Who is Cyn? Part Two: Deeper Into Cyn

Posted by Cynthia Moreno on

Soon after my divorce was final, I met my 2nd husband...


cyn after surgery all thin and cute

after my surgery right before meeting my 2nd husband.

We met the first time I went out after my divorce was final. We spent the night together but didn't have sex. We talked all night. I felt like I might have someone who understood me. The reality was he was someone who hated himself too. How could he love me? How could we love each other? We both had too much hate inside for self. It was never going to work. But we didn't know so we forged forward. 

6 months into our relationship and he moved in with me. Not because we were deliriously happy, but because his lease was up and well...why not? During the time between husbands I had hurt my knee and the doctor had given me pain pills. Over the years I had used drugs recreationally. I wasn't any where near addict use and I thought they were a fun way to forget the crap in my head temporarily. My biological father was an alcoholic and my mother's brother died from alcoholism so I wasn't keen on booze. Then I found pain killers. 

I loved pain killers. By pain killers I mean the strong stuff...not the crap I would take years later but the stuff they give cancer patients. The medicine numbed me. When I took them it felt like a warm blanket covering me from the inside out. I would take two and I knew they kicked in when that warm feeling would spread through my limbs. It felt like being in a hot tub, floating, without a care in the world. While I was in that space, I would forget all about the hate I felt inside for myself. I loved myself. Or so I thought. 

I really just loved not having to think or feel real emotions. It was a soft, warm glow that no one or nothing had ever given me in my life. It's making my mouth water as I type this because my body remembers. But too bad, body! 

Anyway, I had been playing around with the pain killers when I met my 2nd husband. It turned out that he also loved pain killers but he knew ways how to make them make me feel even better. 

A bit of a disclaimer: My ex is a good person. He has a good heart. He loved me the best way he could. He's not an evil person and he was only trying to help me. He didn't intend for the things that followed to happen. I know he would never have done it, if he had known. I don't blame him for any of the things I did. I chose to do it all. In fact, I insisted pretty fucking hard when he tried to dissuade me. 

My ex was a recovering heroin addict when we met. I had never done it and I swore I would never ever put a needle in my arm for a good time. I was appalled at the idea. But by this point the hatred was so intense for myself that I was desperate to make it stop. I was desperate to feel SOMETHING. ANYTHING. 

By now I had two kids that were staying with my parents pretty much all of the time. I was working full time and when I wasn't I was using drugs. When people would call me out, I would say...

"I'm having the fun I didn't have as a teenager because I had a kid at 19".

But I was really chasing self-love, I just didn't know it then. 

I did what I always do when I become obsessed with something, I dove deep. I shot up Cocaine, Heroin and then my beloved pain killers. When I found out I could shoot them...I did. I shot them all. As much as I could get my hands on. I fell deep into a horrific addiction that left me at 108 pounds. I was the thinnest I had ever been in my life. I had a flat tummy. I was past my goal weight of 124 lbs.

cyn getting married all skinny and sick

On my wedding day to my second husband. Still not as thin and sickly as I would become a mere 3 months after this photo was taken. I was high af in this photo as I said my vows...

I looked disgusting. I got much thinner after my wedding but I don't have any photos of that time because I was gray. I looked sick. I was beyond miserable. I was using drugs to make myself feel good but it wasn't working anymore. It was months of destroying my looks and making me a step above the Crypt Keeper. I was 30 years old. 

One day I sat with my new husband in our disgusting home and talked about running away. I remember telling him how badly I wanted to run away. He looked at me and said "You can't out run yourself". 

He was right. So I tried to end my life. I had a fresh prescription of 160 pain killers in my hands. I don't know how many I took. I just remember eating one after the other while I sat there talking to him. In his defense he was high as a kite. We had shot up before the conversation started. He wasn't paying attention to me. He was staring at the clock trying to figure out long until we could shoot again and taking his pulse. And I ate a lot of pills in a short time. 

We went to Walgreens for something. I had to pee. I remember being in the stall and hearing someone come into the bathroom and I tried to get up off the toilet and I hit the side of the stall wall, hard. That's all I remember. The next day I woke up in ICU with a breathing tube up my nose and down my throat to my lungs. I remember waking up and trying to cough. I couldn't, obviously, and I pulled the tube out of my nose and throat. The nurses came running frantically because they had told my parents and my new husband that I wouldn't wake up. But I did. 


