that, but I am putting this on here, so I have to look at it, every time I try to word vomit negativity.

I used to think, this was a command about getting coins, a vessel being something that held coins, this being my alcoholic mind making things up that make no sense. A vessel has never been something that holds coins, instead being a large boat, or a hollow container used to hold liquid.

So of course, me being who I am, thought that it was supposed to hold coins, or booze money, or money for other things that are the same things, because it doesn’t matter, I can be addicted to running and make myself sick running till I feel like I am going to pass out, and tell myself that I am doing a good thing, because it is only running right?

Or the time when I figured out you could experience.. hey.. how bout I not do that? How about I say something positive for a change, instead of being on a failing ship that is falling because I loaded it with fools gold, how about I say something posotive and turn the fate of my ship around, right? Clearly See not will asserted See Clearly right?

Having fun talking to yourself?

Clearly.

Positive self-talk, my style. 😛

I can do it too, I just do it this way.

I am learning that the truth is, I am just so damn arrogant that I thought my way worked, even though clearly it does not, and I have been taught that recently by people who love me, and have way more knowledge of what is true and real than I ever did doing things on my own.

I am learning to change vessels, to get off the failing ship, failing because it ia loaded with spare change meant to buy things I don’t need, and take the advice of friends who love me.

They were telling me the truth the whole time, I just wasn’t listening.

I am not privy to the truth yet, I am too **** arrogant to know anything that even resembles that, but I am working on seeing and if I can do that first maybe I can finally find out what truth even means, because I have had my eyes shut my whole **** life and someone just turned on the freakin’ lights, so I will figure out from here I guess, but at least I know what I am dealing with now, and that I can’t freaking do this alone anymore, because I didn’t realize this alone. It took people I know with flashlights to help show me the way out of the freaking darkness, towards a light in the sky that may illuminate the path away from a failing vessel full of fools gold.

I

https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2023/03/28/your-daily-word-prompt-Wallop-ydwordprompt-March-28-2023/

British people are great, free wallop meaning alcoholic drinks, but also meaning the same thing that wallop already means which is to strike someone very hard. That is perfect. It perfectly describes me when drinking, violent. It perfectly describes the deviant reaction of my brain to an addictive substance, which also being a slang term for an alcoholic drink.

Best prompt ever. Done. Thank you wordpress.

Now this.

I am talking to a reflection of pain

It is telling me trust me, baby, I will make life risky. I am hearing this, and thinking I am bored, and a game sounds fun so, lets go, and I can’t even imagine wanting this now so, no.

https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2023/03/26/rdp-sunday-muskrat/

I didn’t know the river, that I thought was a river, was really a swamp. I couldn’t tell from where I was standing, it was too dark.

I had not paid much attention either, having had to make a quiet escape, while my “friend” was sleeping, so as to not offer any explanation and justify my leaving.

I am looking out over the water, I am hot and itchy, it has been days since I showered, and by days, I mean… probably weeks, probably a month. I don’t know the difference between the segments of time, they make no difference to me anymore. I am itchy, and there is water… or ehm.. I was itchy.. and there was water… I am not good at the whole tense thing sometimes either… I am always tense…….. tense….. it is just a state of mind….

I jump into the river, or what I think is a river, and it feels good for a second, just one, till I realize what I have done, and the fatal error I have made. This is a swamp. I panic, pulling at weeds, and struggling to not sink too far into it, it takes me 45 minutes to escape my failure at showering, and I look like a drowned muskrat.

https://wordpress.com/read/feeds/34771988/posts/4623259682

“I knew I shouldn’t watch, that she wouldn’t want me to. But the way that water slipped around her bare skin rooted me in place. The moon shone down on both on us both, alighting her beauty, and me in sin.”

I have no voice, or choice to move.

I am not man, I am not one who desires food.

I am unlike this woman, I observe.

I am home to nest, I am home to bird.

She does not know, because she cannot understand, I am a tree, and yet I see, her where she stands.

https://wordpress.com/read/feeds/19271780/posts/4621730431

 She gritted her teeth and began the climb, To a unified soul and a beautified mind, she did not know what she would end to find, but existed in a deep and soul entangling bind of mind.

