I still don’t know who I am any more than I did a year ago. I just know that I’m not fucking up my life anymore with drinking. I have stripped myself down countless times so far on this journey, and I still don’t know what is underneath. Delayed by trying on new colors that just don’t feel like me. Whose hair is this? Whose clothes are these? Whose angry voice is this? What do I want, what do I need, what do I like? Why can’t I just feel good about myself? I feel more insecure as ever. What if he does not like me this way? It’s not a matter of like, it is necessity. What’s next? Feeling so unsure. Fully sure I should continue on this path. But I don’t know who I am still. Perhaps it will take many years. Perhaps I will never know. Perhaps I should stop worrying if people like my latest costume and just allow the transformation to take place. The show must go on. Do I like my costumes? I am afraid of what is underneath. Perhaps this is why I used alcohol or drugs all these years, to get away from that, cause I don’t know it. And it’s the end of the road, whatever is underneath is it, no refunds, no do overs. That’s it. And that’s scary. I am afraid to lift another veil. Maybe I will stay here for a while. Maybe I will find myself coming full circle into who I always was minus the addictive part of me. Minus the self destructive part of me.
UN Agendas # 2 - A Poem by M.N. Hopkins
3 days ago