I haven't written in a while, and I feel like I need to. I have talked alot of loss, and that's really it, but I wanted to talk more about me. That sounds selfish, but I wanted to tell a little of my struggles and victories!
When I was 20, I entered Red River, a rehabilitation facility for drug addicts. It was 2 weeks to the day after my father had passed away, and my family had had enough of me screwing up my life. I spent 28 days here, getting better, finding God again, and being scared shitless. All I had known for the last few years before that was drugs, alcohol, and more drugs, oh, and extreme inner hate for myself. I fueled my addiction, hoping I would either die, or at some point just get tired and quit, but neither of those things happened, and I needed help. I stayed sober and clean for 2 1/2 years, no drugs, no alcohol, but plenty of other things to fill the void I was constantly trying to fill. Boys, Red Bull, more inner hate, coffee, cigarettes, you name it, I was ingesting it. I was never really happy with myself, even after rehab. I moved here, there, everywhere. I ended up in Nashville Tennessee when I was 22. I had finally gotten out of Louisiana, something I had longed for since I was a child. My mother would always tell me, "Where ever you go, there you are" Well, duh, I thought, but after several more years, I finally realized what she meant. Where ever you are in this life, you must be happy with YOU, because you can run and run, but you'll always take yourself with you.
Part of me loved Nashville, and part of me was so damn miserable. I was 600+ miles away from my mother, broke, no clue how to pay bills and buy groceries, and no love for me. Well, in April or May of 2006, I finally relapsed. I said fuck it, and I ordered an apple martini. Not long after that I was snorting cocaine again and hating myself even more. I mad a promise to myself that if I touched ecstasy, I would quit all together. Well, that night came and went, and I sure didn't stop getting stoned, drunk, high, whatever I could do that wouldn't kill a small horse. The last night I did cocaine, I was driving home at 9am afer being up all night and morning and thought that a Stanley Steamer van was the cops following me to bust me. Me....what was I thinking? Yes, I had done illegal drugs, but why was I so special to think that the Nashville Metro police digused themselves in a Stanley Steamer van to follow me home??! I wasn't selling drugs, or transporting them. That is just how crazy and insane I was at the time. I thought ridiculous things like that. There was actually a Stanley Steamer van following me, but it only did so until we got to the 4 lane road that lead to my house. Now that I look back, that was pretty funny, and stupid of me to think. Anyway, I got to my little one bedroom apartment and with my little mut dog Bella, sat on the end of my bed and thought, "What the fuck am I doing?" I started crying and just started asking for help. I wasn't really praying to God, I was just asking for help. It felt like a beam of light hit me through the window, and I called a friend and got help, again. Shortly after getting clean and sober again, I met him, Jack. My first impression of this guy was that he was the biggest jerk I had ever met. He didn't even look me in the eye when he shook my hand....little did I know that night, he would become the father of my child, a sperm donor...
I found out September 9th, 2006 that I was pregnant. I remember literally gasping when I saw the result. No way, no way, no way. I was at my friend Joy's house, the same friend that I had called for help that last cocaine enduced episode I had had. I don't even think it took 10 seconds to pop up as a positive result. I was in shock, I started crying and had no idea what I was going to do. I called Jack and went to his place. I remember him being so excited, and all I could think was, there is no way in hell I want to spend the rest of my life with this guy, even though we had talked about getting married, having kids, and spending the rest of our lives together. Well, remember when I said I was always trying to fill a void? Case in point. He was filling a void temporarily for me. He was not what I needed, then, or now, and I knew in the very pit of my stomach, heart and soul that he was not who I was suppose to spend the rest of my life with. I tried to make it work with him, but I just couldn't. I broke it off with him, and moved back home. I left and he didn't know. Yes, I was pregnant with our child and just left, but I was scared of who and what he was becoming. He was so loving and caring, but when I told him I didn't think we were right for each other, he started being so mean and saying the most hateful things to me. I didn't want to be a part of that. I didn't want to see what he was capable of.
