Posted in Uncategorized

my errant muse

Writing ideas: in 1 paragraph, if a stubbed little toe could tell the rest of your body what it was feeling what would it say?If you only had 1 sentence to speak to your 8 year old self what would it be?If you had to make up 1 reason to hate dolphins what would it be?Really short writing can take your brain into weird places you’d never have got to without it, but if you end up penning a best seller can I get my name in the credits?

Jake, the stubbed little toe, wants to convey his sincerest confusion as to how, with the protection of the entire foot and the buffer of his four neighboring piggies, the “large-headed brain” managed to make contact with the stair, through what must have been a very awkward movement, in such a way that caused him to receive the entire wallop himself with no one else even jostled.

Jake had this to say, “I feel targeted. I don’t know what I did to get on their radar! I can’t even fit in my side-toe crevice, I’m too swollen. Don’t look…look what they did to me, the madness! the horror!”

“Love yourself, you are a rad person, and learn from your mistakes, but make them, they give you character.”

And yes, of course, WHEN I pen that bestseller!

Posted in recovery

reLapse = end gaMe?

Maybe not this time.
Hell with the roll I’ve been on probably nothing to be worried about, right.
Eeeeehh wrong.
Of course I’m the chosen one and that means I’m bullet proof.

Which is the belief of every person that goes back out.
Not gonna happen to me. I KNOW what I’m doing.

I’m safe – I don’t use heroin anymore, I smoke meth.
No one OD’s smoking meth, you fall asleep before being able to.
I’m not shooting it when I relapse, THAT would be scary.

“If it is on the internet then it must be true,” Abraham Lincoln.

I got my information from what I’d been told by other users and my internet “research” but when I took another look without trying to get the answer I wanted to hear I found a much darker reality:

In 2017 over 10,000 overdose deaths occurred from the use of Psychostimulants (most common being methamphetamine) and while, yes many of these OD deaths also included an Opioid involvement, over 5,000 of the 10,000+ were caused solely by Psychostimulants.

I don’t know how to produce my drug of choice or my drug of second choice.
Even if I did I wouldn’t be able to tell you exactly what was in what I’d be picking up to use.

I play Russian Roulette with my sanity and mental acuity every time I take a hit.
And say I were to get a batch that amps my system up higher and faster than the “usual,” which I’ve experienced, I could cause my heart to explode.

Methamphetamine overdoses cause heart attacks, strokes and comas and frequently psychosis with or without the physical ailments.

I know this and I still convince myself that it wouldn’t happen to me.
Insanity.
Especially because it has happened to me, and I barely made it back.

We convince ourselves that the people who OD and/or die from drug abuse fucked up, it was their own fault, and we know better. But we’re still using, so apparently we don’t.


OD on Me.

oops… my bad

So my scariest overdose, yes there is more than one to choose from, during my stint using heroin I didn’t even experience. When you use heroin the idea is to get high right? You’re pushing yourself to the brink of overdose every time you shoot the poison into your veins.
I don’t care how attune you are to your use, how well you know your amounts, your tolerance, any measurement you use regularly could be your last if the chemicals react wrong that time.
For me I simply used too much of something stronger than I was used to.
It was the first time I was shooting up without the guy that had introduced me to this devil dance setting up my amount but I had his best friend doing the honors and we went with less than what my usual dose was. I was so excited for oblivion, I didn’t think twice before fully expending the entirety of my rig into my bloodstream.
Immediately I felt the warm embrace of my dark mistress and the intensity continued to rise until I lost the ability to speak, or move, my eyes wouldn’t stay open. I was free floating in the blackest of black engulfing whatever was left of my being, I’d lost all connection to my body and while I desperately wanted to find where it had gone the soothing blackness was lulling me deeper into the abyss. I felt an aching fear that I was lost and not in control of me, of where I was or was going. I have been blown (incredibly, intensely high where you have to keep hold of something inside of you to bring you back to reality eventually) out of my mind numerous times when I thought I’d lost my grip but this time there had not been anything to hold on to.

For what felt like an eternity I floated in the nothingness that the enticing blackness had become. I knew I needed to find my something to hold onto to get back. Back to.. my girls a snippet of what felt like thought and then nothing. No tether. “My girls” meant less and less to whatever processing I was clinging to. I felt nothing at all.
Almost fully succumbed to whatever total enmeshment that felt less and less when everything turned white and spun so fast if I’d had a stomach still I would have been sick for sure. I feel something with my being, almost like something slipping through my fingers. The enormity of emotions I experienced realizing I’d found my connection, my hold onto to get back intangible way back.
While I felt so close to what I was yearning for by instinct my thoughts and feelings swirled in some mush that felt muddied and indistinct.
I desperately wanted to make sense of the murky swirls and an overwhelming sense of dread overtook all of my focus.
Noise! Just realizing that it had been more than silent during my experience the incomprehensible moaning got faster, frantic. I was feeling the sound more than hearing it and the cloudy froth was in all of my senses.
As though I’d been snapped into place, a searing burn erupted in my lungs and I physically felt all my extremities go from numb to pins and needles in a wave. It was as though my whole body was experiencing the sensation of “waking up” like if my foot had fallen asleep. It was the best worst sensation to be able to be reconnected with my body but the pins and needles phenomenon intensifying in all the wrong places.
My lung was still inflamed and I felt like I had the worst heartburn bubbling up and roiling making bile sear my throat as I painfully swallowed gulps of air that intensified the burning in my chest. It was excruciating and uncomfortable but my eyes opening and seeing shapes and fuzz and knowing that I was real and whole again dulled my pain as my senses were flooded with circuitry.

Slowly I began to comprehend what was going on around me. My head lolled half in, half out of the passenger window of my car as the wind whipped by. The pain in my body was again numbed but this time it was because I was so cold, shaking, shivering, and soaking wet with ice cold water.
The car jerked and whipped my head and neck to have a view of the driver’s side of the, apparently speeding, Honda Civic. We hit another jaunt in the road and I found out I was not seat-belted in as flew forward in my seat coming to rest sideways on the floor.
“Oh shit, Lyric, you’re back!” Josh whooped as he jerked the car around the cul-de-sac pulling into Colby’s driveway. I didn’t have any recollection of having left the bedroom.

Come to find out I immediately slumped over and stopped breathing after I stopped being able to speak. Instead of calling an ambulance Colby and Josh carried my unconscious, not breathing body out to the car and propped me up against it. Then they proceeded to drench me with the hose in 30 degree weather. I .. don’t know, why. I think the idea was to shock my system into forcing me to breathe. The explanation as to why no ambulance was called and why I was hurdled off property was also never articulated.
After the hose down Josh says he thought I was breathing but he couldn’t totally tell and he had to take me away from the house so he loaded me into the passenger seat and hoped the wind in my face would help me…possibly breathe or come to? I don’t think Josh had a clue what he was going for but panic set in for him when I started turning a bluish white in the face. I think he probably disagreed with his earlier assessment that the hose had gotten me breathing again.
So that is why he was whipping my car around the neighborhood all jerkily – to try to jolt me awake or breathing or … pretty much he was expecting me to die and had no clue what to do.
I was cold and couldn’t shake the cobwebs from my brain.
“That might’ve been too much for me,” I chuckled at a mortified looking Josh.
“It was way stronger than we expected and when I went to stop you from doing the whole thing I was too late and you stopped breathing.”

I knew to always test the waters before doing the entire shot. I knew that. I just didn’t that time. I always made sure. Except that time I didn’t.

Yeah I know I was warning of methamphetamine overdoses and this was a heroin OD but I got vivid flash backs and had to share, I remember the experience like it just happened, clearer now it seems.
This was my worst overdose and I’d love to say that I got scared, I took better precaution (wouldn’t make a difference anyway), I quit or at least slowed down, but it may as well have not occurred with the way I did nothing to prevent it happening again.

