Sobriety Stories

Ray is eighteen, a trans boy, and addicted to alcohol. He checks into rehab hoping to find some kind of control over his life. He has a girlfriend and thinks he knows who he is straight, loyal, and trying to survive. Then he meets Phil, twenty-eight, addicted to Xanax, sarcastic, charming... and utterly confusing. Phil flirts, teases, and slowly breaks down the walls Ray has built around his heart. Ray fights it, tries to do the right thing, but the pull is irresistible. As they grow closer, boundaries blur, feelings intensify, and secrets multiply. Ray struggles with guilt, sobriety, and identity, while Phil battles his own demons. Their slow-burning connection becomes impossible to ignore but love, desire, and tragedy don't play fair. This story is inspired by my own experiences. content warning ‼️ addiction, self harm, trauma, pregnancy as a trans male and abortion, dysphoria, boundary violations, toxic romance

I knew what it was, but that didn't make it hurt less in the morning.

While on the road during their 1999 Reunion Tour, Poison's "Behind The Music" episode airs. When the four gather together to watch it, CC is taken aback by some unsettling memories...and for once, he keeps his mouth shut about how he's feeling. *Currently a one-off but has potential to expand if my muse takes me there...*

Everything comes to a head in the fifth installment of this series. With Mickey out of the closet and Ian going thru the mania and depression of his soon to be diagnosed bipolar disorder, the Milkovich household is a different place... and yet, if nothing changes, nothing changes. Collin and Jagger's heroin addiction is getting the best of them and its obvious to those around them. But with the hustle and bustle of life on the Southside, it's every men for themselves... But what about the man who is dying before your eyes from their own hand?

I wrote this poem on my birthday. It's written as a promise to myself, my late mother, and my readers, that I will continue to stay sober and better myself. It also covers a small section of my temporary loss of sanity, suicide attempt, and week long stay in a nut house. I hope anyone reading enjoys.

Thoughts of a dopeless hope fiend

She could see this coming, but assumed it wouldn't get the best of her. She wouldn't be like others she knew and grew up with. She swore she would be better. But life always has different plans and sick jokes to play. When will it stop? When will there come a day where thing's are perfect, it's all she can think about, where is her light at the end of the tunnel? Follow the journey a girl who loses her way and numerous battles with depression and addiction. The journey of a girl who has witnessed hell itself. Most importantly, how will she get through it all?

Her breath hinged in her throat, and her stomach twisted into knots so tightly she thought she might collapse. It was as if time itself had stopped as her hazel eyes met with those beautiful brown ones that went wide upon seeing her as well. He straightened his posture and cleared his throat. A wobbly smile made its way to his thin lips as he rammed his hands into his coat pockets. "Hey, Abby," Thomas said, his voice meek and as wobbly as his smile. ※ #xmascontest2022 winner ※ featured on StoriesUndiscovered September 2023 ©️ _strawberry_skies_ 2022

A collection of Umbrella Academy oneshots based on prompts I found on tumblr

This is a poem about all the memories, good and bad, that run through my mind when I miss my mom. I lost her at 16 and writing is the only time i feel close to her. I hope anyone reading enjoys.

these are facts

Prequel to Barbed Wire Psalms Carousel of Destruction is a series of raw, confessional poems about the cycles we swear we're done with... until they pull us back in. Addiction. Relapse. Temptation. Memory. Survival. Every piece is a snapshot of the spin- the chaos, the crash, and the climb back out. These aren't pretty stories. They're the ones you feel in your ribs. - Left The Circle I - The Pullback II - Downward Spiral III https://www.patreon.com/posts/barbed-wire-144840033?utm_medium=clipboard_copy&utm_source=copyLink&utm_campaign=postshare_creator&utm_content=join_link

"Hello my love" was how I greeted her every single time. Every single malt scotch placed before me. The fellow drinkers at my sides, whether they were my fellows or not, I could feel their glances, their gazes and stares as I said the words. As if I was crazy. I didn't have many fellows left in my life, so perhaps I was crazy. Crazy for the drink I was. She was crazy for me, too.

poem about sobriety

I did not in fact stay clean at 18 years old. But it is when things started changing in my head. This poem goes back and forth between fact and fiction in a Gonzo type of way. Some of it is very real, some is very fake. Decide for yourself what is what. Please enjoy. P.S. when I finished this, it was at the time my favorite piece I'd written.

burns as it goes down.

Life. Times. Of an alcoholic, baking, goodwill junkie artist who dreams of making the world laugh and feel. Something.