Category Archives: Addiction and Mental Health


I went into Kidney Failure again, I should’ve recognized the signs but didn’t. All they could do is get rid of the excess fluid backed up in my one good kidney. They couldn’t do much else because I’m too sick to operate on right now. They sent me home late yesterday.

My white blood cell count and red blood cell count are both down, my blood pressure is would suggest I’m already dead, my temperature was 100 degrees but is now staying at 94 degrees. I have a headache that would make a Super Hero cry, I can’t even tell you about my sinuses and phlegm problem because I still hope to have at least 1 date before I die.

As usual I couldn’t reach my twin sister to tell her I was in the ICU. My Dad is also sick right now so he couldn’t be with me. She did text me back eventually. After I got out of the Hospital.

I haven’t talked out loud to anyone very much in the last year. My Dad is usually miserable and I’m afraid I’ll set him off. My twin sister doesn’t answer her phone but will sometimes send me a text. I told her today that I’m having trouble with the loneliness, I’m talking to myself, Dad’s yelling at me constantly and it would be nice to just talk about current events or TV shows we both watch because it’s bad.

She sent me a text 3 hours later that she “had” to nap a lot today but she “might” give me a call later.

I’m really feeling done.

When I mentioned I might spend 6 months to a year in Florida with my Aunt all of a sudden my Dad says he has no money and needs more money from me for bills. I’ve given him $2,000 in the last month and a half. There went the money I was going to use towards my lease/rental. I know it’s on purpose and he has money.

No one wants to be around me, no one wants to talk to me, but they don’t want me to leave.

My entire life they never had a problem leaving me behind. In many different ways. Physically and emotionally.

I’m always watching from behind trying to catch up, trying to belong, jumping up and down whispering “pick me, pick me”, they never have and after this long I don’t think they ever will. loneliness-wide



The Above Ground Charity Event is being presented by Dave Navarro and Billy Morrison in partnership with Revolver Gallery. The event is to raise awareness and funds for the treatment of mental health. Two iconic albums will be played in their entirety with an all star band and special guests. The event takes place at The Belasco Theater 1050 S. Hill St. Los Angeles, CA, Monday April 16th. Tickets are on sale now from ticketmaster and livenation. Proceeds donated to MusiCares.

This is an event I would love to attend. I’m just not sure it’s a good idea. My physical health isn’t the greatest but I could also feel worse because of my environment. I have flown to California alone before but I’ve never spent time alone there. It’s a decision making time and I’m not good at decisions. lol


Roughly 50% of people with a severe mental illness are also affected by substance abuse.

What is considered “severe mental illness”?

  • Bipolar Disorder
  • Schizophrenia
  • Major Depressive Disorder
  • Borderline Personality Disorder
  • Social Anxiety Disorder
  • Post Traumatic Stress Disorder

Mental Illness is caused by a combination of genetics (your family history), your environment, and other outside factors.

37% of alcohol abusers and 53% of drug abusers also have at least one serious mental illness.

Alcohol and drug abuse are often used to self-medicate the symptoms of mental health problems that have gone undiagnosed. In the long term this worsens symptoms.

Evidence shows that people who abuse opioid painkillers are at greater risk of depression and marijuana users have an increased risk of psychosis.

Alcohol abuse increases the symptoms of mental illness or even triggers new symptoms, it also makes antidepressants, anti-anxiety medications, and mood stabilizers less effective.


  • Do you use alcohol or drugs to cope with unpleasant memories or feelings, to control pain or the intensity of your moods, to face situations that frighten you, or to stay focused on tasks?
  • Have you noticed a relationship between your substance abuse and your mental health? EX: Do you get depressed when you drink?
  • Has someone in your family struggled with either a mental illness or alcohol/drug abuse?
  • Do you feel depressed or anxious even when you’re sober?
  • Do you have unresolved trauma or a history of abuse?
  • Do you ever feel guilty or ashamed about your alcohol/drug use?
  • Have you ever blacked out?
  • Has your alcohol/drug use gotten you into trouble with the law?
  • Has your alcohol/drug use caused problems with your friends/family?


When looking for treatment make sure the program is licensed,  accredited and has  experience with your particular mental health issue.

The treatment addresses both substance abuse and mental health.

You share in the decision making process and are actively involved in the strategies used to help you cope with challenges and stress. It’s a waste of everyone’s time if you’re not going to do what’s suggested because you have trouble concentrating or memory issues. These things have to be shared and talked about so a program can be tailored to your specific needs.

