Monday, September 2, 2013

A Broken Dis-eased Girl

99.  Double digits.  I used to believe that there was such a deep sign in seeing double or triple digits around.  If I seen quads like 11:11 I would feel a deep twinge in my guts that it was a huge message for me.  That was until Badboy number 2 took my fun game to an extreme and made it something obsessive and gross.  99 posts today, that's why I started off with the number thing... although the number thing was brought back to my attention yesterday as I was driving to another city to get my baby girl from her dads.  Haunted by the boy and the digits everywhere I looked.

I am a mess today.  I want to get all melodramatic and say I am on the verge of a relapse.  But I am not.  Or maybe now that I am really clean it's a nervous break down I am going to have.  I am sure it's not.  I just feel like my head is a tiny bingo wheel and all the balls are bouncing around in there just waiting to be plucked and called out for everyone to scan and see if that thought is a winner for them.  My thoughts are not gonna win anyone anything today though... I am crazy.

The insanity of my disease has been cycling through my world the past couple of days as I am informed of the insanity of my ex fiance's disease.  Funny how when I am loving up on one of my three badboys they take on a different image.  I never acknowledge that badboy number two and I were slotted to get married.  It's something I like to forget because it was a symptom of my disease.  However we were together for a few months and truly I did find unconditional love through him.  I did so well with that unconditional love that I was able to let him go and let God take care of him.  Accept I don't know if God did take care of him.

I am sitting in some shit today in a few different piles of it actually.  I feel like the world is challenging my every turn this past couple of months.  With each challenge I come through I feel more humbled and confident at the same time, however I also become more afraid one of these times I am not going to over come the challenge presented.  That where I am at today.

With my youngest daughter now home, my little physical world looks like a bomb exploded in her living room.  I do not do well with physical chaos in my living space.  Prior to the bomb hitting my home, it hit my purse with new school clothes, leaving me feeling anxiety riddled.... I am a saver.  Those two things alone are changes that will have me a bit rattled on good days.  Add in the five hour drive stuck in my head about the insanity of my disease.... which I will get to in a moment and then to come home to a smack in memory using lane.

My oldest daughter and her boyfriend were at my house waiting to hit up the club scene, when I got home.... I was hungry, angry, lonely and tired.   In an instant I was taken back to the party house we all lived at together and the lowest point of my using.  I jumped right into drug talk.  I was triggered and felt like I was sinking fast.  Such a horrible feeling to be there.  Even worse feeling to know that I cannot avoid them any longer.  I have been for months.  These are the two people that I cannot cut out of my new world and must learn to rise above.  That was the true challenge last night and I think I failed at it.

In a more positive note I do know that the awareness is a hard earned reward and one for which brings too much humiliation to ignore for the next time I am in that situation.  I must must must not allow myself to get to H.A.L.T.   or that when I do.... I scream the words stop in my inner mind and zip my lips instead of fire off my cool old lady gangster i am da' bomb verbal diarrhea.

So lets get to why I was in my head for five hours about the insanity of my disease because that's really what the main issue is here.  Ugh.  I don't even know how to begin or even if I want to go here.  These are the things I am so sick of patterning around, but I cannot ignore the blaring truth of my disease when it smacks me in the face as it has this week.  I also hesitate because I am not into gossiping and that's kinda what this will feel like, however I cannot think of any other way to share my part in something without including part of their situations.  As always I never use names and for that I will stick to my story teller persona and asked that this be received in like fashion.

.... Once there was this girl who was broken.   There were no form of mirrors for her to reflect upon in her dark little world, so she had no idea she was broken.  Her existence was a separated one, living in a selfish realm she found her only comfort in fixing other people.  Her speciality... beautifully broken boys, masked as the infamous bad boy.

Her first victim a dark shaggy haired ex hockey player gone rogue.  Captive in a drug house she free'd him and nursed him back to health.  Such a successful triumphant heart she had.  He shined up like a new penny.  She was fixed and felt complete.  ... Oh I mean he was fixed and ready for the world.  All was well.  She lived in this world but a mere couple months, a world of love and glowing embers.  ........That is until she found her new little prized trophy had gone back to the love of HIS life.........  Her illusion shattered.  In the moment she seen them together time stood still.   She drove off in a haze of rage, moments lapsed and her car was pointed at the pole with the big C sign on it in a deserted parking lot.  Autopilot pounded her foot on the gas peddle. Nothing in her mind but the searing burn ripping through her chest.  Ending the pain was her only focus.    As a low deep primal howl pleaded from the back seat she was so annoyingly reminded of the great big black elk hound she had just picked up as a gift for her lover.  Clarity in that moment brought both feet onto the brake peddle with but an inch to spare.

A hysterical call to a friend brought her to the awareness maybe it was time to deal with her sickness.

Off to Narcotics Anonymous she dragged herself on the advice of her friend.  Believing that the drugs made her brain all crazy like this.  She would learn through the twelve steps that drugs were but the symptom of a much deeper issue.  But for now.....It took a few months of false attempts and weak starts to actually jump off the platform in to the waters of healing.  When she did it was only a matter of days before she found her new shiny toy.