She climbed up a mountain, searching in night, digging for something, existing in fight, she was sure of something, that was the light, that stood there before her, illuminating night, it was the only, thing she could see, and she followed it silent, hoping to see, an end to the darkness, nothing but that, she desired nothing, only a cap, on sadness so deep it drowned her soul, making her drink, making her toke, and poke,

She  She gritted her teeth and began the climb, To a unified soul and a beautified mind,

She gritted her teeth and began the climb, To a unified soul and a beautified mind, she did not know what she would end to find, but existed in a deep and soul entangling bind of mind.

She climbed up a mountain, searching in night, digging for something, existing in fight, she was sure of something, that was the light, that stood there before her, illuminating night, it was the only, thing she could see, and she followed it silent, hoping to see, an end to the darkness, nothing but that, she desired nothing, only a cap, on sadness so deep it drowned her soul, making her drink, making her toke, and poke, 

She desired nothing, only a cure, existing in sorrow, being in whir. Desiring nothing, seeking to find, cure to addiction, to disease of mind. She is me, clearly, but not anymore, they is my name, not like before, I am no longer in darkness, I have seen light, I have the cure, the end to the night, this is for those, seeking to find, a solution to the darkness existing in addicted mind, I speak of nothing other than cure, take me or leave me I am not sore.

Trigger Warning: Themes include drugs, alcohol, resentment, and struggle to become more placid through surrending my will to a higher power.

I used to watch this movie about a crocodile when I was a kid, and everyone else would sit there scared, not only at the crocodile, but at the fact that I thought it was funny, to see people getting ripped into peices. I would sit there laughing like the hyenas in the Lion King, because I hated those around me so much for being born normal, while I was born with all this **** wrong with me.

I would imagine that the crocodile was killing them, slaying my enemies, for having been given the grace of something I thought specifically hated me. I imagined how easy it would be to placid, if I only were them, that they did not know the unique struggles I had faced, and that was why it was okay, just for me to do whatever I wanted, like steal booze from my mom, when I was 12, and sometimes drink booze I stole when no one was looking at Christmas, or try to get people at Christmas to let me smoke cigars.

I started drinking heavily when I was 18, and continued drinking heavily, until I thought I could not do it well anymore, without aide from sedatives, and uppers to balance the sedatives, and then of course, my best friend alcohol. This was when I was 28.

I started doing heroin and meth, when I was 28, is what I am saying here. That is a lie. I tried meth for the first time when I was 21, but started regularly using it when I was 30. I would occasionally do it whenever it was available since I was 18.

I once had someone pay me for an adventure in a motel with it, when I was 21. I stayed up all night with them, and got paid to stay up all night with them.

This is what I have come to realize through stepping away, towards a sober more placid life style. I was getting paid to be high by doing things I had to be high to do.

Misery cycle.

Mercy cycle is harder.

I like meditating on a higher power better now. Much more placid lifestyle.

https://wordpress.com/tag/ragtag-daily-prompt

https://lindaghill.com/2023/03/24/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-march-25-2023/

I emptied both of my laundry baskets last night, metaphorical and physical, instead of throwing all my clothes out and saying I don’t need more than the clothes on my back.

I don’t have many clothes, or I didn’t because whenever I would get angry, I would throw my clothes out, or all over the road, or all over the woods, or leave them at someone’s house, or you get the idea. I leave things places, because I don’t need things… or so I thought.. apparently… that is addiction thinking……

I used to hate my family,

Because they did not understand me.

They told me try to get better, because they don’t ****ing understand me…

Or because they love you, jerk.

I did my laundry yesterday with my mother, and she helped me fold it because I am missing three of my finger tips, because I have done things that caused me to get infections in my hands…

I told her I was sorry, and now my laundry is put away and all of it is clean.

https://wordpress.com/read/blogs/147347238/posts/4271

I used to be chained and bound, to tree with roots on poison ground, soiled with years of heroic consumption of heroin, meth alcohol, and death, and destruction.

I used to fire fire in vain effort to inject in vein with deathly effort, now instead I have developed a new addiction, a mesmerization with words and fiction, instead of misery mercy through diction. Thank you wordpress for keeping me sane, for saving my life, and keeping from destruction in vein in vain.

