A Beautiful Mess

A Sexual Abuse and Addiction Recovery Blog

Rock Bottom Has Arrived

It’s been a while since I have blogged.  I thought I had a grip.  I had a great relationship, a pet, a home and thought I was going to be on my way to the alter at some point.  I was dumped.  I relapsed.  I want to justify the relapse and say how it really wasn’t that bad and he should have stood by me during the hard times if he loved me the way that he did.  Long story short, he didn’t and I was on my own.  He was a vicious monster and changed the locks, talked a lot of shit about me and left me high and dry (no attempt at punny, but it happened).

My “mom by love” was sick of it all and she’s not one for having me stay at her house so I needed to make decisions quickly and the decision I had made was to move to Florida with my cousin.  That was a knee jerk reaction and a decision that was made in a highly emotional mind.  It wasn’t her fault for rushing me, but mine for not just sucking it up and going to the shelter and “putting my big girl panties on”.  I’ve been avoiding this bottom by reaching out, doing risque activities and just doing whatever I could to avoid anyone knowing how shitty my life had become.

Florida was great, but I really intruded upon my cousin’s life and was pushing boundaries.  I didn’t mean to push the boundaries, but my cousin’s trauma that she has dealt with in her life is just pushed to a corner of her mind that she doesn’t visit.  She has left it behind and doesn’t wish to unpack that box or revisit it.  Where I find it healing and soothing to discuss such things.  My social anxiety took over and when she said she was having 3-6 people over for Easter, I could barely breathe at the thought.  I have anxiety, but on the holidays it’s much more intense than any other time of the year.  I ended up running back to where I just ran from due to familiarity.

I wanted to write this eloquently, but right now, this is just a reminder of what I went through for myself to read later.  I relapsed hardcore when I came back from Florida.  I started out great.  I was in Milwaukee, half ass getting my shit together, when all of a sudden I had a great idea to run to Green Bay quick … score and then leave.  Should have been maybe 30 minutes in town and then back to my safe place in Milwaukee.  I ended up staying days in Green Bay, spending all the money I had and leaving my shit in the hotel in Milwaukee where they had to pack it up and set it aside.  Medication and all.   And to add insult to injury, I had borrowed my car to my dealer who wasn’t giving my car back.

During this time, a very popular website I was using to try and get on my feet was shut down by the FBI and my means to get “fast money” was abruptly stopped.  I had to make an exit from the place I was staying, with the dealer, because the environment was getting extremely hostile.  I ended up having to call the police on myself who then took me to the Crisis Center.  A great friend and his wife let me stay at their house for almost a full week while I almost ate them out of house and home.

April 30th, I will be entering drug treatment.  I just pray that between now and then I can stay clean.  Tomorrow, I head to the homeless shelter.  Life is uncomfortable and everything feels so out of character, but that’s a good sign right?

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Hard to Fathom

I’m still in recovery.  I’ve come to terms that it’s highly likely that I will need to see a therapist and/or still attend meetings for the remainder of my life.

What’s different at this point is… I have forgiven all who have harmed me.  And by doing so, it’s allowed me to move on from my past.  The anger, sadness and resentment were all poisons to my soul and not allowing me to be present in the moment.

I’ve finally found a place in recovery that I can call home.  It’s been a struggle because when I moved back home, the options were rather limited.  And after having the The Healing Center for two years while living in Milwaukee, I was disappointed with what little was available to me.  For me, tough love doesn’t work.  I experienced tough love for many years of my life, particularly my childhood, that it actually drives me to want to use.   I need a more compassionate environment to thrive.

For years, I denounced the idea of NA.  I thought that their approach to God indicated that I’d be sitting in a room with a bunch of people trying to convert me.  That is so far from the truth, it’s ridiculous.  Within the NA circles, God is very personal and the members respect that.  I can only speak on my experiences with the program in the little time I have been participating, but I’m ecstatic.  I need a spiritual awakening.  And to be able to do that on my terms, with people who have been in my shoes and have that guidance is nothing short of a pure recovery decadence.

In addition to going to face-to-face meetings, I have found a wonderful online community.  The people in there are wonderful.  It’s a great alternative to face-to-face meetings although we haven’t figured out how to hug through the internet… lol.  I really do miss the hugs!

I’m on Step One.  I have 15 days clean.  I am feeling excited, scared, thankful, grateful, overwhelmed and relaxed.  Quite the mixture of emotions, but I’m hanging in there.  Just for today.

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Sometimes Society Makes Me Mad…

This whole situation with Janay Rice and her husband is disturbing.  The act itself was so saddening, but reading the comments of everyone on the internet just makes my heart break inside.  She’s a gold digger, she’s stupid, she’s dumb… this is the vast majority of what I am reading.  This lady is a victim of domestic abuse… plain and simple.  Her thinking isn’t clear right now and while everyone on the outside looking in is casting some pretty horrible judgment on a young lady that needs help… desperately.  The further abuse from society itself can only further push this young lady into an even darker place.  I believe she’s scared.  I believe she’s confused.  But I don’t believe that because she stays, that she deserves it.  HE is the one with issues… and yes, she has some, but to be judged and condemned by society in the manner that is taking place is so wrong.  I wish I could block any and everything to do with this on FB, because I’ve been drawn to the comments like a moth to the flame.  In my own best interest though, I will stop reading them.  Nothing good can come of it.

