Addictionland - Addiction Recover Blog
Hello, when I left off on the Web address I had discovered that I was pregnant for the second time. My baby's daddy had been forced to leave his job at a major liquor store chain because his hand would hurt unbearably when he had to work in the cooler. So we began selling meth, P2P to just get by. I knew that we weren't living a child friendly environment. I told him that I was barely able to deal with our lively, beautiful 1yr old son. So, and this is hard to admit, I asked him if I could have an abortion. He was dead set against it. But he said if I could afford one then it would be on my head. So I had no access to any money which landed me on my Daddy's doorstep. Like my husband he was against it but I became frantic telling him that I would never be able to be the parent that my children would deserved. He finally got me to calm down but still I wept and begged him for the money. He finally said he would tell my Mama about the situation and my fears, but he made no promises. As good as his word, he went to my Mama. Who without hesitation told him that she wouldn't even discuss my situation. That if he gave me one thin dime towards my choice she would throw everything he owned in the front yard and set fire to it and furthermore he'd never set foot in his house again.....ever, nor would I. So the die was cast and before you could blink an eye, I was 6 months along. At that point I had fearfully accepted the obvious. We were still selling dope at the time. I wasn't using which made me have a very low tolerance for the b.s. and the addicts and their lies that they told just to get some for free. So when my husband would have his fill of people owing us money, he would put a bounty on their head to be paid to anybody that could get the debtor to our house. I was all about the money too and would grab my 9mm and go and make house calls. I was collecting money up until my baby girl was born. Believe me when I say the last thing the people who owed wanted to see was an enormous pregnant lady with her gun drawn looking to collect our money, something worth the money, or to make them get in our car, and drive to face the beast that I was married to and face a minimum of a sound pistol whipping, or a black mag flashlight beating. One especially slippery fellow who would never leave his mother's house required a little out smarting. One bright sunny day I drove down his mother's street and pulled over, got out especially largely pregnant and put the hood up. It took him about thirty minutes to work up his nerve to come out to see if he could score some Brownie points with the reaper. When he bent over my engine I pressed my 9mm into his side. I calmly told him we were going to my house and see the boss OR I would blow a hole in him that he'd never survive. He asked if he could go tell his girlfriend. So silly. I said he would have plenty of time to spend with her if he survived. But it's bedtime for Grandma now. Talk to you later. Goodnight.
Because I'm technologically challenged. In order to find the complete page of my blog My Boots Didn't Come With Straps you can go to my home page and find it at the bottom of the lists. It's the one at the bottom of the list beneath the one that says something about groups. The one at the top needs to be deleted. If you know how to do it please message me. I'm trying to make it easier to find. The things that make me cringe and wince are the people that I helped do their first shot. That weighs on me. We had no real concept of the carnage we we're pulling them into or that it would probably be life changing for anyone with an addictive personality. I didn't do it for long because it quickly became obvious that we had created monsters. Hungry monsters. While there's no way to sugar coat what we we're doing, nor make it anything but what it was. However we did have rules. Like absolutely no stolen property of any kind. If they couldn't write out a receipt with their name on it then they needn't even ask. This policy saved us one time because the guy who traded the motor and then went and turned us in for having it. For whatever crazy reason he didn't even think about the bill of sale he had been required to sign. The law showed up intending to ransack our duplex but that receipt kept them from entering the house. My husband and I weren't even there when it happened. We were in Baylor hospital in Dallas waiting to see if he would live or die. His "yard dogs" (who we're actually pretty good people and helped out around the house, and we're fiercely loyal) we're taking care of things while we we're away.. But we wouldn't trade for food stamps, because some child needed to eat off those and it's criminal, the exchange rate, 50¢ on the $1. That's insane to me. Why would anyone take that kind of offer? But they wouldn't buy anything at our house. Also there was a curfew. Anybody in the house at 10:00 wasn't allowed to leave til morning, and we shut everything down at 10:00 until daylight. We had papered our windows then foiled them all so our house was pitch black if someone drove by. Another rule was if your utilities we're cut off and you had children then your money wouldn't buy a thing and that came with a stern lecture about priorities. No stolen guns. Bill