michaelknight

There are times in my life that I’ve thought were so difficult, so hard to get through that I didn’t think I’d ever make it out the other side. Then, when it was over I would have given anything to do it again. Such is the case of my summers at The American Dance Festival (ADF) @ Duke University in Durham, NC, 1993-1995.

I had the honor in college of being the first student in my college’s history to choreograph a dance and take it into competition at the college level of that program. I then was further honored to be the first student from my college to win a full scholarship to ADF and attend.

The 6 months leading up to the festival were not a happy time in my life. Situations at home were escalating to a boiling point and eventually I left my family. My friends took me in and let me sleep on their couches for the weeks leading to my departure. Upon arrival in Durham I met the most wonderful people. 5 strangers bonded together to live in a 2 bedroom furnished apt. for the summer. We had no money but we had dreams, we had goals, we had hope.

Living with strangers makes you look at yourself in a very introspective way. I learned something from each of them and will laugh with them to my grave. I struggled with my emotions, dealing with the demons of my life while thrust into my current situation. My family had just turned their back on me but these 4 other strangers (and everyone else at the festival) just accepted me for who I was in front of them, not the person I was to my family. I was never accepted like that before.

That summer was like no other I had or ever will, experience. It was intense. I was thrown into a world consumed by dance. I trained hard, I worked hard and I experienced parts of myself I didn’t know I had. Mentally, physically, emotionally it was a draining summer. When pushed to your limit you learn things about yourself that you otherwise wouldn’t. I learned I’m stronger than I gave myself credit for. I also learned that even when I had no more energy to give I could still give it 100% more when pushed.

The ADF community is like no other. We see the most amazing performances from all over the world, train with the greatest dancers and grow in ways we didn’t know possible. There are cultures that you’re exposed to that never in a million years would you be exposed to and that is wonderful. We push each other, we support each other, we fight to the bitter end, but at the end of the day, we are there for each other. It’s a support system like no other. People see you break, see you bleed and see you succeed and they stand beside you the whole time. My life changed that summer.

I went back the following year on scholarship again and then the 3rd year I was offered a position on staff in the offices. Over the 3 years I got to perform wonderful dances and be a part of something incredible. The friends I made back then are still friends of mine to this day. Some we’ve lost touch and reconnected, others we’ve stayed in touch, but the general theme is that we all share a common bond, ADF.

Part of me would like to think in my 3 summers at ADF I left an impression. Maybe just a fraction of the impression that the festival left on me, but an impression nonetheless.

As my life went on, I suffered a back injury due to being hit by a pick up truck while walking across the street. Eventually, over the years, it worsened to the point where I was crippled and bed ridden. I fought my way back to be able to walk again but I still want to dance that last dance. I live with pain and discomfort 24 hours a day. Self medicating with alcohol has eventually led to me having a problem with alcohol. But it’s all I have.

I was never the best dancer and I was never the person whose life was going to be based in dance but I loved it just the same. I gave it my all, I had the passion and I accepted the joy that it brought my life.

As I look back each summer I think back to those times at ADF as being the best of my life. It’s a shame that the best parts of my life were in my early/mid 20’s but I’m glad I had them. Summer makes me a little sad to see the things in my past I miss, such as the festival, but it makes me look at my life again and see where I’m at, or in my case, where I’m not. I miss the friends and the support.

I want the last dance. I want the last applause. I choreograph in my mind and in the back of my head think that one day I can get it together to actually put it on stage for one last hurrah. I just want that last day on stage to stand there and say, yes, I did it, I overcame, I fought back and here I am. Just one last time.

I look back and see that early 20’s young guy, full of dreams and hope and ambition for the world ahead of him. There are forks in the road, some are there naturally, some life throws at us and some we create ourselves. The big question is how do we navigate them and come out the other side smiling….

Today is 4 years since my back went out for the worst time. It was due to an accident a few years earlier but the back going out this time was the catylist for the rest of my life.

And they all said...

And they weren't there...

I have the strength, but, why don't I have the strength?

My hand has been waiving above water for 40 years and yet no one see's it. Maybe my hand is lost within the waves and sand...

A life so far away. So far from who I am. From who I know. The streets have different shops. They have different looks.

