Latest Posts by maggieruthless-blog - Page 3

MTA 26

I just hopped the bus on Gallatin pike to get to work.  I will get downtown only catch the 12 bus to Nolensville road.  One positive to catching the bus is you get hit on every time you catch a bus.  Some guy just gave me his card with his phone number and room number at the hotel he’s staying at. The old me would’ve jumped at the opportunity not because I was attracted to him but because I’d take him for every dime he had and more than likely succeed.  Today, I need money but not that back and for that I am grateful. I got to hang out with Jess last might. And for those 2 hours everything disappeared.  I didn’t have a care in the world other than not wanting our time together to end but all things must come to and end. I’m just so happy I got to spend that time with him.  He’s my rock whether I like it or not. My boss wants to fire Crissy, my friend that got me the job.  It makes me feel good but also guilty because she’d lose her job and I’d keep mine. That’s all I have to say right now. Eleven days, of course.

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.

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.

nineteen, again and counting, again

Things are okay today, almost. Everyday has it’s enemies. Sitting, waiting for the opportunity to take everything you’ve worked for, whatever that may be. More or less, it doesn’t matter because you worked for it. The miracle of this new lifestyle is I can choose not to play in the shadows with my enemies. I’ve been testing this new theory that if you come out of your room every once in a while, you meet new people. I’ve been trying not to be so shy. I find myself feeling stupid more often than not but, I also find myself laughing more than I have in a long time. Maybe, just maybe, it’s worth the trade off. I know if nothing else I need to learn to be comfortable with who I am and what I say, how I feel and how I look. I need to learn what is appropriate to be said as well, though. Doped up anything you say or do feels like flying so much so that you don’t give shit about those below you. All of a sudden, I care what people think, how I make people feel, what’s right, and what’s wrong. The beginning of this journey, you know “to recovery”, is going to hurt like hell, if I do it right. I have to let go and trust that through the pain I’ll unleash working the steps will come true serenity. I want peace, for the first time in my life. I want to be okay with being alone while at the same time being sure that’s not the only thing I do. Having fun with people in recovery but still keeping in mind that the 13th step will always be in the rooms. It doesn’t matter how sweet he’s talking, how great of a listener he is, or how many secrets he tells you. He’s still a candidate, whether he knows it or not. And of course that doesn’t mean they’re all like that. It just means its best to keep your shirt on, at least until, well actually I don’t know. I just have to be careful, at all costs. I need to focus on me. I need to attend more meetings. I need a job! And I need to let go of the resentment I’ve gained against the directors here. Whether or not it’s right doesn’t matter because they’re only trying to help me stay clean. And clearly, I can’t do that very successfully on my own. My boyfriend, or lack there of, is becoming more and more complicated. He wants sex and hell, so do I but I am in a halfway house! I say that so many time I could type it in my sleep. It’s like he forgets and all of a sudden thinks I’m refusing to see him. There is a side of it that is my fault. It takes me a little while to warm up to him when we hang out. I’m not sure why, mostly because I’m completely sober, but also perhaps it’s because I am far from comfortable with my body. He mentioned the other night hoe much better I look than I did when I was strung out, under weight, and so fucking lifeless looking. I have a hard time accepting that I might look better then than I do now but I’m trying to work on myself physically/mentally while remaining content with who I am at the same time. Regardless, I love him so much. And I’ll let you know if that ever changes. He got me this beautiful necklace for Valentine’s Day. We’re going to be okay. That’s it, for now.

