Drowned

When all you see is darkness
And you cannot find the light
When your peace escapes you
And nothing fits quite right

Somewhere deep within you
Is a child crying out
Seeking love and affirmation
But only getting doubt

She’s lived this way forever
Never feeling like enough
Seeking care and your compassion
Her lonely path was rough

You drowned that girl inside you
So you could not hear her cry
Never met her wants or needs
Or heard her question, “Why?”

Keep busy, stay distracted
Set all those thoughts aside
You felt it was successful
But all they did was hide

When she begged for answers
“What is wrong with me?”
You turned away, ignored her
So her pain you couldn’t see

Blocked her out completely
Continued through your day
Then each and every evening
You drowned her voice away

After years a wake up call
Helped you say ENOUGH!
To drop the crutch that kept her down
The first few steps were rough

But day by day it happened
You heard her start to share
Her hopes, her fears, her dreams
And she could feel you care

It was a long time coming
Still takes decisions every day
To make a choice, avoid the crutch
To turn and walk away

So today you just keep walking
On the path that set her free
For the little girl inside you
You and that little girl…are me
                                                                                                    

Origin story for this piece: For too many years I used ‘a crutch’ to shut down at the end of every day. Alcohol became the tool I used to stop the racing thoughts, quiet the yearnings for things I didn’t have, and just generally shut down at the end of every day. My ‘ni-night juice’ was a ritual used for years that I never missed. 
One day a confession was shared with me, someone with similar struggles had a close call that could have turned out very badly if not for the other person they live with. Thinking about what could have happened had I done that same thing without someone there to save me was the last push I needed to say enough. 
I’d been working on ‘controlling’ it, setting limits, etc., but I always ended up tossing those to the wayside. That day, I took what I had left in the bottle, dumped it down the drain, and leaned into stubbornness to not allow myself to buy more. I also didn’t tell anyone for weeks, because I was ashamed to admit I’d had a problem. It’s been four years and counting since that day. I eventually told a few close friends and then started sharing more comfortably with others. I know my way isn’t the solution for everyone, there are many paths to sobriety. This just happened to be the one that worked for me.

Easy? No. 
Eventually worth it? Yes.
Do I still wish for ‘just one’? Yes.

If you are struggling, I pray this story helps you. If you love someone who’s struggling, I hope this gives you insight.