Tales from the Abyss

Being Strong

As a general rule, we as humans are not infallible. We do however put up our walls to hide behind lest we show the world that we have faults, emotions and "chinks" in our armor that we cannot, or will not, share for fear of being seen as weak or pitiful. Hiding behind our "tough cookie facades" we show our brave faces that belie our true emotions that are lurking beneath the surface. Feeling that you have to appear strong and superhuman to those around you that are relying on

you

to be the tower of strength and hold everything together, while deep inside you feel like everything is just crashing down. You hide your tears, your hurt, your anger and your sadness by putting on that brave front. Sometimes you resort to desperate measures in order to uphold this veil of illusion that you have cast around yourself. Eventually, the strain of 'being strong' becomes too much to bear.

I know.

I myself spent many years hiding behind that same veil, with the feel of the weight of the world crushing upon my shoulders. Many years of hiding, drinking, sleeping around and cutting; anything to let my emotions out… or to bury them.

It never worked though.

The First Drink is the Strongest

I can still remember the fist time I drank. I was 18 and at camp. I was dealing with the stress of being the only one in the kitchens most of the time and needed an escape. That, and dealing with some depression issues as well. Little did I know that first drink would lead me down a path that I've been fighting ever since.

I spent the rest of that summer in a haze of drunken nights and hangover filled mornings. Looking back now I start thinking that I should have seen the signs of things to come.

But I didn't.

From the moment that I took that first drink, I was an alcoholic. I still remember the taste, smell and feel of that first drink. It was like making love for the first time and everything being perfect. I loved the feel of the bubbles as they caressed my tongue, the tangy aroma as it filled my nostrils - then the sting and the gentle heat as it swirled in my stomach. I loved the buzz and eventual drunkenness that gradually enveloped me. I liked the way I felt more open to people yet was still able to hide from everything.

I was never able to capture that feeling again, though Goddess knows I've tried.

In the past few years, my drinking habits have varied but one thing always remained. The reasoning.

It used to be that I drank to escape or to keep from being sad. Then...slowly, the reasoning became that I was drinking because I was sad. I started realizing off and on about a year ago that there was a problem. The glowing realization became apparent this year as I started drinking before work, as well as after.

Right now I have just barely 60 days of sobriety under my belt and I'm taking it one step at a time.

But alcohol wasn't the only method I used to cope...

The First Cock is the Shortest

"You use sex as a weapon. You said so yourself!" ~John Bender to Claire Standish (Breakfast Club)

To some degree, I myself am guilty of using sex as a weapon. However the only true casualty was me. I have used it to get back at my ex-husband and I've used it to hide my own pain.

It wasn't always that way though. You see, I lost my virginity at the age of 21 to a man that later became my husband. While married, I never once cheated on my spouse during the whole time we lived together in the same house. However, after we separated the tables turned and in my hurt, manic state, I did, for all intents and purposes cheat on my husband with a man that I barely knew... A man who was 5 years younger than I was, and that I had met online.

With this began a pattern that lasted for a year and a half of seemingly random fucks with men online that were 5-10 years younger. While it is no excuse, I was not thinking clearly and now I have to live with the consequences of my actions. I've had pregnancy scares etc, but luckily I have come out of this mostly unscathed, except for my pride as I started to be seen not only by others, but by myself as well, as nothing more than a drunken slut.

Why I chose to mask my pain in this manner I may never know, and if I could turn back time and erase these mistakes I would in a heartbeat. But in the end, would I then have learned anything from it? Truth be told, the saddest realization of all is knowing that during the times of my indiscretions, I was in fact stone cold sober. Food for thought... food for thought.

The First Cut is the Deepest

But this ride of trying to hide behind the veil doesn't stop with just sex and drinking. All I have to do is look down at my arms and ankles to see the final form of trying to 'be strong' and put on my facade while slowly falling apart. I can see the result of pain that was just too much to bear.

I swore that I would never be "one of those people that cut themselves because that's just seriously fucked up”.

Well, I guess I'm just seriously fucked up.

The scars of my cuts tell a story, a history if you will. I can tell you about the first cut that I made on my knee back in April of 2001 that I made with my dagger. I can tell you about the most recent cut that I made three and a half weeks ago which has finally started to scab over.

The scars are nothing more than a road map to my own personal history.

A history that belies the bravado that I showed the world.

You may ask; "Sure, you've had pain, but haven't we all at times? Why do you choose to cut yourself?"…

Honestly?

I don't know.

I guess it's for the immense flood of relief I feel as the pins (I always use straight pins) slice through my skin. The sting of pain that allows me if only for a moment to feel anything other than what I'm feeling.

Some so-called "experts" would tell you that cutting is nothing more than a mock suicide attempt. I tend to disagree. I wasn't cutting to attempt to kill myself. I was doing it to avoid killing myself, as it gave me something to focus on other than dying...

I'm working on it though, I really am.

The End?

What was my point in sharing these very personal stories with you? Maybe it's just to get it all out in the open so I can deal with it better. A form of catharsis for myself. Or maybe I do it to serve as a warning. Mainly it's just to prove that I myself am not infallible and have my faults. I am not superhuman and I've lived life 'behind the veil' for too long. Now seems like a good of time as any to step out from behind it.

Miss Rhiann

I have my own life, and I am stronger than you know.

by

Rhiann