EXTRA! EXTRA! READ ALL ABOUT IT!

This story is brought to you by my son and his continuous snooping. Having jarred memories in doing so. Sitting in my parents living room after my father arrived home from the hospital chatting with them and their preacher who came by to wish him well. I was on the computer and we were all laughing and going over the events of the previous weekend half out of our minds from exhaustion.

Keaton, my son is digging through my parents china cabinet looking for everything and nothing at the same time. Just exploring. My mom and dads house has been theirs for the past 30 years and as you can imagine there is probably 30 years worth of stuff in those cabinets. All of a sudden I hear," Grandy! I found an old paper, it is from 1993." My ears perked up real quick and I said. " I don't think Keaton needs to be reading the Banner Press from 1993." Poor Keaton was so interested in it as I snatched it out of his hands before he could see what I would never want him to. I may cross that bridge one day but not at that moment. He is 11 and would tell whoever he came in contact with.

And here's why....

After coming back from Austin to live at home with my parents. I did find a job doing hair in a little shop. I was sooo incompetent. This was not for me and I knew it. Staring at the clientele as they left the building scrutinizing over every hair. Never feeling like the haircut was right. Torcherous,but I had a job.

Leaving behind my friends in Austin wasn't easy. Leaving that lifestyle behind was even worse in my eyes. Back in this lazy town with absolutely no night life, period. There were still the people here that we had left behind. Long story short I tried to make the best with what I had to continue on the road I was on. Parties and hanging out at other stoners houses was a nightly thing for me.

These are the times that become so confusing for me.The timeline. In my mind I think I know in what chronocological order they belong but then I know there was no way. All I know is that these things happened and that's that. If I had to put a time on it I think this day happened before I moved to Austin. OK,sorry it drives me nuts.

Twas a rainy day and as usual I was in bed until at least noon, it may have been 2. I remember waking up and looking under the blinds to the world outside. The sun was bursting through the rain clouds. Immediately excited, knowing I had a short window of time to accomplish what needed to be done. Springing out of bed and grabbing the phone as every criminal needs an accompliss. The unlucky girl would be Doris. She was a 6 foot tall, 350 pound, 18 year old , freckle faced girl, who most people mistook for a man. Well, she dressed like one, again with the combat boots and army fatigues, she had the presence of a giant. She was strange and different and I loved it. We were pals and she was on board with the days plans. 30 minutes later I was picking her up and we were off to 3 bridges where the cows were fed the exact right type of grain to produce the lovliest mushrooms after a rain. Armed with our hefty sacks we entered the pasture and began picking. Mushrooms were every where. Our eyes were bigger than the time we had allowed to us, as we were tresspassing. By this time, I remember it being close or after 5 and the traffic of people going home from work. We loaded our booty and headed for her apartment.

We were being followed and I knew it was over. The sherriff was coming to get me, as we reached the apartment there were by this time several cop cars arriving with us and we were caught. Taken to the police department, questioned and released. That was it? We were not arrested. Just comfiscated the mushrooms and let go. Whew! That was close.

Moving forward a year, I was back from Austin ,working and I guess trying a little bit to do the right thing. Although I was still on drugs. Chatter was going around town that there was going to be this big drug bust. A round up of sorts. Thoughts of that day so long ago came flooding back. Could I be a part of that? I remember sitting at work one day talking to my fellow hairstylist and telling her about it and that maybe I would be involved in it. I was right.

Two or three days later while I was at work, in came the police and notified me that I was under arrest and needed to come with them. As we walked out of the door of the salon it was quite a show. Several cruisers were there to get ME. Like I was going to run or something. Along with the newspapers photographer. This couldn't be good.

Booked at the station and put in a holding cell. Sitting there with the few other women that were arrested in the same sting. It seems I was the story that day, because, as they were letting me out to speak with my lawyer, somehow TV cameras from the show City Under Seige were let in the back to approach me and question me about what I did to get here. Shocked and pissed about it because I could see the police in the background smiling about their accomplishments. I was none too pleased. I made a smart remark and my lawyer jumped in front of the camera. Bail was posted and I went home to the shame and embarrassment of facing my parents.

Next day...I was in the paper. Not the Brenham Beat people which a little exerpt in the paper listing 911 calls and arrests. I was on the front page of the paper. My picture the one they took as the police walked me out of my work. Headline news. I couldn't believe it and personally I was enraged. I was made an example. They held on to my case for a year so they could do this. I still think it was shady. Besides the paper I was also on the evening broadcast of City Under Seige which was kinda like Cops but it was based in Houston. I am from Houston and so are all my Aunts and Uncles. Needless to say the phone was ringing at our house.

My second arrest. Remember? I got caught shoplifting earlier in life. The court was not too pleased with me and my behavior. 5 years probation (ejudicated) 250 hours community service. Hefty fines which my parents paid and I never knew the amount and at the time was so screwed up didn't even ask. Enabled? Little bit.

This was meant to be a wake up call. Turn it all around and go on the path of the straight and narrow. Yeah right. By all accounts it did nothing but make me mad and hate where I was even more. It was on, and I was rebelling against any and all authority.

To be continued....

ME...ON A RUNAWAY TRAIN TO NOWHERE

It takes a few days for me to go over my thoughts about what I have written and where I would like to go from here. How does this make me a better person? What did I learn and take from the experience? I am here to learn about me and figure it all out. So far I see that from the beginning I was a frail person that wore her feelings on her sleeve. Having learned how to cover those pains became tiring and I obviously needed more to hide from the feelings I didn't know how to feel.

That led me on the path to using drugs. Once on that road I completely lost track of myself. I no longer had that...that thing that others have...that...for lack of a better word... inner voice telling me that it is wrong. I couldn't stop. The train had left the station,destination unknown. What started as a party train full of fun times and many people, slowly but surely one by one people got of at there stops for various reasons I wasn't concerned about. The only people boarding this train to nowhere were stowaways. Refusing to get off I found myself alone in the end, long way from home and not knowing how to get back. Help was offered to me all the way. Hands put out for comfort along the way. Using those times to recover just long enough to get back out there, left the friends I did have feeling used and....well... done.

Irresponsible comes to mind when I look at this. Did I ever take responsibility for my irresponsibility? Absolutely not! Was I capable of doing so at the time? Yes! Maybe just maybe this is what left me living life in denial and moving over to food instead of drugs. I never finished what I started. Replaced it is all I did. Again. I am getting too far ahead of myself right now. So much more to write about before I even get close to removing myself from a life on drugs.

Time line from where I left off is pretty much getting close to the end. About one year left of full swing drug use. Escalated risks. Hard to believe so much could be packed in one year. My train was moving fast and was about to derail. Trouble was on the horizon and there was no way for me to avoid it.

Did I ever consider that I needed help? No. Help? Was there help for what I was doing? How could I have? Half the time I had no idea how to deal with anything other than to medicate myself in some way. It all boils down to me being completely blinded by my addiction. Decisions I made in those days were not made by a person in her right mind.

Carrying this load with me for many years after the drugs were long gone has put me here today. Wondering...Pondering...Begging for that answer.

SHINING MY SHELL

Some days are just the same as others. They run together like watercolors on paper. Before you know it you have painted a picture with time. Only to be seen when you step back to take a look. You see the true beauty of the work you have done. Days turn into weeks turn into years. Although I try to cherish each day sometimes before I look up a month has passed. My children are older and changing. Where does that time go? I am not certain if this is good or bad. Knowing that times in my life flew by without me noticing is sometimes disturbing for me. Where did that time go? Was it important? Am I missing something from not knowing? Trusting in my self that if it were crucial to my future I would remember, is all I can do.

Having opened my eyes to my past, present and, future I am going to try my hardest to document my past, live in the present and look forward to the future. Brightness ahead, brightness of living out each day taking good care of myself. Allowing my children to be who they are no matter what and know that it is ok to be different. They are loved and conforming to others to fit in is not the solution. The light I see in the future does shine bright for me. I know I can handle what comes my way. I am not alone. I do not walk this path alone.