My family is not the same. I wish they were. I hated it back then. But now I wish it was today. We fought, we laughed, we cried. We didn't get along but we were One. Lives don't turn out how we want them, or how we hope or even how we, in the badest of our dreams, think. They just turn out and we are left to deal with them.

No Cinderella. No Prince Charming. No Happily Ever After.

Life happens. People make mistakes. Things happen to people beyond their control and they are left to pick up the pieces and go on, if they are lucky.

I'm not a person who believes in happy endings, smiles make the day get better or an apple a day. Life is hard. Life is cruel. School doesn't prepare you for life. You have to live it to be in it. I am a survivor. Time and time again, I have survived. Sometimes the darkness seems unbearable. The light seems unreachable. But I'm here. For better or worse, I'm here.

I keep putting off the book of my life, not because I don't have the time to write it, but rather it's painful to relive the memories and type it all out again. Going through my journals is very empowering as I see how I've been through great traumas that most people don't realize or would survive and yet here I am. At the same time I have to think if I'm better off for having the strength to survive.

Darkness, drama, demons. They exist. Every day is a struggle, a fight, a decision. Decisions have consequences.

I have tried to rebuild my life. On paper I am a liability. On paper I'm no good. On paper they don't see the struggle to succeed. On paper they only see the fall, they don't see the rise. They don't see the rise.

I had a 2nd chance at life, at living and I'm here, standing to prove it turned out well. On paper they don't see that. On paper I stepped off that cliff and dropped to my destruction.

There has been so much in my life taken away from me, ripped from my body, thrown in the trash, but what has always remained, even when I didn't see it myself, is ME. I'm stronger than all that has been taken away from me.

They don't tell you about the consequences of 2nd chances. But I'm going to still try. Life tells you to keep going and strive for the 2nd chance but then life is the one that tells you NO when you ask it to look past the past and look at the 2nd chance and the work and the rise.

I'll get there. I know that. I'll get there....

Right now there are 3 "B's" that are ruling my life:

Bankruptcy
Broken Lease
Blood Pressure

Each has their own rightful place in my life and each has a reason for being in my life.

I make no excuses for my life. Not to say I don't have regrets. We all have regrets, admitted and verbalized or not, we all have regrets. But I make no excuses for my life. I own what my life has become. Good, bad, indifferent, at the end of the day it's all me.

I was walking across the street and was hit by a pick up truck. It ruined my back and it ruined my life. The damage of that accident will forever follow me the rest of my life and not just in the physical sense. I fell through every crack in the CA system to receive help. I got help, but not long term help and I was misdiagnosed so, unbeknownst to me, the help I was getting was wrong.

Eventually I was unable to work. I had to file bankruptcy because, physically, I was unable to work to pay my bills.

Being crippled and not able to work, I was about to either get evicted with no place to go or kill myself. Personally, I was rooting for the latter.

A friend stepped in and said for me to move to Chicago and get treatment there. To do so, given I had no money to my name, meant breaking my lease from my apt. of 7 years. I explained to the building manager my situation. He said I could give the full amount notice, but fall into default on the rent, but a better solution would be for me to technically say I'd be out of the building by the end of the month but really leave in 7 days because where my apt. was located, he would have no problem doing the painting, new carpets, etc. in a week and showing it and renting it the following week so if they can get someone in there before the next month's rent is due, then they don't consider it a broken lease. And I'd get my security deposit back.

Lies, lies and more lies.

So I have a bankruptcy and a broken lease due to my broken back. I now have the added issue of high blood pressure (we won't talk about my liver) to the point where I should be dead, while dealing with all of this.

I have contacted several apts. I have been up front about my circumstances, the fact I can now walk again, steady job, and explaining the reasons for my quick move from LA. I can provide several months up front, I can provide doctor's letter's stating my condition. No one will rent to me.

I just don't understand this society. Lindsey, Paris, Nicole, they potentially kill people with their irresponsible behavior, serve 42 minutes in jail and are on their way. That is the American Justice System. But god forbig someone fall on hard times based on an accident, that was no fault of their own, well then you're screwed and we hate you and you can just die and live on the street.

No room for you at the inn...

