A Page From My Book
The title is self explanatory, this is a page from my book. My life has been the biggest roller coaster ride I have ever been on, thinking I could race through it like NASCAR. As I grew older, I grew wiser, cautious and responsible. I left the party life in 2013, only slipping back for an appearance. I came far in my life, trying to fix my future because of past mistakes. So I thought why not, let's tell a few pages. The past is the past, you are in charge of future.
Let's go back to 2009, when I graduated high school. I had self image issues because of this cretin that I thought was something special. If something special was a fuck boy... When I moved to go to college, I was so ready to experience my life; rushing to run from the north. I knew I was a southern girl at heart, I loved the humbleness and hospitality the south had to offer. I was truly overly excited, but all the negative in my life. I wasn't ready, my crippling depression just years from exploding. I came home after a semester, not just because of an incident but also because I was too poor to afford to continue. I blamed my mother for years, if only always left my mouth. If only she helped when I asked, if only I had the money. If only wasn't going to help, I needed to grow up a little more. When you're young you think everything is everyone's fault, holding yourself accountable comes with maturity. Fast forward two years and I am a raging alcoholic and addict. Chasing the inevitable, chasing the high I was never going to get again. I met my first Dom, I made my first mistake of thinking he loved me. When he just loved what I could offer outside of the bedroom. My body with no scars but my mind had them all. I tried to kill myself, I tried taking my own life because of what someone else said to me. I thought I was worthless, hopeless, nothing. The tears coming to my eyes, but strength comes with age. My own selfish reasoning for my attempt, all I could think "They will be better off without me." Who? My mother would've been devastated, my brother; I doubt he'd be the man he is today. I am happy, I failed. The one and only thing I've ever failed at. My alcoholism controlled my life for years to come, collecting a DUI on the way. If there is anything I've regretted it's that, I put myself and others in danger. I could've killed someone and thank God everyday I didn't. By the summer of 2012, I had most life experiences people couldn't even fathom. At least not 75% of the kids I went to high school with. I had made the majority about sex, drugs and alcohol. It was all a blur until I got sober. When I was forced to go to rehab for smoking weed, yeah weed. I still will never understand that, but I was a closet alcoholic. The only ones that knew I had a problem were my family and close friends. My family didn't do much but judge me. My only family members to not judge me were my family in the south and my mother. Even then my mother would make me feel bad for going out any chance she got. She had every right, I was still causing trouble for myself. The alcohol gave me the confidence to breeze through my life drunk majority of the time. It gave me confidence period, with guys, with my weight, with my mom and family. When I went to rehab, I heard so many terrible stories; it scared me. It scared me to think I'd be a 40 year old drunk, showing up to meetings at work; drunk out of my mind. I didn't want that life for myself or my future. I wouldn't want my kids to grow up in a home I knew nothing of. But I also don't want my kids growing up with the trauma I endured either but that's a whole other story and a family secret.
By the time I was 26, I had been raped, arrested several times and was a recovering drug addict. If I drink now, I count my beers and shots and calculate all that bullshit per hour shit. It's to the point that I drink occasionally. A 12 pack lasts me a few weeks now instead of hours, well unless my best friend comes over and that's a whole other story we won't even get into. Did you notice how I just flowed over my rape? That's because I blame myself, my drunken pathetic self. There's nothing I can do about it now, except be stronger than it. Be a survivor. Sometimes I thank God I was so drunk, that only flash backs come every so often. The fact that it was someone I trusted, someone I'd known for years. That killed me, the only reason I ever found out about it is because he bragged to me about it. I never talked to him again until 4 years ago I saw him walking in a gas station. I slunk down in my ex friends car and cried. Secretly cried, secretly felt dirty, secretly felt suicidal all over again. Now, I talk about it, write about it, cry about it. Your soul needs cleansing, cleanse it. I know I need to forgive myself but that's going to take some time and that's okay. I'm okay with it.
Now at 29, I have my own place, an amazing boyfriend and self love. When I realized that I was beautiful inside and out. I stopped caring what strangers said to me. Family, family hits different; they are supposed to cheer you on no matter what. Unfortunately, I have family that run their mouths to run it. One thing I don't and will not tolerate is negative comments about someone's weight. Ever. That's just not something you need to comment on. I know I am "fat" no need for you to inform me when I tell myself in the mirror everyday "We are going to work at this" or "You got this" Confidence is key for anything but to have enough to brush the haters can be difficult sometimes. I always catch myself thinking about the underline reasoning and the only conclusion I can come up with? They don't like themselves, they don't like what they see in the mirror. Well sorry to rain on y'alls parade but I love myself more than I love you. Took me years to finally love myself again and I am sure that didn't help my 200 pound weight gain and the medications I was on. People are so quick to judge when they don't really know the story. So the point? The point is never judge a book by it's cover, because you never know what you're going to get.
