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Poetry

MY JOURNEY THROUGH ADDICTION
In my addiction, I was a liar.
My only goal then was how to get higher.
Numbing out thoughts and ‘passing the buck,’
Beaten and bruised, and clear out of luck.
Hurting all those who once loved me most
And borrowing cash from coast to coast.
While abandoning morals and losing all pride,
Shame and regret’s all I felt deep inside.
My job and my husband just got in the way,
‘Cause both had stopped giving me money to play.
Got arrested, molested, then lived at the Six.
(Went to such shameful lengths to get my next fix).
Unable to sleep, just stayed on my feet,
Stealing and wheeling and dealing *repeat.*
Excuses, abuses, I just didn’t care.
Self-loathing and cutting sure got me nowhere.
Now a shell of the outgoing girl I once was
(Well, I threw her away for a ten-minute buzz).
No, family, no friends, no money for drugs,
Just sketchy motels and hanging with thugs.
No motivation, no pride, no reprieve.
“I’m better off dead!” I came to believe.
Shattered and broken, I dropped to my knees,
Looked upwards and cried, “Dear Lord, help me please!
I’m done, I give in. I just tired and spent!”
And before I realized it, I began to repent.
“Please show me the way, please give me a sign!”
I waited and wondered if there was still time.
I then heard some voices so I turned and found
About five or six people just standing around.
Their faces looked bright, and they spoke with such ease
Like my friends and I did, before this disease.
Filtering inside the church one-by-one,
I wanted so badly to join in their fun.
Where were they going? To Church? Now? Mid-week?
Still, they seemed to have all the things that I seek.
Next, what I saw, just left me mind-blown…
The church-window sign read “You’re no longer alone.”
I lost it, I bawled, for my sign … was a sign!
And from that moment on, I just knew I’d be fine.
I found myself creeping towards the church door
(Two A’s side by side assured me once more).
“Hey there, I’m Steve, take a load off, come in!”
(I doubt they’d be smiling if they’d knew where I’d been,
And all the people I’ve hurt, all the bad things I’ve done,
And why, just to escape this thing I’d become?)
So, o’er the next hour they spoke of their past.
Their story was mine….was I home at long last?
They shared from the Big Book and explained the twelve steps.
For sobriety, was I willing to go to such depths?
YES! It was worth anything I had in me to give.
Tired of just getting by, I now wanted to live!
So I took a deep breath, no longer melancholic
I said “Hi my name is Tracy. I’m an addict and alcoholic”
July 17, 2023

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MY JOURNEY THROUGH ADDICTION In my addiction, I

Poetry

Hopelessness in Alcoholism
This isn’t going as I planned
It’s like I’m racing through quick sand
Too proud to call out for a hand
I wish that I could understand
Or perhaps if I could just rewind
That first drink I took to be kind
I’d likely not be so inclined
If I knew the madness I’d designed
My skin is crawling day and night
I scoff when up comes morning light
I steal, I hide, I scream and fight
Too many wrongs that I can’t right
How did this take such a hold of me?
I used to have a close family
And dreams and friends that I would see
But the bottle’s now priority
It’s sad just how relieved I feel
The bottle has such great appeal
And it’s not all that I conceal
Yet, I’d choose it over any meal
The smell of the LCBO
The shameful lengths that I will go
It will be my demise, I know
Committing suicide real slow
I don’t deserve a second chance
So don’t give me a second glance
Into addiction I advance
Such Unfortunate circumstance
Jan 30, 2024

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Hopelessness in Alcoholism This isn’t going as I

Poetry

My Childhood
I remember when I was about four or five,
Making up dances, felt so alive.
Sleep overs often, I had friends all around.
At night, unafraid, I’d sleep safe and sound.
Then as a preteen, when puberty hit,
I began to compare, just not sure where I fit.
This girl was faster and that girl was slim…
My outlook on life became fear-filled and grim.
I dressed how they dressed, I adopted new slang,
And dashed for the phone every time that it rang.
I wanted so badly to just not stand out,
And by the time I hit high school I’d started to sprout.
Perhaps if I ate less and got name brand shoes…
I could numb insecurities with Daddy’s booze,
Just a little nip here, perhaps another nip there,
A few sips before class so I could just sit and stare.
Before long I realized I was drinking each day,
I ate lunch alone and soon quit the school play.
I stopped caring so much about what others thought,
And forgot almost everything that I was just taught.
For, my best friend in the world was contained in a bottle,
And I no longer cared about becoming a model.
I no longer cared about much anymore,
And would often wake up on a strange bedroom floor.
No more dances in courtyards, just drinking alone.
My dealer’s the only number I call on the phone.
How did this happen? Where did I go wrong?
Perhaps this was my destiny all along….
January 26, 2024

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My Childhood I remember when I was about

