Delicate Melody is designed to improve the lives of others through sharing the experience, strength, and hope of someone in recovery. Delicate Melody started out as a photoblog, but when I was released from a rehabilitation center, I decided to make blogging my new form of “cheap therapy,” as MereWisdom (dad) puts it. Ultimately, Delicate Melody contains my memories and whatever I’m going through in search for inspiration and help others through helping myself, because working with others (in whatever way we can) is what keeps us sober!

Delicate Melody is also designed to be about my music in recovery. My music has changed a lot as I change and like my tagline says: Music washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life. Every day, we do things we don’t want to and trudge on through life. Work, school, etc. etc. Music, I believe, is the ultimate reliever. No matter what kind of day you’ve had, one can always sit back and relax to his or her favorite music. It’s the ultimate American past time. Creating music, however, is something all together different. When I play with a group whether it’s just a garage band or a full symphony, I feel a part of. Everything that happened that day melts away as I make music.

I’ve never known a musician who regretted being one. Whatever deceptions life may have in store for you, music itself is not going to let you down.
- Virgil Thompson

Feeling like we belong somewhere is the most important feeling we as humans can feel. God created us to love and to thrive. A lot of the books in the Bible were written as songs, as means of worship. I was writing an editorial for Journalism at school the other day and I wrote about music’s capability to brainwash. What we feed our subconscious thoughts can determine the outlook of a person. I’ll post that later, once it’s graded and I feel it’s good enough. The point is that for me music is how I keep myself sane in the insanity of the world.

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I was once living on the streets and I had no other way to support my habit than to go sell my body. It’s a degrading thing to do, and today I still can’t seem to forgive myself. Yesterday I cried throughout the meeting because all I could think about was how I’ll never belong because of what I was and what I’ve been through. How wrong was I? I’m sitting in a group full of women who in one way or another, been through what I’ve been through and I was completely isolated by my own mechanisms. One thing that a woman shared with me is this: Isolation leads to fear, fear leads to anger, and anger leads back to our old ways like drinking, drugging, cutting, overeating, starving ourselves, and so on and so forth.

I really liked this because ultimately, I think that’s why I relapsed after being dry for thirteen months. I isolated like no other and even had people tell me it was to the point to where it was a character defect. Of course, I shut down and wouldn’t speak to them EVER again after that, because they hurt my feelings. It’s so true, though… My isolation in the past led to my fear of never being wanted. This made me angry because I was mad at myself for isolating and putting myself in the position to not be wanted. I eventually used again and repeating the alcoholic/addict cycle.

Another woman told me something else that I really related to and latched on to. I have eating issues. I either starve myself, or I’ll overeat and either feel disgusting or make myself throw it up. Lately I’ve been eating a LOT, and just not bother to throw it up. I’ve tried a couple times in all honesty, but it wasn’t satifying. Then one of the women told me I was overeating as a defense mechanism. I’ve gained 60lbs. since I quit smoking crack and now? I hide behind my weight, hoping no one will look at me yet at the same time craving that old attention. It’s a lose-lose situation. I’ve gained weight and am now unhealthy, I don’t want to be looked at, yet I still am. Go figure… I guess that’s just the way the world works., People will look, people will judge, and people will come to their own conclusions. Whether I’m an ugly duckiling or a beautiful swan doesn’t matter to other people. What matters is what I think of myself.

In the meeting yesterday, we also talked about success. One of the reasons I was crying was because I have been successful, but I feel like it’s not recognized. I’m off the streets, I have food to eat, I’m getting an education on IMPORTANT things, not the street life and gang banging knowledge. I don’t sell myself short, and I make people deserve waht they get from me. That’s a blessing. Yet, yesterday I felt so sad because I wasn’t recognized. Granted, I was in a meeting where the women don’t really know me on a personal level, I still wanted that recognition.

“Selfishness, self-centeredness. That, we thought, was the root of all our troubles.” is what the big book says. Maybe if I let these wonderful people in and become a part of my life, I’d feel recognized. But I think the important thing I learned last night is this: I was being selfish. “What about me?” I thought, “Why do all these people have such great things to be said about them and I don’t? Aren’t I special too?” I am. I just didn’t think about that at the time. Someone told me I was taking the aphorism, “Think, think, think” too literal. Really, the aphorism is meant to say: Think about something once, think about it twice, maybe even think about it a third time and then just STOP. That hit the nail on the head for me. I love to sit on my pity pot. I used to say I sat on it SO much that it was embellished with all my personal keepsakes, jewels, fur, whatever. The point I was trynig to get across was that I sat on it SO much, it had become my natural state. Yesterday, I feel into my old ways.