I realize when I look at something in chart form or statistics I think it looks simple. Nothing is simple when it comes to mental health and addiction. If it was simple we wouldn’t have so many people dying.

Society is worried about gun violence when Suicide is the 2nd leading cause of death among 15-34 year olds. It’s 3rd among 10-14 year olds and the 10th leading cause of death overall.

There were 47,193 Suicides last year compared to 17,793 Homicides. I think the focus is on the wrong subject.



When I hear people use words like “sicko”, “deranged”, “nut job” or other hurtful slang words to describe a person with a mental illness I cringe inside.

When I hear or read those words coming from the President of The United States I wonder if realizes or cares about the harm he’s doing and the added stigma he’s creating.

People who are diagnosed with a mental illness are not “monsters” to be feared or taken off the streets and institutionalized.

This is a fact, people with mental illness have more violence done to them than any other group in the United States.

40% of women with a mental illness have been raped or sexually assaulted in their lifetime. 

Our answer to this is to make them feel worse about themselves? More ostracized? More frightened by society than they already are?

I find it disgusting.

If you’ve never had the chance to see the inside of a State run institution I suggest you check yourself in for a few days and let me know what you think. That is if they release you. If you lived in Rhode Island from 1950-1997 chances are you were put in an over crowded facility where you slept in a chair, on a table, or a floor. Look up just how many Pauper’s graves were found on the grounds of this lovely institution. Hundreds of thousands of unidentified human beings that were treated like animals.

You might ask how I know this for sure. My Grandmother was a Nurse there. She should’ve been a patient. My Uncle, her son, actually was a patient for a few years. How anyone could do that to their own child I’ll never know. I’m not too surprised because she later abandoned all 7 of them without a place to live. They lived in a chicken coop for some time.

You can look it up. It was called the Howard Center and the IMH in Cranston, Rhode Island. The newer facilities are not much better.

It’s difficult enough when people find out you’ve been diagnosed with Bipolar or Schizophrenia without the Government making it sound like we all want to kill or mame everyone we come into contact with.

I am part of that 40%. I have also been slapped, spit on, kicked, punched, thrown down stairs, had concussions, and other violence done against me. I thought I deserved it. I DON’T ANYMORE.

I’m not a doormat or a punching bag. I am a human being who is more sensitive than other people. I startle easily and I stutter when frightened or under stress. I love animals, my nephews, my dad, my twin sister, my brother, and I miss my mom more than anything in the world.

Am I capable of violence? I think the question should be who isn’t? Everyone has their breaking points. If someone was to hurt your child would you protect them with violence? I think most people would. Does this make you a “sicko”? No. It makes you human. Try to remember your humanity when you listen to or read whatever vile crap is being spewed by people in positions of power who don’t know when to be quiet.


Many people would not be able to stay sober without a 12 Step Program. I acknowledge this and accept it. I wish it went both ways. I have often been told that I “would never make it without a program”. I’ve been sober or in remission for over 9 years without a program. It isn’t for everyone.

I couldn’t handle being in a room filled with strangers and feeling their pain plus my own. I’m like a sponge that way. I also wasn’t hearing anyone say anything similar to my situation. No one admitted to drinking because they were afraid of meeting new people, afraid of talking to people, afraid to make friends, or just simply afraid.

No one admitted that at times they wanted to hurt themselves because they felt they didn’t belong anywhere. That they would look around a room and ask themselves “Why can’t I be like other people?” never feeling comfortable in their own skin. Or how much of a failure they felt like because the person that was born with them was able to do everything they couldn’t.

I can’t remember how many times I watched my twin sister and wondered if maybe there wasn’t a mistake made at the hospital. We were so different. Because we are twins people felt it was ok to comment on how different we were in front of us. I was always the fat, quiet one, she was always the thin, outgoing one. After years of hearing this it’s how you start to identify yourself too.

No one told stories of getting wasted and having sex with more than one guy in a night or waking up and not remembering if you had sex or not. There were no stories of hanging out with men who thought it was fun to make you cry or hit you. It was a group of men that for some reason wouldn’t let me go and I couldn’t get the courage to escape from for years. Some tried to help while others made things worse. Yes, I put myself in that situation because I thought I deserved it. I didn’t know I was sick or an alcoholic I just knew that at that time it was the best I could do. Secretly I hoped one of them would kill me and so I drank more.