Broke my bRain, goed iNsaNe
yet I still dabbLe in that methamphetamine…

“Jesus was calling me, telling me to rid myself of all things but me.”
“Did he say no clothes though … or was that maybe a little of your own interpretation?”
“You’re such an asshole.”
….
“It really made all sorts of sense in the moment.”
“So you started dropping stuff all the way at the other end and at random all along the way?”
“I don’t like to make things easy, do I?”

….to be continued…




Posted in Uncategorized

mommy’s girls

My girls have been through so much turmoil in the past few years because of my poor choices and addiction. Still today I was amazed, touched, and reminded of what is truly important when I read the inscriptions on their cards they gave me.

Hope, 7:

Happy Mother’s Day

Mom

You are as pretty as a tulip

Mom

You are as nice as a queen

Mom

You take care of me

Mom

I love you so much

Mom

Super amazing

Extraordinary

So awesome

Just so nice

I love you

Always together forever

Cool

Hope, 7
she chose all the words and phrases
The poem she chose adj, verbs, and nouns to fill in

I was so touched and elated, and surprised. I rarely get to see her and was worried that she was growing away from me but how excited she was about the phrases and words she used to describe me showed me our bond is as strong, maybe even stronger, as it always was. This little girl makes me so happy, her exuberance for life is inspiring.

Riley, 12:

Some people love making other people happy –
they’re called Moms.
You’re the kind of mom
Who makes this world
A better place
Just by being
The loving person
You are.
Happy Mothers Day

The inscription on the card she picked out
It is covered in flutterbies [butterflies] which we both love

You are the absolute best in my eyes!
I love you!

Riley, 12
her personal message

This sweet, strong, beautiful child makes me so proud. She admits, I knew it had been so I asked once it had passed, she hated me for the first year after all the upheaval happened in our lives because she was hearing horrible things about me regularly. Our bond and connection now is even more unbreakable than ever for it. She’s my mini-me and just makes this world a better place to live in.

I am such a lucky mom. My children have forgiven me and never stopped loving me (Riley only hated me because she was hurt by me, her mom, and that is all out of love) even though I messed up so big time. I don’t tell my kids everything but I admit my mistakes in age appropriate ways and make sure they never forget that they are my favorite part of life.

Posted in liFe on liFe's TerMs

Emotionally obtuse, me? It


I feel my feels and when I’m ready… I dust myself off and step back in the ring a little more prepared.

Max robes, jesscape.com

Until just recently I hadn’t heard that saying to “feel your feels [feelings]” and I overheard my daughter, Riley, telling her boyfriend that she understood that that was what he was doing and my amazing 12 year old empowered her counterpart to do so however he needed and she would be there for him. My girl is showing empathy! There are a lot of other emotions and hormonal scatterbrain going on in her preteen years so for her to be learning and embracing the complexities of empathy is impressive. She was unaware of the word or action and we had a great discussion on it and her usage and my pride in her last night.

I would say I “struggle” with empathy but that is a lie I know how to be empathetic I would just rather cut the cord of bullshit and get down to the brass tact of the issue. I teach my kids empathy, I know it is important in being a good person to be empathetic, I often am empathetic to an extent but, what is the saying, those who can’t do, teach? Joking, joking. I just have no appetite for listening to someone knowingly lie to themselves to feel better in a situation where they were wrong and know it but are expecting support for their delusions. I’ll admit, some people are further down the rabbit hole of deluding themselves and may not realize when they are in the wrong, those who are the perpetual victim.

But, this is not about them, and that is the heart of the problem with my no nonsense approach to analyzing and/or “helping” in situations (when I’m asked to, I no longer just throw my two cents around except sometimes with coworkers), I’m not sensitive to the other person’s self-denial. I also don’t like to be bullshitted. I can and do bullshit my way around some situations in life that I don’t feel like dealing with but that doesn’t bring about resolution it just placates my ego. It is likely that more often than not I am making a true ass out of myself in talking circuitously instead of taking responsibility and people are just unwilling to call me out on it. So that is what I do for the betterment of everyone.

I would love (and hate in the moment as has been the case) if people would call me on my bullshit. One of my favorite people in the world is my dad and good, bad, or indifferent he has taught me the art of bullshitting; he is also the person I can trust to not play into my self-denial and will call me on the carpet every time. That I love! That I need! So that is also what I do, not always, I know when someone is not ready for self-actualization and don’t push it but I try to make it understood that we can be honest and have a real discussion, no judgement.

Empathy is about the other person, I know, and I am not being selfless as is needed to hone this interpersonal skill but I also know (ego! alert) I am making a positive difference. Yeah I can’t bullshit myself, my dad believes I am a sociopath and I tend to agree I have some tendencies leaning that direction, many people prefer to stay deluded and just be agreed with which is their right so long as they don’t ask my advice.

My aunt Demi is a beautiful, kindhearted train wreck. When we first got back into contact regularly a few months back she learned quickly and brutally that I wouldn’t cosign her bullshit. She still tries it with me and come to find out she doesn’t always see her fault (so she says) and I help her see, so see I’m helping. I’m cynical because I know that I know when I’m wrong even if I will steadfastly play the role of the victim. I do also forget that other people’s minds don’t work the same as mine, as mine doesn’t work the same as other people’s all the time.

My boyfriend has a buddy that will cosign ALL his bullshit and then write another check and it is sickening to witness. When he asked if it was okay that he was planning to ghost me after three years ol’ boy said with all he had done for me over that time it was perfectly understandable and he was the good person in the situation and always had been. Alex talks to him a lot less after I pointed it out because that is not a friend, that is an enabler.

I stayed in self-denial about my fault in losing my girls and still sometimes forget to remember my part. My dad kept me honest throughout though and let me hide in my bullshit only after I admitted my responsibility. That is love and true friendship to me.

So this is a bit of a character defect, or is it? I think it’s on the fence because my intentions are good in wanting to help someone get to the crutch of the issue but a bit selfish in not allowing them to decide when to process their own bullshit. Really if they ask I think it is my right to give my honest opinion but is it right?

I’ve only had a few truly devastating and traumatic situations in my life so I only know from those that I prefer tough love and brutal honesty to commiseration. I also don’t process all emotions. Until today I could not wrap my brain around anger, it just seemed nonsensical and counterproductive to a positive outcome but after reading the reasoning for a person’s experience of anger earlier I gained a bit of understanding as to why people get angry.

Always learning. I realize empathy can be used for sharing all different feelings and emotions through another person’s experience with them. I am just ranting about the enabling kind with a specific kind of people that I have run into a lot throughout life so it seems common and hopefully is relatable. It could also speak to the company I’ve always kept!

My character defects: bullshitting, lying, avoidance, selfishness, pride, ego, manipulation, self-aggrandizing, impatience,







Posted in recovery

I AM YOUR DISEASE

I Am Your Disease

You know who I am, you’ve called me your friend,
Wishes of misery and heartache I send,
I want only to see that you’re brought to your knees,
I’m the devil inside you, I am your disease.

I’ll invade all your thoughts, I’ll take hostage your soul,
I’ll become your new master, in total control,
I’ll maim your emotions, I’ll run the whole game,
Till your entire existence is crippled with shame.

When you call me I come, sometimes in disguise,
Quite often I’ll take you by total surprise,
But take you I will, and just as you’ve feared,
I’ll only want to hurt you, with no mercy spared.

If you have your own family, I will see it destroyed,
I’ll steal every pleasure in life you’ve enjoyed,
I’ll not only hurt you, I’ll kill if I please,
I’m your worst living nightmare, I am your disease.

I bring self destruction, but still you can’t tell,
I’ll sweep through heaven, then drop you in hell,
I’ll chase you forever, wherever you go,
And then when I catch you, you won’t even know.

I’ll sometimes lay silent, just waiting to strike,
What’s yours becomes mine, cause I take what I like.
I’ll take all you own and I won’t care who sees,
I’m your constant companion… I am your disease.

If you have any honour, I’ll strip it away,
You’ll lose all your hope and forget how to pray,
I’ll leave you in darkness, while blindly you stare,
I’ll reduce you to nothing, and won’t even care.