Connecting with myself ...Being that I have been a people pleaser for as long as I can remember has hurt me. Doing for others before myself has kept me in the back like that leftover plate in the fridge that gets pushed back day after day until, oops.

Leaving myself out of the picture a lot of times. Literally when I look at the pictures of my family I am rarely in them. I am behind the camera. When someone did get a shot of me I was mostly mortified by the glimpse that camera got of me in that one close of the shutter. Not only was I completely unrecognizable to myself I also looked so sad. The life in my eyes seemed depleted. Denial was living in me. I lived a lie. Rarely knowing the person in the picture,this wasn't me. Couldn't be...How do I make the connection again.

Love the image of myself. Be proud of who I am and how I look along with the aura I put off. Find the well of life that is flourishing in my soul and show it to the world with out fear of rejection. Fear of failure, fear fear fear. I am no longer that child afraid of the hand coming out from under the bed so why should I live that way. Staying in my home, not venturing out to be seen and be a part of society. I refuse to continue down that lonely road. I am here, I am 39 today and, feel as though life today is limitless. I won't be bungee jumping anytime soon. That is not what I mean. Baby steps. I am coming out of my shell a better person. One day I may abandon the shell and live completely free of the weight I have carried around in my shell,emotional and physical. But for right now I am just shining the shell I am in and making it a lovelier place to be..... For me.

1992-3ish

It occurs to me that sitting at my desk, working, is the time when I do most of my thinking. Coming up with the next thing to say, the next memory to document. Once I enter the door of my house it is on. No time to worry about what went wrong. No time to dwell over the past. Life is abundant in my home.Puppies greet you at the door tales a wagging looking for the first of the attention to be given that evening. My son is always coming up with some new experiment to try. God help us. Entertaining is the thing he likes to do. Jokes and underarm farts are a common thing when he is around. My youngest daughter, the artist, always has the latest masterpiece to splay in front of me daily while I prepare dinner. In walks the hubby to give that kiss I am ever so grateful for daily. I feel like a 50's housewife working in the kitchen, things are smelling good and in walks your husband gives you a "hello,dear" and a peck on the cheek.

Uh..wait a minute..

I worked 8 hours today . Snap out of it. Moving on. I could never be bored at home with the constant love and attention they give me. I hear I love you from them in some form every day sometimes all day. Whether it takes the form of a song or a picture or simply a big squeeze and kiss. I am at my best when around my family. Point being I am grateful for this time I have at work to think about me and my life and pick it apart. Only keeping the best of the best that will keep me healthy and happy. So let's go there...

Austin, Texas 1992-3ish. I have to admit I lost track of time in those days. I know it was summer. When you don't have to know what day it is, you don't. Fridays meant nothing to me I was out 7 days a week. I had no job. I was a hairstylist and wanted to do MAD hair. Well, I found out very quickly that punk rockers do there own hair. Literally with the cheapest product you have ever seen. We lived a few apartments down from 2 punk rock guys and I wanted to do their hair. Their names-Turtle and Dave. Dave was a character, his hair was as red as cherry kool-aid , colored his teeth black with sharpies and wore a band-aid on his face. His clothes were torn and dirty. He smelled. Looks can be deceiving because he was a very nice kid. So I introduced myself and wanted to know where he gets his hair done. Quickly informed he did his own and was able to see it first hand one day, as he poured Clorox in his already bleached hair, then when it was bleach yellow he put cherry kool-aid in it. Wow. Can you say, over processed? Well that is an understatement. Having met several of his friends all of which didn't have a dime and all did there own hair, Elmer's glue for the mo hawks and most had a jar or two of manic panic for color. I could see I wasn't going to make a dime in Austin trying to do punk rock hair. I went to the drag one day to find a job. Just one day.

My roommate on the other hand had a full time job and was diligently working and being responsible. She was serious, she was here to live. The love of her life was here and she wasn't going to mess it up. I,on the other hand had just lost the love of my life and didn't give a rats ass about responsibility. I was here to party. Party I did. I never even made it out of the house to go out each night until around 11pm. Months went by and I was not a contributor to our living environment in any way. Food stamps and checks from home were the only thing that kept me above water.

My looks had changed dramatically,I was no longer the pretty girl that was engaged to be married that same year. I had cut my hair off, very very short in fact it at times was shaved in the back and sides leaving hair on top to prove I was a girl. I colored what hair I had purple and wore the same thing over and over. No jewelry other than beads and rubber bracelets, army fatigue shorts with a men's v-neck white tee with army boots given to me by a friend who had been in the army. Most of the time I wasn't very feminine. Leaving a club at 3 am alone and having to walk to your car is not the time to bring attention to yourself. Only people out at that time are the homeless and the leftovers like me.

My routine for months was the same. I really don't remember when I slept in those days.I know I did but it wasn't my biggest priority. Found a club right off 6th street named Mercado Caribe that would allow me to enter for free. Still don't know why they did because I never talked to any of the people who worked there. Can't begin to guess but they also let me drink frozen sangria's for free every night. Thinking about it all I can come up with is the guys from the band that I followed. We had all been in there together a few times at gigs and sitting in the back smoking dope before the shows is my best guess as to how they knew my face. Didn't matter I got in free and that is what I did . I went to listen to music only. I rarely socialized with anyone other than to smoke dope. I spent most of my time in those months on acid. Cheapest and longest high I could find. I never had money for pot but I know I smoked it every day. It was abundant. Parked in the alley behind the club went in and sometimes drug a few stragglers back to the apartment to hang out until morning. Needless to say my roommate who had to work the next morning did not appreciate my friendliness.

What went wrong? Couldn't tell you. After months of the same thing, not ever finding work always bringing home other drug addicts, feeding them our food and being disrespectful I came home one night to an empty apartment. She had moved out with her boyfriend. The gig was up. Rent was not paid had no money to pay it. No money to buy gas or cigarettes anymore. Had burned my acid dealer because I would eat all of his acid instead of sale it. Running out of options for the most part. The last straw was when my car broke down. Stuck all by myself in that lonely apartment. Realizing what I had done never entered my mind. My dumb ass was in the hole I had dug, and couldn't get out by myself. The friends I had made over the past 6 months were just as bad or worse off than me. The last memories I have of the apartment were laying in bed watching the koresh davidianship burn to the ground. It crashed and burned with all the lives that were taken and I was this selfish lost person watching it with no feeling at all about it. I remeber not being affected by the travesty. I was gone..a waste.. fried.

My parents came to get me...I was going home. Loaded my car on a trailor and I went back to the place I had run from in the first place. Going back to Brenham having been on drugs for 6 months straight and looking like someone else was bound to be a problem...right?

MY PILE OF RUBBLE

To clear a few things up about the type of person I am and was in my past. As I have had more than one person tell me either I didn't know you were so unhappy or I hear "oh come on you know we had fun". Both are right. I was not always unhappy, and I had a lot of fun in my life. I don't know if my blog is sending out the message that I was this basket case of a kid. I was not Ally Sheedy in the Breakfast Club. I tried, always to make the best out of every situation. I had a gift. It was comedy. People love to laugh and I could make you laugh with my sarcasm and my dry humor. I don't deny these things kept me on the up and up. I still have it, I am always thinking about the next thing to say. It is a part of me that I love and have always had. That I think made a lot of people think that Paige was this happy jolly fat chick. hohoho. I tried to make the best of it.

What I remember the most about all the parties from high school days is...we had fun, we always drank and I always drank too much. I always drank too much way too fast. I was the one sprawled out on the concrete around back dry heaving while the party was in full swing. Not y'all ...me. I still to this day can not drink certain things because of the amount of times I puked them. Was I trying to impress? I don't know. I wasn't depressed, I was troubled. Not knowing where I was headed,not knowing that this thing would grab me and take me for a ride. It seemed like we were all doing the same things right? Well I can tell you whenever it came to food, alcohol, or drugs I always overdid it.

Unhappy? depressed? lonely? not always. I could handle myself and had a way about me that made others want to be around. Did I go to college? NO! Did I get arrested numerous times? YES! Did I pursue my talent in art, the way I had dreamed of? NO! Could I have if I had not been so involved with drugs? Absolutely I would have. Do I regret anything I have done? Today? NO!

