dailymemoirstofindingmyinnerself











{December 30, 2010}   My Daughter Loves Me

In the previous post, I wrote and told you for Christmas I received a silver necklace in the mail.  Attached to the necklace was a silver heart and lettering saying #1 Mom with a red rose inside in the heart with the lettering.

I need to say more about this.  My daughter, Taylor Jean, has Aspbergers Syndrome, which is a slight form of autism.  She functions in every day living  and made the JV Cheerleading Squad.  Her favorite subjects are French and Art and she wants to be a Fashion Designer when she grows up.  However the AS makes it so she doesn’t function socially at the level she should.  Thankfully her school has a class for this and it seems to help with her social skills.

As soon as I went to my dads house I had my step mom put the necklace on for me and I haven’t taken it off since and don’t plan on it.  However when it first came in the mail and I read the words #1 Mom I thought how undeserving I was I was of this precious gift.

My Daughter is now 14 and I missed the years of her life from 7 to 13 and 1/2. With the occasional pop in and pop out until I matured enough to know I had to stay clean for a year before coming back into her life.  I will never get those years back, but more importantly when my daughter needed her mommy during those years I wasn’t there.

Sometimes she still calls me mommy, because of her AS but also because there were so many years when she needed to say mommy and couldn’t.  Of my past mistakes, what I did to my children is my biggest regret.  I had them stay with stable family instead of dragging them through my addiction but I wasn’t there for them.

My son who was 3 or 4 when I left doesn’t even remember me.  So I don’t push him to talk to me or write.  I figure when he wants to he will, if he wants to.

I remember the years before my addiction:  a single mom working two jobs  at times, paying a mortgage, with two cars, and going to school full-time for my Masters degree(which I did not finish).  Yet however stressful that life might seem I remember laughing and playing with my kids in the yard and their rooms and the living room.  I remember having them crawl into my bed in the morning to watch tv with me when I just couldn’t quite get up yet.  I remember making ice cream sundaes and dinners in the oven.  I remember reading to them everyday before we left the house and every night before they went to bed.  I read to them before they were even born.  Back then I was #1 mom material.

I am trying my best to be the best mom I can from 10 hours away and after all the lost time, but I wasn’t sure I deserved to be called a #1 mom yet.  I haven’t had enough time to prove myself again to my daughter, however my daughter is quick to forgive and quick to love.

She thinks I would like this necklace and she bought it for me.  I wear it with pride and know that although I’m still proving it to myself, my daughter already accepts me as the #1 mom.  She has a step mom in her life and I know her I met her as a friend before my ex married her and she is a kind woman.  But in my daughters eyes I am #1.

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{December 30, 2010}   Quick Update

To all my concerned readers, thank you for your kind words, but no I have not relapsed.  I just have been doing things where I couldn’t get to a computer.  I am now house sitting.  The dogs and the cat and I are enjoying each other.  Tasia my chihuahua still thinks she runs things even at someone else’s home.  She instigates the much bigger springer spaniel type dog to chase her.  The cat mostly avoids the dogs.

I am right next door to my dads and have been over to visit once briefly since house sitting.  Before that he took the family out for Christmas dinner and then Christmas day I stopped by for a couple of hours.

I have found a new home group.  I cried the last time attended my old home group but I was there for a season and now its time for someone else to take over that group.  I do have a new home group but won’t be attending until I’m, done house sitting as I have no transportation and am now in a different city.

I was able to buy my daughter a Christmas gift this year.  A nice one too. A telescope.  She wasn’t expecting it and she was very happy with my choice for her.  She mailed me a necklace of silver with a heart pendant that says #1 Mom and has a red rose on it.  I couldn’t believe it!! She still thinks of me as a #1 mom, after all the time we’ve been apart and heartache I’m sure I put her through.  I am being consistent with calling her at least once every two weeks, some times more often.