There were no stories like that. I didn’t feel like I could tell them either. I needed a lot more help than a 12 Step Meeting could provide. I just didn’t know it yet. It would take several more years to figure it out.

Mental illness coupled with self-medicating is one of the hardest things in life you will ever go through. If you actually get through it I’m proud of you because it’s a Hell of journey and not many of us make it. It takes more than one or two relapses before you get it for some reason that’s just how it is. I’m here to say that if that happens don’t wast time beating yourself up. Ask yourself why? After that let it go and move forward. If you don’t you will keep repeating the same pattern.


Imagine you have had severe anxiety from a young age. You taught yourself not to make eye contact, to look at the ground while walking, used baggy clothes and long hair to try to be invisible. You felt more comfortable in long sleeved hoodies where you could pull sleeves over your hands because it made you feel safe. Imagine feeling nauseous 24/7 and throwing up or dry heaving daily. This started at 9 years old.

You discover something that makes it all go away. Alcohol. The thing is alcohol didn’t work on you the way it did on everyone else. Alcohol is usually a depressant but the majority of the times you drink you’re hyper, impulsive, talk fast, promiscuous, and stay up all night. You don’t think it’s odd because you don’t know anything else. But when the hardcore alcoholics you hang out with comment on it you start to wonder.

Eventually you aren’t the happy, hyper, drunk anymore. Events and circumstances change. Depression starts to creep in while you’re drinking. So does jealousy and anger. This leads to more negative events that change you dramatically.

When things get to a point where you’re given an ultimatum, a 12 Step Program or being homeless, you agree to the 12 Step Program. You shouldn’t have.

You had been to a few Psychiatrists who diagnosed you with Social Phobia/Social Anxiety Disorder and put you on medication that wasn’t exactly working.

You’re forced to meet a person you don’t know and agree to make her your Sponsor. She goes to meetings 3 times a day. The first meeting you have to go to is a large open meeting where everyone knew each other. There were about 70 people and believe me people noticed when I walked in.

When a thrust a person with Social Anxiety into a group setting where they don’t know anyone, they’re there for something they feel ashamed of, and they also have PTSD but haven’t been diagnosed yet, it isn’t a great experience.

When you then force that person to get up and speak in front of everyone it causes harm. I hated it, I never wanted to go back, I disliked the people, I disliked the several comments made when a few men noticed the scars on my wrists, I hated that they monitored what you could and could not say at an open meeting, I hated that my sponsor wanted me to go to 3 meetings a day while working 50 hours a week and taking care of my Mom who had been diagnosed with Lung Cancer. My sponsor’s response was “You found time to drink didn’t you?”

I didn’t drink like other people. I never drank during the day. I always drank from 4-5 pm to around 1 am on work night and later if I had the next day off. I never drank alone. I know this doesn’t matter, I’m still an alcoholic. But everyone is different in their patterns and behaviors.

The worse part were the comments about not really being “sober” if you’re on medication. I knew this was directed at me. Every meeting someone brought it up. How antidepressants were a crutch and a substitute for alcohol. I think I have permanent scars on the inside of my mouth from biting my cheeks and tongue.

I never felt like I could be honest at meetings. The stress was overwhelming. When my sponsor had us go to a meeting for a group of male convicts to speak that was it. I lost it. I told her I couldn’t do it. She told me I better get on my knees and pray because I bound to fail and go to Hell. When it comes to religion and anyone telling me I’m going to Hell or to pray it’s like waiving a red flag in front of a bull.

Things didn’t end well. I refused to put myself in a room where I might run into someone I used to drink with, someone who hurt me physically and mentally. I was right not to because there were 2 men in there that I did know. If they had seen me or I them I would’ve had a breakdown or worse.

People with mental illness and addiction have to be treated in a different way. 

I don’t believe a person with mental illness who is self medicating with drugs/alcohol should be thrown into a regular 12 step meeting. It isn’t going to work. We need more than that.

I’m more sensitive to the concept of shame. Shame actually had a lot to do with my failing to stay sober. When I was able to take shame out of the equation I was able to achieve sobriety. Too much importance is put on “How many days do you have?” or “What is your sober date?” First of all I have damage to my brain and don’t remember my sober date or how many days. 

Second, keeping track like that is setting yourself up for failure. Life isn’t about numbers unless you’re an accountant. Everyone makes mistakes. It’s what you’re intent was/is when you made them that matters.


