My insecurities

            I woke up today and hated myself like I have so many days before. I am sitting in tears that I stuff deeper into all the boxes I constructed to keep you from hurting me. I hate my fears. I hate my eyes. I would rip them out and give them to you if only you could see me. You pass through my life. You slipped through my fingers. I can see your hazy reflection. You are like an outline of the life that I imagined for myself.

            Some days, I wake up and I hate myself. Not dislike, not like “oh I wish you would say some nice shit about me so I can feel better.” Some days I wish I could hold my breath until I am safe. It is part of knowing you spent six years with a needle hanging out of your arm. It is part of why I used in the first place. My anxiety. My insecurities. You want to know me. You say you want to know every single part of me? The bitter comes with sweet. The tears taste like salt from the ocean where I tried to drown my sorrows. At least this story comes with a happy ending.


Below is a link to a work shop I did on anxiety and depression.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xTMWxwPb9Xk&list=LL0Jja3aBDiMk2SIbgG0EZTA&feature=mh_lolz

Comments

  1. K.July 17, 2013 at 4:19 PM

    I'm so sorry you felt bad. :(

    ReplyDelete
  2. Jamie AnneSeptember 9, 2013 at 2:35 PM

    Very empowering workshop you gave. I hope it was well received and helped those you partook in the event, and anyone else out here in the cyber world who came across it. Taking time for you, is always a good practice to maintain stress. Believing you deserve it, is essential to well being. Affirmations work.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Black Tar Heroin 10 questions answered

Image
I want to get this in one place. Here you go When was the film made? The film was made from Dec 1995 to Dec 1997. Originally the film was supposed to be for one year but I believe when HBO picked up the film they wanted two years. How were you picked for the film? Steven met a bunch of different people at the youth needle exchange. He wanted subjects that were slightly younger than me. He filmed a few other people  that never made it into the final film Were you paid for the film? No. I was not paid for the film. he bought me a hotel to stay in for a week and bought me lunch a few times. I think they left some money for me when I was in jail too. Documentary film makers, in general, don't pay their subjects. Was I friends with the other people from the film ? Sort of. I never knew Alice. I met Oreo when he was 15 or 16. He was VERY young when the film was made. His mom used to work the desk in one of the hotels I lived in. Jake and I used to hang out. At one point he had
Read more

Jamie

   Being able to fall apart is a luxury many people don’t have. They carry their burdens until it breaks them.  Miss Jamie was one of the most aesthetically pleasing  women I had ever seen in my life. She simply glowed. When she entered a room, everyone had to stop to pay attention. She took that space over. Her smile was radiant. Her energy was infectious. She was a fireball of a human. Her petite frame was always draped with carefully selected skirts, dresses, and form fitting sweaters. She paired this with her signature plum lipstick and acrylics.  She always came late in the day, usually when I had the lowest energy. Yet, I never refused her entrance. I was happy to see her. Happy to listen to her while she held court in my desk area.      On this day, Jamie was wheeled into the clinic by a person I had never seen before. Instead of scrubs, he looked as if he had woken up on the streets. He looked left like a caretaker, more like a person in need of our services. Our patients i
Read more

Another chapter in dopesick love

"Hand me the alcohol wipes" I reach over the bed " this is finally starting to drain" He hand me two packets of alcohol pads.  "Damn Tracey. How many fucking times are you going to do this to yourself?" That question rang in my mind for a month to come. I had been performing surgery on myself. I was laying on the bed of our hotel room. We had hustled all day to get the $35 we needed to stay here tonight plus money for dope. Soon, we will have to do the whole thing all over again. For now, I needed a place where I could take off my pants. I needed to lance this abscess to get the pressure off. It wasn't getting all that red or hard but it hurt to walk. I knew the signs. I knew when to go to the doctor. I had been there many times before. The clinic would slice me open and send me on my way with some sterile water and gauze to pack my wounds.   I was quite the amateur doctor, at least in my mind. I had taken a new syringe and stuck in the middle of
Read more