Family is an interesting term. The initial image that comes to mind is the people we are realated to by blood. The latter is people who are so close to us we consider them a part of our world we refer to as "family". But what is the meaning of family? I see it on paper. I hear it said in passing with some sort of importantance.

Last week I ventured home for the first time in 7 years for my 20 year high school reunion. Some people I hadn't seen in 7 years (my mom's funeral), some I hadn't seen since our 10 year high school reunion and others I hadn't seen since our 5 year reunion or graduation day.

To some, time mellows people. Enemies learn of their mistakes and become friends. Others realize nothing has changed about themselves and they are just as snotty and stuck up and look down on everyone else just as they did in high school, yet you look at them and can see that they are vapid and living in a shell and have no real emotion in their lives and feel sorry for their children for not getting the love they deserve.

I took the high road where my family was concerned. Previously, some of them had moved and not told me where. Eventually, through various sources I got their email addresses, so I added them to my life of people to notify of my return home in hopes of getting together.

To my surprise my sister, who had moved, called me and planned a mini-family reunion dinner. I thought that was a big step in the right direction so I said yes. Then she asked (because she couldn't remember) why we had been estranged for the last 2 years. Not wanting to start a fight because I was greatful of the new connection I simply said it wasn't for a phone call discussion and we moved on.

I went to the mini-family reunion and I did have a good time for the most part. But good time can also be described in many different ways. I treaded lightly. I met the nephew's boyfriend. No one has ever told me he was gay. I found out accidentally. I also found out accidentally that he had a lover of many years that my whole family embraced yet pushed me away. Long story, whatever.

Anyway, denial was out in full force at the family dinner. I didn't offer up details of my life so as not to bring about a conflict but at the same time they didn't ask anything about me. I saw that their lives in that little town had not changed and they were just as small as I had remembered them. As I was leaving the dinner I was asked "where are you staying?".

I met up with 2 of my sisters on other occasions. Each brushed me off. On my last day there I was told by one of my sisters when I went to her work (at a grocery store) to say good bye, "I have to put in this order, we'll talk later". She never even looked up from her papers. I told her I was going back home today and she never even looked up. I know people are busy, but I also know her job and she was purposely being rude. Again, whatever. It was expected.

Where I'm basically going is the the woman I stayed with, Danielle, was wonderful to open her house to me. We went to high school together, stayed in touch, she was at my mother's funeral with me.

On the day after the reunion where I thought I might meet up with people from the reunion for lunch or dinner while Danielle was out of town, her sister, father and mother came over and asked me if I wanted to go to dinner with them or have dinner at their house.

My own family didn't even offer that. Which begs the question of why do people consider blood realitives family when friends who mean more are more a part of family than the actual blood tie?

I treasure my friends more than my family. I love them. The reunion of family can mean my friends that I value more than my blood ties....

I wish I could write. I wish I could put down on paper the feelings, stories, experiences I have had in my life. Almost everyone I know who have read things of mine over the years have told me to write it all down. The intent is there, the emotion is there and the desire is there. I'm just helpless to follow through and complete the process.

I think having a writing partner is one of the greatest things out there. Previously, I'd seen friends of mine who write for tv shows and movies and think, "why do they have a writing partner?". Now I understand why.

Bouncing ideas off of someone is necessary or it becomes pedantic and one sideded. You tend to repeat the same thing over and over again if you don't have someone to help you flesh it out sometimes.

There is a writer in me. I just keep getting to the gate and can't go through with the finished product...

So today was the last day of the antibiotic I had to be on since Aug. 6th for my emergency root canal. OMG it has been a terrible 2 weeks.

Since I've probably already been listed as a "difficult patient" I just toughed it out and let it do it's worst on me and sit back and take it. I knew I had to finish the medicine so I just did it.

Of course me being a big old dumbass, I decided this afternoon to actually read up on the antibiotic to see what was up. Well, apparently I'm a text book case of almost every side effect for this particular drug. But it get's better. When faced with ANY of these side effects it doesn't say to stop using it an call your doctor. No I get the CALL YOUR DOCTOR IMMEDIATELY and in my case I had MOST of the symptoms. Oops.

Aside from the sick stomach, the aches, the pains, the discomfort, the lack of appetite, the living in the bathroom, somehow, somehow, I've managed to GAIN almost 10 lbs in 2 weeks and I could barely eat cause I was so freaking sick!

