The Pain of Letting Go

October 9, 2016 Leave a comment


I heard the word. I knew the meaning. I knew I’d have to deal with it sometimes.
Last time I had to deal with it, I knew nothing. My girlfriend left after a tumultuous one-year relationship. I was left alone in the country still new to me, with no family, no close friends, just people I knew from school I went to. So I had no idea what was hitting me and why wouldn’t it stop causing me pain. At the same time, continuing to drink heavily did help to relieve some pain, although next day I’d be dealing with grieving and hangover. Very questionable cure, no?

Eleven years later it came back.

Actually no, not so easy. The thing is grieving is not just when you lose a person. It could be leaving or been let go from job, being robbed, etc. For example, I had quite a bit of grieving time last year I knew I’ll have to be leaving my job in the workplace where, in different stages and positions, I spent 7.5 years. Although no one made me go, per se, the conditions and the atmosphere were worsening, and I had to look for a new job and then work at it part time, while still keeping the full time one. By the time my part time position turned into full time, and I quit first job it’s been two months. Those two months of doubting, fuming, clenching fists and mentally saying goodbyes, that helped a lot later on, because by the time I started the full time job at the new place, all the feeling of regret and loss and anger left me. I was serene with my departure and leaving people and things behind, and I was fully ready for what was waiting ahead for me.

But a year later there was another curve. That the one of which I originally said “11 years later, it came back.” Yes. My eight-year relationship with a lady with whom I was by then engaged, that journey was over. We started to grow apart from each other, I guess, stuck on certain things we couldn’t let go of and looking for different things that wouldn’t work for both of us. That’s a situation in a nutshell, explained in a very primitive manner. But however basic I described it, eight-year union, hell, this was one was three times longer than all my other relationships together. It would be fair to say that this break up will hurt me more than all the others put together. Or something similar to that.

This time I was sober for over a decade. I was no longer fired from jobs on a regular basis for being irresponsible. On contrary, people I worked with and for expressed gratitude for what I do. I went to my support meetings and chatted with people in recovery on a regular basis. My family is a great support to me as well, as they’ve been through the years. I knew the world wasn’t perfect and secured some positions of my life to lean on and take cover when it gets tough.

Yet it still hurts. It has to. Such is the grieving process design. It has stages – denial, anger, bargaining, depression and eventually acceptance, and all those are in play, not necessarily in that order, and they could come back and go and come back again. I dealt with denial and anger first, then some acceptance came in. I never thought it would, but bargaining happened two weeks in, when I tried to reconcile with my ex-partner. Strangely enough, acceptance was soaring over it unmasked. So I know it all could change and go over, however my mind will play it out, affected by internal processes, as well as close environmental changes. I will be going over and over this in my head some days, figuring out what figured out already. I’ll be sad. My eyes would get wet every once in a while, and it will be hard to breathe. Then I’ll be OK and yell cocky anthems of freedom and Gods know what else. Then I’ll get down again.

Once I realized that all can be and witnessed a confirmation to that over and over, I thought of something else which never dawned on me and what I didn’t hear other people say.

I recalled a month long separation from my girlfriend who I was with for a year while still drinking. It reminds me a lot of what I am dealing with now, because I still live in the same apartment as I did then and it was also in mid/late September as the latest break up happened. And yes, I was still drinking, and trying to quit. Only at that time I had no idea what I was doing. I was battling lots of things in my head. Justification, regret, righteousness, loss, and anger toward myself for not being able to stop poisoning myself on regular and volunteer basis.

The reason I thought of that is that now that I am looking back on my life of eight years with that woman, knowing that this transition would benefit me, but also missing and needing her presence greatly, trying to figure out some things that are still unclear, battling with myself on the right motives of doing certain things while being together, – it all feels similar to what my life was like separating with another woman, as well eventually, almost a year later, battling and finally quitting drinking alcohol. Why was quitting drinking so hard? Because I was thoroughly dependent on it. Letting go of this substance was extremely hard, because although it poisoned my body and mind, it created a temporary illusion of normalcy and joy that made me tolerate the world around me that I was at war with.

Yes, the amount of time I spend in my head thinking things over is pretty much unstoppable and that’s why my current grieving over the broken long term committed romantic relationship is similar to the process of quitting drinking.

Weird? I think not. I think it is bizarre I haven’t thought of it earlier. Because now that I see it that way, I can think of some other things to include in my daily and nightly routine to help me get through. I am going to make sure prayer and meditation is even more present in my life than before. I plan to eat healthier, including lots of bananas. Hey, a psychiatrist in Russia recommended me to eat bananas over anti-depressants on a regular basis! My sleep patterns are kinda messed up since I work night shift, but I can try to keep it steady. I’ll exercise more. I hang out with people more than before. And I’ll write. Stay creative. Listen to the music that kicks my butt to go and get active. I dealt with these things before, so I should eventually be OK, right? So the research says. So also say people I know from self-help meetings. And my dog will keep my day schedule disciplined as he always did, haha.

I’m moving on. I’m told it’s gonna be hard, and I believe it and I accept it. That way it should be a bit easier, shouldn’t it?

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Green Lit by Sun

August 3, 2016 Leave a comment

graSSAmong the green lit by sun,
Morning mists just vanished,
Around the coat of arms
Mowed in the grass
With flower beds so tight, so vast,
Not minding the sprinkles raging,
I see you walk, without a care
So I assume,
Melancholy reigns your mind,
Or deep thoughts you’re enjoying,
Unravelling secrets you desire,
One way or other.
I watch you tirelessly,
Each minute under European skies
Is the blessing of peace
My psyche requires
Away from want and need
Until the world again awakens
In its rage for intoxication
Of things, ideas, and beliefs.

