j4mdoll

[j4mdoll]

studio ghibli: my neighbor totoro (1988) — title sequence uhh a bit obsessed w my neighbor totoro right now lol

[j4mdoll]

I hate taking up space right now.

I saw a girl who was obviously very sick.

And I felt envy towards her.

Because she took up less space than I do.

#eating disorder

[j4mdoll]

I want attention. I want space.

I want to want. I want to hate.

I want to be understood. I want to understand.

I want to be a strong woman. I want to be treated like a man.

I want respect. I want dessert. I want entertainment. I want to flirt.

I want to like people. I want to improve. I want to worship. I want to be crude.

I want to be healthy. I want to grow wise. I want be honest. I want to be the right size.

I want to have peace. I want serenity. I want to accept. I want people to like me.

I want to be grateful. I want to help. I want to let go. I want to be rid of self.

#writers of the future #writers aesthetic #writers of tumblr #female writers #writers and poets #tumblr writing society #writers cafe #poetry #poetscommunity #recovery #thoughts #writing

[j4mdoll]

The pattern in the night sky above the low tide reminded me of tiger stripes. It’s been an emotional day.

But just like I have a name, I, too, have emotions.

While I am managing them,

I will not apologize for having them.

Roar.

#emotions #mississippi #gulf coast #female writers #writerscafe #writers aesthetic #photography #writers of the future #writers of tumblr #words of mine #quotes #thoughts

[j4mdoll]

The seagulls at the beach begging for chips

reminded me of the people at Mardi Gras yelling,

“throw me something!”

#new orleans #mardi gras #thoughts #quotes #writerscafe #writersociety #female writers #funny #funny thoughts #louisiana #mississippi

[j4mdoll]

The maskless martyrs.

Willing to die and kill for the illusion of freedom.

The self-righteous masked faces.

Pointing fingers.

Hiding behind keyboards.

Disgusted with even their own family and close friends.

You all are exhausting.

#covid2019 #daily poem #poetry #writing #writeblogging #writersociety #writerscafe #maskup #my body my choice #writers and poets

[j4mdoll]

Part 2

It was a beginning. Beginnings needed celebrating! I’m not sure why or exactly when I started celebrating with cheap bottles of aristocrat vodka alone, but I did. I loved having a secret. I could be in my own little world and no one had to know. My own little warm place with no pain. Until the hangover. But I quickly learned that a hangover could be fixed really easily with more drink. I was actually terrified of the hangover and would do anything to avoid it, even if it meant sipping shots all day long and throughout the night when I tried to sleep.

Back to the bird nest I went. Day after day I watched the mother sitting in the nest. I watched the eggs closely when she was away. I stayed on the phone with a long distance friend most of the day and night. I’m not sure if he knew I was drinking all the time or if he even cared, really. I was entertaining to him and it was nice to have any kind of attention from anyone at all, even if it it was only through telephone calls.

At my grandmother’s house I encountered many fond memories of my childhood. My grandfather built a barn behind her house with a loft in it for my cousins and I to play in. If you sat up there when the sun was rising or setting it was really beautiful. I don’t have any brothers or sisters, so memories with all my cousins were ones I kept close to my heart. It was nice to revisit all the places we played and explored when we were little. Deep inside my guts wrenched to think that I had actually grown up. How did that happen? When did I get to be an adult? Why didn’t I do adult things like other people my age? I think I was about 24 at the time. I had graduated with a degree in education and was terrified to actually get a job.

So I drank and procrastinated job searching and I found that I cried a lot. Sometimes I drank to make myself cry. I had become so solemn and callous that I couldn’t stand myself. Drinking helped me to cry it out. When I was around people, I could turn on the bubbly, fun-loving, slightly sarcastic persona, but most times it was so exhausting that I avoided people altogether unless I had a few shots in my system. That, or, another type of chemical. I liked to control how I felt all the time. And pills I had been prescribed and alcohol and other substances I could get my hands on were so helpful with controlling my bitter, nagging, bursts of unpleasant feelings.

