Growing Pains

Truth be told, there are situations  where I’ve been far bolder than I should ever have been; mistakes wouldn’t have been made  if I were here and now, wiser, clearer and older. . As the smoke unfurls in my memory, the recollection of being utterly forward,  recklessly asking for a sample without intention of purchase,  the method of taunting and teasing, dangling of carrot while perusing, allowing Them to think They would achieve their means, while essentially I’d only be achieving mine. . It’s the trying time of youth where momentum determines behaviour as wild and uncouth and the answers on the platter are rowdy to sort through, vicious to separate from, and downright nasty to deal with— these choices, anything but heaven-sent. . A flirtatious goddess starving for perfection,
ingesting only chemicals,
poisoning my system,
breaking moral rules,  seeking affirmation, vibrant attention: . “Look at me, need me, want my affection,
take my hand, feel my presence.
Give me your time, your undivided attention,”—
recognition to the point I often put my safety dangerously on the line.

Not realising what was in store,
as nearly every morning, early,
I rolled up to my door,
the animosity of my house ran thick
but I didn’t see it;
I barely experienced it. . Oblivious to their upsets,  I continued to over-exercise, starve and shrink,
breaking rules like shattered boughs of trees,  and never did I allow their sanctions in.
I question myself now,
my selfishness at large,
it is the bravado of youth as well as illness that caused me, called me, to come undone.  . I taught my mind and body  that abundance and deprivation were the only answers, I lent myself to a land of little regret and lack of true circumspection. . I announced myself as things that I really was uncertain about, immersed myself in worlds thinking I understood more than I knew about. . During grand delusions of mental instability,
I became a ‘real estate agent’,
donning a self-made uniform really cemented the point.
If I wore a fur coat and a ‘shaman’s headdress’ fashioned from feathers,
that was it: I was everything and all in measure.  . It was the belief that mattered. . I became a trained skilled singer,
in the psych ward I strutted around in circles performing vocal exercises,
I had never had a singing lesson,
yet I knew my vocals were sheer perfection! . I told myself I could put on false charm,
I could pretend to be everything certain types would want
in order for them to be disarmed,
and achieve did I but with an empty soul;
they didn’t want me—
they wanted a woman completely out of control.  . The rising, discombobulating Mania, alongside the Psychosis borne of  chemical imbalances and substance abuse,
the inability to self-regulate,
the seeming stability in my life from another’s face. . Ah! The bravado of youth! The arrogance that comes with believing one determines all the rules! The dangers and damage done to those close and near when we don’t understand or know how our thoughts and actions can define… . The sadistic nature of fate when we understand we were headed for a date with the executioner who was of our own making; in the end, others did the saving. . When you’re lying in a ditch of your own determination, floundering further is not an option, to sink or swim, which is the answer? I don’t know how to continue without being a preacher…