Yep.. I almost had to pinch myself this morning. I am seven years clean and sober today by the Grace of God and the amazing people he continues to bless me with. Today (and for the last three days) are days that I feel so great inside… inside. Someone commented on my Facebook status that I should be proud. I AM PROUD! 🙂 Holy hell, if you would have known me seven years ago you would have went screaming into the sun, moon, stars… whatever. The point is, I was an ugly person.. not because of my physical appearance (although this day seven years ago I wasn’t looking too hot) but because of the person I was inside.
I took so many hostages, lied to so many people and used anyone and anything to get what I needed. It was all about me and fuck everyone else. Even after my first couple weeks not picking up a drink or a drug, I was still like that. Getting sober for me was about more than just putting down a substance. It was about learning a new way to live.
Thanks to God, my program and the amazing people who God has put in my life I am living a new way; an easier, softer way which in essence, is hard, gratifying work.
Yes… I finally deactivated my Facebook account. I’ll tell you why. Because a person like me should not be on a thing, succubus, demon .. whatever you want to call it. It is a huge time suck that frustrates and upsets the hell out of me. I was on there today and thought, ‘Why the frig am I torturing myself like this?”
I have a body image problem and being on Facebook does NOT HELP. Seeing all my boyfriends new recent friends that are female DOES NOT HELP. Airbrushed images of almost nude women posted by groups and friends does not help.
All of it hinders me, makes me feel bad about myself and then I isolate and rerun old tapes in my head about “why I am not good enough.”
It’s bullshit. I don’t need it. I don’t want it. So I am on a Facebook Hiatus indefinitely. I will definitely be blogging more! I landed an internship with a Philadelphia online music magazine so I am stoked about that! I sent my novel to an editor and am still writing for brutalism.com.
I have way too much positive, substantial stuff going on for myself. I refuse to ruin it for me. And since I know me these days (like really know me) I know what makes me happy, sad, jealous, confused, angry, etc… so I am off to work on that and stay away from one of the triggers.
Peace out friends!! You’ll be hearing from me a little more in the near future.
God willing, I will have a 7th Anniversary of being clean and sober on May 26th of this year. I haven’t been blogging consistently, and I am truly sorry for that. I have so much stuff going on in terms of kids, other writing obligations and “life stuff.”
But for now, I am going to focus on the writing aspect of my life. Pull up a chair and a cup of your favorite beverage if you wish.
I started writing around the age of nine or ten I guess. I remember writing my first book report about “The Tell-Tale Heart” by Edgar Allen Poe in grade school. I fell in love with the story, and Poe, and looked forward to writing more book reports (yes I was a geeky child)! I started keeping a diary and wrote silly little stories about my friends inside.
As I grew and matured (using that term loosely), I stopped writing unless it was a letter in school to one of my BFF’s or a boy.
In my early twenties, I actually wrote my first novel. It is unpublished to this date and only a lone printed, bound copy remains. Most of that novel was written while drunk because I inherently felt I could only write when I was chemically altered.
Fast forward about four years and I decided to go to college at night as an English Major and wound up switching my major to Behavioral Health with a focus on addiction for the rest of my term. Ironic.
So I wrote off and on, off and on for a number of years. I kept many journals and diaries both hard copy and internet bound. I wrote a lot of poetry. Dark disturbing words (again always drunk and angry) I wrote steady over the course of a week. I wrote about 130 poems in those seven days. That is floating around somewhere as well.
I even had one published in a local newspaper!
Here it is:
Reality and fantasy, truth and lies.
When I’m awake I forget real, and fantasize.
When I speak my mind, I speak it well.
When I talk back, I listen even better.
When I hear other voices, I try to ignore.
Don’t tell me what to say, don’t tell me what to do.
I’m done listening to you; all you speak is tainted.
I’m stained with lies, marked by deceit.
My eyes are wicked, my grin is cold.
You look at me, but you can’t look long.
You’re so weak. Ha!
Try to tell me you’re strong.
I laugh so loud inside, you can’t hear me.
But I can.
Reality and fantasy, I like to fantasize.
Reality is too much for me, I like my peace.
I like to be alone whenever I can.
So no one hears my whispers as I answer myself…
Again and again.
That is my first official published piece of anything. I remember how excited I felt. My mom got a bunch of the papers and framed a copy of the poem for me. That copy sits on my dresser today and I look at it sometimes because I get caught up in life stuff and my dreams slip away.
So that’s it for me… for now. Hope everyone is doing well.. maybe you’d like to tell me what is going on in your neck of the woods? I’d sure like to hear about you!
I have always been a thinker… more like an over-thinker. I get something in my head that is pebble sized and before I know it there is a black boulder sitting in my skull that I want to smash out. This doesn’t happen as much as it used to (which is scary, because it happens more than I like) and sometimes when it does, I get sucked into that damaging moment and my program goes out the window. I don’t think about drinking or drugging because I have worked a solid 12 Step Program… but I guess, as much as I hate to admit it, I am human after all.
God has never given me anything I cannot handle. Sometimes I try to handle the hurdles alone, and that is when I find myself sobbing in a little ball on the couch or my bed. A light starts to glow in my head and I realize I need to pray, call a friend and journal.
IN THAT ORDER.
In the last couple weeks I learned that free write journaling does more damage to me because (and someone said it in a comment on my blog) I kinda get locked into that whiny, poor me thinking and get no reflection work done. If I pray and talk to someone before I journal, I can focus on a solution instead of staying in the problem. Which, honestly, my thinking is the biggest problem. I get really worked up over dumb stuff because sometimes, that little eleven year old voice in my head chimes, “How you feel does not matter, Darlene. Shut your mouth and stuff it down. Stuff it down!”
I cannot stuff it down. Also, I cannot go running to whomever I am upset with and start bitching about all the shit they did that offended me, hurt my feelings, made me angry or whatever. This is not a good idea. When I try to communicate to someone before I pray and talk to another sober individual, my thoughts come out of my mouth like verbal vomit.
The gift of interpretation is amazing in my life today. Instead of fearfully viewing an event as potentially hazardous, if I am in a good place, I can step back and sort the facts from the thoughts and go from there.