VOLCANIC BREEZES

I am the calm in emotional chaos

The reason in illogical thought

Insanity revolves around me

In this cycle where I like to be caught

 

I thrive in self destruction

In a whirlwind of ideas and fears

Masked in normality and function

Practiced and refined for years

 

A volcano with occasional eruption

Quickly taken back to control

Molten lava burning

Under the surface taking its toll

 

The rock quickly formed

To cap off the steam

Beautiful blackened landscape

Or so it would seem

Carefully maintained with information

Moving on with shifting plates,

Back and forth appearing natural

Secretly eroding layers grate

 

The wind picks up again

Appearing a gentle breeze

Hiding the swirling waters

Whirlpools far out at sea

 

Approaching shore with more power

Welcomed by earthly shifts

The volcano no longer dormant

Explodes as the whirlwind whips

 

The meeting of chaos familiar

Calm in the molten steam

Flowing like there will be no damage

Searing aftermath unseen

Let the charred remains crumble

Leaving behind a canvas of renewal

The scene left to be filled again

This time with spirit as fuel.

FUNCTIONING and ADDICTED

I’m not suicidal, but killing myself

I can handle my challenges

Yet I keep them on a shelf

I am happy and grateful

And still I use

I have a good relationship

Full of abuse

I am open and honest

About hiding and lies

An addict who functions

As her spirit dies

Written in active addiction.

So grateful my addiction journey brought me to recovery, narcotics anonymous and a healing of my spirit.

images

 

PIECES OF RESILIENCE

I stand to look down at myself

Viewing a figure shattered on the floor

As I reach for the pieces

I fear cutting myself more,

There are shards too sharp

Do I add back in?

Jagged corners ending,

Twisted edges begin;

 

Some best left where past belongs

Segments in puzzling placement

Challenge like tiles of mah-jongg,

Some fragments so small and fragile

I fear they will be lost

The sheer project of reassembly

Brings a thought process to exhaust,

Temptation to simply sweep it up

Toss everything in trash

Turn away and run,

No stopping till next crash,

 

Then nothing left but sediment

Where only filth would remain

This is not an option

In it nothing but shame and pain.

Instead look back at the pieces

Find the ones that fit,

Tenacity and courage

Only segments with spirit

Faith, hope and courage

Wisdom, gratitude and grace

Each of the virtues

Will fall into their place,

When allowed to be put together

In a mosaic of light

To reflect and glint things lost

In the darkness of the night,

 

Day breaks again

And everything worthy is still here

Just disassembled in a disconnect

Parts polarized with fear

Slowly in a process

Where progress sometimes goes unseen

The particles will come together

With resilience in between

Authentic and with practice

Peacefully allowed

One connected  masterpiece

No longer hidden In false shroud.

REINFORCED LOCKS

Let me in, I’m knocking gently at your door

I am waiting for you and your need for more

Turn on that switch and unbolt the lock

Let me come in, I just want to talk

About my power and your self-doubt

The bottled up emotion you deserve to let out

I will take it and make everything alright

Remember me? It’s easy, I’ll help you lose sight

I will hold you and take you away

We had good times, come on out and play

Where I can distract you from life, from family, from friends

Open up to me, I am the familiar descend

I am pounding at the door now, just open it a crack

Let me in for a moment, then get back on track

I won’t stay long, just a lifetime I intend to cut short

Come on just one puff, one line, one snort…..

 

Go away demon, leave me alone!

Don’t knock, don’t write, don’t call on the phone

Looking back is opening the door to death

Of spirit, of connection, of body, mind, breath

Come any closer and I will scream

Help will come running, the NA regime

Be sorry you ever knocked at my door

For now I embrace recovery hardcore

The locks are secure, the fortress is tight

Make your retreat, you won’t get in tonight.

MY WINTER

Snow begins to fall,

As a cold wind blows,

My lungs exhale

And the frigid air shows.

The smell is familiar

And seems like a friend,

The dizzying spiral,

I can’t yet let end.

The welcome escape

in a heavy buzz,

Wrapping like a blanket

Whose warmth always was,

Right around the corner,

Waiting for me,

Something I run towards,

When I know I should flee.

I hate the winter and

I wish to reject snowflakes,

But I’m caught in a shiver,

Not sure what it takes,

To warm myself,

And accept the season’s change,

To take in the sunlight,

And allow things rearranged,

To inhale the warmth and

Let it cleanse,

Go with natural current,

And follow its trends.

60 DAYS AND WHAT I AM REACHING FOR

I wrote this in my journal at 60 days clean from substance use.