He was so put together and polished.  He had nice clothes, the perfect shoes.... she really has a thing for shoes... he had cool piercings and hot tattoo's.  And this one was already clean!  The first time she seen him she thought she had just seen divinity in the body of an older man.  Poor girl had no idea that the devil packages things is flashy boxes to get your attention.   It was not long before her new conquest was proposing to her and sweeping her off her feet to new lands... the knight in shining armour that he was......

Wait!  Scratch the dvd here and rewind.  Narrator interjects.....  The sweet little girl is back in her delusional disease again, the real story goes more like this....   After but a couple months she begs good NA  boy to get her an innocent little pinner to calm her nerves.  Its acceptable right, maintenance right?  It's better then jib right?  The drug she lead him to believe was really her kryptonite.  Which sorry to say folks wasn't it was and always has been the innocent little leafy plant. she can do the harder stuff and it doesnt get her nearly as much as the softer easier stuff does... can't explain why, but its the truth.   Truly, however as you are learning even that is'nt the real manifestation of her disease.  So with ganga back in her brain she convinced good boy it was time to run away, she was done with this good girl shit.

He felt he loved her and followed her, surely knowing this would end badly but not wanting to lose the prize he was also trying to fix.   Oh how likes attract likes.   In their glow they fell into a sick love and stayed blissed out for all of three months before the train hit a wall.   Packing a suitcase and waking her beautiful daughter they boarded a midnight bus back home.  Starting over once again.

Off she dragged herself back to NA humiliated.   Trying to get back on her feet she had a few more slips as shiny polished boy kept popping up at the most inopportune times to claim her love.  Both falling victims to their perspective drugs of choice, neither one able to fix and save the other.  Finally after enough pain she slammed the door once and for all on the sick obsession they both shared.... each other.

Finding freedom our little self centered girl began to grow and experience real recovery.  Putting her self back together and building her life was her main focus for a good solid six months.  It took a few months to let go of her polished boy even after slamming the door, but before her next victim she did experience a profound freedom in fixing herself instead of others.  She grew by leaps and bounds and some days didn't even recognize herself now that she lived in a world with mirrors.  She was learning to love her new world of light and connection.

Thats why she had to destroy it before it got to good.  In enters distraction number three.

He had been energetically calling to her for months.  He sat across from her at the meeting she came back after the midnight bus home.  As she cried and let out the pain of her humiliation, he cradled her with his gaze.  Through the next year they watched each other stumble and fall, holding each other from a distance.  ....Wait!!  Scratch the fucking dvd again... crazy bitch you are so delusional.  You wanted to get laid and you knew he was easy.... fuck girl get honest!!

Okay, Okay!!  So she wanted to mess up her perfect little good girl world with a romp in the darkness and your right she knew he would be a wild ride.  So she jumped on with no reservations.... she wanted a thrill.   And thrill is what she got, but not even close to the form she expected it to take.  Funny how stories seem to take on a life of there own even to the author.  This ride which she thought was going to be a fun roller coaster ended up being a haunted house with the drop of doom as the grand finally.  Nothing but pain came out of that interaction.

End of story.

Or so she wishes.   In the moment of insanity where she chose bad boy number three she made such a mess of her building existence that she was once again brought to her knee's of humility but this time not from dope but from the more devastating manifestation or acting out of her self centered separated sickness.... fucking with the broken boy.

...........You see this week it's all been brought up for me to deal with the repercussions of my actions.  The most recent bad boy got loaded and is behind bars again, from the information I have received.  My shiny polished boy just crawled back skinny and broken into the rooms.  And the original bad boy is so happily in love with his girl and still has the job he got when I fixed him.

All of this information flooded my world in the past seven days.  My heart aches at my part in all of these mens drama's.  I am glad badboy number one is happy, truly I am.... but I wanted him happy with me.  I am sick that polished man is crawling back broken after an innocent joint lead him back out two years ago... don't get me wrong I am really happy he made it back.  And I am even more sick that badboy number three is institutionalized.  He was in relapse mode way before I came in the picture, but I had a part to play in quickening his journey.

The shit piles I must sit in today is the understanding that I am a selfish little girl who at the expense of others always gets what she wants.  I can see fully that my inner world is directly related to my other world and I am not separate from anyone else.  We are all connected in love and sickness.  In choosing the sickness, the darker avenue I have effected people in a negative way.  My lesson to learn is that by choosing love I can effect people in a positive way.  When I heard bad boy number one is doing really well and is happy, I realize even though I didn't get what i wanted out of that situation it was something I did do in love, I was not far gone in addiction or pain yet.  I really did just want to help him, it was my illusion that seen us together as more.  But the truth of the other two is that I cannot fix anyone.  They have to want to fix themselves.  As much as I want to reach out to bad boy number two it will only make things worse for him.  My true unconditional love for him, tells me to stay far away from him.

My course of action must be to keep walking forward and deal with my own challenges of my daughters.  Building my life and moving into the unknown future that is only mine to live.  It is truly time for me to let go of the self defeating pattern of trying to fix the broken boys in order to fix myself.  I need to get honest and fix myself instead.

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