Monday, April 23, 2012


In less than 3 weeks I've seen 2 women who were instrumental in my initial sobriety come back in to AA after a relapse.  I know relapse is unfortunately a part of addiction but it's so painful to see.  I want to be able to give my success to everyone.  I also have to remember that my success, though huge to me, is really nothing in the big picture.  4 months is miniscule.  People go out again after years.  Addiction is never something you're done with.

The good news is that both women came back.  Many go out and end up dead, in jail, etc.  Still, a person always comes back in more pain after a relapse.  My relapse was so early on (less than 2 months in) that it hardly counted, and yet it still was SO hard to come back in.  After I quit initially I still wanted to drink, but I could manage the craving.  After my relapse, which only lasted for 2 days, it was an absolute obsession.  I had to be on the phone with someone while driving to and from work to make sure I got to where I was going rather than stopping at the liquor store.  I had to talk myself through every move I made because I didn't trust myself not to go drink.  It wasn't one day at a time, it was one minute at a time.  One breath at a time.

I can't imagine what it's like to go out after years of sobriety.  I can't imagine how hard it is to start over like that.  I'm glad both of these women are back.  I hope they'll stay.  If you don't mind please say a prayer for K and for P.  Also for C who has been in and out and all over the place, and J who was brand new at the meeting tonight and clearly so so afraid.  Ugh, so many ppl to pray for.  So many hurting ppl.

(I talked to J after the meeting and told her I could relate to her fears.  I told her my very favorite line, that was so amazing to me at one of my first meetings, that she never has to be alone again.  She said she wanted to call me so I made sure she had my number.  But I know it's so so so hard to actually pick up the phone and call someone you don't know when you're new.  Well it's hard even when it's someone you do know and you're not new, but so much harder when it's something you've never done before).

Guess that's all.  Just wishing I could take people's pain away tonight.  Hate to see good people hurting so much.

24 hours of thought -- Sooo funny!

So I've been going through some of the stuff recovered from my apartment, and I came across the notebook that they gave when I was in the ER back in August.  They wouldn't let me have my journal because apparently the spiral binding was dangerous, so they gave me this other notepad instead.  I started writing and didn't stop for the next 24 hours or so (there was no way I was sleeping that first night).  The result is a hilarious mismash of thoughts, emotions, etc.  Well, it's not all funny.  The first page or so scares me because I really don't sound like myself.  I sound like a child.  For those that weren't around my blog back then or don't remember, my trip to the hospital involved multiple cops grabbing me hard enough to leave bruises, hands all over me to search me, being handcuffed, then tied down to the stretcher.  More than a little traumatizing!  By the time I made it to the ER I was very, very disoriented.  When they asked me what had happened for me to end up there I honestly couldn't remember.  Anyway, I'm tempted to post the whole 24 hours because it really is amazing, but it's also more than 20 pages so I thought I'd give some highlights instead.  I'm skipping the really traumatized stuff.  I'm sure ya'll can imagine.  

This starts right after the really traumatized, panicky stuff:

"I really want to go home.  Don't like being locked in here.  I need a window.  There shouldn't be places without windows.  Everyone needs a window.

I was just asked if I'm doing ok.  I wonder what that means.  Exactly what kind of ok are they looking for and how would I know if I am it?  I'm every level of miserable.  "Yep," I'm ok.  Nice.  I don't think they want the truth.

I hate every fucking thing about this damn place.  I've been locked up way too many times in my life.  How is this supposed to make me feel BETTER?!  Once again the punishment for feeling lousy.  Nice.  Would anyone feel good in here?  Oh and give me a damn window already!  But if my spiral notebook is a danger I'm sure I could do all sorts of evil with a window.

Yeah they probably don't want to hear that."

Later on I go back to the spiral notebook and the window, wondering if there's a book somewhere of crazy shit ppl have tried in psych hospitals.  I mean there must be some really entertaining ones considering the stuff they've banned.  Here's some more ranting from a bit later on:

"Why do I seem to be the last priority here?  Stuff is happening with the people on both sides of me but I seem to be the forgotten one.  Oh well, at least I didn't have to deal with being the forgotten one at the regular ER first.  I guess coming in attached to the bed does have its advantages."

