Archive for July, 2011

Writing is interesting.  There are alot of things I hadn’t considered.  I thought that because I had this amazing and dramatic and complicated story, with twists and turns that make even my own head spin, that I could just write and it would be good enough.

It’s not.

It’s not just me that I have to think about here.  What I have done in my life didn’t just affect me.  My bad choices affected everyone who loves me.  My ex’s, my daughters, my mother and step father, the list goes on.  I am reminded of many peole who have tried to help me and I blew it. So many things in my story that it’s not all just about me.  So my quandry as I write is basically, what will they think?

I have great hopes and plans for this book.  I am pouring my heart out onto the keyboard, my fingers flying but not as fast as my memories.  However, I started thinking this afternoon while editing and re writing part of it, that there will be consequences for putting the truth out there like this, not only for me, but for my daughters.

I love my daughters but have little contact with them right now.  My oldest is a beautiful, artistic and amazingly understanding intelligent young woman of 17.  Her birthday is coming up too.  She is online alot and I worry that if I say too much she might suffer somehow.  Does this all make sense?

The choices we make always affect more than just ourselves.  I have alot to offer by sharing my experience with others like me, but I don’t want my truth to affect my daughters, my greatest prayer being that they will never be like me.

As I proofread I am tempted to delete.

I have not.  I don’t think I will.  I will be limiting my exposure on things like facebook, as I want to focus on this project and get it right.  Although I’m not really sure what right is at this point.

Just like everything else, enthusiasm is at a hightened level when something is new. I am feeling like this might be the thing that I was meant for, to offer my misadventures for the greater good.

There is a definite conflict between the goal I am trying to achieve and the path that I’m on, the difference now, is that I care.  I really care.  I care about the fact that I’m not totally sober.  I care that I may be affecting others and I question my every move.  I think often of the chances I’ve been given and the squandered opportunities.  I pray that my motives are sincere and I’m not just fooling myself.

Is this all I have learned?  The only progress I have made from all these years of agony out there….to just give a damn, but not enough for a total transfomation?

It’s a hellava ride out here folks.  I’m hanging on. 🙂



      First of all, I started really writing last night.  It was difficult,  which is no surprise.  What I am discovering is I am really good at details and clarity when describing an event, and I am really good at relaying my emotions when writing to someone I am emotionally involved with, but I am having trouble doing both.

     I an a really emotional person.  Man, not just emotional….I am a basket case.  I have always been this way.  When I was a kid I can remember getting pulled out of the lunch line in elementary school because I was banging my head into the wall.  Why?  I don’t know.  I had been skipped a grade and I didn’t fit in…I got made fun of and I think at that time that was the way I was dealing with it.  Also of course is the chaos in my home.  I will write much more about that.    The daily fighting of my parents and all the late night horror shows I would creep out of my room to witness… probably made me that little weird kid who bangs her head on the wall.  Even then, I knew I didn’t feel right just being me.

     I am still that way.  No I don’t go around banging my head into walls.  But still, I am uncomfortable in my own skin.  I am uneasy around people.  For instance, my neighbor right now is a really sweet girl it seems,  and she has been periodically reaching out to me wanting to chill together.  I always say yes, but I never make an attempt to knock on her door.  I also tend to feel kind of relieved when she doesn’t knock on mine.   I feel like I am not suitable for normal people I guess.  It’s like, I know where I have been, what I have done, and I know that if THEY knew….well, they certainly wouldn’t want to be neighborly anymore.

     The weird thing is, I can work and kiss ass at a job.  I can talk to people and put on a good show.  I just know that what’s inside doesn’t meet what’s outside.  I feel like I keep a truth inside that I can’t let anyone know.  Whatever I do, I can’t seem to maintain it.  I can’t find a persona or a lifestyle that I can sustain.    I keep melting down and changing, not in huge ways but just enough to keep my life inconsistent and painful.  Maybe it’s only apparent to me, there are a few people who have known me for years who don’t seem to pick up on this, but as any addict knows, we have this whole inner life that does not match the outer life.

     So last night I wrote all about one of my arrests.  I was pretty good at describing what happened but it was as if I was seeing it on a T.V. screen and not living it.  I almost could not connect with the feelings I had when it was happening.  I am going back and editing and going to figure out all the messy feelings that came along with it.  I guess that is what writing is about, isn’t it?


