I Am From/ Adarienne Laing

I am from the 7th wonder
Six before me
I grew up in a small village
That is called Freeport
Where the sidewalks were made
Out of beads of different shells

Where other people call it
Their beach, Jones beach or Long beach
We had the most beautiful waterfall
On the other side of the railroad tracks.
We call it shady brook – that’s our beach,
our spot for the family.

Still a little girl and happy
It’s not a month that don’t go by
I was a Betty Crocker to Patty Play Pal
To Shirley Temple.
From my 4th older brother
Who is stationed in the Air Force.

I came from a father who worked
And a mother who stayed at home.
When the weekend rolled around
The house became a jam session.
Drinking and liquor – they never had to worry
The next morning cleaning up
I was the human vacuum cleaner.
As the years went on
The pains tears, sorrows
The fun, love laughter
Went out the windows.

I am from the most beautiful mother and father
Who raised 7 children
From the table to the garage
If there is nobody can say they’ve been in Hell
I am the eyewitness
I am FREE.

A new opinion of myself

An opinion I once held but now I have changed, is that I felt that I was worthless. Now I know I have value.

I once believed I was worthless, because the road I chose was a life of drugs. Drugs had me mentally and physically stuck. I didn’t want to do any different in life, like look for work. I was lazy.

Physically I didn’t eat, go anywhere, brush my teeth, or get dressed up. My energy went chasing drugs. It was the only thing important to me. I have changed my opinion towards using drugs. I wasn’t gaining anything in life. I was tired of the life of drugs. Now that I’m clean and sober I look better and feel good about myself.

Today I challenge my fears in life that I was afraid to succeed, like by going to school and being around different attitudes and behaviors. I also cater to myself by dressing nice, getting my hands and feet done, doing my eyes and just loving me on the outside and in. This means respecting myself, humbling myself, and learning to respect and love the new drug free me.

Ejella Riley 3/10/10

MY BOYS

These tears that I cry
are of a heavy heart
my boys are gone
we are now apart
*
They were taken away
in the blink of an eye
now I sit here & wonder
why & I cry
*
I reflect on those days
when they were just little boys
playing together &
sharing their toys
*
With their other brothers & sister
they shared a strong bond
now the circle's been broken
since they've been gone
*
As their mother I'm left
with an ache in my heart
life will never be right
as long as we are apart
*
So I sit & I wonder
I cry & I cry
WHY have my babies been taken?
Oh, Lord, tell me, WHY?

8/25/09

Mom, Jeanne Occhiogrosso

A LETTER TO MY SECRET CRUSH

I don’t want you to think I’m pushing you away,
but I have to go after I say what I came to say.
I need to explain to you how I feel
and I need you to tell me
if what I feel is real.

My love 4 you was a surprise
I felt it deep inside me when I looked into your eyes.
So when you see me I hope you understand
that I’m putting my heart
into your hands.

I am lonely I must admit
but you were there to help me quit
You make me happy when I’m sad
and I’m afraid to lose the best friend I ever had.
Am I expecting too much
to want to be with you
and feel your touch?

I will know the truth just by the look in your eyes.
I’ll take it like a woman and hold my cries.
Always remember I’m only a phone call away,
Regardless of what happens
I respect and love you more than ever
today.

A mother’s broken heart

Opel Hunt

The day she came out of her mother’s womb
The radiant light from her eyes filled the room
She was a God-sent creation from heaven above
God impregnated me with a precious gift of my own to love
I watched her grow until she began to crawl
And then one day she began to walk
I thank God for her every day
Until one day I broke her heart.
God forgive me for breaking my little girl’s heart
Now I see I was just like that
little girl with a broken heart
My mother was in her mother’s womb
When she was born her radiance filled the room
And her mother was born with a broken heart
Please God, can you ever forgive us mothers
For breaking their little girls’ hearts?
Some day, will our little girls forgive us mothers
And give us a chance
To mend their hearts?

Dear God, I thank you for saving my life and cleaning me up
Just to give me another chance
To become a better mother
To mend my child’s heart.

Nivette, Bianca, Jasmine, Sinaia, Nyasia
You all mean the world to me
Please give mommy the chance to mend all of your broken hearts

My mother that I truly love,
Now I see that we were broken from the start
I love you mommy
I love you so much
Let’s allow God’s process to start
Mending our broken hearts

Philippeans 4:13
“I can do all things through Christ Jesus who strengthens me”

Glory House

This place is part for healing,
not only recovery.
Of healing all the hurt.