I am rather impressed with myself that I managed to keep my sense of humor, as freaked out and suicidal as I was.

"I'm going to have to pee in that stupid cup soon.  I wonder what kind of drugs they think I'm on.  I know it's standard but I still wonder.  They clearly think i'm on something.  My "I don't remember" line probably didn't help anything but I really don't.  funny how a quick re-traumatization can knock the slate clean."

"They just changed the board in here.  I have three techs now.  Or maybe one person with 3 names.  Amanda John Brad would be a very odd name, but weirder things have happened.  I wonder what a tech is.

I'm tired.  It's 8:15 now.  I wish I had a window.  The board says I have a new Dr. ignoring me now.  Dr. Riley.  I like that name.  I wonder if it's a boy or a girl.  It's probably the last name."

At this point I went in to a very long-winded bit about how I like the name Riley for a boy or a girl, and how I find it interesting that it brings up very different images as a male name vs. a female.  Then I went on to say that I felt bad for the 40-something male Riley's of the world because ppl would see their name and expect them to be a little girl.  (I taught a ski lesson and all I knew was that my student's name was Riley.  I experienced that surprise.  lol)  I continued into a whole bunch about what names should and shouldn't be used on both genders and how certain names annoy me.  After a brief movie reference I got back to the peeing in the cup:

"I'm gonna have to go pee in that damn cup now.  I'm taking this notebook with me though.  I don't care what they say.  I don't trust these people not to read it.  I really hope I can go home tomorrow.  I really need clean underwear.  But can't ask anyone to bring it for me unless I can convince them to wash it first."

I then got distracted reminiscing about the last time I was in the hospital and wondering if this one was going to be like that one.  Then a bit about ppl I wished were there.  Then:

"I forgot to pee.  I'll go do that now.

It's a good thing this isn't really a letter as I sure do mention pee a lot."

This whole thing had started as a letter to a friend but clearly it didn't stay that way for long. lol

"Know what's weird?  It's Tuesday.  Yeah, that's weird."

Later I was talking about seeing the hospital staff eating dinner and thinking about how hungry I was.  I went through what I had eaten (a granola bar, and that I was grateful to my former employer for giving me a big box of them cus I'd basically been living off them), and then I wondered what I needed to do to get food.  Apparently I eventually got some:

"Have you ever noticed that skepticism breeds skepticism?  They poured out my water cus they thought it was lord knows what.  Now I'm scared to death of this "turkey sandwich" they just brought me.  Slab of turkey with crap white bread attached to it.  Talk about life of luxury here!  Eh, I never have been one to turn down free food.  This is pushin' it though.  It comes with a note that says I ordered it too late.  Haha.

I wonder if the guy in the orange jumpsuit is still here.  I wonder what his story is.  Funny that of the two of us he had much more freedom of movement.

At least there's mayo for the sandwich.  Mayo makes everything better.  I'm choosing not to notice that the mayo is yellow.

It's a good thing I like to write.  Don't know what I would've done with all this time otherwise.  It's 9:00 now.  I sure would like a drink.  Or 5.

I feel a little better now that I'm eating.  It's craptastic, but edible.

I wonder where I'll be this time tomorrow.  I'll be 27 then.  Strange.  I remember thinking I'd be normal by the time I was 20.  Or 18 even.  Ha ha.  Ha ha ha.  No 18 year olds are normal, and most 20 year olds aren't so that part's understandable, but still."

Saying understandable got this song: in my head so I wrote out a bunch of the lyrics to that, and wrote about some fun times I had with a friend singing that song.  Then I went in to why it was good I didn't have a gun, mainly because there would've been "a lot of kablooey brain splatter."  lol  Back to something a bit more light-hearted:

"I saw a great bumper sticker earlier today.  It said "I wish Morgan Freeman narrates my life." or something like that.  That'd be pretty cool.  Except that my life is pretty boring...with intermittant bits of crazy chaos.  

I wonder why they still aren't coming to talk to me.  Maybe I need to look bored-er.  Or unstabler.  Damn my getting punished for doing well.  Doh!"