So, don’t take for granted my powers sublime,
I’ll bend and I’ll break you, time after time,
I’ll crumble your world with the greatest of ease,
I’m that madman inside you… I am your disease.

But today I’m real angry… you want to know why?
I let this treatment centre full of Addicts entirely slip by,
How did I lose you? Where did I go wrong?
One minute I had you… the next you were gone.

You can’t just dismiss all the good times we’ve shared,
When you were alone… wasn’t it I who appeared?
When you sold those possessions you knew you would need,
Wasn’t I the first one who stepped in and agreed?

Now look at you bastards, you’re all thinking clear,
You escaped with your lives when you found your way here,
Only fools think they’re winners when admitting defeat,
It’s what you must say when you’re claiming your seat.

Go ahead and surrender, if that’s what you choose,
But, I’m not giving up cause I can’t stand to lose.
So stand in your groups and support hand in hand,
Better choices will save you… leaving me damned.

Well, be damned all you people seeking treatment each week,
Be damned inner strength, however unique,
Be damned all your sayings, be damned your cliches,
Be damned every Addict, who back to me strays.

For I know it will happen, I’ve seen it before,
Those who love misery will crawl back for more.
So take comfort in knowing, I’m waiting right here,
But next time around, you’d just better beware.

You think that you’re stronger or smarter this time,
There isn’t a mountain or hill you can’t climb.
Well if that’s what you’re thinking, you ain’t learned a thing,
I’ll still knock you silly if you step back in my ring.

But you say you surrendered, so what can I do?
It’s so sad in a way, I had big plans for you,
Creating your nightmare for me was a dream,
I’m sure gonna miss you… we made quite a team.

So please don’t forget me, I won’t forget you,
I’ll stand by your side watching all that you do,
I’m ready and waiting so call if you please,
I won’t let you forget me… I am your disease.

-Unknown

I am so impressed. I wish there was someone to credit its creation to.
No more writing for me, I’m not going to follow that up.
The author is spot on, though!

Posted in liFe on liFe's TerMs, recovery

0.21 – BE now : aspire FOR tomorrow


Prepare for your my future?

 

    Lately, I have been planning (and failing to accomplish) small weekly goals and setting a task to achieve daily (blogging every day! I will get there) to feel myself progressing. While I have yet to reach any of my goals to their fulfillment making them has kept me motivated and constantly thinking creatively; the fact that I am continuing to pursue blogging is proof of that reserved determination. So, I figure, since I’m already so far ahead of the curve, I might as well get even more ambitious and set out a path – barebones rough outline to expand upon in time – to follow toward a my purpose. My logic is senseless and I do so enjoy it as such; it keeps my chaos a tad more organized.

     

   What got me on the idea of sketching out an outline of my way from here to there, there being my intention, my plan, my best outcome, is the topic above being asked of us at treatment today. I got on a roll and it got me amped! I’m also all over the place in regards to my timeline’s synchronicity so that will balance out as our ideas mature along the journey. So here is the synopsis of what I set out to Get ‘er done! in the next 10 years. Remember! it is my first draft of my second first draft:


=_= first time in my life that I am setting long term goals and I’m writing them down 2x now! was scared of goals because they meant effort and the ability to fail. now i’m excited to keep on trying until I thrive. and not stop there. =_+

 

Where do I see myself in 1 year.
  5 years. 10 years.? 


+In 1 month I get my court case dismissed after completing two years of probation so for the next thirty days no shenanigans for sure I want those charges disappeared!
+Over the next couple of months I’m going to be working my most workiest so that the company I’m temping for will hire me on full time (they’ve already brought it up as an idea – yeah they came to me so that rocked) or I’ll take part-time as an ACTUAL employee.wink
+Within 3 months I’d like to have earned 100 followers to this blog I be’s a writing AND get my car all up to snuff serviced to be on point for the next while.
**some ideas to get it so** 
–oil and filter change
–replace spark plugs
–replace any other filters and replenish fluids
–brakes done
–alignment aligned 
((ideas are welcome I know exactly ^that^ much about what I need to do to maintain my car))
+By my daughter’s 8th birthday in August, about 4 months away, I will have worked with an attorney to have gotten my visits on track with Hope. -hopefully it will be every other weekend by then-
+At 6 months I would like to have enough money saved up that I can feasibly put aside enough monthly to be in the position to live on my own. Not that I will but that I will be ABLE to.
+A year from now I plan to be petitioning the courts for more time with my daughters – an extra afterschool overnight per week or every other, I’m thinking.
+In 5 years time I will have both my girls full time again (as long as that is the choice they want still) and we’ll live in a one-story three bedroom home. The kids will share rooms with their respective sexes (if it’s still the 6 of us); the house will be big enough for comfort but cozy with affection. There is the likely possibility of a yard and one, or two, dogs. +Riley will be on her way out of the nest in just 6 years!+
+When I am 43 in TEN years I will have begun and succeeded in paying off my student loans and the credit card debt left to me from my exes. I will be debt free!


A few extras

  • In 5 years this – the hardships to endure in the aftermath of my addiction – will all be a distant memory.
  • Next few weeks ~ diet change :_: breakFast < protein shakes w.Collagen supplement / lunch < fruit smoothies w.Creatine and fat burner supplements / weaning off of NOS and adding in more water / dinner < meat size of my fist, two fistfulls of veggies, over rice
  • Over the following few months ~ eXercise regimen :_: one@ctivity every other day for 30 minutes ie. yoga, walking, jogging, swimming, etc.
  • As things continue to progress I want to eventually create my own website for my blog!
  • To get my “storagerooms cleared out I will take ONE box fill it with junk to get rid of or donate and do so ONCE a week until complete.


So tAdA!
I have more purpose.

“He who has a why to live for
can bear almost any how.”
friedrich nietzsche

Posted in liFe on liFe's TerMs, recovery

0.9 – dueling experiments *throwaway*

Wonders I’m wondering.
Serendipitous topic ideas running unfiltered through my noggin.
Jotted some scribbles to decipher..
Fun new word!
As I go, maybe, I’ll explain.
grasp those straws!

kiLLing it with kindness. brad word for word what I have in my notepad[app]

It’s the first entry and I know what it’s about. My entitled attitude having self…
Earlier this morning I was being a real snooty princess type (which I don’t do ever) about getting to finish the new parts before having to go back to the usual ones in that I was hoarding the newbies and got all protective of my stash when Brad showed up wanting in on the goods.
He ACTUALLY works there (on probation) but just recently graduated out of temp-status and is a bit “off” or maybe just on the spectrum.
Either way I called it right with this note.
I started off being snarky and dismissive, being pretty emasculating to boot, a real grade A asshole, I now realize, and I was in a good mood all the while.
I was even so petty that I wouldn’t move my parts an inch to give him room at his “usual” (when he works with us lowly temps-I’m being honest about my attitude to my embarrassment and it is how he treats us: “YOU guys … while I [something more important]) spot at the table. My reasoning: in order for him to get it at all he just literally rolled his chair into the newest temp without even an excuse me so I was getting payback … for her. The old lady next to me moved my stuff when I left the table and reminded me about compassion when I returned.
Well HELLO exactly what I needed to hear, right?
Guess it wasn’t enough for me because I made a point to, calmly yet snappily, tell Brad that he has a habit of tornado-ing through other people’s work areas to create his own space. Damned if the guy didn’t thank me, for letting him know, SINCERELY, not a drop of sarcasm.
THAT snapped me out of my Brad-warpath I was on and it wasn’t even an hour into the day. I went back and started my day over like they say to do in Alcoholics Anonymous

GOAL: attend AA tomorrow before Riley arrives

and I decided kindness was my kick for the day and maybe even a dash of empathy!
It worked though, Brad and I got along well and not in the fake coworkers kind of way but we had some interesting conversations (well interesting to him but I played ball, with empathy even – for myself – no really, I was good).
What made me know that we’d gotten somewhere in our coworkship (coworker relationship, its a thing!..) was when he said to me, he goes, “If I ever make inappropriate comments or make anyone feel uncomfortable, can you please let me know? I can’t always tell.” Even better than just anyone asking such a proactive request, Brad’s nickname (and our next topic suggestion) is Two-Cents… you’ll see


It does not matter how slowly you go

as long as you do not stop.