I don’t know how I remember what happened to the nest so clearly because I’m quite certain I had been drunk for a few days when it happened. I went to check on the eggs. When I walked in the bedroom the sun was still sparkling through the window. I pulled the curtains back. To my utter horror, a disgusting black and white spotted snake was slithering into the nest and coiling up around it. My stomach still drops when I picture it. My hope was in that nest. My sign of a new beginning was about to be devoured by a revolting looking thief. The poor mother bird would never get to feed her babies. I wouldn’t get to watch them hatch. I felt raped all over again. I felt something worse than a hangover, I felt emotion. Sick, black, throat slitting pain. Why Is this always happening to me? Why is everything beautiful in my life sucked out and destroyed?

I had run away from abuse and I was coping the only way I knew how. That bird nest was a sign from God. The nest symbolized my hope. My childhood innocence was in that nest. My happiness and my future. But I was a dead person inside. I went to my bottle and there was plenty. But this time the thought of drinking didn’t appeal. I was lonely and my heart was aching. I wanted to kill that snake but I was terrified of it. Rage filled my heart. The creature moved and crouched so eerily. What looked like all 3 feet of him was dangling there swallowing the little bit of comfort I had found. I went into the living room. No one was in the house. I screamed as loud as I could. My knees hit the ground and I beat against the floor.I screamed and screamed and cried in horror. I know things like this take place in nature, and it was the alcohol turning on me, burning me up inside, along with all the heart breaking trauma I had suffered that poured into my spirit and drained my soul that day. I had no hope. I was dying. And I welcomed death.

After I settled down I contemplated what was happening to me. The alcohol was a symbol too. It was doing to me what the snake was doing in that nest. It was consuming me. Strangling me. Sucking the life out of me. Leaving me disoriented and alone. And I couldn’t go an hour without it. That was a beginning for sure. Of what, I didn’t know yet.

#heartbreak #horror #writing #blog post #recovery #addiction #suffering #alcohol #mental health #mental illness #alcoholics anonymous #awareness #writer #free write

[j4mdoll]

Part 1

I moved in with my grandmother at a point in my life where all seemed hopeless. Running away from everything I feared about growing up, I found sanctuary in one of the two bedrooms my dad and his 6 brothers and sisters all shared growing up. I was an alcoholic. I didn’t even know it yet. The drink was slowly creeping up my shoulders and around my neck. Strangling the life out of me while I wore it proudly like a piece of jewelry.

As I was unpacking my things, sipping a little here and there to escape the tormenting shame that massaged my shoulders with self-loathing and suicidal thoughts, I saw some sunshine sparkling through the dusty old curtains. I opened them. To my surprise there was a birds nest in the bush right outside the window. It was nestled up so close to the glass snd I could see inside. There were four beautiful little blue eggs inside. For the first time in weeks, my heart filled with inspiration and hope. I had precious childhood memories of peeking into my mother’s ferns and finding nests of tiny little eggs. I would check on them daily with my father. He would pick me up in his big strong arms and we would look in the nests to see if the eggs had hatched. When they did, it was so adorable to watch the babies stick their wriggling little necks up all at once and open their tiny little beaks so wide. They seemed to be starving! I knew this was a sign from God. Right here in the window I could sit and watch this beautiful little bird family up close. I knew this was God telling me that he loved me and that He was with me. He provided this perfect little nest just for me to watch in hope and in awe as the little baby birds hatched and started their new lives. This was a beginning. There was hope. I would be ok. I would figure this out all on my own with no help from anyone.

To be continued.

#mississippi #alcohol #hope #mental illness #mental health #recovery #baby bird #godsplan #addiction #disease #writing

[j4mdoll]

#recovery #difficult times #journey #mental health #healing #struggle #life

[j4mdoll]

Stages of denial.

#recovery #denial #psychology #bop it #mental health #griefrecovery #faceit #funny photos

[j4mdoll]

Sending you a whole latte love.❤⁣ What's your favorite type of coffee? ☕⁣