Looking at my children and knowing that if one thing in my past had been altered, even a little, would have caused me to miss that meeting. I met my husband by chance. We were not connected in any way. If I had not been there that night. How would things be different. Had I not been through what I had been through I would not have been there. I wouldn't have this man who gets me, although he doesn't think I am that funny. I wouldn't have my children. The personalities that they have. Oh I see my past in there. They are little trips. I know they are little mirrors of me. The laughing, the singing, the loud talking ,the sense of humor, the sarcasm. How could I have created more perfect beings. I love them and if it meant I had to do this all over again just to have them, I would.

Harboring my past is not what I am doing. I am cleaning out my closet of the bad things that literally weigh me down. So when reading this blog if it seems I am focused more on the bad times that is because I am. I am looking for what makes me this way. Trying to understand what it was that caused me this insanity. People do not do what I did. I look around and most of the time I was the biggest chick in the room. The largest in my entire family, the largest at work, the largest at the wedding I went to this past summer and that was on both sides of the family. That is overboard. To the extreme with food. Addiction? Pain! Low self esteem.

I was the one that chose to be around others that were worse than me and when you do that in the world of drugs. What started out as all fun and games with your friends leaves you with some very sick people. Because, I kept getting sicker, so finding people sicker than me takes you away from those who know you and care for you and drops you in the middle of a bunch of lying, stealing, cheating, messed up folks. Not a good place to be.

Continuing to live in denial of my issues left my life in a pile of rubble. If I had not chosen to make these changes when I did I would have lost it all. My family, my home, my husband. Would I have regretted it all then? YES! I can and am capable of making it better. Added a little water to the rubble and began to mold a complete person. I am on the potters wheel at the moment. I am an artist and know that my creation in the end will be a beautiful and stable.

MINUS THE HAIRY TOES

Still making progress in my journey to lose weight. It has been a fight, and every pound I have shed I become more and more clear on my life and how things should be. My battle with addiction is going to be lifelong. Being fully aware of that allows me to try and look at myself from the outside at times.

Looking in the mirror can be deceptive. My mind will flat out lie to me about my appearance and, because of that lie, put my health in great danger. I am my own worst enemy. Sabotage has always been the name of the game. Being a fan of The Lord of the Rings, I make a comparison of myself to that of Smeagol/Gollum. My precious! My precious! The sick part of me tells me it is going to be ok I need it. I have to have it. Can't live without it. The overindulgence of food is my ring. I was in the dark for such a very long time that parts of me did wrinkle up and crave more of what would ultimately kill me.

I did the same thing with drugs. I used them in order to not use food. It was still the same addiction. I have no doubt about that. I phened for food the same way I did cocaine. I huffed any vapor I came in contact with the same way I used to sneak food past my family to my room only to gorge on high calorie-high sugar concoctions. I hid this as well. I hid, or, so I thought. What denial addicts live in that they really think they can tear down their lives and noone will notice. It is hard to hide either one after a while. They both rear their ugly heads sooner or later and you have to make a choice. I have made that choice. Again.

Although these changes obviously had to run their course on their own. I have always had people reaching out to let me know, and, I wouldn't/couldn't accept what was put before me. I knew. I thought about it every day knowing something had to change. I had to... just....get....there. Ok so now that I am here and things are well. Knowing not to trust my mind. Don't know if I will ever be able to when it comes to this. 80 pounds gone. 50 more to go.

This leaves me on the journey the long long way through all the mud and the muck I traveled to get here. Telling this tale will surely help. It couldn't possibly hurt me. Me!, Frodo! lol. Minus the hairy toes. That's funny. Even though there is so much truth to that statement. I can't wear the ring of my past. The temptation is tooo great. I can not resist. I will simply tie it around my neck go through what I need to and hopefully when I get there and I have no idea how long that will take. I just pray that at the end of the road will be my lake of fire to throw this tempting sickness into. Be gone with it.... Remember it.... Respect it for the power it had over me. Never, ever, put it back on. Off I go to live in the Shire..yeah right.

WHAT? HOW? WHY?

Every day is a new day. Just when you think the fog is clearing, here it comes again. So many unexplained things. Why is it that bad things happen to good people. Why is there heartache in this world. It seems like it happens to the undeserving. Yesterday I was informed that a coworker had to hospitalize her baby boy. What a cutie pie. Poor baby was sick and it was sudden as I saw him last week. When I get to work today we are informed that her child died in the night. 4 months old! What? How? Why? He apparently had a virus and his little body lost the battle. Just hours earlier it was not so grim. Now they couldn't have their baby any longer.

The mother was sedated and hospitalized as would I have been. I can't imagine the loss of my child. One they had to work soooo hard to get. All of your hopes and dreams are gone. The love of their lives gone. Oh the agony. What do you say? How do you comfort? Is there any amount of sorrys that would even touch what this family has to deal with.

How do you go home? How do you empty the diaper pail. How do you clean the bottles? How? Who can do this? It just isn't fair. Everything happens for a reason. Right? I always believe that but what can be the reason for this death. He was a picture of health. Now we have a funeral to attend. How do you pick the coffin? It is too much to think about and I am not anywhere near the blast of this catastrophe.

I feel for this mother. As a mother I know the love. I remember looking down at my newborns and crying just because I made them. My body did this. This perfect creation. I still to this day look at my kids and remind them how I made them. They are from me and dad and are perfect in every way. I love my kids. I am so sad for this mother. I am sorry.

CAN'T FORGET THE PATCHOULI

Having had time to think for a while about my next blog I think I am ready to continue on this journey. I have all week long written a paragraph and deleted it. Not knowing where I am going with this I am not sure what to write. I don't want to over think it. I have so far been able to write honestly and openly and somewhat fearlessly about myself and how I am accepting change. I want to continue on that path. I like it most when I write my blog and get lost in it, only later to go back and read and say.... hmmmm....that is so real.

OK, so where was I? The last time I was in this place I was talking about Pete and his death. Maybe I needed this break from doing this to so I could process it. Anyway.

I had already started living a "party" lifestyle before he passed and so it was just the natural thing to do afterwards. I was in the midst of meeting people and going places I had never been to before. I was in and out of dance clubs. Parties where I didn't feel like the elephant in the room. I was social and the girls I stomped around with were WILD. Like I have never seen in my life. I was shocked by the carefree nature in which they did and said almost everything. Being around them empowered me. Made me feel beautiful and on top of the world. We were trouble with a capital T. The three of us spent almost every waking hour together. I was working at Wal-Mart at the time and trying to finish beauty school. Which was a joke, I spent the last few months of school sleeping. I think they felt sorry for me and put up with a lot. I would go weeks at a time without even showing up for school. I managed to party every night.

What seemed to me at the time like harmless was festering into a big problem to come. It did not take long for my girlfriends to introduce me to Austin, Texas. It was 1991, I was 21 and grunge had just hit the scene. Nirvana was up and running. The music was crazy and the music scene in Austin was out of control.

I am getting ahead of myself here. I didn't know a thing at the time about music or grunge or how to manage in a city that size. I was very clingy and awestruck most of the time. We would head up on the weekends and meet up with some of there friends who were from our hometown. They were in a band. Split was there name. I most likely looked like a deer in the headlights. The people were weird looking. Dreadlocks and torn clothes. Colored hair and mo hawks were things that I saw almost everywhere I went. I remember being especially intrigued by these people. What did they have that I didn't that made them so bold and daring and just what seemed to me at the time, proud of their individuality. I wanted to be that. I could feel it in my bones. I loved this town. I could be myself. Nobody knew you or your past. It goes without saying that I was on drugs through all of this and drinking regularly. Mostly pot at the time. I had no real connections at the time other than my good old buddies from younger days that still allowed me to mooch off of them.

Cindy and I decided that we needed to move to Austin. It was the coolest place to be and we were too cool for our Podunk town. I finished school and decided I was going to cut hair in Austin . I wanted to do hair for punk rock people. That was my dream at that minute. We loaded up, borrowed money from our parents, found an all bills paid apartment on Riverside. One exit from 6th street. Woohoo.

