Jabberwocky
Frumious Bandersnatch
So new member intro, huh…?
Ok let’s do it. I’m Broken..and patched. Some days I feel more patched, others more broken. I suppose the last few years I’m definitely more broken and I only consider myself patched being that I’m still here and slightly kicking. I feel like I have no control and any day could be the day I’m gone for good. I’ll wake up feeling great and usually most of the times those are the days I’ll go downhill faster than a fat girl on a slip and slide, covered in jelly glaze. I’ve had plenty of addictions over the years. From several potent opioids to sex, adrenaline, amphetamines, methamphetamines, nicotine, caffeine, bad decisions, wrong friends, wrong boyfriends, all of which were intertwined and no less than at least 3 at a time. Years back a close family member committed suicide. So young, so full of opportunities. (This isn’t when my career began btw) But I always have in the back of my head since then that I could have helped if I knew things were so very wrong. However I also feel that it could have been me so very easily. Inevitable? Maybe. Better for everyone else? Probably (for the most part) Think about it every day? Bet your ass. What saved me every single time? My kid. Not literally, just the thought that I owe them what little is left of me. Or maybe if I stay I’ll just fuck them up worse? Who knows. So where am I now? In a world that I never thought I’d be in. Depending on another person (not by choice), in an abusive relationship, confused, having so much responsibility with about zero ability to make anything better or control it in any way, frustrated, and overwhelmed. But who saves the day, every day..? My dwindling stash of “get my ass moving”, then the drink to counter the jitters/ help me more to forget the details of my life. I’m slowly but more recently noticing the health/appearance get worse. I hurt, I’m tired despite the fact, I feel how I describe enlarged lymph nodes all over my body. But every time I go X amount of time without it, I notice all over again how bad I was before I started. And god is it bad. Too much to handle. Too much that everyone would see such drastic change that I can’t hide.
That’s where I am. And evidently who I am.
Ok let’s do it. I’m Broken..and patched. Some days I feel more patched, others more broken. I suppose the last few years I’m definitely more broken and I only consider myself patched being that I’m still here and slightly kicking. I feel like I have no control and any day could be the day I’m gone for good. I’ll wake up feeling great and usually most of the times those are the days I’ll go downhill faster than a fat girl on a slip and slide, covered in jelly glaze. I’ve had plenty of addictions over the years. From several potent opioids to sex, adrenaline, amphetamines, methamphetamines, nicotine, caffeine, bad decisions, wrong friends, wrong boyfriends, all of which were intertwined and no less than at least 3 at a time. Years back a close family member committed suicide. So young, so full of opportunities. (This isn’t when my career began btw) But I always have in the back of my head since then that I could have helped if I knew things were so very wrong. However I also feel that it could have been me so very easily. Inevitable? Maybe. Better for everyone else? Probably (for the most part) Think about it every day? Bet your ass. What saved me every single time? My kid. Not literally, just the thought that I owe them what little is left of me. Or maybe if I stay I’ll just fuck them up worse? Who knows. So where am I now? In a world that I never thought I’d be in. Depending on another person (not by choice), in an abusive relationship, confused, having so much responsibility with about zero ability to make anything better or control it in any way, frustrated, and overwhelmed. But who saves the day, every day..? My dwindling stash of “get my ass moving”, then the drink to counter the jitters/ help me more to forget the details of my life. I’m slowly but more recently noticing the health/appearance get worse. I hurt, I’m tired despite the fact, I feel how I describe enlarged lymph nodes all over my body. But every time I go X amount of time without it, I notice all over again how bad I was before I started. And god is it bad. Too much to handle. Too much that everyone would see such drastic change that I can’t hide.
That’s where I am. And evidently who I am.
