You ever get that feeling when things are going surprisingly well, but you know something bad will happen. Sometimes I get it just because I’m so used to bad things happening. Last night, as I was preparing to soak in the tub with my strawberry bath bomb. An aweful feeling came over me that something bad was going to happen.
About thirty minutes later my grandma needed to go to the emergency room for chest pains. Now, my grandma reminds me of the grandma off of “Beverly Hillbillies”. That is no exaggeration. She once took her pistol and shot thru a car who was turning around in her driveway on their farm. I told you, no exaggeration. My grandpa ended covering for her that night but they took her pistol away.
They wanted to keep her over night, but my grandpa wasn’t with her so she wouldn’t stay. My plans are to sit with her today while my grandpa is at work. They wanted to run a bunch of tests. She refused because her son and not her husband of sixty years was there.
Murphy’s law states that things happen in three’s. My mother is having surgery today and has to remain in the hospital two days after the surgery. Now, I’m feeling like an asshole. Once she is released, no one will be there to help her or take care of her. She had asked me if I could, but I started a new part time job yesterday. She asked me the day after the job was offered. Part of me wants to continue to be mad at her for Christmas. Part of me says, “Let it go, that’s your mom”.
I’m patiently waiting for number three. It never fails. As soon as things smooth out in my life, the devil pops his head out. I take these moments to learn from, and to grow from. I just come out of a long year and a half depressive state. I won’t go back. Today, I am praying my little heart out until I just can’t pray any longer. If everyone else could say a little prayer, that would be awesome as well.
I have to stop letting things get me to the point of cutting someone off completely. The older I get, the more I want to surrond myself with my family. I didn’t have them growing up, so it’s nice to get to know them and make memories now. The past is the past and nothing anyone ever did can be redone. I’ve got to learn to except it, before it’s too late.
I think this maybe more of a rant tonight then a blog. My neighbor called the landlord and complained that there was a black man and black kids at my house. It was my boyfriend and his two daughters. We all know relationships are extremely hard. Add in health problems and finances, you’re pretty lucky if you can make it.
What I can’t stand is someone looking at a white woman in disgust because she is with a person of a different race. What these people don’t see is the fifty hours he works a week because I don’t work due to my health. What they don’t see is him getting his kids half the week, carrying insurance on them, and paying his child support. They don’t see him staying up all night with me because I am having an episode and am completely paralyzed and unable to speak. He then sits at the emergency room with me. Proceeds to work with no sleep. He bathes me when I can’t do it myself. He helps me on and off the toilet because I have no strength. He isn’t even thirty yet and already knows what the future holds for us.
I feel like a broken record. Everytime some ignorant person has something to say about an interracial couple. I literally feely blood boil. Half the time, he drives me nuts. Some days I want to leave him. Others, my heart overfills with love because NO MAN ON THIS EARTH would do the stuff he does for me. Quit looking at looks or color. Get to know a person. Start a conversation with someone of another race and you may actually learn something. If you’re going to be a racist. don’t hide it. If you had an issue, you could have just as easily walked over and introduced yourself.
So, to the neighbor who is worried about the interracial family living in your neighborhood. I assure you, We come in peace. Please just let us live, happily. Without judgement, and we will do the same.
When it comes to finances, I’ve never been the frugal one. Oh, how times have changed. Just because I am no longer using drugs I still have addictive behaviors. It’s something that I am working very hard at. From excessive cleaning, working out, scratch offs, and impulse buying. I’ve had my share of issues with money. After a hard financial year my outlook on money is completely different.
I took economics in high school but that’s as much training as I’ve had on how to manage finances. The only thing my mom ever taught me was, “Always make sure your rent is paid no matter what”. I’ve tried to live by that but wasn’t always successful. Day by day my self control is getting stronger. Maybe it’s anxiety of losing everything all over because I don’t have a steady job. Maybe I’m just growing up.
It’s always good to have a safety net. No matter if you’re married, single, or just living with someone. I always have something in my bank account for emergencies. It comes from never having financial stability or any stability for that matter. It also comes from years of a man telling me, “You wouldn’t have this if it wasn’t for me”! Please let me clarify that the past men in my life were junkies and had nothing. Their families did.