     I have to talk about God.  I am lucky enough to be in a bikini, outside of a cute little trailer, laying on a comfy lawn chair in my pretty little garden after all I have done.  That’s a miracle.  You know a lot of people say “I should be dead” but when I say it….it means there is some kind of weird miracle keeping me alive. I have had a gun to my head and been mouthy with the guy holding it, I have been strangled in an alley because I wouldn’t give up the money, countless times I loaded up back to back shots of what would have killed anyone in the hopes it would do just that to me, but I am still here.  Now, i have been down so many paths spiritually, always searching for that one thing that would fix me you know what I mean?  I wanted that epiphany, that spiritual breakthrough that I hear so much about, but it never happened.  Instead, my life has been quietly spared despite how I abused the privilege of being alive.  Not only spared, but oh my God…I am not in prison for life, I am not on a respirator as a vegetable, I have use of all my limbs and functions and I am not diseased or even sick.  THAT IS A MIRACLE!!!  I don’t know why God has spared me…I haven’t figured it out.  That is a huge part of why I am writing.  Maybe if I keep going, keep sorting it all out, some answers may appear, things may become clear.  Or, maybe not.  It’s worth a try.

     There is so much to be in awe of.  Intelligent design…yeah that’s the wave that describes what I am talking about.  I know in my heart there is a God, and that Jesus was here to show us the way, and that He did indeed die for the sins of mankind.  The world and life itself is a miracle ingeniously designed.  This is all no accident, no big boom, no “coincidence” as my friend Chris would say.  The probability of all this just happening is none, less than none.  But I also know there is so much more to it all than we will ever understand or are ever meant to.  Our meager little brains that we barely tap into are not capable of conceiving the whole truth of existence.  Only God is…whatever and wherever He is, I am in awe.

     Here again is a stumbling block for me.  I am sure many of you can relate.  Here comes the word again…inconstant.  inconsistent.  I fluctuate, not in my belief but in how I believe and how I rely upon God.    Just like everything else, I can’t keep it together.  There are times when I pray and meditate and think on God all day long, praying constantly.  Other days, sometimes weeks, it’s as if I forget in a way.  I just kind of get caught up in my drama and I hang on to it instead of releasing it and reaching up to Him.  I studied Buddhism for a while and lived in a wonderful Zen center in Gainesvile.  KC Walpole took me in straight out of prison to study and grow there.  I even managed to get a scholarship which I managed to completely turn away from, fleeing in fear of the commitment and my inability to follow through with things.  There, I learned so much however, and although they do not focus on the teachings of Christ and the sacrifice He made, they do accept them as part of a universal truth. I believe that universal truth includes it all, and that Christ embodied it all, but sometimes I wonder if there really is only one right way.  I don’t know the answer.  All I can do is follow my heart.

     Today I am aware and so very grateful that God has spared me the punishment I deserve for the things I have done.  I am also aware that I have created karma here on earth and in my life, the evidence of which is in everything I do everyday.  Yes I have been spared, but there is still a debt owed and that is where all this writing comes in.


Wow…I am doing what I always do, which is jump into things not knowing what the hell I am doing!  This is all new to me, but I have always wanted to write a book.  Somehow I thought blogging was going to prepare me or tie in somehow with that purpose.   I really didn’t know what I was getting into.  I am truly not ready to have just anyone read this shit.  It’s amazing how intimidating the truth can be, and also just as amazing how completely I can change my mind from wanting to just put the whole truth out there for everyone to see, to wanting to just delete the whole damn thing.

     Maybe I am just seeking attention?  Maybe.  But isn’t that what all artists are doing in some sense?  I mean who creates without the intention of some type of audience, no matter how small or selective.   All the stuff I have been through needs to be told, because it is extraordinary to have lived through it, and still be in the shape I am in.  I mean as I said I still have my problems and I am not on top of things relatively speaking (by society’s standards)but I am not damaged beyond repair and THAT is a miracle.

     So WHAT’S THE POINT?  I’m not sure.  I’m gonna keep writing though.  I’m gonna write and write untill it’s done.  Not here though.  Here…I’m gonna write about the writing and about every day shit I go through while it’s happening.