wash it all away

I put my Galaxy S4 in the washing machine about a week ago. Clearly, it was an accident. I was ten kinds of fucked up over it. My parents got me this expensive phone for Christmas because they trusted me, they knew I wouldn’t pawn it like I have everything else in my life. It was the only thing I have that held any value. My mother and I took it to two different cell phone repair stores. Last night we had to give up and accept that the Galaxy was gone for good. It was time to let the grieving process begin but then low and behold my mother bought me another phone right there on the spot for my birthday! I love it. I love her, I love my family. I’m so blessed. Now, there’s more. I think. As the days go by I get more and more comfortable with who and where I am. That’s beautiful. My intensive out patient classes are getting to be more bearable. I’m coming to terms with the fact that I’m just not going to be allowed to work in a restaurant so I best get out there and do something because I can’t continue to let my parents pay for it all. Jess is Jess. I love him, he loves me. We’re trying to work it out where we can see one another more often. He obviously doesn’t handle life very well without me. Oh, wait. You don’t know. I’m too proud to even write it out for you. Why is it that I always get along with the guys better? I went out with a few the other night. One was weary because we’re not really supposed to hang out with other people in our program but by the end he said I was like one of the guys and okay to be brought out like that. Why, thank you, that’s really what I was looking for, your approval ha. No. It still felt nice I guess. Is it wrong to enjoy attention? There is this guy that pretended to be all brotherly at the convention and I found yesterday he’s been telling everyone that he just wanted to fuck me. Now that, I don’t appreciate. I was seeing red last night after being told about it. There was more said of course to make me so angry. I did the right thing, though. I was given that information in confidence so it was not my place to take care of it. I just know that I’m going to do everything I can to make sure he knows that I’m not going for that shit. Even talking about it fuck with me. I can’t count how many times that message has been delivered to me. That’s what’s sick about it. What do I do to attract that nasty and attention. You know, the wrong kind of attention. To be honest, I think it’s because men see and talk to me then automatically think I can be easily manipulated or taken advantage of. And I’ll give them that, that’s usually the case. However, I’m so oblivious to it when they’re doing it that they don’t really get the chance to take that vantage. Then I find out like this, typically from another guy trying to sneak his way into my pants. It’s sad really. Don’t pay me a compliment because I’ll never take you serious. Believing guys like that has helped get me to the torn to shit emotional state that I live in now. Thank you baby, thank you so much. I sound like I’m all negative. I’m not. I just need to make these things clear to myself, you know? When it’s written down it’s always easier to understand, to see what I’m doing wrong or right in their eyes, apparently. We’re going to play volleyball tonight. He will be there and so will he and so will he. Confusing, I know. We’ll see how it goes. It cant be that bad. Right?

check in

I haven’t said very much, lately. I’ve been writing a lot more. Tonight I went to the carnival, threw up on one of the rides, and had the time of my life. Last night, I played volleyball then a friend rented a bicycle downtown and had me sit in the basket as we rode through the park. Everything is going to be okay. Jess and I aren’t together. Some days are great and some days hurt like hell. I’m still staying clean. I’m still in the halfway house. I’m gaining my parents trust back. I’m working. I’m smiling. I’m not giving up.

Surprise, Tumblr, I have braces! Hopefully, I will have them off in ten weeks (making it four years that I’ve had them) and I will actually smile in public without having to think twice. My point is, look at the purple flowers!

This one time, I wore eye liner..

We went cliff diving today, or in my case cliff flipping (because I can’t dive for shit). Then we met up with a friend and went tubing! I’m bruised and scratched but I haven’t had that much fun in years, it seems.

We went cliff jumping/diving, again. I climbed a tree and it was fucking epic. That is all.

envy

I’m so selfish, I know. I don’t ask for much, really. Just time, your time. All I do is work and anticipate your arrival. It’s not your fault that I require so much. I wish you could see what I see. I am grateful, of course, for the joy I’ve found in being in a relationship with you. Physically, and emotionally. I see you so occupied. I long for some type of fulfilment, other than your touch. I am old enough now to know that giving someone all of myself leaves me with not much to work with. I get so frustrated because I really know no other way. It’s all or nothing. Love or hate. Yours or mine. I’ve never been very good at sharing my attention, not that I have anyone I need/want to share it with. I know I’m just sitting here alone, feeling sorry for myself but damn. I need something else in my life. I can’t rely so much on him. I can’t rely on a substance for entertainment. I can only write for so long about so much. Sometimes I want to get away from myself. Escape. To where? I don’t know. What do I need to escape from, though? I have a happy relationship, nine months clean, loving parents, a job, a home. What more could I ask for? What am I even looking for? I know I need to attend more meetings. I have told myself that anything I have to say is too intimate for the public that is Narcotics Anonymous. So, I go and sit in silence. Although competent and content, it just isn’t enough. I will feel better in the morning. I always do. I could sit here and sulk all night. I am blessed with the money I’m making this week. I am blessed with the upcoming opportunity to start a new medication with 90% success rate. While nervous and almost reluctant, it is a blessing. I just pray my insurance will cover it. There is no way I’ll be able to afford it otherwise. It’s something that keeps me up at night. I don’t want you to be afraid of me. I want to touch and be touched, without having to think twice. I haven’t said much the past few months. I tried to make myself write on paper. I am better. I just suddenly became so frustrated I didn’t want to get off the couch. I want to feel like I am saying this all to someone other than myself. That’s just it. I want someone to say this to. Someone who wants to hear about my day. I want to hear about their day. My boyfriend does all this for me but it seems I need another outlet. He had so many people looking up to him. So many people that want to hear what he has to say. He shares his attention with me and the many others in his life. So, when he is spending time thinking of others I lay inches away from him patiently waiting to be at the top of the list for a few more minutes. He is everything I need and more. I don’t deserve him or what he does for me. I just feel, I don’t know, alone. And that is fucked up. I live with the most remarkable human being I’ve ever met and I still find myself making “accidental” movements just so he will look my way. Maybe that’s love, maybe it’s obsession, either way it’s there and I must find my own way of making the most of what he is to me. In the end, I think I’m just envious of him and his time. He is so praised in our community, he loves and is loved. I, by choice, am as far back in the shadows as one can exist, all things considered. I don’t know how to interact normal. Fearless and delighted. Furthermore, who doesn’t want attention from their significant other? Sociopaths. I’m beginning to ramble so let me just tell you what has been going on. I moved out of the halfway house and got an apartment with my seemingly heaven sent boyfriend. I am a few days short of nine months clean. I am being promoted at work. I have began to seek treatment for the damage I did to myself while using. I was asked to speak at a fundraiser which may not sound like a big deal but it has been a milestone in my life for the maturity I am having to take on. Running out of excused for misbehaving. My family is a wreck but they love and accept me, as I do them. My eyes are beginning to burn.

