By: Denise N. Fyffe

Janet was lying awake thinking about her future, and how much more damage she was going to do to it.

“Can I and will I do my worse?” Janet thought.

It seems every time she gets close to something that she really wants or someone she was really into it gets pulled from her. And when she begins to care about someone, and for whatever reason it doesn’t work out; she gets into a pattern of self-destructive behavior.

“Damn it,” she cursed.

Certainly it seems she is not exempt from suffering heartbreak from the hands of vile Jamaican men. She was so over it, over them! Though her heart seems to be shielding itself in its own panic room, it was already wounded and bleeding out. How then can it receive treatment? Janet was certain, only love could heal her wounds.

Self destructive as she has been, she is certain her actions were making matters worst within her. The antics, and indulgences, were simple band aids to an internal bleeding. Unnecessary and inept. As smart and perceptive as she was, she was fully cognisant of the snakes pit she was leading herself to.

But how could she turn away, turn off, or turn around? How could she stop herself from always choosing the self-destructive alternatives?

There is more to the root of her evils; but even she is sometimes blinded to that cause.