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JESSICA IRENE
About Me
Hi, I’m Jessica Irene—writer, survivor, volunteer, and Public Health NurseI don’t tell my story because it’s easy. I tell it because for too long, I didn’t.For years, I lived through what I couldn’t name-abuse, addiction, silence, survival. I learned how to function through pain, how to smile through trauma, and how to carry a lifetime of wounds without making a sound.But silence doesn’t heal. It festers. And eventually, the truth, raw, holy, and unflinching, came rushing in.My healing didn’t come wrapped in pretty language or polished faith. It came in pieces. In breaking. In rebuilding. In finally calling things what they were and letting the light in.Writing became the place where I reclaimed my voice. It’s where pain met purpose. Where the girl who survived learned to become the woman who speaks.Now, I write for the ones still finding their way through the dark. I write for daughters. For mothers. For anyone who’s ever carried shame that didn’t belong to them. And through Crystal Clear and everything that follows, I’m here to say: you’re not alone, and your story matters.Thanks for being here.
APRIL 2025
His meth addiction was a tidal wave, crashing through their lives, leaving nothing untouched. Jessica held on; through the paranoia, the threats, and the night a knife turned love into terror; believing her loyalty could save him. But love doesn’t bend addiction, and survival isn’t the same as living.In this searing memoir, Jessica Irene traces a path from a childhood of unspoken rules and buried pain to a marriage unraveling in the grip of meth’s chaos. What she thought was devotion was a trap, built on wounds she didn’t see until they bled. His addiction didn’t just shatter their world; it forced her to face the mirror, to unearth the strength she’d buried, to fight not for him but for herself.Crystal Clear is a story of breaking free, forged by her own will and grit. Raw, messy, and relentlessly honest, it’s a testament to resilience, a lifeline for those lost in the shadows of someone else’s storm, and a hard-won clarity that sometimes, the darkest ruin is where you find your light.
This is for anyone loving an addict or carrying unhealed trauma into current relationships. A guide through the chaos, a whisper of hope from someone who’s been there.
His Addiction, My Recovery is a powerful, unfiltered journey through love, loss, and self-discovery. This collection of raw, emotionally charged poetry captures the silent battles fought in the shadows of addiction, grieving the life you imagined, untangling codependency, and reclaiming your sense of self.Each poem is a reflection of the heart's quiet revolution: setting boundaries, confronting hard truths, and walking away from the person you swore you'd never leave. From the weight of trying to “save” someone else to the quiet courage it takes to finally choose yourself, these verses will resonate with anyone who has ever had to heal from love that hurt.His Addiction, My Recovery isn’t just about endings, it’s about beginnings. It’s about the strength it takes to break free from cycles of pain and the beauty that can be found in broken places. Through honest reflection and tender resolve, these words remind us that while addiction may destroy, recovery rebuilds.For those seeking healing, strength, or a reminder that growth can come from grief, this book offers a place to rest and reflect. With themes of love, loss, and renewal, His Addiction, My Recovery is an anthem for anyone who has ever had to let go of someone else to hold on to themselves.
Younger Me:
If I say no, will they still care?
If I stop giving, will they be there?
I’ve always bent, I’ve always tried,
To keep them close, to keep them tied.I smile, I nod, I play my part,
I hold my tongue, I hide my heart.
I make them happy, dim my light,
But why do I still feel so tight?Older Me:
Oh, little love, I know this game,
The way we shrink to dodge the blame.
The way we twist, the way we mold,
To fit the shape that keeps them whole.But love, real love, should never ask,
For you to wear another’s mask.
You are not here to heal their wounds,
To play the sun, to fix their moons.Younger Me:
But what if leaving makes me bad?
What if they’re hurt? What if they’re mad?
What if I stand and they walk away?
Will I be lost? Will I be okay?
Older Me:
We are not mirrors, not their glue,
Not vessels built to just push through.
We are allowed to put us first,
To break the chains, to quench our thirst.If they leave, my love, let them go,
Their love was built on what we’d show.
But those who stay, the ones who see,
Will love us whole, will let us be.Younger Me:
So I don’t have to play pretend?
To give, to please, to just defend?
I can be me, and still have worth,
And still find love upon this earth?Older Me:
Yes, my love, you are enough,
No need to beg, no need to bluff.
Stand in truth, in light, in peace,
No more pleasing, love, be free.
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