The Things We Crave: Addiction Recovery, Connection & Peace
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I’m supposed to be a resource The source of remorse Has a force that endorses reinforcement of goreish wars Of course my coarse core is forlorn; It conforms And morns the form warm dorms That adorned in storms More torn than scorns I’ve worn Since I was born..
I wish I could endorse what I reinforce
FREE Community Film Screening
The Connecticut’s Women’s Consortium is showing the film, “Making Me Whole: Prison, Art & Healing” for FREE on March 18th
Blood drips from the cysts of blistered slits On a wrist that pissed fits and missed bliss quit When reminisced, the pessimist’s remnant deficit sifts; Though shifts amidst its wits persist This insists to admit the relevant element Of inconsistent assistance for evident impediments… Sentiment and venomous resentment remiss… With this shit’s gist, I desist.
Ambiguity is my foe It goads and gloats the high and lows that I MAY not know It shows prose to those who sold cold holds Though eb and flow grow a mold with scolding folds, I’m told I hold bold tolls from the sole rogue hole in my soul I yearn to let ambiguity go
Today, I Was Triggered
Today I was triggered.
It happened early in the day. I woke up tired, so tired. But I was happy, I was ok. I looked out of my bedroom window. My small bedroom inside of a shelter, where I sleep alone with my daughter. It wasn’t raining, just wet, it was dim and the air looked wet. It looked so comfortable. I blinked, not a normal quick blink, the type that lasts years and years and sends images of memories running through your head. I was in Redding, waking up for school, living with my mom and my brother. And for a moment, without quite realizing it, I became sad, so sad. My eyes got heavy, and my mind became wet with thoughts and feelings.
Then, in the shower, with soap all over my body, the water pressure slowed gradually until nothing came out. I stood there for a few moments, trying to wash the soap off myself with the final, cold drips falling from the pipes. Willow smiled up at me and reached to be picked up.
While we were getting ready Willow began to cry. She whined, and reached, and yelled a few times. She wanted something, but I didn’t know what it was. I made a conscious effort to keep hold of my patience and not become upset with her. We both just felt a lot and needed a moment. So we sat in bed, half dressed, and read a few books and had some quiet time. By the time we were ready, we both felt a little better.
Then, leaving a few minutes later than I intended, I stepped outside. Again, I was triggered.
The air was filled with a smell and a feeling and a look that filled me with a feeling of memory. Someone came from behind me and hit me in the back with a bag of feelings and thoughts and half-memories.
The memories weren’t whole; they were feelings that were happy and sad, and thoughts that were too fuzzy to really be thoughts. No actual memories came. It was a feeling of memory. As I walked, I felt somber. I was also really content. The air smelled so good, and I felt very mindful. I enjoyed the foggy air, and I felt calm and able to observe everything around me.
Suddenly, I would feel sad, or have an intense longing for something, although I wasn’t sure what for exactly. I would look at a building, one I see every day, and it was as if I had just noticed it was there. Suddenly, I would be clubbed with this feeling of memory. I saw the water through the buildings and felt a strong urge to wander. I felt no urgency or sense of time, almost as if I had been suspended into my own universe, within the outside world but separated by a strong sense of awareness. Or something like that.
As I continued to walk, I thought about how I felt, I wrote about it in my head. My contentedness grew into a subtle happiness. I felt so calm.
The wind blew my hair over my eyes and nose. The smell of shampoo filled my nostrils.
Again this wave hit me. No actual memories. But the bodily sensation of being somewhere I wasn’t. The nostalgia. A vague mixture of happiness and sadness. And many thoughts I couldn’t quite place or identify.
Today I was triggered. And I’ve never quite handled it so well, and I’m so glad I was.
Spring is almost here! To celebrate, here is Willow destroying nature. (P.S. I do not pick flowers or disturb nature, someone gave this to us)
TurningPointCT.org was developed by young people in Connecticut who are in recovery from mental health and substance use issues. We know what it’s like to feel alone, stressed, worried, sad, and angry. We’ve lived through the ups and downs of self-harm, drugs and alcohol, and the struggle to find help. Learn More »