Say When…

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What do you do when the tables turn, and you’re more in control of your mind and emotions than you have been in a very long time? What happens when you are so used to being out of control, that the one time you are in control of your mind and your thoughts, it’s almost like you have a second part of you watching everything from afar and thinking separate thoughts at the same time you are thinking your own?

The drive to want and need to be better, to get back to the old me – the person I used to be and the things I used to love – has become so strong it’s started to overpower other things in my life – including the alcoholism and certain emotions. I usually do my best thinking when I am angry or hurt; for some reason it became the greatest motivation in my life. A few weeks ago I had my mother rallying around me, being supportive and telling me she would do anything to help me, that after all this time and everything that’s happened it’s now her turn to help me – I can’t even explain the onslaught of emotions that made me feel and think about. But it was very short lived; I only get the support if I am who she wants me to be. And, regardless of who that is, I promised myself over half my life ago that I would never be who she wanted me to be because I wasn’t even sure I liked who she was. I’m still not sure…

I turn 32 in two months, do you think I have any intention of becoming someone else just so someone can love me? At this point in my life you can either love me for who I am or fuck off, it really doesn’t matter to me anymore. I’m not going to let the negative emotions control what I do or how I think anymore. I stopped doing that a few weeks ago and I refuse to turn back and sink back down into that rabbit hole of depression. There are too many people and too many opinions in this world to do that.

I don’t ask for help very often. In fact, I rarely ask for it. I grew up having to be self-sufficient and figuring things out on my own. I grew up with the knowledge that you cannot just speak your mind for some people will think you’re crazy or just plain change their opinions about you, no matter the past history or connection. So… when I do ask for help and its ignored, or even muted, I go right back to that mentality of “I’m on my own, always have been, so I’ll do this on my own too.” Let’s get one thing straight, when I say help I mean mental and emotional help and support, information about things, – I can change my own tires.

When do you get to the point where you stop everything and rethink your entire life? Now?

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72 Hours In…

It’s been three days. 14844-blue-water-drops-on-a-dark-leaf-2560x1600-digital-art-wallpaper

I’m in a new state, a new home, a new territory, and new surroundings. A new adventure is about to begin – or already has – and I have NO fucking idea how this will end up. My goal; to be a better person, healthy, genuinely better… because who I am now is killing me.

I’m not as scared as I thought I would be. I’m not struggling as bad as I thought I would. But, I have a side of me that takes over, kind of like an autopilot mode. There’s a side of me that takes over and keeps everything under the surface. It will explode one day, I know this.

The nightmares lately are almost too much. I wake up sweating and crying. I wake up panicking and wanting to claw my way out of where ever I am. I wake up terrified and pissed off. I wake up and don’t ever want to go back to sleep, no matter how tired or delirious I am. For instance, today I have been unpacking boxes and trying to set up my new home since 3 am.

The people and the environment here is a culture shock. I have no idea what the fuck I am going to do, how I will be, what I will like, and not like.

I look at the backyard that is now mine, the living room, the kitchen, the environment that I now currently reside in, and I think about how I need to get healthy, how I am lucky to even be here – yet alive. I have put myself through so much physically, I could be a medical science experiment. How do I even function? How do I wake up every day and still am able to live like a regular human being? Of all the times I have tried to kill myself on purpose, I am shocked it never happened by accident.

Self indulgence, greed, pride… these are the things that drive – and inevitably – lead me to my demise. I own my faults. I don’t deny my wrong doings. I am who I am. It doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. And it doesn’t mean I don’t fully understand myself.

Not even I understand the dustiest corners of my mixed up soul…