“Crying Does Not Indicate That You Are Weak. Since Birth, It Has Always Been A Sign That You Are Alive.”

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

— Zora Neale Hurston (via clash-official)

“Never bend your head. Hold it high. Look the world straight in the eye.”

— Helen Keller

“It’s not always necessary to be strong, but to feel strong.”

— Jon Krakauer, Into the Wild (via wnq-quotes)

alright, hey

Since my brother and his girlfriend have been using my computer, the internet has gotten significantly slower.  That is frustrating, but what can you do.  I’ll say something to them, and have dad look at it but apparently, they “need” it.  Though I do remember a time or two coming into their room while they were watching a movie on it.

I haven’t been able to write lately.  My life seems to be busy with work, school, church, and “friends”. I suppose I could squeeze some writing time in but my room is so uncomfortable to do hardly anything in.  I’m in the process of redoing it though so perhaps that should help.

Apparently, the word “suppose” is sexy.  In what sentences I wonder?  I’m not all that sure.  But that’s what he says.  He says I have so many odd tendencies.  He says even silent I am hyper.  He sees the things I struggle with through observation.  I’m not all that sure I’ve ever been friends with someone who cared enough to notice these things about me.  He hasn’t heard anything about me so his opinion he forms of me will be completely his.  Not like where I live.  There everyone has an idea in their head about who I am before I meet them.  Which is not good because who I am is so much different then what I do.  What I do alone makes me sound like I am a completely different person.  What I do makes me sound selfish, mean, ruthless, wreckless, slutty, and lord knows what else.  But who I am deep down is different to some extent.  I care.  I hurt.  I need.  I want.  But when it comes down to it, ‘you can sin or spend the whole night alone’.  What ends up happening is just the price I have to pay for company.  It’s pathetic really but for now that’s what I do.  I mean they won’t let me cut, so it’s back to boys.  Theres also a huge difference between who I am, who I need to be, and who I pretend to be.  During the day, usually, I am persistantly who I need to be.  I need to be strong, and take care of everyone. Who I am, is a simple, sad innocent little girl who just wants to be happy.  And who I pretend to be is coldhearted, wreckless, and carelss.  That makes three differnt me’s.  He says that’s too exhausting.  He says the way to fix it is to start over fresh.  Get everyone who is negatively effecting me out of my life.  That’s not very possible right now.  I probably should have moved to a further college to get out.  I don’t want to leave my parents because I don’t know how long I’ll have them.  And all the adults tell me the smartest thing to do is to live at home as long as possible.  Sometimes, even if what they’re saying is true, it’s incredibly hard to listen to people be so mean to eachother.  The night I decide I’m going to stay in bed happens to be the night brother and his girlfriend fight in the hall by my room.  He said she was a bitch and he wanted one of her xanax.  She said he’s a junkie and she hates him.  He said "yeahh, why don’t you go buy some more pills from your mom?  And she said, “why don’t you go snort another pill."  Then they went to seperate ends of the house.  Minutes later, I heard him crush it and snort it in the kitchen.  I try not to listen to them but sometime I feel like I have to just incase something bad happens.  Lauren got him a pistol.  That scares mom, but he threatened to tell dad mine and her secret if she told dad about the gun.  She gets so upset over that.  Before work she was texting me over and over telling me about how I never should have told him, and how she’s so upset, how it makes her sick, I told her I would handle it.  And I will.  I only told him because we were having a brother sister moment and I was trying to get him to consider stopping the way he’s living his life.  Obviously it did no good.  Just another way I’ve messed things up in my life as well as others.  I can fail before I even try. 

What do you want from me?

Cracker Barrel is nice.  I like jobs that keep you busy, and working with people who aren’t sixteen.  I do better in a structured environment. 

I think my parents did a fine job raising me.  Some say, they were too protective and some say I didn’t get in trouble enough.  Oh, whatever.  Live and learn. 

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.

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 Sunday, I share my story at church. I have 7 minutes to explain 26 years. When the pastor asked me to share, he specifically requested I replicate what I shared last year at the Recovery Community Inc fundraiser. I’ve spent some time trying to recall that was. I’m going to use this space to aid my memory:

I grew up in a good home. My parents are still married. I had everything I needed and most of what I wanted. Something wasn’t right, though. Even at 12, I remember never feeling good enough. That’s when I began cutting myself. That worked, for a while. It was than that i began signing my journals with “not alive at 25”. I’d decided I didn’t want to live longer than that. That was the deadline I put on the universe to make me want to live. Eventually, I got caught cutting. I had to find another way to ease what I thought was pain. I lost my virginity at 13. My problems had been solved. I spent he next couple years sleeping with my peers. I didn’t really want to but they made me feel important. I was making good grades. I was a great cheerleader. I was popular. I went to church. For some reason I still cried myself to sleep at night. The only things that stopped the tears were self harm or sex. Both of which had continued to get me in trouble. When I got drunk for the first time, I thought I’d found the cure to depression. I was invincible! Until my senior prom when I realized being drunk took away my motor skills so severely that I could keep unwanted hands out of my pants. Shit. What now? I knew what I was doing wasn’t working but I was also certain I wouldn’t be content without some form of relief.