  I’m a train wreck at various points every day almost, and my wonderful man is also segmented and strange in his very unpredictable ways…our relationship is, well, unconventional even by alternative lifestyle’s standards.

    One thing about me that I particularly dislike and wish I could change (among other things of course) is the fact that I am inconstant.  Inconstant is a word I heard in Bram Stoker’s Dracula…the one with Keanu Reeves.  Mina is writing to someone about being unsure of her love for her fiance’ due to her sudden infatuation with Vlad.  For some reason it has always stuck with me, that I am an inconstant woman.  I go into something whole heartedly and with the best of intentions but cannot be relied upon to follow through.  Consequently I have squandered away MANY awesome opportunities that would have altered the course of my life if I had followed through with things but I never have been able to.  I hope, I pray, this will be different.  Something has to be.  SOMETHING has to be different soon, because I don’t want it all to be wasted.

I am an addict.  I should tell you this because this fact pretty much affects my whole life.  Everything I do and everything that is happening in my life right now is directly affected or a direct effect of this fact.  I used to be a lot worse than I am now though.  Needles, prostitution, homelessness, things that most people wouldn’t even dream of were my everyday realities, but they no longer are a part of my life at this point.  That is not to say I couldn’t go back there again because everyday is full of choices and opportunities that could land me right back there in an instant.  Now, I am maintaining I guess you could say.  You see, my biggest problem has always been opiates.  Everything from heroin on the streets to going to several doctors for pain pills.  Now however, I see only one doctor and I am on a medication called suboxone.  It has some opiate qualities but you don’t feel any effect,  and it keeps my body and mind satisfied, meanwhile it blocks the receptors that tell your brain you are high, so you never get any kind of euphoria.   It also blocks the effects of any other opiates so it is like spinning your wheels to do any other pills.   It keeps me clean.  The mediation has changed my life, and aside from God’s mercy, I wouldn’t be writing this today if it wasn’t for the medicine.  So, what I have to offer is not presented from a point victory over addiction, but rather from a place of awareness and daily struggle, and an effort to be honest and real about it.  I have talked at length with my doctor about getting off of the medication, but due to the fact that I have been exposed to opiates before birth, he doesn’t reccomend me trying to get off of it.  He likens my problem to diabetes, you just have to take your medicine to stay alive.

So I really don’t know where to start.  There is so much to tell.  I haven’t straightened my life out by any means and maybe because of that fact some would argue this writing is a waste of time because I have absolutely nothing to offer.  I am part of the problem, not the solution,.   But, I don’t agree.  I know when I was battling with addiction and getting clean at times, and also when I was locked up I loved to read about others who share in my darkest experiences.  It’s morbid maybe but it’s true.  Misery loves company.  Equally I can say one man’s misery is another man’s extacy.  I have a whole lot to say about both.

I screwed up!

Indeed..yesterday I typed and typed my first blog…It was composed rather well and I didn’t save it or post it correctly!  So here I am.

   I get it now…I see what I did wrong.  Okay folks…if anyone is bothering to read this….here I am.  I think this is gonna get pretty real.  I am a 41 year old woman who has managed to thouroughly screw up her life in oh so many ways.  The places I have been and the things I have done are gnarly and severly disturbing….even to me and I was there.  So here I am gonna complain..whine…post my troubles and try to sort out the mess that is my life…because I KNOW that all I have been though will help someone if only they can read and see they are not alone.  I dont know where to start though on the book I figured I will blog and practice writing about my life in the hopes it will evolve into something greater.

     Right now?  I live in a trailer.  I love this place really.  We are pretty close to the beach and I have a little garden outside.  I live with my boyfriend John.  We love each other.  We met under really messed up circumstances…I was on the street and he picked me up.  I am an addict.  I was born addicted because my mother was using while pregnant and I have been using all my life…so as an addict I have endede up on the street over and over again…anyway yeah he picked me up and says he has loved me ever since.

     So here I am and to tell you the truth no I am not happy..I an taken care of but there are deep, deep problems.  For instance the man I lie with who says he loves me won’t even give me a key to our trailer.  That pisses me off.  I know you are probably saying the same thing I waould say to anyone who would tell me the same story…LEAVE HIM> But  do love him and I don’t have anywhere to go.

     So I am gonna keep going on about the crap in my life.  You wanna read?  IT WILL GET REALLY INTERESTING…I PROMISE