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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  |
| A poem about my mother, how she didn't protect me from being sexually abused and how I am to break the cycle. Break the Cycle I struggle daily with who I am, because of who you were. You never were a mother, that I know for sure. You never loved me like you should, I felt so unlovable. How can I attract a man when insided I’m not full? You made my life a living hell, you scarred me deep inside. All my life I’ve lived with pain, as part of be has died. You said you tried, you did your best, with tools you never had. I understand your own abuse, at the hands of your own dad. I know you couldn’t protect me, so I had to suffer too. You couldn’t even say to me, those words “I love you”. Though the damage has been done, and you are now deceased. I’m here to break the cycle, this abuse will not repeat. WRITTEN BY: KYM ERICKSON 12/18/11 |
| A poem I wrote about our struggling economy. Will things ever change? Shattered Dreams An economy that’s broken, people in despair. Do we have a government that really truly cares? Unemployment at its highest, people losing homes. Families living on the streets and children all alone. Not enough food to eat, businesses going broke. People living in their cars, it gets really hard to cope. A future so uncertain, people feeling scared. Is it really possible, that this can be repaired? I hope and pray every day, for all of those in need. That despite this bad economy, there’s still hope to succeed. WRITTEN BY: KYM ERICKSON 12/15/11 |
| The Cutting Edge Come on George, what’s up with you? You’re laughing in court, and turning blue. Something’s really funny, for you to act this way. Share it with all of us who stand before you today. I know what you did now, you cut a big, old fart. I knew that I heard it right from the very start. Laugh all you want, it’s not funny to me. From where I’m standing, I can hardly breathe. If you keep on laughing, you’ll fart even more, And send me directly, out this court room door. Stop squirming in your seat, with your little boy giggles. I can see what you’re doing, you’re sending smoke signals. So spare me the details, and abolish this smell. This is one story, I cannot wait to tell. WRITTEN BY: KYM ERICKSON 12/11/11 PICTURE PROMPT |
| My dad's xmas party went well except I was in such a bad mood and my brother was getting on my nerves. I felt really angry. I didn't want to smile or anything. I finally got out of there at about 8:35 pm. and felt much relief in the morning when I woke up today. Too much stress. Xmas just wasn't xmas this year. My bipolar does not do well under some much stress plus call the stimulus that was around the place. I don't know if I was angry because it might be my brother's last xmas or it just brought up my own angry issues about xmas. I do this for my dad and nothing else. Plus last year I was high and didn't have to deal with all this stuff. This year I was sober and continue on my road of sobriety. |
| I had my hand at writing some erotic poems today. I don't know how good they are, but I had fun writing them. My dad is having his annual xmas party this weekend. Should be interesting as always when the ex-husband shows up drinking and all. YUK! At least I get to see my son. My ex-boyfriend came by today. The "dealer" I stood my ground, I did not use and don't plan on it. For him to use in front of me is pretty insensitive. Other than that I am doing really well with my meetings and addiction. Except I had someone from my meeting come onto me sexually. Can't guys just keep sex of their mind for one second? |
| For all those parents out there who have teenagers, this might be a good poem for them; Peer Pressure A troubled teen in crisis who’s dazed and all confused. She’s alone in her own world depressed and feeling blue. She says she is a princess by the tiara that she wears. Deep inside she’s lying thinking no one really cares. She brings about attention by the way she likes to dress. It’s how she shows her feelings for words she can’t express. A troubled teen with an attitude too scared to ask for help. Too immature to understand that she can help herself. She wants to be accepted by her most important peers. She needs to feel that she belongs to survive her teenage years. She looks inside for answers as to whom she might become. Feeling awkward in her skin she can’t wait for school to be done. Decisions guided by her peers ignoring when it’s wrong. A follower or a leader? either way she must be strong. Peer pressure can be most difficult when the subject is about sex. Drugs and alcohol are pressures too and should always be addressed. Being a teenager is hard work it’s a wonder she makes it through. With love and support all year round she’ll do the best she can do. WRITTEN BY: KYM ERICKSON 12/19/10, 4/21/11, 4/25/11, 5/1/11, 7/24/11, 8/1/11 |
| I have 107 days clean and sober. I think that's great. I'm still going to NA meetings and getting comfortable. Kinda looking for a sponsor, but not quite ready yet. I must say I am bored though and boredom, in the past, has gotten me in trouble. My brother has had a few good days, but minor task are extremely difficult for him. |
| I wrote this poem My Best Friend is Gay and I have not received one rating on it. Is it because of the subject matter? You decide for yourselves. My Best Friend is Gay I have something to tell you but I’m afraid what you will say. You’re someone I look up too in a very special way. I’m afraid you will get angry then hurt my feelings too. I guess I’ll just say it my best friend “I love you.” Do not say too much right now just let it all sink in. No matter what the answer is, I feel it’s still a win. Your friendship mean a lot to me I wouldn’t trade it for the world. Right now I was just thinking that I could be your girl. We are always here together in a good and special way. Wouldn't it be better though if we were a couple everyday? I’m listening for your answer but you said it couldn’t be. You liked the way we were it had nothing to do with me. You said you had a secret and it was time that I found out. You weren’t straight, you were gay you knew, without a doubt. Shocked in my embarrassment I didn’t know what to say. Best friends don’t keep secrets especially to say you’re gay. Things were never quite the same from that very moment on. My feelings had to go away I knew I must be strong. Our friendship slowly slipped away he found a boyfriend too. Maybe he’ll come back around when their relationship is through. I miss my best friend very much and accept him nonetheless. He will always be my friend even if he’s not my best. |
| Thank God the Thanksgiving holiday is over with. It was very trying with my brother's Dementia. I have just isolated myself the past couple of days just to absorb it all in. I wrote a poem called The Pain of Dementia to express my feelings after the Thanksgiving holiday. The Pain of Dementia My brother is slowly slipping Disappearing before my eyes. He is living with Dementia and that makes me want to cry. I’m not sure how to help him. Just love him the best I can. Get angry at the Dementia, for he doesn’t understand. I pray my brother gets the help, that he desperately needs. I will be here for him always. Anyway to help him succeed. I’m thankful he has found God. Who will guide him through this time. God knows his heart and understands, this is a hill he must climb. No matter where we go from here or how grueling it becomes. I’ll be here for him always until this battle’s won. Hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving |
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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.
