recovery
Your illness does not define you. It's your resolve to recover that does.
Unconscious Adventure
The wind blowing above the tippy treetop, shaking the leaves, allowing flecks of sun like confetti to move and remain in place. Baby green leaves, sprouts of life and complimentary smells of manure are all sure signs of spring. A sultry 86 degrees makes my blood push hot through my veins into my heart and then the extremities and back to center, always back to center, circumventing all of my internals, signaling perspiration to collect on my forehead, my breast and the back of my neck, and then the wind is caught briefly twirling in another direction over the grass, like seaweed on the floor of the ocean dancing with affectation, giving into the pressure of the water passing over, like a good dance partner. Here, in this field there is no water, only wind and yet I can’t help noticing the effect is precisely similar from a gust on the tall grass, to the edge where the farmers alfalfa meets a lazily manicured lawn. The in-between where the grass has not been cut, and the alfalfa ceases to grow, this small line of land on maps recorded at the country clerk is so clearly marked but realistically, it is a thin strip of unknown; one foot trespasses, the other safely at home. I straddle the unknown, and this is the place that I dig my hole.
By Whitney Carman5 years ago in Psyche
Thinking in Movies
There was a lot I'd assumed throughout life. It became one of the neater aspects of my diagnosis. I'd been describing myself as mildly autistic, I just didn't know it. I described myself as a "weird boy" and later as "Mildly to Moderately Spicy". "Only 'weird boys' think those sorts of things," or "I've heard about 'weird boys' that squeeze things they love too hard and kill them,".
By The Passionate Autistic5 years ago in Psyche
Becoming Fiercely Vulnerable
Mulch: the shit that makes us grow I am passionate about the shit that makes me grow. A little over a year ago I started a project called Mulch. Mulch started as a place I could be honest and tell my fiercely vulnerable stories about codependency, alcoholism and self-development. Instead of looking at my childhood experiences and my failed relationships as a hindrance, I wanted to look at them as something meant to nourish me, and support my growth. Something like mulch.
By Jessica Jones5 years ago in Psyche
Now
Now, I can’t be around people without completely going somewhere else. I can’t relate and just feel natural and enjoy the flow of being together. I can only think, terrified, about keeping them at ease and trying to appear acceptable and appropriate to them: laughing and scrunching my face up, nearly closing my eyes in a contortion to create the look of a smile, no matter if something is funny or not. When this is going on, every moment is a little humiliation. “I am SO fucked up.” But they will never know what I am thinking. My internal experience is grotesque. Almost every time after I have made another effort to be with people and give it a good effort on the bright side, I feel beaten completely down, drained. I have to just completely escape and medicate to soothe myself from a whole traumatic experience, that I have apparently done to myself, but I have no idea how to not do. I have to eat a tub of ice cream or spend over $10 on a heavy bag from McDonald’s. I have to completely. Drown. It out.
By Emaw Langden5 years ago in Psyche
My life the shit show
ell it all began July 12, 1990 the day I was born. I was brought into the lives of donna,George and Michael, world of pure shit. Before I even get into this I am not bad mouthing people to get sympathy I’m showing you the life that I lived and the outcome. I was a no good since I was really little I guess, my mother already could Already tell because I Till this day I glad I stopped after you she got her tubes tied right after having me so I guess from day one she could tell that I was just going to be a pain in her side.A child hearing all the time if they’re bad after a while the child just gonna start believing that they are bad and start being bad real bad. I was your typical child with hyperactivity disorder, I was treated like I was just this insane little child that had no care for anyone. I was always told by family members that I was a bad child and that is why Nobody ever wanted to take me out or have me around . I remember when we would go for a trip up to my Grammys cabin Up in New Hampshire the whole family go meet up For A week of fun and family time. Bu then there was the not one of those not so Pleasant timeless. My uncle decided he was gonna do some unnatural things to me and Tell me not to tell anybody what he did it went on for two years, my life took the ultimate downward spiral. Two years without single soul knowing till the cat was out of the bag I don’t understand how nobody knew my whole demeanor changed I had a lot of seelf hate , when when they found out I had this longIng for my parents to comeAnd protect me I was stervibg for it, sadly that was not the case, it was December 1997, I was put in my dads car and drove down to the uncles house To Confront him. I am thinking this is where he’s going to get it, all that happened he is gonna get hurt. But was heart broken when the was told was to never have contact with us and stay away from his daughter,I realized that my protectors were Not really my protectors. As the years went on parents allow me to drink with them every time my father will have kind of gathering I was able to try the drinks with him sit right on the couch and have a cup and drink with both my parents under the age of 10. I remember the first time I got drunk I was eight years old it was from Ginger ale and vodka I got so drunk and passed out on pool floaty, not one person gave it a second thought. After that it was the norm drink with my mom and her friend forgetting that she was not only drink with friend but her eight-year-old daughter who got up from the table is stumbled, then it was oh shoot she should’ve been drinking that! well no shit Sherlock. I was still a lunder the age of 10 but my dad‘s bartender, I was drinking screwdrivers at 10o’clock in the morning at the time.I know you might read this and be like oh this girl is just a sob storyShe just wants attention, The answer is NO!! I’m writing this for a girl my situation or a boy to know that they’re not alone. It’s my Life just got worse and worse entering into middle school I was actually allowed to bring Kahlúa and milk inside of a coffee thermos too school thinking about it now I’ll be damned if my kids ever want to think about bringing anything like that school or even drinking, But like I said it was the norm. I was never really invited much on my dad side the family but one weekend at 11 my grandmother brought me and my brother and my aunt vicky and her daughter went down to Cape Crod for a weekend. I remember just had to ask my grandma one time to go to liquor store and she brought us I remember the one I picked out, it was arbor mist Merlot till this day I still can’t drink merlot. The weekend was a train wreck me and my grandmother finished the bottle and I found my aunts vodka stash and finish that too. I got so trashed I still remember my grandmother telling my brother I couldn’t go swimming because ” your sister is too drunk“. I feel like my whole life was a set up to be one big failure, I was a straight alcoholic by the time I turn 16 heroin attic by the time I was 15 in and out of detox till I was 18. Start smoking crack at 19 getting pregnant with my first daughter start shooting drugs again lost my daughter met a drug dealer got pregnant again then had a nice lengthy stay at MCI Framingham. There’s a lot on my life I did not put yes but that’s another time in another story right now I’m just given the brief. But I will get into it if this blows up. I’ve never done this before some part of me feels kind of awkward because now people are going to know The twisted Ness of my life but also now it’s something I get off my chest. A lot of the stuff that I succeeded in my life wasn’t any help by my parents or my family it was hard work for myself everything I know I taught myself. I hope someone reads my story and it hits home in a good Way is you know you’re not alone. I’m a married woman now with four kids, my life isn’t where I want to be right now but with a bit of hard work and dedication I can have the world by the balls, But for now I’m just gonna take it a day at a time.
By Allyson cross 5 years ago in Psyche
