This guest submission comes from one of my Writing to Heal students, where participants find the courage to heal by facing their stories, often for the first time. I am deeply grateful to Jorgie for his vulnerability and so proud of the growth in his writing from Week 1 to Week 6 of our program.
Content Warning: Physical Violence and Language.
A truth I learned about myself while working with my therapist, is that I was addicted to “codependency”, and nobody could tell me shit otherwise. I was heavily relying on my relationship with my ex-partner and people throughout my life, so my therapist explained to me, “People (Bodies), Places (Alcohol), and Things (Pills) were “wants” of mine, not “needs.” My assumption was that as long as I was in school and working that, I was doing ok, and that my societal expectations were being met. My needing assistance is ok if I need help and support from my family and friends, not be an “Emotional Vampire” and drain the life forces from the people that I love and care about. Afterward, I started to take responsibility for the actions that I had always avoided. Through sobriety, I was more “Present,” and my awareness heightened, and I was able to think more clearly and not depend on Alcohol and Pills for escapism and avoidance.
Codependency started blooming from childhood because even though I had a roof over my head, sometimes, with the chaos at home, the roof would constantly shatter over my head, shake the walls, and I always hid from loudness. My parents fought constantly; my dad would hit my mom, pinch her, and pull her hair, and in retaliation, my mom would explode with rage and break dishes in the house. The screaming and the sounds of flesh hitting flesh caused huge knots in my stomach, that is, until this day, whenever I hear loudness, my sensors go up. I hid, avoided, and exploded. My parents loved me, unfortunately they did not have the resources and coping skills for communication, embrace and peace due to Intergenerational trauma passed down from my grandparents and my great grandparents.
Every time there was chaos in the house, I always ran into my bedroom, jumped on the bed, forced my face down on the pillow, and sobbed. Consciously I went in there to hide because it was the only door in the house with a lock on it and a big bed to keep me afloat and protect me like a fortress from violence. The knots in my gut that were corralling around like vines with thorns on it, made my stomach so heavy, it was like swallowing a bowling ball, the heaviness would not go away, until the fights subsided. It was like my throat was dry as the desert, could not swallow, forcefully exhaling my breaths out of my cracked quaky lips which only stayed lubricated from my tears rolling down my cheeks. I was a “Professional Hider” with my heavy breathing and uncontrollable sobbing, while the background noise continued with my parents screaming, yelling, fighting, dishes breaking, and empty threats.
As I got older, I became an “Emotional Vampire”. The chaos that ensued at home did not fill me with love, only dread. Everyone within my proximity, I would suck their energy like a mosquito, and not getting enough blood. If they did not answer the phone, I would give them hell. If they did not answer my text messages I would ignore them for days, even weeks. Being alone and in my thoughts, I absolutely could not do it, so I always bombarded my friends with phone calls to hang out, get high, drunk, and numb out. If my friends did not meet my expectations to hang out or even talk, they would meet the “Brown Eyed Bitch”. Even though they loved me, they just found me relentless and exhausting and would ignore me. I will show them!
The Brown Eyed Bitch (BEB) was the life of the party; everyone always needed Jorgie at the party to hype it up, twerk upside down, vomit and be a hot damn mess. Like two sides of a coin, there was the “Jorgie” side, and the “BEB” side. If I called a friend and they did not answer, beware if I leave a voicemail, “Oh so you did not answer your phone? Ok! I see how it is, Celebrity! Let me ask you, are you on an EGOT? Do you have an Emmy, Grammy, Oscar or Tony? I don’t think so so why didn’t you pick up the fucking phone?!” If the BEB texted, and there was no response, then it becomes…
“Hello?”
“Are you there?”
“So now you’re ignoring me?
“Ok watch!”
“Wait until I see you”
“Bitch”
“Love you!”
