Nameless

I got to see my baby tonight!! Oh and my boyfriend, Jess, was there too, heh.  He’s officially put up with my bullshit for two years, today. Shit has been really rough these past couple months and it’s not going to get any easier for at least another three months but today I am grateful to have him in my life. It’s really comforting to know that although I have to wake up alone for now, I can rest assured that my best friend/lover is rolling over thinking of me too.  I love you, baby.

not worth the glance,

Seriously, ha. I don’t log on as much as I used to. I just don’t seem to have the time, really. I would like to post an update, for memory’s sake, if nothing else. Some much as changes but so much as stayed the same. I can hardly ever remember what I’ve already posted about so forgive me if this gets repetitive. It’s been about a month since I got out of rehab. It was a terrible experience to say the least. I was only able to stay a week because I don’t have insurance. I didn’t even make it that long though. On day six they sent me to a mental hospital and it was there that Jess, my boyfriend picked me up. I suppose they thought my mental state made me a danger to myself and others? Whatever the reason I was transported two hours back to Nashville and once there I refused to be admitted and had Jess come get me. My parents were gracious enough to allow me to stay at home until I find a job, which has been much harder than I thought it would be. I do have an interview tomorrow, though. I was hoping to get away from the restaurant business but I need a job so I am more than grateful for the opportunity. Jessie got a job today! I am so proud of him. It’s at a granite shop he used to work at making 15$+ an hour. The shop opens in a week or so then we will be back on our feet! I just got off the phone with him, actually. He said he’s especially happy about this job because it’s making enough to where we can get married this calendar year, or at least engaged. That really made me happy. I love when he brings our future up. It shows me that he really wants me in his life. I know he does, but reassurance always feels nice. Right now he’s not allowed at my house and I’m not allowed at his. His mother feels it is unhealthy for us to spend time together. That no longer matters though, because she kicked him out three days ago. They were arguing and he said “it’s shit like this that makes me want to use, mom”, she took that as him saying she is why he used so she immediately told him to leave. I was outside waiting for him and she followed him out the door yelling. So I yelled back, “Stop, we’re leaving!” She then tried to attack me. No, seriously. Jess was holding her back so she started choking him. It was the craziest mother/offspring fight I have ever been around. I thought I had seen some shit with Destiny’s mother but she just overreacted because of the love she had for her daughter. Shona, Jess’ mother, is just fucking insane and frankly, lucky I respect Jess enough not to flip my shit in front of his mother. I swear, I’m getting pissed off just thinking about how that woman treats her children. Needless to say, he’s staying with a buddy of ours until he gets his first check and can rent a place out. I have such wonderful parents. That is one thing I’ve learned through the years with all my friends/girlfriend/boyfriends parents hating me. My parents may not have liked my friends but they never talked ugly about them or disrespected them. I know they love me so much. They kicked me out right before I went to rehab and honestly that probably saved my life. I know it was terribly hard for them to do but they loved me so much they were willing to break their own hearts in a desperate attempt to save mine. After everything I’ve put them through it amazes me how much they still love me, and continue to show me love. If I could have anything in the world, it would be to somehow renew the happiness my parents once knew together. It really upsets me to know how unhappy they are. In fact, I’d rather not talk about it. There is so much I miss from the life I used to live. I miss when hangovers were the worst thing that could happen to me if I got fucked up. When I was getting dope sick every single day, all I could think about was how I wished I was a normal 21 year old out partying, drinking, dancing not fucking shooting dope praying I had a get well shot for the next morning. I miss having money, saving money. I miss going shopping, going out to eat with friends, all that normal shit. I miss Destiny. I miss sleepovers. With that said, now that I’m clean and done with all the dope shit there are things in my life now that I wouldn’t have had if I didn’t fall so far away. Like, the friends I’ve met in meetings, and as ignorant as it sounds, the knowledge/maturity going through all that shit has given me. It forced me to grow up way too quickly. I can’t dwell on that because no matter how upset I get, I will never get that time back. All I can do is look forward to tomorrow and be thankful I wake up feeling somewhat normal, instead of needing a shot to even drive my damn car to get to work, much less actually work. I can’t tell you how good it feels to know that in the morning I can roll out of bed, take a deep breath, and just be me. By no means am I happy, there is still so much work I have to do on myself to restore any kind of mental stability but I can rest assured that at least now I have the chance to do so.

Cause and Effect

I’m writing from my bed, again. Writing is always beneficial but sometimes I’m too lazy for pencil and paper.

