Dear [ ]

Never a moment in most of my life (sober or not) have I felt so lost for words yet full of emotion. This mix has my level of uncomfortability at a rapid high where I just want to stop writing, but I reluctantly push on.
Yes, I suffer from alcoholism and I am in my third and highest level of treatment.  I am well aware how life has been set awry by my addiction and for that I'm sorry. But even before I could even spell the word addiction or alcoholism life with you has been war. A losing war to your constant judgement and criticism. I don't understand what is wrong with you? I'm ok with who I am but you refuse to allow me to remain ok with who I am. Why are you so focused on what I do whether right or wrong? Regardless you fail to support me in anything that you don't like as if it is you that is living it. I need for you to release me, I'm not you. I'm not in your womb. I am my own, not property of your ghosts or dreams.
The sad part for you is that I will run from you on my own if you chose to believe that you have any reign over my existence.  My plans don't revolve around you, but they don't have to experience your absence either.  My biggest fear is that you wish me to not succeed in sobriety so that I will always need you to rescue me. Finally I can say I feel safe in my environment of sobriety without you, and that is great. All you have to do at this point is listen, whether a second or an hour.
I never wanted your advice.

I see now why comfort is so important to me and why I yearn for it.
You were so protective over me that I never was allowed to rest in my own desires of what comfort is. You worked so hard to provide your idea of comfort while stripping me of mine to make it "ours". It took active measures to be comfortable at home, probably why I drank, and why I wished to never be home. It was not my comfort, it was yours. (8-7-18)

My Favorite Holiday To Hate

Elizabeth F. Jeudy CHRISTMAS: My narrative on my favortite holiday I’ve grown to hate. You are my gifts; I don’t need anything more than breath, but appreciation always woulld make me smile but I am willing to pass that on to those who are more than difficult to convince of their worth. That’s OK with me. When you are accepting at receiveing less because you’re already convincingly full of the non-tangebles, you accept the purposeful empty cards with whistful good wishes. You accept and say “Thank You for your thoughts”. While you have past due payements on adult responsibilities all to make sure the others in your life are pleased. My pleasure never mattered to me much, because it came not from my own selfish endeavors but from seeing those corny smiles from my family and friends. But I’m not being honest; the gifts I did receive were never what I requested when at long last asked “What would you like for Christmas?” I just accepted the last-minute thought-less gifts as at least something; at least I was a thought for just a moment. “No, take them and be grateful” was the constant speech I gave myself to appear merry and joyful. Those gifts to this day from a decade ago of dealing with this habit have remained in my closet untouched. I was always an earner, maybe a lull in times but when I was on, no one could stop me and I then looked forward to spend that little fortune on my clueless family to show some shallow grattitude of “LOOK WHAT I DID, LOOK WHAT I HAVE SPENT MY HARD HUSTLE MONEY ON JUST TO SHOW MY INKLING OF LOVE ON THIS HOLIDAY that I grown hate”. GOAL: Met- GOAL: Ignored. I am often not lonely but I will admit, these holidays will be a lonely set of joyless folly. I am so polite that these faux-kindness gifts and and Thank You’s are soaked up like well wishes often were, reminicent of War-Time propaganda; believing the best just to have something to believe in. I wished and prayed for recognition deeper than a summer rain puddle. Why doesn’t anyone get it? I smile so that you can smile back. I don’t frown so you can smile back, and force my smile for the same damn reason. God; I just want my smile to be organic, recognized, appreciated and pleasant to the eyes that matter. Please, I need a rescue from this nonesence holiday that breaks my bank account and subsequentially my heart. But after all it is Christmas, and all that Ho-Ho-Ho Jolly fun-time Opiate of December is abundantly annoying just knowing what is and has been essentially in store for me. So easy to swallow, so easy to succumb, so easy to smile. Merry Christmas.