Moving day came and we were out of this world excited. Apartment on Town Lake. Funny looking back at how we were able to make a bad situation look sooo good. We could not see the poverty around us. We didn't notice or care about the broken security gate. The badly managed grounds. We had stars in our eyes. There was no stopping us we were on our own for the first time and had plans. This was the place. We had to be here. At this moment in time. Everyone was so full of life and music and love. The hippies were all over the place. Glass beads and hemp necklaces. Patchouli...can't forget the patchouli. Eeyore's birthday party. We didn't need to worry about the apartment and it's filthy exterior we weren't going to be home much anyway. It was hard to soak it all in . All the festivals and swimming holes hidden in the woods. Seemed like a perfect vacation to me. That is daytime in Austin. That was Cindy she was all about being a hippy and shopping for beads watching the free shows. What I hadn't figured out is that I would be a nightwalker. These two lifestyles were sure to clash.


Both of us were in a daze. What could go wrong? Right?

It is 5 and time to go home I will come back tomorrow.

DRAFT

Thinking about my past and the things I am reluctant to put down have held me back from moving forward with this blog. Too many questions in my head. Will I be judged? Do I really need to tell this story? Parts of me are pulling against each other, fully knowing it is most likely all in my head. Holding me back as always. Making me think less of myself than I should. I can tell just in the past month as I have not blogged very much how I am starting to do things differently than I was. My feelings out in this room did help me to stay out of my head and the sickness that lies there. I have lived in this life for such a long time that being different and squeezing out the puss that infected my soul is not exactly pleasant. My past is my present. There is work to be done.

June 16 2009
I was looking through my posts and found this draft. This one paragraph that was written a while back but is telling none the less. I didn't even finish or post it. It was me fearing moving on with the chronological order of my life. Fear of being judged. Fear of being the one judging others in this room that have had an impact on my life. Do I do it? I don't know yet. I want to. I want to write it out and let you mull over it. See the betrayal and abandonment. For what reason I want you to see it I am not sure. That is where I need to be very sure of my intentions before I do. Will it make me a better person? Will I learn anything from documenting my marriage and motherhood? Could. I am thinking. This may happen. Little bits at a time. My blog will not be based upon revenge or resentment. No one need get hurt from this. It is a healing process.

There has to be a way to do it and maintain that I love my family and do not feel like a victim to my marriage. Supportive and consoling. Everyone has issues. Some are worse than others. We dont get to pick the hand that is dealt to us. We can fold or play it out. What am I going to do?

Something to ponder

SCAR TISSUE

Things about my life are going to be forever changed because of the places I've been and things I have seen. I have a lack of trust in others as well as myself. My thoughts seems to be a bit darker and more warped than what I call "normal" people. It really sucks sometimes also. I wish I was normal and didn't have to look at life from the side of my eyes. Too many times have I tried to trust and love and lean on others only to find that there is no one there. To open my heart to people takes a lot from me and I do feel totally exposed. I AM totally exposed. Sitting there in my skin knowing that all it will take is a that one mistake of my judgement to strip me of my skin bearing the wounds that will heal,but only with scar tissue. Each time building up a thicker skin to endure the pain again.

I seem to stay there. Parts of me think this is where I want to be. Not necessarily in pain. I want to be a part of others lives. I want to risk life and love and friendship. The risk seems to be worth it. I seem to heal OK . What would life be without all of these things? Where would I be if I had not stepped out of that box I lived in. The life I disappeared in. It was a dark and lonely life. There were no risks in that. People have a real misconception about people that use drugs. They tend to think they are risk takers and tough, all that jazz. I beg to differ. I used drugs to disappear. I didn't want to deal with my life. The hurts, the tragedies,the losses. It was easier to sit in a dark space and do whatever was available at the time to force you into not thinking about the pains that had to be dealt with. They have to be dealt with! There is no other way around it. If I wanted out of the dark I had to lay it out. I had to look at it. I had to dissect it and say that was it. No more.

The feelings of pain and loss can be overwhelming. Just like everything else it does get better. The stabbing subsides and life smooths on. The realization of this has allowed me to be that better person I am today. I take the stresses of everyday life and share them with anyone who is willing to listen. Lately it has helped to just put them in this room. It is living. It is life. Knowing I have to accept my past and the skewed way I have of looking at things has gotten easier for me each day. I shouldn't look at is as warped. Although I know it is.

I am on this journey to shed that old skin which has held me captive for so long. A few bumps in the road have come and keep coming but I am trying to stay focused on my goal here. I will continue to blog and most importantly, for now, blog about my past. There are questions that need to be answered. I know drugs are not in my future but that is not why I am here. Food! I used food. The same way I did drugs. Going back hopefully will get me the answers I need. I have faith that I am not going to ever go back to the person I was less than a year ago. I have been free now for a little while and boy does it feel good.

Progression not perfection

FINDING MY HAPPY PLACE

Today has been a lot like the past week. I consider it a wash. Work is done and again I have a headache. I am going home to lie down and hopefully it will pass. I have lots to do in my house.

I can't seem to sleep. I have never been an insomniac. I don't want to be either. When I am sleeping I am having nightmares. I am scared when I wake up and keep thinking someone is in my house. So I lie there too scared get up and too scared to go back to sleep. I know it has a lot to do with my daughter and the company she keeps. These kids all look unstable and they keep walking by my house. One of which spit in my yard. The other walks by with her pit bull. If you know me I am not easily shaken by things. I am not scared of movies, or being alone. I do read a lot of true crime books and think I am probably thinking too hard about it.

I feel like I am sleeping with one eye open. I am fully expecting to wake up to a teenager in my house with a knife. Am I overreacting? Maybe. I am not trying to think these thoughts. They are coming in the from of a nightmare. Once I wake up from it I am freaked out. I know this is not going to happen but my dreams are so real and scary. I want this to go away. I don't like being afraid.

Even when I am in the store, when I see a teenager, I get the feeling of distrust. It is very weird as I usually don't pay any attention to anyone in the store. I usually have tunnel vision. I am surprised that I have been so affected by my daughters behavior and her choice of friends. They all seem to have so much emotional baggage. Very disturbed and that freaks me out. Even with all the doors and windows locked I feel very insecure.

How do I get past this fear. I refuse to live in fear. It isn't fair to me. I haven't done anything wrong. I do not think that my daughter is trying to kill me but what I know is that she is very vulnerable right now. Following the lead of all of her "friends". I do know she blames me the most for her woes. I am the cause of the problems because I am the disciplinarian.

I really just want to sleep. This couldn't be much worse right now.

I am trying to keep my head up and be grateful for the things I have in life. Which is a lot. I am truly blessed and thank God all day for the things I have and truly respect all of it because things could have been sooo different for me. I didn't do any of this. The things I have in my life today were a gift that I continually am thankful for.

These thoughts and fears I need to leave behind. It is a manipulation of the mind. I need to end my day in a good place with happy thoughts and simple prayers.

OH MY DAUGHTER! MORE BLOOD FOR TEARS

It is definitely a Monday. I haven't been able to get anything accomplished today. The computer tech is here and been back and forth all day. I have a lot to do. Well while I am at it I thought I might check in with a new entry. I don't know what I am writing about today as my life seems to be spinning a little out of control. Teenagers.

I remember those days and remember the troubles I caused. Very well. What I don't remember is ever disrespecting my parents with language not suited for a sailor. I can't remember it because I didn't do it. I loved my parents very much and tried my hardest to shield them from the things I was doing. I never crossed my dad and wouldn't dare have done it with my mother, for fear of my dad. Simple. I was no dummy. I never wanted to hurt my parents. I cried when I hurt them. I always wanted to be better for them. I never was, but I never thought they didn't love me. I got that part of it. I got that they fought with me because of that.

I have to believe that my daughter knows the same thing even though she says the opposite. I personally am getting a lot of the blame for all that is wrong. I expected too much. I am being portrayed as an unfit and uncaring parent by my daughter. I have no defense because I don't know these people she is with and they especially don't know me. They don't know me and how many years I have tried to see her to the light. I have tried and fought and screamed and cried what seems like blood for tears. I want to not take all of this attack personally. I feel like my character is being pulled apart one petal at a time. I am strong and can stand my ground even though I want to run around defending myself I know that I don't have to. I know what I have done for this child. I know what lengths I have been to with her. I know how much I sacrificed in my life to raise her even when she wasn't mine to raise. I don't have to prove to anyone what I know in my heart. I have done the best I can do.

