365 days: Mirrored Life and No More Public Sadness

2 weeks and my soul is still very heavy.

I went to bed yesterday at 6:40pm and woke at 8am....

Still tired, aged 1000 years and my list of shit I need to accomplish continues to grow.

I took this picture to remind myself I am still alive...

My son is still alive....

and my heart is still beating.

all the cocktails in the world will not help

my drug days are way over (thank you)...

Talking to people really doesn't help, because all it does is push people away in an awkward manner

and 

ignoring myself apparently will not help 

I have told myself this morning, as I drink my green smoothie, get ready for going down my list and accomplishing things such as brushing teeth, eating a solid food, going outside, laundry (because I stink), and try to exercise...

I tell myself that I am not going to be that friend people want to ignore after today.

My life is not that heavy and my problems should be mine and mine alone.

But I am going to share a one sided story.

Then I will say my thanks to the people I love.

I was Elliot.

I lived the life of bars, strip clubs...poor choices in men.

is it a gene? is it a lack of fatherly love?

who knows. 

Was I sexually abused by my dad?  NO

The neighbor boy up the street? Yes...

but I thought it was a game....

I have never been a victim.

even after being raped by a man I knew,

 who broke into my apartment while I was at work and waited for me.

my fault...

play the game and recover...

These people in my life were poor decisions and I set myself up for bad shit to happen.

I was young.

I was headstrong

and I didn't care for myself a whole hell of a lot.

I worked precarious jobs, but was always smart enough to not get too involved.

I worked with questionable people,

but again....

stayed solo in my life...

hopping from situation to situation with close friends often not even knowing where or what I was doing.

did I do drugs?  yes.  

with the promise I would never shoot-up...

I never did...

but, you can get the same effect smoking or snorting.

Waking up in people's house and not knowing where you are...

wrong side of town...

outside in a yard...

with blood pouring from a knife slice from someone I trusted...

 and a scar not even a tattoo can cover

funny stories, now....kind of...

Somehow I avoided death and the addictive gene.

I begged my soul for help to be stronger, and to not want so much...

I wrote letters to myself...

reminders...

you got this

all by your self....

you got this.

I knew (know) I was (am) a broken person.

wanting to be loved more than anyone can actually give.

I finally left that town...Atlanta.

I escaped... 

moved to the mountains in Colorado

I got a day job

I milked goats.

Someone who did not know a thing about me gave me chance waiting tables in a breakfast place.

I didn't have access to drugs...

I didn't have access to friends...

I was horrifying lonely...

sad...

really sad

I lapsed a few times with poor decisions...

but I made it.

here I am....

and maybe that is why I am so saddened for the death of Elliot.

Because I saw her resume sitting on the table that morning when the police asked me to go in and look around. 

She was trying.

She constructed an entire resume outlining her strengths and work ethic.

To go from nightlife

to the safety of day life.

but she did not make it

stuck in the night.

That is my short version of my story.

Many parts of my life are very secret.

laughable and haunting.

here I am at 50.

looking into a time machine of a young girl who was living my life and many other's

poor choices...

heartbreakingly lonely

and a young man who couldn't fix or love her enough

Elliot/Ashton

photo by : Ilin Blue

this is my last day of horrible public sadness.

It does no one any good....

I am thankful for the few friends who  have come to me....

 even though I say to stay away...

I'm good.

so thankful.

My dreams and thoughts still take me to the comfort of that certain someone else...

 multiple times a day

comfort, safety, and warmth...

and quiet...

wanting to escape to the safety of strong arms...

💙

last day...

My kids need me

Her mom needs me

I think I need myself

write ya later

xo,

m