My boyfriend now makes good money and we actually have a chance right now to save and still live comfortable. We were talking last night, and I know he doesn’t have an issue with me working. He doesn’t like that I am so adamant about going back either. It’s literally twelve hours a week. Now I still have two online businesses I run, but I’m able to work my own hours around them. I’m not planning on moving away with this “Twelve hour a week job”. I just want security.
I think besides my daughter, not having something in my wallet and/or bank account are my bggest anxiety triggers. I will overthink, I will lash out at stupid purchases not made by myself. I just hate the feeling. Growing up, I was poor. I’m talking, “canned corn and Limas for an afternoon snack poor”. Could you imagine going to school in third grade and no one could come over because you lived in a homeless shelter? Could you imagine as soon as you do get settled into a new school you’re moving because your mother is raising three children on her own and can’t afford to pay rent?
I dream of stability. I long for stability. Having it for a very short period of time; then having it ripped from you in a matter of moments is soul crushing. I never want to have to wonder where I will lay my head at night. Most people work to support their families, buy nice things, and vacation. I work to survive. I work so that my daughter can see nothing is handed to you, even if your grandparents are rich. Sooner than later the money disappears, and what are you left with? If only I knew then what I know now. I’d have stability.
If I got blessed with anything, I was blessed with street smarts and I’m book smart. See, when you are in active addiction you will do just about anything to get your fix. It’s called survival mode. When I used I wasn’t able to maintain a steady job because I had to be high to go to work. Most of the time I was sick so working wasn’t an option at that time. I was born a hustler.
Now sometimes that can be a good thing. Since I’ve been sick, my survival skills kicked in. Please don’t think that I am out selling drugs or my body to survive. This is where my book smarts have come into play and have taken over. Last night I received message from my daughter explaining that her dad is mean. To her surprise, I already knew this. After all we were together for 12 years.
After I got the message I called right away to see what was going on. We never did get to that conversation because she had enlightened me on what the rest of the family had talked about.
“If you move back with your mother, you will end up being her caregiver because of her illness” and “If you move there you won’t have as much help financially as you would here with us”. Let me remind you that she is seventeen and considering where she will be going to college. Her choices are here in Louisville or Pittsburgh.
I have tons of siblings, I am the ONLY one who does not ask for help or a handout. My sibling ages range from nineteen to fourty-two. When I stopped working last year I had to figure out a way to make money the legit way. I decided to resell items online and I clean two house. Luckily, I have a supportive boyfriend who pays all of our bills and completely takes care of me if I have a MS relapse.
Never in my wildest dreams would I dare to ask my child to take care of me. My boyfriend and I have made it very clear if she comes here, goes to school, does well, and gets good grades she can live with us for FREE. All she would need a job for is to pay for her car and the difference in car insurance. I want to give her the opportunity to focus on her education and not to have to worry about surviving. I also want her to learn that nothing is handed to you so some responsibility is neseccary I believe.
If she stays there, they will pay for EVERYTHING, But only if she stays close. Now, to the part where the doctor forgot to put that silver spoon in my mouth when I was born. You know some babies get them I just wasn’t one of them. My grandparents were farmers, my dad worked construction and landscaping, my mother hunted for rich men, and I don’t know the other set of grandparents. Each and everyone of them taught me tools I needed in life to face this cruel world.
Thank you! Each and every person who made me work and fight for what I want in life. If I had a rich family I’d either be still using or doing drugs. I’ve bought all my car’s myself. I’ve always paid my own housing. I am trying to give my daughter the same tools because I’m sure her father has spent his, hers, and all their cousins inheritance. His grandparents bought their daughter’s house, my ex’s house, all of their vehicles, and no payments have been made in over a year.
I get it, they have money and they want their family to be secure. Do not bring me into this because I don’t have money. I don’t care if I have to roll a wheelchair around to scrub toilets. I would do whatever to make sure she gets the education she wants and deserves. To threaten her if she moves that finances will be either cut off or lessened is just plain selfish, mean, and fucking rude.
My words to her are this,
You go to school where you want to go. You live your life the way you want to live your life. Never let a person use anything over you to detour you from your own happiness. Travel the world, experience new things, and damn it stop letting a person’s money control your happiness!
I’m truly heartbroken over the comments that were made. Yes, there have been changes in my health. It took a little time to get things under control but I’m doing my damn thing. I don’t have to leave my house and am still making a hundred dollars a day just with my online businesses. I’m happy, and if my family is helping right now. It’s because they want to not because I asked.
