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Bones Of Contention

I relapsed last night.
This will be my only time to tell about the sadness that brought me there.

I am going through a current chapter of my time here that is painfully exhausting.

One. I was wrongfully terminated from my last Employer.
I am now involved in a Discrimination Case. I successfully won the first round with HR.
The second process is taking a lifetime.

Second. I’m in a Three-Way Lawsuit.
I have no more financial means to continue my Fight, so an Agreement has been made and in Six Days, and after a nine month Court Battle, it will come to a defeated end.
*My honesty is my vice, and never giving up on anyone’s conscience will forever leave me spent.

Third. My Significant Other had someone break into my email and networking accounts to take Screen Shots to cause me harm for telling his truth.
*He lied about his Injury he received in Afghanistan.
The last 72 Hours, I have been living in his hell. Threats. Deceit. Divorce on the table again.
*After almost eight years of Marriage, the disruption he has caused: my life, my career, my health, my dreams, I am satisfied to give him a Divorce.
*Behind all my anger, I am heartbroken.

Four. My Health. My Colon is descending from my ancient body.
My SCN is in current trouble.
The Skin on my right hand has been falling off since Spring.
My R Lung hurts.
My MD has me reckless, deep in drowning myself.

Why wouldn’t I relapse?
Leaning over my dirty bathroom sink as I swallowed my toothbrush and filled the top of the drain with my late caloric intake of sliced mozzarella and doritos.


After the ritual clean-up, I went inside my bed. My alone tomb.
I closed my eyes. Brain photos of Christy Henrich and Karen Carpenter were singing me to sleep.

Goodnight little girl.
You have cracked wide open exposing your flaws and broken flesh.
They hear you weeping behind your life door.
But, Nobody cares.
Suck it up. Move forward. Even if dying in the process is your only answer.


“I step out the front door like a ghost
into the fog where no one notices.
In between the moon and me
I get a better view
of the crumbling difference between what’s wrong and right.
And I’m alone.
I don’t know.”
Counting Crows & AC

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