Confucius

two-cent$again just like my notepad[app] has it


So I got excited and got ahead of myself tripping over that last sentence.
I’m doing html coding – is that correct? – to relearn how to build a webpage
(I first learned in 5th grade, I believe, and never did use it so I lost it)
and after this mess of a post will add SUBTLETIES to future posts and this allows me to do that. Okay, sorry, run-on big time.


Right, Brad! two-cent$ got his nickname for the fact that he will offputtingly interject himself into your already booked conversation using some incredibly unhumorous statement – sometimes while someone else is still talking – that, of course, he and only he finds hilarious and very rarely does he have any clue as to what the conversation is actually about so it is even more of a sore thumb. Occasionally he’ll grab a word he hears someone say or thinks he does, and, with no context, just roll with that to try to get included.
It is CRINGY, to steal my daughter’s word – I now get what it means and the feeling that word exudes is borderline physically painful.
two-cent$ is very aware that he does this, so when he asked me to let him know about making people uncomfortable…I was straight up:
“Dude [insert above description] so do you mean when you’re not INTENTIONALLY doing so? How do I…decide?” No sugar getting coated, we’re buds now, right?.
Then it gets downright depressing as he tells me – his best coworkship-person – about how he eats his meals in his room now because he got tired of having nothing to add to his parents’ conversation at the dinner table. He kept reminding me that they really want him to eat down there with them but that the only way he was part of conversations was by doing what he does: knowingly rudely interrupting people’s conversations.
He definitely is socially awkward but he knows what he’s doing is not acceptable adult real-world behavior.
I did tell him I would keep him apprised of any other social ineptitude I may witness.

“Tired minds don’t plan well.

Sleep first. Plan later.”

Walter Reisch

laSt and beSt ~ lotSa wordS

introducing my newest word

with its multitude of fraternal twins:

Earworm aka a brainworm, sticky music, stuck song syndrome, or Involuntary Musical Imagery (IMI) is a catchy piece of music that continually repeats through a person’s mind after it is no longer playing.

my Earworm today

More words! some of my favorite lyrics ever! (not the whole song, which rocks) but these:

This is how it works
You’re young until you’re not
You love until you don’t
You try until you can’t
You laugh until you cry
You cry until you laugh
And everyone must breathe
Until their dying breath

No, this is how it works
You peer inside yourself
You take the things you like
And try to love the things you took
And then you take that love you made
And stick it into some
Someone else’s heart
Pumping someone else’s blood
And walking arm in arm
You hope it don’t get harmed
But even if it does
You’ll just do it all again

Regina Spektor, On the Radio

I absolutely adore these lyrics. It explains life and relationships to the T and makes me smile while doing it. I’ll break it down for your entertainment and hopeful enjoyment later. It is too late and I am too tired but here is the rest of my topics list:

thank you for indulging me while I try

HTML

Posted in recovery

0.8 – the 5 indecent behaviors of a junkie

My addict behaviors (also the top 5 expected): lying, manipulation, criminality, blame shifting, and verbal abuse.

I’m a pretty honest person. Hot damn! that is a lie. Definitely not where my addiction is concerned. Every time I use I have to make and take texts or phone calls that I will need to sanitize from my phone (making me a hypocrite because I expect my boyfriend not to do just that) after the deal is completed. My whereabouts for the lost time spent scoring are also a lie or usually a well-timed execution so that no one noticed my absence and thus I omit. Then every time I actually consume the drug, if I don’t wait until I am home alone, I make up some excuse or another for going to the store so I can use in my car down the block. Back when I shot up I could just go into the restroom of anywhere and do my thing. Smoking is a pain because, while my boyfriend disagrees, I believe meth has a smell and heroin for sure did, it creates smoke and pipes or sheets of foil are not easy to quickly hide inconspicuously. Every time I’ve attempted to hide either I have been caught red-handed. The boyfriend finding my rigs (needles) after going through my purse was the only way I got caught on that front. I am NOT promoting the use of needles – I wish I NEVER had and NEVER will again (I may relapse but am NOT going back to that insane method of drug use – I should have died so many times) and am beyond lucky to be alive after having done so. I am a liar, not to you, I’m honest with you and that is one of the difficult things about blogging my sobriety including my fuck ups because even though I don’t know you it is humiliating. I don’t actively lie in my sobriety I just omit certain things that I wouldn’t appreciate the boyfriend doing to me that I am doing (yeah I see the hypocrisy and the asshole I am) like messaging with a sober friend (who is male and therein lies the problem). See I know I am not doing anything wrong but I’m not doing something right. I just appreciate the support and attention! yeah. Alex and I have an agreement that we don’t participate in any form of relationship (friendship included) with members of the opposite sex because there is no good reason why we would need validation or attention from someone that is not the two of us. Its flawed thinking but it is a respect thing that we agree on. Thankfully he doesn’t do social media and I’m a super sleuth of all things cell phone so I am unworried, he got caught when he tried to step outside the terms and has been on good behavior since. Oh yeah we were talking about ME the liar. Other than that facebook contact and the occasional check-in by old friends on facebook I don’t hide anything else. Oh but back to being high I also have to pretend to be sober, rarely do I believe I fool Alex and probably Joke’s on me! thinking I’m fooling anybody else. Lying is painful though it rots a pit in your gut and the only way to cure that is through the agony of admitting the truth! I’ve done so though. After I got sober for my decent length of sobriety before the October relapse I admitted all my wrongs and lies to Alex. This guy is awesome-sauce staying with me after I admitted to pawning all his valuable jewelry among a bevy of other trespasses and lies. What a freaking guy!
Before moving onto my manipulation I thought I’d address the big purple elephant bouncing in the corner: I realize that by my not being honest in my relationship I am creating the mistrust I hate. If I can keep him in the dark then of course he’s probably got some shadow over me and even if that is not the case that is what I do believe. I feel kind of indifferent about it because he did who-knows-what with that female I caught him talking inappropriately to. I’m still so hurt by that that I’ll blame shift all day long! But yeah I see the cycle and don’t like that I am perpetuating it. Not proud of any of my pettiness.

I can bullshit my way through most situations high or sober, I am a bullshitter – it is a family trait passed down on my father’s side and it hasn’t skipped a generation or child in our family yet! Which yes I understand entails lying but it is smooth wordplay and if done right everyone walks away feeling like a winner. My bullshitting ways took a drug addled left turn to become manipulation right before my very eyes. I didn’t even realize I was doing it but I usually get what I want so the change wasn’t apparent. And then I did something I am super ashamed of but can never make unhappen – I threatened to commit suicide if Alex didn’t stay home from work with me. Ugh. Blah. Spit. Then I started seeing how I was playing on many people’s emotions and kindness to keep getting what I wanted when I wanted it. Alex got the worst of it. I was the master of guilt and could make a person feel bad for doing something good. My “friends” (other addicts) tried and failed to manipulate me while I was pulling their strings. And I felt what I was doing was okay! Now I get that it is abusive to manipulate someone and sometimes have to work hard not to – I did it for more than two weeks so it because a habit. The lawyer I used that screwed me over told me that I should be Trump’s spokeswoman because I could give Sarah Sanders (his actual spokeswomen) a run for her money in spinning truths. I base every exaggeration, lie, or spun truth on the truth because outright lying is too hard to keep straight. I am proud of my powers of persuasion!

