It's rare that I delete an entry on this site. I like my steak medium-well, not rare.
I had to take those words away. Not because they weren't true - I stand by every single thing I wrote. But the bitter aftertaste it left in my mouth tasted like anger, rage and ... revenge. It's not who I want to be. It's not fair that I use this platform to get back at the people who have hurt and betrayed me. So, this is The Post Formerly Known As The Post Called Writing Like A Motherfucker. I will always write like a motherfucker. But hopefully with more grace, class and humility than I wrote yesterday.
It felt GOOD to write what I wrote yesterday. It feels fucking powerful when you're so angry you don't give a flying fuck. But fucks don't fly and fury fades. I don't take any of it back. I just took it down. It served no real purpose. (But DAMN that was a well-written post.)
Entering recovery all those years ago taught me so many things, one of the biggest was appropriateness. That post was not appropriate. I'm not sorry I wrote it. I'm just re-writing it. It's not as strong or tough or powerful but I don't want the world to make me hard. Hate is heavy and I need to let it go so I can get on with my life. We get to re-write our story, every single day. Some stories are uglier than others. Some stories are better left to ourselves. Or at least our close friends who understand but will ring you up and say "Dude. Really?"
I got hurt by people. I hurt people. I fucked up, I owned my shit and I will continue to do so. I'm not a trainwreck, I'm not an inspiration, I'm not a lighthouse. I'm just a person like all the other people, stumbling and fumbling my way through. As best as I can and as worst as I can. I'm going to be here for a long time but I'm exhausted, overwhelmed, hurting. I gotta focus on what will see me through, not tear me down.
Thank you for your comments and emails. Grace and dignity - so help me, God.
If I'm not here that often it just means I'm doing other stuff - writing and working on putting my life and self back together in ways it never has before. It's exciting. My friend Mary told me tonight I could choose joy and I'm all, really? I thought joy just happened to us. Mary says we choose it. I choose to believe her. Stay safe. I'm doing well - real well. Don't give up. Don't you fucking dare. I haven't and I won't. I'm only at the beginning. Come with.
Imagine if everything is going to be ok after all. That'd be cool. Way cool.
Namaste, cocksuckers.
I had to take those words away. Not because they weren't true - I stand by every single thing I wrote. But the bitter aftertaste it left in my mouth tasted like anger, rage and ... revenge. It's not who I want to be. It's not fair that I use this platform to get back at the people who have hurt and betrayed me. So, this is The Post Formerly Known As The Post Called Writing Like A Motherfucker. I will always write like a motherfucker. But hopefully with more grace, class and humility than I wrote yesterday.
It felt GOOD to write what I wrote yesterday. It feels fucking powerful when you're so angry you don't give a flying fuck. But fucks don't fly and fury fades. I don't take any of it back. I just took it down. It served no real purpose. (But DAMN that was a well-written post.)
Entering recovery all those years ago taught me so many things, one of the biggest was appropriateness. That post was not appropriate. I'm not sorry I wrote it. I'm just re-writing it. It's not as strong or tough or powerful but I don't want the world to make me hard. Hate is heavy and I need to let it go so I can get on with my life. We get to re-write our story, every single day. Some stories are uglier than others. Some stories are better left to ourselves. Or at least our close friends who understand but will ring you up and say "Dude. Really?"
I got hurt by people. I hurt people. I fucked up, I owned my shit and I will continue to do so. I'm not a trainwreck, I'm not an inspiration, I'm not a lighthouse. I'm just a person like all the other people, stumbling and fumbling my way through. As best as I can and as worst as I can. I'm going to be here for a long time but I'm exhausted, overwhelmed, hurting. I gotta focus on what will see me through, not tear me down.
Thank you for your comments and emails. Grace and dignity - so help me, God.
If I'm not here that often it just means I'm doing other stuff - writing and working on putting my life and self back together in ways it never has before. It's exciting. My friend Mary told me tonight I could choose joy and I'm all, really? I thought joy just happened to us. Mary says we choose it. I choose to believe her. Stay safe. I'm doing well - real well. Don't give up. Don't you fucking dare. I haven't and I won't. I'm only at the beginning. Come with.
Imagine if everything is going to be ok after all. That'd be cool. Way cool.
Namaste, cocksuckers.
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Write to be understood, speak to be heard. - Lawrence Powell