Sober
  • OKUNANLAR 830
  • Oylar 46
  • Bölümler 7
  • Süre <5 mins
  • OKUNANLAR 830
  • Oylar 46
  • Bölümler 7
  • Süre <5 mins
Tamamlanmış Hikaye, İlk yayınlanma Nis 01, 2020
Yetişkin
Guess who's back and better than ever?! (not) 

Sobriety is such a misunderstood concept, and it wasn't until it became a central part of my life did I truly understand just how complex and misunderstood it has been. Alcoholism and substance abuse do not represent a particular environment that one was raised in, nor is it something that "dumb teens" get into just to look cool (well some do, but that's definitely not what this is collection is about). 

When you hold so much pain and trauma from your personal experiences, sometimes these substances are the only form of support that you have. I mean, it takes away the pain and the bad memories so why not? It's not some angsty teen shit, I'm a fucking survivor. Maybe one day I'll write about these experiences, but even I think its to graphic to comfortably express. And I know that some people have also been in scary, twisted and traumatising situations as well which lead to substance dependency and abuse. 

Sobriety is a journey. There will be highs and lows, periods where you are so heavily reliant on drugs and periods where you are able to stay away from it. There's no shame in relapse. It takes so much fucking strength so if you are going through it as well, I am so damn proud of you. 

DISCLAIMER: This is not a cry for help. Poetry is my therapy, and I can only reflect once I read over the word vomit that I spew from my fucked up brain. If you are contemplating life or starting to use drugs, please seek help. I'm here to give those who are going through something similar a calming voice that tells them they aren't alone. I'm in NO way condoning this behaviour.

Enjoy, and have a blessed day. 