I wasn't even going to write about her until it was time. We have a past. It is a huge part of my life. I will write about this almost 14 year relationship at another time as alot of it will definatley leave most people saddened.

The future is yet to be seen as far as this very delicate relationship goes. There is a lot of growing up to be done. I will not accept anything less than that. She has chosen to be the example of what happens when you get involved in drugs and move out on your own. We have two small children that have big ears and soft hearts. I don't want them to hear the words that are being said. I don't want to start that hardening of the heart process that will happen if there is too much exposure to all of this dysfunction. How do I protect the young ones and still make my daughter see what she is doing is wrong. The future that she had planned for is in danger. For today we are letting her go. Not like we have a choice.

I can feel that things are changing within myself. How do I keep a handle on my own mental health through all of this. I am not sleeping well. Dreaming of snakes and anxiety ridden scenarios. I know all of this is related. I am hungrier now and I know that food can not become the outlet for my pain. Not again. I have to figure out a way to get through all of this without turning to food for comfort.Lots of prayer and talking amongst friends and family. I am venting. I have to not just think about others today. I have to take care of myself in order for me to be able to carry on with this life struggle. I am going to be OK! It is not too much! I have to be able to talk about the pain and hurt feelings so I don't just put on that brave face and suffer internally. Do I sound selfish? There are a lot of I's in this paragraph. Maybe I need to be. Just about this. This is one change I have made in my life that I have to hang on to. I am digging my nails in to this and not letting it go. Food is not my friend.

So....this is it we are still in the same boat, floating around without a paddle. Hopefully soon I can get back to where I was before. I haven't had much time to think about my past and how I want to document it. Although it has been very good for me to do so. I have so far been very proud of the words I have written. Seeing how far I have come and how so much of it just seems to be pouring out in this room with very little thought. The healing process has begun to finally close that last irritating scab that would never heal. I am tired of picking at that last sore. I am healing, sick thoughts are subsiding. Hating myself is no longer. I am a great person, I am a wonderful mother and the best wife ever.

TOUGH LOVE?! DAMMIT?!

I arrived home and went straight to bed with my head pounding. I was able to sleep for about and hour and the headache was not as bad. I went to the kitchen to start dinner for the family. The kids were outside playing in the yard. I watched them from the window. I like my life, I like my home. I love my family.

I don't know what made me go into my oldest daughters room. At this point I don't remember,but when I went in I was surprised as it looked as if she was cleaning her room. It is always a disaster. So I took a closer look and thought wow she is even getting rid of some stuff. The more I looked I could see that all her shoes were gone, the bed was covered in hangers, and all of her clothes were gone. Oh, I think she has moved out. hmm. So I went into investigative mode. My niece called her to inquire and she said she would be home at 10. Well we waited and when she came home we all sat in the living room and I asked where all of her clothes are. I got the normal, Huh? So I asked are you moving out? The answer was yes. She is 17 and has done her homework. She knows she can even though we don't want her to. It was a total surprise to Jeff and I as things have been pretty good around the house for months now. I thought we were through all this rebellion. I guess not.

I am thinking this has everything to do with the conversation we had Friday before all hell broke loose with my Dad. I had a sneaking suspicion that she was doing drugs and confronted her on it. There isn't a lot a person can get past me as I have been there and done that when it comes to that topic. I told her that it wasn't OK and we all wanted her to not do this. Please think about it very carefully. I didn't like the people she hangs with and could tell they were not good influences in her life or for her future. She stood there looking past me with her hair over one eye. All I could get from her was, "Can I go now?" She was checked out. I knew it but had to go and do what I needed to for my father and would handle all this when I came home.

Well less than 24 hours after I arrived home she has made the life decision to move away from our home. No reason, other than she has a lot going on right now and can't talk to us about it. So we are left in the dark and she doesn't seem to care. It is none of our business as she so bluntly put it.

My life is flashing before me. Oh the mistakes I made. If only she could learn from mine. The only thing I know is I can't do what my parents did. They enabled me to continue on the road of destruction for many years. Afraid to use tough love because I may not have a place to go. Fear of the unknown kept them offering me more and more. I took and took and never looked back. Just kept on trucking. What if they had cut me off. Would I have gone to work and shortened the length of time I spent out there torturing myself. I would have to say yes. You can't make it without money in this world and if you don't have your parents to give it to you when they know what you are using it for but can't help themselves then you can't keep up with the Jones. I am hoping and praying that it is going to be short lived and she ends up OK.

I don't really know what I think right now. I am just shocked. It is tough being a parent and you never ever know for a 100%fact that what you are doing is the right thing. I wish I had that handbook on parenting. Is there and exact right thing to do? I don't think so. I need to relax and trust my gut on this. I need to stand strong and continue on the path I am on . Healing my life, my home and our family unit. She is making her own choices at this point. I can only offer my words. I have done so.

THANKFUL

He is an admirable man with many attributes that make me want to be a better person. He stands strong in his beliefs. Has lived a noble life and strives to be a better man each day. Many people love him and look up to him. I am one of those people. This man to me is more than all I have listed. He is my daddy. Been there for me through everything I have done in my life. No matter what it was I was always loved by him and treated kindly in the face of all the destruction I caused. Never made me feel shame. Always believed in me and only wanted and still wants for me the best. A truly emotional being that will laugh, cry, argue, joke with me about almost anything. I couldn't have asked for a better father in my life. He takes the cake.

So when I got the call Friday night as I was pulling into the parking lot of a restaurant to celebrate my husbands birthday with his family that my mom had to call 911 because my dad coouldn't walk suddenly. Immediately went to the hospital to meet him when the ambulance arrived. As it turned out my fahter suffered a mini-stroke (transient ischemic attack) TIA. All of his symptoms had subsided and was able to walk talk and pass all the test that were put before him. We were all so afraid. He was admitted to the hospital for further testing to make sure he didn't have a blockage of any kind. He was transferred by ambulance to Bryan .

We arrived at St. Josephs on Friday night around 9 tp the E.R. and didn't get into a room until 3 in the morning. The 3 of us were completly exhausted by this time and passed out for a few hours before the next day started. The waiting game was on. By all accounts he felt pretty much 100% and was ready to go but we had to get the test done. Well, that took over 36 hours just to get that done in the meantime the doctors decided to play with his blood pressure medicine which caused all kinds of problems and more scares.

We ultimately made it home to see the superbowl that evening. He is feeling better.As if it never happened. I am so grateful for that. Seeing my dad in any other way besides a picture of health is not something I am used to. Nor do I ever want to. It is something I am going to have to think about now. He is getting older and as we know everyone dies. I don't want to think about my life without my parents yet. I am not ready as selfish as that sounds. It is what it is. They are a crucial part of my childrens life as well as mine.

These things I had to think about all weekend and am totally exhausted emotionally and physically. I have had a splitting headache all day that I am hoping I can sleep off tonight. Today I am just thankful that my daddy is alive and well and was given more time here with us.

EVERY SILVER LINING HAS ITS CLOUD

From the beginning of my relationship with Pete, I was different. I had slipped into that person I knew I was supposed to be. Wanted to be. I had completely stopped doing drugs period and was no longer smoking cigarettes. We drank only in social situations. He was a cowboy, a real cowboy. He owned horses and cows, was active in team roping. Going from rodeo to rodeo. I was treated so kindly by him and we were in love. Around all new people, none of which even knew what drugs looked like. I was different. I never dressed like the other girls who wore there boots and jeans. I still had that edgy rock style that was liking my new found body.

My family loved him and we spent a lot of time with my parents just hanging with them. I had changed my life and was loving it. We were able to laugh and love and spend all our time together without any problems. It didn't take long before we knew we were meant for each other. He asked me to marry him and we were happily engaged. I had become a social person with lots of new friends. I could hardly remember all of the pain and suffering I had just recently left behind.