I’m not a “Woman Of The World” that’s one of the problems but it is one of my favorite Aerosmith songs.

I’ve always been addicted to People, Places, and Things. This causes me to act irrationally and think irrationally. I know this yet I do it anyway.

I’m still being contacted by “Steven Tyler” who I know isn’t actually Steven Tyler. I don’t have that kind of luck. Nope. I get men who want to show me their glass eye by popping it out, men who choose to have an actual hook for a hand instead of a normal prosthetic, men who have tear drop tattoos under one eye and yes they have been incarcerated and also want me to pay their child support for them. I also attract other alcoholics/addicts, a lot of homeless men, many violent men, “musicians” and “tattoo artists” that don’t have studios or legal equipment and mostly do “prison style” tattoos. I would show you 2 of mine but one I had re-done and the other is in an area best left unseen. It’s a heart with wings.

Maybe I am a Woman Of The World. Just not your World. I’ll always look like I’m going to a concert. I can’t help it, well I can I just don’t want to. Love me or not that’s your problem.7706d56d2ba6d2837c4f649f8fe18580


The fourth and final opinion about my mental health was given to me yesterday. I have over the last 7 years been to doctors with the best education, considered to be the best in their fields, the best reviewed by other patient’s, and I’ve even traveled to other states.

The new Doctor doing my assessment is a Psychiatrist and a Neurologist. She was able to get all of my records including my brain scan. I was surprised at this. She is connected to the Warren-Alpert Medical School and consulted with everyone in both departments before meeting with me. She had already observed my behavior and had the 2 hour interview I had done with the Counselor which included a detailed family history and my own history.

I’m not a genius but I know a lot about specific subjects. I’m quiet but observant. I’ve already said that I enjoy doing research.

She brought me into her office and had me sit down. She started off by saying “I think you already know what I’m going to say”. I started rocking saying “No, no,no,no,no,no,no” and crying because I did know what she was going to say.

When I looked up I noticed she was crying. For some reason that stopped me. No doctor had ever shown emotion about my mental health.

She said she was sorry there wasn’t anything she could do for me. The medications given to me in my youth had caused me to become extremely difficult to treat. She also said they are probably why I went into Kidney Failure. One of the side effects of 12 of the medications had to do with the bladder, with holding urine, problems with the pelvic floor and urinary tract and not feeling the need to urinate. All of this would cause the thickening of the ureters that I now have.

Not one Kidney doctor or Urologist ever asked about my previous medications or even suspected them.

She said the significant loss of gray and white matter in my brain is why I have trouble with CBT or DBT Therapy I have memory issues that are getting worse.

She said “I’m not going to lie to you. You know what the outlook is for you. You’re not physically well enough for ECT and this state isn’t as advanced as other states as far as alternative therapies for you”. I told her that I knew on average someone like me lives 25 years less than the average person but with all of my other problems the number is probably higher. She said “Yes it is, much higher”.

I need to find a way to come to terms with all of this. The biggest problem is my Dad and my twin sister not understanding any of it. A perfect stranger cries for me and knows that I might have a good 10 years left if that but my own family thinks I don’t try hard enough or I’m lazy. That is what bothers me the most.

I might have to leave the only home I’ve ever known to find some peace.


Maybe I need a tougher looking profile picture. Maybe I shouldn’t be so honest about my mental health and addiction or the rest of my life. Maybe I shouldn’t make comments when I think something or someone is generous or kind. I keep setting myself up for these awful situations. Somehow I’m the one that always ends up feeling bad about it.

I don’t remember how many years ago it was but I had just opened a Twitter account and I was following Nikki Sixx. It was a verified account. I made a couple of observations that he or maybe someone who works for him “liked”. Not long after I get a Direct Message from Nikki Sixx. At first I thought “Huh, that’s weird. But I have met a lot of musicians and know people who know him so who knows?”. Nope. It wasn’t him and I felt like an ass. It was so bad I closed my account and went off Twitter for over a year. It kind of sucked because I had a lot of followers including the lead singer for Blue October but I wasn’t in a good place.

The second incident involved Dave Navarro. I was back on Twitter and he was involved in a campaign against domestic violence. Knowing his story and having much respect for him I commented on his verified account. Someone then started using his name to try to talk to me about domestic violence. I didn’t answer. They then came on my blog and made nasty comments about my own past history with men and violence. I was furious. I did everything I could to trace the person. For months I went back and forth between crying and periods of rage. I also kept thinking I wasn’t good enough, I was a horrible person, and I deserved to be treated like garbage. It took a long time to recover from that one.

