numinous proclamation

November of 2009 was the month I woke up and embraced my transmutation. Enmity residing within took precedence over my goals, but only temporarily. My words were not warranted (entirely) and the behavior... pues... I am mercurial as fuck. I just am and it is often not within the confines of my self control. 

I consider the nefarious white horse an Austin persuasion. At least it is for me. The people and places associated with using it is what historically drew me back in, not the drug craving itself. It's a "when in Rome" kind of attraction. My problem is not the booze or the drug, it is substance and sheer lack of temperance. Depending on substance for happiness gives way to the loss of identity.

Losing yourself to drugs and alcohol gives way to malevolent sin... in many forms, but most notably lust, greed, and the notorious deluded grandeur. I have been guilty of all the aforementioned... superfluously. Fuck... I never said I was perfect. Far from it, I am flawed! Imagine that! Admitting shortcomings should not make one subject to being scapegoat, outcast, or black sheep by default. Mistakes should not be thrown in one's face time and time again by their loved ones. Mistakes are a personal thing, for the most part, where an individual allotted free will by society is allowed the opportunity to learn from the consequences of his or her actions. This works... so long as the decisions of an individual are not injurious to others.

Out of control? I am an adult fully capable of making my own decisions. Loving someone and helping them, does not entitle one ownership or control over the person... nor does status. I do not recall signing away my rights. Quite the contrary, I coveted my freedom long before I was able to stake claims to my personal independence. Material possessions should not be used as expedients for emotive leverage. Yes, I suffer from Bipolar II Disorder (not Bipolar I) and my ability to admit that openly should not change the way that people treat me, but it does. The stigma associated with the illness is the real problem. The past four months of my life have been HELL and the way my family and so-called friends have treated me has been despicable. What gives you the right? I feel as if I've been stripped of my legal rights just because I've been in some vulnerable positions... jobless, depressed, with out a home (but never a couch, thank god), and drowning in absolute despair.

I know I am a good and capable person that deserves happiness. I am not letting anyone stand in my way.