I'm noticing I was very convinced I was getting punished for one thing or another.  lol It's hard to have any perspective when you're locked in like that.  Later I started getting tired...but refused to lay in the bed because it had the restraints on it:

"I'm really sleepy.  I wish the bed wasn't so scary.

2% milk tastes a bit like garbage.  I'd forgotten that.  I wonder if I'd like skim milk now even.  My stomach seems unhappy with it.  But I want the calories.  All 120 of them.  Ha."

I'm allergic to dairy so I hadn't had "real" milk in a long time.  At this point they moved me from the ER to the psych unit and took away my pen and gave me a tiny golf pencil.

"I've been demoted to a pencil now.  Those pens are dangerous business.  It's 12:50 now.  So much for sleep.  I was actually feelin pretty good at 10 or so sleepin on the floor with the wonder drug.  I got a few minutes of actual sleep and I felt kinda sorta good.  I was singing Fantasia-like ice skating type songs in my head while watching the feet move through the hall through the crack under the door.  To make it not scary it was like a dance.  With cheesy music.  I smiled.  A few times.

Now we're back to the crap.  I don't know why I thought I'd get my own room.  Why didn't I realize I'd have to share a room?  especially not with 3 others.  Yikes!"

I don't remember what the wonder drug was, but the woman who gave it to me said it was like having a drink.  I couldn't grab it from her fast enough! lol  Those of you that know my frontierville obsession will appreciate this next part:

"At least tomorrow I can apparently get online so I can check on my poor lil cows and geese.  They must be so lonely!  They haven't had anyone tending to them for hours!  So unusual for them!  They're going to think they've been deserted by the end of this if I wasn't able to visit them.  So for the baby cows' sake, yay for having internet!"

Don't worry, I did eventually get to updating people by way of the internet as well...not just the baby cows.  lol  After a rant about how I had to update ppl cus it was my birthday, and my complete lack of party planning abilities...

"In other news, people shouldn't be allowed to ask me so many questions when I'm this tired.  I'm volunteering all sorts of information that they really don't need to know at all.  I could've kept my mouth shut on A LOT of that stuff.  Argh!

Why did writing A LOT make me think of houses?  I want to watch the movie Up again.  Funny how I didn't like it much the first time I saw it but I've liked it more and more every time since.  Always reaching new levels of awesomeness.  Like ME!  Haha yeah right.  But anyway...

This place is nutty!  And not just because it's filled with all of us crazies.  How can I sleep in a room with 3 people I've never met before who are likely at least as crazy as I am?  Yikes!

I really am tired though.  I'm going to have to change my name to sir-yawns-a-lot.  errr ma'am?  Ma'am is so much less fun for nicknames!  I guess I could go Native American style and say she-who-yawns-often, or she-who-yawns-like-great-puppy.  Yeah that could work.  Puppy yawns are the best!"

I think she-who-yawns-like-great-puppy might be my favorite line in the whole thing because it's just so damn random!  After a bit of writing about puppies I know, I continued...

"So I think this notebook is going to become my thing.  After all, 15 pages in one evening is not too shabby.  I'll be like Harriet the Spy or something, documenting everything in my handy dandy notebook.  Oh wait, that's Blues Clues.  But at least then we get to proclaim that we're really smart, and that's always fun.

In West Philadelphia born and raised, on the playground is where I spent most of my days.  Yeah I have weird songs in my head right now.  Did you know that New Kids on the Block had a bunch of hits/  Oh, and Chinese food makes me sick."

If that last line doesn't make sense to you, go here:  It doesn't get much more awesomely bad than that.  

"Apparently my body is attempting to avoid sleep.  Though it's getting tougher.  Maybe I should try though.  I've been spilling stuff I never thought I'd say.  So unfair to be interviewed by a psychiatrist at 2am!  It's like army torture!  They wear you down slowly til you spill.  Scared to think of what's going to happen tomorrow.  Needles at 4am?  It's my birthday damnit!"

I'm not sure what needles I was referring to.  Apparently they were telling me they were going to come back to take blood or something.