Fingers crossed I don't die in my sleep. Although today my tooth (or in my current case since I don't have the crown yet... my nub) hurt like hell today so I took a pain pill. Well I was outside with one of the guys I live with and a Chippendale Dancer who was moving some furniture out of our house and I started sweating and feeling really, really, really sick to my stomach and then everything in front of me became really sparkly.

I excused myself, barely made it to the front door, closed the door behind me and fainted on the floor for a second. Got up, made it to the bathroom just in time to throw up. Quickly drank a glass of water, laid down for about 2 minutes and then I was fine again (aside from the normal problems this past 2 weeks). Yeah this is how I've been living my life the last 2 weeks: Housebound, chained to the bathroom and sick to my stomach.

Sooooooooo glad I finished the last pill today. Ugh...

I don't want to live in a cacoon. But I do.
I don't want to hate waking up every day. But I do.
There are things in this life that we can't control and I feel so at a loss sometimes to deal with that.

I don't want to have to explain myself and my past, but I do.
We all cry at the end of the day somehow. We may not know it but we all cry.
Where do the smiles go? When did we decide this is what we do? This is what my life is?
I cry when I go into my room each night. Grateful of what I have, but I cry. I don't want to cry, but I do.

I could rule kingdoms, I could make girls laugh. I could entertain the masses. But I do.
I flirt with the girl at Starbucks and she smiles and feels good. And inside I feel that I've made someone smile today. But not me.

Where did my life go? It's getting better, I know. I did a good thing for a friend today. She means the world to me. I don't have anything to my my name but for my friends, but I do....

We all have bargins in life. We all barter, we all trade. I want something that you have and I"m willing to do something for you to get it.

We bargin, we trade. I don't even know what I have left of myself I've given so much of myself away.

The new smile is a lie and the weight needs to be reduced. But the person remains. It's a lie, I'm living a lie, I want off the train. Just let me be me.

Answer the phone, take a message, don't cook that, sit in a corner and die...

I had to have an emergency root canal this week and so that wiped out my savings. I'm at zero again. I will be stuck in Vegas until the ice age.

Yeah, I don't want to be here...

Things aren't always what they seem. Life isn't always what it seems. The grass may be greener for a moment but turns brown inside your mind.

I did what I could to survive in Los Angeles and ultimately, the back injury got the best of me. Against my will, I moved to Chicago. Someone I barely knew offered me a chance at hope. I didn't expect it to work but I had a sliver of hope left so I went for it. I hated leaving my apt., everything I owned, but I went.

Life wasn't easy. Pride is a hard thing to overcome, even when you are at your lowest. But I wanted to survive and move on. I wanted to fight back and be whole again.

Somehow, I lost friends along the way. I value friends above family because my friends have been closer to me than my family. Without friends you have nothing. You can live without family, but friends are essential. When my job fired me for no reason, my friends from work wouldn't have anything to do with me based on their loyalty to the job and fear of losing their job.

Recently, I lost a friend. A guy I miss and still want to be friends with. He helped me when I was down and I'm forever grateful. But memories are sometimes faulty, and his skipped a beat about a conversation and somehow it all fell apart.

But anyway.... life isn't easy or what you expect and they don't teach that to you and you don't learn it in school. Some people may see my current life as perfect, but it's far from that. Eye of the Beholder and all that. Glass houses, etc.

I'm grateful for what I have but the portion of what I sell of myself each day, hopefully pays for what is to come. We do what we have to in order to survive. I want to survive...

I love to cook and have a garden and grow: basil, rosemary, thyme, tomatos & peppers.

Current favorite songs: Kelly Clarkson: Never Again, Sober, Maybe. Jon McLaughlin: Loving Me, Questions. Levi Kreis: I Should Go, Hardly A Hero.

I live with 5 dogs that are the greatest joy in my life.

I need to hit the gym on a steady basis, hard, relentlessly, really, I need to do it.

I miss friends I've lost over stupid fights / job situations.

Looking forward to my 20 year High School Reunion in October.

Completely debt free for the first time in my adult life.

Moving back to Los Angeles is going to be harder than I thought.

