I want to get the junk out.
Im so tired of carrying all these sick secrets around.

When I was 7, I was molested by my priest. More than once. And I told myself that it was my fault....why would I continue to visit him after school when he molested me? And I never told a soul. Nobody. I figured it was in my past, and I'd lock it away where I would never have to look at it again.
Sick secrets that make me sick.
I was raped by a friends boyfriend at 15. Again, it...

(maybe if I type about it, it will lose some of its grip on me)

Ok, so I asked a friend in AA yesterday about my sponsor dilemma.
To make a long story short, I no longer have a dilema.
Ive committed myself to asking Lou to be my sponsor.
But since my "dilema" has been solved....Ive been walking around all fearful. Im acting kind of irrational now that I think about it.
Stuffing my face, even though Im not hungry. Not answering my phone because...

"Them" is anyone who is ticking me off these days.

Im sorry the laundry isnt done...I was out grocery shopping.
Im sorry there is dust in the house....I focussed instead on getting the dishes done.
Im sorry the bathroom is a mess.....I went to a meeting instead.
Im sorry I am unemployed right now....its all I can do to get out of bed everyday.
Im sorry your dinner is a little well-done.....I was on the phone with my sponsor.
Im sorry you...

Im a little out of sorts this morning.
Im having trouble even figuring out what its about.
I kinda feel like a beautifully wrapped gift......but its a trick. Once you rip off the shiny paper and the bow...the box is empty!

My whole life, the only positive feedback Ive recieved is about my looks. As a kid, I was told I was lucky I was so pretty because I would have my pick of men (presumably to "take care of me:").
My looks were something that opened...

At every meeting I attend lately, the same subject seems to creep its way in....and I finally get it. Ha....maybe the reason this subject keeps coming up is because I need to look at it....to sort it out, to come to terms with it.
That subject is suicide.
Ah...even that word makes me hang my head a little....makes me shudder, thinking how close I have come to just ending it all.
I used to look at bridges...fantasize about bridges, dream about bridges. One little jump and the...