"Have I mentioned lately how much I absolutely hate this place?  I thought they were going to come with meds but apparently not.  I'm curious but not sure if it's worth going to check to find out.  Might be able to sleep on my own at this point but kinda want the meds if they're offering.  It's 2:50 AM, do you know where your brain is?  I sure as hell don't!"

From there it's more whining and trying to guess when they start counting the 72 hour hold time from.  Then I start talking about how sick I'm feeling.  I was probably detoxing but I wasn't about to admit that might be what's making me sick.  Then a long rant about how I want to lock myself in a hotel room and do nothing but drink, because that was my dream at that point.  

"Maybe once everyone else gets up I can go to sleep.  I like alone.  A lot.  That's all I want.  Alone.

I wish I could go outside.  It's too stuffy and inside here. (Yes, it's too inside

My stomach hurts.

I want to play softball.

I complain a lot."

A new pencil...more complaining about the lack of outside and how it's making me much I want to much I want to go for a walk outside...(they teased us by saying we were going for a walk, which turned out to be playing a video and having ppl walk in place.  How lame is THAT?!  Apparently the tiredness began catching up with me again:

"I wish I could take a nap.  Naps are fun.  This couch is kinda nice.  I could sleep on it.  I'd like to put the TV on but that's a no no.  Lots of things are no nos here.  This must be what it feels like to be 2.

I remember reading that article a while ago, about life from a 2 year old perspective:  Constantly being redirected, fun adventures quashed for reasons you don't understand, and beautiful fun looking places out there but just out of your reach.  You see other people getting to do what you want, but you're forever trapped behind the baby gate.  You wonder and dream about escape, but escape is nowhere to be found.  You're teased with it, sometimes you get a tiny taste, then back behind the gate."

More ranting...counting hours...apparently it was 10:40, which meant I had 54 hours left, which made me depressed.  Then how much I wanted pills, how lonely I was, and "happy fucking birthday to me." Back to the tiredness:

"I need a nap.  Nap.  Nap.  Nap.  Yeah my thought process has become limited.  Nap.  Nap.  Nap.  Nap.  Nap.  Nap.  Oh and did I mention?  Nap."

More talk of my time being wasted...(they really did seem to ignore me the entire first day...which was frustrating because I had SO much to do outside the hospital and I felt like as long as I was there they should be at least talking to me).  More concern over the frontierville cows...Some commentary on one nurse being bitchy to the others...some congratulating myself because "I may not be able to do much, but I sure can write a lot of shit!"  And then I reach the point where they must have finally paid attention to me, or given me sleeping meds, or something, because it ends rather abruptly.  

"I wish I could write faster.  I have lots of songs in my head.  Which is now la bamba.  Funny how being in a hospital is making me sick.  Stupid hospital.  Trix are for kids."

LOL love that.  Stupid hospital, Trix are for kids!  So this is still long, and may not be funny to anyone else besides me, but I've read it through multiple times and still crack up every time.  There was soooo much craziness in my head during all of that.  And parts of it bring back such distinct sitting out in the hallway pissing off the night nurses because I refused to go in my room w/3 other ppl I didn't know, especially not to sleep.  Then having those same nurses tell me it's probably better I stay in the hallway since there were more ppl coming back to talk to me and what not they might as well just have me wait there.  What a time that was.  It all got much better the 2nd night when they gave me amazing sleeping pills and I slept a very very deep sleep for at least 12 hours straight.  Gave a whole new perspective on the world!  Anyway, hope you all have enjoyed this journey through my random thoughts.  :)

