you came to me when i was broken

Hey everyone, I'm back! Everything in my life has been going so well and I'm happy to announce that I am officially taken. Here is a poem I wrote for my incredible, sexy, smart, loving, amazing boyfriend, Krishani. I love him more than words can explain, but I'll give it a try:

you came to me when i was broken

climbing inside my heart 

sewing the pieces back together

you came to me when i was broken

entering my precious body 

making the pieces beautiful again

you came to me when i was broken

seeing into my damaged mind

changing every thought to artwork

you came to me when i was broken

clinging deeply into my soul

weaving us tightly together

you came to me when i was broken

fixing each part of my entity 

mending me until i was whole,

your body broken like your soul.

Love hurts

It rips the heart apart

As you willingly surrender

Your soul no longer yours.

Love bruises

Hit in hidden places

While you cover any marks

Your head tells you it’s okay.

Love scars

The slaps turn to beatings

And you lie broken on the floor

Your nose dripping blood.

Love destroys

Hope no longer present

So you shoot up to be numb

Your track marks show your pain.

Love kills

No sense of worth

Because you think you need him

Your body broken like your soul.

Love ends

Abuse not worth a life

So you escape his hell

Your heart still aches.

Love heals

Mending all wounds

Even if you never forget

Your scars will still slowly fade.

an over-indulgence of anything, even something as pure as water, can intoxicate.

So it is clear to see that I am one who lives for over-indulgence. I've done it with food, drugs, booze, sleep, drama, fun, danger, etc. I've even over-indulged in love. And the more I grow, the more I see that love was the most dangerous intoxicant of them all. Even dope isn't as dangerous as love was to me.

Most would say that my last relationship was abusive. And in many ways, it probably was. So why is it that I can't see that? Why do I still think that he's the one that got away? The one that I was meant to be with had I not blown it and chosen drugs over him? I don't know if I'll ever fully understand.

When I got sober, we hadn't spoken in months. Just before I went into rehab, I sent him a message letting him know I was safe, clean and getting help. I called him the night before. He was with a girl. it made me absolutely furious. I wanted to go and slit her throat. I know, that sounds just plain horrid, scary, and messed up of me. But I'm only being honest, that was my first thought. Obviously I would never do it. After he hung up because of her protesting, I broke down into uncontrollable tears. Thinking, 'I couldn't go to rehab now! I need to be home so that I can convince him to come back to me. I can't be away, what if he messages me and wants me back and I'm not there to get it?' I wished I hadn't called. I knew it would hurt me, but I didn't care. I wanted the pain over nothing. I wanted to drown in that love induced pain and hurt.

I ended up going to treatment and sort of put it in the back of my mind. I knew that if I thought about the truth, it would rip me wide open and I couldn't handle that. I talked about every other trauma in my life except that. When my counselor asked me if there's anything unresolved with my ex, I lied and said no. Saying no and having her believe me was the best acting performance of my life. Just being asked about him brought me to the verge of tears and a massive breakdown. How I managed a smile and a 'no' with my throat closing, choking on a sob is beyond me. I guess years of fake smiles and manipulation paid off. Or ripped me off, if you think about it.

It was something I needed to deal with and didn't. So after rehab, I just kept him in the back of my mind, never letting him come to the front. Once and a while thoughts would slip in and I'd lose it. I couldn't listen to love songs, break up songs, or any songs we both liked. I'd go insane. Anywhere I went reminded me of him. Even some shows were off limits. It was like if I didn't think about it, the pain and reality wouldn't be there. I even banned myself from facebook. I was scared to have messages from him. Or worse, none at all.

So one day, something came over me. I felt this crazy urge to read my facebook, to get it over with. The not knowing and keeping it locked away would cause knots in my stomach almost everyday. I needed to check. Needless to say, there were messages. But not what I thought. They were sad messages, messages of love, and pain and hurt. He still loved me. He doesn't love her. I replied, months after they had been sent and told him what had happened with me, how I was, and how I felt. I told him that I wanted to keep our promise. We always swore that we would always be in each other's lives regardless of anything that happened.

