I have been throwing grenades into my life.
I want out. Not as in suicide out but just out. Out of responsibility. Out of confinement. Out of everything. I've been impulsive. I've been told I am not thinking clearly. I've been told my brain had a problem before this. I've been told I will never heal. I've been silenced. I've been dismissed. I've been ignored. I've been gaslit. I've been running to the wrong people for comfort. I've been disappointed. I've been unsafe. I've been in lack of acceptance. I've been bitter. Angry. I've been in terror. Scared. Alone. I've given to others too much. I've received too little then too much or the wrong thing. I've been out of gratitude. I've been in the moment. In the future and the past. I've been devoid of boundaries. I've been bad. I've been human. I've been rageful. My dear friend laughed at the recent events in my life ( I will spare the details for now) and said, "You've gotten off the path". I've been supported. I've been listened to. I've been loved. I've been held. I've been fucked with. I've been damaged. I've been triggered. I've been hopeful and hopeless about this grueling endless process.
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AuthorSomeone who found themselves accidentally dependent and suffered an iatrogenic injury from medications that were prescribed. Sharing experience, strength and hope with others. This is written as a person on this winding path and NOT as a professional. Please contact a licensed professional for any medical/psychological care or advice. This is NOT a substitute for medical or psychological care. What is written here reflects my own personal experience ONLY. Archives
November 2018
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