A criminal? Who me? Never! and she lies again (just a joke I’m honest with you!). So I’m over thirty and have a nearly clean record. I’d gotten a possession of paraphernalia (I spelled that letter-twister right the first time!) for marijuana charge right after I turned 18 and a MIP Minor in Possession charge at 19 (alcohol). What a rebel I was! Yeah, not really but I did get away with a lot more I could have been in trouble for. Then, however, I got homeless. In order to get drugs, we would boost stuff that Mick (my dealer) wanted to pay for them so that got me started shoplifting. I really liked shoplifting; it made a lot more sense to me to just take what I wanted rather than pay for it. I liked it so much so that when I finally had money and started buying things again I had a hard time. I still could steal a lot of what I buy but I don’t have that meth-confidence that gave me the gumption to walk out the door without paying. I mostly stole gifts for my girls and jewelry – they have since taken the jewelry completely out of the Fred Meyer I would shoplift the fashion jewelry from. I’d forgotten about how I got started stealing until I remembered, mere moments ago, what I shared with you. Around the same time as the boosting for drugs campaign while I was homeless I stepped up my unlawful game and stepped into the world of prostitution. For about two weeks I sold myself through sex or a blow job more often than not. It is a surreal endeavor that I do not recall much of. I had a couple regulars, well men who wanted to be my regulars if I’d continued, who paid me very well. My excuse was that I had never enjoyed sex (true story save for 2 occasions) and had been having it for free for years so why not get paid for my displeasure. I carried bags and a backpack so I looked like some high school kid strolling down the street at ungodly hours. I don’t think the police were trying to stop the prostitution as it was an area known for it and I didn’t get stopped once. I found it weird, also, that I just wore regular clothes (and I don’t dress at all slutty quite the opposite) and had a three car back up at one point. Not proud, not ashamed, leaving my unsettling choices there in the past where they belong.

I wasn’t a big blame shifter but I did do my fair share during the custody cases. Trust you me it was not that I was on drugs and not willing to go to rehab that it all blew up in my face nope nosiree, it actually wasn’t they didn’t base it off of that but it definitely wouldn’t have hurt. The courts went off of a few stories Grayson made up to scare my family into being on his side but weren’t in any way true and the other lies he told throughout the court proceedings. I didn’t help my case by continuing to use though and know I allowed for his lies to be seen as possible with my action or inaction or both. I’ve accepted most everything and do take responsibility for my use but there are some things I’ll never agree with. And I take and took the blame for where I am at in life and know it is my decisions that have gotten me here. I’m pretty happy here, now, so I’m going to stay that way by not delving too deep into this blame shifting business,

Last but definitely not my least is verbal abuse. Get me high and give a cell phone with the ability to text as much as I want as many times as I want and numbers for the people guilty of getting involved in my life unasked and taking my kids from me. I can twist words into knives and convince a person to stab themselves with them. I’m a much better manipulator when I’m not on the spot and can edit my commentary. Words are my most powerful weapon and I utilized this during my addiction. I was superior and knew more than anyone else or could at least make it sound like I did. Alex had to deal with a lot of verbal abuse spewed at him at all hours and with no regard to him working hard every day to keep us going. I was an awful jackass to him for a bit while I was getting high. I can honestly say that I was a piece of crap as an addict for a period as most of these things were overlapping on my timeline.

“Don’t be defined by your past. It was a lesson, not a life sentence.”

Unknown

dopefiend Out!

Posted in recovery

0.2-0.6 |=!\\/3 |)4`/5 5|_33|D

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Okay I’ll stop that now.
The hangover from methamphetamine is sleep.
For the past five days (see it yet??) I have been either at work or asleep. And the awake time I had over the past weekend was spent solely on time with my daughter, Riley while she was here for the weekend (as she is every weekend!!! yayers).
Just wanted to check-in and let ya know that I am still sober and having my first day where I can stay awake after work.
Fun Fact: “Symptoms of fatigue usually peak around the fifth day of withdrawal, during which people will sleep an average of 11 hours per day (a phenomenon known as hypersomnia)” -verywellmind.com
This evening I feel plugged in a bit but was struggling all day at work…

AND EATING holy carpe dieming it with food I am.
Not a positive whatsoever, however, because I relapse to get my thin figure back and have body image issues up the yang! I have gotten to that yikes! stage of starting to look like a meth user and realized I’d gone too far (after I’d gotten sobered up) so I’m not aiming for a twig-like existence. I just know the weight I’m comfortable at but every time I start and stop using I’m throwing my metabolism for a loop and seem to gain more, quicker than the time I stopped prior. I eat the same dang things every time and drink the same crap in excess too. I know what not to eat and that is exactly what I eat when I’m coming down off of meth. And my energy drink consumption is out of control!! Not only am I gaining weight from crap food but I’m bloated to all get out from these damn NOS I’m chugging ALL DAY! Food sounds disgusting right now but that’s because I’ve got a nauseating head ache.
IDEA!

While I am thinking of one I’m going to make a list of this weeks goals and I’ll put them in my goals section later.
1. Blog daily (every week)
2. Drink only 2 NOS per day (what I just though of)
3. Get paperwork (check docs “note to self” and get started on new plan) for Grayson for custody ((same as last week since not achieved))
4. Research self-motivation techniques and practices. Blog ideas!

I feel better about life just having done that and even though I didn’t accomplish my goals from last week I’m not feeling less than because of it. I’ve been too tired to care about anything besides sleep and it may catch back up with me tomorrow so getting something done today! I set goals 😉 I’ve come up with some cool ideas in my “note to self” document made for brainstorming. I’ve blogged after 5 days of hiatus!!

If you haven’t yet try setting some easy goals for yourself for the remainder of the week, it feels delicious!
THIS is where I found the best app for goal setting, task planning/setting/reminders, and brainstorming. It talks about aiding teams but works great solo, for me at least.
Check it out, it makes organizing your to-do’s kind of fun!!

**Not advertising, no pay in this for me, just sharing cool stuff I’ve come across and found worthwhile**

On to today’s blog…

See you there I hope!

Posted in liFe on liFe's TerMs, recovery

Rock boTTom – kNockeD dowN and kickeD aRound

I hate this story but it is a HUGE part of my life story and must be told at some point so why not now?

The most importantest: I have two daughters, Riley and Hope, now they are 12 and 7 respectively but at the time of the abduction by my ex Grayson (Hope’s dad, Riley’s stepdad) they were 9 and 4. I had spent nearly every moment of Hope’s life with her up until that day and Riley had gone on a couple vacations with Grandma but otherwise only left my side to go to school. These two are my whole world and always will be. I had made some choices that left us homeless after a caregiver live-in (for me and my girls too good to be true right…bed bugs!) position went awry and we were no longer able to stay there and my grandparents (where we had been staying prior to moving for the job) wouldn’t let me go back, only the girls could. And I did send them to stay there for a week while I got us set up in the motel and Riley’s transportation arrangements made for school got worked out. At that point it was the longest period I’d been away from Hope ever and I thought THAT was hard, little did I know what Grayson had in store.

If only I’d been there: Grayson came to our motel where he had picked the girls up and taken them for dinner two days prior while I was at the store and they were with their babysitter, Tiffeny. He told Tiffeny that he was taking them for dinner and they’d be back in an hour or two. Instead Grayson took the girls and left Tacoma and took them to where he’d been staying – with his new family he’d acquired while not visiting the girls for months – in Seattle. He knew I didn’t have a vehicle and had no means of getting anywhere near Seattle but he made sure that wouldn’t have mattered anyway. When I called him to see when they’d be back, as it had been more than a couple hours by then, he refused to tell me where they were or let me talk to them. And, of course, he refused to bring them back.
I felt that I couldn’t do anything about it cause I didn’t even have a car or a real place for us to live so I didn’t think the police were going to help me. I couldn’t even tell them where they were and there wasn’t a parenting plan in place for Hope so he had as much “rights” to her as I did.

What I could have, would have, should have gotten him was on kidnapping Riley because he had NO parental ANYTHING to her and definitely didn’t have my or her father’s [Aiden’s] permission to take her. I realized this then, not right away but within the week at most, but had already spun myself out to forget.

