There is a safe place in view of all, but difficult of approach, where there is no old age nor death, no pain nor disease. It is what is called Nirvâna, or freedom from pain, or perfection, which is in view of all; it is the safe, happy, and quiet place which the great sages reach. That is the eternal place, in view of all, but difficult of approach. Those sages who reach it are free from sorrows, they have put an end to the stream of existence.
Well, Kurt the name of your band was better than any name I can think of for a band. Nirvana is a place we all want to reach, but few of us do...without the help of opiates. Even with the help of opiates Nirvana is reached for only a few hours. Using opiates is not true Nirvana, only those who have experienced Nirvana would truly know.
Sorry people, its come over me again, the monthly obsession with a dead rock star, who people thought was a total black star, in a band called Nirvana
I've come to the conclusion that the reason I obsess over Kurt Cobain's life and death. Yesterday in the new group I must go to on Monday's at the Methadone clinic from 9-11 where we "open up" and tell each other our most inner darkest secrets. Yesterday we had to fill out a worksheet about what keeps us using. What is our crutch that we say we can't get over, so we are entitled to use. We all wrote ours down, and then had to go around the table and read them out loud. I had no idea we would have read them out loud. I wrote about my unhealthy obsession with Kurt Cobain, and how I mourn his death more than my own sister's death. How after my sister died six years ago, I started to really not give a fuck. Life isn't fair, we all die it is inevitable. There is no reason I should feel guilty for taking my dad's pain pills, there is no reason at all, in fact for the for the three days before the funeral, and the week after, my parents were giving me Oxycontin, and sleeping pills. I had no idea how to process my sisters death. I remember sitting in her room after she died, and just smelling her clothes, and I wrote her a note that went into the casket with her.
So imagine me reading the short version of this out loud in front of a group of 10 15 people. I was the last person to have to read mine out loud, and I didn't think anything of it. Its the truth, and I was just going to say out loud the truth. When it got to me, and I mentioned that I grieve over Kurt Cobain, a person I never met, who would have hated me, more than my own sister. Someone I grew up with , and loved dearly, and whom I know loved me dearly.
Suddenly while reading this in front of everyone I burst into tears, and then sobs. I had to walk out of the room. I ended up having to breath into a paper bag from hyperventilating. Then the nurse who holds the groups, leaves the room to help me, while everyone in the room is sitting there wondering wtf came over her. Blah, Blah, Blah! I kept telling her to go back to group and we can talk after group. So she went back to group, and took off fast, and got out of their as fast as I could.
I knew why I broke down like that. I never dealt with my sister Angie's death properly. I used opiates to cover up the emotional pain I felt. Even while high I felt the loss of Angie, but I never went through the 5 steps of grieving. Neither did my father, he just used his pills more and more. My mom did though. Now she is the only one of us who isn't depressed, or Bi Polar...ah well the Bi Polar thing started before my sisters death, but still both me and my father are suicidal, and even sometimes homicidal. My dad is mostly the homicidal one. I don't want to kill anyone, but myself.
FUCK.....................I just want to be a kid again. I want to feel safe, and not trapped again. I want to between one and four again. Before long term memories began to form. Two would be perfect, because I was 13 months old when my sister was born, so I could have my little sister to play with again. We had lots of fun as children.
I have to pee,
All my love,