What did I do? I talked to my sponsor, I talked to other SOBER women in the program, and I got over myself. I got into the solution instead of wallowing in the problem. I have an appointment next Wednesday for the doctor to see if I need surgery again, and I asked a woman to go with me that’s very dear to me. She’s been through the same things as I have and knows where I’m coming from. Although, I’d love to think that’s RARE, it’s really not… If I sat in a group of women in sobriety and point blank said, “I smoked crack, I sold my body for it, and now I’m living with the consequences,” they’d all probably relate. THAT right there, is the beauty of alcoholics anonymous as well as narcotics anonymous.

Today, I try to live in the solution. A lot of the time I need reminders to stay there and it’s hard. But I’ve come so far for being where I was at. Most people can’t get out. It’s too hard for them. Today, I consider myself a survivor. I’m a strong, beautiful woman and I need to recognize that MYSELf more often…

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The boy I was so anxious, nervous, and scared to see did end up coming back to school yesterday. I had a LOT of feelings, and it’s amazing how feelings can change from bad to good. When I first saw him, I walked right past him. He was in an administrator’s office and didn’t see me. I saw him again around lunch and I called him over, which was exactly what I said I would not do. I talked to him and asked him how he was doing and he gave me a HUGE hug. Afterwards, I felt like I had quite literally relapsed. I was confused as to why I felt that way – I felt a sense of loss.

What we had can never be again merely because I don’t want to be that same person again, and that’s my choice. Now I face the consequence like there are to every choice that every person makes. We’ve had a lot of memories and that will never change. But what can change is how I handle myself and how handle being around him. I hung out with him a little today and discovered he was still smoking marijuana. I realized that some things change, and some things don’t. After that realization, I thought, “Well, maybe this relationship isn’t meant to end if he’s back in my life.” And today, I mean relationship as friendship, not a physical, sexual relationship. Then I had the master idea to invite him to an AA meeting. We connected on a level today where we both really related to coming back to school after being gone for a while and no one really wants to be around him or me because of our past. That kind of hit me hard.

Then I wondered about how I’ve been doing as far as friends. I still have some old friends I still talk to and hang around even though they’ve seen me use. Even though they never used with me, they can still see a change in me. That’s comforting. Then I wondered how on Earth can I have all these awesome friends — Where did I meet all of these people that are with me today?!?! The answer was recovery. Not necessarily all my friends are from recovery, but most of the ones that still stick around are. That’s when I thought, “He was in the EXACT same position as me a week ago. What can I do to help him?” And that was when I realized I could share my recovery and knowledge with him. In AA, we talk about sharing our experience, strength and hope. Because I’ve been through so much and am now on the other side of it, I can work with others and help other people.

I have yet to actually invite him to a meeting, but after school, I told the boy that I had to talk to him and to give me a call after school. He hasn’t yet, and I don’t know if he will, but if he does, I’ll be here. All I can do is try, for you can lead the “horse” to the water, but there’s no way you can make him drink (my latest aphorism for the day).

I spent a lot of the day reminiscing about all the things he and I have been through. I remember the night he called me around 2 or 3 am, telling me he had just told his mom he was addicted to meth He was crying and I still remember his exact words, “Victoria, I need you.” Granted he might not still feel the same way about me (or I do about him), I still want to be there for him like I was before… Just without the drugs and other risky choices. Whether that’s my compassion for the human race, or me still wanting to hold onto the last little strand of our friendship, I have no idea. I do, however, think it’s for the greater good. Not just for me, but also for him. I realize today, that I can be there for people without getting extremely involved. I want to help and if he declines, I know that through God I WILL get through this, even if I do have to make it clear that we can’t speak to each other anymore.

I went to a meeting last night and got everything off my chest about him and how I felt like i had relapsed maybe not in drugs, but in old behaviours.. Now I realize that God can pull us through anything and bring us to the other side. I journalled a lot about the situation yesterday and even talked to my sponsor about it. I’ve decided to only keep our friendship at school, unless he wishes to attend an AA meeting with me. All in all, I’m here for him if he wants recovery and sobriety. The Victoria that he knew is no longer a part of me and I refuse to let that girl back in my life. I know that everything works out for the best according to God’s will and granted MY will says that I should be happy in ALL situations, I have to learn that some things don’t go the way we wish they would.