I’ve always upheld that I wasn’t getting high around my kids and then Grayson took them SO I got high. It was also my excuse for having methamphetamine (thankfully, as it could have made matters worse for me, there was no heroin, how not is still a wonder to me) in an exorbitant amount in my hair follicle test – I had binged AFTER he’d taken my kids and refused to bring them back. The truth must be very obvious by now: I’d definitely gotten high while I was with (not in the same room ever nor in their view) my girls since I was getting high and I was a stay at home mom who was always with my girls and been around them while high more often in the years since my accident than not. I did a hardcore binge on meth and heroin after he took my babies and at the time left me with no hint at even what city they were in.

I use the word devastated for my experience being, at the very least, emotionally cheated on and finding out but the true definition of devastation is what I felt without my girls along with the awareness that NOTHING WOULD EVER BE THE SAME AGAIN. Not knowing that they were okay nearly killed me, they needed me they didn’t know anything but their mommy! And that he wouldn’t even let me talk to them to reassure them or just hear that they weren’t in any anguish, like I was, further compounded my genuine desire to die. The only thing that kept me going was that they still needed me and no matter what I couldn’t leave them behind on this Earth without their mom, not by my doing at least.

I’ve never experienced such loss before or since and the hole it tore through me was an indescribable combination of heartbreak and despair made even more intense by it being my babies, my life, my everything and having them ripped from me so abruptly and unexpectedly. I didn’t even get to hug or kiss them goodbye.

Because my emotions were so forceful and gut wrenching and after I gave up begging Grayson to let me talk to my girls and hung up on his holier-than-thou bash-Lyric-a-thon (I’ve used plenty of drugs with this guy and knew he was still using and drinking so I couldn’t be bothered with his dripping hypocrisy if I wasn’t going to talk to my kids), I dove straight into my stash and did up the entirety.

I didn’t care if I ODed, I actually would have preferred it. So I got blown (really really frikkin high) and just kept on going to forget I even existed. Even through my drug-induced haze of numbness the pain of being without my kids was the most sickeningly intense, excruciating emptiness. I thought I was, and welcomed, having a heart attack because I had shooting pains in my heart and a restriction in my chest crushing me into the little ball that I stayed rolled into for hours, geetered (really really frikkin high) and sobbing. I must have looked a mess and the depressed, crying girl in the corner is always to be avoided less you fall into their low. I lost a big part of my self, that I’ll never get back, when that went down.

And then I started my spiral, ran straight to the shit- which got me screwed on that hair follicle and with Grayson’s lies backed by my grandparents newfound knowledge of my lifestyle and the happenings within it being taken as God’s word by my GAL I was toast before I even knew I had an emergency hearing for my grandparents to take custody of Riley. I sobered up for that few hours and agreed that Riley would temporarily stay with my grandparents while I got back on my feet and into housing for us.

I got to see Hope being held by a stranger of a woman who tried to keep her from me and came to find out this was Grayson’s new family, her two sons Mikaela and Montgomery (yeah I don’t have any explanation to either) were in the truck. I realized she was purposefully flaunting my daughter to screw with me and went to find Grayson. I got about 10 minutes of time with Hope and agreed to them taking Riley camping and wrote a release note for picking her up at school. I figured I should be as amicable as I could fake so that I could get as much information as possible.

Grayson was there at the emergency hearing to see that his plan had gone as hoped – he had set everything in motion before he even knew where we were staying. After not having a vehicle or license the entire 6 years we were together his daddy came to visit and paid off his tickets, got him his license, and bought him a truck and insurance spending over $20,000 and with Grayson, as always, not having to take any responsibility or action on his own. He’d been talking to my grandparents and his lies (and I’d be honest if he was telling truths but these were fake and too ridiculous for a normal, rational and knowledgeable people to even begin to take seriously or anyone who had been around Grayson to buy into) worked like a charm in convincing my grandmother he’d been doing all the work with the girls and covering for my lack of involvement and he had been some upstanding “husband” and “father” the whole time we were together. In reality he couldn’t keep a job, leeched off of unemployment that I did the job searches and paperwork for him for, was only interested in his “band” and “making it” as a bassist, and when he wasn’t playing “music” he would sit and play hours and hours of video games. He also drank his rum and cokes nightly and was latched to his marijuana dabber pen/pipe thing (he couldn’t go an hour without multiple tokes. When he’d bailed on the girls for months while he enjoyed his other family instead of his responsibilities to Riley and Hope my dad set up a visit with him to see them when I was in California for my first rehab stint. After arriving late and not making it on the bus the full distance, causing my dad to have to go retrieve him, he chatted up my dad’s girlfriend about penis piercings and other inappropriate topics. When he was suppose to take the girls to the park, to get him to actually spend some time with them, he all of a sudden couldn’t find his pipe and had to search for and find it before taking it with him to smoke in front of the girls per usual. He neglected his responsibilities and then the one time in my life where I was completely down and out he came in to kick me while I was on the ground.

It should have been enough for all involved parties that Riley was safe and taken care of and that I was going back to drug and alcohol treatment to address this “binge” I’d had but this bitch of a not-involved party thought she’d latch on to the now steadily floating ship and light a gasoline fueled fire on the deck. We’ll meet my mother when the saga continues.

To be continued

 

He said, she said, bullshit that followed
Contradictory my dear: Grayson’s rendition of what he supposedly found at the motel are plentiful and all from his mouth negating each other. I have court documents where he says in one that there was a big bag of drugs on the bed and another where there were individually wrapped small bags and the other written version of events he claims there was only paraphernalia on the dresser.

Unbeknownst to him: There really were no drugs. OH THERE I GO LYING!! There weren’t any drugs in the front room but in the locked back room there was my heroin and meth stash hidden after being enclosed in this weird miniature boxy drawstring bag – this thing was black so I had to search for it in the dark upper corner of the closet knowing where it was. I can honestly say I have always made sure that there was no possibility of my kids getting into any drugs, accidentally or purposefully, and they were never in the same room as any drugs when they were with me (as for with their fathers I am not sure and since Grayson was getting high after he took my girls and while they were in his care as shown by a hair follicle found dirty with cocaine I am pretty positive with how I know he acts when getting high that they were in the same room as his drugs at least once and more so if you count marijuana [dabs mostly at this point in his life] and I don’t but am going to because the courts forbid his use eventually. Although they turned a blind eye to the cocaine which has always boggled my mind and really pissed me off). I’m not excusing my behavior I never should have had any drugs or ever been under the influence around my girls. I know I am in no way some innocent victim.

I knew he’d made up what he claimed to have seen as soon as the first version was available to me because it was my room and my girlfriend Tiffeny was watching the girls while I went to the store to get a fan and socks cause it was too hot to have the girls walk with me so I know there were no drugs in the main room of our motel room. If I had had drugs out there they wouldn’t have been laying out for anyone to see and these drugs were supposedly on the bed and in large quantities but that was where the girls were playing and getting their hair done. Truth be told, by Tiffeny, Grayson didn’t even go into the room but just stuck his head in the room to call the girls to come out. He barely looked up from what Tiffeny said he seemed intimidated by her (him).

Tiffeny is a transgender female (so born male but now female) who is an absolutely gorgeous, black, fit and muscular, woman but it was (haven’t seen her in years now) apparent from her body type and jawline that she had been Michael prior. For sure she could kick Grayson’s ninny ass without effort but him being fearful of her just shows what a pussy he is as she is a sweetheart and at the time he saw her she was braiding Hope’s hair. Grayson made it out to be a negative that I allowed the girls around Tiffeny and tried to bring it up in court as some form of child abuse on my part by exposing my girls to what they knew to be their female babysitter they had stay with them a couple times. It got nowhere that I ever heard about within the courts and Grayson has since apologize for trying to create an issue.