Then, we found out that I was pregnant. We both did not know what to do. I am not sure why because I was already planning our wedding and this should have just sped things up. We definitely handled it all wrong. Kept the news to ourselves afraid of what our parents would think about it. I did go to the doctor and kept my monthly appointments. I was excited about it but for whatever reason around others we were in denial not telling a soul. About 3 months into the pregnancy our coworkers began to notice the weight gain and the buzz was out.People were talking. We still did not confirm this with anyone but ourselves. So immature.

On my 4th month checkup with my doctor I went in and went through the normal exam but something was different. The nurses were quiet and went in and out. I was sent to receive a sonogram and remember how the man doing it would not speak to me, having the screen turned away from me. I knew something was wrong. I had Pete waiting out in the truck for me that day as being seen together in the gyno office would alert enquiring minds in our small town. My next stop was the doctors private office where he notified me our baby was dead. I think I crumbled into a million pieces that moment, all alone in that office. Now what? Well the procedure was going to be an E&C. Whatever that means, I know the first word stood for evacuation. But the catch was it was a holiday weekend Presidents Day which happens to fall right around Valentines Day. I was told I would carry my dead fetus around inside of me for about 5 more days before the procedure could be done. I was a bridesmaid in a wedding that weekend! I was a wreck. We still did not tell my parents or his about what was happening. We were both in shock and mostly didn't talk about it. I was a robot the entire weekend.

Going to the hospital and checking in by myself I can't even remember. I was in a daze and had told Pete to go to work that I would be OK. The next thing I remember I was done and laying in a room by myself waiting to be released. No more baby, and it all hit me. All the emotions came rushing in on me and I was alone. The loneliness was overwhelming and I was more sad at that moment than ever in my life. Why was I alone? I picked up the phone and called my mother who was at work and when she answered I just sat there crying. I couldn't talk I think I was able to get the words hospital out and she flew into a panic. Thinking I was in a wreck. No Mom not a wreck. I was a wreck but not in one. Of course she came straight over tho the hospital and comforted me. That was it, it was done. I recovered at home and now everyone knew. I had to tell my boss and everyone there knew also.

Looking back at that it changed me. It hurt me but I did what I always had done. Didn't talk about the pain I started partying. We picked up the pace on our drinking and distinctly remember, that is when the fighting started. We were not in a good place. I lost a piece of me that day and didn't know how to recover. Anger was what it came out as. Lashing out in drunken fits at the nicest guy I had known. Leaving the factory was soon to follow. I was going to beauty school. My parents paid in full and I was on my way to a real career. I took a part time job in a grocery store deli. I postponed the wedding, stating I needed more time to plan.

Within a short while of being away from the factory, where we both worked, I found that I was obviously attractive to other men. This was new to me. I had lost and kept off a large amount of weight but that didn't mean my brain knew it. I, of course, didn't know how to handle all this attention that was being paid me by other men. Well in true fashion of a girl with low to no self esteem and writhing in pain I acted out. I was cheating on my fiance. Not a relationship, just cheating. I knew at times he must have known, things changed dramatically between us and I was the main source of all the destruction again. I was tearing my life apart. I couldn't see it for sure. I was having fun and thought I was missing out on loads of fun to be had. I started partying without him going to night clubs and getting wasted. The end was nearing....

I did break it off with him. I needed time to figure things out I think was my reason. So off I went into this world I had never been. I was young and beautiful and careless with my self at best. I stopped showing up to school for more than a few hours at a time. I again was partying all night and sleeping all day. Back on drugs in no time flat. Pete and I would still talk but I called all the shots and would hold nothing back. I hurt him so badly. I remember his eyes. I remember the pain in them. All he wanted was his girl back but little did he know I was too far gone to ever come back. I held on to him for my own selfish reasons. I needed to feel that love he had. Like I mattered to him.

One night in June I had a party at my parents house while they were away for the weekend and it was out of control. I don't know how many people were there rifling through my parents things disrespecting all of there belongings. I got a phone call and it was Pete. He wanted to talk to me about something. Well, I didn't have time for that. We were partying and he was being a downer so I quickly ended the call and went about my life. Not thinking about him or the call again.

About three days later I was at Cindy's house and went to take a shower around 5:30p.m. to get ready for the night. I wore and never took off, this one necklace it was a simple leather strap with wire wrapped around a crystal. Loved it. Kinda believed it. You know the whole new age thing. While in the shower the crystal fell from the thin wire it was wrapped in and cracked in half on the floor of the shower. I was instantly alerted and upset I showed it to Cindy and remember her saying that it means someone died. We just kinda looked at each other and that was it.

Not until the next day while sleeping in Cindy's bed did I get a phone call from another girlfriend that Pete had been in a car accident on his way home from work the day before. He hadn't made it. What? Pete was dead! Pete was dead! Pete was dead???? Couldn't be, I wasn't understanding what I was hearing.

All was a blur after that. I remember the funeral. I remember how my once vibrant fiance was lying there cold and gray. No life, no smile, nothing. I remember the sound of his mothers voice screaming his name in pain over and over again in the church. I remember the overlall sadness that covered that church like a wet cloth. I put a picture of us in his coffin. I can still see that picture in my head today. Of days that were good. We both had life and love in our eyes. How could he be in there now. This man was so amazing in every way. The people he had that loved him. I didn't have that. I had to leach off of him to feel that kind of happiness and friendship. I think I died too that day.

I ran hard and fast from that pain and it was many more years to come before I ever even dealt with the fact that he was dead. I prolonged the pain and suffering in my life over the death of our unborn child followed quickly by the death of him. It all gets dark after this day....I moved into unknown territory by most. I left everyone that loved me and tried unknowingly to make myself suffer for pain I didn't know what else to do with. The lingering question constantly on my mind. What did he want to talk to me about that night I blew him off? It was important I know. Why couldn't I have taken that call and if I had would things be different now? I was in hell. I had to escape and the only way I knew how to escape from anything was to take more drugs.

Goodbye Pete you sweet, sweet man. I will see you in Heaven one day I know. You and our unborn child .

Everything happens for a reason.?!

WOULD YOU LIKE FRIES WITH THAT?

I am at a point in this blog about my past where it all becomes a blur. I don't know what to talk about specifically. It would seem as if I were very scattered and all over the years. I am not sure how to categorize it all. Where I left I was 15 and so confused. I have so much more to tell but I want to make sure as I do explore these areas that I am not being totally gratuitous. Just flapping my gums or claiming bragging rights about "look at where I have been." I have heard all of these before. I have straight out been called a liar about my past. It was too far fetched for the average person to fathom. So.. I don't know yet.

I want to say that through it all, I wanted to be good. I did not always want to make the lousy choices I did. I had bouts of behavior that was becoming of a lady. I tried to see the light of day many times and just couldn't seem to stay there. I remember when I was younger lying in bed at night praying so hard for forgiveness, making promises I wouldn't keep. Promises that had strings attached. Begging for mercy. Spare me from trouble, spare me from being caught, spare me from being pregnant. For a long time in my life God did answer my prayers. A lot of that started to change when I just forgot to ask and didn't live up to my word. I was made responsible for my actions.

I was 19 and out of school working the drive through at Wendy's with no plans of going to college. I blew all my opportunities that came my way. I was working and playing and that was my life. I did at that age start going to a weight loss clinic. I was so overweight and needed to do something. I was diligent I kept true to this program and the weight started coming off. I was a power walker. Ended up losing about 100 pounds. I stopped drinking. Drugs? Not so much. They didn't have calories. I was functional though.


I think my entire goal was to lose the weight so I could get a boyfriend. I had never had a true boyfriend. All the experience I had with boys were all hidden and not talked about in the open. I learned real quick how that worked. Hardened my heart to it. I wanted love and knew the only way I would find it was to get in shape. I had my eye on someone and just knew if I lost it we would fall in love and live happily ever after. Nope, I was skinny and used again. I was so in love with him and he was not with me. I was left standing empty handed with a shredded heart. Embarrassed and ashamed from the rejection I didn't know where to turn so I spent a lot of time punishing myself with more empty relationships. Risky relationships. Immediately following that failed relationship, I found another I could not have. Can't even talk about it really. Lips sealed heart torn.