I decided that I couldn't lose him again. It would kill me. Months of ignoring it had somehow let me sort of come to terms with another girl being there. Don't get me wrong, I still hate her and have awful pangs of jealousy here and there, but I was somewhat okay with that fact. I knew I'd rather have him as a friend than not to have him at all. So again, I chose to indulge in that love induced pain.
It's like I can't stand not having things, especially in excess. It was more scary to me to just let him go and learn to be okay alone that to have him but not be able to be his girl again. I'd rather be hurt in unimaginable ways to keep him, than to feel nothing and let it go.

And let me tell you, it hurts. It hurts almost daily, but I can't stop. I can't stop smothering myself in love, hate, pain, and tears. I will indulge in it as long as I can. Bad for me or not. I mean, nothing bad for me has never stopped me before. If anything, those 'bad things' encouraged me. They only made it more intoxicating. Like the thrill of doing something illegal and getting away with it.

So even though he caused pain and still does so, I will not let him go. I need him in my life. I don't care how other people viewed our relationship. I loved him in ways most people can't imagine. And he loved me. We fought hard, but we loved harder. That's just who we were. And I wouldn't change it for the world.

But why do I do these things? Why can't I just be okay with normal amounts? Will I always be doomed to be a gluttonous person who can't do anything in moderation? I suppose not, because I seem to only be able to function in extremes. I can do things in all or nothing ways. Never anything in between. With drugs it was do it all or don't do any. Same with love, booze, sleep, whatever. I guess I just think in very black and white terms. I don't know if I'll ever learn to enjoy the grey areas of life.

Much love, xx.

 The two of us on vacation. He'd kill me if he knew I shared this!

He may be bad for me, but I don't know if I could say no. I should say no. I should run the other way. But with my track record of over-indulgence, no isn't often a word I use.

This is sort of true, but at the same time, being his everything and doing anything for him made me feel bright and shiny. And I was his everything too. So it wasn't one sided.

I don't know if this one is true, but I hope it is. Either with someone else, or him. As long as it's true.

we found each other sinking, both lost without aspiration; no promise of tomorrow.

"Nicole's Ocean"

Dedicated to my Nicole, the girl who saved me from sinking and taught me how to swim. I hope this poem is half as beautiful as you are. You're my guardian angel of the sea. Enjoy <3 

I found her floating
Floating in the deep sea,
The deep sea of lost souls
The deep sea I'd been drifting along endlessly.

Some days I was sinking,
Drowning to the depths of pain
She grasped my soul
Pulled me back up
Returned air to my lungs, my heart
Returned me to the surface of hope.

We spent our time drifting
Floating together in perfect harmony
Letting the lull of the waves
Bring us back home.

Two moons later, the sky roared with thunder
Waves rippled, tide changing course
I braced for rough sea with fear
To be dragged down to despair once more
She looked at me in silence.

The current seized her body
Under-toe enraptured her life
I knew where she was headed, been there before
I watched as she surrendered,
Relinquishing her soul to the sea.

Taken to join the others
Those who had been lost
To a place so dark, so ugly
A place with only hopelessness
Despair feeding on her existence.

I knew where she was going
But I lingered, suddenly cold
Frozen with horror, I struggled
My life was flashing with the lightening
Bolting me to reality
I had no life without her.

I shoved away my panic
Dove beneath the water, submerged myself in darkness
Swimming blind, I'd lost my way
When a light appeared
Guiding me to her
I fought until exhaustion, seeking, searching

Finally I came across my illuminated destination
The glowing of her essence
I tugged at her spirit,
So stunning, beyond belief
I willed our way to freedom
Breaking through the oceans barrier
With our breath, came a new perception.
Intuition emerging with us.

I thought that I had found her
Floating in the shadows
A gift brought to me
My guardian angel of the sea
But now I knew, we found each other
Fate had found us too

We found each other sinking
Both lost without aspiration
No promise of tomorrow
But as we came together,
Our faith had been restored
We clung to one another, bodies close
Each other's life-vest.

So with her love
With her light
We started swimming
Swimming not as two, but one
Starting on our journey
Lost no more, we headed home.

nobody can go back and make a brand new start. however, anyone can start now to make a brand new ending.

There's such a weird mix of feelings that goes on within me every single day. 

