Kk's Poetry Page

CIRCUMSTANCE (S)….. Is probably a more fitting word than life. I
believe the life that you will live completely depends on your
circumstance (s).

Webster's dictionary defines Circumstance(s) as- "A condition or fact
attending an event and having some bearing on it; a determining or
modifying factor, A condition or fact that determines or must be
considered in the determining of a course of action. Circumstance-To
place in particular circumstances or conditions; situate.

Living with depression, mental illness, drug dependency or physical
aliments is not living. Or is it? Life may have a dictionary and
scientific definition but what Is your definition ? Can anyone truly
define what a NORMAL life is? What may be living to you is not living
to your neighbors, your co-workers or your friends. Many people suffer from
depressions, chronic pain and addiction. The technical term for this
is "dually diagnosed". What an awful way to describe yourself.
Depression, Circumstances beyond your control. I have Chronic pain (due to
fybromyalgia, irritable bowel syndrome and severe endometreosis) once
again are circumstances beyond my control. Many addiction thrive on
depression and chronic pain.

 For the past 33 years I have questioned my life. Why am I here.? What
is my purpose? Why me? What did I do wrong? Why does "GOD" hate me?
Why am I different than everyone else? Every time I thought life was
good and I was going to be alright a tragedy was waiting around the
corner .


Having chronic pain and depression were not choices given to me. They
are my circumstances . Those same factors are reasons that an addict may pick up for the first time.

According to AAPA (American Academy of Physician Assistants) thedefine addiction as follows:

"Addiction": - is a primary, chronic, neurological disease, with
GENETIC, psychosocial, and environmental factors influencing its
development and manifestations. It is characterized by behaviors that
include one or more of the following: impaired control over drug use,
compulsive use, continued use despite harm, and craving.

I am not making excuses for anyones addictions.  I realize that you have
the choice to pick up for that first time.  I have to wonder if
genetics, psychosocial and environmental  factors  were different
would I have picked up? I believe we all some form of an addictive
behavior however, I believe your circumstances do affect those
behaviors and your choices . You do have choices to make. What you
decide to do is  going to be based upon what you know - your
circumstances.

After years of suffering and self destructive decisions  I was led to
the point that I felt I could not go on one more day. People told me
that there was no more life in my eyes. I was living yet I was dead.
Drugs, drugs and more drugs numbed me to the point of complete
emptiness. I had nothing to look forward to and memories weren't
enough. The pain and depression seemed to outweigh any joy. My prayers
asking GOD to  "Give me strength" changed into me  begging "GOD" just to end it
all. I remember the day perfectly I decided enough was enough I was
going to take control of my life and end it all. I was not going to
going to live in pain (physically or mentally) one more day. I could
not see a future and I was tired of being a prisoner in my on home and
body. For the next few days I secretly devised "THE PLAN". I was going
to take some pills sit in the garage turn on the car and go to sleep .
There would be No more pain, no more sadness no more drugs. That's the
day the doll house broke.

My husband and I had an argument when he turned around he knocked the
doll house off the dresser. At that very moment my entire life
replayed in my mind. As I look back on that moment no I know realize
that The doll house breaking was "GODS" way of intervening . He
finally answered me.

Twenty years earlier The doll house was given to me by my older
brother Steven. Three years later he died a horrific death, they say
it was of his own choice. To this day that is still questionable. As
any young girl I lived the American dream through my doll house. The
perfect family with a Mother, Father, Brother, Sister and a little
baby. Let's not forget the dog Sheba. There was never any sadness in
this house. We called that the "white picket fence dream". As I grew
into my pre- teen years I decided I was to grown for the house. My
mother wrapped the house and stored it in the attic.

Life continued and as the years past so did the memories of the doll
house. When my mother felt my life was finally stable and I had a
little girl of my own ( my fiancés daughter) she went into the attic
and brought down the doll house. As my mother unwrapped the doll house
my little girls mouth dropped an her eyes widened. My heart filled
with joy and sorrow. Seeing her amazement  brought me back to the day
my brother gave me the house. When he brought it home my Mother and I
just  looked at each other . We could not believe that he actually had
it painted bright blue and hot pink. What was he thinking? The truth
of the matter he was also an addict and suffered from depression as
well. Does Genetics come to your mind? Changing the colors was not
even an option. It was perfect just the way  it was.

My mother and I explained the sentimental value of the house to my
step-daughter. Once we got the doll house home I asked  her if she
would like to re-paint the house. She told me she wanted it just like
it was when I was a little girl. At the time I was so proud and
honored. As happy as I was that she felt that way I am more thankful
that the house broke. The doll house was haunted with my ghost and my
memories. The closets were cluttered with my secrets and my pain.
Within that bright blue and hot pink house was a story of a young girl
with an "American Dream" that was shattered to pieces.