We Went Cliff Jumping/diving, Again. I Climbed A Tree And It Was Fucking Epic. That Is All.

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.

puppet

My day has been rather monotonous.  My mother informed me that her and my father have decided that I don’t get my car until I have 90 days clean. It sounds like bullshit to me because there are so many reasons as to why having my car in the near future would help my recovery. I could go to my own meetings, get a better job, and have the immediate opportunity to leave a situation if I feel uncomfortable. I hate the way they’re going about this shit. They make me feel like I have no control like a fucking puppet. Instead of letting me get clean because I want to they are doing everything in their power to squeeze me into making the decision they think is best. Like, for example, saying if I don’t go to this certain halfway house they won’t help with rent anymore, or saying I can’t have my car until I have 90 days so that ultimately I have to stay clean if I ever want to move forward in life. Now I know that’s true and I’d stay clean regardless but I want to be in control of that. I want to make the decision for myself and not have them pulling strings until I do it the way they think I should. Now, I know they’re just doing what they think is best and only because they love me. I also know that there is not a damn thing I can do to change the way they’re running my life. That’s why it bothers me, too. One of the perks to getting clean is having  control of your life but I don’t get that. It makes me feel so hopeless without the slightest opportunity to think for myself because it doesn’t matter what they think my parents are doing their very best to make sure I only act of their thoughts. I’ve realized that even though I keep gaining sober mail friends, it’s almost always going to end the same way. They start listening to your bullshit and hear you cry but in a few weeks time after they see that they’ve gained your friendship if that’s even what they’re calling it, they’re no longer so concerned with what’s on your mind. I really enjoy talking to Wesley but he’s become rather apathetic to my little issues. It could be because most of the time I call crying it’s over something I’ve already cried to him about before.  I can say that it doesn’t matter how many times a friend calls me upset about the same thing I am still there with the same love and patience as I was for the first phone call.  However, I can’t expect everyone to feel the same way about how you should treat your friends as I do. And it’s not like he’s just ugh fuck I’ve heard this before he just doesn’t seem to be as interested in making sure I feel better once the conversation is over. My boyfriend (or lack there of) and I had a bit of a better day. I am really hard on him and I always realize that the next day you know that I had acted a fool so I apologize to him. The I wonder why he doesn’t like talking on the phone as much as he used to.  I also have to take into account that this is just as hard if not harder for him as it is to me. I’m locked up and can’t see him but he’s out in the world able to do whatever he wants except see me which is what we both want most. It’s easier for me because I know I can’t see him or anyone unless I sneak around but he doesn’t understand that so he gets in his head thinking I just don’t want to try to see him. We also keep missing each other. On the days I can make something work so we can see each other, he can’t. And vice versa, you know because his mother still hates me.  And now I find out I won’t have a vehicle for three months which means it will be hard on us for another 3 months rather than one month because that’s what my parents had told me originally I’m sure the thought crosses his mind just like it does mine, are we going to be able to make it through this? But I just remind myself that if it’s meant to be we can make it through anything which I believe we can. I just need to be patient with him. It’s like we’re in a long distance relationship.  I’ve just to relax and remember that if I make it through this we will have such a beautiful life that I’ll look back and laugh at these unfortunate events. I love him so much and I can honestly say I’ve never felt this way about any other man and I do want to spend the rest of my life with him. We’ve been together for 3 years today. I’m going back to Phases. I called and told her I’d come back if I could keep my phone rather than having it taken again for the first 30 days and she agreed that I can have it until at least 730 so I can handle that for 30 days, I think. And I pray he can too. I know he loves me I just hope it’s enough to carry us through these hard times because it will will be worth it. This post is a mess and scrambled and djeiwbdofoew. Okay, bye.

Forgiveness

Church this morning was about “division.” The pastors discussed how division is brought on by our lack of forgiveness and how sometimes, we have to forgive people who aren’t sorry. When there are quarrels between me and someone who is less healthy than I am, then it’s up to me to make healthy choices and end the division. So, the opening song was “Forget You,” by Gnarls Barkley. The pastor came on stage asking if we all had someone in mind when that song played. I couldn’t think of anyone. The service progressed, and still, nothing besides the small disagreement my husband and I had the night before came to mind. Finally, it hit me. My utter disgust with the McGregors is such a part of me now, it doesn’t even stand out. I’ve lived with it for so long that I can’t see it. It’s like your nose. In reality, you can see it on your face. That’s why when you get some kind of debris on your nose, you see it. Your nose has been apart of your body for so long that your eyes are blind to it.

They showed a seen from a movie called “The Shack.” In the movie, God asks this man to forgive is daughter’s murderer. He tells God he doesn’t know how. God asks him to begin by saying it aloud. After he says it, he admits to God that he’s still angry. God consoles him by saying that’s all right. Now, if that’s how it really goes, I’m willing to give it a try.

Just because I forgive someone doesn’t mean that their actions were justified. Although I’m not sure why, God asks us to forgive just as we’ve been forgive. From experience, I know that forgiveness brings peace. I’m not sure how to explain it other than to say that it’s much easier liking someone than it is to hate them. I just can’t accept that to be the only reason he asks that of us. It doesn’t matter why, though. He asks us to forgive, so I must forgive.

Do I need to tell Him what I’m forgiving them for? What if I don’t know? I know I’m angry. I know I’ve unfollowed them all on Facebook to prevent me from letting one picture make me miserable, but why? Am I angry because they made me feel unworthy? Am I angry because they mislead me and my family? Am I angry because of how Brandon treated me and am blaming everyone that bears his last name?

Or is it deeper than that? Pastor taught about how confusion leads to division. He said we spend time being hurt over things that never happened. Grantross never told me that he disapproves of me as wife. I just assumed that because his aunt did, she taught him to do the same. It’s scary to give him a mind of his own, though. It’s easier to lump them all together. It leaves no room for mistakes.

Something worth documenting is the fact that all the things Elise, Brandon’s mother, said, she said with the understanding that I would never hear her. When she referred to where I slept as the “devil’s bed,” was that really any different than me referring to Kariston as a “dope whore?” You see, I said that in anger. I was angry with Kariston for hurting my husband. I was doing what I thought was best to console him. Was Elise not doing the same? Was she not trying to protect Brandon from falling into sin using language she thought he’d fear?

Doesn’t all of this sound silly now? Michelle, Melissa, Craig, George (etc. McGregors) have never done anything to hurt me. Here is a list of the guilty: Joann, Elise, Marie, Greg, Donovan, Chantelle, Yolunde, Emily, and Brandon. All the rest are only guilty because of their last name. I’ve turned this into much more than it’s worth. My brother is the one that actually began this healing. I was listing their offenses to him and he kept interrupting saying things like “Yes, but isn’t that your fault?” Now, his uninformed bias was wrong but what he was trying to tell me was not: none of it matters now. I will do what’s necessary to assure I soon feel the same.

“I’m not the person you left behind anymore. There’s no one here to miss.”

— Iain Thomas, I Wrote This For You

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.

“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.

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.

*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.

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.