rinse, repeat

Reading over last nights entry I am reminded of how familiar some if it sounds. I’ve always been known to write about a guy in my life. I’ve always been known to have a guy in my life. How ignorant I must sound to anyone who has paid any attention. Either way my feelings haven’t changed for the man currently in my life. He has taken the time to nurse me back to health, if you will. Telling me to lift my head up when I walk, that it’s okay to look people in the eyes, and reminding me that I do have opinions and it’s okay if they don’t run parallel to his or anyone else’s. He knows more about me than anyone, thus far. He tells me it wasn’t my fault, that no meant no and I don’t need to ask forgiveness for something that wasn’t my fault. He tells me when I’m wrong and when I’m right. He is my advocate and I plan to be his if I’m ever positioned to be. This is all too mushy, I’m just saying I know I sound naive, but I’m happy with him. See, I told you everything would be better in the morning.

I had myself a very minor surgery. They prescribed me some very mild pain killers. I feel them in my face and chest. It all reminds me of how happy I am today. So happy, that the minor debauchery felt behind my eyes is nothing more than a nuisance. I’m so grateful go be alive.

sponsor

So, I got a new sponsor. Her instructions were clear. She wants me to call her everyday for thirty days. She also wants me to write her a letter stating what I expect to get out of sponsorship. I’ve thought about it and all I can seem to come up with is what I’ve heard in the rooms. I hope to have someone who has more sense/wisdom than me to come to with issues in my life. I hope to become more aware of myself and who I am. I hope to become more comfortable with myself. I hope to learn to help others the way I’ve been helped. I hope to stay clean. I hope to grow. That all sounds good, right? What else? I don’t know.

cure

There is now a cure for hepatitis c and I am going to get it! Not treatment, but the cure! It is 99% effective. I am so blessed. The scaring that has already occurred to my liver is irreversible BUT as long as a do everything I’m told, medically speaking, it won’t get any worse. If I decide I want to, I can now have children without having to worry about making them sick, etc. I can’t express my gratitude to my God for what he is doing in my life. I love you.

awake

I’ve been sleeping all day. This medication is keeping me tired, but I can’t let it keep me in bed. I’m staying in bed not only because I’m tired but bc I don’t want to be awake and that is not okay. I have everything to be awake for. I have to keep in mind that ten plus hours is plenty of sleep. Physically, I am capable of staying up for the day.

Better late than never, for memory’s sake. The most beautiful bouquet I’ve ever received. I am so grateful for my boyfriend, family, and friends. I am so blessed.

(Purple tulips for my favorite color and roses to keep it classic. I loved them!)

Gratitude list 1;

-I am clean today. -My family. -My boyfriend. -My sponsor. -New friends. -My health. -My home. -My car. -My job. -Narcotics Anonymous.

