Confessions of a Broken Heart, Zine Sample

Page 1

By: anonymous



The war fought inside my head Everyday I wake up with the thought of using. I contemplate whether should get high or go to work . It’s a never ending battle that I keep in my head. I typically get up and go to work but ALWAYS, no matter which way I walk from the bus I end up walking past where the U-District needle exchange (in Seattle). I catch myself checking to see if it’s the day its open or not. Throughout the day I end up asking myself, is it really worth it? Then I feel Haylie kick inside me. And I remember why I got sober. And my motivation to stay sober. Then those thoughts of using trickle away. My sobriety is something I have to work at everyday, even after these hard 7 months. I have to remind myself everyday that I am blessed to be alive, and to be granted this second chance ( well I guess 4th chance) at life. I have many opportunities open to myself, but only I can grant them. My life would not be the way it is today if I was not sober. To be honest, I probably wouldn’t be alive right now to be able to write this. After 3 overdoses and a heart attack in a short 2.5 month span, to be granted another chance at life is truly a blessing. I wouldn’t be able to do it with out my family, my boyfriend, his family and my amazing daughter growing inside of me. I may still have to fight the war inside my head everyday– but I ALWAYS win, not my addiction. Thanks to my sobriety!


????QUESTIONS???? What gives him the right to feel he deserves to go get high just because he passed his UA? What makes him feel I just wont care? Why am I or Haylie not important enough or worth being sober for? Why does he have such a effect on my emotions? Why do I love him so much? Why can’t I be number 1 again? Why do people always leave? Why does it seem that I am not worthy enough of love? Why do I have to be an Addict? Why does love hurt so much? Why the hell did that have to happen? Why the hell did that have to hurt so much? Why does my family hate me? Why can’t I hear those 3 little words form any one? Why do people always tell me to “ Just get over it” or “Grow up”? Why can’t I just get over it? Why can’t she just be my mom? Why did my dad say crying was for the weak? Why do I cry so much? Why do we have to die? Why do we have to live? Why can’t I just have my life back?


Honey Bear I don’t regret being with him or even loving him as much as I do. Just the fact that I gave him all of me ( all those he knows about me) and I can’t get it back. I think it’s the reason why I love him so much. He understands me and I needed that. I just didn’t need the pain that followed. That pain is breaking my heart every time I see him, talk to him or wait long hours with no call or text. The pain of not knowing if he is alive or dead at any given moment. Yet I continue to let it happen. He promised me so much and took it all away so fast. Always and forever, he said. He created a family but left in one fatal swoop. I have never felt more abandoned, scared, alone. We both wanted it so bad, but it was just another empty promise. My life was filled with empty promises from him. I feel so broken and confused. I can’t believe I let someone have that much control over me. That’s what the power of love has on you. You don’t ever choose who you love, it always chooses you. And I always seem to get the ones who break me. He seemed so perfect just a year ago. So loving and caring.. I never would have known this would happen. But I know it’s not me. It’s just another way that addiction seems to ruin everything good that comes into my life. Or maybe it wasn’t good. Maybe it’s just like everyone said and I was just too naïve to see it. All I know is that I am in love with an addict. An addict that can’t seem to show me love or anything for that matter. At the end of the day I remember that I get to keep one good piece of him. A piece that is all mine and can never be taken away. A piece of the good times to remember and hopefully one day get back to . A place that was all about the love we have for each other.



House on 18th street

No matter how the day went I could always go to this place and feel warmth. After 7 years of being away, it was still home... and to this day even tho no one in my family lives there— it is still my home. A home that has history as you peel back the layers of paint in each room. Memories in every square inch of the property. That house built who I am today. The tree in the front yard was planted the day I was born and my first cat is buried beneath it. The little back bedroom was once my mothers but later occupied by me. This house reminds me of a time when my family was happy. I still to this day catch myself sitting across the street, day dreaming about the happy past. This house was a HOME. A place where I remember my mom at her best. The front yard had tall beautiful flowers, soft green grass and kids playing. The tree house was the place Madison, Cody and I would spend long summer days. Warm laughter from within the home. A safe place I wish was still mine.