The left hand flutters
The right hand calm
Tapping in space and no one can hear
Words so loud it blinds me

Realizing a life of it's own
A truth to be told
The pain flows from the left
But it can not type

The left has no voice
The right screams out loud
2 million words a second
The left is just left

How do I write it
What will it take
Feeling left is what I know
Right shuts me up

The lines of dreams and reality are starting to blur. It's a fact that I can't ignore. I want so much for myself. So much that I've fought for. So much that I lost and fought to get back. So much that I've struggled to regain. So much... So much...

My goal is to get back to Los Angeles by the end of September but I recently had to (repay) a large debt, that frankly was "paid in full" over a year ago but someone called in a "marker" which they thought they still held and out of sort of knowing where the person was coming from I decided rather than show the person they were wrong, help them instead. So I cancelled my trip to North Carolina to ADF, I cancelled my trip back to Chicago for Market Days (where I would have made a shit load of money), cancelled my trip back to Chicago for Labor Day (where I would have made a shit load of money with my soon to have new body) and had to postpone my move back to Los Angeles by a month. I also don't get paid again until the 20th of July and had to borrow the money to (RE)pay this person but again, I did it because I have been desperate before and friends have come to my rescue. Of course I've never gone to that same person after they have "paid in full" and told them they still owe me money. But whatever. I'm the better person and I can sleep at night knowing that.

I've been hitting the gym, changing aspects of my life and the weight has been melting off and the muscle is bulking up fast. By the middle of July I'll be (hopefully) back to my fighting self. My back is holding up and my will to grow forward with a healthy body is amazing.

Sometimes the demons come and I do what I can to keep them at bay. To some people I currently have the ideal situation in life and in many ways I do. I am forever grateful of my current situation. But sometimes living in a glass house with bars on the windows made of razor blades does things to me I don't understand how to control. Sometimes the barbs cut deeper than the laugh. Sometimes the smile hides a tear. Sometimes it's true but it still hurts.

I don't know the person in the mirror looking back at me, but for the first time in years, I'm starting to see a resemblance of who I used to be. And I like that.

I have my 20th High School Reunion coming up in Oct. and I'm really looking forward to it. In many ways I hated High School but in a lot of ways I still have friends to this day who I made back then that I treasure deeply. I'm not that person anymore. And in most ways, I'm glad I'm not that person anymore. But in a lot of other ways I miss that innocence. Thin skin is a weakness of a teenager. Talent not recognized. Laughter and fun many times over.

Today was a fantastic day spent on the lake on a boat and among nice people. Hopefully tomorrow will be a fantastic day too....

I'm doing ok these days. Just checking in to let you know I'm hanging in there. More to come later...

Michael
http://www.MichaelKnight.net

... I am missing. Missing in action. Missing in life. Missing parts of my old life. I found out tonight that my old apartment in West Hollywood, CA is vacant and I've never wanted something more in my life. I want to move back there so desperately. Again it would mean starting over but I want it. I want it so badly I can taste it. I don't even know if I'd be allowed in the building, but I want it back. I miss it.

There are times in life where you have to leave something behind to appreciate how much it meant to you and how valuable a part of your personality it was to you. I know it sounds stupid, but it's not just the area, the building, the town, it's the apartment. That apartment signified a dramatic change in my life. I understand it's just an apartment and that it is not the be all and end all of life. I get that.

When I left, I wasn't ready, willing or able to say goodbye. I didn't want to go. Within 7 days time I was given a chance to leave, start a new life, survive, and I was gone. I didn't have time to say goodbye, to grieve, to condition myself to accepting that I was going to leave. At that exact point in life my choice was leave or die. 7 days later I chose to live.

We all miss things in life. I miss so many things about my life I can't even keep an accurate count of them all. I'm not delusional, I'm not misguided. I know the hell my life was the last year and a half there in that apt. That was no one's fault other than the person that hit me with his pick up truck and the Dr. that misdiagnosed me.

I am stronger, smarter, and have a larger desire to survive than I had back in April when I was beaten, broken and willing to die. I was missing in action in life. Now I have that desire back. I want it back. I want my apt. back. I want that independence back.

