I watched , yet I could not help you .

Why are you so angry ?

Since that day when it all happened , you have changed. I was there that day too. I watched as you , I felt your pain yet I could not help you I saw all the people , the ones that have made you who you are fell to pieces .

The strong one , the bad chick, the victim, the educated one, the drug addict, the alcoholic, the co-dependent, the 16 yr girl who appears all too often, the compassionate one, the relapse queen who seems to be addicted to her pain.

I watched , yet I could not help you .

What had happened ? Why are you on the floor?

One day turned into two days, and into months .

I could see that were not yourself and in need of help. Hello “new you” , no reply! She doesn’t listen anymore . Shaking my head,  wondering about this new you.

What’s going to happen to me .

I watched , yet I could not help you .

The new you has been sitting in the same spot for months now . What are you staring at ? Is it really so bad that you won’t let me back in to help you ?

Your crying is silent , not to be heard . The frustration and despair only I can see,has now become we.  I watch as you try to manage a simple conversation. Only you and I know that you are not listening , not because you don’t want too.. You can’t.

I watched , yet I could not help you .

The bills are unopened , the dishes are stacked up and the cupboards are empty.

I see you trying hard to remember what day it is, why bother you don’t care . Things that were important , have no meaning for you . There are no appointments in the place that have gone to hide .

I think that you might need some help.

Hello you, it’s always been there, these memories that were so deep. Come get on your feet and let it go. Brush it off as fast as you can, being stuck here in this hiding place is closing in on you. Get up,and let me back in.

I watched you , yet I could not help you .

Struggling with the aggression and resentment. We get together as best as we can. You realize that you have changed . And then the anger came.

Is that why you have turned so hard? Look in the mirror, who do you see?

I watched , yet I could not help you . The reflection looking back at you is me .

Italianeat , A better life

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deep unmedicated and unsupervised

 

 

 

 

And it goes like this

 This is the true story

Or it could be fiction, the kind of fiction that could only be true.

A lot has been said about me, and you can bet your ass people will always start off with the bad stuff.You’re going to hear about that later. But for now I’m on the right side of being wrong. I’m just going to tell it the best way I know how. It so happens I’m talking about bad timing. either I’m always late or later.

If I didn’t answer  I’m not coming.

In this case I should’ve been there two weeks earlier. Okay let’s get to the point it’s about a man, boundaries, lust ( that too) and it’s aftermath .

Or maybe I was just so fucked up at that time everything would have been a risk. I was broken , I was damaged and self esteem was a distant memory.
I’m also one of those kick ass chicks that your mother warned you about.
I’m a drug addict, I ran with the big boys , either on the back of a Harley yep that’s me one of the old ladies. And make no mistake it had its perks.

But this isn’t about my addiction and my ongoing struggles with recovery.
It took some time, I’ve seen the inside of rehab clinics in many different states and countries. I’m happy to say that I’m a recovering drug addict when I am not relapsing . There’s a lot of recovery when relapse is always just around the corner. And you guessed it I’m always on the corner of relapse.  However, lately I wanted to understand why I hurt so bad, I’m damaged and damned pissed off about it.I became very serious and wanting to know what caused all this damaged. You guessed it dysfunctional right from the start. This story is about a lust, passion , desire. and sex.

I can say without a doubt the flying monkey’s have been unleashed .

 

 

                                                                       

                                                                                                                                                      

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Secrets to live by. The 48-hour rule.

Secrets to live by. The 48-hour rule.

I ask myself, “If I had 48 hours left to live , what would I do ? “

It makes you push aside anything that’s not truly important and focus on the things you love and make you happy! I would chose love and happiness over fun and a good night out .

It would take a special man.

A man that just “gets me” accepting my flaws and scars alike . I still have baggage that I’ve been working on leaving. I am not fragile living with shame and regret, drinking myself to the bottom of a bottle. Addicted to a kind of burning pain that leaves you mentally wounded . Trying to avoid the thinking,  highly medicated, and drinking.

Accept me as I am, or watch me as I step in these heels and wiggle my ass out the door.

Broken I am not.

A chaotic imperfect hot mess, definitely!

Inhaling the essence of a passionate soul lost long ago.
Gone is the prison and it’s heavy chains, replaced by walls of boundaries, that will not be crossed.

Settling is not an option.

This was the conversation last night  

I have never really gotten into the online dating thing . I am an addict, I have emotional scars , Behind the smile , there are still moments of great shame and regret.  I understand that I can not undo the past, I now put effort into letting  go.  I assume this will be a on going process.

So there it is .. After waiting a few minutes , I was not surprised when the real person showed up. As the conversation went south,  It took no time for me and my new high heels to wiggle my ass out of there .

As i was looking for a taxi , I ran into a friend that I haven’t seen in many years . Bottom line is the night wasn’t wasted.

Yet, I couldn’t  help but  wonder, what was this guy doing while I was sitting there having the all important first date conversation ? As I recall he played with hair quite a bit, and was playing his clothes every 5 secs..

Lets’ just call it a day and  image that somewhere in there was a woman dying to come out and bitch slap him back to the 80’s . .

Apparently, ” I’m a woman” and and I have “feelings” and those” feelings” are activated through my vagina.

How should I process that shit ? I’m dangerous when I know what I am doing and know who’s doing it to me.

I’m dangerous when I know what I am doing and know who’s doing it to me.

When a woman says “don’t make me go there”, wait 2 mins and she’s there .   I don’t negotiate .

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You’re lips are not listening

Your lips are magic, so full and inviting.
But why are they moving when should be listening?
Why don’t you hear me , I have something to say.
You’re getting comfortable, undoing your shirt , there’s no need for that .
And then I feel your breath so close to my face ,
I have turn away, before I walk away. No you’re not listening,
I can’t save this for another day .

I was a cliche: a bird with broken wings-forever caged.
I never took responsibility for this prison I had built for myself. I
instead I blamed others, the people who had hurt me so much that I had swore I’d never fly again.
I thought that I was trapped by the regrets and the loss I had suffered.
Numbing myself, trying not to look at myself
I closed my eyes to something I did not want to see, This will not define me .
Time passed-slowly.
And one day I woke up. There was no more pain, only a strange sense of relief and understanding.
My cage became a sanctuary as my grip on the past loosened. Time passed again, but I was not so lonely; it gave me a chance to learn about forgiveness.
I forgave those who had hurt me and I forgave myself.Suddenly the pain was gone.

Life became valuable again.
I bow my head, I release my sins . And this I say, Amen.
And then,
I was finally free to fly.

That would be me

“I had a breakdown. I was ( am) totally detached from reality and became numb to my environment. I could no longer feel emotions. What I did experience was shame and guilt as well as intense self-loathing which several times morphed into suicidal ideation. I became afraid of everything. The world overwhelmed and scared me. It was at this time all these horrible memories from my past started rising to the surface. I couldn’t handle the memories and images and the pain they brought. I turned to heavy drug use to totally anesthetize myself. I became reckless, impulsive and developed a total lack of responsibility. I was paranoid and hypervigilant.”

This is how I felt last year and here I am again , minus the heavy drug use and that’s scary. I don’t always feel like me any more, like somewhere along the way I lost myself. I am evolving and changing into someone different, but with some of the same likenesses.

By accident I realize that today is my birthday

So if you see a half crazed happy lady out there making jokes and not having a care in the world, say hi, that would be the old me having one of those rare days.