May 25, 2011 May 25, 2011. I don’t remember much about that day but what I do remember changed my life forever. I was a pretty heavy Heroin user back then. I started in March 2011. All I remember is loving it. Loving the feeling of escape, and the feeling that my boyfriend will probably love me more. That one shot made my world spin out of control. So out of control that nothing else mattered. Not my family, my friends or even myself. As each day passed, I got worse and worse as I spiraled into the addiction. May 24 I did something I never thought I would do. I took something from someone I love very much. I pawned it and got a bunch of money and bought a ton of dope. Throughout that day I felt some dull chest pains but didn’t really think anything of it since this has happened before. But this time there was something wrong and I would soon figure it out. That night I took a pretty big shot and woke up at 1:30 AM with the most excruciating pain I have ever felt. I was freaking out and had no idea what was wrong with me. I could barley move but I woke up my boyfriend not knowing what to do. He called 911 and the paramedics came. They took my blood pressure and did an EKG. They told me everything was fine and there was nothing wrong with me. I had to yell at them to take me to the ER since they didn’t see the point. When I finally got there, they did test after test. I was hooked up to a ton of wires like jungle vines holding me down. During this time in the ER I was really loopy and fading in and out. At one point I didn’t even remember why I was there. They had to ultrasound my arm to find a vein for the IV they wanted me to have for fluids and so they could take blood to run more tests. They gave me Nitroglycerin, morphine and something else I think. But nothing made the pain go away. After a few hours in the ER the doctor came in and told me I was having a heart attack, and that I had Myocarditis. He explained to me that I had an infection in the lining in my heart and they weren’t quite sure where it came from but that it probably came from what the Heroin was cut with. They admitted me into the hospital to the cardiac ward. I saw a cardiologist and a physician. I was put on a ton of antibiotics to try to clear the infection away. The first day was the hardest. I had to call my Grandmother and tell her where


I was and what happened. I was embarrassed and ashamed with everything that happened. And she didn’t help with making anything better. I get that she was mad but I mean come on I was in the hospital and had almost died... she didn’t have to yell at me so much. She told me I could either go to treatment or be homeless. So I didn’t really feel like I had much of a choice in the matter. The first night kind of went like the night before. I woke up about the same time in the dame amount of pain. The nurses were on break so the guy that came in didn’t really know what to do to help me. I was screaming and tossing with all the pain… I really don’t know how my boyfriend was sleeping through all my noise. HAHA Finally after the nurse gave me something for the pain I was able to pass out. That next morning I had to get an echocardiogram and other tests done. Let me tell you… when you’re in that much pain sitting still is pretty much not an option and that’s exactly what I had to do. I had my blood drawn every two hours to see if the infection was getting better or worse. And to see if they needed to up or lower my antibiotics. I was in the hospital for 3 days. That was the longest 3 days of my life. I ended up going to treatment and I honestly loved it. If only that would have kept me sober. I really thought after having a heart attack at 19 would have done it. But I am to hard headed. Once I was told that my heart was healed, I relapsed very shortly after. But that only lasted about a month till I found out I was pregnant. I was lucky to be given a second chance; well I guess it would be a fourth chance. I have had 3 overdoses and now this in a short 2.5 months. Going through all that may not have kept me sober then but it is definitely keeping me sober now. That and the fact of my daughter growing inside of me. I went through hell and back literally, in such a short amount of time. But I wouldn’t change any of it. It has made me who I am today and it has made me cherish my life for once. I am meant to be here for some reason and it’s not my time to go, other wise I would have been taken. This is only a small little part of my story… and I hope it has made some kind of impact on you. Whether it is to start getting sober, staying sober or to never want to do drugs. And if it doesn’t do anything at all, well at least you read it and I was heard.


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