When I was offered an opiate, an OxyContin pain killer to be exact, it was as if my prayers had been answered. Finally! Something to make me feel as beautiful and genius as ever without hindering my motor skills! It didn’t take long after that. I went back for more a couple times. After about two weeks, when I asked for more, the dealer only had heroin. I wasn’t afraid of anything. I googled how to shoot heroin and never looked back. The habit became expensive. I was physically dependent, dope sick without it. Over the course of the step few years I stole from my parents, from my boyfriends parents, my neighbors, until finally I thought there was nothing left to sell. I was homeless, hopeless, and seemingly helpless. I called my drug dealer. I asked if he could just front me some heroin one more time. I promised him I’d pay him soon. He told me he wasn’t giving me anymore fronts. He told me he had a better idea. He told me that if I sucked his dick, he’d give me drugs and money. I hung up the phone. I called my boyfriend and told him the preposterous proposition I’d just been given. My boyfriend reminded me that we’d both be sick the next day if I didn’t do it. I swallowed what little bit of pride I had left and called the drug dealer back. We met at toysrus is river gate. I treated it like a date, he treated it like what it was. When I was finished, I threw up. I went back to hotel I was staying in at the time. I showered and scrubbed my skin until it bled. I hated myself even more then that I ever did before. I promised myself it was just one time that tomorrow I’d be able to keep a job and that would keep my high. It didn’t just happen once. To tell you he truth, the first two weeks of it were terrible. It was awkward and disgusting. Pretty soon, though, I couldn’t feel anything anymore. Every ounce of dignity I thought I’d ever have was gone. I was a prostitute. After I while, I remember getting a call. It was time to go. This time, the client I was meeting lived pretty far out. I stood up from the hotel bed and stepped in something wet. I was wearing socks. I hate stepping in something wet while wearing socks. I looked in the mirror. My hair looked wet. It wasn’t. It had just been that long since I’d washed it. The clothes I was wearing were stolen. I was hungry. All of a sudden, I thought of my father. I thought of the pony rides he used to take me on and how he used to tell me I could be whatever I wanted to be when I grew up. I thought about who I actually became. It was a brief moment of clarity that faded when the phone rang again. It wasn’t long after that that my boyfriend decided to get clean.

I was terrified of being by myself, so I went to a mental hospital and told them I’d kill myself if they didn’t get me off the drugs. I called my mother. I told her I’d be home soon. She told me I wasn’t welcome. Thank God. My parents cutting me off is what saved my life. I went to halfway house in south Nashville. It looked exactly what you might honk a half way house to would look like. I kept using so I got kicked out. That’s when I met lyn. I came to rci and had a home. I laughed until I cried with women just trying to make it through one more day. I was taught how to mop, and not to wash towels with anything but towels. I cried with women when I had nightmares about the men that abused me while I was on the streets. I prayed with Lyn. I played volleyball with other residents. I remember a few months had passed and i unpacked my suit case. I had decided that was home. It still is. I have a house in Donelson. I’m in school to be a nurse. I have a car. I’ve received medical treatment for the hepatitis I contacted while on the streets and been cured. While those blessing are appreciated, the greatest gift recovery has given me is a desire to live. No matter what happens, I want to be alive to see it. None of this would have been possible had it not been for recovery community. I’m 26 years old and I haven’t wanted to die it quite some time. I have 3.5 years clean. You know, the only reason I started going to church was the make sure Godwhy was teaching my boyfriend at the time the right stuff. I remember when I walked in here for the first time. The shame that was on my shoulders. I never stopped believing in God. There was a lot of pain in that. I didn’t feel worthy to be in a building where I knew God was. The jokes of me because two years later, I’m still attending this church and it not to protect Justin anymore. It’s to thank God for my life and to learn how to show others his mercy. I still have nightmares about the men. Sometimes, I still feel disgusting. In those times, I looked down at my hand and see my wedding band. I’m reminded that God can turn a hoe into a housewife, and I am worthy of that gift.

So I just read that out loud at it was about six minutes. That makes me feel better. Maybe it is possible after all. Writing it though took much longer and now I’m tired.

To be continued..

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

ketchup

I haven’t written in a while.  I’ve been to busy being a wild child, apparently.  I’ve been flying, having a few drinks, and sniffling.  I say that as discretely as I can just incase my tumblr begins to get visitors. 

I recently discovered I do not need to take more than two shots of vodka.  I threw up once after three, and I threw up so many times I can’t count when I took four.  I had so much fun but I’m not all that sure it was worth all the getting sick.  I had my first drunken video taken of me Saturday.  I didn’t even remebmer it.  I just heard about it.  It was pretty funny.  I kept apologizing for getting so wasted, saying I promise I didn’t mean for it to get this far.  Then I fell back words, sat back up and said, “let’s get laid!"  It was really funny.  I didn’t like being so confused and sick in the morning.  And I had plans of revenge that night but I got to wasted to carry them out.  Luckily I am pretty sure now that I will have another few chances. 

I could pay attention in this class but to be honest I really don’t think it would help me.  Reading the chapter myself is much more sufficient.  This teacher is about 75 years old and admitted that he’s only teaching again to see if he can do it.  It’s becominf obvious that his retirement, God bless him,

But come to think of it I do need to study for my next class, bye.