Now Steven Tyler keeps calling me on “Hangouts” something I didn’t even know I had. I commented on his Kia commercial on his verified account and he “liked” it. Then the Direct Messages started. He said he just broke up with his girlfriend, she cheated on him and he just wanted someone normal to talk to. I knew it wasn’t him. Did I want it to be him? Of course I did. I was mad that it wasn’t him. When the nonstop calling started I did the one thing you’re not supposed to do. I engaged.

I kept asking questions. The answers were evasive and the wording was strange. Whenever “let’s” was supposed to be used it wasn’t and there were a lot of mistakes in the grammar. It’s a pet peeve of mine. I asked about it and he said he had the flu. He must’ve come on here because he knew about my kidney situation and said he would do anything to help as long as he could “make me smile”. There were way too many “babes” and he kept saying he was looking for “true love”. Sorry, but you decide on a Bipolar woman who has been sober over 9 years and has issues with trust and men?

I said I wouldn’t talk to him unless it was from a verified account. He made an excuse that his Twitter had been hacked so he couldn’t from there. I said “What about Instagram?” He said “OK” but never did it. At the same time I see that the real Steven Tyler is on plane so I asked the fake what he was doing. He said he had just had some visitors. I said “Did they ski dive over?” “Were they snakes?” He replied “You are funny” I said “I know I am because I’m looking at a picture of the real Steven Tyler sitting on a plane right now you idiot”. I haven’t heard from him since. The snakes were in reference to “Snakes on a Plane” I was amusing myself at that point.

It still pisses me off and makes me sad at the same time. I love Steven Tyler. I don’t want my memories of him to be tarnished by some asshole. I admit I’ve always wanted to be around people in the music industry. People who write lyrics that I love and identify with. So many of them have experienced the same things I have as far as mental health and addiction and having it centered around the music scene. But I’m not delusional, well maybe a little. Maybe I just miss the days of going to concerts and meeting bands, hanging out backstage. I wonder what it would’ve been like if I looked like I do now instead of the large girl who was like one of the guys.

I’m too old to think like this and maybe I do it to protect myself from actually being in the real world.1a8558e0c844a70f89c943a1be855a8e


I had to leave the house today. It scared me and I didn’t want to. As I was driving on the highway I suddenly felt sad. Sad like I’ve never known. No one took my calls. I then felt like drinking. I have not felt the need to drink in years. After that came the question “What if I just let go of the wheel?” Then a tiny voice said “What the fuck are you doing?”.

I turned the car around and went to an Emergency Psychiatric Facility I had read about last year. I forced myself out of my car and into the building. I stood outside their door watching for about 10 minutes. My legs were shaking and my hands felt numb.

I eventually went in and stood in a corner shaking. A kind woman behind the glass came out and asked me if I needed help. I told her I did. I was stuttering badly and crying. One of the Social Workers told her he would fit me in as soon as possible. I heard him say “She has Conversion Disorder which is making it difficult for her to give information”. He spent 2 hours talking to me, getting all of my background information, my family history, everything about me that might be important.

Usually you have to wait a few months before seeing one of their Psychiatrists for an assessment but they had been monitoring me since I walked in and the Director of Psychiatry took an interest and made room to see me next Friday for 2 hours. They take Medicare. The Director is a woman which the male Social Worker thought I might have an easier time talking to because of some of the things I’ve been through and because I’ve never had a female psychiatrist.

We decided not to let my current psychiatrist know anything until I’ve decided if I’m going to keep going to them. I already liked the fact that the Social Worker was surprised my doctor put me on a new medication that was potentially dangerous and then didn’t want to see me for 6 months. It made me feel better, like I wasn’t the only one who thought he was dropping the ball.

This was a big step for me. Usually I would’ve needed my sister or my dad with me but I’m learning that isn’t always possible or fair.On-My-Own-Quotes-006



These were some of the places I drank at, had fun at or got in trouble at. I met interesting people and I met some of the worse people. Some are known and some are no longer here.

I remember filling my purse with Purple Passion and sneaking it in to Rocky Point. We weren’t old enough to drink. We would go to see hair bands that hadn’t exactly “made it” yet. Of course me being me while drunk, I made sure W and I met them all. It helped that W is extremely attractive. The problem was she never knew it and didn’t know how to use it. I could talk a good game if I was drunk so it worked.

