You can’t possibly be more ashamed of me
Than I am shamed by my own behaviour
You might ask why do you do this to yourself
And I answer that there’s no why in addiction
Addiction sneaks in the back door
It accumulates in the dark corners
Soothing the burdened soul
With it’s liquid smoothness
Taking the sharp corners from life
Slowly building it’s foundations
Becoming something from nothing
Feeding upon itself gradually taking hold
Unknowingly I let it
I fed it
Then it devoured me
Until I couldn’t see
Another way to be
But don’t feel sorry
Please
I need no pity
I did this to myself
I will fight my way
Out
Houston we have a problem
I am sure it is apparent from the last few posts that I have a problem. It would be so tempting to tell you that I am in recovery but the truth is that my recovery journey of late has involved mostly prolonged "detours". These leave me feeling confused, depleted and cast out from the person I aspire to be. So I am going to take an extended blogging break to take some time out in order to get straight again. xx Jos
Adult ... kind of
I knew I should never become a mother
because I am the daughter of a woman
who should never have become a mother
and I am also the daughter of a man
who should never have become a father
There are too many flaws in my family
and the long and short of it is that
these two should never have had children
because having them they abandoned them
whilst appearing not to do so at all
And so we grew up ... except we didn't
we grew on the outside but not really
we aged which is not the same thing
how do you grow a child to maturity
when she is stuck in the pain of the past
because I am the daughter of a woman
who should never have become a mother
and I am also the daughter of a man
who should never have become a father
There are too many flaws in my family
and the long and short of it is that
these two should never have had children
because having them they abandoned them
whilst appearing not to do so at all
And so we grew up ... except we didn't
we grew on the outside but not really
we aged which is not the same thing
how do you grow a child to maturity
when she is stuck in the pain of the past
A strange land
What do you do when the person reflected in the mirror is a stranger
when the internal dialogue within you becomes incomprehensible
so that what you once trusted is whisked out from under your feet
leaving you sinking ever deeper into the quicksand of incomprehension
What do you do when your reality seeps into some form of unreality
diminishing you in such a fundamental way that you are no longer sure
that you have the knowledge or ability to distinguish between the two
is this at long last the line that lies between sanity and something other
How long can you walk along a narrow ledge without falling off
if you only know and accept the things that lie above or on the surface
how can you ever hope to slow your descent into what lies below it
what measures can you take to ensure a soft landing at the bottom.
when the internal dialogue within you becomes incomprehensible
so that what you once trusted is whisked out from under your feet
leaving you sinking ever deeper into the quicksand of incomprehension
What do you do when your reality seeps into some form of unreality
diminishing you in such a fundamental way that you are no longer sure
that you have the knowledge or ability to distinguish between the two
is this at long last the line that lies between sanity and something other
How long can you walk along a narrow ledge without falling off
if you only know and accept the things that lie above or on the surface
how can you ever hope to slow your descent into what lies below it
what measures can you take to ensure a soft landing at the bottom.
Writing
I will write and write
until the pain lessens
like in the olden days
when we were bled
to remove the toxins
I will cut into myself
to remove the flaws
until I am nothing more
than I was before
until the pain lessens
like in the olden days
when we were bled
to remove the toxins
I will cut into myself
to remove the flaws
until I am nothing more
than I was before
Exposed
I stand shivering under your gaze
as exposed as ever I have been
these flaws run so deep
deeper than I knew
or rather
than I allowed myself to see
I wish some days
I could be restored
to my former blindness
as exposed as ever I have been
these flaws run so deep
deeper than I knew
or rather
than I allowed myself to see
I wish some days
I could be restored
to my former blindness
Shuttered
Why do you ask a blind woman to look at it this way
can you not see the unfocused look of her eye
why do you ask the deaf woman to hear you out
when listening is the last things she's capable of doing
to awaken deadened senses is next to impossible
Why do you look for understanding from a statue
is she not as immobile in thought as in deed
where a human heart might beat out it's feelings
hers is but a silent pump, although not inert
hers is a far more sinister form of stillness
can you not see the unfocused look of her eye
why do you ask the deaf woman to hear you out
when listening is the last things she's capable of doing
to awaken deadened senses is next to impossible
Why do you look for understanding from a statue
is she not as immobile in thought as in deed
where a human heart might beat out it's feelings
hers is but a silent pump, although not inert
hers is a far more sinister form of stillness
Change
There are reasons why
but unraveling them is not easy
hard to face the harsh realities
to see what it is, to look at it square on
to accept that this is mine
as are the results
If at the root of a lie lies no harm
but unforeseen unintended hurt
is it any more excusable
no
is it any more acceptable
no
is it any more forgivable
perhaps
A child might use fantasy
truth and untruth woven together
as a defense against the indefensible
but would expect to grow out of it
not cling to and repeat this old pattern
once it's reason has long since ceased
Except accepting untruth repeatedly
creates an ability to detach
to put the unacceptable into a box
like turning a mental blind eye
so lies remain hidden but known
and duality thus becomes the norm
With sufficient time detachment
becomes the ability to ignore
those neglected internal voices
that gradually dwindle to a whisper
the smallest twinge of conscience
dissonance just faintly knocking
But we confront this duality at our peril
unless we've also learnt acceptance
not necessarily of specific acts of untruth
right and wrong remain unchanged
but of the person trying to change
hoping still for some redemption
Some hope
but unraveling them is not easy
hard to face the harsh realities
to see what it is, to look at it square on
to accept that this is mine
as are the results
If at the root of a lie lies no harm
but unforeseen unintended hurt
is it any more excusable
no
is it any more acceptable
no
is it any more forgivable
perhaps
A child might use fantasy
truth and untruth woven together
as a defense against the indefensible
but would expect to grow out of it
not cling to and repeat this old pattern
once it's reason has long since ceased
Except accepting untruth repeatedly
creates an ability to detach
to put the unacceptable into a box
like turning a mental blind eye
so lies remain hidden but known
and duality thus becomes the norm
With sufficient time detachment
becomes the ability to ignore
those neglected internal voices
that gradually dwindle to a whisper
the smallest twinge of conscience
dissonance just faintly knocking
But we confront this duality at our peril
unless we've also learnt acceptance
not necessarily of specific acts of untruth
right and wrong remain unchanged
but of the person trying to change
hoping still for some redemption
Some hope
Lies
A lie, just one to start with
but lies escalate and accumulate
ultimately taking their revenge
causing this unintended hurt
I never meant it to be this way
regret isn't a strong enough word
sorry doesn't come close either
if I tell you that I hate me too
will it ease your heart a little?
but lies escalate and accumulate
ultimately taking their revenge
causing this unintended hurt
I never meant it to be this way
regret isn't a strong enough word
sorry doesn't come close either
if I tell you that I hate me too
will it ease your heart a little?
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