I can start depressed, wanting to die, to feeling so elated that nothing can bring me down. Or I can feel both of those at the exact same time. 

I used to use so that I couldn't feel anything. So the hardest part about sobriety is learning to feel and cope with the new whirlwind of emotions inside my head. It's easier said than done. Imagine feeling sad, angry, relieved, hopeful, yet hopeless, frustrated, excited, and humored at the same time. Seems impossible, right? Well trust me, it's not. It is, however, extremely hard to deal with for the normal person. But for an addict in recovery, it's even worse. When you're so used to feeling nothing, feeling even one emotion is rough. So going through the full spectrum in a minute on any given day, it's not fun or easy. But it is life. And it's something I'm learning to deal with. Sort of. Don't get me wrong I still lash out, burst into tears, react too quickly, or laugh inappropriately, but at least I'm not running away and getting high every time. See? I'm making progress.

Anyway, I figured that since so many of these posts are about the negative emotions, I'd make this one just for all the positive I'm feeling.

You know that feeling when you meet someone new and just hearing from them makes your heart rush? Where all you want is to lay with them while they make you forget all your pain and past? That emotion right before love, where everything is new, fun, and gives you happy tingles. Well, I'm the luckiest girl to be experiencing this again, and being sober enough to be able to experience it. So I'm grateful for my sobriety and for Nicole for showing me what it's like to feel all warm and fuzzy inside again. 

And then there's relief, when you know that the people you care about are okay. 

And excited emotions when you know you're on the verge of a perfect poem, or story, or whatever. That nature rush you get as you start to share at a meeting, or introduce yourself in group. 

And how about the peaceful, calm feeling you get when you lay down at night knowing you don't have to worry about where you'll get money or where you'll get dope the next day. Knowing you won't be sick and that when you wake, everything will be okay. It's that confidence you have in knowing that you will rise with the sun and the day is yours to do anything with.

Of course, there's love, and compassion too. I find these in my family and pets. I don't think I'd be here with out the help and love and support from my mom. And I wouldn't be happy without the unconditional love from Charlie.

And lastly (for now), there's passion. That drive and need to complete something that gets your blood flowing and creativity soaring. That high you get from doing the thing you were made for and knowing that it is your calling. That sense of pride you get reading the final copy, or viewing the final piece of artwork, or getting that dressage move down pact. The feeling of just knowing, from the deepest part of your soul, that you're right where you're supposed to be.

So yes, I'll have bad feelings and bad days. Maybe more than I'd like. But when things get rough, I know that I at least have these amazing emotions. And more importantly, I have the special people in my life that can help me feel and see all these great things I have in my life. 

Ouu, there's another one. Gratitude. The ability to see the abundance of good things, good people, and good feelings I have every day. And the ability to give thanks for it every night.

So tonight, life is good. And I'm glad for that.

she can never go back and make some of the details pretty, all she can do is make the whole beautiful.

So in case you haven't heard, I've got some issues. I've got scars, scabs, bullet holes, stab wounds, puncture marks, track marks, a broken smile and a gaping black hole of pain. So no, I'm not perfect. Never was, never will be. But you know what? I don't give a flying high fuck.

So you want to know why? Probably not, but I'll tell you anyway.

 I realized, that me, and only me, should be at the top. I may still be climbing my way up from the underground, but don't you worry or doubt me. Cause I'll fucking make it up there. I'll be so high up there that every bitch, ex, loser, and scumbag that ever crossed me will be scared. And those who wrote me off, well, they'll be begging to be my friend. Good, let them beg. But they'll be begging for a lifetime because to me, loyalty, honestly, dedication and real love is key for me. If you didn't have it when I was at my lowest, you won't have it when I'm at the top. Sure, they'll pretend, but it's too late. I've already seen their true, ugly colours. And those who did have my back? The ones that were there for me when I was completely broken, ugly, damaged. Well I know they'll still be in my life, because they deserve to be.