Let's go back to 2009, when I graduated high school. I had self image issues because of this cretin that I thought was something special. If something special was a fuck boy... When I moved to go to college, I was so ready to experience my life; rushing to run from the north. I knew I was a southern girl at heart, I loved the humbleness and hospitality the south had to offer. I was truly overly excited, but all the negative in my life. I wasn't ready, my crippling depression just years from exploding. I came home after a semester, not just because of an incident but also because I was too poor to afford to continue. I blamed my mother for years, if only always left my mouth. If only she helped when I asked, if only I had the money. If only wasn't going to help, I needed to grow up a little more. When you're young you think everything is everyone's fault, holding yourself accountable comes with maturity. Fast forward two years and I am a raging alcoholic and addict. Chasing the inevitable, chasing the high I was never going to get again. I met my first Dom, I made my first mistake of thinking he loved me. When he just loved what I could offer outside of the bedroom. My body with no scars but my mind had them all. I tried to kill myself, I tried taking my own life because of what someone else said to me. I thought I was worthless, hopeless, nothing. The tears coming to my eyes, but strength comes with age. My own selfish reasoning for my attempt, all I could think "They will be better off without me." Who? My mother would've been devastated, my brother; I doubt he'd be the man he is today. I am happy, I failed. The one and only thing I've ever failed at. My alcoholism controlled my life for years to come, collecting a DUI on the way. If there is anything I've regretted it's that, I put myself and others in danger. I could've killed someone and thank God everyday I didn't. By the summer of 2012, I had most life experiences people couldn't even fathom. At least not 75% of the kids I went to high school with. I had made the majority about sex, drugs and alcohol. It was all a blur until I got sober. When I was forced to go to rehab for smoking weed, yeah weed. I still will never understand that, but I was a closet alcoholic. The only ones that knew I had a problem were my family and close friends. My family didn't do much but judge me. My only family members to not judge me were my family in the south and my mother. Even then my mother would make me feel bad for going out any chance she got. She had every right, I was still causing trouble for myself. The alcohol gave me the confidence to breeze through my life drunk majority of the time. It gave me confidence period, with guys, with my weight, with my mom and family. When I went to rehab, I heard so many terrible stories; it scared me. It scared me to think I'd be a 40 year old drunk, showing up to meetings at work; drunk out of my mind. I didn't want that life for myself or my future. I wouldn't want my kids to grow up in a home I knew nothing of. But I also don't want my kids growing up with the trauma I endured either but that's a whole other story and a family secret.
By the time I was 26, I had been raped, arrested several times and was a recovering drug addict. If I drink now, I count my beers and shots and calculate all that bullshit per hour shit. It's to the point that I drink occasionally. A 12 pack lasts me a few weeks now instead of hours, well unless my best friend comes over and that's a whole other story we won't even get into. Did you notice how I just flowed over my rape? That's because I blame myself, my drunken pathetic self. There's nothing I can do about it now, except be stronger than it. Be a survivor. Sometimes I thank God I was so drunk, that only flash backs come every so often. The fact that it was someone I trusted, someone I'd known for years. That killed me, the only reason I ever found out about it is because he bragged to me about it. I never talked to him again until 4 years ago I saw him walking in a gas station. I slunk down in my ex friends car and cried. Secretly cried, secretly felt dirty, secretly felt suicidal all over again. Now, I talk about it, write about it, cry about it. Your soul needs cleansing, cleanse it. I know I need to forgive myself but that's going to take some time and that's okay. I'm okay with it.
Now at 29, I have my own place, an amazing boyfriend and self love. When I realized that I was beautiful inside and out. I stopped caring what strangers said to me. Family, family hits different; they are supposed to cheer you on no matter what. Unfortunately, I have family that run their mouths to run it. One thing I don't and will not tolerate is negative comments about someone's weight. Ever. That's just not something you need to comment on. I know I am "fat" no need for you to inform me when I tell myself in the mirror everyday "We are going to work at this" or "You got this" Confidence is key for anything but to have enough to brush the haters can be difficult sometimes. I always catch myself thinking about the underline reasoning and the only conclusion I can come up with? They don't like themselves, they don't like what they see in the mirror. Well sorry to rain on y'alls parade but I love myself more than I love you. Took me years to finally love myself again and I am sure that didn't help my 200 pound weight gain and the medications I was on. People are so quick to judge when they don't really know the story. So the point? The point is never judge a book by it's cover, because you never know what you're going to get.
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