Poetry

My Good Friend Tina

I love to watch the crystal melt from a solid to liquid gold
The smoke, it swirls and dances free; wish I could be so bold
She hits my lungs, then veins, then heart and quickly takes effect
My pupils large, as she takes charge of this high, willing subject
I press the gas, perhaps too fast and my thoughts pick up in pace
Worries and fears and emotionless tears and no concept of time or space
An hour goes by, I’m still in the same spot, clenched muscles now achy and sore
With spasms and ticks added into the mix, I reach over and smoke some more
I barely get by on this dopamine high yet remain unfocussed and dazed
My brain cells recede as I pick and I bleed, only mildly aware, but not phased
The addict in me chooses this misery over seeing my family or friends
She rules all my time and she takes my last dime and not once has e’er made amends

4/10/2023 (2 weeks before treatment for crystal meth addiction)

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My Good Friend Tina I love to watch

Poetry

Working in Addiction
I can’t be that bad, I still have a job,
I answer the phone and don’t look like a slob.
I shower each day and I’m often on time,
And besides, no one knows, so I guess that I’m fine.
But inside my head, my thoughts swirl like fire.
If only they knew what it was I desire?
With a fake smile on, I appear to fit in,
But I don’t feel at home within my own skin.
It takes all I’ve got just to get through the day,
I’m running on fumes despite what I convey.
I’m a slave to the bottle and I’m dying inside.
‘Don’t you dare tell a soul!’ says my ego and pride.
How did this happen? I once had it all!
I laughed, I had friends, back then life was a ball.
But all the bad stuff that I ever went through
Was pushed so far down and kept secret from you.
I wouldn’t let myself cry or feel any trauma,
I just auto-piloted through being a wife and a Momma.
But soon even that wasn’t enough to conceal
The flashbacks and pain that were becoming too real.
But alas alcohol could keep me on track,
(It was nice to know something at least had my back!)
Used to drink just on weekends while hanging with friends,
But in no time the means did not lead to the ends.
I drank more and more, both in frequency and amount
Soon my number of friends, on one hand I could count.
And my job is now hanging on by a tiny thread,
My weekends are spent hung over in bed.
Everything’s spiraling out of control,
And keeping my job was my only goal,
But I sit at my desk and I stare at the screen
Then nip to the washroom, afraid to be seen
I take a quick sip for a moment’s relief
But even that moment gets more and more brief.
I still have a job, so I’m under control
Now please go away while I try and act whole
May 2, 2024

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Working in Addiction I can’t be that bad,

Poetry

Relations in the First Year of Sobriety

I’m told no big changes in my first sober year…
Just meetings and service, no drugs and no beer.
But the elders who say this just don’t understand,
Being single this year is not what I had planned.
A woman has needs and I’m going insane!
No drinking or drugs, now I must also abstain?
Come on, it’s only an hour or two that I seek
To let off some steam, why not just once a week?
If my problem is booze and I’m not even attached,
Why can’t I seek out to get this itch scratched?
At meetings I size up each guy one by one,
And wonder which one might be up for some fun.
I’m lonely, I’m bored, what harm can it do?
I’m now eight months sober and so long past due!
Come on my dear Sponsor and let me go play.
What’s wrong with an occasional romp in the hay?
No feelings, no connection, just raw carnal play
No one needs to know, we’re adults, its ok!
Let’s play out the tape? You say, knowingly
You want me to learn what it is that you see
Things might get awkward, so I’ll avoid where he goes
But rumours and whispers and soon everyone knows
I’ll start missing the meetings where I used to feel fine
And my mental and spiritual health will decline
Is an hour of fun worth this great life that I’ve found?
Nope, for now I think I’ll keep both my feet on the ground
Jan 18, 2024

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Relations in the First Year of Sobriety I’m

Poetry

Beyond the High

One says that clear head leads to good life led
but a habit of getting right sabotages a clean mind,

process of detoxing a poisoned body
struggling to tolerate withdrawal and stay alive.

the sweats, shakes and stomach aches,
what is real and what is fantasy so blended.

Dancing with death, controlled by deep pain,
living in illusions until the brain is mended.

the high…

and when did living life stop being enough?
intoxication just road blocks and hand cuffs.

So embrace the possibilities of thinking,, laughing, dreaming,
sweet sunshine, warm embrace, living life with real meaning.

to be alive, to be present, to exist with mind clear
acting from the heart, love realized, inner spirit finally set free.

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Beyond the High One says that clear head

Personal Journeys, Poetry

The bitter taste of serenity
The pleasure of my guilt
The loneliness of peace
The paradise I have built

The weeks feel like days
The years feel like months
Occasions turn irrelevant
Relationships turn blunt

I watch my whole world Crumble
My conscience is not phased
I definitely don’t need therapy
Don’t tell me that I’m crazed

Next week will be different
The lies I tell myself
Addiction is a mind set
I fucking hate myself

The mind a temple
But temples they can fall
It’s time to kick the habit
Or the habit will take it all

The path that I am walking
I feel I am alone
I have no one to talk to
I have no place at home

I scream out loud for help
But only I can hear
If you could see inside my mind
You’d likely shed a tear

And as the days go on
It seems to last much longer
Reality is a fantasy
It’s grip is getting stronger

So as these words conclude
Be weary where you tread
Your love could be the difference
Of Wether I’m alive or dead

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The bitter taste of serenity The pleasure of