- LDP
Tüm hakları saklıdır
Eklemek için kaydolun Sober kütüphanenize ekleyin ve güncellemeleri alın
veya
İçerik Rehberi
Ayrıca sevebilecekleriniz
Beautiful_Slugger tarafından yazılmış It's Okay to Use Your Big Girl Voice adlı hikaye
57 Bölüm Devam ediyor Yetişkin
Inside you will find a mixture of both, extremely RAW and refreshingly HEALING accounts of my personal war with my past. Unfortunately, Childhood sexual abuse is far too common, and many of share similar experiences. Looking back, what I could have used more than anything was someone to tell me "You're not alone, there is a lightness through the darkness, you can heal from this and most importantly don't EVER stop telling your story to make others comfortable". I've learned that silence is the best weapon for a predator, and I for one, have never been really good at doing what I'm told. I don't intend on starting now. I wear my scar as reminder that I hold the power in my own story, it is mine to tell and I won't make myself sick keeping quiet because my truths are hard to swallow, other people's comfort is not my problem. My Goal is rather simple, to let the readers know, they too are not alone. If you are a survivor, even if you still feel like a victim, this is my personal message to you. "You are strong, and it wasn't your fault. Tell someone... tell anyone...tell everyone... We shift from victims to survivors when we speak up and tell our stories. There's nothing wrong with you, and the light will shine again. The longer you sit in silence the more power your abuser still holds over you, wipe your face warrior, because there's a lion right inside of you, DONT EVER GIVE UP!" *This story is FULL of TRIGGERS, please be careful reading if triggers are hard for you, your mental health matters* *I own all the Rights to all parts of this book*
jyfvjhtv tarafından yazılmış Thoughts of a Juvenile  adlı hikaye
51 Bölüm Tamamlanmış Hikaye
Words are sharper than knife they say. Yes it is true. Some perfectly moulded good words can both make and break a heart easily. A poem is a group of such perfectly moulded words given wings to fly. They fly through the mind and heart easily. A hobby is an activity we do to express ourselves, our beliefs and our thinking. For example through drawing, dancing, singing, etcetera. Writing a poem is one of such hobbies. Here words are used. These words and messages are far more twisted. A poem hits the mind, a good poem hits the heart. Thoughts Of A Juvenile is just a collection of my poems.I started writing poems when I was 8. I may not be a great writer. But yeah I write to express. There have been times for me like many other teenagers where I thought I was lost and helpless. There have been good times too. I'm standing on the edge of teenage now, telling you that you can survive this. You can survive everything. All you need is to find your strengths. There are sad nights and then there are mornings full of opportunities. Don't give up. I'm here and I'll always be here. Whenever you feel down just remind yourself "Be stupid". Go out in public and the eat the food you like alone, ask out your crush, flirt like there's no one watching, dance like a ghost has possessed your body, prank people, have a little chat with the nerds you know. Surviving is an art not many can master. Be a Master. There are mistakes in this book and I tried my best to correct them. But couldn't correct them all. I would really love to receive reviews and criticism. Vote if you like it. Comment your views. And follow for more poems. Add it to your reading list or library.
cjacks1124 tarafından yazılmış Pinwheels and Dandelions adlı hikaye
177 Bölüm Tamamlanmış Hikaye
I was kicked around like trash on the streets. I was the book that nobody could understand or read, but without a care, they were quick to rip out the pages. I screamed for attention, but time after time, I was ignored. Nobody noticed me, so I made myself at home in my own shadow. They say there's light at the end of the tunnel -- I searched and searched for it, but it could never be found. Therefore, I lost hope as I hid in the shade and endured what seemed like everlasting pain. The little hope I did have was snatched from my arms. My baby brother was my life, and they took my glimpse of hope away. Home. Is that a word? Maybe for a family of some kind, but for me, I never had a place to call home. I moved from place to place. Unstable foster care, fighting for my life in group homes, barely surviving in detention centers, and running away from being mistreated as I made many benches my temporary home. The only thing that I was familiar with was a black plastic bag containing my dirty rags. I am too young to know what it feels like to survive. These are the cards life has dealt me and I am not meant to win; however, I easily lose without trying. It is hard for me to find peace. I am paying for my mother's reckless actions. I am trapped in a world where the sun has died because I am unable to feel love. I am unable to dream. Sorrow is my aura, and the sadness hugs me. My eyes are closed shut by the barbed wire fence from my eyelashes as they prohibit tears from falling. I am damaged. When will the morning come? Did the sun put up a fight last night, like I do every single day? If I can survive the day, I know the sun isn't dead. One day, I will awake to a glorious sunrise. Until then, I hope my brother keeps blowing his pinwheel, and I will keep making wishes with every dandelion I come across. For now, all I know is that everything was taken from me, and the only thing I own is my name.
Ayrıca sevebilecekleriniz
Slide 1 of 10
Emotional Amnesia cover
Live Outside cover
Message Not delivered... cover
It's Okay to Use Your Big Girl Voice cover
Something Mending -- VOL 1 cover
thorns and other maladies cover
Thoughts of a Juvenile  cover
Pinwheels and Dandelions cover
wilting roses cover
Coherence cover

Emotional Amnesia

98 Bölüm Tamamlanmış Hikaye

Sometimes when I say "I'm okay", I want someone to look me in the eyes, hug me tight and say, "I know you're not". I have felt like this many times in my life; as a kid, teenager and as an adult. I have seen many things in my life and felt even more things that has been horribly depressing... But I got up. I stood up to walk on for another day. I dealt with my emotional amnesia the only way I knew I could and that was by writing it out into poetry. I wanted to forget my pain and forget what I was going through. I needed that cut of the blade or a pill to drink to take everything away. My poetry became both my pill and my blade... Now I share the most intimate part of myself with the world. The part of me I kept hidden in the closet. The part I never thought I would ever present to the world. Now is the time I have to stop having amnesia about my emotions. It is time to learn, to better myself and to stand up and remember the things that I shut out like a voluntary amnesia all these years. Those who are offended after reading this - f**k you! If you are sad with me and willing to cut your wrist - I know how you feel! If you just enjoy the words - I love you! #679 in Poetry on 17/03/2018 #779 in Poetry on 18/03/2018 #807 in Poetry on 19/03/2018 #474 in Poetry on 22/03/2018