This place is part for healing,
part for rediscovering
who you were before you came here

I am Diane

I am Diane. I live in a sober house.
I say to myself every day that
I can live a normal life like
I once shared with my son and my family.
I hope my family notices how hard
I’m working to get back their love that
I neglected for so long.
I dream that one day soon
I can have my life back together again.
I am Diane. I live in a sober house

I'm alone/ Barbara

I’m alone.
I ain’t got no change for the phone
And I’m scared
I feel trapped
I hate how I got here
Don’t know when I’ll get out.
That’s wacked and that’s a fact.


Life’s on borrowed time
It’s on a loan
Angels bargained for me
And I’m back
To stand alone
My heart’s pumpin’ fast
And I’m all alone
My heart's pumpin’ faster
And I’m all alone
I’m on my own

I noticed it from the corner of my eye/ Joan

This is the tree in the back yard.
I noticed it from the corner of my eye:
it is silver and grey and perfectly formed.
The History Channel was talking about ghost ships,
so I started calling it my ghost tree.
I happened to notice it from the corner of my eye.

I come from my grandmother’s dreams

I come from my grandmother’s dreams
A girl. Finally. The pink and white blanket envisioned a generation ago can be knit. Only the best yarn will do. Oh, yes. The thick blanket cradles the lump on her head perfectly. Dr. Epstein, the famous surgeon, removes it and she is fine, you see?
Dreams can come true
Erin, you still do? Ha! Yes, every day I put cream on my elbows too. Feel how smooth. Let me see yours. Oh, yes. You are a lady too. Now tell me how is Johnny, Vice President? Oh-ah! He is good. He is smart. And you too. You will graduate, get a good job. Now why don’t you marry this one? He will have you, support you, be good to you. And he wants Jewish babies, yes? Oh, I am talking, talking – the flowers! Why do you do this, baby? So much money! Oh, Erin, I love you. I love your brother too, but you – ah, you know it.
I became my grandmother’s nightmare.
Kicked out of college. For drugs! What is this? Marijuana now. Then it will be heroin. Is she addicted? The soap opera showed it – the girl addicted to drugs, meeting the dealer in a dark alley, selling her body. Not Erin. Why won’t her mother, her father, her godmother, someone, they won’t save her, make her be good?
There is no cure for nightmares.
You must do as I say Erin. Go back to school. Be a mentch. Leave this – this place. Your parents don’t even know this man. Who is he? Why? Why won’t you? You MUST LISTEN to me. You’re lucky. You have parents that love you, that want you home. My parents died in the war when I was 14. I was alone. Fourteen. Go, go home. Erin, please. What is wrong with you? What are you doing in this place? I want to see you. Meet him. You were too bony. Eat. You need to eat, eat. I will cook for you. You will bring him to me. That is fine. But DO SOMETHING. You don’t listen to me. Listen to your mother. She says you are bad. Be good. Go. Be a mentch.
I am waking up.
I give her eulogy, high. Everyone says how beautiful it was. Reminds me how grandma stitched her every stitch with love. So she’s giving me a big hug. Back at his studio I rip the sweater off to look for a fresh vein. The needle rocks me to sleep. I dream that I’m clean, back in school, happy, bringing my grandma flowers, making her proud.
Dreams can come true.
Happy Mother’s Day grandma. I love you. I miss you so much! I’m 9 months clean. I wish you were here to see me like this. I’m trying so hard to be a mentch. I’m gonna go back to school, be an art teacher or an art therapist. I guess you know what I am doing now (not like you didn’t have ideas when you were here. I know you knew it all). I’m sorry I hurt you so bad. I know you forgive me. I just wish I’d been good enough that you could’ve visited me, told me stories before bed. I don’t even remember your last Mother’s Day. And today just doesn’t feel right. At least you’re happy somewhere. Tell your mom I say Happy Mother’s Day, too.
And the flowers weren’t much.
I wanted to.
I love you.

Linda: Silencing, screams and finding voice

My voice was silenced since I was a little girl
When I was a small child,I am told,
I had a very large voice,
a large voice and large sobs when I was unhappy.
I would run to my grandma, scared and silent
and hide beneath her skirts so I would not get hit.
I remember running away from my father-
a larger than life person with huge hands
and a voice that made me shiver when he called my name -
I was scared of being found and punished,
for my “big mouth”,
for being a chatterbox,
for minding my brother’s work and imperfections,
for carrying home the “tales of the day” from public school.
for things beyond my control,
such as wetting my bed each and every night.