It’s one of those mornings. You know, when you awaken at four a.m. and you have a million and one thoughts in your head. Good thoughts, bad thoughts, overthinking situations. I am going over and over in my head about how well things seem to be going. I am also waiting for the explosive bomb to go off to shift all things that are aligned right now.
Since my move, events in my life have seemed to fall into place. It’s a good thing, right? I got a part time position as a personal assistant and I am extremely excited about this. I have been wanting to go back to work for months. The lady I work for understands that I do have MS and is willing to work around this. I applied for a home loan yesterday. Whether I get it or not, I’m remaining positive. If it’s meant to be, it will happen! I have about four jobs going right now between my online businesses and other side jobs and I am starting to get overwhelmed a little so I may need to cut back a few things.
I’ve taken a step back from most friends and family that weren’t bringing what I was bringing to the table. I am so okay with this. I’ve always been very forgiving of the one’s closest to me who hurt me. I’ve decided a little selfishness for my well being is okay. I have grown extremely close with my dad and I am enjoying every second of it! We talk. Not just hi and bye, but actual conversations about my childhood, my family I was too young to remember, and how he is supportive 100%.
When I got my diagnoses of Multiple Sclerosis and Lupus, I’m not going to lie. Contemplating a way out crossed my mind a number of times. Yes, I hate the days that I am ready for bed at 3 p.m. I hate the muscle cramps/spasms. I really hate the headaches that make me nautious. Most of all, I hate the thought that it is a possibility someone will have to take care of me. Oh yeah, and the Prednisone! I am not lying when I say it taste like I was chewing on a pile of crap.
There is a reason for everything. I wasn’t a kind person. I wasn’t a good person. This has humbled me in so many ways. It’s made me appreciate the little things. Having dinner with my dad and boyfriend and ginuinely laughing. Getting closer with family I hadn’t seen in twenty years. Doing good deeds for people who are in the same position I was in just a couple of months ago. It’s changed my heart for the better.
My daughter was really frustrated with me when I didn’t move back up north. I understood, but at the same time she will be 18 in a few months. She will be heading off to college. I would’ve just stayed in a place I hate. We have one month until my heart overloads with joy and happiness because she graduates. I am going up next month for the graduation. My biggest concern, her father, his wife, and I have never been around each other at the same time. This is her moment. After all, she has worked her butt off for this and we owe it to her to make this about her and her only.
Hating myself and the disease isn’t going to make the disease disappear. I’m still managing everything completely sober. No matter how bad the pain gets, I’m sucking it up! No need to add fuel to a fire I just got contained. You never really know how your life can change in a matter of an eye exam. Oh, four a.m. thoughts. How I dislike you very much so.
Wow, where do I begin?? The last few months have been pretty horrible for me. From my health to relationships to finances. Let me start off by saying, I have to write! I am not a person who can express feelings thru conversation. After my diagnoses, I literally checked out mentally. The first 22 days of January I didn’t leave my house and I cried everyday. Mentally, I am managing much better now.
I started my MS treatments and although they suck, it’s what’s best. I’ve picked up a few part time jobs and they are going well. Over Easter I had a bad MS relapse and it is now starting to effect both sides of my body, my swallowing, and my speech. I am honestly making the best of the situation. I’ve changed my diet, I started exercising, and I am keeping myself somewhat busy.
I recently also bought myself a new car which was a major accomplishment for me because I had gone three months with no seizures! As of right now my life is content. My financial stress has been lessened. Fingers crossed, I go to the bank tomorrow to apply for a loan to purchase my home! Lately, I am thankful the Lord is dropping blessing upon blessing in my lap.
I started speaking with my mother again. Not as much as I used to, but I’m working on building a better relationship with her after what happened this past Christmas. I am headed back up north next month for my daughter’s high school graduation. Words can not express how proud I am that she made it after everything she had been subjected to. Well, I think that’s all the updates for now! Hope everyone continues to read as I will be writing more!
Something about my two week stay in Pennsylvania/Maryland did something to me. I’m not sure if it was good or bad. I had all intentions with starting this new year with a new attitude. Yet, I sit here doing the same thing as I was doing before I went home to visit for the holidays. If I realised anything, it was that not all people including family are there for you. Some don’t even know what they are doing to the people around them. I’ve realised I can count on myself and myself only. I’ve realised I’ve come home to sit by myself and cry just like I did every other day.