I decided I’m going to try to start making more gratitude lists. I can’t decide how I’m going to do it but today started with ten things. The things I listed are things thast I am grateful everyday, and always will be as long as those things remain in my life. My hope is to perhaps name ten things periodically and never say the same thing consecutively. For example, on the first one I just posted, I mentioned my boyfriend. On my next list, I will not say my boyfriend. That way, I’m not taking the easy way out by restating the same things towards each attempt of remaining grateful. We’ll see how long it lasts, if it lasts at all. I spoke at Cumberland Heights (a rehab in the Nashville area) Wednesday. I didn’t plan on speaking. The plan was to tag along to learn about H and I (hospitals and instituations). The women originally chosen to speak couldn’t make it so I was asked to take her place. I was so nervous. I was afraid I would bring the wrong message. For all I know, that meeting could have been the first time some of them had ever even heard of NA. I wanted people to be attracted to the program. It, among other things, has saved my life, and contionues to do so on a daily basis. I was also nervous because of the public speaking part of it, of course. Standing on a stage in front of upwards of 60 people speaking is uncomfortable. I spoke entirely too fast, and not long enough. There was one girl in the crowd particularly that I hoped to reach. She ended up asking for my nunmber, so hopefully I said something that touched her in someway. Even if I only helped one person, that’s still enough. My boyfriend and I had an interesting conversation earlier. We talked about what we would do if one of us started using. It is suggested, of course, that you don’t date another addict when they are using. The point we made is, if we love one another how can you just turn your back on them? Fortunately for us, we don’t have to figure that out today. He is struggling in his recovery. It frustrates me that he doesn’t follow suggestions but I am learning to let him work his program while I work mine, seperately. It’s much easier said than done. He knows what to do and won’t do it. With that being said, I want to lose weight and haven’t done anything about it. So, I’ll just pray about it. My parents, boyfriend, and I went out to dinner tonight. IT was in honor of my late birthday and my parents’ anniversary. I was able to pay for their dinner tonight. As reluctant as they were to let me do it, I am so grateful to have the ability to do that today. That’s all I have to say for now.

“You mean more to me than anyone else has. Love, Justin.” I’m so blessed. To make this sweet surprise even more rad, he left an orange sucker with a cricket, of sorts, frozen inside. Who does that? I think I’m in love.

I had such a marvelous weekend. My best friend came to visit, from Memphis, for FOUR DAYS. We explored, rode bikes, went zip lining, cooked, and explored some more. Loyalty is rare, therefore precious, and that’s what I’ve had since day one from her. Ten years and counting. I love you!

changes

Everything is changing. I have a new job. I’m a server at a restaurant called The Aquarium. So far, I love it. I’m making double the amount of money I was making at El Chico and we’re in slow season so it’ll only get better. The tables all surround this 200,000 gallon tank full of sharks, eels, sting rays, and numerous other animals. It’s strange, though. When I started at El Chico my entire focus was on staying clean. Every day was a struggle. I remember telling myself constantly, “Just don’t use today, maybe tomorrow will be different.” Now, I’m a bit more emotionally secure so staying clean daily isn’t as much as a struggle. Therefore, starting a new job I have found new struggles. None of these strangers are going to be impressed by how long I’ve stayed clean. They don’t care that I pay my bills on time. They’re not surpised that I attend my siblings birthday parties. These are all normal things, that normal people do every day. So what do I have to offer then? I’m no genius, I’m no beauty queen, and I’m certainly no athlete. I know there is nothing wrong with me. I’m just finding it hard to start conversations and make friends. I’ve only been there two weeks, so I’m sure it’ll get better. I just worry, often. Next, I start school on Tuesday. I know I am capable of doing well, I just wonder how hard that is going to be exactly. No pills, no sleeping with professors. Just me, honestly trying my best to do this right. It’s just an odd concept that I’m having to adapt to. Honesty, for one. Being a responsible member of society, etc. I’ll be fine. I just need to pray more and think less. Now, my relationship is still going wonderful, I think. He is struggling right now. His work is stressing him out as well as the mother of his son. It’s just an odd feeling. While things are changing for me, I’m at the best I’ve been emotionally. I’m aware of my issues and taking steps to fix them. For once, I’m finding myself telling him that everything is going to be all right. For the first 18 months of our relationship it’s been the other way around. I’m willing to provide him with the same support he’s given me all this time but I’m just not sure if I’ll be any good at it. I love what we have and I’m willing to work at it, I just hope I don’t make it worse. I’m on my 6th step. I was fully aware of all my character defects a few months ago, but now that I’m living right they don’t seem so obvious anymore. So, I’m wondering what are they and how do I find them? It’s date night, so that’s all for now.

You guys, I now get paid to be a mermaid. I’m not allowed to post about it until our public debut in Jan, but considering only a few of my followers know me personally, I figured this was a safe place to let some of my excitement out. Stranger: “What do you do for a living?” Me: “I’m a mother fucking mermaid, man.”

