“I
Heard She Went Crazy” - Introduction
Its senior year, 1997…where did all my
friends go? Were they the druggies or
the cheerleaders? I didn’t know anymore,
but I was alone. It had been too much
pot one night, and pot always made me feel weird. And here I was senior year, alone. I walked through the hall like a zombie, kids
parted the path before me like I was contagious. They were staring, whispering,
and pointing at me. “I heard she went
crazy.” I sunk down into my seat stiff
from the medications. “What the hell
happened to her?” “She was hit on the
head with a Turkey at Thanksgiving break…maybe it was acid?” “What’s wrong with
her? Why won’t she talk?” “Be nice to her.” Are you ok?
Are you ok? Eve are you
listening? Are you ok?
“Yes I am fine!” Where I went was the psych ward for a
month, where I really was, was in
hell. But I never told that part of the
story, until it was time to tell. That
time is seventeen years later, that time is now. I’m tired I guess, worn out by all the crazy talk. So yes I will tell all, that sometimes I go
insane. No more guessing or gossip, and
I always come back from the other side, to live and breathe amongst the
ridicule. My ego is about blown up,
destroyed, gone…and maybe that is all God needed to unravel my story, to
finally be told. Sometimes I go places
people don’t like to talk about, and really who is going to understand all
this? No one in their right mind, that
is for sure. Who else will empathize or relate, where are my people? Take me to
your leader, because I am an alien! My
secrets are too much, too scary, and way too far out, but I still just want
people to understand, because yes I am an alcoholic too. There is a need there in my alcoholism, to
fit somewhere, but really I am just not normal at all. I have always drank to blend in, because I am
a stand out, and finally I am not afraid of that. People love me? Hate me?
Fear me? Reject me? Laugh at me?
And I am ok with that now. None
of it has killed me yet. And I doubt
with how strong I am through all this, I will ever feel it hurt again…because
finally through the battle of a lifetime, I don’t care what people think…whew
that was difficult!
Hurt.
Drink. Hurt. Drink. Need more
love. Need more always, give me love.
Love ME ME ME. Tell me you love me…tell me again, over and over. Drink more, excel more, and prove more, then
someone will love me more. Never stop
pushing to be the best at everything. Let me share everything with you, but
please don’t hurt me…HURT. Drink, Drank, Drunk.
Safety net dropped September 17th, 2012. Sober.
Repeat. Again. More.
Never enough. Give me. I will give you all of me, here it’s all for
you, don’t hurt me! Victim. It’s all your fault, never my fault! I told you everything! Why don’t you like me? HURT.
No drink. Pain. No drink.
Joy. No drink. Laughter.
No drink. Rejection. No drink.
And so it went with NO DRINKING…And so it went, well…
Like this
really isn’t happening is it? I am a
stalker. As if I ever gave a rat’s ass
about any man rejecting me before.
Seriously, I just expected it…it was just my lot in life to never have
something last longer than the good time, and deep down I never wanted it
to. I certainly maybe got slightly upset
and went to the bar in the past, partied it up…and I never ever had to
care! Maybe I was always a man hater,
because I never got attached, was flaky for sure, between this one and that
one, and all were dispensable to me, even the really cute ones. I had zero care for men, never trusted one,
and yet I needed them for my ego, to tell me my value per se. So that’s an
issue, eh? I would go years without
being in a relationship, study school books, and make myself the smartest, most
attractive, perfect person I could be, just to be worthy…and push, push, push
to be enough. I never tried to make anything work though, and there was a lot
of drinking involved with my dating. I had a system, I knew exactly what would
push them away and I would “do it” every time.
Make 'em run, just never get close to a man, daddy issues, I
suppose. Go figure my marriage was a
bust, I had like no relationship practice.
So what happened to me in the past year, is super weird…as I said I am a
stalker. Surprisingly at an impressive
felony type level, love me some texting, isn’t technology great? And don’t be looking for any serious action,
because it was all just texting, felony
stalking for the new age. Okay, and so I
drove by his house a few times too, um…I
must be the only woman in the universe to do that, am I right ladies? I am currently on a GPS system 6 months, after
the fact, because I am considered dangerous by my victim. Ooh boy…I have never had a victim
before…sounds like true love! All I want
to do it bite on your neck a little, it really won’t hurt! No this won’t hurt a
bit…and then out come my vampire teeth!
I might as well be vampire at this point because he is scared to death
of me, but at least as a vampire, that would be like sexy stalker style,
instead of psycho stalker style. I got
to pick my battles though, because I am a pretty, sexy, and talented stalker,
but not a vampire one…but yes slightly psycho, but only sometimes. You’ll see.