So here is the quick update and you can look for a new substantial post soon



{December 11, 2010}   A Recounting of Near Death

I met a girl in the hallway of an apartment building we were all squatting in.  She was stayin on the second floor and I was stayin on the third.  She’d been there longer. I’d only been around a couple of weeks.  She was lookin for someone to smoke some crack with and invited.  What addict turns down free crack, right? So I followed her to the apartment she was squatting in and smoked some with her and she seemed alright but the crack was gone so I went out to hustle.

Later on that night I ran into her and a trick of hers and her husband and they were all goin back to the part of the building they were staying at and they invited me.  She told her husband she met earlier and I was ok.  Everything went ok earlier, so I went along.  Well, things started to get crazy.  She wanted everyone to take their clothes off and wouldn’t let anyone else smoke any of the crack.  Luckily, I wasn’t dumb enough to take my clothes off before I got any crack and when her husband  me a packed pipe she smacked it out of my mouth across the room saying ” How you gonna offer her to smoke before me.”  Remind you there were four of us in the room and she the only one who had gotten to smoke.  After about 20 minutes, I noticed she’d been drinking and then she got jealous.  She smashed the liquor bottle on the broken out window so the neck was in her hand and the jagged part was being waved around wildly at everyone in the room, but especially me since I was the only other female in the room.

I don’t remember how, my mind still blocks out portions of this night, but I got out of the room.  I went up to the portion where I was staying with a friend cause she didn’t know where my spot was.  After talking with my friend who told my about this building and was sharing this portion of the building of me, he’d been there about a year, he informed he how absolutely insane she was.

That same night I was jonsing so I went out to look for a trick or two to make some money.  Wouldn’t you know it, the crazy lady’s husband had had enough of her to and had gotten a HHR vehichle from his cousin.  He saw me as I was coming back into the parking lot after striking out on the hoe stroll.  He rolled down the window and said “Jump in, before she sees you.”  He had crack earlier so I figured he had some again.

He drove me across town to a city park in the back.  It was about 11pm and dark and no one else was around and I was used to going to parks to trick for crack but not this one.  When we got out of the car we went to a picnic table and he packed a stem for me.  Then he said he wanted a blow job. 

This is where some parts are extremely clearly etched in memory and some are extremely erased from my memory so sorry if this recounting goes kinda fuzzy. 

He grabbed me by my neck and said ” Do it right.  Don’t play that hoe shit, and try to do it quick.”  For about the next forty-five minutes I was told the following statements over and over.  “Were alone here no one would find you until the morning.”  “I should snap your neck right now.”as her would pull my hair forcing my head from side to side. I thought for sure tonight was the night I would finally die.  “Do it right.”  “Quit playing those ho games, you’re not gonna get this done quickly.”  Eventually I knocked his crack over, which ended up being benzo anyway, so he forced me onto the ground and with his knees on my shoulders he got my pants down.

Then he grabbed my neck again and raped me.  Then He got me back into the car.  I thought it was over but it wasn’t.  He made a call and said “Are you ready? I got one.”  He told me he was taking me to his friends so they could rape me too and then he and his wife were going to beat the shit out of me and that they did this type of thing all the time.  He actually he referred to himself and his wife as Bonnie and Clyde.

So I thought fast, luckily it was benzo and not crack, so I wasn’t totally stuck.  When he turned to pull out of the city park, in the middle of the turn I flung open the car door and jumped out.  I remember hearing him say “Don’t do that.”

I ran down a busy street in the opposite direction of the way the car was facing so he couldn’t follow me and had no choice except to drive away.  Which he did. Fast.  I was running wildly down the middle of a busy road my arms waving back and forth over my head yelling “Please Help Me Please Help Me.”

I think it was 4 or 5 cars that passed me before someone actually stopped.  It was a group of 3 yuppie boys goin to a club.  They were concerned and asked what I needed.  I told them I’d been raped and needed to go home.  They tried to talk me into goin to the hospital, they were all confused they didn’t know what to do and I kept saying no just take me home.  I actually went to a different spot and told them that was my home.