The Universe wasn't done with me.


I cried hard when they finally left me alone. I was alive. I was grateful. I had to stop the madness. I could not allow for my life to continue the way was going. I had another chance. I wasn't going to waste that shit.

When they finally discharged me, I went home and told my ex,

"We need to leave. We can't get clean here and I can't use drugs anymore." 

I was still hating myself but I was desperate to love myself. We left the country. I walked away from my job, a house that I owned and every possession I had. My parents agreed to take care of my kids while I cleaned myself up. I left America with one suitcase. I took a picture of my kids and a handful of clothes and went to Europe. We lost everything. My ex is European so we went to his home country where my in-laws took us in and let us kick drugs there. 

By this time we had been together for 3 years. During the time we were getting clean, we "fell in love". We had gone through a traumatic experience together and then got clean together. It felt like love. I still hadn't learned to love myself so how could I really love him? It was the closest thing I had ever had to it and I grabbed it with two hands and held on tight. 

We got our shit together and our son was born in 2007.  We moved to Ireland shortly after he was born, with two of our three kids and we were happy(ish). Until the day I got antsy again. I realized that something was missing. What was up with me?

In Ireland I went into a used bookstore that I frequented often. I love to read so I bought and sold a lot of books there. I found an old Tony Robbins CD that they were selling for $1 because it was a bootleg copy. I snatched it up. I was still desperately trying to love myself and I was starting to think a lot about drugs again. I was desperate to start feeling something. I wasn't feeling love for myself or my husband. I loved my kids but it wasn't fulfilling me. It wasn't enough.

I found that CD and I listened to it over and over and over again. I knew it by heart but I still listened to it. Because of that CD, I was able to stay clean. Tony preached that if I was unhappy I had to change my state. So I did. I found ways to be happy. That's when I got a laptop. I started writing. At first I was writing poems and that lead to blogging. But I was shit at it. I didn't know what to write and thought...

"Who the eff gives a shit what I have to say about anything? I'm nobody"

But that was because I had no focus. I had no clarity. I STILL hated myself, my body and my life. I was dressing nice, doing Pilates, Yoga but the hate was there. I tore myself down from the time I woke up in the morning until I went to bed. For everything.

Oops I forgot the milk at the store...."Oh My God, Mimi, You're such a stupid idiot" 

I didn't finish the laundry before bed..."Oh My God Mimi, you're so fucking stupid"

I didn't clean the living room before someone came by..."Oh my God Mimi, You're such an idiot loser"

I didn't lose the amount of weight I was aiming for in a week..."Oh my God Mimi, you're such a fat piece of shit". 

and on and on....

things I would NEVER say to another human being but they were my normal talk. Every day. All day. Over every thing.

I'm crying again. This shit hurts to write. I hated myself so much and right now I am hugging myself and reminding myself that this was the past, and it was all lies I was saying to myself.

I'm actually pretty fucking smart. Even though I was a high school drop out, I went to college and was on the Dean's List every semester and I graduated with Honors. I learn super fast and I take a lot of pride in knowing a lot about a variety of subjects. Remember, I was a chubby kid who read non-stop. I love books and I always have. I always will. I love learning. If a stranger called me stupid I'd have been infuriated and cussed them out but I was ok saying it to myself.

In 2013 we moved back to America and I let myself go again. At first I tried to keep up with the trends and stay true to myself but I was more miserable in Florida than I had been in Ireland. My ex was right, I couldn't out run myself. I was moving often and still hating myself.

cyn when she was fat

not my heaviest but I was full of self-hatred..

It got worse when we moved in with my parents in 2015. We were trying to save money for something big, a house, another move, who knows. All I remember is tucking every cent away because I was going to do something huge. I had so many big dreams even then. One of my biggest dreams is to travel. When we lived in Ireland it was easy and cheaper to travel around Europe. I was blessed with the opportunity to visit the countries I had read about and dreamed about as a child. We spent a lot of time traveling and I loved it. It was such a great time for me even if I was hating my body.

In Florida, there was no culture. I was back in the tiny town I had run away from a bunch of times. The place I had run from to get clean and sober. I was back and miserable, again. One day I got the idea to find help. I was sick and tired. I was tired of being sick and tired. I picked up my phone and opened YouTube and searched "How to be happy".

That search changed my entire life.

Part Three: Love The Cyn You're In...

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