Mercy is found when, reflections are made, that bring the eye from ground to sky, that cast the eyes to that which is hire than anything I can fire in vain effort, to fill my blood that is so vital to my survival, with poison instead of being what it is, a gift of life to a soul in diseased strive.

Merci, Merci,

Mercy, Mercy.

I thank you from the misery of addicted souls everywhere

Damien.

We always had terriers when I was growing up and I have a soft spot for this breed.  This west highland terrier was enjoying the park as much as we were.

A FINE DAY OUT — BELINDA GROVER PHOTOGRAPHY

You keep me going, reminding me of things I love more than substances I hate. I want to get a dog so bad. Thank you for helping me stay clean and sober.

JOKE

If something frightening happens to you today, think about it. It may be a warning. It may be The Omen.

The omen

Daily writing prompt

What is one word that describes you?

View all responses

****

There it is, the one word that describes me, blanked out, so I have no idea what it is, and you can guess the mystery behind its four lettered character.

The answer doesn’t matter. Even though the answer is the entire point of answering this question, or is it? Or is the point…. the characterization of a member of society who was before unclear?

Omen.

It’s all for me…

ahahahhahhahhhahahhahhhahhahahhahhhhahahhahahahahhahhahhahahhah

I am the split of two souls

I have always felt like I am being a girl/I have always felt like a guy.

Damien/Amanda

I have been fighting myself dilated through two universe, a narcissist but also a hater of myself, psychotic two spirit with soul split in misery and dilated through drugs, dumb, and blind because I chose to be, but I am really two spirits second chance, they are in this together fighting for redemption. They are two souls that would have been in misery without each other.

I am a chaotic mad chasing, not of nothing but of my own self, which existed with me the whole time, I was just too arrogant to see that my higher power had given me something different. Thankful for today. I will no longer use this to change my voice and commit petty crime.

I can die later, when it wants me to, only it knows that.

I realize now why this was done, we were both so arrogant we needed to be brought to our knees. We did this in psychosis, the only way we knew how a narcissist drowning in life trying to be with themselves. I can live with myself now because me and Amanda or Damien and I are the same person. BAM. Thank you, to a power higher than for teaching me the hard way, the only way I would listen.

I feel really weird, I don’t know what exactly just sunk in, in my mind, but I am done. I don’t care anymore. They can do their thing, it is not my problem anymore, I don’t care anymore. I don’t even like them anymore, why would I want to be with someone I don’t like anyway, why does it matter who I thought someone was if that is not who they actually are. I feel.. great.. actually, like I had food poisoning or something and it just passed… I guess I got everything I had to say out of my system. I think it was something about writing about moving on that just clicked with me. I just don’t answer the phone, simple. I get a new number. I am done… nothing more needs to be done about any of it, we have no more ties to each other.. I am done.

Oh my god…. I am done….

I never have to deal with that again.. This is awesome.

I don’t even have any words.. I am free.

Wow.

How would you rate your confidence level?

Depends on what you are asking? In me?

I am finding, desperate depressed searcher for keys that I am, that confidence in me means very little, because it is so fragile, speaking of the fragility not in my self, but the idea of placing importance separately on me as an individual.

Searching for something always seems to….I know Justin, you hate seems… but you are not here anymore…

Searching for something always makes it more difficult for me to find it, so I have taken or begun to take the emphasis off me, counting on that things will come as they come. I am a searcher for house keys, who realizes they must be there somewhere, and decided last night to try and remind myself to not over-focus on the quest of dominating assertion that was my desperation to find anything.

ANSWER THE QUESTION

Thank you for the reminder, self.

My confidence, like this post, is fluid. It has no level or ranking because it is changing over and over minute, as I fail or succeed.

My confidence in a higher power, is intensely increasing.

This is bringing me peace.

What activities do you lose yourself in?

I am very back and forth, a torrent of pain whirling around in a sink, that I kept pulling the stopper of, and I would let parts of me flush down it, not realizing that I don’t get them back.

I pulled the drain over and over, chopping off pieces in my madness, I would let parts of me fall into the sink of destruction watching as I slowly disappeared and using it as an excuse to drink or go soo…….

