Ok, I thought I saw that ‘entertain’ was the word of the day, but the word of the day has disappeared, so who the hell knows. I have been busy with school, and also finalizing my novel – my books sales came to a screeching halt. Most people that bought the book or received a free copy have not left a review. I guess that is just how it goes in the beginning.
Thank you so much to anyone who bought it or picked up a free copy during the promotion. And thank you even more to anyone that left a review! ❤
Love you guys so much for all your support and following. I am still working on Book 2 of poetry as well. Keep your eyes peeled!
They say none of us know what we look like because we never get to see ourselves. A mirror is a reflection; not the real thing. If you feel pretty, when you look in the mirror you’ll see pretty. If you feel ugly, when you look in the mirror, you’ll see ugly. A mirror isn’t a reflection of what you see. It is a reflection of what you think and feel.
So, the mirror isn’t really the miracle at all. The miracle is that you have so much power to shape your world and it all starts with how you look at yourself.
As 2017 comes to a close, I hope that you will reflect on all the wonderful things you’ve accomplished in the last twelve months of your life. True, there may be some things that got sidetracked or even shoved into a dark hole.
That’s fine. Shit happens.
Despite the reflection of me looking back at me not really looking like me, I talk to it anyway. I ain’t easy on it either. I’m hard on people and even harder on myself. I need to be the best me I can be. All these chances I got in life and I’m still here? Yeah…
It truly is miraculous that I am still alive. I should have been dead a long time ago but for whatever reason, I breathe. I can’t just take that lightly.
So, A blessed yule and happy winter solstice to you. It’s a miracle any of us are here, really. Don’t take that shit for granted.
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.
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.
You’ve heard the sayings… “don’t look back” — “learn from the past” — “the pain heals, but the scars remain” — there are hundreds of sayings that talk about the past. Looking back on the past kept me in a whirlwind of sorrow and misery. I would stay there, dwelling and obsessing like a goat over a woolen shirt. I still do it sometimes and then I think, “what the hell am I doing?!”
Feeling sorry for myself became an art as I sat at the bar, drowning my sorrows yapping about my pathetic life (which was everyone else’s fault, by the way).
I used to be hung up on the “why” of the past. Why did this happen to me? Where did I go wrong? Why me? WHY ME? WHY ME?!
The trick for me is to look back, learn and move the hell on.
It’s true, I have learned from the past. I learned that drinking and drugging were transparent band-aids that masked my misery while pouring salt in my wounds. That is a part of my past I cannot forget. Ever. But, I had to get over it… the pain, the sorrow and especially the feeling sorry for myself. How would I do that? After all, I was great at feeling sorry for myself. I was great at sitting in my own crap while I donned the face of misery and self-pity.
I should bother to look back, but only to learn and share.
Grief. It’s one of those things that is hard to let go of and hard to handle. We grieve loss: Loss of people, places and things; loss of pets. But did you ever consider grieving over yourself? I’ll bet you never quite looked at it that way.
Recovery is a rebirth. We come into the rooms, the doctors’ offices and the out-patient programs beaten and broken. We are torn, tattered and abused; looking for something or someone to save us. We’re either meek and mild or loud and brazen. Some of us are a little of both.
When I first got sober I was a little of both. I was kind of shy (especially around women) and I dressed provocatively, stuck with the men, pulled up at meetings blasting my heavy metal. I needed to be noticed. I needed that attention to flip that self-worth switch on inside. Seeking outside validation is classic in alcoholics and I was (still am!) a classic alcoholic. I made all the conversations about me (I was really good at this!). Gosh, I could go on forever!
This self-seeking behavior (definitely a character defect) went on for years until one day…
I got serious about my program. I started hitting six meetings a week. I got another sponsor and actually talked with her and did step work with her. I listened at meetings and even started sharing at some of them. I started hanging with the women, giving my phone number to newcomers and even hung out with these chicks outside of the rooms. What was happening to me?! Who was this woman who stared back at me in the mirror every day? I didn’t know her, but I liked her.
She was different. She didn’t want to wear “hoochie mama” clothes anymore; felt comfortable around other women. She liked the image in the mirror.. sometimes.
Yes, I still blast my heavy metal but I definitely notice a change in me. So do a lot of other people. I like who I am these days. I no longer hide behind the insecure mask of “LOOK AT ME!” I know that sounds strange, but insecurity leads to external validation which is a band-aid that never heals internal wounds.
And I did take a moment a couple of years ago to grieve the old me. I sat down in a park with my journal and nature and wrote a letter to myself. I said, “Goodbye, Old Darlene. There are some parts of you I shall miss, but ultimately, not much. This is my new path, with my new life and a new me. I’m sure you’ll visit sometimes, Old Darlene, and that’s okay, but you cannot stay.”
Have you ever given any thought to an “old you” and “new you?”