My father was in the navy
And when he came home on leave
he looked tall and handsome in his white uniform
and shoes shinning like mirrors.
He played with us
until my laughter turned to pleading
for him to stop tickling me.
When I started to cry he became angry
and called me a cry-baby.
Then he’d start drinking.
If one of us misbehaved- we all suffered.
He would hit us over and over
while my mother stood outside the door
holding a tube of first-aid cream and band-aids
that did little to cover our bruises.

I knew fear from an early age.
I feared my father,
learned to hide and pocket my words – my sobs,
trying to find my bed before he found me.
But then I was afraid to go to bed,
scared to awaken in soaking wet sheets and be punished.
I was punished and hit if I asked for a drink before going to sleep
or ices and ice cream like my brothers and sister.
I learned that I was “a problem child” –
always needing more attention than the rest,
getting it in ways that left me troubled and more scared.
I learned early that silence would serve me best
if I wanted to avoid physical punishment
but sometimes I would forget
and had to run away to escape his wrath.
The “all clear” sounded in my head
when my father slipped off to sleep
and was oblivious to the chaos in a house with 4 children.

When I was a pre-teen
I was so terrified of my father
that I escaped by staying at school and doing extra work,
as late as I could to avoid conflict at home.
He became angry, and got me home to help with things around the house –
namely, my sick brother.
Upon verbalizing my resentment
I was silenced with the back of my father’s hand.

An emotional wreck,
I did little but cry
isolated in my room.
Began pulling out my hair,
creating bald spots that called for a wig.
The one I got allowed me to escape again,
covering all the scars
that might have shown I was screaming for help,
screaming for help,
begging to be noticed
behind this head cover.
I started to eat
and eat more
and more –
snacks,
cakes,
candy,
whatever I could get my hands on
to pacify my emotions,
to cover up the pain.

As a teenager
I tried to be silent
but could not silence the screams,
hair pulling,
over eating,
bed wetting,
over which I had no control.
Outbursts led to punishment.
I hated myself
and found new ways to escape the pain –
pills(for a condition my parents called “highly strung”).

My elder sister was protective of me
and I followed her everywhere she let me go.
When I wet my bed I would crawl into bed with her
and wet her bed also.
My brother Howard and I spent time together
getting high and trying to avoid trouble.
It didn’t work
My twin brother Harry developed epilepsy
as a result of a blow to his head
and at age 11 I became responsible for his wellbeing.
As his seizures went out of control
I began suffering from migraines.
The pain medication and tranquilizers I was prescribed
were the beginning of my addiction –
I was high most of the time on doctor-prescribed meds.

At 18 I ran into the arms of my husband.
I needed to be rescued, to be taken care of.
What a bad idea that turned out to be!
Now I had adult responsibilities and 2 children in my life,
still afraid to face myself.
I went from child to adult,
skipping all the steps in between.
I was divorced by 25.

I began a long journey of drug addiction.
popping as many pills as I could
until I had none left or was too sick to take any more.
I was running away from myself,
my problems,
my demons,
uncomfortable in my own skin.
I was confused and frustrated,
couldn’t correct the mistakes I had made
nor the course my life was taking.
I lacked confidence and was frightened
by the impulsive decisions I made
affecting the lives of my children.
I was ashamed and and did very little that was right.
I could not silence the nightmare which was my life.

With 2 kids in tow I went back to my mother’s
who berated me for not listening,
for choosing marriage and children too soon,
for being ungrateful,
selfish and stupid,
for not listening….
Ran away again and found myself a welfare mom –
angry, frightened and alone,
scared to learn on my own,
to take responsibility for my choices.

I moved from place to place throughout the years,
reinventing myself as I traveled about
so no one could keep track of my behavior,
my addictive self
the embarrassing things I’d done;
I moved from borough to borough, state to state,
changing my address, jobs and names,
to protect myself from criticism and judgment.
I was broken and homeless by the end of this story,
having gone through too many beginnings and far too many ends.

I am now a voice trying on truth for a change,
looking to drop off the lies, to become more honest,
lighter to carry myself from place to place.
I am now 50 plus and have chosen to stop running and hiding.
because I can’t hide from myself.
There is much work to be done
to live my life free from self doubt and embarrassment.
It’s time to shake the past off my shoulders
to get busy living in the here and now,
right now!