If my friends could not fill my love tank, then “bodies” would. So I started to randomly hook up with strangers online, and on blind first dates, that just led to Blackout Sex. The embrace, hugs, and kisses that I did not get from home, I would look for complete strangers who would fill me up, never see them again, and move on to the next one. It was not until I went on a blind date that finally, a spark was formed when I met my future partner, when we went to the movies to see Inception. We really enjoyed each other’s company, so we went on many more dates, and ended up together for the next 12 years. Unfortunately, towards the end of the relationship, we were both drinking and using, and what I saw in my parents as a child was now something I did with my partner. The yelling, slapping, kicking, disagreements, it was like a cycle of violence all over again into my adulthood.
In the beginning, we were goo goo gaga for each other, love at first sight, the perfect couple. Finally, I felt at peace in my life, and I had a life I could share with someone,spend the rest of my life with, and create a future together. Unfortunately, we found a hobby together, which was drinking. We drank everyday, then one day my partner gave me a pain pill, and my life drastically changed from there. I was hooked, it was like no other feeling I ever felt, and I needed more. Those feelings intensified, so when my partner was not looking I would go into their bag and steal their pills. Finally completing my trifecta of: body, alcohol and pills, I was set, and my life was like that for the whole relationship with my partner at the time. Avoided my family, no Communication with my friends, and Exploded with fury at my partner.
To understand the demise of our relationship is for me to explain how it comes crumbling down piece by piece, until it was glass shattered all over us, that we were cut with each blade, and we had scars all over of our body, and yet we were both in denial that “everything is OK”. In the Beginning of our relationship, I felt like I was floating on air, I was happy all the time like a kid at the Amusement park, the joy, endless conversations that made me feel like finally I was not alone. Unfortunately, alcohol came into the picture, and we were always arguing, sometimes I could not even stand their ass, and wanted them out of my sight. Like a gnat that was in my face, and I wanted to smack the shit out of it and get it the hell away from me! Our conversations would be filled with such love and care. The beginning of our wonderful partnership was like….
“Hi babe, how was your day?”
“I miss you”
“I love you”
“Let’s go have dinner, where would you like to go?”
Drastically, over time, the relationship was crumbling; we were drinking daily, and the BEB was more present than Jorgie.
“Hey did you fold the laundry?”
“Did you take the dogs out?”
“Did you clean up the dog shit?”
“Yeah let’s go eat and get it over with”.
On June 5, 2022, my ex of 12 years kicked me out of our shared Townhouse. Months later, I would send them a text saying, “Thank you for doing that; you kicking me out was doing me the biggest favor, and I am sober now”.” I know deep deep deep down in my heart that if I stayed in that relationship I would not be sober. My therapist asked me “What would happen if you stayed in that relationship?” I said, “I would be dead”. Now I am 2 years sober, and it is one of my greatest accomplishments that I have ever done for myself, by myself.
On June 6, 2022, I moved back in with my family; they opened their arms and welcomed me back home to heal, detox, and recover. Fortunately, this time back home, I informed my family members that I had boundaries; I was still in recovery and currently medicated. My mom spoke to my dad and told him that I needed my space and that any disagreements between them should be resolved on their own and not get me involved like a referee when I was just a child. What I did a lot as a child, though, turned me into a Voracious Reader as an Adult, and it was not until I found “QuitLit,” which is interpreted as (Literature of Quitting Drinking), that I began to dive into the readings, journaling, and self-reflections. I felt less alone and connected with other people online and on social media. Afterwards, I decided to seek out a therapist, and it has been vital to my growth and mental health. Reconnecting with my Family (Repairing the damages done to each other many years ago, through support and communication), reading, community, and therapy are the glorious components that have kept me sober. Taking it one day at a time, it is not easy, but I keep going.
About the author, Jorgie: I’m a kindergarten teacher who’s been an educator for 16 years. I am two years sober, and proud of it. I like to do writing on the side, and have two dogs and one cat.
Jorgie has recently created a Substack to continue to share his work, and you can follow him on Instagram here. His IG stories are so fun to follow!