The problem with W not knowing how attractive she was is I had to be alert at all times.

One night there were two guys in black leather jackets with long black curly hair. One of them was in his 30’s and had a walking stick. He didn’t need a walking stick. He was using it to lift the skirts of girls/women that walked by. I noticed it but W did not. I never wore mini skirts or any skirts and even if I did I doubt anyone would try to look under it. I was still around 200 pounds at the time.

We walked by and sure enough I see the stick headed W’s direction and she still had no clue. It touched the inside of her thigh when I grabbed it and threw it into the Beer Garden. People were not happy. But I didn’t care. No one hurt W and she felt the same about me.

We met Danger Danger, Kip Winger (I accidentally insulted his height by calling him petite), Pantera (Bad choice to go into the pit. Then I don’t remember the rest of the night where I supposedly brought them to a friends house for refreshments), Dream Theater, another band that begins with a S like Slaughter that wore flannels but I can’t remember the name. We probably went to a lot of shows there I just can’t remember.

Club Babyhead wasn’t for the weak. It was kind of crazy and we weren’t supposed to be in there. You couldn’t avoid getting hit by someone. Most likely it was going to be this football player/wrestler we had gone to school with. He was huge and it was all muscle. He was an attractive guy but not someone you could talk politics with or anything else too difficult. I was kicked out for good when I had words with the bouncer, another large man with a shiny bald head. This is where my bro in law first met Green Day and they stayed at his mom’s house. BFF’s ever since. So you know it wasn’t yesterday.

The Station is hard to talk about. The fire was horrible, the loss of lives haunting. I had my own demons with the place and the people who worked and went there. I did a lot of drinking there. I was never cut off. I would go with J and he would be passed out at the bar one minute and have another beer in front of him the next. I had seen people puke and go back to being served. I didn’t care at the time because I was still being served.

I also started going to The Station before I was 21. It depended on who I was with and who was working the door. Some of them let me in for extra cash and some for free if I was with the right person.

I met Sebastian Bach for the first time there, a guy who had been in KISS once gave me a lovely offer that I declined, I spent time with Zakk Wylde and his family when I found out my Mom had Lung Cancer, had a run in with the lead singer of RATT, spent hours talking to the lead singer of White Lion Mike Tramp, there were probably more but I don’t remember. There were more bad memories than good that went with the place. I was banned once but I don’t remember why. I do remember my phone ringing nonstop the night of the fire. People thought I still went there and were afraid I was there that night.

At Lupo’s I remember seeing FIGHT and I think VOIVOD was opening. I got into a fight with W’s boyfriend and my cousin went home with a member of VOIVOD that even I wouldn’t have touched with a 10 foot pole. He kept asking if I was joining them the entire ride back to J’s apartment. His English wasn’t great and neither was his name which fit him perfectly.

The METOO movement has brought up many unpleasant things for me. I’ve been sexually assaulted in some way or another more times than I like to admit. At first I thought I deserved it. I had such low self-esteem and the people I hung around with used it to their advantage. When I did tell someone nothing was done because they said “You were drunk. We can’t take your statement seriously.” The other problem was one of the people in the group had a Father that was friendly with members of the police department.

I take responsibility for continuing to drink and be in their company. That was my choice. It made me an angry, suspicious, and at times violent, person. I went from low self-esteem to raging bitch after several years of being treated like garbage.

I got a little better when I stopped having anything to do with them. Unfortunately memories like those never fade and that rage would come back now and then.

A career didn’t keep me silent, money or fame didn’t keep me silent, out and out fear kept me silent. When you’re beaten so badly you don’t recognize yourself in the mirror and you try to tell your family that you didn’t fall down the stairs drunk he did it to you and they say “We just can’t believe you anymore. You’re a drunk”. It changes your view of the World.

Eventually my family found out the truth. It was too late. The damage had been done. I was so scared when it was happening because at one point I couldn’t breathe. Blood was going down the back of my throat and my nose was swollen shut and bleeding also. I was pinned to the floor so I couldn’t lift my head, I felt like I was drowning. I just saw red and black before passing out. I then woke up at the bottom of his apartment stairs with him laughing at the top coming down towards me.

I don’t know. Lately everything bothers me. All the different movements. No one seems to have a story like mine. A shame filled, alcohol filled, hate filled, mental illness filled, never ending self loathing story.



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