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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  |
| I've got all my poems together for my poetry book, but I have an apple computer and I don't know if I can transfer them to msword or if I need a program. My recovery is going great. Working on the fourth step and resentments. I have a lot of those. the fourth step is suppose to be really freeing. so I'm hopeful. I'm really into people being in the solution not the problem. I don't want no chaos in my life. |
| Here's a xmas poem I wrote recently just so xmas will not be forgotten and the great feelings that can come with it, Memories Not Forgotten ☃☃☃ Stopped by my grandpa’s house, With present all in tow. We had our winter clothes on, For the weather was 10 below. We yelled for grandpa at the door, Then screamed his name real loud. He was happy we were there, I could tell that he was proud. We all appeared quite happy, To be united as a family. Christmas cheer was all around, It was a sight you had to see. No matter how old you are, You can always have some fun. Christmas is for everyone, It’s for the old and for the young. We opened presents one by one, and made memories along the way. I saw a star in grandpa’s eyes, As he watched us children play. When Christmas Day was over, and we all had said goodbye. Grandpa stood there at the door, With tears in both his eyes. He was happy we had come there, but sad to see us go. For he was missing grandma, Who died a year ago. |
| A poem I wrote when I was really depressed last year. I didn't go to a meeting today. Kinda burned out. also they don't want me reading my poems in the meeting. If I memorize them that's ok. I think that is bullshit. I've been doing it about once a month for the past 7 months, It's my program. I am still angry about it I keep thinking it's an attack on my poetry and really it's not. I need to get over this before I go back to a meeting or at least that meeting. Here's the poem: Window Pain Award Winner A window pane can often reflect, The unhappiness of a child. One who sits there staring, At the scenery for awhile. Her features look unsettled, and really hard to make out. Could that someone be me, Looking from the inside out? Detached from all my feelings, I close and lock the window. Isolate myself from others, So no one will ever know. I have no friends, just myself, and nothing left to give. I suffer in silence every day, and don’t always want to live. I’m forced to drown my sorrows, and sit alone there in the dark. Overwhelmed by my depression, I can’t focus where to start. Feeling rather vulnerable, My life’s one empty place. This window pane reminds me, Of things I cannot face. A past I can’t let go of, Steps too scared to take. A child who’s simply stuck in time, Because of her father’s mistakes. Until I or something changes, My reflection will be the same. Staring at me through the window, That’s why it’s called window pain. WRITTEN BY: KYM ERICKSON UPDATED 1/29/11, 2/14/11, 4/21/11, 5/10/11, 5/21/11, 5/28/11, 10/30/11, 3/21/12 |
| My recovery is going well and my public speaking is getting better. The group gave me an assignment to help me with my shyness in public speaking. So so far so good. Every day I still feel like I have to write at least one poem in order to purge my feelings. My relationship is God is getting closer and I am very grateful that I am clean today. 7 months Sunday!!! |
| The Magic of the White Rose White rose in its purity, Of moral and of good. Honorable and all worthy, Noble like it should. So clean and untainted, In life and in love. Pure just like an angel, Sent from God above. Fresh in all its newness, Wholesome and undefined. Innocent like a child, Who’s perfect by design. WRITTEN BY: KYM ERICKSON 3/16/12 I thought this poem was pretty cool |
| If there's any poem of mine that you read and like, please think about awarding me with an Awardicon. Merit badges are cool too. I have 22 merit badges and award icons and would like to know if my poems are influencing you, if their funny, scary, etc., so I can do better writing. You can do so by scrolling down. Thank you. |
| Have you ever thought about this? Assisted Suicide The doctor won’t assist me, I said I want to die. The pain that’s from my disease, Always makes me cry. The pain is overwhelming, It’s more than I can bare. No one wants to help me, No one really cares. I asked my family for help, They looked the other way. They told me I had no right, Suicide is not okay. I asked a few close friends, They told me I was ill. They couldn’t ease my suffering, A request they would not fill. My life is mine to live, So is it mine to take? What if there was life left, Would I be making a mistake? If no one’s there to help me, Should I take my life myself? or find a doctor to assist me, In killing my inner self? WRITTEN BY: KYM ERICKSON 3/15/12 |
| For all those who have found the love of your life this one's for you. You Saved Me You kissed my lips and saved me, You took my pain away. You held me in your arms, and told me you would stay. My heart was beating quickly, I knew we were not done. You touched my hand so softly, I knew you were the one. My feelings overcame me, My wish indeed came true. You’re someone special in my life, I’m definitely in love with you. You often saved me from myself, You helped me with my pain, You picked me up when I was down, and you never did complain. My heart belongs to only you, You’re my best friend and my man, You support me any way you can, You listen and understand. You’re someone special in my life, I wouldn’t trade you for the world. As long as you love me, I will always be your girl. WRITTEN BY: KYM ERICKSON 3/13/12 My recovery is going great. Feeling the peace. My thinking has changed I am starting to feel happy. |
| This is what recovery means to me: Recovery (acrostic) Restraining from all drugs, Exposing one’s own self. Compassion for where I come from, Obtaining necessary help. Victory is my conquest, Encouraging those like me. Realizing I’m not alone, Yearning to be free. WRITTEN BY: KYM ERICKSON 3/9/12 Everything is going well. Have had a few problems, but addressed them head-on. I've been in a lot of pain with my toe, hand and neck. |
| Just a little humor. Can you imagine this the next time you see a mannequin at the store. The Mannequin and the Thong I’m stiff and made of plastic, I’m always on display. My arms and legs come right off, and I think I might be gay. They dress me in these clothes, I do not want to wear. I must stand there half naked, Not always wearing hair. They put me in this thong, That shows off both my cheeks. The thong then starts cramming, Causing me to freak. I have to get it out of there, So I reach behind my back. Slowly pull the thong out, From cramping my own crack. I stand there looking pretty, but I also realize too. The thong has come back again, and there’s nothing I can do. It irritates me very much, How awful this does feel. Women like to wear these things, Are you serious, are they for real? WRITTEN BY: KYM ERICKSON 3/7/12 |
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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.