See, crying is a weakness to me and no one knows how weak I really am. I don’t allow people to see emotion from me. They take that weakness and they use it to thier advantage. I recently had to put distance between my mother and I. It hurts but the negativity adds to the bullshit I already deal with on a daily basis. I took the greyhound bus home. I waited until the lights were turned off and I think the only person who knew I was hurting was the girl next to me and God. I was stuck in Columbus, OH for twelve hours and I sat in the bathroom stull crying.
I had to leave the one person who I gave life to. I had to leave the one person who gives me life. I’m not sure what it is but knowing I’m so far away from my daughter completely tears my insides apart. I have completely lost my way and have no idea how to get back onto a road I know. When I say that trip did something to me, I mean that it took something from me. It took what little bit of hope and happiness I had left.
I’m not sure how to describe this empty feeling. I only have it when I’m away from my daughter. It’s like I’m searching for a place that no longer exists. A place where I only think happy thoughts. Where I laugh. I don’t know that place anymore. No matter how hard I try to find it.
I’m convinced my mother hates me. I was given the opportunity to come home for the holidays. I’ve spent time with my daughter who made it an incredible experience and then I’ve spent time with my mother and my brother who made it impossible to enjoy the holiday. No one understands a drug habit and toxic relationship more than I do. I should be thankful for spending time with my family when most don’t even get that chance. My brother was high as hell the moment I arrived. Asking if I wanted anything. Then he proceeds to treat the very girl he got sent to jail for beating, like a dog. My mother blaming all this on me just because of my presence.
I quickly removed myself from the situation, but my mother followed because of the way my brother treated her as well. I decided to stay at my sister’s house where peace can somewhat be obtained. I should’ve stayed in Louisville and just had my daughter visit. I was so hell bent on moving back up north but I think I needed this experience to show me God has me where he wants me.
I’ve been here since the 14th of December and I am so ready to go back home and be with the man that had me questioning our relationship. I can not control any of the situations around me. I can only control how I react to them. I’ve kept my mouth shut and have taken the abuse. My brother and sister have been working since I’ve arrived. Therefor, I’m on “mom duty”. My mother is a 62 year old schizophrenic who literally looks at me with disgust. Out of respect, I’ve helped do what I could to make her stay comfortable, but there’s a fine line between disrespect and abuse.
I hadn’t seen her in five years and have spent two weeks with her and have yet to give her a hug. It’s hard to let the past go when she constantly reminds you of it. I’m not the same person I was 15 years ago. She is. I’ve thought about using quite a few times on this trip, but honestly I know it will not solve anything. I’ve spent as much time with my daughter and niece as possible. I always thought it was the world that was so cruel to my mother and now that I am older and sober I see that my mother creates her own issues. Issues that don’t even need to be issues. If I was honest with her and told her how I felt, I would just be a “demonic spirit”. I will keep the peace. My sister has been my rock. Explaining to my mother that how she has been treating me is wrong. She doesn’t understand it though.
On another note, I received a phone call from my neurologist that I am being diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. I had a lumbar puncture done on December 7th. She decided to call while I was on vacation spending Christmas with my family. They are wanting to start me on treatments, so that will be started once I’m home and can think straight to make the best desicion. Christmas of 2017 has been a hell of a ride and has given me a whole new look on people in my life. The toxic ones I need to let go of and the good ones I need to hold on to! I hope everyone has had a Merry Christmas!
The holidays are supposed to be filled with family, friends, joy, love, and laughter. That’s the the norm. If you are familiar with my story, you know I don’t get the norm. I’ve never known “normal”. Due to my long history of drug use, I’ve missed so many holidays with my family. If I was there I was entirely way too high to enjoy the festivities.
Last year my sister planned a trip to South Carolina to surprise my mom. I wasn’t included only because I live in another state. This year my daughter was supposed to fly down but after a long list of lies and bullshit her plane ticket wasn’t booked. This year for Christmas, my family planned a “secret” trip to get my mother up north so everyone could spend Christmas together. I wasn’t included only because, “I live in another state”. Since I’m not working I can’t afford to get up there.
I’m hurt more than anything. I don’t allow my sadness to remain sadness. I have always instantly turned it into anger. My sister has decided to buy an entire family Christmas gifts which I think is great. It still hurts. My brother was recently bailed out of jail. All this money floating around. Bail money, Christmas presents for a family, driving from Pennsylvania to South Carolina to pick up my mother, and not one person can swing a bus ticket so that I’m able to be included in this. Did I mention they planned a family trip to Hershey Park and my niece is bringing two friends?
