This comes from a place of truth. Raw, desperate, pleading. Your writing tells it like it is and emphasizes the danger and destruction while exploring the deadly lure.
Your words have a concise air to them. Yet, they throw hands. This was dark, terrifying, and offered hope. How you keep a photo in your AA chip box, offers a sense of what works for you to others. And I can see how that might be a remembrance similar to the Chips we receive in recovery.
This line though,
“I don’t need a coffee. Not today.
I need you to send this to a friend who might need”
This is exactly it. This is my message, too. This is not about likes or subs. This is about a message that could the life raft someone needs to continue to hold on for one more day. To find the courage to say “NO MORE!” To themselves or someone else. And that’s what this platform should be about ❣️
Sharing my work below on MutedCulture, in hopes that people read it and do the same thing Cyn asks of you, too. One share, or many, you don’t who’s waiting to find it today. Thank you for being here in this space.
Hi Jules, so glad our paths crossed. Congrats on the 7 years! that's a lucky #. I'm on year 5 (after many relapses). Thank you for reading and sharing your link. I'm soaking up your page now... love sober talk. 💗
That is amaaaaazing!! Congratulations on number 5, girl. That is something to be celebrated every day. I am so so so stoked I found your page. It’s truly a reflection of myself. Sub stack bestie in process ❣️
Your words cut deep. They burn with truth, and I feel every syllable in my bones. I’m so sorry for what you’ve endured, and for what your friend is facing now. No one deserves this. You are brave beyond measure for speaking it aloud, for surviving, and for choosing to heal.
Your story stirred my own Pandora’s box. I lost someone dear... Dominick James Summa, on Father’s Day, 2005, to a drive-by shooting. His fiancée, Kristiane Ann Glaze (8/24/82–5/18/23), was showing off her engagement ring. Day later at the memorial when someone she trusted got her drunk... no meant yes.....She had no one left. I lost her for years… until Hurricane Harvey in 2017, my spirit guide brought he to me. What I found broke me: gaslit, bruised, black-eyed, hair missing. I did my best to protect her, I was able to remove the harm. But vodka took her in the end. She died a ward of the state. No funeral. No goodbye.
My pain is not yours, but it echoes. It stains the soul. And your words remind me that we must keep speaking, keep remembering, keep loving those who are still here.
I’ll hold you and your friend in my thoughts. I know how tricky the brain can be... how it bargains, forgets, forgives too soon. But I believe healing is possible. During the recent Hill Country floods, 6/4/25, I dreamed of the baby girls swept away… and in that dream, Nick and Kristiane were holding them close., phew, I'm leaking out my eyes.
So I offer this small prayer, in the spirit of Wicca and the old ways:
Steve, oh my what a tragic story. Thank you for sharing this… painful all the same. My brother is Wiccan, and I do that prayer with him often. I share your tears. 💞
It is not easy to find the words but you did. I got out of a relationship similar to this. Glad you voiced this. I truly hope it is read by those who need this. ❤️
This piece is a wound speaking in its own voice, but it’s also a lifeline. The way you move from confession to command, from memory to warning, carries the authority of someone who has crawled out of the fire and refuses to leave others inside.
After I saw my friend this way I couldn’t stop the words from clawing their way out… thanks so much for reading and seeing the structure how it birthed on the page. 🖤
wow. this one resonates so much. i had been thinking a lot about what happened - what made me leave my marriage and started on this new chapter in life. there are days where i doubt myself, where i think hmmm was it all that bad? my life was beautiful from the outside. but there was nothing left of me in there.
this is a beautiful, painful reminder. thank you, cyn. love you always 🫶🏼
It’s shocking how sometimes we ask ourselves was it really that bad. I still do with this arena as well as my drinking and drugging. Like still partly in denial or disassociation. Because what’s worse for me than claiming victim is knowing that I stayed in all the shit… even the current ex that’s not an ex… before running… god it’s liberating when we do. Love you G. 🖤
Thank you for saying this out loud. It hits like a punch, but it’s also a lifeline. What you’ve written reminds anyone who’s hurting that survival isn’t shameful it’s brave, and worth fighting for.✨
This resonates so deeply sacred soul.💜🫂
💞
This comes from a place of truth. Raw, desperate, pleading. Your writing tells it like it is and emphasizes the danger and destruction while exploring the deadly lure.
Hi Stephanie, yes, this one was pushed out raw, no edits… just the bone truth.
Wow, wow, wow, CYN!!!!!
Your words have a concise air to them. Yet, they throw hands. This was dark, terrifying, and offered hope. How you keep a photo in your AA chip box, offers a sense of what works for you to others. And I can see how that might be a remembrance similar to the Chips we receive in recovery.
This line though,
“I don’t need a coffee. Not today.
I need you to send this to a friend who might need”
This is exactly it. This is my message, too. This is not about likes or subs. This is about a message that could the life raft someone needs to continue to hold on for one more day. To find the courage to say “NO MORE!” To themselves or someone else. And that’s what this platform should be about ❣️
Sharing my work below on MutedCulture, in hopes that people read it and do the same thing Cyn asks of you, too. One share, or many, you don’t who’s waiting to find it today. Thank you for being here in this space.
