flowers, reflection and other thoughts : meth. shame speech. cravings. self determination.

this should be prefaced (because the rules of this storytelling and most others demand it) there is something to be said before the something that must be said. 

i am seeking peace. always moving and attempting to work that process. to see what it can manifest it self into in my lifetime. folk told me the other day that peace is something ugly and moving. that it, for them, was caught in the duality of stillness and the chaos. accepting that chaos will be and that stillness will be too. i take that- for me peace is seeing and holding to that always. chaos always is but so can be our stillness if we want to see it that way.

moving out of my old space recently has brought on hard feelings. more severed ties, more conflict, more movement with money at it’s center, as this evil thing. more trauma.   

moving out of my old space recently has brought on good feelings. more strengthened ties. more reflection, more movement with intention at it’s center guiding me to still shores. more growth. 

i am experiencing trauma, homelessness, addiction, set back, triumph, love, community, good food, laughter, downtime, planning, and intention all at once and it is a lot to process daily.

today i woke up feeling down on myself. and had several intense flashbacks of my drug usage.  

i felt embarrassed.

i believe this and feel this deeply.

i see myself for what is worst. what has been worse. what is worse. all the time. 

the dangerous thing about solitude is that it can fuck you in ways that no other lover/thrust/or drug can. it can leave you with yourself crawling in ears and doubling on self. it can… and, for me, does a lot. as a Black queer male i feel sadness for the ways in which i have allowed my body to be used, by White men and others, during my meth use.

and i think on that and i feel embarrassed and sad. i also feel the need to use again. i feel it rise up and i understand that for me part of my addiction has to do with my ability to understand, and forgive myself in order to be able to heal. i have to accept what has happened as much as i have to analyze it. and i am sitting with it. speaking it and then letting it go because it is a story of mine that only i give power to. i can move that sorrow around myself. it don’t move any other way. 

my sadness is just. this is a sad situation to remember and to have happened. and in this valley i also see more of what is- this is a tremendous gift. to be able to see this memory and to know that with my hands, mind, and tongue, i can create more. my world is beginning with each dawn. i have seen the world end in oceans on my pillow. every night i have seen this but i also know that we transition into dawn. change (the chaos of it) is a principle of the universe.

and so my sadness too, can exist and transform. it must exist and transform.

so must i.

and it ain’t easy. and part of understanding is knowing that i will fuck up again. we are building the tools that work for us. our parents and elders have their own ways of being to learn from. and other folk have methods. but no one is a greater expert on your healing than you. and so we fuck up because we are building our own models and it takes time to craft something fabulous enough just for you. 

i got through my sadness today in realizing that i could at least rejoice in getting back up. i got that strength and will. i messed up but i can always come back. and think on how to build more.

i rejoiced in getting up. 

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