Now, before you think I'm ranting and raving for no reason other than the fact that I'm into myself (haaa, yeah right, have you met anyone with bulimia who loves themselves?), let me tell you how I came to the above realization:

So you all know my ex. The love of my life, turned friend. If a friend is what you want to call it. He has a new "girlfriend" named Tiffany. Cheesy, skank-ass name. So after months of being terrified to check all social media, I finally grew the balls to check. I was so worried that I'd have a mean message from him, or worse, no messages at all. But there were some. They told me that he still loved me, that he hadn't loved anyone else since, and that he wasn't single, but that things were complicated. Anyway, long story short, we decided we'd talk, maybe be friends. Fast forward a bit, bitchany finds out that we're talking and decides to send me a message, demanding I no longer contact him. I didn't reply, why would I give her the satisfaction? But upon reviewing her message, I decided, "Wow, he could have done sooo much better." And I mean, no offence to this girl, it's not her fault she looks like a horse and acts like she's six. Well, sort of. The least he could have done was show some respect and throw a dime piece in my face. Then I'd understand. Then it got me thinking, why was I so upset? She's a downgrade, and he left me when I needed him most. I should only care about the people who have been there from the start, from the bottom, up. 

So I may be being a little nasty, and I may seem arrogant. But I see it differently. I see that they've been nailing it in my head at rehab, at every meeting, at every group that I am worth it, and maybe for the first time, I finally believe it. I finally realize that I am worth every bit of recovery, respect, love, understanding, compassion, etc. And after all the hard work I've accomplished getting and staying sober, I deserve to have a day  and a blog post where I rant in about how awesome I am.

Fuck, I deserve more than just a day. But I guess for tomorrow, I'll try to tone it down a bit. Maybe.

And even though I can't go back in time and fix everything and make it all pretty, I can move forward, learn to love myself and know that my whole is still beautiful. Imperfections and all.

it's not the size of the dog in the fight, it's the size of the fight in the dog.

*I am in no way endorsing dog fights with this title, they're horrible. Just a good quote.

 A week ago, since I posted last. Things just got increasingly worse. Before I get into that, I think there's a background story that needs to be interluded here:
 Me and my boyfriend have been together and madly in love for two years. We live together, we're always together and we're happy. But we fight a lot. We 'break-up' a lot and then everything is fine by the net day. We make up and are back to normal. We love hard, and fight hard. But this time I really screwed up. He just left me and that was that. I don't think we can bounce back from this. Maybe this is the time he never comes back. He really hurt me and broke my heart.  So this is where my week of drug binge and drinking drinking started. That's also the week I cut myself. And the week my Cymbalta or situation made me want to die.

Continuing on, my last post, I was crashing. I slept forever, and woke up feeling horrible. Depressed. Hopeless. Anxious. Shaking. Ryan still didn't want me, my other friend has a new girlfriend, and my best friend doesn't know I'm a drug addict wreck. I have nobody. So I rush to the LCBO, buy this HUGE bottle of vodka, get some more sleeping pills, and whatever else I can get my hands on. And so, my drug and alcohol binge continues, my non eating continues. And despite how heartbroken and sad I am, when I'm fucked up, I don't care. My drugs and whatnot is all I need.

Ryan ended up messaging me, and we talked for a long time. We decided we were going to work on things. Take it slow, do the whole best friend thing until everything's okay. Yet for some reason, as completely happy I am that we have the chance to fix something that should have never been broke, I couldn't stop myself from thinking what about the things that are already broken and always have been broken. Like me, I'm broken, always have been. And my idea of fixing myself, is a fix...of drugs, purging, starving, whatever. So I keep breaking myself more. Will I ever be fixed? Do I even deserve to be fixed? I'm afraid he's going to come back expecting the girl he loved, the one he met, the one who was sober before all this. And what if we try, and he changes his mind, and I have to go through all this heartbreak again. I cannot handle that.

So I spent my nights talking till him until he went to bed, then I'd begin my nighttime drug routine. I kept getting worse, and it wasn't until I drank and drugged myself do death that I realized I'm becoming an alcoholic too. My mom found me, puking my guts up, incoherent, eyes rolling back in my head. When I did finally wake up, I was still drunk. I couldn't remember anything, my whole night was a black hole. I decided I couldn't drink anymore. My mom was furious, pointing out what I never even knew, you aren't supposed to drink while on antidepressants...I'm on two. I felt like shit for a few days recovering from that night.