I get it, I’m old enough to be able to swing my own bus ticket. We have three girls to buy Christmas for. My boyfriend and I come from parents who are focused on their own lives. We both moved out of our houses by the age of sixteen and it wasn’t by choice. It is him and I against the world. No one sees an issue with any of this. They all have the same thought they had twenty years ago. “She can handle it. She’s strong enough to be alone. She never lets anyone close enough to have a relationship with her”. They still just don’t fuckin get it.
I’ve had to train myself not to feel anything since the age of five. My sister has always had her real father. My little brother has always been given everything by my mother and my father. Here I sit. I cried myself to sleep last night and I woke up crying. Every single memory of me getting left out has come back to me and is weighing heavily on my heart.
It never bothered me as much when I was married because I had my ex husband’s family. It didn’t bother me after my divorce because I had my daughter. It kills me now because who I spend the holidays with aren’t “my people”. This is the reason I have a cold heart. This is why I don’t get close to people. What was the point of keeping this a secret? I would have found out eventually. I recently asked my father if my boyfriend and I could move in with him so we could save money. He tried doing what he does best and pawning me off on my grandmother.
I can’t blame any of them for my drug use. That’s on me. However, I can place blame on them for not putting in their half of the effort to mend a relationship with myself. I’m really hurt by all of this. After years of let downs and disappointments, am I supposed to move on? Cut them out of my life? I’m a little fucked up by all of it.
One thing I’ve realised in my journey in recovery is that no one person is the same on drugs as they are off drugs. I watched a person with everything lose it in a heartbeat. They’ve allowed themselves to get to that point of no return. It’s that point where they are about to hit rock bottom but shit hasn’t hit the fan yet.
I was at my rock bottom for a long minute. I thought when I had broken my ankle and became homeless that that would be it. Ha… nope! That was only the beginning of my lengthy rock bottom. It started with my first rehab stay. I had almost made it. I had about a week to go and I just up and left. I made my way back to my hometown and started my self destruction all over again.
About a month later I made my second attempt at rehab. I was only staying to detox. This rehab stay was a little different. My first rehab my sister and dad were very supportive. Making sure I had cigarettes and everything else I needed. My second stay I was on my own. No money, no cigarettes. Just me, three hours away from home in the middle of the woods. I had no where to runaway to this time. This all happened in September and October of 2013. I spent seven days in the rehab facility and came hone and got high that day. I had decided to do a detox with methadone. I would have rather done it cold turkey because I had already gone 3 days before I got my first dose.
I had nothing except a couple laundry baskets of clothes that I carried around from house to house or to the crappy motel I stayed in when I couldn’t find a place to lay my head. Fastforward to Spring, I was still using. After two rehab and a couple of overdoses, I was still using and had no thoughts of getting clean. The thought of withdrawal after a lengthy time of using was not something I wanted to go thru.
A couple days before I had made my big move to get clean, the person I was dating got arrested. I was screwed. I depended on him to get high everyday. I depended on him to find a place to stay every night. My family had completely cut me off at this time unless I was seeking help and I was serious this time. I had called my dad to get a bus ticket. I was still fighting the thought of moving but I knew I had no choice. I was killing myself and everyone could see it except me. My sister had personally come to pick me up that day to drive me to the bus station. I was so mad because I had sent someone to get dope so I could get high before I left. He didn’t get back in time so my withdrawal started on a bus headed to Kentucky. There was probably a reason I didn’t use that day.
My behavior while I was getting high is not my behavior sober. At one point I surrounded my whole life around only getting high. My rock bottom lasted for months before I understood what I was doing to myself and my loved ones. I’m thankful for the period in my life when my loved ones completely cut me off. They gave me no money, no free place to stay. Half the time they didn’t even answer the phone because they knew all I wanted was money. If my family or friends would have given in to my bullshit, I’d be dead. It took me being stranded in the middle of the night, not having any place to go to realise that what I was doing was total fuckery.
Everyone’s rock bottom is different. Some just wake up and think to themselves, “I can’t do this anymore”. Some go to jail and have no choice but to get clean. Some lose their lives. I’m thankful for that rock bottom. I’m thankful that I came to the conclusion when I did because I have so much to live for.