A silent tear

I can’t explain exactly what goes through the mind of somebody that feels like they’ve been placed into a foreign land without a map. This is how I feel most of the time, sometimes without even leaving my house. The dark abyss of my brain can transform perfectly normal things into exotic scary things and the places I feel are safe are suddenly scary.

I understood it when i was drinking, it just was the fact that the booze was altering my mind. My thoughts were being contorted by some weird substance in my blood stream. The thoughts were like nightmares and I knew that once I work up from a drink fest everything would be back to normal. I could navigate the dark corners of my mind without a map. I was the mistress of my mess. That’s what I thought at least.

Now, here I am, mistress of my mess but it seems to be getting messier. I know beauty comes from chaos (that’s why I look like I do, thanks mom and dad)  but I can’t take so much. It’s confusing, this AA business is making things  confusing but clear at the same time. How can that be, how can I feel like I’m getting better and worse at the same time? Why can I be so scared of something that is so good for me.

Easy, it’s the circumstances that I allow myself to dwell on. In the program, in order to fully accept the fact you’re an alcoholic, you have to admit that you’re powerless over that wicked potion that promises you answers. The truth will set you free, and it has for me or certain. I can honestly say I haven’t even wanted to almost drink for almost a month now.

There is a larger problem though, this mess that I’ve made prior to becoming a recovering hero. I look around me and see a bunch of loose ends and frayed knots. None of those knots are holding the right things together and all of those loose strings once made up a magnificent tapestry. That tapestry now looks like it has withstood a thousand windstorm. How to you even begin to pick up the pieces?

The face in the mirror today told me what I wanted to hear, the rest of the world however saw otherwise. I have to start believing in who I want to be and what I have the potential to become. Most people wallow in the fact they’re confused and scared. I make the proclamation and usually cry a lot. It helps sometimes, sometimes it just dehydrates me.

I’m not going to stumble and start back on other self destructive patterns, I’m not going to let the dark abyss lure me back in again. I’ve decided that being the mistress of my own abyss is better than being the goddess of someone else’s garden.

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