brigadier

to my much-shortened biography.... some days I wish i could revert to my innocence, to change what i have done. god knows my wishes, but also knows my needs. and now that i know my HP is here to protect me, i can tell my story. in the following words, i mean not to brag, war-story, or victimize myself, only to tell the truth. here is a small excerpt of the poem that is me.


i am eloquently bent, a tabooed fool, cesspool obsessed. i knew about two years in that i had a problem with life. i did have home and social problems; i was drinking from conception to three months in the womb, raised in a poor community with a single parent, both parents chemically dependent, raped at a young age, diagnosed with depression and anxiety.
to make it short, i did not have prefferable statistics. however, not to apper in self-pity, i soon turned those insignificant misfortunes into a big problem. hooray! (: i was not able to realize it was those darn drugs! but seemingly, everytime i attemped to shuffle things into a pretty little line again, i was uncapable. i was failing at living; only existing became my daily aim. i was desperate for somebody to notice and reach out.
they did, of course--i mean, who can ignore an pretty young girl overdosing in the Walmart parking lot? i went to treatment, but did not truly (nor truthfully) respond to the groups or private sessions. i felt...like a cloud. everyone saw me when they looked up, but i was too waifish and insignificant to be taken into account. so they kept their heads down and the blinders on. i went to treatment after treatment. i painted my face and dyed my hair religiously. i starved my body and mind. but...boys paid attention! i was the IT girl. i loved that. i could ask, and halleleujah, i recieved! this made it very easy to get any drug or drink i wanted.
the only time i remember conciously reaching out is after being raped by a childhood friend on the beautiful night, Fourth of July. i cried to my mother, and she did the best she was able to. we pressed charges, but after four years without much investigation, it has seemed fairly unworthwhile. i started cutting around this time as well. being a target of daily bullying at school, my jagged but superficial wounds were a ready bullseye. my english teacher, who i am still grateful for to this day, set the ball in motion for me to get counseling. i was overwhelmed with all the attention and quietly freaked out. i was hopeful, but did not have the drive nor the spiritual connectedness to be able to recieve it. i continued to ride on the snowball that seemed to grow and accelerate at exponential speeds.
i flirted with many chemicals. to me, today, it is not important, but for the purpose of recording history-i will be specific. i started drinking the night of my rape at thirteen, pot on my fourteenth birthday, duster and other inhalants that same year. i dabbled with many things in my sixteenth and seventeenth years--mainly Fentanyl. duster and Fentanyl became my most apparent devils. when i began smoking Fen at sixteen, i was fresh out of my fourth treatment center. i relapsed on drinking, and with the aid of the same girl i relapsed with, i progressed to Fen.
it wasnt the first time i sold myself, but it is the times that haunt me the most. my main connection was a man in his fifties. he was constantly drunk and lived alone. i told myself i would never sleep with him, but the concept is the same. he called me his Wifey and his Red, referring to his late wife who i apparently resembled, and my red hair. (i think i was in my 'Ariel the mermaid' phase (: anyhoo.) i scored as much Fen as i could, as well as pot. i slept with plenty of men; over thirty is my rough estimate. i rarely paid for my drugs, but when i did, it was with stolen money. sometimes, i earned my own money in an effort to save for my future. it was fruitless.
i made it on papers when i decided to run away for a couple days. i made it into a dismal vacation/excuse to use as much as i could. i started to hallucinate and become extremely paranoid, so i decided to go home. i ended up arrested for the first time and in jail! how could those cops have the gall? anyways, i kept giving them opportunities to track me down and/or arrest me. i got a few petty thefts, seatbelt violations, open containers, failed UAs, and curfew violations. when i got my DUI, however, they expressed how tired they have become of seeing me in jail and giving me breaks. being newly seventeen as well, they charged me as an adult. so, i decided to go to treatment yet again to potentially get it off my record.
this last time, i went to the state hospital and stayed for three months. before going, of course, i had to give drinking one last swing and drove again, drunk. it was like shock therapy--i realized what stupid things i had been putting myself through! i mean, i drank to the point of alcohol poisoning after a liter of vodka, got a DUI, and still went back to my vice... it clicked. i entered treatment with a feeble but glimmering hope.
i wish i could say i am fixed. my snag is that i often strive to be perfect. this means i work hard and dont give up, but i tend to push myself hard. i used to check my apperance every time i walked past a reflective surface. (oh, vanity!) i have had asthma attacks from working out so hard my lungs couldnt take it. i still dont internally accept any score on homework under 90%. i dream, though, to use my various talents and succeed. i want to go to college after i graduate this year. i am considering many fields, including CD counseling, criminal law, culinary arts... maybe i'll be a famous author someday, or tattoo artist. who knows. i can't help but to dream these days; to begin to build my youthful fantasies. i will be here for you, too, because while i am young, i am not unaware of others' struggles. i hope only that mine have been worth it, and will present a viable example of what addiction can and will do to a life. dont forget i love you, regardless of how unlovable you feel.

Dee74

Welcome to SR Brigadier
Based on your writing skill, I'd maybe go for the author...

it's good to have you here

D

Lyoness

Welcome to SR, brigadier. You indeed write eloquently and well about your life experiences. You also clearly have a big heart. I think you can do whatever you set your mind and heart to do, helping people will obviously be a part of it. First you have to take good care of you. Keep at it and you will soar!

I look forward to reading more of your posts.

hypochondriac

Welcome to SR Brigadier And thank you for sharing your story. I am sure SR will be useful to you. As a side note, I love Matisyahu! I have never come across anyone else who had even heard of him before so, yay x

Aborigine

Welcome, keep working on yourself. Everyone here are VERY supportive and can be helpful if you're honest.

brigadier

ive never met anyone else that listens to him him either! thats awesome. and thank you very much!