Xo, Jules
https://open.substack.com/pub/mutedculture/p/recovery-journal-entry-one-a-seven?r=68moeq&utm_medium=ios
Hi Jules, so glad our paths crossed. Congrats on the 7 years! that's a lucky #. I'm on year 5 (after many relapses). Thank you for reading and sharing your link. I'm soaking up your page now... love sober talk. 💗
That is amaaaaazing!! Congratulations on number 5, girl. That is something to be celebrated every day. I am so so so stoked I found your page. It’s truly a reflection of myself. Sub stack bestie in process ❣️
reading your next post. can’t stop. 😍
Your friend is lucky to have you. And so are we! 💕
💕
You are an amazing poet!
why thanks Chris. that’s a very kind compliment. 🖤
😊
Dear Ms. Bougie Hippie,
Your words cut deep. They burn with truth, and I feel every syllable in my bones. I’m so sorry for what you’ve endured, and for what your friend is facing now. No one deserves this. You are brave beyond measure for speaking it aloud, for surviving, and for choosing to heal.
Your story stirred my own Pandora’s box. I lost someone dear... Dominick James Summa, on Father’s Day, 2005, to a drive-by shooting. His fiancée, Kristiane Ann Glaze (8/24/82–5/18/23), was showing off her engagement ring. Day later at the memorial when someone she trusted got her drunk... no meant yes.....She had no one left. I lost her for years… until Hurricane Harvey in 2017, my spirit guide brought he to me. What I found broke me: gaslit, bruised, black-eyed, hair missing. I did my best to protect her, I was able to remove the harm. But vodka took her in the end. She died a ward of the state. No funeral. No goodbye.
My pain is not yours, but it echoes. It stains the soul. And your words remind me that we must keep speaking, keep remembering, keep loving those who are still here.
I’ll hold you and your friend in my thoughts. I know how tricky the brain can be... how it bargains, forgets, forgives too soon. But I believe healing is possible. During the recent Hill Country floods, 6/4/25, I dreamed of the baby girls swept away… and in that dream, Nick and Kristiane were holding them close., phew, I'm leaking out my eyes.
So I offer this small prayer, in the spirit of Wicca and the old ways:
“Spirits of water, carry the pain away.
Spirits of wind, bring breath to the broken.
Spirits of fire, burn the chains.
Spirits of earth, root us in love.
And may the ancestors guide us home.”
Much respect and love,
Steve
Steve, oh my what a tragic story. Thank you for sharing this… painful all the same. My brother is Wiccan, and I do that prayer with him often. I share your tears. 💞
It is not easy to find the words but you did. I got out of a relationship similar to this. Glad you voiced this. I truly hope it is read by those who need this. ❤️
Hi Brenda - thanks for reading and sharing that - knowing we and others are healing and on a recovery journey together here warms me.
I walked out, six months pregnant, after the second slap. Because if I didn't, I was going to kill him.
Rea, thank you for reading and sharing that. Every time we can link pain I believe we can heal a little more from it. 🖤
This piece is a wound speaking in its own voice, but it’s also a lifeline. The way you move from confession to command, from memory to warning, carries the authority of someone who has crawled out of the fire and refuses to leave others inside.
After I saw my friend this way I couldn’t stop the words from clawing their way out… thanks so much for reading and seeing the structure how it birthed on the page. 🖤
🙏❤️❤️❤️
wow. this one resonates so much. i had been thinking a lot about what happened - what made me leave my marriage and started on this new chapter in life. there are days where i doubt myself, where i think hmmm was it all that bad? my life was beautiful from the outside. but there was nothing left of me in there.
this is a beautiful, painful reminder. thank you, cyn. love you always 🫶🏼
It’s shocking how sometimes we ask ourselves was it really that bad. I still do with this arena as well as my drinking and drugging. Like still partly in denial or disassociation. Because what’s worse for me than claiming victim is knowing that I stayed in all the shit… even the current ex that’s not an ex… before running… god it’s liberating when we do. Love you G. 🖤
Thank you for saying this out loud. It hits like a punch, but it’s also a lifeline. What you’ve written reminds anyone who’s hurting that survival isn’t shameful it’s brave, and worth fighting for.✨
thanks my friend. this was the fastest one I’ve ever written- words just slammed on the keys - but the hardest to hit post.
I’m glad u hit post 🫶🏼✨
Beautiful and deep. Thanks for sharing these words.
Thank you Cyn!
“Words As Weapons” WAW to
Words Offer Wellness WOW
We do this one day at a time.
BRUISES
WINs to:
B U RISE S
B
U (You) so you
RISE
Sanely, Safely, Securely, and Serenly.
CYN you name embraces is so much beautiful energy.
C (See ) You in all you do to help Nourish others and yourself.
❤️
always love your interpretations of words. so fun.
Sweet thanks Bougie Hippie! My pleasure!
Word after word we WOW together!
🤗
I wish I could hug you.
Here's the best alternative I have right now🫂
abrazos virtuales querido
Thank you. ❤️🩹
„Or maybe we see it ~ we feel their pain ~ and that’s the hook.
Because we’ve been trying to fix our wounded childhoods
through men who echo the same goddamn wounds.“
My favorite lines. I guess it always starts with that. You captured this subject so profound. Thank you for sharing, Cyn!!
Thanks my Wildflower... glad this resonated as I resonate with so much of what you write. 💜