Dakota

I’ve always loved dogs.
It’s almost like they understand me,
and I understand their need and desire to be loved.
Chew is my best friend.
I tell him everything, although not in words.
When I feel happy, upset or just plain down,
I go and sit with Chew.
I don’t have to talk,
I can sit still
and let my higher power speak to me in the stillness.

When I was young I was told
I was adopted from Canada,
that I’m Mohawk Indian and French Canadian.
Indians believe in spirit guides and so do I.
I feel that certain dogs trust me
because they know
I have the Wolf spirit by my side.
The wolf is the teacher,
the pathfinder
and moon dog of my soul.

Patty - I am From…

I am from Barbie dolls and baseball bats,
I am from Girl Scouts and basketball,
I am from PTA
to NA and AA,
I am in Glory House
from living on the street,
I am from being half a person
to being whole again.

Mary - Today I am Proud of Myself

Life isn’t fair, but we have to learn from it.
I used to be a beautiful mother.
But when I was using I was nobody.

Before, I was on the street drugging.
I was smoking all day and all night,
hanging out with prostitutes.
My sister told me: “you will not be nobody”.
When we feel nobody loves us, we feel lost.

Today I am doing the right thing.
Getting a new foundation for life.
Finding myself by myself has given me power.

Today, when I look at myself in the mirror,
I laugh.
I am somebody:
Jesus loves me.
I love myself.

Today I am proud of myself.
I am a powerful woman.
I hold my head high.

Linda

First I took pictures of the flowers when they were very small and about 2 weeks later, when they had grown. I did that because they remind me of myself: when I got clean this time I was very immature, but now I feel that I’m growing each day, learning about myself, trying to please myself and not others. Like the flowers.

Fifi - I am From

I am from a broken family,
from hallways with a foul stench,
buildings with broken elevators.
Had a lot of good friends there:
Shannon, Troy, Malika, Charlene, Danielle.
They were supportive,
helped me with money.
We shot the breeze,
went to concerts,
but, mostly,
we drank.

Dakota

The next photo shows my half of the room. I share this room with another resident here at Glory House. At first I was not sure I would make it here. I was very reluctant to be here, however I was used to structure from being in prison. My problem was being able to trust others. My whole being had became hard in prison because I had to fight to get respect and show that I was not an easy mark. Today I can be myself not the inmate locked up like a caged animal. I lost the hardness that I had to have to protect myself. I found a higher power that is loving, and understanding. I found a new strength here at Glory House. I found a safe place or I should say - a safe place found me.

Betty - Why am I here and what is my journey

My life and mind have always been in a spin,
like a tornado.
Don’t know where I’m going,
but I know where I’ve been –
I’ve been through a lot in life
that shouldn’t have been.

Who knows what I’ll be doing?
Why am I still here?
What is my purpose on earth?

I search for a magic carpet
to carry me to my higher place,
and slip me wings
so I may soar like an eagle
through the soft clouds of heaven
and feel them gently touch my cheeks
with their soft kisses of love
on my journey to finding
my rainbow of happiness
on the other side.

Is there such a dream?
Maybe some day I'll find it
through the hands of God with His love for me.

Mary

I love my book, the lion book* Whenever I’m depressed or sad, when I think of my mother or my children I read it and it makes me laugh. This is a funny lion, like when he says: “I like the word hunter. I’ll go get me a hunter”. And if somebody asks me who I am laughing at, I say I am not laughing at anybody; I’m laughing at the lion.
I read over and over the parts that I already know, and when I get to a word that I don’t know, I just skip over it.
Sometimes I ask someone to read with me but they always say they’re busy, or they pretend they’re busy. Today I have this half cup of coffee. I think I will give it to Joan. Maybe she will read with me in return for the coffee. Or I can try and catch her when she is smoking a cigarette outside. Maybe then she'll read with me.
*Lefcadio/Shel Silverstien.

Annette - I chose to take a picture of an abandoned house

I chose to take a picture of an abandoned house
because two years ago when I was drinking,
I lived in an abandoned house.
I had abandoned myself and my life.
I didn’t care where I lived.
All I needed was to drink.

A guy named Dave let me stay
he wanted sex,
I didn’t.
He got mad and threw me out.
I was on the street again.

You can’t go any lower
than getting kicked out of an abandoned house.
Now, I can laugh about it,
Then, I hit rock bottom.

I asked God for help.

I also took a picture of Glory House.
It is my sanctuary,
my safe house,
my home for now,
my home away from home.
I am safe,
I have a warm bed,
I can trust everybody.
I can call if I fall.

I don’t want to remember
that other part of my life,
but I have to so I can remain sober!