He also said there was no food or drinks and the entire table holding the TV was covered in cereal, snacks, fruit and gatorade (I got like 600$ in foodstamps back then so they weren’t hungry). That claim from him got me neglect in my case with Hope but it was only his word which for whatever reason the courts took as truth even with his inconsistent statements about there being drugs. His daddy paid out nearly $40,000 for an attorney to annihilate me and my reputation and parenting abilities in court. There is a lot not right with the case and how it worked out with the contradictory statements, some very obviously forged UAs, the drugs in his hair, and more in his favor when I had been the only parent for the year prior. That is what his daddy paid for and they won.

Rock bottom

This was my rock bottom and I numbed myself so completely and still felt the pain. I avoided dealing with any of it by continuing to numb myself and eventually I came to accept my situation. So technically I hit the lowest point possible but I was too far gone to experience it for real. There are a lot of moving parts and people working together behind my back to see to it that I would have to do exactly what my mother wanted which included being without my kids for at least a year and a half. And that is just a part of what she did. Family is suppose to help not hurt and I learned the hard way that that wasn’t the case in mine. More on all that to come.

I don’t feel much since then and in the one instance where I did I ran back to numbing myself. I am now back at square one again but my heart’s not in it. Maybe I need to hit rock bottom for real but I don’t think I could survive any more heart-wrenching devastation or loss any time soon and preferably never. So I’ll have to figure out how to get and stay sober without my life getting worse and I think I can be okay with that.

((There is a lot more to come, this is just the beginning of the end of my life as I’d known it. I’ll tell you what, though, I learned who my friends and family really were and that I didn’t really have any of either. Strangers, people new to my life and all of which I’d known less than a month are who kept me safe and on my feet. I’ll continue to share my experiences with all of that and more. I’ll be linking stories to the events timeline (unfinished but I’m working on it) so you can get a look at the happenings I’ll be writing about. I’ll write something for every occurrence listed eventually and the list isn’t done yet.))

Posted in Uncategorized

ready…. set….

My life is a semi-pretty mess right now and in the past 3 years I’ve experienced some of the hardest trials I’ve had to face in life but I will keep surviving if for no other reason than: I am frikkin awesome!!

Through every hardship I knew for sure that I had three people who would love me no matter what and that made everything worth it. The unconditional love for and also from my girls is incredible and unequivocal, and then there is my love for me that only has a couple conditions haha no seriously: 1. be honest with myself always and 2. no self pity. I’m my own best friend which is lucky since I’m my only friend as well. I really believe that society would be a lot more pleasant if we all took our negativity and revamped it into opportunities for self love.

I’m at that point in my life where I fully accept me for who I am and I don’t try to be anything I’m not. I think that my early thirties have been really empowering for my psyche and my self esteem and confidence are well above where they probably should be with my position in life currently. It feels really good though and I want to share my happiness with everyone so they can hopefully experience the self assurance and acceptance with living life on life’s terms like I have found.

One thing that bothers me is when someone tells you all about how great they feel but don’t give any advice on how I could feel that way too. I believe they’re scared their mojo will run out if they go around sharing! Really that is probably a weird hang up I have and am projecting because I used to always want to have things that other people had but without doing the work to get it.

When I first typed that paragraph a few days ago I corrected myself in *PAUSE*

this is what I said: “freestyle thought mode” (isn’t that just adorable)
even better I quickly took off the tip of my tongue: “stream of consciousness” and felt super awesomely nerdy for being proud of the quickness with which it I activated my powers of vocabulary!

I made that a little weird huh? A smidge maybe? At this point you’re starting to question how long this took me to set up to try and be cool?
Yeah I would be too.
I did mention just moments ago that I typed the previous paragraph days ago too. What kind of weird back to the future shenanigans are these?

So go to that single line above the two paragraphs above this sentence and read it. Yeah, definitely, reread that too.
I reread the whole middle part.

but now that I keep coming back to it it seems like a bad after school special. If I lost you that is understandable as I’ve explained nothing and too much at the same time. Up to speed? You’re going to get irritated in a hurry.
I was referring to the previous paragraph and what I did, that I had taught myself to do, and when I did it there, it was not consciously done, so I did it out of habit! I suck at developing habits because that means you have to do something consistently for two weeks straight and

No matter if no one ever reads this I am loving writing around myself! Everyone should try it. You’re right though I still have not explained the paragraph previous to the sentence two paragraphs above that is

What I did was, well now it’s really campy feeling… boo. I

“One thing that bothers me is when someone tells you all about how great they feel but don’t give any advice on how I could feel that way too. I believe they’re scared their mojo will run out if they go around sharing! Really that is probably a weird hang up I have and am projecting because I used to always want to have things that other people had but without doing the work to get it.”

Me (I have a valley-girl voice, Clueless Alicia Silverstone… in my head reading this)

To help me learn to love myself more and keep a more positive outlook in life I started to call myself out on my own bullshit so when I lie, or if I’m copping out due to insecurities, in the moment, when they occur (weirdly grammared [it should be] sentence so I added redundancy). I’ve been doing this brutal honesty thing in my writing and in every day conversations which surprisingly hasn’t gotten weird yet, for me at least, but I’m really socially awkward and I’m always getting puzzling send offs at the end of conversations, even before. Don’t quit now I swear there is a great takeaway that you probably can figure out on your own through life and shit, you’re right, but I’ll still be here typingggg

Somehow that depicts my voice fading as you walk away. The End.

Would I leave ya like that, really?
Turn the page, it needed dramatic flair
and I just learned I can make a new page.

Posted in Uncategorized

spreken druggie

This page is to define drug user terminology and supply you with the different slang names given to the drugs that I have used.  I am not even going to scratch the surface on the plethora of nicknames given to drugs. In all reality we called most shit dope and knew what was being referred to by who you were talking to.

Methamphetamine – dope, crank, crystal, meth, glass, gak, fire, clear, blue, poop, shit, zip, shatter, shards, Christina, Tina, pookie, rocket fuel, no doze, speed, trash, chalk

Getting high on meth – getting scattered, spun, spun out, gakking, tweaking, fried, foiled, geared up

Heroin – dope, smack, H, pure, snow, junk, hero, china white, brown, black, cheese, chocolate, black tar, bird, bonita, tar, white shirt, scag

Mix of Methamphetamine and Heroin – goofball

Mix of Cocaine and Heroin – speedball

Cocaine – coke, blow, bump, rail, nose candy, dust, snow white, white powder, snow bird

Marijuana –  they have stores now filled with a huge diversity of descriptive pet names so I’ll name the basics: pot, weed, grass, green crack, grand daddy purp, doobie, palomita, purple haze, purple OG, Mary Jane, Mary, ad infinitum

Marijuana Concentrates/Hash Oil – bho, bubble hash, budder, butane hash, dabs, ear wax, edibles, crumble

Oxycodone, Oxycontin, Roxicodone – 30s, 40s, blues, buttons, hillbilly heroin, roxy, oxy 80s, oxy, oc, whites, killers

Posted in recovery

day 23 – haphazard woolgathering

“Every hooker I ever speak to tells me that it beats the hell out of waitressing.”

Woody Allen, Deconstructing Harry

see me

Trying out some of these different options. I have been screwing around on my blog all day and really all night too.
I wrote my sKippingbackwarDs page and ended up cutting over half because I liked the top portion for that specified topic but what I cut branched into a new area of the same type of topic… I did copy it over to a draft (I didn’t think to do something so logical I copied it into my Nimbus Notes) well I kept it!
Soon I’ll grace you with my advice, or promotion more so, on loving yourself. My life is pretty shit-mediocre-ish, no matter I enjoy the heck out of it, and I am happy and satisfied in it in big part because I have such a good relationship with myself and honest love and like of me.
This format is driving me bonkers!
Thank you, next.

