the little red haired girl lay strung out in bed, jonesing for a fix. leaning over into her bedside drawer, she quietly retrieved her second morning cocktail of xanaflex, vicodin/norco and xanax. her husband mumbled and turned over, no longer smiling in his sleep...she is al(one)....
the little red haired girl pounded back 2 plus bottles of wine. it was 7 am. these were secret bottles. 4 were purchased, but 3 were hidden in the car until she could safely hide them in the kitchen. she used to hide her fiorinols here, and he never found those...[famous last words]...she is al(one)...
the little red haired girl's pills were thrown away by him; praying her insanity would unspiral, when all it did was explode. hours of crying, screaming, leaving, driving, begging, ripping; unconsciousness of the disease. the disease devoured everything in sight...and she is al(one)...
pillar of strength
the redheaded woman touches down on rubber and runs intercepted for 2.7 miles., in a facility cramped with gym rats and pounding dance music. she feels anxious, but exhilarated...and she is not al(one)...
the redheaded woman leans into psychiatrist dr.c, emptying buckets of remorse onto his notepads. she feels anxious, but exhilarated...and she is not al(one)...
the redheaded woman sits uncomfortably in an aa meeting, raptly soaking up the shared stories and the raw emotion that flows within the walls. she wonders why she's "meant to be here". she feels anxious, but exhilarated...and she is not al(one)...
there is a woman struggling. scared to mark the final sixteen notches on her klean belt. scared to reenter an unfamiliar world of sobriety. scared to renter a marriage she nearly imploded.
but her work is done alone. and through being alone, she will become one.
go strong, beautiful, capable, intelligent, sober woman...with a creatinine of 1.0.
"one is the loneliest number you will ever do" -the beatles
"one is the most fabulous number you will ever be"- hennybird
let me be one.