Snapshots from the Past
I have put my book away for a few days—sometimes, it is good to get a little distance but as I wrote in my last post, I am holding off on writing about my first memory of being sexually abused and the year I spent on the streets the year before I went into treatment. I have taken a few peeks into those dark places but will not write about them until next week, when I am reunited with Les.
So, during the past few days, I have been going through some old poem, lyrics, artwork and letters that I wrote back in the 1980's. As I wrote in a previous post, ‘The Woman in the Satchel,’ my mother had saved all these things for me and gave them to me a few years ago and so I find myself going through them and figuring out how to use them in the book. I have been fascinated by them—I feel they offer a unique and firsthand glimpse into the woman I was during my years as an addict. It is as though I am reading the words of someone I know very well but who is not me—I feel that removed from this person I used to be. From time to time, I will share some of these on my blog. Here is one I came across today.
i sit in front of my
mirror
tears roll down in fascinating
rivulets and
somehow inside
i feel an overwhelming sadness . . .
not for me understand
but for the little girl in the
picture
on my mother’s dresser
i watch as streams of emotion
mix themselves with
max factor
and tender feelings of how very much
i wanted to do
for that child with innocent eyes
and as I look at the fang marks
on my arms i know
i’ve failed
suddenly i’m aware of
my body shaking and all the
pain i can no longer
bottle eruptsi lay my tired head in
comforting hands
and give in
to a storm of
grief.
I don't remember writing all of what was in the satchel but I do remember the poem, above. I had come home late at night after spending a weekend shooting speedballs (cocaine and heroin mixed together). My arms ached—they were so pierced, battered and bruised by the needles of the weekend spent. I was coming down from my high—and as usual, when I came off a high, I was deeply depressed. Drugs were only a temporary mask for the pain I was in—when the drugs wore off, the pain remained and was usually worse. As I go through the letters, poems, and lyrics in this satchel, I am considering how I might use them in the book. I have a chapter in the book called “Falling Down” which centers on my initial descent into drug abuse as I remember it. I believe I will use this poem to open that chapter because it is a true glimpse into the state I was in during that time.
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Categories: Healing the Past,Addiction and Recovery,Writing the Memoir
I just wanted you to know that I wrote about you on my blog and linked to you. I hope you don't mind. I have about 100 regular readers and know that some of them will be very interested to learn about you.
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Jen,
Thanks for stopping by--and no, I don't mind at all. In fact, I appreciate it very much. I just dropped by your blog (which I love, by the way) and left you a comment there as well. I really love your blog a lot and will definitely be directing people to it.
Take care,
Melinda
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WOW!
Not often we sniff out such an inspirational and honest blog! Hi from Dubai, US, Canada, Oz, UK, India & Thailand from all the GO! Smell the flowers founders....
You're clearly inspiring others, have the courage to share your life to date and we love it.....
Thanks! Lets keep in touch,
All at,
GO! Smell the flowers
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Thank you so much for your kind words--and thank you also for the review of my blog on Blog Catalogue. Let's definitely keep in touch--and I look forward to checking out your blog now as well.
Take care,
Melinda
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What a great poem. I really like how you might use it.
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Thanks! There are some old letters that I feel are going to be quite powerful in opening some of the chapters as well. I also have some lyrics to a song I wrote, which I feel might be a good opening for the entire book. I never realized how true it was at the time but the lyrics state, "I have seen that I will die from a fire that I will build." Luckily (so luckily), those lyrics never became a reality--although I did come very close.
Take care,
Melinda
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I am convinced that we can live many, many lives within the context of one life. You are proof that this is so.
I was led here from JenX's blog. I am her CA blogger. I am very glad that she found you and that you are sharing your story. We can all learn from each other's experiences.
Hugs,
Debbie
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Debbie,
I feel so much gratitude for JenX and her blog--I am glad she brought us together--I will definitely be checking out your blog--I live in CA half the time (in San Francisco).
I definitely agree that we can live many lives in the context of just one. My life has been as varied as any life can be-such an important lesson is for each of us to learn that we are in control of what we ultimately become. There is so much to learn from everyone whose paths we cross--I so agree that we can (and should) learn from each other's experiences.
Thank you for dropping by, Debbie--I look forward to checking out your blog as well.
Hugs back,
Melinda
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Melinda,
Thanks so much for popping over to my blog and for leaving me such a lovely message! I look forward to reading more of your blog and getting to know more about you. I agree that we can learn so much from one another. I also believe that we pass through other people's lives for a reason, so I am very glad that our lives have connected through Jen's site. She is such a wonderful, interesting person who is a very good writer. Someday, I will write more about how I was led to Jen's site by my dear brother who passed away suddenly, last February. I am still trying to put the pieces back together after that tragic loss. Jen helped me to remember that my brother is still with me.
Please take good care of yourself. You are so right when you say that we are in control of what we ultimately become. Wise words!
Hugs,
Debbie
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Debbie,
I am so sorry to hear of the loss of your brother--my deep condolences to you and your family. I am very glad that you were led to Jen (I agree that Jen is a very good writer, as you are as well).
Like you, I also believe that life's serendipity often puts us in touch with people we are supposed to meet on our paths. The course of my recovery has been such that I definitely believe that constantly meet people who are placed in our paths for a reason.
Take good care, Debbie--Hugs back,
Melinda
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I know that feeling - wanting to write about traumatic events, and just... not quite being ready to. It hurts to keep it inside any longer, but it also hurts like the blazes to get it out.
I'm sure you will, and it will all be worth it.
Peace to you for your bravery.
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Svasti--absolutely--it has really hurt like hell to write about the past. Particularly some things, which no person should ever have to endure. However, I believe that in the final analysis, the result will be so worth it. It already is, really.
Thanks again for stopping by,
Melinda
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