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About my everyday life, my struggles with addiction, sexual abuse, bipolar and family |
A blog about my life and how I got through some serious issues in hopes for a better tomorrow  |
| Things are going so well, I don't have much to talk about. No chaos, no problems. I am just going to enjoy this time of peace. A Road to Travel Traveling down a dirt road With destination unknown. Trying to find my purpose So I will not be alone. Driving into nowhere Is a feat hard to explain. The wariness around me Unsure what is to gain. The road is leading somewhere I must trust and go along. The gifts I’m carrying with me Will help me to be strong. This dirt road may be long With a treasure at its end. If you will be there waiting I will have found myself a friend. WRITTEN BY: KYM ERICKSON 6/8/12 |
| The writer's block has been lifted, I can write again. Whenever I have something going on within myself I can't write. It's a God given talent that I am blessed with and very thankful. Tainted Love Tainted blood on a rose Dripping off the sides. A love that’s burned and wounded By all those tortured lies. Trust that’s broken, torn apart Beyond its own repair. A pain that’s bulging at the seams There’s nothing that compares. Empty promises, broken dreams A feeling of being alone. A tainted rose on the bed Reality of love is shown. Experiences and memories Of how it used to be. Is blown away just like the wind It’s dead to you and me. |
| The writer's block has been lifted, I can write again. Whenever I have something going on within myself I can't write. It's a God given talent that I am blessed with and very thankful. Tainted Love Tainted blood on a rose Dripping off the sides. A love that’s burned and wounded By all those tortured lies. Trust that’s broken, torn apart Beyond its own repair. A pain that’s bulging at the seams There’s nothing that compares. Empty promises, broken dreams A feeling of being alone. A tainted rose on the bed Reality of love is shown. Experiences and memories Of how it used to be. Is blown away just like the wind It’s dead to you and me. |
| The writer's block has been lifted, I can write again. Whenever I have something going on within myself I can't write. It's a God given talent that I am blessed with and very thankful. Tainted Love Tainted blood on a rose Dripping off the sides. A love that’s burned and wounded By all those tortured lies. Trust that’s broken, torn apart Beyond its own repair. A pain that’s bulging at the seams There’s nothing that compares. Empty promises, broken dreams A feeling of being alone. A tainted rose on the bed Reality of love is shown. Experiences and memories Of how it used to be. Is blown away just like the wind It’s dead to you and me. |
| I have been away because I cannot write right now, but I will be back soon when I am feeling better. |
| I'm finally able to write again. Yay. I was having some problems with religion and being an ex-catholic and christian beliefs, but I have worked it out and I am grateful for my God today. Some poems I wrote today: Paralyzed Depression’s in the dark window Portraying pain for me. Cutting off the life I know Like a legless amputee. WRITTEN BY: KYM ERICKSON 5/30/12 Tortured Life Depression's in the dark window With anger turned inside. Becomes an enemy of myself The death of a tortured life. WRITTEN BY: KYM ERICKSON 5/30/12 |
| I went to a funeral last Friday for a lady in our NA meeting who died suddenly. The funeral has just tripped me out. I wrote a poem and said it at the funeral. The funeral was a Jewish Service. At this funeral, they buried her right then and there. They lowered the casket into the ground and everyone was asked to pick up some of the dirt that was going to bury her, and throw it on the casket. I made sure I threw the dirt at her feet. I kinda felt like I was burying someone alive. It has traumatized me and I am really bothered by it. I also have some unresolved issues of my own mother's death 9 years ago. I wish I had been forewarned as to what was going to happen at this funeral I might have excused myself. Voices From Above I could barely stand to watch it but I simply had no choice. There to honor another soul I heard my mother’s voice. Grieving for my mother still Of a death 9 years ago. It all came rushing back to me and greeted me with hello. As my friend was buried I could feel my own heart break. For she was another person Who would never be awake. There place was now in heaven Where God needs them to be. I will miss them both very much From now to eternity. WRITTEN BY: KYM ERICKSON 5/27/12 |
| I've been recovering from the AA convention in Laughlin, Nv, which ended on Sunday. I took in a lot of information. Then Monday we found out the one of the ladies from our meeting, died. So we've been dealing with that. I haven't written but a poem or two, have had a bit of writer's block which I think is easing up today. I wrote a poem for the memorial service and I hope they like it. I will get back to you all in a few days if not sooner. |
| I am back from the AA convention in Laughlin, NV. It was an awesome experience. I attended several speaker meetings, marathon meeting I even got up and shared which is extremely hard for me. I am really glad I went and I got to know my sponsor on a deeper more personal level. I am very thankful for this experience. Even though I am with NA, the AA experience was just as good seems how I am doing my 12 steps both ways. Here is one of the poems I wrote while there. Reflections The breeze is gentle from the sky Like God’s hand upon my soul. Delicately touching me Trying to make me whole. The branches of the tree nearby Reflect my growth and change. No matter what the season is My life won’t be the same. Captured in my thoughts and dreams Is a new life I have found. I listen closely to the words and the message in the sound. Reflecting on the days gone by and the new self I’ve become. Tells me there is more to learn My journey here’s not done. These travels I have met with Are ones which I can mold. Giving back’s the answer For it’s worth the weight in gold. WRITTEN BY: KYM ERICKSON 5/19/12 How Perfect is the Rose How perfect is the rose When it blooms within the day. Petals fall to the ground In a special kind of way. The smell of pure elegance From a bud to being a rose. Open itself up to life As its love is their exposed. Captured for the beauty of The life that is anew. Give the gift to someone who Can say the words I love you. WRITTEN BY: KYM ERICKSON 5/19/12 |
| I will be away from my blob, going out of town, from Thursday 5/17 to sunday 5/20. Will return on 5/21 |
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created by God continue to light your way and blanket you with his loving warmth from the cold dark path of drugs and alcohol. You Are Awesome =) Take care.
cause I am.... but I relate to what this poem itself is saying. I wish I had an angel, someone to lean on, I guess you can say... but don't think I understood belief in angels et cetera... I guess I am just glad that even in creativity someone can understand what we go through--even if its just a creative fictional level.
