Tonight I called my sister-in-law. I told her I’ve been addicted to opiates for 15 years. Her response moved me to a point way beyond the shame that I have felt for so long, and into a place of absolute love and respect for the beautiful soul that she is (my shame that I wasn’t there for her as much as I could have been when she was going through the pain of her own addiction).

I was deeply humbled by her compassion, her love, her understanding, her willingness to be here for me whenever I may need her.

I also realise the pain that I am putting my husband through with all of this, and see his absolute love and support, his patience, despite the pain, anger, fear that he is feeling too. I feel so sorry that I am causing all of this and wish it didn’t have to be this way. I am sorry.

In my deep pain and darkness I have reached out my hand and been saved from falling deeper by three people (L, N and N) who have shown me unconditional love, understanding and support, way beyond anything that I could have ever imagined or feel I deserve.

I am lucky to have all of these people in my life. They have let me rant, talk about myself and what’s going on for me, be confused and broken. They have offered to hold my hand and be there for me. Patiently stood by and listened without judgement when I have fucked up, and fucked up again. These people have seen my raw vulnerability, a hard place to be. I feel like I have been seen.

I really find it hard to accept that I deserve any this unconditional compassion and empathy. I find it so easy to feel that familiar feeling of shame when I expose my vulnerability.

To help my understanding of my shame, I watched these two Ted talks again. Wow they were so fitting with what I am feeling at the moment.

Brené Brown – The Power of Vulnerability

Brené Brown – Listening to Shame

Four things really stood out from these Ted talks for me:

  • Shame is the fear of disconnection – Is there something about me that if other people know it or see it, that I won’t be worthy of connection.
  • In order for connection to happen, we have to allow ourselves to be seen, really seen.
  • Vulnerability is the birthplace of joy, of creativity, of belonging, of love.
  • You cannot selectively numb the bad feelings. When you numb those, you numb joy, gratitude, happiness.

I feel a deep, heart-felt gratitude for my husband, my sister-in-law, to N, L and N.

And tomorrow, I start another chapter. I’m going to my first NA meeting (though I’m very nervous).

Too Much

Too much awareness,
Everything suddenly illuminated.
Like a 5000 watt bulb switched on.
Shining in my eyes;
Hurting my head;
Scratching at my wounds;
Leaving me rigid, frozen.
Stopping my breath.
Conversations replaying;
Over and over like a stuck record,
Did I say the right thing?
Share too much?

And I breathe,
Reclaiming my sense of now.
It’s going to be ok.
I’m going to be ok.


I stand alone in this barren landscape,
The black, acid waters lapping at my feet.
How tempting is to immerse my broken self,
In the acrid sea of forever darkness.
My soul desperate, for connection,
To be held by true understanding.
I yearn for that pure, deep empathy,
That comes from one that truly knows.
When I stand in this place of deep despair,
The horizon I see brings no comfort.
I know I am strong, but I feel weak,
As my body (almost) succumbs to this living death.
I dream of that far away love, understanding;
And that one day, just maybe, you will hear.

One Breath

Today, I feel searing pain,
Not in my bones anymore,
But in my soul.
I’m alone, scared.

Reaching into the darkness,
Hoping for contact,

Feeling my way through the fog,
Blindly stumbling,
From one false hope,
To the next.

I crave, so badly;
Relief from this pain.
To be sleeping whilst awake,
Like before.

The voice in me concludes;
“Just another pill,
One more drink,
Will stop the hurt.”

I feel shock and shame,
Coursing through me,
Burning my soul;
From the inside

You asked “Are you ok?”
“Yes” (actually, no,
But I can’t say
How I really feel)

And then… I breathe,
I forget this so often.
I fill with pure air,
And I remember…

I have made it this far,
I can do this,
I am strong.
One breath at a time.

Who am I?

I am woman
I am mother
I am wife
I am daughter
I am friend
I am therapist
I am confidant
I am human
But who am I?

I am calm
I am intuitive
I am listener
I am mender
I am empathic
I am creative
I am trusted
I am strong
But who am I?

I am lost
I am alone
I am broken
I am addict
I am misunderstood
I am struggling
I am fragile
I am voiceless
But who am I?

I am creator of my world,
I am deep feminine,
I am intense dreamer,
I am profound writer,
I am passionate lover,
I am innocent beginner,
I am philosophical learner,
I am grateful survivor,
But who am I?

Who am I?

This is who I am.

Fucked Up

Fuck. Fuck. I’m so fucking angry with myself. I lapsed, just once, and I’m really struggling with how much that has totally fucked everything up. My head, my life, my relationship, all the hard work I have done recently. All for one fucking opiate induced hour or so peace from what my head was throwing at me. Where the fuck did that come from?

I feel so much shame, regret, so much pain in my head and my heart.

I don’t know how to come back from this. I can’t do this anymore.

Never fucking again. Never.

I am literally living one second at a time.

I need help…


We’re on first name terms, shame and I,
Like an old friend, comfortable in their presence.
I’ve tried many tricks to get away,
Running, avoiding, hiding.
Travelling so far,
Mainly down roads where numbing was the destination.

Sometimes, it tricks me, I believe I’m free,
Then, I feel it creeping across my skin.
Seeping through my pores,
Entering that comfortable place.
I feel it chilling my core, in my bones, in my heart,
Inviting itself to reside wherever it likes.

I try to befriend it “its ok, you belong here”
I shout at it… “Fuck off, cunt”
But shame just laughs in my face,
Taunting me with its tempting offerings.
I only know the old ways,
Taking risks, numbing, succumbing.