They probably won't even take my call inquiring about the apt. and for all I know it's only vacant until someone who's already rented it moves in, but I want a chance, I want to try, I want it back. I'm missing....

I'm depressed. Fucking Duh! I recently found out people I didn't expect to be reading my journal have been reading it. For some stupid reason that actually shocked me.

I publish these words not as a cry for help, not as a last testiment, not as a pity party. I publish these words as honest, raw emotions, there for excursion of my sould onto paper, the web, whatever. It is very theraputic to write these words and have other's read them. I don't expect people to come to me and ask to help me. I publish these words to help exercise my demons. I put the words out there rather than keep them inside. It helps me to get them out.

I WILL SURVIVE. I KNOW THAT. I HAVE SURVIVED FOR 38 YEARS AND I WILL CONTINUE TO SURVIVE!!!

There is no reason to be concerned for my safety, my well being, my soul. I do appreciate the concern but this is something I am (sadly) used to and will pass.

Right now my hands are gnarled into fists, my teeth are clenched, my mind is racing. This too shall pass. I have high hopes for the new year. Starting Tuesday, I want my life to start over again.

I don't want to be the pawn, I don't want to be the scape goat. I don't want to be the afterthought. I want to be a force to be reconed with, a power player in the game of life, a person that is recognized and matters.

I have a lot of goals for the next year. I want my health issues to go away, I want financial stability, I want to be happy for a short time. It's a goal...

The blink of an eye
The clench of a fist
The foot starts to tap
and I start to snap.

Vision is dulled
Light turns to dark
My brain is squeezed tight
I still try to fight.

Looking in windows of homes I don't know
Seeing dispair, I feel like I'm there
Can they not see me and all that I scream
We are all broken, what does it mean?

A scar, a bruise, a cut
A bandaide fixes all
The mind that's left to bleed
We know we all will fall.

A wave goodbye, a text for help, a tear upon your desk
The pencil breaks, the ink is dry, the bandaide's come undone
A window painted over, a mirror turned around
The scream it has been silent, a victim of your life.

I clean the mirror, I wash the face, I trim the beard way back
I'm still the same, full of the pain, the demons still attack
Claws become fangs, words cut deeper, awake until the end
Blood on the paper, the size of a billboard, no one came to mend...

I did something, today, that I probably shouldn't have done. I sent my family my annual choc. chip cookies for Christmas. I don't give presents but they have always appreciated my cookies no matter what.

My father has moved and I don't know to where. One of my sisters has moved but I found out her address. They keep secrets about my gay nephew from me, their addresses, things in life in general. But somehow, I feel the need to be the better man and send the the cookies, that whether they accept me or not, they will want.

I tried to be the nice guy. My life is in turmoil but I'm being the nice, unselfish guy. My family won't talk to me, and doesn't know where I live until they get the packages either. I figured why tell them where I live now if they moved before me and didn't tell me. But here I am, being the bigger man. I want them to have the cookies because I know it brings joy in the time of stress. It's a nice thing to do. I don't need anything in return, it's just me being a nice guy to people that don't deserve it, but I'm nice anyway.

I felt the need to be the bigger guy...

... Day after day I wake up thinking, I don't want to be here. I go about my day saying I don't want to be here. I end my day with I don't want to be here. No matter where I go, where I live, what I'm doing it's one long string of I don't want to be here's.

I woke up today, if you can call waking up at 1:30 AM and laying in bed awake until 7:45 AM "waking up", to find out that a friend of mine had died yesterday. It wasn't a friend I spoke to all the time, emailed regularly, or saw often, but he was a friend of mine. He died very suddenly and took everyone by surprise. He was one of the good ones. A kind guy with a heart of gold.

Going to work and dealing with attitudes of staff members, people not calling me back, and feeling helpless on more levels than I can count, I just came home. It all just seemed so petty, so pointless, so self involved for all the wrong people and all he wrong reasons.

Being at home, feeling sad for various reasons, wanting to cry but thinking why bother, I just sit here. I don't like this. I don't like myself. The safety of 4 walls can also be suffocating. They heal, they help and yet they trap. And it's not the walls that trap me. I do that to myself. There is a pain within me that only I know, that only I experience. People can see a fleck of it on the outside but it's a tiny part of the whole picture. I don't want to be here, no matter where I go. I don't want to be here.

