Poster Grrl

I wrote Poster Grrl because I felt it was a part of my life others struggling with addictions could relate too and appreciate. I know for me, being out on the streets in my twenties and feeling quite safe and secure seems absolutely insane to most- so I wanted to delve into why I felt okay. I mean I was completely wasted the entire time, but why was I not afraid of my situation, but terrified of getting better? I think it is because I knew I could trust myself more than I would ever trust anyone else. This stems from never finding or thinking anyone could or would ever have my best interest at heart. I grew up catholic and went to catholic school, but my home life was anything, but divine. My parents took in foster kids when I was around eight and that just fucked my world up. I had a foster brother- Doug Dimmitt- that came from an environment of abuse. He learned how to navigate and maneuver in his world through abusers so it was no wonder he would act on his impulses when taken out of his environment. The shame and guilt that followed tore at me so deeply, I had no outlet to release my screams upon. Like a good catholic girl I kept my mouth shut and wondered, in silence, why God hated me. I also had a father who was beyond corporal punishment for his children and his beatings were not only mental threats, but actual acting on those threats. My only saving grace was my mother- whom I loved more than my own self. However, that wasn't enough to keep myself from imploding. I felt so much hate for my foster brother and my father that I turned it inward onto myself. I was so lost. I was so alone in my thinking. Secrets had to be kept, but as a child you are bursting to let them out. I started drinking at age 8. I remember watching Dallas and thinking, "Oh this is how grown ups deal with life- they drink." The first drug I ever took was cocaine. Cocaine!!! I was 13. By the time high school came about I was about 20lbs. lighter and fearless (on the outside). I realized I liked girls and then boom my catholic upbringing sealed my deal with the devil himself. I dove head first into finding someone- anyone- to tell me I was love-able and loved. Not my family mind you- they don't count, they have to love me- but a significant other. And thus began my life of never believing in myself and always looking for another's approval. to know I was okay. Needles to say I was disappointed on so many occasions I turned to my creative drinking and drugging into an art form. It gave me comfort, courage and the ability to tell people what I really thought about life. Unfortunately- or fortunately- I was so little that a lot almost took me out. I went to treatment 12 fucking times. So many times in so many different institutions and cities that they all started to blur together. Everyone who approached me would want to know why I just couldn't get better. Girlfriend's, counselors, friends, family, social workers, etc. they all said the same thing and I just couldn't find the clarity to see my life as better being sober. Eventually I hit the bottom of hell and still refused to give up my lifestyle. Why? I don't know, but I do know it is easy to judge people's worlds without having walked in their shoes- so I just wanted to show people a glimpse of literally walking in my shoes. Some say I was a tad schizophrenic, others say I was suffering from trauma or severe depression, but regardless I felt safe.
I don't live my life in a blur anymore- I wake up instead come to, but I always know one sip, hit, smoke etc. and I will be right back into that clouded collision I called life.