It felt terrific this morning to attend a 12 step meeting and feeling the support and love in the room was a great way to start my day. I am exhausted, however, and moody and tempted. I feel tremendous resentment presently toward my addiction. It has been a long week. My emotions are sneaking up on me like never before. I dealt with a grief filled anniversary on Tuesday and realized I have never faced these things without a substance to escape to. I am not comfortable being unable to hold back tears when sharing the story of losing my Dad. Its not that I don’t show my emotions, I just do it with a control I am not feeling presently due to the nature of early recovery and emotional instability. I was 18 when he had a massive heart attack and shockingly died. I made all the calls to family and friends with strength and ensured I was there for my mother and my family.

This is how I deal with things, by supporting others and for the most part denying myself. I have carried that practice throughout my losses, of which there have been many. I had a funeral home director tell me he should not know someone so young so well. It is now many years later and I view the first losses as preparation in regard to handling more. The ultimate loss of a baby, was something I was convinced I could not live through, but by that time I understood how to experience and move through grief. It was the single worst experience of my life. I chose to deal with it alone and knew I had to truly feel it and move through it, giving to myself the courage I had previously given to others. I needed to do it alone because I believed that was the only way I could really open up to what I was feeling. I have faced loss with strength and grace, but at the same time alone and with substances to soften some of the pain when I chose to escape for a moment. I realize now choosing substance over the compassion of others was false.

My heart still has empty spaces for each person I miss, and for me I wish they did not have to move on before I was ready to let go. I believe, though, they were a part of my life for the time that was meant to be and I hold the beautiful memories I have close. I realize before I crossed a line into harder drugs, I managed my life, falling only at times into alcohol or marijuana, deluding myself to the first degree. Choosing that escape as a temporary relief did not compromise my values, although it could lead to confusing my thoughts and gave me opportunity not to feel. Once I opened the door to deep addiction, I crossed a line that makes it impossible to risk looking to temporary escape in any substance, as it will give my addiction permission to again control my emotions. The temporary escape was an illusion anyway, and it lead me to welcoming the absence of feelings brought on by using crack and cocaine.

Having feelings back in my life and having to live them on their own terms is, at times, debilitating. Even the smallest irritations seem overwhelming presently. I know this is only temporary and I reach for the days there is more space between myself and my addiction. I accept this frustration is a natural part of my recovery and it makes sense that I ride a roller-coaster of emotion that feels beyond my control. Control has been the biggest driving force in my life and my addiction. Need for control is the catalyst for the addictive behaviours that led me to hard drugs.

At 60 day,s I am seeing myself open up to the support of others and it is not my norm. I understand much of my irritation today is resistance to the possibility of having my needs met by giving up some self-reliance. My ego does not allow me to think I need the same things I give to others, and I know I have to change that. In order to find true recovery and to live a life that is real I need to reconnect with myself, people and spirit. It is  all around me for my acknowledgment; and I am willing. Lack of patience is not an easy human trait to overcome, and I am realizing I am human, and need to be easier on myself. Strength and courage has longevity in acceptance and unity.

It is after midnight now, so it is day 61 and I will make my focus today on simplicity and being in the moment. I am grateful for the possibilities that are ahead and the hope recovery brings to my future. The resistance to change is part of the process, as is the feeling of being exposed to the world in an unfamiliar and uncomfortable way. As I move through the anniversaries of clean time and of loss, I will open myself to the support that is all around me while continuing to feel the joy of giving to others in the same way. I initially titled this 60 days and NOT what I am reaching for and I just had to take not out of it because as I wrote this, I moved through it and came to an understanding that will allow me to fall asleep peacefully instead of fighting myself and my thoughts.

60day keytag

SILENT SERPENT

The serpent is circling, silent and slow,

Patient and cunning, staying hidden down low,

Circling wide, with a smile full of charm,

Gently and softly, curling round one arm.

Mesmerizing; as the gaze is met,

Not revealing any sense of danger yet,

As the grip tightens ever so slight,

It sends a shiver that doesn’t seem quite right,

Softly the snake slithers, massaging down the spine,

The tail at the neck brings discomfort; but it’s fine.

Around the chest the circle is made,

The pressure is squeezing making breath fade,

How did the creature become so bold?

The warmth is gone consumed by cold.

Soon little is left, spirit is fading,

The soul that was strong and energy creating,

Pulls from the last ounce of strength and self-worth,

Breaks free from the snake, as it falls to the earth.

A hawk swiftly dives in high from above,

Soaring off with the serpent, and looking back with love.

hawk and snake