After they drove off, I hitchhiked from near Detroit to Flint to see the only person I thought would understand.  A man I met in recovery and was in love with.  His mom didn’t know what was going on and wanted me to take a shower before his daughter came down for breakfast.(Yeah, he still lived with his mom who has custody of his daughter, but that’s another story.)

Anyway, since we were previously involved his mother knew my family and within a few hours she got a version of what happened by my simply saying “I was raped and needed to see C.”  She drove me home to my dad who wanted nothing to do with me since I’d been back out on the streets for awhile, again.  However he did say I needed to file a police report.

I didn’t want to go through that either but finally after an hour of coaxing which seemed liked days as I still wasn’t high and that was the whole purpose of mission that started the night before, I allowed Miss Barbara to take me to the police station.

I tried to write a report as well as I could but I was forgetting to how to spell, I still hadn’t slept, and I hadn’t slept for a few days previously because I’d been smoking.  I had no home address or phone number and it took awhile and I went through the rape kit and everything.  When I was done, the officer called my dad to come pick me up.  He wouldn’t come.  I can remember hearing the officer say”But she’s your daughter.” It didn’t matter.

I ended up sleeping in the police station waiting room sitting in a chair with my head on a table. I woke up in the morning and realized no one was coming for me and I had nowhere to go.  I couldn’t go back to where I was squatting because I had given a good description of the man and where to find him and I saw a xerox picture of him at one point during the night so I know the police had picked him up.

My feet were blistered and aching because when I was hitchhiking I ended up walking half the way.  I did not know what to do I was lost.  I sat on the sidewalk outside of the police station with my head on my knees trying to figure what and where to go and do next.  Then the owner of a three quarter house I had stayed at before showed up.

My dad had called her and told her where I was and she came and got me.  Again, I reentered a three quarter house.

I don’t want to put a moral or some astounding truth to this story I just want to present the facts about this situation.  I need to realize the decisions I make when I use drugs put me in these types of situations and I need to address them in order to heal from them.




I have to vent today.  I went to my home group last naight and my old behavior patterns almost reared their ugly head.  If this would have happened, I could quite possibly be sitting in jail today, instead of enjoying a glass of papaya juice and my freedom.

Just because I go to meetings, I need to remember not everyone is there for the same reasons I am.  There is one girl in particular whom I have a personality conflict  with and tries to push my buttons every chance she gets.  Usually I let what she does or says go in one ear and out the other but yesterday I almost unleashed hell on her.

My home group was a meeting that was in danger of closing down.  For two years one other man and myself were the only home group members that showed up on a regular basis.  When he turned the responsibility of running the meeting over to me I made some improvements.  I announced the meeting everywhere and asked for trusted servants to help, since at the time I was holding all the trusted servant positions because there was no one else.  The other man had stopped coming.

This meeting has grown and we now normally have an attendance of approxiamately 15-20 people.  We have a chairperson, coffeemaker, secretary, gsr(me), co-gsr and treasurer.  Our chairperson is having relations with our treasurer which does not effect me but when it affects the group I feel I need to stand up to her, and of course, this is the woman I have personality issues with and she with me.

Again, our treasurer did not show up at the business meeting when he knew we needed funds to be given out to donate to area.  We are planning at the next business meeting to elect a co-treasurer, because this is unacceptable.

However, back to last night, at the end of the meeting the chairperson was asked to double count the seventh tradition collection.  She did not count it but instead put it in her pocket. We told her since the treasurer wasn’t there we were going to lock the money up like we used to do when I was treasurer.

She said no call me later this week.  Now, she has no right or ground to stand on when it comes to our seventh tradition maoney even if she is screwing the treasurer.  I was ready to have a major conforntration along with the coffeemaker and co-gsr telling her she had no right to take our seventh tradition money and put it in her pocket.  She after the meeting said the treasurer told her to pick the money up for him.

The other home group members and myself have decided when he shows up next week to say nothing personal but we wan to see the book and the actual money.  We are going to vote in a co-treasurer and vote that the money start being locked up again and not taken home.  We have seen this man take money out of his pocket to pay for items where normally our seventh tradition money is kept in a sock.