In other news, I just got a call from my friend from IOP who was in jail due to a DUI.  I've mentioned her in the past...she had gotten her 3rd DUI prior to coming in to IOP and ended up going to jail for it even though they were waaaaaaay spaced out (like the others were 18 and 20 years ago) and she was doing really well on her own, but it's a mandatory sentence for your 3rd.  Anyway, she is out now and it was so good to hear from her.  We're meeting for lunch on Wednesday.  I've been trying to send her at least a card a week since she went in in January.  She said that my cards were "a ray of sunshine" and that the other women there would all get excited along with her.  Apparently ppl would ask her if she "got a new card from River?" and said they wanted their own River too.  (She said no, I'm not sharing! lol)  I'm a little embarrassed to know that lots of other ppl were reading my cards too.  Not because there was anything bad on them but they were all filled with my very dorky humor.  For example for her Easter card I was guessing there were no easter egg hunts in jail but what a great image it was to imagine one.  Then I drew her a "not very hard to find easter egg hunt" with a whole bunch of eggs in a row.  lol  On other cards I tried to find ways to get sparkles in them, because the first one was had sparkly stickers and I learned you can't send stickers to a jail.  (Apparently ppl put drugs in adhesive or something?).  Anyway, she said everyone liked them, so I guess I shouldn't be too worried.  If my dorkiness can make some bummed out ppl in jail smile, it's a good day.  :)

Thursday, April 19, 2012

I didn't deserve it

I didn't deserve what happened to me.  It's as simple as that.  They were the psychotic evil monsters.  It wasn't about me.

I remember one night when I was 9.  I was crawling/dragging myself up to my room after a particularly bad night with them.  I had so little left in me, I could barely lift an arm or a leg.  I surely couldn't stand.  I could barely see straight.  Everything hurt so bad I was sure I was dying.  I made it into my room and fell fully on to the floor.  I'd used every last ounce of my strength to get there.  I lay on the floor in a heap and I begged god to take me.  I begged and pleaded for death.

No child should know pain like that.  No one should really, but especially a child.  At 9 most kids are only beginning to understand death.  I'm not sure how much I understood it, but it was the only possible good I could picture.

That's not how any child should live.

I didn't deserve that.

Wednesday, April 18, 2012


Just a quick update about my life for the last month or so that I haven't been blogging:

School: School continues to be a struggle. I'm getting through and am almost done with the semester, but it feels like I'm constantly behind and lately have been struggling to focus. Some of my ADD meds were stolen so I've been really struggling with that. I had to go for almost a week without them. I've been back on them for about a week now but I think my brain is still trying to regulate. Plus I've been dealing with a lot of other stuff that is taking away my focus, but more on that later. I've almost completed the semester so I feel good about that.

IOP: I've officially graduated from IOP. It feels good, but strange at the same time. It was definitely my time to go. There were a lot of new people in the group and it seemed to be in a bit of a transition phase. No sense in staying just long enough to start to get to know new people and then leave. Plus I really don't need the 12+ hrs/week of therapy anymore. The days I was there were starting to feel like I was there because I wasn't sure where else to be. I'm still not sure where else to be, but that's something i'm working It feels strange to have so little structure in my life now. I'm not good at structuring my time when I don't have specific places to be, so I'm working on that. IOP gave me somewhere to be 3 mornings/week. I also just finished my weekend job so now most days I have nothing scheduled. Very strange. Oh and somehow with all that free time I still manage to be behind in school. Hmph. lol Anyway, I miss IOP now. It was like having a little family. I'm doing ok without the support but I do find myself wishing I had the group to talk to.

Spring break: Spring break was a few weeks ago. I mentioned it briefly before. I got to go up to the mountains where I used to live and see some good friends. I was a bit scared going in because most of the people i'm around where I live now are sober. In the mountains, not so much. I knew there would be A LOT of alcohol around. But the trip went amazingly well, I had so much fun, and through a lot of prayer and reading the Big Book I was able to make it through sober. I know that anywhere can seem amazing and perfect when you're only there for a few days, but I think this is a very good sign of me being able to some day successfully go back to the mountains and do well there. I really miss it. I even spoke to my former boss there and she told me how much she misses me and would love to have me back. Yay!