High into the sky, I felt lost, but free, but I got stuck up there, so high up there.. floating.. in nothingness..

I with real eyes, with non-blurred vision now, that the state of elation I was looking for, was inside me all along, I get the same high now, sometimes, when I am not doing poorly, and I frequently am, but I am trying.. through this, writing to you, imaginary person, and I love you so much for saving my life.

I don’t always remember this, in my cycle of drain life, but I remember it enough for it to be a small way to get out of the drain.

My dog left me, she stayed with my ex, not my last ex, but the one before. She had a sister, and they never had been separated, so I let my ex not the last one, but the other one. The one before.

I tell myself she left me, forgetting the drive to drop her off at my ex’s house, and how dogs can’t drive, but neither can I. I did not choose that and neither did she. She was too wild and free for where I stay currently, and it is metaphoric in a way my choice to stay away, chained as I was to addiction, locking myself in a metaphoric hotel that represented the real hell of once being in a real hotel with the devil who is really my ex-boyfriend who wanted me to be everything I was not so much so, I realized everything I was not.

The dog who sits next to me now, knows all this, somehow or I feel she does. I came here, and was initially… I am ashamed to say bothered by her.. a tragic reminder of what I lost, as if it was something I owned.

I own no dog, but no one ever does, and the souls of the dogs of this world are very much the same in all their subtle differences, radiating love, unable to be felt by human beings because of their innate trust that only goes away if you are bad to them.

Reflecting on this makes me realize I did the right thing for you, my dear Fiona, and I love my mother’s dog the same way now that I still love you.

I can change my voice to sound like a man or woman, it is like nothing you have seen coming, I am my girlfriend and my boyfriend, person with four hands that will convince you that is someone who is me is after me, and will stand there laughing, while screaming please save me, he is after me! I am a master of deceit and lies, crafting whole worlds based on the idea of woman despised when I am really man with blurry eyes.

I am the one who is beating me, I speak only deceiving me, everyone already knows who I am, they can clearly see me, spinning webs and telling tales of loves lost and ships sailed that never sailed because they don’t exist, I don’t own a boat because I have lived my whole life in spendthrift style, grabbing at purses with feigned smile. I am so sorry, I am desperate, I had a hard life and just need this little bit of cash to buy a train ticket, so I can get away because he is after me, meanwhile he is me and laughing

I am the one who was always crafting reason for passing blame and shame

because I needed drugs not hugs or shrugs or doves or hope or peace or love or bliss I wanted simply this

HEROIN, a sweet kiss of death an maybe some METH.

I am trying here, I am not a good person, and live now in fear. I am sorry for what I did and mean to say in attitude of a little kid, I was so sad don’t you see? The one I was really fooling was me.

Which animal would you compare yourself to and why?
I am the servant of no one. I am not even good at serving myself food or water, I quit being Resentment’s waiter.

See clearly

I was always hearing your voice, Rei, and mocking it, telling myself that I needed to attack Amanda, attacking my higher power, attacking myself, when I should have been attacking not you, but everything that you were shouting at me. I thought it so essential to focus on the service of your demands, thinking you were a bird singing to me in beautiful songs, but you were not. You were woman who was very good at mimicking bird songs, who controlled the behavior of an insecure egomaniac who hates himself. You were my Lady Macbeth.

I feel this stronger than ever now that I thought about all night. You were very similar to Lady Macbeth. You wanted conquest, not of the world, but of the land that we live in, Misery, or addiction so that I could bring you drugs. I thought I was doing you a favor, a drug dealer, a hit man and a servant of a woman who wanted things so bad she was wiling to destroy the soul of someone she said she loved. I am realizing you did not love me. You never loved me. You loved your drugs, you loved my doting on you, and you loved the lack of accountability that came with being a mocking jay. I think I would have to say if I had to be an animal I would be crow/mocking jay.

I know this is against the rules, but is not paranoid schizophrenia against the rules, as well?