I got a job in a factory and was making bed springs for your mattress. I was a horrible job but as always I tried to make the best of it. I partied all might and worked all day. Until one day I was joking around with some coworkers and they dared me to go out with a guy there. He was a forklift driver. Totally not my type but I am always up for a bet. He was not very good looking and that is all I knew. So, we went on that date and it changed my life forever. I had found my first love and the times we had together taught me how not to destroy myself. To respect myself and be a better person all around. It seemed like things had come together for me. I was growing up. What could go wrong?

I am going to stop here because I think Pete deserves his own day. I will elaborate on this the next time I come here. I need to think about it and not step on toes with what I write. A turning point in my life. Stay tuned.

GOODBYE MAMAS BATHROOM

Last night as I lay in bed there was one specific incident that happened when I was around 15 that was sticking in my mind. I have always avoided this topic throughout my life acting as if it had never happened and well maybe I need to scream it out. Let it go and forgive myself for it.

I was around 15 and had skipped school ,I remember it was a Wednesday. I went with some friends and we drove to Bryan with about a dollar in our pockets. We didn't skip all day for whatever reason. We ended up back in school that day and I was quickly called to the principals office. They informed me that I had skipped and of course I tried my best to get out of it. They weren't buying it. My punishment was going to be d-hall, which was fine. What wasn't going to work was that they were going to call my parents. I remember begging them not to call them. Please don't call them! They are going to kill me! Of course they were obligated to do so.

I was in total distress over this fact and just knew that it was over. I was so scared and overwhelmed by what was going to be at home once I got there. I could not rationalize anything. I thought for sure that the answer to my problem that day was to die.

After getting home that day I went into my mamas bathroom and sat there crying about what I knew I had to do. I couldn't quite figure out how I was going to do this but two things came to mind. I could either cut my wrists or overdose on pills. I was only 15. I am a mother now and as I am writing this I can only think of my own children and how easy it must be for them to get overwhelmed with life as I did. It scares me to death. OK...moving on .. I drew a bath and sat there for a long time deciding that cutting my arms was not an option for me, I crawled out of the bath, opened my parents medicine cabinet and, started taking pills. I don't have a clue what I took or how much. I knew they were prescriptions and thought this would do it. Climbing back into the tub I had a come to Jesus meeting and was ready to go. Don't know how long I lay there,long enough to realize I didn't really want to die. Life was not so bad after all and I would need to accept my punishment.

Shoving my finger down my throat was about the most excruciating thing I had ever done. Bulimic, I am not. The pills did come out , as I was in the middle of forcing them out, there came a knock at the bathroom door. My dad was home!Early! Asking what I was doing.
Of course I lied and I began to cry and could not stop. I was sobbing for the guilt and the emotional pain that I had been living with but could not comprehend at that age. I was alive and knew I would never ever try to do that ever again.

The tears continued to sting my eyes for the remainder of the night,as I talked with my parents about me skipping school and we all went to the Wednesday night prayer meeting at my church in Chappell Hill which at the time was held in the museum. Sitting in a circle with gas heaters all around us I cried and nobody bothered me as I was not going to ever tell anyone what I had just done that day. It was between me and Jesus.

I kept it inside and I have never really told this entire story. I have looked at it privately and been grateful for my choices that day. The people I wouldn't have in my life. My children would not be in this world today. I would not have been able to experience my life as I know it, everything I am going through right now.

Teenage suicide,it makes me wonder when I know about kids that have done it I wonder if there reason was just as insignificant as mine. I was going to kill myself over skipping school. The experience humbled me in a way that I knew I was important enough ,that day, to be here in this world ,I had more to do. Years have passed since then and I tortured myself for many more. Although I never purposefully tried to kill myself again I did live a life that had no guarantee of the next minute. I lived in risky behavior,barely treading water most of the time.

I am grateful today for my life. I cherish the time I have with family and friends. I have slowly learned to treat myself like I am something to treasure. Feeling as though I don't really want to publish this post today. Is it too much info? Probably not for anyone who will read it. For me it is sensitive material. It somehow exposes me as the weak and hurt person I was. Well, I started this blog to do exactly that. I need to strip it down, look at it, let things go, gather up the good things and strap on for more in life to come. It just keeps coming. I am alive and in love and I know today that the plan for me was set all the time. Everything happens for a reason.

OK, so it is out of me and in this room. I think I may just leave it here. I have no use for this story. I have no need for the emotional weight it brings. Good bye mamas bathroom. It's been 24 years since that happened. I still think about it and it makes me wince. Hopefully this will change that.

DOWNWARD SPIRAL

As I am thinking about my life, and I do it daily I think wow I really have it good. I have no complaints for the most part. I think that has been all of my life. Are we always harder on ourselves than others? I would definately say yes. I have beat myself up for a long time. I never tried things, always hung in the back of the crowd as to not be noticed. Whenever I was approached by a guy "in my single days" I always dismissed it as, he was mistaken, what could he possibly want with me. I never ever felt like I had what it took. What does that mean? You got me. I guess that is why I am here laying it out. How do I make myself worthy of .....myself?

I am going back now to the summer before my 9th grade. I had made friends, and they were all very tall and very beautiful girls that I couldn't believe wanted me around. Yes they partied, and there parents were the kind of parents that at least were semi-aware of the situation. I was so new to it all. I went buck wild. If we were drinking I would drink the most just to show them I could. Which never worked out for me, as you can imagine. Once we started smoking I was the chain smoker. Always smoked one after another. I took everything to the next level. It did not take long before we were all smoking pot and when school started that year we were considered "potheads". Well that ,to me, was better than not being considered at all. I relished the title and did whatever it took to keep up the rest of the older more experienced crowd.

I spent every weekend at someone elses home. A friends house always the one with the least interested parents. It was easy to find a friend who had a single mom who was more worried about her personal life than the life of her kids. I was at that house! They would buy us alcohol and let us smoke in the house. We were 14 by the way. The girl that I befriended was considered a "slut" in school and to me that was soooo cool. Boys liked you. hmm.. enough said


I was on a downward spiral and it didn't take long for the drinking and drugs and sex to progress quickly. I began hanging around a bunch of guys that were a lot older than me. My best friends cousin and all of his buddies. They were all into drugs. We learned real fast. My grades plummeted and I was hardly ever in school. My parents grounded me nonstop and would fight me but I was too far gone. Nothing they said mattered to me I was on this path and there seemed to be nothing to stop it from happening. I wasn't afraid of it. I wasn't afraid of there punishment either. Bring it on. They now could see that we had a problem. They were finding the ciggarettes and the pipes for smoking pot. They did not know what to do. I didn't care what they did.

It didn't take long for me to get in trouble I think I was 16 and was arrested for shoplifting. I stole a Violent Femmes CD from a store and they had me on tape. I remember the embarrassment and shame being walked back into the store. I remember the car ride to the station,I was shoving everything I had stolen from the other stores down in the seat with my handcuffs on. Once at the station my friend and I were separated and taken into this room where I was told to take off all of my clothes. Strip search!!!!! Are you kidding me? I don't get naked in front of people. I am this way overweight teenager that has serious self esteem problems and they want me to get naked. It wasn't a suggestion, I was to strip. I did and after the humiliation of having to bend over and cough, I could get dressed. I guess they were trying to scare us. I would not tell them my parents name or number. I was gonna live it out in jail rahter than have them notify my parents. Lock me away! So they did and about 2 hours later my parents were there to bail me out. I guess my friends mom called them. The outcome of my lil shopping spree put me on probation for 5 years. With lots of community service. Some may have learned there lesson from an ordeal like that. I didn't.

