I am "country strong" on Mother's Day.

I was watching the movie, “Country Strong,” and Beau says that Kelly Canter could not handle both fame and love (Sony Pictures, 2010). I wondered is this, ‘my fate?’ Is this why I have not stumbled upon someone to love me, for me? But what I can offer then? Or be a man’s trophy upon his arm. Or to be defeated by a façade which turns out to be again for recreational use? “Hmmmm, Is this my fate?”

I have felt closer to God than ever before, over the past few years. He has shown me that my greatest love cannot know me in that way, yet, because I took him for granted. “Is this my greatest vice?” I ask myself again.

The bike accident last week, the car accident. My grandfather gone. My mother going to a funeral for mother’s day. I struggle with friends who are not there for me, and others I do not have the trust with yet. I struggle with someone, God keeps from me.

I struggle with money. Then I live up to the public image while, I now struggle with alcoholism. I handle things on my own through mediation with my Farther. How hard it was last night letting Mother’s Day get to me, while relaxing and watching this very intense movie. I wanted to reach for the bottle of Jack, I harbor upon the top first shelf of my hanging bookcase separating my small efficiency kitchen from the main room of my very humble one-room studio apartment.

I wanted to call Chuck my best friend, whom I prayed to not exactly replace another friend. But, truth is the other friend is now getting married and has cut me off from his life living in his own imaginative world. He told his now fiancé, I wanted be in a relationship with him. You can gather I never did and still do not. However, I lay vast… by myself tormented and praying. I want the taste of the Jack in my mouth to relax me and remedy my problems. Then again, I know I cannot. How I urge to use! How I desire Jack to be my device of relaxation.

Then, I stopped because the defeat cannot be of my own making. Drinking till I cannot stop with gut-wrenching exposure to very high-risk behavior. I cannot transpose myself to the misery upon the taste of that bottle. I stopped.

I understood the character of Canter, someone once strong-dying to her own devices; she giving into her bad self-abusing habits (Sony Pictures, 2011).

Then again, I talk to ‘Chuckles’ and let all come out!?

He asks, “have you eaten?”

I say, “no!” As I try to push him away.

Then I say, “Yes, I have eaten well today. That is now, what it is. I haven’t written or painted in a while.”

He says, “Carry, you need to let it out!”

He says, “Maybe you should get back to yourself.”

Then my phone dies. I watch the rest of the movie. I remember the sadness I felt when I lost both grandparents, while going through puberty, lost my first love, my best friends all pushed me away, and I became a prisoner within my own world.

I remember the poem I first wrote, contemplating the horrors of death and trying to figure out, “why?” And then I became obsessed with the idea of death. it Just so happened, while I remember that summer watching an old series of, “ Dark Shadows,” (Dan Curtis Productions, 1966-1971) with my mother, I discovered the character of Barnabus Collins, and Elizabeth Collins, who were buried alive. Coincidentally, ‘Vicki’ on, “One Life to Live,” (ABC, 1993) was also experiencing the same story-line.

Comparatively, I felt almost like I was buried alive by the world who seeks to exploit and seek division in me.

I had no one: My mom working, my farther sick with epilepsy & his normal health problems. I remember this was the defining summer of my 14th year of existence. I began to transform and discover myself through writing and self-reflection.
Now, I draw back and understand the new premise for my existence through all the turmoil, I face with God: testing me in order to understand my future blessings.

I stop as I am about to fall asleep and remember the words I first wrote on paper……
I am drowning deep in my sleep…
…… in a coffin dead but alive.
Pouring aloud with ideas in my head.
No time for worry or sorrow.
Free from sickness and pain.
Just enough time to be Rushing free like a bee that just won’t die.
Fleeing endlessly, flying to another sky.
But again I lay a steel magnolia buried 10 degrees deep…..
Buried alive!

I added the last two lines, which I do not completely remember to describe how I feel, dealing with my new captivity from my disease of alcoholism. I can conquer alcoholism myself! Who is my sponsor? God, Jesus, Christ; and best friend, Chuck, who listen’s without repute. He gives me God’s grace as His vessel and to keep me away from harming self-defeat.

Now time to paint and self-reflection!