A lot of my memories are blurred. When it comes to time frames and what was happening in my life as far as childhood, schooling, career, family, friends, and environment it is extremely hard for me to keep track. I have found that most of my memories come to me by who I was dating at the time. I tend to remember where my heart was during my life, more than I do the details. This could be by choice, but the details of a young girl trying so desperately to find her place in an ever-changing environment was grueling.
At 19 my Mother had come across my love of cocaine, which I can certainly admit occupied my heart for at least a year. I remember every chapter of that fucked up love story. Mom gave me the option of remaining a coke head and surrounding myself with people who didn’t really care about me, or never seeing she nor my two younger brothers again. Nothing, and let me repeat, NOTHING comes between myself and my brothers. I stood up and looked at my already packed bags and said, “let’s go!”
That month in rehab was the easiest break up I’ve ever been through. No withdrawals for me. I realized quickly that euphoric feeling cocaine gave me, was the same feeling I got getting the courage in sharing myself in meetings. When I looked around the room I came to the simple conclusion that we all just want to be heard. Leaving rehab, I never truly felt I learned anything I already didn’t know, I just became braver. I have never felt addicted to anything. I instead felt a very powerful freedom in being high. I loved how cocaine made me feel less shy and more vulnerable. I feel most myself in vulnerability, a place that people often deter from. Giving up the drug was easy for me, especially with the factor of William and Nicholas not being a part of my life, I would never touch it again if that was my consequence.
I left rehab not being much fazed by it, but excited to move into a beautiful brand new home my family purchased while I was away. Talk about fresh new start! Unfortunately our brand new home contained our same old problems and was crumbling before my poor Mother’s eyes. My Mother and step-father were on the verge of their second divorce in ten years. Again, I found myself playing much more grown up roles than I should have. I had to stand up and help my Mother through another move, another new town, another new way of living.
I find I grow attached to items. Almost like they are living. Especially when I’ve had them for a long time. I’ve been working on this because items are simply just pieces of fabric or plastic. They are ultimately garbage, but little things I’ve had forever, or the rocking chair my Mother rocked me in (hopefully stored somewhere safe) are my history. They are my story. They make me feel “normal.” In the final divorce between my Mother and step Father he decided to lock up our home and throw out and onto our lawn (ass) whichever belongings he thought was necessary for us to have. My Mother is very sentimental like me, we were left with nothing. Our clothes? Sure. But our stories, our history. Gone. No photos, none of our itty bitty trinkets the boys made us over the years, no yearbooks, nada. It was devastating.
I find myself in this new chapter of love and letting go. It seems that when I go through tough times that I am a fatalist. I go to the extremes and I’m guessing it’s because I lived through such high and low extremes throughout life that I just expect it now. I self sabotage. When my cousin and best friend stopped taking my calls, stopped answering my texts, completely dropped me from her life it was earth shattering, mind fucking, and painfully distorted my reality. It destabilized, confused, and manipulated my mind and it lasted many months. I still have no answers. I still hurt, but my mind is back on track and my heart is mending. I’ve been through much more than an unresolved catfight in this lifetime. This, I can handle. I am. During the time Lindsey dropped me I was also falling in love with the most patient man I’ve ever met. His heart is kind, he is gentle with me, but he is logical. He sets me straight. It is refreshing as fuck!
Last night my gentle hero and I had a conversation. He told me that I was “doing it again.” I had been very upset about a personal loss and was taking it out on the one closest to me. I was saying things like, “Why don’t things like this ever happen to you? Why have all of these bad things happened in the short time of our relationship? WHY ME?!” I asked him to leave me be, when all I wanted was him near. He knew, but he let me be alone to teach me a lesson. Lesson learned! Come back hunny!! I realized how deeply I self sabotage with my thoughts when things go wrong. I go DEEP and then I hope to drown. It’s not healthy. I’m working on it.
So, in reading some of the stories I share, know that you are not alone in your pain, but at the end of the day you’re the only one you have, so be kind to yourself. Realize that some things in life just happen and the only meaning behind them is that they happened. It can hurt, feel the pain. Shut the F up and accept it! Look that pain in the eye and say, “you can pass through, but this body is my home and only love resides here eternally.” Know that if you continue to be cruel and see every event of your life as a fatal force of destruction that the only one that will get away is you. You’ll lose yourself and in turn lose your loved ones. Choose love.
Don’t let yourself be the one that got away!