I was a disaster.I was a drug addict and alcoholic at age 16. I treated myself like a lab rat. It didn't matter to me what drug it was or the effect of it I was going to take it and more of it than you. What was wrong with me? I think I was desperate to fit in. I needed to be noticed and I was with my risky behaviors. This lasted all through my high school years. Progression. I had done it all and there was no stop in sight. By the time I graduated high school I had done more drinking smoking and drugs than most people can even imagine. I was around more due to the crowd I hung with. They were a lot older in there 20's and had the connections that most teenagers couldn't even get close to. Cocaine,ecstasy, acid, and more were something I was able to get my hands on easily. I quickly became the go to girl at school. I could get the alcohol and drugs and almost always had it on hand. I was what I thought was so cool. Little did I know where I was headed. The dangerous path to come. Because this is the beginning. A long road I put myself down. I was surely to pay the consiquence.

MATCHMAKER MATCHMAKER

It is Monday morning and the office is very boring. I am taking a break so I thought I would tell you guys about my weekend. Or what has been going on. I have this super sweet sister-in -law that is single and very unlucky in love. After several heartaches in the last year I told her that her "picker" was broken and to let me find a guy for her so I have been looking around. Found through my neice this guy who sounded great on paper. He was divorced, 2 kids, church going kinda guy. Okay...so I told her about him and they were set up and hit it off right off the bat. I think the next day he lost his job and basically became a couch potato for the next 3 months of there relationship. I was in a panic.. this guy was my idea and he went from a hero to a zero in no time. So I did damage control talking with her and helping her see that even though she is lonely she deserved soo much more than this guy. She listened to me...finally.Whew!

That was close..

During this courtship of hers I had already met the new boyfriend that she needed to meet. I knew as soon as I met him that they would get along. He is so nice and genuine. You could totally tell from the 1st meeting. He works with my husband and I met him at the Christmas party. So as soon as we hit the parking lot to leave I was grilling my husband about this guy and how perfect he would be for his sister. Is he married? Ever been? Does he have children? College?
All the answers were perfect.

So my quest was on ..I had to somehow figure out how to remove this leech of a guy she is with and arrange a meeting for these two. Well the guy finally did enough to make her say enough and he was gone. I was beginning to get nervous.

Jeff asked the new guy if he would be interested in a date with his sister. I know, funny huh? He was ok with it, but I think he is very shy so there was no commitment. Well he ended up throwing an "We survived the holidays party" It was this past Saturday.

We went and had a good time. I am so bad though because any chance I got I am asking obvious prying questions. But you know what? Kathy needs a hubby and a good one. I almost blew it with the last one and didn't want to mess this up. He needed to be interviewed. I was the one to do it because Jeff and Kathy were silent as we stood there.

Well in there defense Kathy had a Huge headache that she couldn't find relief from no matter what she did so she was doing good to show up. Jeff had been up since 4 that morning on a fishing tournament where he stood on a boat for 8 hours, so he was pooped and his back an knees were hurting him. It was all me and we had to make the right impression. I think we did. Had a great time and scoped him out all together.

He is something else. He looks like someone went back in a time machine and snatched him straight from the 50's. He has a real Buddy Holly feel to him. I love it and so will her super conservative parents. So that was the first check. He has his own home and keeps it spotless. Wood floors , leather couch, everything had it's place. I was totally thinking ok if he isn't gay he is perfect. The food there was amazing, it looked as if my mother had made this elaborate spread of finger foods. So I asked his mother if she made it. Nope, he did. He loves to cook. Is very good at it. That is a good thing as Kathy is a beginner. She only knows what I taught her. I was soo impressed. He also has graduated form Texas A&M university with 2 degrees. Check!

We left fairly early due to the sleepiness of my husband and so I had to wait to see the results of the meeting. This morning Jeff spoke with him and he is interested in taking her on a date! She is interested in dating him! I am so excited and think it is going to be a perfect match. To be seen .

SETTING THE STAGE FOR DISASTER

I have been in pretty good spirits this week. Just ticking along. Weighed this morning and it looks like 75 lbs. I am very excited about this. It is hard to believe though. When I went to look for something in my hall closet and came across a stack of scrubs size 4x and remembering how absolutely miserable I felt in them. I contribute a lot of my weight loss to the change in jobs. I had a high stress job that revolved around everyone eating when there was a spare minute. Those scrubs were in the beginnings of not fitting me anymore when I left there. I was desperate, I knew I would not be able to do "this" there. I keep waiting for someone to pull the rug out from under me. Still very unsure if "this" is the real deal. After all the questioning I usually sit there for a minute and come to the conclusion that "this" is of my making. I made these choices. I made these changes. I allowed myself to be open to it and soon after telling myself this I am up and on my way to live life a few more days without the fear of the "rug puller."

I think I have read my last blog about 5 times and each time I do I get the same feeling. Wow...how real,how true. All of it. It most likely rings so much more true to me than anyone because I was there ...it was me. Young and vulnerable. But was it enough to cause that deep of emotional damage for me to abuse food? I don't know. Yet. Still searching, and you know what? In the end if I come up with nothing , no reason, no light bulb moment. I think I will be ok with that. I just need to do an inventory check to see what's in there that maybe is hiding out too scared to come out.

Like I said before I have been there. I have so been through many things and want to go straight to it, but if I did it would merely be story telling. I am on a hunt for some answers. Let me start today where I left off. I was done with the six grade and obviously feeling the clinch of being an outsider.

I did meet a girl who lived by me in the country. She was super tall for her age and very skinny. We made quite the pair. Laurel and Hardy,if you will. I spent tons of time with her. We were best friends and both so weird in our own ways. She was teased for the exact opposite reason I was. Boy, it is hard to please people.

Going into the 7th grade I will reiiterate that I was already angry and defensive and had a very poor attitude about school. I took most of it out on my teachers. So rude to all of them. Smart mouth all the way. I definately started at that age to struggle with grades and see a decline in my effort. There was none. Nothing going on at home though. No parents fighting or huge drama. I truly think I was just hurt by my weight. I can't really remember anything important about this grade. I was a dork. Oh yeah I do remember Mr. Keil he had a desk in the front of his class that was called the hot seat. If you were bad he would make you sit in it. Well I was bad and had to go sit in the hot seat. Only problem is the desk was about half the size of a regular desk. I already was pushing the limits on a regular desk so trying to squish my body in that little tiny wooden desk was close to impossible. What was I thinking? Could I not control myself for just his class at least just to avoid the freaking hot seat. I was my own worst enemy.Oh, how I remember that desk. Humiliating and only fed the fire I had inside. Ugh!

Moving on, at the end of that year my mom had a party at our house, one of those interior home parties. She invited a bunch of ladies from work and church. All went well. She goes back to work on Monday and one of her coworkers asks her..."Linda, I didn't know Kim is pregnant." Kim is my 16 year old older sister. My mom was like "she's not." Having it on her mind that evening got to looking at her 16 year old and lo and behold she is pregnant...6 MONTHS. Well that was a shock to everyone and it blew everything out of whack for a good while. They had to tend to this and I was left to do mmmm well, whatever.

Looking back now I do see how that changed our entire family forever. We had a baby in the house and she was very pretty. Very spoiled by all who came in touch with her. Her name is Amanda Nichole. I was never jealous, I loved her along with everyone else . I think what happened unintentionally is that I was looked over. I was left to take care of myself. I thought at the time it was all ok. I didn't do a very good job of it. I was still sloppy and not always clean the way I should have been. You couldn't tell I came from an upper middle class family. Nobody at home ever really noticed. My dad was working his tail off commuting to Houston daily and my mother also work fulltime , helped Kim with Amanda doing most everything as I would if my teenager got pregnant. Is there anyone to blame? I don't think so. It is life throwing punches. While some ducked I got hit. It mostly comes down to weight, hygiene and attitude. Those were the things I was lacking in. That was enough to label me in school though.

I am writing about Amanda not really wanting to because I love her and would not want her to think she is the reason I did the things I did. I'm not just fat people. I put my parents through total hell and I will go there when it is time but for today I want to set the stage and let you know why my parents weren't paying close attention to there youngest who was always a good girl. People pleaser from birth. It starts getting bad pretty quick after the 8th grade. In fact that summer was it, the ball was rolling ...

It is Friday and I am going home for the weekend. Have a good one all my friends and followers. I thank you for coming in here to be a part of my personal journey. You are all welcome. Much love. Tune in next week for the next episode of ....just kidding.