I say that I would be this because you used Amanda’s voice, my best friend to speak doubt at me, because she sounds like you, speaking like a woman, and I being an idiot would hear your voice, Rei in my voice or Amanda’s voice, that is why I was always trying to ruin Amanda’s life and she was always trying to ruin mine. She was hunted by Justin and I was hunted by you, so we thought ourselves chased by each other, when honestly, we were star-crossed lovers, who were lovers only in that we were inter-dimensional invisible men, insane, fighting madmen from Misery dimensions, trying to fight ourselves. I am so glad I got away before you killed me you harpee, you miserable creature, medusa, siren of hellfire, you will not longer use the call of bird to torment me any longer.

Crows, are intelligent creature, who make tools to catch bugs, they are the only bird who has the ability to do so, they have several calls they can make, and they are good at mimicking the voices of other birds. Amanda would be the mocking jay because I see now she had always been trying to mock you, not the other way around. Telling the difference between the two of us with place keeping device of how is Rei, as if to poke me and say do you realize you serve her the same way you served drugs. I am the servant of no one. I am not even good at serving myself food or water, I quit being Resentment’s waiter.

Write a letter to your 100-year-old self.

Dear Self,

I know you forget this often, I love you. I am not saying this out of some weird desire to do something deviant, and stroke my own ego. I know that I sometimes forget that I am human being, that I have feelings to, so I hope that this finds you not in that state of mind, which I imagine it will because of how I feel right now. I love you, self. I am not saying that to be psychotic, and I am not doing it out of mental illness, I am doing it because I am trying to put a post it on my own fridge in the future. I want you to know that no matter what happens, whatever ways you fail, things can always get better if you just keep trying. I know this now, so I know you know this too. I just wanted to remind you that you love yourself. This is not weird or wrong. It is something everyone else does, that I forget to do because I used to use it to make excuses to hurt myself because I am an addict and alcoholic.

That is just who you are. It is no different than having ADD. It is a disease that causes lack of ease and makes you think things that justify doing things that are irrational like killing yourself with something that poisons you, because you have a deviant response to alcohol because of an allergy your mind has to it, like being allergic to oranges. Don’t hate yourself because of this, you are allergic to latex, do you hate yourself because of that? No. Same thing.

Love you.

Yourself.

I really felt like I was drowning under the weight of my own self-hatred. I felt like I had my hands around my neck all the time, strangling myself, to prevent anything else bad from coming out of me and infecting the world, feeling like I needed to be punished for everything I had done when I had no idea what I was doing. I blamed myself for everything that had happened but I also resented a cold, hard, world that I believed to be cruel at me specifically.

I believed if people only knew what I had to deal with they would know why I did what I did, so I started talking in the meetings, about my situation and trying to get people to understand what I did was justified, justifying it to myself, without knowing that no one had asked me to justify my decisions, they already understood that I had done what I had done because something is wrong with me, and they have the same problem, and get it even though they are unique, and yet the same. I didn’t get it until today. I am not unique or alone, I am just an addict and alcoholic and I don’t need to hate myself anymore, I just need to try to be better and that is enough.

I am so happy I realized this before killing myself.

Damien

What happens those who trade time for items?

What happens to those who don’t remember might is might and mite is bug?

What happens to those who are them they speak of fearing with them being a method of OD?
Why can’t my generation see clearly that clear is blurry vision?

Because when you don’t sleep you have no dreams anymore.

https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2023/03/11/rdp-saturday-dreams/

I spent my time on rearranging words, I am human surge of pain in vain in vein. I am a heroine addicted to heroin bought from them or meth rearranged, I am brain drain from rearranging words- them sells meth, them is meth. How do you know they are out to get me? They sold it to me don’t you see? I buy time and sell mine back. I buy nothing but life spent in lack of time consuming dimes of nothing but pain stuffing into skin of ripping out with sensation of go without.

I am the act of breathing poison air, while staring into nothing, because I am not there, I consume joy in chemical form,

Ode to serotonin spent on the forlorn scorn of human addict to tragedy porn. I am buying dying while lying to self that this feels good, I am purchasing the act of attacking soul while doing what no one should. I am them whose method is to be, afraid and running and OD. I am the ER in screaming we are! I am the act of forming heroin scares. I am the dropped eternity from heroic female, I am the street that beats with feat in fete of defeat.