I'm on a limited schedule at work. I'm essentially being punished for being a hard worker and team player and they cut my hours because they can't afford me. Then they come back to me asking me to further be a team player and help them out after the alloted hours are up. I'm not that much of a team.

I don't want to be here, I don't want to be there, I don't want to be anywhere.

Being depressed all the time is exhausting. I should be used to it by now, but I'm not. I don't sleep, I don't eat, I'm too tired to exercise, I'm always in a bad mood. I'm self destructive. I don't like myself.

We can all look back in our lifes on times we thought were terrible and find good spots. We think about the good and think the bad wasn't so bad. I miss my apt. in West Hollywood and the weather, I miss my freedom there. But I don't miss the struggle, the closed off aspect of my life. I miss my roommates in NYC, I miss how independent I felt, how important I thought my career was, how I was doing what I always wanted to do, I was accomplishing my dream. I miss my old neighbor, Jeremy and hanging out and talking with him. I miss being able to openly talk about my feelings, my depression, my day, my life. These days I talk with my friends from work about work. They see I'm damaged but we only scrape the surface.

I keep thinking to myself, patience in battle. Everything will be ok, everything will work out, you are damaged but will heal. This battle is taking it's toll. Do this, do that, do this again because I changed my mind, cut your hours, work more, we need you, go away, stop drinking, drink this, be there for me but I won't be there for you, don't cry, be strong, looks of disapproval, my looks for help, please make it all stop or someone help me with the answers or just to deal.

I don't want to be here...

I want my old apt. back. I want parts of my old life back. I know in infinite ways my life is better since moving to Chicago but I miss a lot of my life that made me complete. I lived in the same great apartment (alone) for 7 years. I loved my apt. I loved the location and everything about it. I miss it.

I know my life was hell the last few years there. I know I struggled just to feed myself. I know I suffered with depression so great I shouldn't even be alive today. But I'm here and I'm missing my apt. and certain aspects of my life there.

Looking back, I miss not being able to sleep and yet, knowing I could go to the kitchen and cook in the middle of the night and not waking people up. Walking to Trader Joes 2 blocks over for great, inexpensive food to cook with. Chicago is beter to get around but I miss parts of my old life.

Starting over sucks in many ways.

When I moved here I was broken, beaten and ready to end my life. Literally. I only saved things that would be passed on to my remaining family and friends and thought they might want it. Every spoon, spatula, bowl, finger nail clipper, etc., I've have to build back from scratch. I didn't plan on my life actually being something significant here in the long term. And yet, here it is.

Each day as I grow forward and heal and learn about life a new, I am happy and grateful for what I've achieved but look back at what I miss and what I had in many ways and I feel even sader then when I started. I want to go back to that apt., to that town, to parts of that life. But I can't. I'm not allowed. I have to move forward.

Does forward mean that I can't someday go back? Return to do it bigger, better, stronger...

I want it back. I want it back. I wish this was just a break to get myself right again, to grow. I want it back...

Seeing the pen fall off the paper on to the floor
The glass spills on the table and pour off the side
A piece of the meat meant for the fork,
falls on the side and on to the floor

Tear drops on paper blurring the words
Words left unspoken behind hidden walls
Finger to lips, shushed for the night
Don't tell the secrets, it is still light

I want to rise but all I can fall
The mops can not whipe up all that is lost
Bluring the lines between what is real
I look before me and see not the heal

Stabbing at photos fresh from the past
Leaving a mark although it won't last
I look before me and I see all sin
I'm a good person and yet they all win...

Wrapped in plastic and trapped under water
Sitting in a cage surrounded by ice picks
The war it grows stronger

Choking for air and a time to break free
Screaming out loud and cut by the silence
It can't go on much longer

I jumped the hurdle to land in the pain
What once was safe I no longer can gain
Closing my eyes so that I don't see

I want to run, I want to hide
Bleeding inside to where I can't survive
The clouded view wins today...

I escape by drinking. I escape too much. Escaping doesn't get me very far, it only creates more problems left to deal with the next day. It's not just a fix anymore. Get a scrape, put a band aid on it. Find a hole, put tape over it. Can't deal with life, have many beers...

