{October 11, 2015}   Is This Hell?


I ate my anger last night,
as if the instigators of my fury would disappear
swallow by swallow, bite by bite,
me furiously chewing without pleasure,
like an alcoholic slamming down drink after drink
until they don’t consider themselves drunk,
but they consider you the cause of every wrong thing in the world,

Carmelo bars, caramel wrapped lovingly in chocolate followed by another bar,
piece after piece popped in a mouthful of sand where everything tastes like the desert,
eating without thought, without taste or pleasure, mindless zombie chomping on chocolate flesh,
Kisses, the chocolate ones, I grab that tag and yank, exposed chocolate in the palm of my handy waiting to melt in my mouth, not in my hands, call my name seductive,
no melt danger there when you eat so fast you don’t taste a thing,
stress eating they call it, but I just call it stupid, a lack of control on my part,
because I hurt no one but me and my favorite skinny jeans

I smoked too many cigarettes again,
after promising myself and my doctor I would quit,
I did quit once, for maybe a year but then my life fell apart so I grabbed onto the nearest mentholated excuse
and drew that acrid smoke into my lungs like it was clean healthy air,
knowing in my mind that just because I roll my own cigarettes doesn’t make it less hazardous to my health
the cost may be less for a carton of machine-rolled than a carton of store bought cigarettes
yet the cost to my health is beyond my means,
all the psychological games I play in my mind to stop me from smoking disappear along with the menthol smoke
and I feel disgust as I look at the wreckage I’ve left in my wake,
empty candy wrappers and an overflowing ashtray adds to my self-loathing
and I wonder when I lost control of my self

infighting and passive aggressive words thrown at me,
and how do you defend yourself against imagined sins when your accuser throws back another shot
as the mental flogging goes on and on and on,
only to be forgotten in the light of day as my self esteem shrinks till my heart is shriveled and Grinch-like
and I flinch at the slightest side-look, waiting for another shoe to drop
knowing all the while I am shoeless, guilty of nothing other than
someone else’s paranoia,
imagined sins and baseless accusations, all courtesy of Mr. Daniels, but you can call him Jack,
he comes with a title you see, but I only know him as the Court Jester
because it’s all a joke you know, those words weren’t meant I’m told, where is my sense of humor and
why don’t I have a drink and calm down

why don’t I have a drink and calm down for
nothing matters you see,
the rollercoaster ride continues and I’m not buckled in,
I twist and turn and morph into a dumpster,
come one, come all, give me your tired, your weary, your problems
bigger than mine, for I am Jan Brady and the middle child gets all the garbage
while trying to keep the boat afloat,
all those years of taking care reduced to ashes
as the trophy boys hold their hands open, waiting for their due
and me?
I just want my Mother.
I want that unconditional love but it is gone for all time and
I must carry on, carry them, carry the guilt for nothing until I wonder,
is this Hell?

What have I done with my life and where did I leave myself?
Because I am gone, I look in a mirror and wonder who is in there, peering back at me,
eyes so sad I could cry from the mere sight of me,
stability ripped away like a rug yanked from beneath me
metaphorically battered and interior bruising,
my previous protectors an illusion shattered,
my desire to sleep forever whispers in my ear like a song stuck in your head
an effort to shake it away, and so much easier to continue wearing my mask…

Don’t let them in, don’t let them too close,
the knife you feel in your back is real, but ignore the blood as you slowly bleed out
play the game and you lose, don’t play along and still, you lose it all,
alone, lost, afraid, a path of darkness ahead and darker still in my rearview mirror
Is anything real? Did I imagine all the good that has left me standing alone,
fighting for nothing
fearing everything
I am swept into a corner and still I wonder,
is this Hell?



Hi Joanne, I am sorry that you go through all this right now. (((hugs))) Feel this as a loooooong hug from the heart, please. It does not solve all problems, but it is meant to ease your pain. I don’t know who you feel betrayed by, but it sucks that you have this feeling in addition to all else that is going on in and around you. You know, this alone makes me want to hug you some more (((hugs))). Some of what you write sounds scary for me, Maybe it is because I get some of the dark places better than I want to, and what helped me most in these times is talking to someone. I think it is how I learned from my granny never to give up. Thinking of you, you are not alone.

hugs and love


Always, without fail, you make me feel better… I try to keep things general in certain instances, when I talk about certain situations, but you see through, and I believe you know who I’m talking about… sometimes, when we marry at such a young age, we don’t see past the initial attraction and love, we don’t see the warning signs and when our self respect is in tatters it sometimes becomes hard to distinguish what is real and what is nothing more than a mental mind-fuck…. the love may remain, but it becomes easy to lose ourselves…I’ve heard it said that an alcoholic stops aging mentally to a certain extent when they hit that point where alcohol rules – it has a domino effect, and I think I will leave it at that for now,and when I’m able to say what it took me 10 years to say in therapy, I will PM you, because I know you will understand ❤ In case you didn't notice, I love you ❤
All the hugs are yours my sweet, all of them ❤

catrouble says:

Oh Joanne…I am so sorry for what you are having to endure. Hopefully this post helped release the pain a bit. I really wish I could help you in some way. Sending lots of prayers, healing energy and positive thoughts for you.

Hugs and blessings…Cat

Thank you Cat, it’s weird in a way, to use my real name is a double edged sword, but I made a promise to my Mom to write truthfully and never be ashamed of anything…easier said than done, but necessary in a way, healing in the midst of all this turmoil isn’t easy, but knowing there are amazing strong women like you out there keeps me going more than I can say… one of the wonders of writing fiction is we can say anything, tell everything through a fictional character… oddly enough, I almost feel bad at some of the things I’m putting certain characters through, but I need to heal, what better way than to use my despair and write myself out of the bad and into the good.
I wish you were in NJ, but cyber friends can be closer friends than people I see IRL, you are one of those wonderful friends ❤

Hugs and blessings to you dear Cat, Joanne xox

PS: The fact that I named one of my characters Cat is coincidental 😀 ❤

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