Well whatever all this stalking business is about, and at this time I just boil
it down to some serious passion, lust, and my deepest darkest desires…which
thankfully are absolutely, not dark at all, although I do make some jokes about
handcuffs these days…is that dark? I
really don’t see the need for the GPS, I feel sort of misunderstood, because I
am not knife wielding psycho, just love struck psycho. You’ll see…so surely I was annoying, and his
territory in this city is marked, but I assure you he is quite safe, that’s
quite frankly my opinion, but you can read my story and decide for
yourself. And keep in mind that I do go
insane, but just sometimes. Bipolar with
psychotic features, is my diagnosis.
And the man of the hour is one
Adam Raposa…doesn’t he just sound super dreamy?
I think he is a little Italian like type of sexy, with chocolate brown
eyes, long eyelashes, long curly black hair, a tight body, with oh so nice abs.
And he told me he could do like 30 some pull ups without resting…so there ya
go, I am sold. And he relaxes in LONG
JOHNs…what what? PUHLEASE!!!??? Who wouldn’t be so all about Adam? Damn sexy is Adam Raposa. And maybe that’s just my stalker perspective
take on things…and of course this story is all about my perspective on what
happened. So Mr. Raposa got some random texts from me, over a year’s period of
time, but I think that my side of the story is much, much more interesting. And
so here we are class, like sins of time, through the sand riddled
Savanna…Jasmine and Aladdin await their Magic Genie, to foretell ye a classic
web, full of love tales. Adam is just super-hot, and through this story you can
just imagine him pirate like, long and lean with tats, gold earrings, like I
said that thick black curly hair, oh and a knife in his teeth, as he forebodes
my attraction to him, venomously, like a cobra. Just imagine his stance…as he
calls the cops, over and over. And the glare, oh the glare! How dare I love on
this man??? Oh Adam…gonna get you boy,
you best watch out for this PiraTESS! Do I obsess much? Riddle me a bottle of Tequila with a worm in
that one! I never did like Captain Morgan, so save the rum for yourself. I hear
you left Cook, right after the restraining order, so what up with your
sobriety? Just curiosity, but that is probably what killed my kitty for you.
Back to damn sexy, pirate, foreboding brown eyes, long and lean, muscular in a
ripped, but not the gym addict type of way, just hardworking toned at the job.
Bricks. A slayer layer. Oh ya got me!!!
I swoon, I faint…I can’t barely breathe! Hand to forehead, knees knocking, take
me to the ER, he got me straight through the heart, and he won’t put the
shockers back on me!!! A slayer layer. Bricks, he is a Mason. Mason’s hail from
England, just an FYI, I don’t think he is Italian, but we shall pretend! Sexy Italian Pirate…okay?
So anyway, five days after Adam
and I broke up I made a list. The items
on this list were my goals for early sobriety. I was told that I was like a fifteen year old
emotionally, and so I decided to reunify with who I was at fifteen. To go back to that time and take back what
was once mine. So God took me back to fifteen, for a recapture of that
innocence, PRINCESS BEAUTY, and who I was whole, before I drank. Something else
that happened to me at fifteen, God decided to give back to me too…read ahead
for details. And for those who wonder
how old I was, when all this happened I was 34…no I was fifteen! There are certain things that my “gift”
noticed when editing this tale. Such as
the numbers 4, 5 and 6 being repeated incessantly like a pattern. Also the days on the 17th, my
sobriety birthday something was always happening. Then I noticed the word “beat,” as in my
fierce competition, or a punishment, or my heart beating, and how many times I
repeat that word, over 50 times. I think
this is a psychological sign for me, as I know just how much I do not like to
be “beat” on anything! And oh how my
heart beats for you! RAPOSA!!! RAPOSA!!!
RAPOSA…whisper it with me now…RAPOSA. Then like an Echo on repeat imagine me
talking about this man, ADAM, ADAM, ADAM…to everybody for about two years, and
how annoying I am, and then rethink really reading my story haha! Repetition, works in stalking, trust me on
this! So just watch for these things and enjoy!
On my five month birthday on the 17th of February, five
minutes after Adam walked away from me in the 510 Cook parking lot, and said
“take five months and see if your life gets better”…I made a list. And remember that this reads like a daily
entry journal and not a chronological book. Topics change quick, because it was
days and time passing and I didn’t originally write it for the world to see, I
wrote it for Adam! I think it was much
easier to tell my life story with one person in mind! And then over a year gone
by, I sailed the seven seas and found my cell mate baiting worms…sipping on
water, spitting and smoking tobacco, like it was his job. He is a multitalented layer, mostly bricks
and tile, and he surely left me with a smile…I see his brick laying all over
town…and dream it was done for me. This
story is fantasy, but not fiction. Here is my Fifteen List, where all the goals
began.