Things with Ryan are getting much better, I think we're going to be okay. We've been hanging out, getting intimate and I'm so glad. He also helped me realize I've been misjudging weed the whole time. I personally think it's therapeutic. It gets rid of my anxiety, I can relax, it helps me sleep, and I don't even need all the other drugs. I still will have all the other drugs for now, I'm not ready to give them up, but maybe it'll help me slowly get off them. It's a lot better than drinking, sleeping pills, xanax, percs, coke, you name it that I'd do.

I'm not giving up. It seems like I've relapsed again and want to stay an addict. I don't I just need to get my life a bit more in order, build up the strength deep down in me. It's me against a monster, I need to build the fight in me before I can fight something that size. But I will do it. I've gotten clean before on a lot worse, I can do it again. Just give me time.

an optimist stays up until midnight to see the new year in, a pessimist stays up to make sure the old year leaves.

So which one am I? (I know it's only 4:35am on New Years Eve, but I'm starting this year's celebration alittle earlier. Or I suppose, due to my new found habit, continuing the celebration from the night before).

I guess this year I'm a bit of both, as much as I'd like to be only an optimist, I'm also realistic (at least in some ways) and understand that I've never been much of a positive person. Plan for the worst, hope for the best.

See, this year, of all years has been a bit unusual for me. And mostly in a horrific way. Not only has Jenna taken over my life significantly this year, I've also lost alot of people that mean the world to me.

It all started fairly early in the year. My grandma, who was elderly became sick. The next thing I knew she was in the hospital, and a day later, she was gone. Over the last few years, as my disorder took over my body, I haven't been that close with my Grandma. This was the first lesson I got in making sure you always save time for those you love, you never know when you're going to lose them.

Next, and thankfully (or not, depending on how you see things) not as sudden, was my best friend, my brother, and my amazing dog Rogan. As a vegetarian, and an animal lover, I did see my furry friend, of eight years, as one of the closest people to me. I loved him so much. He was with my through thick and thin (literally and figurativey) and unlike everyone else around me, he loved me unconitionally and unjudgementally. He hit me harder than my grandma did. And unfortunately, his death was overshadowed, and didn't get the attention and greving it deserved.

But nothing, and I mean nothing hit as hard as the day I lost my dad. He was only 55 years old. With so many years ahead of him. My heart sank getting a text from my mom, telling me to come home immediately. I knew somehting was wrong, but she wouldn't tell me. I got a ride from my boyfriend, Ryan. There were five cop cars outside my house. No ambulance. I couldn't possibly imagine what could be going on. Was someone in trouble with the law? Was I?

I never in a million years guessed that my aunt would say, "Jordyn, your dad's dead." I could see sick, a heart attack or stroke (he'd had both in the past). But nothing prepared me for "dead." He was the most important person in my life. One of the only men I'll ever love, along with my brothers, and hopefully one day when (if) I'm married, husband.

The last few months since October 26th have been a blur. Filled with funerals, calls from collection angencies about my dad (news to everyone), crying, anger, eating, puking, drinking myself sick, and now, my newest way to forget. I can't see myself healing from this anytime soon. I don't know if I ever will.

And see, through all this I've really only lost myself. Through all this pain, self induced or death induced, I've moved towards ways to make me forget, make me not feel the pain I feel. I don't want to hurt. I've always hurt enough without everything else I've been through this year. I thought I couldn't recognize the person I saw in my reflection, but I was wrong. Now I see that I've just been seeing me disapear, as Jenna comes into view. But now, when I look at myself, I definitely don't know who's staring back at me. And this new girl, she scares me to death. I thought Jenna was scary, but this girl takes it to a whole new level.

And so I wonder, will I ever get Jenna back? Will I ever get me back? ANd this is why I'm both a pessimist and an optimist this year. I will stay awake all night, to see this horrible year leave me, and to welcome the new year in, hoping it will be better for me. For everyone. Hoping I'll finallly get everything my life put back in place.

So happy new year everyone. Enjoy your last night of 2011, and your first day of 2012.

Let's just fucking hope it isn't the end of the world like everyone says. Wouldn't that just blow.