Sobriety: I've almost reached the 4 month mark of sobriety. Woohoo! I'm doing pretty well overall, though I've been getting in to some pretty deep stuff with my sponsor. She's been working with me on getting in to the past stuff, and past resentments. As ya'll know, I have a lot of those. For the first time ever I've told someone face to face about what happened. I told my foster mom a little, but with my sponsor I've really told her, including some of the more gruesome details. Ok not details exactly, but stuff like how many people were really involved and that kind of thing. It's been unbelievably draining and challenging for me, as you can probably see from my last post. See, for years now when this stuff came up I'd drink or I'd cut...anything to block it out and pretend it didn't exist. I thought that was the only way to handle it. Until that landed me in the hospital close to killing myself. So now I'm dealing with it without any numbing measures and holy hell it sucks. But what I'm starting to realize is that when I deal with it without pushing it away, I get a little bit stronger each time. When I push it away, it gets a little bit stronger each time. Now when I process things they seem to really be processed and I can start to feel strong again, and I can start making the scary stuff smaller. I feel like I'm actually taking my life back now. I'm grateful to have my sponsor and AA meetings right now because at times I'm feeling like I'm on the brink of insanity. But they all tell me if I just don't drink and don't cut it will get better. So I'm trusting in that. I finally got some sleep last night after many nights of barely sleeping, so maybe I'm on an upswing. :)

Oh, and my sponsor told me that the night after I told her about all this stuff she couldn't sleep because she was having flashbacks to my past. I felt really bad about that, and told her so, because no one should have to be drug into this nightmare. But she said that's how it works...that we hurt together and we get to succeed together. In a way it felt sorta redeeming though (not sure that's the right word) because if it can upset someone that much just to hear it, it makes sense how fucked up I am from living it.

Part of this step we're working on now is that after writing out my resentments and why they upset me then I have to write my part in them. This bothered me at first but I really like the way my sponsor explained it to me. She said I had no part in what they did to me and that that is no way my fault, but my part in it is that I continue to carry it around with me even today. She said it's time to learn to let that go. Easier said than done of course, but that's what we're working on.

Housing: So I've moved to my new house. It's been an interesting experience to say the least. I got used to living alone so it's strange to have people around. In some ways it's nice, but I forgot about all the issues that come with sharing space....sharing the kitchen, food, cleanliness, all that good stuff. Also my new roommate is very very motherly, so that causes us to collide sometimes. It wouldn't be an issue except that I have that deep down part of me that really really wants a mom, and loves the idea of living with a mom. But my roommate is not the right person to fill that role. So I have to keep reminding myself not to allow myself to get sucked in to it. I had a bit of a meltdown on Easter because they had a big family celebration at the house. They invited me and I was going to join them but then I just flipped out. It was too much family for me. I ended up making up a story about how I had to meet with someone to do homework (I sort of did, but really it was just to drop off a book w/her) and then just driving around for a while and finally sitting in the park for a bit. Oh and crying my eyes out somewhere in the middle of that. I had taco bell for my easter dinner, which made me happy. I'm not sure how long I'm going to stay here. I'd still like to get back to living in my own place, but I sooooo don't want to go out looking. Such a pain!

I guess that's all the big stuff in my life now. I'll probably think of more later. Overall it's intense, but not so bad. Thanks for sticking around even through my lack of posts. :)

Monday, April 16, 2012


So I know I "owe" you all lots of posts and info and all that. I really do plan to update on all the happenings in my life. There's been a lot. But right now there's stuff in my head that just needs to come out. Not sure where this will end up going. It could get ugly.

I've been thinking about the idea of justice a lot lately. I've been starting to move out of the fear/flashbacks/panic attacks about my past and i'm starting to see it more as an adult looking in rather than what I saw as a kid. Looking as an adult I'm disgusted, and angry. No, not angry. I'm fucking pissed off. They took my childhood. They took my innocence. They hurt me so bad. They took away my dignity and they used me. For years. Without ever even showing the slightest sign of remorse. They are sick, dirty bastards. They are evil. People have tried to tell me that no one is really evil but I say bullshit. You rape a child. Repeatedly. You and many others together. That's evil. There aren't words out there strong enough for these so called "men." They are hateful, disgusting, vile creatures. And I hate them.

So where the fuck is the justice? They caused so much pain, and I can't do anything back. They walk away free. It's not right. A good friend told me she believes justice will come someday. I'm trying to believe that too. Maybe in this life. Maybe in some sort of afterlife. All I know is they've left me trapped in this shit for years. Shit that doesn't go away. It wasn't just the initial hurt. It's the aftermath that doesn't go away.