[image was copied from thanks.]

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Civil War (in your head)

Civil war insanity

When everyone’s

Against everyone’s

Interests and values,

Pissing on belief systems

And questions morality.

So is in my head

When I doubt sanity

And worship chaos.

Axl blares on,

Wondering what’s civil

About war anyway.

He’s right,

It’s a nasty business

In which no one truly wins.

With me, it’s a dispute in which

If there is a gain,

It’s only a temporary euphoria

Of the party that needs

Fairytales more than anything.

In the end all forces die

To black oblivion

That takes hours to dissipate

Before new life of suspicion

And self-deceit

Are born.

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Compressed Identity

compr3Mine used to be the state

 Of body, spirit, and mind

 Broken by my own

 Subconscious vision

 Of not belonging to,

 Not wanting to a part of,

 Desiring escape from,

 And fearing responsibilities,

 As well as obligations,

 In addition

 Constantly feeling like

 As a square peg

 Being pushed

 Into a rounded hole

 Of society’s norms

 And expectations

 In a manner of what felt like

 Deliberately left

 To die insane.

image was recompressed out of the visions copied from and thanks.


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A Non-Existent Life

You think that sun is shining and gives warmth

But not to you,

To someone else perhaps,

But you are always in the shade.

On a hot day it’s good,

But there are more of the colder days

And they last longer.

And the wind is always sharper

Just when you have to walk away

From a shelter you were forced to leave.

What you believed to be salvation

From pain and awkwardness

Became poison you can’t live without.

You heard of people who ended up that way

But you never believed it to be true

Or that it will ever, even in the wildest dreams

Of a madman living in the middle of nowhere,

Would happen to you.

And now witnessing it being real

You still deny it with ferocity of a man drowning at sea.

Only you are really drowning

And you’re not crying for help.

You are too scared to display

Your inability to control your life

You are too embarassed to show the rest of the world

That you can’t enjoy life to the fullest

Like they do, or pretend to do.

Strange colors shine on you at night

When your head screams for fresh air

And your guts are about to swear blood vengeance

For the harms you put them through

And yet still you look upon the wreckage

Of your life you never lived,

Just wallowed in grey existence,

Of never ending hopes

That come through aborted

When opportunities knock

And come away shattered,

Of poisoned hearts and

Rusty nails you continue to step on

And you grin to the sun that seems

To only want to burn you alive

And you give yourself another promise

You so hard want to keep

And forgetting to buckle up

You step out on the road

Into the icy wind that you believe

To be bringing change

To your life

That truly only exists in your drunken bouts.



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Trees Were Fog

foggedAgain came the day

When light was night

And trees were fog

And birds chirping

Was cars with no tires

Screeching against the concrete

At full speed

Down to heaven

In a rush you’d never see

But on December Black Fridays.

All was grey, like the sun had a hangover

And all I cared

Was nothing at all,

But sitting in a shower all day,

With hot water running down by back,

As I felt secure

In my inactivity

And isolation.


In the evening

I’d stumble out of the bathroom,

Like I was drunk and stoned and beaten,

All at the same time,

And stare at the window

At the grey world

And trees whose branches looked

Like fog that descended once

And never wanted to leave,

For in our world

No one cares to look

Or pay attention anyway.

Blind as just born puppies

We only go for what we want to have

Or what we were taught to do,

Not thinking about what others are doing,

Unless it benefits or harms us.


This day lasts for weeks,

Season of rains,

Depressive hours,

Never ending nights.

I don’t know my surroundings anymore.

I don’t know what is there to wish for,

To have this grey time end,

Or find something within me

To make my life worth something,

No matter what the world outside the window looks like.

I think I just answered my question,

But I am just so scared

To make the change.

the image was copied from


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Ripped Ribbons of Assumed Triumph

medalsAt some point

They thought they had it all together:

Ideals, dreams, promises, priorities,

All kinds of ideations felt right

After endless chaotic lifetimes.

Until a day came

When they wasn’t sure anymore

Who they were and what they wanted.

For years they refused to give up

The chip they wore on their shoulders,

For the war they fought

Seemed only relevant to them.

Each day felt like challenge,

Each move they watched for a landmine,

And if someone rushed past them,

They clenched their fists and ducked.

To them life felt like a battle won each evening.

Each night gave rest

And they counted their blessings.

Until the day came

And the nights became bright as mornings.

On the streets people passed them,

Chatting as if never

Feeling in danger,

As if peace never ceased

And sun always shined.

Now was the time

They started doubting memories

Of clashing swords over their heads,

Bullets singing death songs,

As they lay buried in the mud,

Watching the enemy crossing the fields.

Now their medals they assumed they’ve deserved

Are losing their shine.

Now the ribbons of what they knew

To symbolize triumph

Are ripped to shreds

In their worn doubting minds,

Waiting for someone to ring the bell,

Calling them to solve a conflict through fire,

Give meaning to their lives,

Spent in bad dreams,

Knowing no rest,

Daily experiencing fear,

In the back of the world daydreams,

In the assumed battlefields,

Shunned by the ones

Who’ve sworn to love them.

[image was copied from ‘ere. thanks.]


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