*mistreated

Do you ever think about me?

Sometimes, I wonder if those who I made my world ever think of me. I think of them. It’s like anyone I ever thought I loved left a scar on my heart. I thought of it as somewhat of a curse at first but I’m pretty good at taking the bad and making it good or at least tolerable. I’ll try to start from the beginning. The first gift a boyfriend ever gave me was a necklace, and I was in elementary school. It had a single grain of rice inside it with my name written on it. Zack gave it to me. Anytime I see someone with extremely small handwriting, I tell them about that necklace. The first boy I kissed was called Matt. We kissed behind a couch. I was twelve. It was an older couch that folded out into a bed. I still think of him, and that night, when I come across a couch like that. Later that year, Matt’s bestfriend, Aaron, fingered me. It was the first time a boy touched me there and I hated it. He had longer hair and acne. Although it was eleven years ago, that hair cut is still popular. When I see boys with their hair styled that way, I am reminded that it is okay to say no. Dakota was the first boy to break my heart. My father was painting my room on the day he broke up with me, so I had to go cry in my sister’s room. The smell of paint reminds me that selfish boys don’t deserve my tears. Austin told me that he’d kill himself if I broke up with. I stayed with him two weeks longer than I wanted to. He’s popped into my mind during every break up I’ve expereinced. I lost my virginity when I was thirteen to a boy name Brandon. I wasn’t ready, but I didn’t want to disappoint him. John Mayer was his favorite artist. That was ten years ago, and I still won’t listen to Mayer’s music. When I was 17, Anthony convinced me to leave my boyfriend to be his girl. He broke up with me a month later. He had a golden retriver and seeing those dogs still reminds me that I should always go with my gut. Destiny was the first and only girl I ever fell in love with. She betrayed me. That was six years ago, and there’s not much that doesn’t make me think of her. I was the first girl Mitchell ever brought home to meet his family. Ever since then, anytime I meet a boyfriend’s family I am reminded how important first impressions are. I thought the relationship I had with Josh was healthy. I bought him a rosary for his birthday. After four months he took off to California with my debit card, and I haven’t seen him since. Men who wear rosaries remind me not to give my pin number out to anyone. Jeffrey broke my heart faster than anyone I’ve ever been with. He had somewhat of a receding hair line. When I see men who seem to be balding, I am reminded that sex is not the same thing as love. The most unhealthy relationship I’ve ever been in lasted two years. His name was Jess and I made him my god. He lived my life for me, and I loved it. When faced with a difficult decision, I am grateful that I am finally capable to think for myself. There are many other men I’ve crossed paths with in my twenty three years alive. Today I am grateful for the good, the bad, and the ugly. You hurt me. You made me believe my life would be nothing without you. Thank you. If it hadn’t been for all the people that mnistreated me in my life, I wouldn’t know what it means to really be loved. I’m sure I have many more hard lessons to learn but just for today, I am grateful for the scars you left beacuse they make me who I am today.

lost dreams awakened

I gave blood Tuesday. I’m not telling you because I want to boast about being charitable. I’m telling you this because I was never supposed to be permitted to give blood. Being diagnosed with hepatitis c meant no sharing nail files, no EMT license, and certainly no giving blood. Now that I am cured, I can do all those things. When I was thirteen I wrote a bucket list. Giving blood was on that list. I can now cross it out because my God does phenomenal things in my life. We do recover.

“If you are silent about your pain, they’ll kill you and say you enjoyed it.”

— Zora Neale Hurston (via clash-official)

Turn out the lights. I’ll love you until you love yourself.

*others

precipitation

It’s 1:41 am and it’s raining outside. No one will ever know what the sound of rain drops hitting the ground means to me, but I’ll try to explain. When I was on heroin, I drove a beat up Toyota with no drivers side window. Every morning I’d wake up hoping it was dry outside. Regardless of the weather, rain, sleet, or snow, I’d still have to drive downtown to cop. Otherwise, I’d be miserably dope sick, unable to get out of bed. Back then, I didn’t watch the news because regardless of what that weather man said, I still had to go out and drive in it. Today, however, is different. Today I can watch the news, see that a storm is coming and plan ahead. Today I have a choice as to whether or not I drive in the current conditions. Hearing the rain tap the asfalt over and over again reminds me that I have a choice. It reminds me that I don’t ever have to use again. It reminds me that I made bad choices, but I’m not a bad person. It reminds me to help overs in this journey of recovery. It reminds me I lived through many things I shouldn’t have. It reminds me that I’m a miracle. It reminds me that we do recover.