 

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Healthy Relationships

Today is my first day of my group at the Sexual Assault Center here in my hometown.  It’s my first chance to continue my healing journey since moving home from Milwaukee.  The theme of the group is based on healthy relationships.  I definitely can use that!

Next week, I get my toes wet with Life Skills classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays.  It’s the intro to the year long program I signed up for.  It’s strictly for women and that’s good.  Most treatment centers and programs were concerned about my sex work and my sex trafficking issues causing triggers for male members.  My hometown has always been kind of a conservative, blue collar type of town, so I guess I’m not shocked by their referrals, but it kind of worries me given the fact that most of the counselors, psychologists and etc., don’t have much experience in this due to the fact that there isn’t much going on in this town in regards to that.  Caught me off guard at first to be thought of as being a trigger for other members, but sex has always been kind of taboo in this sleepy town of mine.  It’s part of the problem, to a certain degree.  Sometimes I feel like it’s silencing a huge problem that’s going on.  Sleepy town or not, these things happen everywhere.

Three positive things today:

1.  Had a candid talk with Dad on the phone

2.  Met with my one-on-one and she lit a fire under my butt.  Kind of scared me a bit.  Sometimes that’s a good thing.

3.  I applied for 2 jobs and have my resume all done.  4 different styles.  5 of each and on good paper, too.

4.  I have my first group at the new healing place and it’s less than an hour!!!

5.  I listed four positive things, instead of three 🙂  Five if you count this one!

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Disarray

My life has been completely out of control lately and it seems that the only one who really knows this is me.  I have learned how to lie and how to keep things a secret so much more now.  It makes me sad that I’ve gotten so good at keeping those close to me out of my craziness.  Inside I am screaming help me… but no one can hear it.  I nearly broke down in tears today when I saw the proud fathers walking their small children to the bus.  I don’t know what it was, but out of nowhere I could barely breathe from trying to not feel whatever it was that I was feeling.  I’m missing out on life.  I’ve missed out on so much.  There will be a time in my life when I will regret all the time I never had with my family because I was too busy entertaining my addiction.  I’m scared inside.  I’m dying inside.  But no one knows…

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Freedom of Choice – Victim vs. Survivor

“Being a friend to yourself means believing and treating yourself in ways that are consistent with your belief that although we are victimized in life, being the victim is a free choice. We are free to choose.”

Sana Johnson-Quijada MD

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Respecting the Process

It’s been a while since I blogged.  So many wonderful things have happened.
For one, I am now employed FT and kicking major booty in the performance department.
I actually have health benefits… WHOA!
I have met some wonderful new people at work that I am starting to consider friends.
I am super flippin’ thankful!
Now with all that being said, it doesn’t mean that it’s all peaches and cream.  I’m still struggling.  I’m still fighting a daily battle to love myself unconditionally.  There are times that life is not what I want, but yet what I sadly choose.  I don’t beat myself up for choices that are not good for me, but I do realize that they are indicators.  Red flags that something must be put in check, because I know what a slippery slope things can be.
I am learning to respect the process, though.  I understand, fully, that my transformation into who I was and where I want to be is going to take time.  As they say, Rome wasn’t built overnight…

All in all, though, I’m still surviving and at times… even thriving.

Keep on keeping on and don’t lose patience or understanding of the journey.  It’s not quick and easy.  It’s hard as hell.  But I respect the process and I acknowledge that I am taking steps in the right direction.  Even though I may stumble, it’s that I get the hell back up that matters.
“Illegitimi non carborundum.”

((Don’t let the bastards grind you down.))

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In This Moment

My days are filled with sadness and sorrow.

I looking for unicorns, glitter and better tomorrows.

My choices are my own.

But it’s like I don’t even know myself in certain moments of time.

It’s like some other person, thing or energy overtakes me

and sings me a lullaby.

It makes me feel weak.

It makes me feel inadequate.

It makes me feel humbled.

It’s like a wild roller coaster ride that I’m in the passenger seat.

I feel like I don’t know me.

But as soon as I think I am starting to learn,

the roller coaster starts all over again.

I won’t give up.

But this shit is not easy.

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A Poem For You, Mom

Every morning I miss you so much.

It’s like I can’t accept this moment your gone.

My mother, my nemesis, my worst enemy.

We could have had more if only you’d see.

I don’t know when you stopped caring,

or if you ever did.

All I know is, your gone.

And what could have been,

will never be.

 

 

It’s like I feel this immense weight on my shoulders.  She perpetrated abuse against me in a multitude of ways.  Her death just finalized things and what I always thought we would be, never was.  She never did come around to be my mother.  She just stayed an addict.  She completely chose men and drugs over me.  I understand that she came from a horrible background and was abused herself.  But never once did she ever even try to quit or even contemplate it.

 

It’s so hard for me to accept the fact that our relationship was all it was.  I cry daily over her death.  The closure that I got from this was most certainly not what I ever imagined.  It hurts like hell.  It’s been 9 months but it seems like I’m grieving so much more lately.

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What Healing Looks Like To Me

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