You know those days when you wake up and the great from the sun warms your soul?
Today wasn't that day.
Today I woke up and choked back tears, again,
Today was about convincing myself that my roommate would believe everything is just, fine.
I'm in recovery, and not every day feels like my soul has been kissed by angels.
Some days you just can't catch a break,
Like swimming to a shore that swims away from you,
It's a type of recovery that takes everything I have too.
It's not just about a substance, I've got an injured spirit.
My body wants to shut down most days, my mind screams at my nerves as my parents screamed at me to clean my room,
Both the nerves and I responded the same way, just so nothing. They'll stop asking.
My body is all my family trauma with my life experiences all stuffed into a lumpy shell of a human
Complete with sad eyes and scares on every finger.
This is what recovery looks like. It's not pretty, it's not easy, and it doesn't always feel worth it
I wish I could just smoke a joint, have a beer, or for ***** sake just lift my foot again.
So when I wake up I remind myself that this is recovery, and it's not always pretty. We just keep walking
Mar 4, 2020
Mar 4, 2020 at 12:12 AM UTC
Joys
of
imagined
**** scenarios
Never
having to say
"Sorry".
Jan 5, 2016
Jan 5, 2016 at 9:25 PM UTC
I am a man, at least that’s what I tell myself.
My problem isn’t what *** I am
My problem isn’t my appearance
For those things I am “manly” in each;
It’s just that I am emotional.
You wouldn’t think it an issue being a construction worker
With near permanent dirt under my fingernails because it’s impossible to clean that which has never known purity
A beard to cover the shame and guilt on my face
And a belly that only exhibits my attempts of eating myself into oblivion,
With all of these external anchors it’s hard to admit that I feel.
What if I don’t want to “man up”? What if I can’t right now?
What if I don’t see my broken pieces as a problem but the most confused and mistreated parts of soul that have had to be hidden from you and your judgment?
What if me being aware of the damage done to myself from myself from the fear of you hurting me if you knew what it was I really wanted.
What if I wanted to dance and sing instead of “chase mad women bro?”
Can I still be a man then?
Can I read poetry, dress in a fashion I respect, get whatever haircut the **** I want
Can I still be a man when I am crying, when I’m in pain and an emotional wreck?
Yes, to all the “men” that have literally tried to beat into me that “men don’t cry”
To all of the testosterone driven badass’ who only sleep with America’s Next Top Model
To all of you, real men swing dance. Real men aren’t afraid of what you think
Or what you say or to whom it’s said to too.
It’s taken me 30 **** years to love myself for all my beautifully broken abstract pieces and to understand that they all have crucial role
I am a mosaic of perfectly placed emotions thoughts behaviors and attitudes
Totally and apologetically masculine in my ability to be me, all of me.
I’m ok with being me today.
Jan 5, 2016
Jan 5, 2016 at 9:07 PM UTC
Hell, this day just begun and I'm already done.
I knew when I heard that familiar screech of the alarm,
The cold side of a warm blanket on an empty bed,
And the imprint where "she" had laid only hours before;
I knew then, that this day was already done.
I knew I still had to get up, "attack the day"
Or whatever the hell they say.
Brush my teeth and pretend I'm not the derelict from the night before
Pretend I hadn't done it again
Pretend to be the man I sold her to see.
The truth is my life feels like a snow globe
All the potential spinning round me
Still unable to grasp any of it, still stuck inside this cold, small world
Forced to pretend that what I'm looking for is inside this small world.
I'm lost, there's something so,
So dreadfully, inexplicably, abstact that I'm missing and I'm cavernous without it
Put the toothbrush down and just head back to bed
This day just begun and it's already done.
Jan 4, 2016
Jan 4, 2016 at 9:45 PM UTC
I've only ever wanted to be a part of
But I've found myself apart from
From my heart
From my feelings
From my fears
It's how I got here, the void that is
I've sought you out rapaciously
So much so that I ended up here
Just begging for a taste of life
Jan 3, 2016
Jan 3, 2016 at 7:08 PM UTC