Today was full. We went to lunch, bought Layla new clothes, races go karts, saw a Beatles tribute concert, browsed Broadway and Printers Ally, and rode the bus. Justin and Layla both hurt my feelings today. Layla hardly counts though because she’s a child. Justin verbalized his opinion about my evening plans. Originally, I wanted the concert to be date night. I forgot to tell Justin that, so when we could find a baby sitter, he suggested she come with us. To make up for the loss of a date night, I suggested we make it a dress up date. I wanted to dress nice, go to a fancy dinner spot, then go to the concert. He was fine with that at first. He asked if Layla could wear her overalls. I said that’s not pretty fine dining attire. He was that opinion was stupid then became suddenly ill with me. When we got home, I said I didn’t want to go because he was grumpy. I started crying. He apologize. I took a nap. We ended up just going to the concert. It was all right. It just wasn’t the evening I was hoping for.

What I’m trying to figure out is why it escalated so quickly. Daddy always says “there’s nothing to figure out,” but I’d like to know the ingredients that called for such a rapid escalation. I have a few theories. First, i could be extra sensitive due to my period being just around the corner. Two, he was exhausted and frustrated from the small money tiff we got in this morning. Three, I heard the word “stupid” and took the conversation somewhere he never intended to go. Brandon’s usage of that word towards me scarred me, no doubt. It all began when he mocked my sleeping pattern this morning. He was thrown off by the fact that on my only day off of the week, I wanted to sleep in past 10. Yes, I sleep more than most, but my responsibilities are always taken care of, so why doesn’t it matter? Anyway, after he made such a big deal out of it, I got up. We rushed to shop without coffee or time for me to wake up. I believe that was a bad start. Less learned. My period is out of my control. My sponsor says with time I’ll adjust to it, and it won’t be such an issue. If the answer is three, that requires he most work. I feel I should let him know that he handled his frustrations wrong. I’m hoping tomorrow I’ll know what caused it.

What I’m sure of is that I can’t blame him for not knowing I wanted a date night. I didn’t tell him. It’s ludicrous to put expectations on someone without telling them.

He did offer to buy me things all day at the mall. He knows I’m broke. That was sweet. He also massages my shoulder tonight. I told him I pulled it and needed it to be rubbed. I’m not sure it helped though.

I took my nursing entrance exam and scored with the top 8% of the nation! I wanted to write more, but I’m getting tired.

one rut or another

If there is one thing I know how to do without a doubt, it’s fuck up my life. And that my friends is not a skill that can be turned into an asset. I won’t give up. They say to use is to die and I’m not sure about all that but I know using wasn’t solving any of my problems at least not long term anyway. Nothing will ever come close to the warmth in your chest when you slide that needle out of your neck. It may have been a while since I’ve pulled a needle out of my neck but that doesn’t mean that everything about it is healed. I’m at an NA conference with my new halfway house. I’ve ran into two people I used to get high with. One looks really good, the other looks like he/she has been through hell so I’m happy that when shit hits the fan this where he/she ended up. I’m alone and I’m empty, but I’m clean today. I can be grateful for that if nothing else. My selfish ass can’t help but think about how I’ll ever live without my emotional numbing medication. It hides even the worst of tragedies from me if only for a moment, it seems worth it. However, I’m destroying myself and those around me. My health was/is declining, my family has to be more important than that desire. This new halfway house is in Madison which is closer to Jess and my family. It’s called RCI. Recovery Community Inc. They made me quit my job. They said I don’t need to be in the serving industry for at least 3 months. I make too much money to fast apparently and there just happens to be dope there. Often times. It’s everywhere just more accessible in restaurants sometimes. So, I don’t have a job which makes me feel all the more worthless. My mind never stops bouncing in and out of using and not picking up. What a miserable place to be, mentally. There are some people that broke me in high school and even since then. Some that I’ll never forgive and I still wouldn’t wish this on them, on my worst enemies. This life means an uncertain death. When you’re using you know your breaths are numbered due to the dope slowly suffocating you. In sobriety they seem to be just as numbered only now it’s my own mind that is suffocating me. Living seems too hard at times. But I am not a coward. I’m a junkie, I’m a slut, I’m a liar, I’m a thief, I am scared, but I am not a coward. Things with my boyfriend went from beautiful to heart breaking so quickly I almost forgot why. I love him and I know he loves me so we are working past it whether or not this is his last chance, I won’t know until that time comes but things have gotten better almost just as quickly as they had gotten worse. And I am grateful for that, as well. He’s my support. He’s my heart. I’m not willing to let that go today. That’s all I want to say on that subject. It’s not even one o’clock yet and I’ve ran out of things to do to look busy. Pretty soon I’ll have losers hitting on me and kiss asses dragging me into activities. You know your appearance has taken a nose dive by the guys that his on you. I’m not sure If that comes across the way I want it to but, what the hell. Who do I really have to impress anymore? Sobriety has taken almost just as much as addiction did. In sobriety my parents took my car, my house director took my job, I don’t have a home, and I barely have a boyfriend, I suppose the friends I had out there weren’t real friends but they were there and now there is no one there, ever. If you’re trying to get clean, don’t take any of this to heart. I’m so grateful to not be waiting for the dope man in 30 degree weather. I’m so glad to have clean clothes to wear. I’m so happy to wake up without needing a shot to get out of bed. And I am aware that everything is going to be okay. It’s just making it to that point.