of sale or no sale. The only exception to all the rules was if it was the hookup pulling in at 1:00am, AK with a banana clip slung over his shoulder. He met with us quite by accident. He had been at the Zoo (which was another meth refueling station, but was run much more wildly than our house) and when he was leaving the boss there asked him to take a guy that was driving everybody crazy with him and put him out at a convenience store or anywhere but there. The crazy guy asked the hookup to bring him to our house. It was about 8:30am on a Sunday morning in a quiet neighborhood and I hear a knock on the door so I waddle to the door and look out the peep hole and much to my horror a guy strapped who bore a striking resemblance to Charles Mansion was on my doorstep. I hurriedly opened the door and pulled them both into the house. He didn't introduce himself but we knew who he was. So we invited him to come and sit down and hang awhile. He and my husband hit it off immediately. He quickly became a regular at our house. Ultimately taking my husband with him to score. That's when things began to get more serious, because I didn't want to raise kids in a dope house. Their Daddy felt the same way, but when he got hurt at a construction job he got injured and couldn't do the job that he'd been doing for years, even had his own crew. We just never seemed to get to a stopping spot. Well it's really late. I couldn't sleep because one of my night drugs wasn't even in with the rest so I tried and tried to sleep. I took some more medicine and I can feel it beginning to work. Maybe now I can sleep. I'm an insomniac and my brain won't shut off at bedtime unless I have meds. But I have the music that plays very often in my head. It's like hearing a radio station that needs tuning in a bit. I can tell you the song that's playing, and can even sing along. It's louder when I'm driving and at night. I've been hearing it for 30 years. By now it's nothing at all to try to stop. It's harmless enough, I dislike hearing voices, they're more disturbing. Especially when I'm the object of discussion. I sleep with a You Tube playlist all night cuz I sleep with my 7 yr old granddaughter. So I pull the covers up over my head and sleep like that. I've got to stop the keys are blurry. Goodnight. Thanks for your time.
This is the actual beginning of my experience with method and it's worth a look.
I may have to stop blogging about my life. I am concerned that I have embarrassed some people. That was the fartherest thing from mind. I profoundly apologize if I've upset anyone. I'm so troubled. If I had written a book, instead of blogging, it would contain the same content that is on my blog. This isnt a story that I'm making up for entertainment purposes. This is MY LIFE and it did get very dirty, dangerous, harmful, and ugly. The question of the possibility that the people in our legal system might choose to take action on me despite the fact that I do not live that lifestyle anymore. I suppose I'll try to contact an attorney to see what the prudent thing to do is. If anyone reading this knows anything about this question of legality please message me. Also if my blog has touched you, or made you thankful for the life you have today. I'm feeling the heat of censorship. Is anyone out there that wants me to continue my story please let me kmow. Again, I didnt mean to embarrass anyone nor worry anyone with the hell that I've seen. I'm not even going to include the story of one of my marriages that was violent and abusive in some very personal ways and also in the textbook punch you in the face, chest, and choke you out til your larynx swells shut afterward from the pressure and you can barely breath. Or sporting huge Jackie Onasis sunglasses to cover your eye. There's more but its not relevant to my tale of drug addiction and mental illness. My sister says I have no filter. This is probably true. I think it and I say, do, or write it. I will bend to the feelings of others if all its doing is airing my dirty laundry. That's not my goal. I so wanted to encourage anyone who is, or knows someone who is fighting the fight. I could go back and delete the post that I accidently podted on my Facebook page and then I'm wakened by the phone and told to get it off. So I did. But if I delete one then I'll have to delete another and so on. I've not mentioned any names and if you are someone who knows enough about me to know who's who. I beseech you to leave the people in my story alone. This is my story. They have all LONG since distanced themselves from all types of any type of living outside the law. Now are just living quiet lives, spending their time puttering around, appreciating their lives harming no one, obeying ALL the laws and are a credit to society. But if I'm asked to shut it down by one person in particular, then my story of battling addiction while battling mental illness will be quietly shelved unless someone comes to me presonally and wants to discuss thst lifestyle. It is so hard to relive parts of my life, and I certainly dont want to end up locked up in some mental facility away from my family. I didnt mean to hurt anyone. Please let me know if I'm doing this for nothing and embarrassing people unnecessarily. I'm deeply troubled. Thanks for your time.