I spent the next 9 months with so much worry about what was going to happen. My family didn't think I would be able to take care of a baby, and to be honest, I didn't think I was capable either. The day my son was born changed my entire life. He was the best thing, at that time, that could have happened to me. I finally grew up, well, maybe after a few months of him being here. I was finally happy, for the most part. All I could think was that I was his protector, he was me and I was he. This tiny little being was part of me, regardless of how he got here. I was finally repsonsible for something bigger than myself, and I was ready for the challenge. So, all the time I was pregnant, and for the first 2 or 3 years of my sons life, I was sober and clean. I guess he was 2, almost 3 when I took my first drink again. I just wanted to see if I could handle it, see if anything had changed. You know the definition of insanity right? Doing the same thing, over and over, expecting the same result. I definitely made some mistakes, and it took me getting so drunk one night and having to call a friend, then ending up getting a ride from total strangers home, my mom coming over the next day and giving me a talking to, that I realized I REALLY needed to grow up and be Brayden's mom, and know that the days of going out and partying it up were over. I still go out, well, not right now because of being pregnant, but I do drink from time to time, but I don't let it get out of hand. I know what is important now, and it's not a night of idiocracy.
At this point, I will talk about Justin. I wasn't going to make this whole blog about our relationship, but I want to talk about how strong I know I have been and how much I could have fallen apart, because I have fallen apart when much less has happened to me. Justin was my soul mate. Our souls were so connected that when we held hands or when he looked at me a certain way, there was electricity. I was not ashamed to be who I was around him, and I knew that he loved me for who I was, and not for who I was trying to be. All the other relationships I have had in my life, I was trying to find myself and be someone I was really not. I think by the time I had met Justin, I had found a big piece of me, and he helped me find alot more of it, so I was completely open with him and I had no walls up. I almost broke things off with him after just a few weeks of dating because I was scared. I was scared as hell to fall in love, even though it was what I really wanted. I couldn't wait to have a life, a family, and become old with Justin. God had other plans, and I have to accept those plans and move on. When he passed away, I remember telling my brother Michael that I was really glad I was pregnant, because I would have probably stayed drunk. I can't say that I would have gone down some dark drug induced spiral if I wasn't pregnant. I'm not really sure what I would have done without Jensen, to be honest. Don't get me wrong, I love my son Brayden to death, and would never put him in harms way, but I cannot sit here and say that it wouldn't have crossed my mind to get absolutely trashed after Justin died. I wanted, and still want, all the pain to just go away. I know from all the insane things I have done in my life that nothing can fill a void like the love of your family, and the love of God. Those things have been my rock, and I am so glad that I have them to lean on. Yes, after his death, I have laid in the fetal postion, and cried so hard that I wasn't sure if I was going to be able to breath, but at least it wasn't because I had been on a drug fueled rampage the night before, like I used to do when I was younger. I missed my love. I missed and still miss a part of my heart. He is gone and it will be a very long time until I get to see him again.
Everytime I snorted a line of coke, popped a pill that I wasn't really sure what it was, or took so many shots that I couldn't feel my face, I was hoping to die. I was so afraid of living. I felt like I didn't deserve to. Being a mother, being in love and losing that love, being scared shitless to raise two children on my own, has all made me grow up and not be afraid to live or to die. After I had Brayden, I have obsessed about death every single day since his birth. What was going to happen when I left? Where was I going to go? Who would take care of my baby? So many questions that had no answers, and I literally, for the past 3 1/2 years asked myself those same questions every single day. After Justin died, I was not scared of dying or living. I know that everyone I love will be ok when I leave. I know that if I move foward in my life, that Justin will not be angry with me. I know in the pit of my heart that everything will really be ok. I know in my life today that I don't need to try and find some drug to hallucinate on to make me happy or open my mind. Everything I ever needed to be happy was inside of me all along, and it's taken so much for me to figure that out. I am grateful for everything, good and bad, that has happened to me. It has made me who I am. I have seen people write as their facebook status, etc., "One day your life will flash before your eyes. Will your's be worth watching?" I would have to say, yes, and it can only get better from here.....