pharaphernalia

Mint chocolate chip to the right, chapstick to the left, looking good.  Except, I need a towel and my towels are in the washer right now.  I’ll probably just roll around on my bed.  What am I saying?  Maybe I should go.

What is it like to have a best friend?

I’ve wondered that my entire life. It appears I expect too much. My best friend’s exhusband was just released from jail. She’s back hanging on his every word which means I’m lucky to get a text back. I’m used to it by now. He leaves: she’s mine. He comes back: he’s hers. My sponsor says I’m begin selfish about the entire situation. I’ve cried with her over how much of a shitbag he is for years now. I feel it’s only normal for me to grow tired of this cycle. When I analyze why I feel such a resentment towards his release, I do find that it’s rooted in jealousy. Jealous, at its core, is a selfish emotion. Great. I’m selfish. Now, what? Why do I require so much attention? Mary Ann didn’t invite me out tonight or last night. Kennie leigh didn’t tell me she was going to Chicago. Why does that make me feel like I’m not good enough? One might argue that after I learn to love myself I won’t need so many people to prove to me that they love me. Sure. I’ll buy that. But why then, after three and a half years of step work, prayer, and meetings, do I still feel as alone as I did from the start? I have a theory, one the usually proves true. I’ll start my period next week. Wild emotions always show their colors the week before my period. So much so, that I can’t remember how I felt before. Did Maryann’s absence of an invitation bother me last week? I’m honestly not sure. That’s what’s so bizzare about mental illness, if that’s what this is. I heard in a meeting Thursday that the most insidious characteristic of the disease of addiction is its ability to convince you you’re not sick. When you have cancer, your white blood cell count proves your sick. The weakness in your limbs reminds you constantly that you need medication. Addiction turns a bad day into a bad life in an instance. After an hour, you’ve convinced yourself that you were never sick to begin with, you’re just equipped with faulty machinery that will never function properly, despite the maintenance. On contraire, the truth is cancer patients need chemotherapy, and addicts need one another.

Tomorrow, or maybe next week, I’ll find humor in how hopeless I’m feeling right now, but what do I do in the mean time? Hang on, of course. Don’t use. That’s not even on the radar. Pray, always. I just want a group of people that are going to surround me for years to come, people that never make me question their love for me, people that rejoice and cry with me, people that don’t hurt me. Maybe, that’s the answer! Maybe that doesn’t exist. If I am asking for people who provide divine friendship, I’m not really asking for people, am I?

This is what I’ve missed about an online journal. Sometimes, I’m too tired or lazy to go sit under a lamp and put pencil to paper. It’s not often that I’m too lazy to stare at my phone. Here I am, laying next to husband of 20 days, in a dark bedroom, at 11pm, pouring my heart out to God, myself, and whoever else cares to listen.

How intriguing! That last sentence alone gave me enough gratitude to lift my chin from the dust. Even if it only lasts a moment, I’m reminded of how blessed I am. My bed is so comfortable. There’s a clock sitting on my dresser so I can tell the time at all hours of the night. That’s important, you see, because for a long time, it didn’t matter what the time was. As a matter of fact there were only two times in my previous life. If I was well, it was time to scheme money for when I inevitably became dope sick. If I was sick, it was time cop dope. It didn’t matter if the sun was out or not. It didn’t matter if I had money or not. It didn’t matter if I had been asleep yet. There was never enough daylight, money, or sleep to make up for the way I was living my life.