I used to enjoy escaping my life. Now it seems there is no escape and it's bringing me down. Life is difficult, life is hard. There are no prep courses for life in school, it's just something you get thrown into and have to sink or swim. I've been treading water for 38 years and some days more than others I think I'm going to sink.

It's a difficult time in my life lately. There are many things in my personal life and my job that I'm not in control of and yet it affects me deeply and there is nothing I can do about it. My life is better since I moved to Chicago but I'm SO miss aspects of my life in Los Angeles. I miss having my things around me, I miss having my own apt. and coming and going at any hour of the night and not having to worry about waking up roommates if I want to make an egg sandwich at 3:00 in the morning. I just miss that independence. And yet, I don't have a choice. This isn't the life I chose but it's the life that I have and it's the life that saved me so I have to adjust. I just don't like my choices sometimes and the consequences attached to them.

There are fights I want to fight but I'm told I'm not allowed. I am being held down. Therefore I escape further. I try to lose myself to the point of un-recognition. Sadly, I'm not the only one in the cross hairs. I feel empty, weak and destroyed. Hollow. I lose myself because it's the only thing I have control over. And that control is a bad control. I don't have an eating disorder anymore and that used to be my crutch for many, many years. Sadly I wish I did. Then at least I'd be the only one I was hurting in that war.

I want to run away. I don't want to be here. I have changed in so many ways since I've moved here and many things for the better but in some, very important ways, I've lost more of me than I could afford to lose to stay alive. I thought starting my life over would be difficult. It was. I thought starting from scratch would be hard. It was. I never thought 2 steps forward of all of that to see what that would actually take. As I rebuild I realize what I've lost and have to get again and instead of being happy to get it again, I lament the loss of what I had. Boo fucking Hoo for me. I know.

7 months ago I didn't think, or plan, on being alive to even fight these demons. I am grateful that I am. But demons rise and fall and some days the demons win and lately they are dictating my life and I don't know how to take control of them. It's been a tough week. People don't like me much anymore as my true colors start to emerge. I'm a good person but I'm flawed. We all are flawed. Some more than others. And at work making me the scape goat for many problems that other people created hits me where I thought I was already numb.

I am not numb. I'm not allowed to stand up for myself. I'm not allowed to react. I have to be the good little bitch and say yes sir and yes mam and do as I'm told and then go home and escape to wash away the day of evil.

I like escaping my troubles but that only creates other troubles. Escaping doesn't get me very far...

You can stab me with your sword but I've got my secret shield.
You can cut me with your words but my band aids stop the bleeding.
You can stop me with your stare but my mind knows it's a lie.

Try as you will I am still here
Do what you can I am still here
You lose your mind and yet here I stand

My armor is stronger, my sword it is mighty
I will not back down, but yes I will stumble
Stumble but not fall, falter but not give up

My shield and sword are my strength
My strength it is great
I have survived the worst and yet here I stand

Give it your best, you will not win
Here's where I stand and here's where I rise
Nowhere defeat and no compromise...

When it's Fall, I fall. I have always been depressed in the fall. Good weather, bad weather, etc. I think it's just a reminder for me of being alone on my birthday through the holidays. I hate it all and it takes it's mental toll on me. It's like a switch is flipped and my emotions go from good to bad.

The demons have awoken. And they are fighting mad. I've been pretty good at keeping my emotions in check since I moved to Chicago. I had to, which sometimes was worse for me. I slept on a floor for months so I had no privacy to reveal my emotions and let them out. Now I have a room, but I have roommates. For the last several years I could retreat to my apt., worked from my apt. and had the freedom to fight the demons alone and on my own time. Now I don't have that honor. I'm thrown out into the real world again (and grateful to be there) but it made dealing with the depression sometimes even harder.

I find myself zoning out for periods of time. Like a bubble around myself hoping I don't pop or implode. I'm suffocating myself and only have myself to save me. Dark is a place I know all too well. Demons welcome me home and want me to stay. Screaming on the inside so loud I can't breathe. Keep it together, get through the day, drown out the cries for help. It's my daily routine. Self medicate until you forget the pain. One minute more, one hour more, one day more and you can break free.

When demons awake. When demons awake. When demons awake I'll be afraid I can't fight back...