They deserve to die. But not just any death. They deserve to be tied up and beaten the way I was. I want to see them cry and scream and beg for mercy. I want them to feel what I felt. Then they can die a slow, painful death. That still wouldn't make up for what they did, but it'd be a start. I want to torture them. I want them to feel everything I felt. I think that might make me evil too, but I'm ok with that right now.

Honestly up until the last couple of hours this anger has been scaring the hell out of me. I'm not a violent person. I'm not the type that wishes to hurt people. But wow this shit is intense. I've been trying to downplay it a bit I guess. I haven't been able to say out loud what I'm really thinking. But tonight I allowed myself to play out the whole scene I've been wishing for in my head, and wow did it feel good! So fucking empowering. I've spent years reliving the trauma that I went through in my mind. Over and over and over again. I've had years of flashbacks so intense my body hurts like it's happening again. But tonight it was different. Tonight the roles reversed. I watched them be tortured. I watched them in fear and in pain. Every time I started to get scared or worried because I was seeing the place where everything happened, I turned it on them and caused more pain to them. It was the best I've felt about things in a long, long time.

I got a burger for dinner tonight. My ultimate comfort food. No matter what else is happening, a burger from this particular place makes me feel a bit better.

I also went to an AA meeting tonight. It's one of my favorites. I've been going there for a while and there's some really great, supportive people there. I told them honestly that I was overwhelmed with really really strong emotion, including rage. I didn't tell details, except that it was related to stuff that had happened in the past that I'd always tried to push away or pretend didn't exist. And now I can't push them away anymore. I cried a bit while I was talking. Both of the ppl sitting next to me put their arms around me when I was done. Another friend came up and hugged me afterwards, and another stayed and talked to me for a bit.

So I was thinking of something as I drove home from the meeting with my burger. I was thinking about how cool it is that I have this place where I can be honest and cry and have people support me. I was also thinking about how nice it is to have these times where I can smile and be happy, even if it is about something silly like a burger. I thought about how I'm getting a chance at a new life. With the friend I talked to after the meeting...she's been sober for a long time...we talked about how if I stick with it and really work through this w/out drinking that it will get better....and I'll be looking back on this struggle as just a memory...and i'll be the one telling someone else who is struggling that it does get better. As hard as it is, deep down I believe her. Because i'm not "cheating" this time. I'm not drinking or drugging to dull the pain. I'm not cutting myself to avoid feeling. I'm feeling it, and it sucks worse than anything has ever sucked (ok exaggeration but you get the point), but I'm doing it. And eventually I'll feel it until there's nothing left to feel. And I'll become a whole person. I'm really starting to believe in the process of working the steps in AA. I didn't really believe it but I think I'm seeing it now. If I can get through this and stick with it, I can truly leave the past behind. Not push it away but really be done with it.

So as I finished my "fantasy" of my power over the evil ones, I smiled. They haven't taken everything.

But here's what I really learned. I have the chance at a new life. They don't. They're sick. The kind of sick that doesn't heal. How awful must your life be to rape a child? What kind of hell must you be living in to hold down a screaming child and laugh while others brutally hurt her? And what kind of misery must it take to cause that pain to your own daughter, who so badly wants no more than your love?

I'm not excusing what they did. Far from it. But now I'm adding a bit of an evil cackle to the fantasy. See, I've always thought that they gave me a lifetime of pain and then they get to go on living free. It's something that has left me so bitter. But now I understand a different truth. They will never, ever have freedom. They will forever be bound to their misery because of what they did. They will stay in their brutal, torturous hell forever. But I have the gift of innocence, and I will one day fly free.

So maybe that's justice. It doesn't make up for what they did, and what happened will never be right. But realizing the hell they live in helps me to see that they are paying a price. I am fairly certain that there is no happiness in their lives. No calm. No peace. I lived like that for a long time, but my life is changing now.

Now the fantasy ends with me standing above them, pushing them down deeper into the pits of hell with my foot as they scream and shrink into nothingness. I am triumphant.

Sorry if this is really twisted and fucked up. It felt good to write.