There’s my answer. It doesn’t matter what it feels like to have a best friend. That’s not why I’m here. I’m here to make this world a better place. I don’t need a best friend to do that. I need gratitude and God. As long as I have that, I’ve received more than I was promised. The promise Narcotics Anonymous gave me was that I would have freedom from active addiction. That’s it. It doesn’t matter if I get into nursing school. It doesn’t matter if I’m respected. That’s not what I’m after. All I ever dreamed for was the desire to live. Tonight, I have so much more than that.

peripheral vision

Being that I am in fact a junkie, and perhaps I always will be, I will think about using on daily basis or at least for the first few months, I think.  You know, you can take the needle out of the vein but you can’t stop the vein from flowing to/from my heart.  It’s still rather frightening that I will always be one mistake short of ruining everything I’ve worked for, crushing my parents once again, and counting the breaths I take because deep down I know they’re numbered again. I want more than anything else to rid my mind/body of the suffocating desire to use drugs.  I can’t sincerely say that I will never use or drink again. I can say for the next 24 hours I will not pick up, though even if I have to shorten that oath to an hour. I’m sick of lying and I’m sick of trying and I’m sick of dying. I know that’s not the life I want so why the fuck do I spend the better half of my day mourning the loss of my dearest heroine?  That’s where the disease aspect of my addiction comes in. I am better than the life I was living but I still can’t help but wonder if I am capable of living any other way. That is insane. I was raised better than the obsession I’ve been cursed with. So, it must be a disease because that’s not who I am.  The mental obsession makes you feel sick to your stomach because it’s not a normal human emotion. I got to spend two days with my boyfriend while I was home. I really enjoyed myself and so did he. It’s like it recharged our love for each other. We knew we were in love and that hadn’t changed, we were just having a hard time believing our love was capable of enduring these hard times. But we know now that we will be stronger for it.  The only thing that could stop us is if one of us got in a bad binge again that we couldn’t recover from. Time heals all wounds but you have to be willing to give the wound time to heal and not continuing scratching at it.  I am really happy with him. I’ve only been back at Phases for 3 days and it’s already getting hard again wondering what he’s doing and who he’s doing it with but I do trust him and I’ve got to let go of the jealousy of anyone else getting to spend time with him. He’s not going to cheat on me period, bitches be damned.  We made love all night and it was so beautiful. He makes me feel things I’ve never felt with anyone else not to mention that he is the best sex I’ve ever had or ever will have. He goes out of his way to make me feel sexy, beautiful, and never ceases to amaze me with the joy he brings in my heart. As corny as this all sounds I’m so in love with him. He is my heart and I am his, you can’t live without your heart. I just pray that my father will eventually accept the love we have for each other. If he makes me choose the right thing is to choose my father but truth be told I would just continue to be with jess behind his back. I love them both so much I’m not willing to live without either one of them. I’m not sure if I mentioned that the halfway house I’ve been staying at, Phases, called and offered to give me another chance.  I said I’d come as kong as I could have my phone and they agreed. But when I got back this program is something like 12 people under. So many people and relapsed and left that there’s hardly anyone left. So is that why she offered for me to come back, because they needed the money? Or was it genuinely because they want me to succeed and want me here as a person as well.  Either way my mother doesn’t want me staying here. She wants me to go to Recovery Community.  And I actually kind of want to go there too.  You can be in a relationship there and your curfew is 10 PM and you get to keep your cell phone and it’s just all around more laid back from what I hear. Now, it could’ve been represented falsely to me because the source that offered that information isn’t exactly reliable. I’m going to call to get put on the waiting list tomorrow and I’ll ask those questions. My job is beginning to be too much. I’m perfectly capable of following a schedule but when you expect me to jump when you says it’s not fair. I make plans or just want to relax on my days off and it never fails that he will call me in. Yesterday I just ignored his calls all day. The night before I did say that if he really needed someone that I would come in but I was naive enough to believe that whoever was scheduled might actually come in. So I slept in and just didn’t answer. I should have because I said I’d come in but I just needed a break. To be honest I’ve just been too depressed to get out of bed since I’ve been back. I’m hoping that’s because I missed a couple days of taking my medication and that it will get better since I’m back on it but I really don’t know. I’m lonely again. My new roommates are older and never home. When I was staying at the main house there was always something going on and someone to talk to.  And my roommates there had gotten to the point to where they enjoyed my company or at least enjoyed laughing at the things I said. My house manager said I needed to spread my wings from the main house. I’m not sure if that because she trusts me more, or if she just doesn’t care if I do well as long as I’m paying rent, or maybe she just thinks I’m happy enough with myself that it doesn’t matter where I’m at and who’s there with me.  Either way this isn’t working out so well. And Idk if another halfway house will fix this funk but it’s worth a try. I fear that perhaps I’m running away from my problems by moving but I just know that something definitely needs to be different if I expect myself to make it further this time. Plus, I’ll get to be with Jess much more. And with that dirt bag Clint tried to take advantage of me and what Crissy got me into and the friends I’ve lost here, I just want to join another circle of recovery. That might be immature but I’m just desperate to be at least content with who I am because I’m just not happy. I love my parents so much it’s insane and that’s the only thing that’s working out. My father isn’t really talking to me because I spent time with Jess (my boyfriend, by the way) but my mother is my best friend again and for that I am grateful. I mean I’m like really grateful I am blessed with the best parents anyone could ever dream of. As a matter of fact it’s actually making me tear up which is okay because it’s motivation to give this sobriety shit a try. I need to do it for myself but if I’m doing it for them I’m at least doing it and I know that eventually I’ll get to where I’m doing it for me again because that’s how it went before I relapsed. And don’t get me wrong. I am so blessed and believe it or not with I take a moment to think I am more grateful than I’ve ever been.

get out

I don’t like to shake. I don’t know why I always do.  Maybe it’s my heart or my asthma.  Either way I’d like to fix it.

