Was doing some cleaning, moving, and rearranging today, when I came across the grey scare lock box... It's the box of my journals. When I was 16 my mom and I burned the ones I had up until then, which was my complete intention.. but some of them caught my interest... It's like watching my mental illness, and my addiction unfold as I was experiencing it. So I thought I would face my past, and share some of them with you. It's ok if you don't read any of them, it's more for me really.... I'm going to keep it contained to hopefully just this post , I'll up date it as I face the journals I didn't burn.
WARNING: Graphic Language and Actual Personal Experiences Below:
In my early twenties ad mist my first meth addiction, I wrote a poem about meth:
The princess bakes under the heat of her maker. The sun of her universe, carefully attending to his supervision till she's reached her ripeness of perfection. Golden is her skin yet still wicked from within. Her touch seemingly innocent and true, burns all she touches with her webs of deception & promises of dreams come true. Life everlasting with all of its pleasures filling you through.
As you look into her eyes you fall deep into her lies. Her first kiss is sweet and tender, and yet not enough. You divulge deeper into her passion offering all you have heart and soul, to make her happy. Feeding into her desires, to ensure she stays. Till finally she has you mind, body and your soul. She owns your every being from deep within.
And one day you awake to find her gone, without a trace. Taking from you all you had given to her. She leaves you with nothing but the need for her taste, her scent, her touch. She’s touched you so deep you weep in fear you shake with anguish, wandering if she's near and who all she has touched. You awake from her nightmare to find yourself on the bottom. Shipwrecked and lost in the depression of her wake. Searching for the strength to fight her power and as you may feel you might have just found it; you look up to her dark brown eyes. Full of sorrow and disgrace. Your heart begins to melt. Feeling for her love, your soul begins to crave for all that she may hold. And just as you believe it’s all ok again you’ve fallen to her darkness, her evil, her deception.
A cycle well lived though, in a wicked circle of your fate looking over your shoulder to see if you still exist. Only one life is that which we are granted. So easily turned wrong by the evils of our passion. So strong we must be to fight the evils in her light. Stand strong within yourself for you are all that you have got, and beware of the man who holds her answers in his hands.
This Another One I wrote while recovering from meth the first time:
I lay here listening to the music we used to make. Remembering the times we had. Tears with the reality of truth. How we faded, I pushed and you denied.
How well we clicked till the definitions of us were made to high. How now, I see you’re with another. Care free as we once were yet with a look still there. Always wondering if somewhere down deep we were still meant to be. Bur for us we’ll never know, not as long as PRIDE holds its name.
When I look back I feel a certain shame. For not fighting for what was mine. And yet not letting go, setting free what was never to be.
That's it for now... This is one of those blog entries that will be updated.
This is one of those pages I found shoved in the box,,, with no idea when, or what was happening...
A Random Rambling:
The answer to life is what I’ve always known it to be: A dark and quiet death. I will not lead a life of disgrace. I will die before that happens. All I ever wanted was to go home and start my life over again. Finally I thought that chance was going to happen. But of course now another hurdle has jumped in the way. Only this one could change things drastically. And if it is totally negative and affects my future then I will die. I would rather have died then disgrace and disappoint my family because of this. The already think I am unstable and they are right. I’m tired of hiding behind my happy mask, so now everyone can see the truly miserable me. No one wants to face the gruesome and little do they know that its me. Writing is the only sanity I have here and my pen is the only company I like to keep right now. I don’t want to deal with everyone’s polite small talk. It’s getting utterly boring, and now all I do is pushy all my friends away from me. I just want to be by myself slowly wallowing in my own self-pity running from reality, running from the truth.
till next time....
More poetic ramblings:
Here I am in a world of under tows. It’s becoming as dangerous as the unleashed high tide of the ocean. If only the physical body could compare to a body of water. Free flowing within or about its limits with no definite definition. Swishing, swashing hi and lo in the current of the waves. The sun warming you as you flow along. The clouds protecting you in your fit of fury, and yet the peace and quiet of the calm. No depression, no disappointments, no pains and no fears, just the beauty of being.
more from my transcriptions later
More for my Journal's, this is the start of dated journals
Monday Nov 4, 1991
I'm home now from Camp Pendleton with Jim. It was pretty ok. I had fun, for the most part. But he will never tell me how he feels about me unless he's been drinking. I love him, I just don't know if he truly feels the same way about me. I would do anything for this man. But I'm totally scared of being hurt. So I get drunk and start an argument with him in hopes that I can push him away. But I don't really want that. So maybe I should quit drinking. I have also been contemplating quitting life in general. I have a day and a method all in mind. It's coming up, but I'm scared to end my life. I want to spend my life with Jim but I'm happy now and scared of the pain that may be laying ahead. So why not end things now while I'm happy? Since I've been contemplating this I've felt much more relaxed and less stressful. Nothing bothers me and may be my last week I can enjoy life for once.
Saturday Nov 9, 1991
Well today is the D-Day for me. But it doesn't look like I'll get the chance to end my life because I'm on a psych ward at Camp Pendleton. I actually confided in my shrink what was going on in my head and this is where he put me. Never in my life did I ever think I would end up on a psychiatric unit. It's pretty weird. I've been here since Thursday night. I hate my doctor here he doesn't help me at all. He downgrades me every time I talk to him, I don't feel like I'm going forward just back wards. My head has been spinning ever since I've been. I'm not sure how long I'll be here. But Cyn came down for the weekend and she's been totally great. I guess I never realized how much support I had from her and her family.
Insert: Now looking back and reading these... this is about the time in my life I started showing symptoms of bipolar.
Tuesday Nov, 12, 1991
I'm still here at the hospital. It seems my whole family knows now that I'm here and they've all called and been very supportive. The other patients are completely supportive, my doctor has even turned out to be okay. I should be out of here soon. I'm having to face the realities of being Bulimic, but it's still not gone away. I'm scared and I've decided to break it off with Jim. The time I really need his support, I'm not getting it, and I can't go through that. Tired now, must go.
Insert: At this point I've been actively bulimic for at least a year now, it has a strong hold on my life, and I've lost control where my eating disorder is concerned.
Thursday Nov 14, 1991
Well I'm now on C-Step and I'll be out of the hospital next Wednesday. My doctor is still kind of a dick but oh well. They now let me eat in the chow hall but I believe that might have been a mistake. I'm really depressed tonight about Jim. Dammit I love him and he has given me no response and I think that is why the urge to purge has hit em. I'm just so confused on what to think, my mind is spinning and I just want out of the and I just want my life to be perfect. But that won't happen. I feel that I've met some good people here but it still scares me. Life still scares me. And I'm tired of my life being on hold for so long. I just want to be home where I can go on with my life!!!
That's all for now...
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When you Face your past. The start of my Journaling