  1. Aww come on push it.
  2. What’s the worst that could happen?
  3. I would sincerely enjoy comments in response to the above question.
  4. This is how I make a list which I do believe I have tried!! Lame-me lol.
  5. Look now it is new to me it is a numbered list!
  6. Seriously touch it!!
This is rad!Ooooh I see.I’m learning how tables work
I was sure that I’d messed up the whole deal.
Just learned that I can take two linesUgh that is ugly haha middle!!
I should add 2+2=4
I’ve done it now I’ve done it

Thank you for enduring my shenanigans and still continuing to read!!

I have done less than nothing today and thoroughly enjoyed myself.
My only act that made a difference to someone else in the world today was picking up Alex, my boyfriend, from the mechanic where he took his car this morning. In doing so I was also dropping myself off and allowing him to use my car. Better yet, my car needed oil, a bath, and a good vacuuming and trash stop which he, being the amazing guy he is, agreed to doing all of. Also he is absolutely okay with my enjoying dicking off on my laptop all day.
Shoot I should be decent and clean something huh?

This was all a setup and I failed my portion of the exam you never saw me

Will this work better? I guess I won’t be able to tell until I type a bit in this box it seems. It seems interesting that you are interested in what I may have to say on different topics. I appreciate you, every one of the two people who have come by to check me out. I wonder if that had been the case if I’d be sad. I’m doing this as a weird kind of therapy to keep me from making more unnecessary left turns in life. This should be enough.

Posted in recovery

day 14 – can you hear me now

I couldn’t stay asleep last night and just got up around 3:30 and sent emails to my boyfriend about what was on my mind.
Rather than try to have verbal discussions about relationship stuff that often turn into disputes (and in neither am I ever satisfied in feeling heard) I now send, often lofty, emails to my boyfriend. He doesn’t respond via email but in person he acknowledges my points and sometimes offers feedback. While I usually start my emails wanting some sort of resolution of an issue or explanations/answers about whatever has me bothered, by the time I’ve finished articulating what is on my mind my desire for dialogue is quashed. I feel heard (I can’t come up with a different verbiage that adequately expresses the same sentiment).
By choosing to take the time to type out all my thoughts, that I would otherwise be trying to verbalize, explain, and bring about a point to, I get to perfect their delivery. I get to express all of my thoughts, feelings, concerns, perspectives, etc. about any topic, situation, feeling, happening ad nauseam and then edit myself. It is therapeutic to do so and I can decide to not send an email after further consideration whereas nothing said can be unsaid. I wish I had implemented this years ago.
I am fortunate in that Alex, my boyfriend, reads them all and will do so with me there if he hasn’t by the time we are with each other again. Knowing he has “heard” everything I wanted to communicate to him is fulfilling and a refreshing change from wondering and reiterating. I thought I would still need, or at least want, a thorough response about his takeaway and feelings in regards to what he had read but I prefer it this way.
Issues that need discussions and/or solutions we chat about throughout the day to day in regular conversation and without as much pressure as forcing an uncomfortable talk or debate. We haven’t gotten it all ironed out yet but it has lessened stress in our relationship thus far so I’m going to continue.

Right now we have some unnecessary tension from the lack of trust and continued dishonesty from him. He is just choosing that he is not going to be honest about certain situations and refusing to explain why he’s doing so or why he is knowingly continuing to hurt me and our relationship. So our relationship is not anything to take advice from; the emailing has just restored a lot of my sanity and peace of mind and reduced stress, so it is beneficial just not the solution to our problem.

I’m keeping on though.
One day at a time.

Onward.

Posted in liFe on liFe's TerMs, recovery

Day 1 – ready or not.

So grateful for having work to go to today because I would have been struggling to not go pick up and once again postpone the inevitable if I had been sitting around the house. I didn’t want to leave work, really, I was enjoying being productive and keeping myself busy.

I didn’t even crave getting high so much as I was missing it in my break routine. I’ve worked at this place for one week and one day and, yes, I created a routine on my breaks that involved smoking meth at this brand new temporary job that I can’t afford to lose. I have a serious problem. If I had gotten caught that would have cost me utilizing the agency I work through, as well as this job that I find enjoyable, and likely would have involved the police.

The choices I make when using are so oblivious of consequences and just plain idiotic, almost as though I’m trying or wanting to get caught. The choices I make sober to get high are going to kill me. I was ODing myself on meth over the past few days to finish the shit that I bought at the beginning of this week to postpone quitting Monday, so that I could quit by today ((I am incapable of “wasting” drugs by flushing them even when I want to apparently)). I was smoking myself exhausted and thankfully didn’t cause myself to pass out at work.

So I made it through the day portion of Day 1 and my night is uneventful and safe. I’m flat broke, well I have a few bucks I could pry off of my debit card, so that is a potential bad path of picking up a little something if my night doesn’t go according to plan. ((Negative thinking brings about negativity. I need to NOT give myself excuses for and/or PLAN to relapse.))

The issue: My ex is suppose to be dropping off my eldest daughter for the weekend, she’s suppose to be here every weekend, but last weekend he kept her and didn’t tell me ahead of time what was up so I am nervous that tonight could be a repeat. We have a parenting plan through the court but don’t abide by it and have verbally (awaiting him signing the new parenting plan) agreed to my having weekends him having weekdays for her schedule. He is an addict/alcoholic and has been sober almost 2 years and is, rightfully so I know, skeptical of my continued sobriety ((I was doing good for a while and relapsed in October and continued using off and on until today since then)) but also snubs his nose at anyone struggling with using even after being a degenerate and absent from our daughter’s life for nearly ten years. He knows he has all the power right now, though, because I’m behind on the old parenting plan stipulations for my custody to be restored and she’s suppose to live with my grandparents per the court until she’s back with me but they gave her to him so it’s a cluster fuck. He agreed she’d be here when I talked to him last week but is not responding to my text or answering my calls all week. I hate this and I caused all of it by using drugs and making poor decisions for the past few years. Now I am just fucking myself by using and making my situation with seeing my girls even more difficult than it already is dealing with my exes wanting to punish me.
UPDATE: ***Hooray for the ASS! being me in assuming the worst and this ASS! is happily chillin’ with my daughter while she chats with her friends online. More good news: exhubby is willing to look over the plan I sent him and we are on good terms and in agreement to co-parent and work together. So no negativity tonight or any excuse I may have tried to use to go out and make poor decisions.***

Oh yeah that reason why I need to be sober NOW is because I should STILL be sober now. I relapsed in October, it was my third relapse since getting sober in April 2017, and I am just now making it out of the meth clouds to get my head back on straight. I fell off big time and didn’t even see what was happening. I was still quoting how I fell off for a couple months to myself yesterday. Delusional much, I think so. I thought I had this shit on lock and told myself I was just using for a few days here and there, controlled, purposeful, not addicted just getting high every once in a while… Addicts are manipulative little bullshitters, am I right? Well keeping it about me, I am for sure. I’ve been throwing my life away again and have no one to blame for whatever consequences arise besides me damn self! Oh for fucksticks sakes this is just one day, day one of digging myself out of the hole I’ve been digging behind my own back!

I’m 6 months into a year’s worth of outpatient treatment that was put as a stipulation for my visitations with my youngest daughter and I also incorporated it into the plan with my oldest as well to appease the exes need for me to jump through hoops like he had to. I’m in compliance and all my UAs have come back negative for drugs/alcohol. I’ve been faking the funk for months and cannot wait to go give a real clean UA next week, well maybe the week after I don’t want to push my luck and come back dirty because I didn’t wait long enough after using – failed UA means restarting treatment also. In my research I’ve found that it can take anywhere from 2 to 10 days for methamphetamine to leave a person’s system/be undetectable in urine. I’ve tested the theory, at a different facility than where I attend treatment, at $50 per UA – through some trial and error – with the most recent failed UA being after 5 full days of no use. I’ve wasted a lot of money and created evidence of my relapses by hoping for the best and knowing better which is just stupid and another way using is negatively impacting my life.

Insanity: ME doing the same thing, using methamphetamine [drugs], over and over and expecting a different outcome.

I made it.
I’m getting very sleepy and I have now gone 24 hrs without using.

1 day sober