Bad habits
Methamphetamine Silhouette
I was a dangerous sociopath when the Army released me. They had trained me to be a rabid dog and suddenly released my leash and thrust me onto society, fully responsible for my actions, with no deprogramming...and then I started doing meth, but this post is not about me or the things I did then, but rather a glimpse of that lifestyle and the insanity contained therein that seems normal at the time. I almost immediately upon release began a tumultuous relationship with a very beautiful woman, who actually introduced me to the many splendors (and horrors) of speed, but we were both very volatile and our fling was short lived, but we to this day are very important to each other and so she shall remain anonymous in this diatribe. We always stayed friends through the years. Close friends. I care more for her than any blood relative I have. She's part of my "family of choice" and those who understand that concept have been through some traumatic shit in their lives. If you had to find one, you're a survivor and I salute you.
By J.D. Bradley4 years ago in Confessions
One day.
She sat in the living room looking straight at the tv while he walked up and down the hall, letting her know just how much she was ruining his life. It didn't phase her anymore. "Look at me when I'm talking to you!" He yelled. "This is why no one you love stays around... they don't want to put up with your bullshit." She slowly moved her eyes to him, and as she did, she thought about what she was going to pack when he was finally done and left to make her feel like he was gone for good. As he spoke she mouthed every word he said... because it was like a forever spinning record player that was caught on a scratch.
By Suzann Pedersen4 years ago in Confessions
switching from self-sabotage to self-respect
Sometimes we commit mistakes that we think are irreversible to the point that we keep ourselves in the very cycle that we have been trying to break out of. My biggest mistake was that in a time where I knew I needed to be a serious adult I abandoned serious things that needed my attention more than me needing to feel like I could be a reckless child.
By Ash4 years ago in Confessions
Will I See You?
Most don't know they can start at the top. They don't have be on the bottom of the totem pole the last one thought about. Even the ones at the top are the last ones thought about. It's hard work stepping to the side and allowing others to shine more then you do. Even though your the one who set all of everything up but not for yourself but for others to thrive.
By Anthony Tenacious4 years ago in Confessions
Sometimes You Have to Ramp Up Your Violence
My friends and I went to Kordon’s dance club every weekend and generally had a blast. There was a guy that also went regularly who was just a buffoon. He’d invariably get drunk and do what can only be described as a chicken dance and because of that he earned the nickname, in our circle, “chicken man”.
By J.D. Bradley4 years ago in Confessions
Sleep Was My Only Friend
I hate to be this person but I guess I need to still let this one out. As a child I had no one consistently there for me and sleep was my only friend. Instead of actual objects, people, or make beliefs I had the concept of escaping reality, my reality as the only thing to protect me. I lived in a state of self hate from a young age and it has followed me through my adolescence into my early adulthood and it’s still scary. The concept of hating myself and having others hate me too has built up in this too much of an overwhelming happening. I never understood why. I never tried to find out why either at least not until now. Now that I’m at an age where it’s getting harder to hide away I must amplify my true purpose in life and undertake my fears and conquer them instead. Conquering my fears sounds somewhat easy and then completely difficult all at the same time.
By Keanna Barry 4 years ago in Confessions
You Can't Win If You Don't Play
I have a problem. Actually, I have a lot of problems, but let’s try to narrow the field a bit. I have a gambling problem. It’s minuscule, really. Tiny. Hardly worth mentioning, were it not for the fact that I break out in a cold sweat every time I pass a lotto machine, or the lottery counter at the grocery store, or the gas station, or the hundreds of other places where lottery tickets are apparently sold. I haven’t seen them at the library yet, but frankly, I’m surprised.
By Bev Potter4 years ago in Confessions