It’s sad he got kicked out, but it makes me understand why I haven’t heard from him.  Mom was sweet offering our couch to him.  He’s got a lot going on inside.  He tries to hide it, but I see it.

Whyyy don’t you text me?

I didn’t expect you to reply, but it was nice talking to you.

God interviens right at the perfect time, which is good but not very much fun for little wild children.

I still don’t get you.  I know that I could get you talking if I really wanted to, but one, I don’t want to do things the way I used to; I like it happenstance, that way, it’s not my fault; and two, if I am too bold, it’s a temptation for him to revert to his insticntive boyish way, which is not what I need right now.  So, I’ll let him to the talking.  It makes things really slow but it’s me being somewhat careful.  So, we’ll see.

I need to stop looking at your pictures.  They can be infectious.

I want to, but I don’t feel like explaining myself, and they will see it.

Old friend, maybe I’ll give oneee more try.

I wonder if I’m strong enough to continue these friendships.  I don’t believe she’s changed.  I think she’d maybe think twice about doing it again but that wouldn’t be enough to stop her.  At first, going back was absolutely unthinkable.  The thought of it was sickening.  Then, I gave it a try.  It was still really hard but I bit my lip swallowed my pride and did it.  It was easier on everyone.  So for a little while, I just tried my very best to forget it ever happened.  That worked for about two months.  But it’s back again.  It gets worse everyday.  Sometimes such hatred boils beneath my skin that I never want to see her or anyone that reminds me of her ever again.  Which may not sound like a big deal but it is, to me at least.  He was wrong as well, but I have to remember he was single and half way convinced we wouldn’t get back together.  It was wrong for him to go after a friend of mine, but she threw herself at him.  But, how could they?  I laid sick in bed for months and they had a hay day faking love because I wasn’t around to give it.  After everything I've done for them, after everything we’ve been through.  I’m a pretty shady person, but I would never, ever, do that to anyone.  This has changed me.  It’s made me crazy.  My outlook on what’s “okay” and what’s not is twisted.  I feel that no matter what I do it will not add up to what they do.  Therefore, ruthless wrecklessness is as good as innocence to me.  I lie, because it them who took my truth and used it against me.  When I’m alone I convince myself that payback will make me feel better.  Maybe one day it will but so far that hasn’t worked.  And what’s wild is that they still have the nerve to speak to eachother in front of me.  God knows what they do when they have a few minutes alone, though I do my best to make sure that never happens.  After what they did to me, they are still comfortable speaking?  They should be ashamed.  They should feel awful for even glancing in eachother direction.  Anyway, my point is the way I live life now, I will never be able to escape them.  And I’m beginning to wonder how much longer I can stand this.  It’s madness.  It’s making me mad.  And the only solutions would drastically change everything I’ve ever known.  I hate you.

Maybe, everything is okay and I’m just thinking too much.  Trying to find a problem so that I can runaway again.  One of the songs he wrote a while ago said, “you runaway like you’ve got nothing to lose”.  I know that his last name makes me lucky to be associated with him in some places and he’s crazy talented but am I better than this?  Am I better than the way I’ve been treated by him and his family?  Part of me says I deserve less and wants no one.  The other part is convince I need something else.  Someone else.  He doesn’t hear me.  He doesn’t take me seriously.  He makes fun of the things I love, writing, my music, etc.  He thinks I owe him so much, and maybe I do but he’s such a pusher.  I’m not stupid.  But then theres how cute he is, how smart he is, just the way he is, I love it.  We’ve fought so hard for this, why throw it all away?  He swears to love me, and I swear the same but I just want to know what’s right, what’s best.

I wish I could move out without offending my parents.  I’m beginning to think I need it.

I’m beginning to have trouble breathing again.

hey, hey little razor blade.

Meet me behind the curtain at six.  I’ll be anxiously awaiting your arrival.

Why me?

“I do not want people to be very agreeable, as it saves me the trouble of liking them a great deal.”

— Jane Austen, Jane Austen’s Letters