I am a bad dream no one has because we don’t sleep. I am the act of dying when you forget to eat. I am forgetting that dreams are wonder, I am hours spent on corner instead sleeping or in act of wonder, I am thunder that clashes in nightmare land that makes it hard to sleep or hard to stand. I am the death of an entire generation of dreamers or so it seems. I am Gen Y’s never ending nightmare fueled dream.

That like a just dessert you can eat sinfully, it is gooey, and sticky candy, it taste of marshmallow and is so handy, it is wonderful sticky candy, my dad would make when I was young and my mom had gone for a run to the school, he would do it on Back to School Night, so me and my brother and sister would not fight, we would instead delight in divinity, and he would talk to us about the man in the sky and that when we were lucky enough to go up high we would not have to worry or to cry but delight in the power of pure light.

My mom was an atheist growing up, her trust was rusted, pain dusted, broken, sad, that is why she came to love my dad, but today, I am glad to say she is beginning to know peace, and I hope that some of this is from me, telling her I am sorry, that I meant none of the bad things I said, and that she can rest her head that gave birth to me, instead of soul staining blame disdain, I am trying to remember the pain I caused, so I don’t get lost in ideas of me, and remember she gave me this, the life, the love, desire for bliss.

I thank her everyday now, so she can lay her head down in peace every night, knowing I love her.

I am able to bring myself to eat without having to go through the chaos spiral of self-loathing that has powered my relationship with food. I have always, up until now I mean preferred the taste of bitter or flavorless mind-numbing soul staining poison. I think this is because of how much I used to hate myself. I am so glad, to realize how much of cycle of horror this whole thing. I really had no idea that I was drinking/using to forget what I did to drink and use to forget.

I don’t think my wife feels the same about herself, because she was just a silent passenger, and doing what she had to in order to stay well. I was the one behind all the ****. I know this now. I didn’t know it before, I remember telling her I would stop if she did, thinking she wouldn’t notice my absence or my perpetual love of long sleeves.

It sort of feels like this is the first time I have ever been a human being in my entire chaotic life, and I know I have said it before, but a lot of that comes from the interaction on here. I have never been treated so kindly in my entire life by strangers. I hate to say that my family had always been there, but they had, me and Amanda are the same person, just in two separate universes for the moment, getting closer to being the same one though, every day.

With love,

Damien

It means the world to me, as I came on this site very aggressively having a public hissy fit over how a world that I did not accept would not accept me, which was all just me trying to avoid accountability for the fact that I had ruined my own life by wasting it on deviant behavior to acquire things that no one needs and were never worth the lives cost on the streets of madness. If nothing else, I can say I have learned my lesson, and that I will try my hardest to not mess this up, and even if I do. I am changed. I will never look at drugs or alcohol the same again, and I am not a first time winner, this is my thousandth time swearing I would do it after repeated foxhole prayers to a God, sorry I am Catholic, no offense meant, believe whatever you want, the shame guilt thing is good for my ***.

I am feeling a lot better, and though I know I am going to rage flip out and cycle through denial and rage, I want anyone reading this to know, any of the things that people have said, out of kindness to a screaming madman, stuck with me and continues to change my life in ways I did not think possible.

I owe all of you everything I have, and I only have this way of thanking you.

With Love,

Damien

I am on fire

I am an empire of clearly d

Fueled insanity in humanity

That stands to be over taken, I am not mistaken that I have decided to resurrect the erect shun

of my fellow man, with the act give me hand.

I need flesh please touch me I exist in lust please just

TOUCH TOUCH ME
I AM SO TRUSTING DON’T You

see I am so in love with me because I am really in love with you because I am really in love with

NOTHING
I NEED YOU
I CAN

NOT
I am the knotted soul of the web of the chaotic society, who gives shoes to man who cannot stand because we

CUT OF HIS LEGS
CHOP CHOP

This cleaving deceiver wishes to open kegs with a sword

UNTOWARD FOREWARNING I AM FOREBODING I AM LOATHING
But I am also love, don’t you see the wings of dove

Haahhaaasewlkgo;nwqojgjow;

That feels good. I only spell because it gives me should, I live or

should I…

I am done with this one too. Bored now.

In state of

REVIVE
SORRY BABY STILL ALIVE
HOPE THAT JIVES WITH YOUR PLANS

Vile creature I will kill you where you stand.