Fifteen list
February 17th, 2013 - Before I Drank
I had never kissed a boy.
I read lots of books.
I could do the splits
I was very smart.
I went the extra mile.
I wrote short stories and poems
I played the violin.
I played volleyball
I didn’t hurt so many people.
I listened to other people.
I believed in God.
I had many friends.
I didn’t smoke.
I loved to dance
I could run
I was quiet
I was nervous
I obeyed my mother
I could tell myself no
I trusted myself
I loved my family
I had dreams
I didn’t mind being alone
I was never hungover
I knew who I was
I felt safe
I wanted to be a doctor
Today I have five months
sober. Although tonight I do feel very
alone…it is not so bad. I am getting
more comfortable with who I am and am enjoying this self-discovery process. Just got rejected big time by Adam, but I
deserved it. He really is a very good
guy. I like him a lot…wish he believed
in God though. Cannot change that about
him though, only God could. Shouldn’t
make him my goal anyway. Should ask for
Gods will only and see what happens. I have never trusted God to take care of
me…I have prayed but never trusted. I
really want to grow up and just grow as a person in recovery. Always thought the drunk me was so much
better…no matter the consequences. I
haven’t lived a very good life…I have lived a carefree life and I am not proud
of it. Right now I am dieting and trying
to quit smoking. Self-discipline
actually feels good…who would have thought!
I am changing…slowly but surely and I do think it is very important for
me to work on myself during this time. I
should focus on myself and stay single.
The ultimate goal is a better me!
I believe it will happen…I have that faith. I have never put so much effort into myself
before. It really feels great, like I am
going to get somewhere good. Maybe just be genuinely happy and content with
myself for at least trying in life. I
love my boys more now that I don’t drink…I just think I am able to experience
much purer forms of enjoyment. Realizing
that self-control is far better than not being inhibited at all. I am much less promiscuous sober. That feels
good too! Like hey I do have a choice
about my body and what I do with it. It
is such an empowering feeling to be in control of myself…wow. Was an idiot about me for so long…don’t know
why it takes me so long to come to change points in my life? Like what makes me tick? How did I end up this fricking old? Time has been wasted that is for sure…but not
completely if I can help others with my story.
Lots of regrets in my life…finally admitted alcohol has me whipped. Got to be done. Got to be honest with how much it changed
me…and exactly what I have given up in my life to party. The drink totally changed my character I
believe. I became very selfish and
self-consumed. Barely able to love others in any kind of meaningful way. No wonder my marriage didn’t work. Working on myself now and taking this time to
figure out me is going to be key to me ever having a good relationship. No matter whom it is with...this time for myself
will be worth it. Don’t sacrifice myself
for anyone else at this time…need this time!
Yay, five months is a good start!
Good job Eve!
So then a month went by and I was missing Adam something
fierce. He didn’t want to talk to me, he
was mad. I really didn’t know how mad,
until I did. So Aunna told me to write
him a letter. So that’s what I did.
I am writing to you because today
I still love you. I am writing to you because I needed a way to leave you
alone. I needed a way to be alone. First thing to say is that I can type as fast
I think…and I think fast. I am a week
into this and it is already an embarrassing amount of information. I still don’t know if you will see this, but
tonight I am terrified of what could be the ramifications. I am sober.
I am being the realest, real me to you that I have ever been to
anyone. I am completely laying myself on
the line. You are either going to
understand me or you are going to think I am psycho and put a restraining order
on me. This is the biggest risk I have
ever taken without alcohol coursing through my veins. This is me.
This is me like a scared little girl. This is me vulnerable, real and
raw. I understand what I am doing, but
have no security of the outcome. My hope tonight that as insane as this writing
has started, that you will see improvement in me over time. I have to believe that I will get better
because of the program, being honest, and not drinking. If I don’t have that faith…I have absolutely
nothing…and this plan, this story…will mean nothing to me, or you. I have faith.
FLASH
FORWARD BACK TO 1978 the year I was born, in the year 2014, June. I have
crossed attics sons to find you. Do you remember me from the sand boxed in
trucks and native Barbie dolls? We used
to play together Al, The Tim, You and Vick and Me. CON Defendants. Weren’t you
my biological cell mate? CELLS? BIOLOGY
!)!, but I didn’t even listen, I was just staring at all the boys! Just give me
an A+ already! You don’t even need to
read on about MY CHEMISTRY SKILLS! So do
you got that fight inside your veins? Did you spell on me? Could you read me
backwards, and inside out by looking in my eyes? Did you vex me? I called you
my soul mate, and you were afraid. How do you think I know? The fight in your
veins is mine. You are my PIRATE, and it is written in our blood, I have
visions of signs and wonders…look to me for your Cave of Gold!