I ain’t got no home, ain’t got no shoes
Ain’t got no money, ain’t got no class
Ain’t got no skirts, ain’t got no sweater
Ain’t got no perfume, ain’t got no bed
Ain’t got no man….

I’ve got life, I’ve got my freedom
I’ve got life
I’ve got the life
And I’m going to keep it
I’ve got the life

“Ain’t Got No – I Got Life” as sung by Nina Simone

Freedom from Men

Men: Number One treated me like crap. Number Two was a racist misogynist. Number Three was just trying to sell me shit. Number Four was 45 minutes late. Yes, four men. Two sexual encounters, two AWFUL dates = four encounters with men that sucked. Is this God’s way of saying “Go lesbian” or “take a break”? I don’t know. Maybe the latter.

Freedom from Alcohol

I do NOT want to be living in this god awful house anymore. The living room reeks of cigarette smoke, hard liquor, pot smoke. They know I am sober. They know I cannot be around these things anymore. I am three years into my sobriety. I stopped asking them to stop a long time ago, especially after I started Al Anon. I am in touch with a woman who I might be able to move in with. I really hope it happens. I can’t be around my family of origin anymore. I can’t do this.

God, please help me get out of this hell hole.

If you saw it from the outside, you would say, “How normal.” But being here, I suddenly see so much trauma, my thousand paper cuts, and I feel them when my eyes graze a certain piece of furniture or corner of the yard. My eyes pick up on a shade of color, my nose remembers a scent. I get inundated with memories I don’t want. I did not choose this family, this house, their addictions, their dysfunction. I don’t want to be here. I did choose my own recovery and that is always my choice.

Freedom from Fear

Next week I have to testify in that goddamned court case. I do NOT want to do it. I don’t want to relive what I witnessed, what I know he did to her. The victim has been at our house getting wasted, passing out on the couch. A shot glass full of alcohol left on the coffee table in the morning. I walked by it 30 minutes later and it was empty. Was it my mom, was it her. I don’t know. Tired of these alcoholics, codependents, untreated and undiagnosed.

Freedom from Suffering

My body sucks right now. I hardly did anything with my hands, wrists, or arms today. Typing out these few paragraphs is giving me such grief. Sitting cross-legged, my ankles aren’t having it. I have slept more in the last 24 hours than I have in a very long time. 15 hours of sleep. 4 hour nap. Heading to bed soon. I don’t know. I thought being off work would make me feel better by now. Instead, I have noticed how low my energy is… I wish I knew how to improve my health. I wish I didn’t have this fibromyalgia diagnosis [AN: the dictionary doesn’t think Fibromyalgia is a word… how funny…].

Grateful to be Free

I would like to run into the sunset, the wind, the horizon. I would like to escape to a far off land, into a man’s arms, into a new job. My higher power, for some reason, wants me to be right here, right now. My high school mentor is dying of cancer, men suck, I have a stupid court case I need to testify in, this physical diagnosis feels so debilitating…

Today I am grateful for my chosen family, my friends in recovery, and my higher power. Today I am grateful for the ability to finally say “NO” to assholes and stick by it AND block their fucking numbers. Today I am grateful for my little dog for reminding me love exists in many forms. I am grateful to be able to type, even if this took a few hours because my computer lost battery, the WordPress site didn’t auto-save my draft, and I had to rewrite a lot of this. Today I am just grateful to be alive, even if many of the conditions of this body and blood family hurt. Suffering is optional.

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