“I can shake off everything as I write; my sorrows disappear, my courage is reborn.”
–Anne Frank

I feel nothing. Moods unrecognizable. Like drowning and breathing at the same time. Numb. What’s a heart without a beat? A song without a rhythm? What would my brain be like without so many constant thoughts?

If I wrote a poem about the things I am a thief would be the first thing I write down. I find it strange really that out of everything I know I am that was the first description of me that comes to mind. I’ve stolen so much from so many. Love and happiness. Peace of mind and a sense of security. I have a way of having my actions reflect just the opposite of what I just said. It’s okay though because you love me anyways, right?

I’ve lost days contemplating is all this worth it. Did my life turn out exactly how it was meant to be? Was I always destined to be a 37 year old alcoholic who’s feel better in chaos and anger than the peace found in serenity? Did I risk my soul one too many times? Should I have sold it when the chances were given? At this moment I’m seeking only clarity. I feel like it always comes back to god or a higher power. People tell me to pray. Pray to what? A higher power? God? Nature? My grandmother? Yet I’ll say the serenity prayer or lords prayer before or after a meeting. I have no feelings towards any of it. If I’m being honest I only started because everyone else was. I started praying because everyone else was. I stopped praying because there’s no belief in what I’m actually saying. 

I’ll ask for my cats to be safe. Other sorts that involve the people I love most. This falls short of what I believe a prayer even is. Yet it’s a repetitive pattern. Superstitious. Like if I don’t say it and something happens everything would be my fault. Because I chose that day to not say it. I don’t believe I am god. I never have. I just wish I could have the faith without needing to know everything that goes along with it. People tell me to pray. And then what? Wait for things to get better? Wait for things to suddenly shift and make sense? 

Look I’m coming up on almost 2 years or sobriety. This I believe is causing me to psycho analyze everything about me. Why I am the way that I am? I always thought I’d be alone. Even as a young kid. I always thought I’d end up alone. Believe it or not I was actually okay with it. Then I grew up. Started mirroring the people around me. Lost all my ideas and identities. Who was I but I walking doppelgänger of the person you loved the most. I miss the weed that helped me think. That calmed me down and believe it or not brought peace. 

I get trapped in these waves that make me think maybe I should’ve just stopped at 3. Wanting so much to be done with this that I rushed too far ahead. Not knowing what I was even saying. In the beginning they told me to use my grandmother as my higher power. And now? It’s nothing. The universe maybe? Honestly it doesn’t really even matter to me. Maybe that’s where I’m getting tripped up. Maybe that’s why I’m in the situation that I’m in. Constantly choosing anger over joy. Searching for a reason to push me over the edge I walk too close to. Waiting for a reason for me to say well I tried. Now give me a drink. 

I don’t attend enough meetings. I don’t reach out like one should until I’m already spiraling and even then I keep what I’m thinking and feeling on a short leash. I know everything I’m supposed to do yet I always do the opposite. I’m not ready to give it all over. To have the blind faith that everyone around me chooses to have. I don’t want to drink. All of this falls apart if I make that decision to pick up one after another one. 

I think I was just lying to myself and the people around me. Still trying to blend. I still lie when I say I’m fine.  No one has to know the war that’s raging on inside. Staying sober is exhausting. I need to rest. Mentally telling myself everyday. Nope you can’t drink today. I’ve gravitated away from my choosing happy mentality. Being happy had became exhausting too. 

What if at the end of this everything, all of it was for nothing? What if I still end up alone like I thought I’d be as a kid? I’m a good person. Honest. There’s just this evil side that just doesn’t quit sometimes. They tell me to be grateful. If I lost it all tomorrow…Everything…. I’d be bent and mangled but I’d still be here. Thank you survival mentality.

Why does everything always have to be about me? Why I am so self centered that I can’t not see anything that doesn’t involve me? What if subconsciously all of this is for attention? What if I’m the one making the waves that’s causing me to drown? Writing clears a lot of things. Connects dots and shows me where I still need to grow.  I don’t know why I wait til I’m again, spiraling to finally start to write. It’s like everything is blocked up and I forget how to form sentences when I type. This may have been just an emotional outburst. I may have just rambled on with no explanation or context.

 Anger can be a tricky emotion. You have it one moment and then the next POOF. You’re over it and whatever caused you the anger to begin with. But when it’s little things day by day. You start to realize maybe there’s an underlying issue. So you start dissecting everything. Only that leads to more anger. More confusion. More sense that you don’t have as much control as you thought. 

I don’t know what I’m doing with my life. I’m always so focused on time that I always feel as if I’m wasting it. I’m angry at myself. I misdirect it towards everything around me. It’s no one’s fault but my own. I let the fear of standing alone on an airstrip waiting for the plane to take off frighten me. When all the while it was my idea to jump to begin with. I feel as if I’ve never been the director of my life. I’ve always loved being the center of everything yet lately I feel as if I’m running away for it. Wasting what could’ve been a good time on some fear I suddenly came up with. That fear has always been there. Patiently waiting to remind me just how uncomfortable I’ll be standing there. 

I dreamed of a roller coaster last night. Riding it. Begin afraid to get on it. Having a thought while riding it that this wasn’t as scary when I was standing looking up for the ground. I believe in dreams giving us messages we aren’t able to receive in our walking life. I guess we will what rabbit hole I follow this one down. I love the analogy between life and roller coasters. Roller coasters and the things the frighten us. The ups and downs. The fear of letting go and putting trust into something that you’re not quite sure is actually there. Crying this and that. It’s too much to fear. Than crying because I’m going through a mini self crisis and I need answers. When the answers are right there. I just need to ask myself the questions. Do you want freedom and serenity? Do you think you’re worthy of it? If you don’t like something in your life do something about it. Stop waiting for someone to do it for you. Sitting back saying well I tried. Now sit here and listen to me bitch about it. Start living instead of existing. How many times could you have died? Thought you’d never make it to 30. Yet here you are wasting years you’d never thought you’d have. Do something about it. 

People say they love me and even tho I do believe they do, I don’t feel as if it’s justified. I don’t feel as if I’ve done enough for them to warrant the love they have for me. Who I am to tell anyone who to love? Most days I like myself. Some days I don’t understand myself. Everyday lately I feel as if I’m angry with myself. Old and new. I find a reason in the day to day humdrum of all of it. I need willpower to choose differently. To not be afraid to be scared. So many times those to things are linked together. Fear and being scared. Wanting so much at adapt a do it anyways mentality. So why not? I’ve always thrived in chaos. The craziness of a situation peeks my interests. I can’t just say I’m going to do it and not do it. I need to hold myself accountable. I can’t keep doing this to myself. I have the wisdom to help others. I’m quick to pick another person up yet I leave myself laying in the mud. So fuck it… ride the fucking roller coaster.