Today, that’s okay with me.

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For most self-injurers, it’s not about “attention,” it’s about feelings. Granted it might have started out as attention-seeking, self-injury is extremely addicting. I’ve done drugs, and I am a drug addict. However, I think I would have to say that self-injury was harder for me to overcome than my crack/cocaine addiction. I started self-injuring at the age of seven. I am now seventeen and it’s been eight months since I have self-harmed – the longest stretch of time I’ve ever gone free of self-injury. For me, it started as attention. I always had a low self-esteem and the constant thought that no one noticed or cared. So when I was seven, I started scratching my arms raw at the dinner table.

No one said anything until I was eleven or twelve. That was when it got bad. At age eleven, I started experimenting with box-cutters (X-acto blades) and it was no longer about attention. Very quickly, my experimentation lead into an addiction. I was no longer self-harming because I wanted people to see me, it was now all about how I dealt with myself and coped.

When I was twelve, I moved to self-injuring razorblades. By this time, I was also using drugs – specifically marijuana and pills. Although I wasn’t using drugs daily quite yet, I was self-harming on several occasions per day, every day. It got really bad. But not only was it bad for myself, I was also harming my parents, my brother, my family, and my friends in ways I couldn’t fathom until I finally stopped. I had several people try to tell me this, but at the time all I could do was scoff at them.

When I was thirteen, I had my first suicide attempt through self-injury. It happened because not only did I have one person in my life constantly telling me to do it (he was kind of abusive), but I had also found out my parents were going through with a divorce. I remember thinking, “Well, that’s great. Just add one more thing to our broken home…” My father ended up taking me to the ER, I received stitches, and went on my way.

My self-harm progressed for three more years. In that course of three years, I lived through another suicide attempt at sixteen and I accumulated scar after scar. In those three years, I also went in and out of psychiatric wards for my self-harm and drug usage. I even went to a self-injury specific program in Denton, Texas called UBH. Through all the programs and all the help I tried to get, I still continued to self-injury. Maybe it was because I wasn’t ready yet and still had to hit a bottom, but I really don’t know. Some things are just left the unknown, I suppose.

However, the point is that I’m ready now. I spent the last eleven months locked up in both a Juvenile Detention Center and a nine month rehab. In fact, my first month and a half in rehab, I was STILL self-harming. Eventually, I started really getting into God at church programs we had there at the rehab. I also threw myself into my recovery and came to the conclusion that I don’t ever want to be that person I used to be.

I read one of the comments on my dad’s blog entry about my self-harm.

I want to say from a personal perspective, as an adult who was there – we get beyond it. We grow up and move on … It passes. One day, maybe like me she’ll wake up and wonder who that person was, that she was, who did that to herself.
– Joely Black

And that really hit be, because one of the biggest things I think about recently is: “Why did I have to go through all that CRAP to get to where I am today?” Really though, I believe that if I hadn’t gone through all these trials and tribulations in life, I would be of no help. I would have no insight, no experience, strength or hope. Today I can say I’m grateful that I went through the battle of self-harm, because now that I’m on the other side, I pray all I can do is help others fighting the same battle.

Today, I can sit down and express my feelings whereas in the past, the only feelings I had were the physical feelings of pain. It took a very long time for me to be able to say all this, but now I think it’s my time to give back. I went through it, I’ve been there, I’ve done that, and now I can help.

The hardest thing I’ve had to learn how to do is to sit down and feel my feelings. I wrote yesterday in a blog post that Morrie from a book called Tuesdays With Morrie about detaching from our feelings, and I had a long conversation with Margaret about detaching from our feelings. Not only was in nice to connect with someone who’s read Tuesdays With Morrie, but to also connect on an insightful level.

We talked about the process of feeling our feelings, and then just letting them go. It’s a lot easier said than done, but once practiced it becomes a lot easier. I had a lot of time to practice being locked up for eleven months and I’ve found that fully relying on God has been the best medicine to heal myself, for refraining from any addiction is NOT based on willpower, but God-power. Again, this is indeed easier said than done; however, once practiced it becomes a lot easier.

This blog post was very difficult for me to write because I haven’t looked at where I’ve come from to what I am in quite a while. It was hard for me to express and open up to everything. However, my only prayer is to be that I can help someone else that’s been through what I have. Well, I hope this helps, and if it does it’s all worth the while.

It’s your move to make.

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