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Venomous Veins

I have been running from the demons in my life for as long as I have been able to run. The worst began when I reached puberty, and could not stand to be at home with my family. At such a young age I felt that the whole world was out to get me, and that my family was right in there with the rest of them. I had no one. I turned to strange men for love, trying to heal the wounds of sexual abuse. I needed attention and I was willing to take any that I could suffer. I ran away from home at age 14, not understanding the hell that I was living in. My world would build up and explode each month with my monthly cycle, and I kept this all to myself. I started drinking to dull the pain.

I became seriously mixed up with alcohol and men, dropping out of school and hiding away in the folds of darkness that had become my life. The damage to my heart and soul was overwhelming; all I could do was hide from emotional turmoil, jeopardizing my sanity. I was trapped within this darkness, seeking refuge from harm. This delusional place became a sanctuary away from reality. A safe place for me. I was haunted by uncovered secrets, I was at many times suicidal and with nowhere to go. I got to a place where I couldn't feel the warmth of a summer's day. The rain as it hit my skin. I did not hear the birds chirping anymore. I had no colors in my life, just shades of black. Black and white. I was at a crossroads of disaster.
As I grew older, I saw many doctors. But I never stayed in one place long enough to keep a history of my illnesses. I felt that it was no use in speaking to the doctors; I was either suicidal or so manic that I felt that my world could not get any better. One month it would be total defeat, no will to continue anymore, no hope. All is lost. I would see the doctor and explain this but by the time the test results were in, I had forgotten all about that episode and had moved on to a place of exuberance. A place where the beast is set free, and he has cast away his shackles and oblivious to reality, free from rules and morals. Using alcohol to calm the beast, it would become unbearable to cope with; no medications would have the desired effect, to calm in a time of crisis. I would block out others, my character changing from a kind and loving person to one who would live a reckless, life threatening life, caring not for the safety of others. Always turning to my drugs and drink of choice, numbing the pain of my mental anguish. Desperate to remain in control

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