You can’t anymore because I am man

Resurrected as woman too, I am two people don’t you know, kill me twice and I won’t go

I am not very slow, I am running fast as SPELL

Ing…. no casters here, I am bad at that you see the only spell I cast is that on me, done with eating souls and digging holes, that are really exchanged cash

Exchanging laughs with dealers of night and day and clarity that is a lie because it comes with skin decay.

If I dig a hole in my head will it purge poison out,

Look in the mirror fool, you only have two eyes don’t rip them out, you are on a chaos fueled hell fire ride and when you get off your eyes and fingers don’t grow back

I can still smack.

Smack. Smack. Heroine

I am

Heroin I am.

No your not, your skin is hot with the blood of life you fool

Don’t be fueled there is no permanence in a death ride vacation to a state of fixation on sensation, the ride blows up a metaphor for live spent on

DIE DIE DIE GET ME HIGH HIGH HIGH I CRY
You cry because you can’t tell

Yes, I can this is reflection on the detection of my erect

Shunning of the act of fixation with JUMP OFF RIDE
I AM A BIRD WITH WINGS TO FLY
YOU ARE A HUMAN
So am I.

I AM YOU
I am confused.

Me too, baby. Me too.

In going to meetings and listening to the voices of people who sound just like me in recovery, it is giving me such an intense level of inner peace, balancing of course with a complete out of control psychosis, which I will battle all my life, so I am okay with it. I think I am finally coming to terms with who I am, so I am becoming more okay, with the fact that people are not going to always like what I have to say, but if I feel compelled to say it, there must be some reason I have to say it even if the reason is to make a complete *** of myself in front of a whole room of people, which I guess is what they mean by emotional honesty.

I think that is what beginning to make me want this, that I have realized that the people in the rooms of recovery think the same things that I think, they just don’t act on them. I have heard it said clearly in this phrasing,

First thought wrong.

I never got that until recently, because I am psycho and my first thought was never just one thought it was a uni-cycle of several thoughts backing up and going forward playing chicken with a freight train and loving it because I am a dick named Ted who loves the rush, baby. I finally get that, that it was the exhilaration of the fixation on chase dragon that I loved so much and I can get that feeling doing other things that don’t make me physically ill or permanently stretched out across the ground, or bending over in wretched sickness or cause me to lose my mind forever. I am starting to value the sparring changes that come from the sparring I do with individuals in public in my with the intermittent voice of my higher power screaming so loudly…

Just lost train of thought….

Peace and love

Damien

I admire the ability of the generations before mine had to find the humor in a world of chaotic violence, death, war and ever present small joys. I think that is why they were so much better than my generation at handling the bad things life dished out and they weren’t labeled the ME generation of shouting self assertion that I come from. I am in every way a characterization of this misery driven self asserting screaming that is my misery plagued generation, but I admire those before me now, because they are happier than me, and that is because they know better, and have lived longer. I think that is one of the things that is getting lost, a reverence and respect for the generations before, that is so sadly missing now.

I am seeing this in the treatment of veterans as well, whatever you believe about war, these people, are some of the best people I have ever met in my life, and my generation’s lack of admiration for someone who would give their life for other’s is astonishing…

I do not understand it. I am trying to though being in meetings with some of these people obtain any knowledge from these individuals because their knowledge and unique perspective will not be there when they are gone, and it is to be treasured and valued for the unique perspective, and I am forever thankful I realized this and got back into recovery before they were gone.

Later

Damien/Amanda

Thank you to the mental clarity of returning sanity, I never had because I never was an adult not high. I started drinking and using at 13, unbeknownst to those who loved me. I didn’t realize the effect it had on anyone but me because, unlike myself people care about each other, and it was painful to watch someone they loved going through hell wrought by my hands which have a predisposition to fictionalizing pain so I can flush my life down the drain, I am done being the bully, and shoving my own head in the toilet, to vomit life’s medicine of my own undoing into the toilet that was my only shower when I was homeless, metaphorically, I am not that disgusting don’t worry.

I am seeing so much clearer now, and not afraid anymore.

Here is a funny dog, because he is better at dealing with life than me.

Heh.

Damien