traceyh415

Losing control of myself. As a survivor of sexual abuse, I have a rigid system in place for myself mentally and physically. I like to know where I am going at all times. I like the details, I like to know my escape routes. I like to know everything that might happen so I can work out contingencies in my mind. It is nearly impossible for me to relax unless I feel like I have gone through a complete mental list of the details. In the past month, for whatever reason, my brain decided to short circuit. The mental load of having to be in control of everything 24/7 was just too damn much. The end result of this was a series of panic attacks. The perceived threat in daily situations is everything and anything. I have come to the fork in the road where I am just too afraid of daily living to the point my mind said ZAP! This is not easy for me to both admit and to deal with. It is a lot to manage. The rigid system can only exist holding things together for so long before it starts to cra...

I was laying in my bunk bed cuddling one of my fat rolls last week when it dawned on me that it has been over two decades since the last time I was starving. I have gotten used to this sturdier frame. This is quite a contrast from the years when I was so thin I had to wear multiple pairs of pants just to get up to any type of a normal frame. There was an expression I heard in rehab "I was so sucked up, my two back pockets were touching." This was a painfully accurate representation. It's a humbling thing to have to decide between spending a dollar on a little debbie snack cake and paying full price for a small bag of shitty dope. Yet, I'd rather eat food I'd find on the top of a trashcan then part with my hard hustled money.  I am going to be fifty this year. I have outlived my shelf life many times over. I used up many of my nine lives, squandered a few. I enjoyed a few others. I will never forget the three weeks I spent tripping my ass off in Colorado at the ...