He also joined the the home group the same day he said he wanted to become treasurer.  Frustration from these two is becoming unbearable.  I was ready to physically take this money out of this womans pocket and give it back to the home group, not because I don’t especially like her, but because what she was doing was wrong for the home group.

After cultivating this almost dying meeting of 2 members to a better attended meeting with trusted servants I am upset when I see something that I believe could ruin all the work members have put into this group and run it into the ground.

However, if I would have resorrted to my previous behavior patterns I would have been no better than her.  So the other home group members and myself came up with a plan that follows the rules laid out in the group booklet.

Her need to always be in control is running other potential home group members away from joining and it breaks my heart.  Don’t get me wrong, I am not saying I am perfect and never make mistakes but she is ridiculous.

I feel better getting this out and will feel much better when we elect a co-treasurer and start locking the money up again.  We also decided not to ever let her double count the money, if this is the kind of stunt she is going to pull.  The money that was collected could have been our area donation that we could not get because her boyfriend our treasurer did not show up, but she wouldn’t hear of that either.



{December 4, 2010}   No Money Yet I have Presence

It’s the day after my my disability payment and I am broke.  However, my rent is paid.  My water bill, light bill, cable, bill, internet bill, phone bill, paid, paid, paid, paid, and paid.  I have bought my monthly supplies for December and was able to get a couple extra treats and toys for Tasia.  I did not owe any or all of my check to the dope man for credit or juice on a bill. 

I may not be able to buy any other presents for people this year except my dad and step-mom which I’ve been on a payment plan for 3 months, yet I do have a present for everyone, society included.  I have my presence.  My presence in a clear mind and well-being is a present to all.  I am no longer begging, pan-handling, prostituting, stealing, or using drugs.  I am no longer creating fire hazards by squatting in abandonded buildings trying to stay warm.  My family and true friends do not have to worry and pray everytime they hear a siren that I am either in trouble or dead. 

In regards to society, I am paying my bills.  I find that it is important to me to pay the entire amount of each bill that comes due, so I don’t extra money just because I did not want to pay the full bill.  That is a dope fiend mentality for me.  What would I be holding onto that extra money for? A rservation? If I am skimping on my bills, that means I am living the way I used to when I was using.  Trying to rob Peter to pay Paul.  Trying to only pay $20 of a $50 charge so I would have $30 for my addiction.

Today, I take care of my bills when they are due in the full amount.  It may mean I am broke the rest of the month, but my needs are met and I do not have to worry about my heat or lights or phone or internet being shut off.  I do not have to worry about eviction notices or where I am going to go to be safe.  It is cold here in Michigan.  There is already snow on the ground and the forceful whipping wind is no joke.  I remember looking to get picked up for a trick not just to make some money to get high but to havea chance to be out of the cold.  Here I sit, in my new robe, I got for my birthday, comfortable and cozy.  I did not make sure the tags were still on it or say it didn’t fit and ask for the receipt so I could return my birthday gifts for crack money.  And I won’t be returning my xmas presents either. 

i am slowly regaining my possessions and I am too tired to start all over again for the umpteenth time.I no longer wonder if I will be getting electronic devices so I can pawn them or sell them to the dopeman.  I am proud of my humble home and it’s meager yet comfortable and growing furnishings.  I have earned eveything in my household.

Another addict who just came back from a relapse was in my home in the other day and said they have been in their new home for about 2 months.  I have been here 3.  then she had the audacity to say “I am looking around to see what I can take for my house.”  With this type of attitude, i fear she is still in a drug user mentatlity and may be on her way back to relapse.  How do you go into someone else’s home and say I want to look around and see what I can take for my house.  I have worked for and earned every item in my household and I am not giving stuff to the dope man so why would I allow you to just up and take some of my belongings.  I almost asked her to leave, but her daughter was with her and for her sake I bit my tongue.  However, she will not be invited into my home again.

I have the presence of mind not to think like a drug addict anymore, most of the time.  Iam proud of the woman I am becoming and as i said my present this year is going to be presence.  I am going to be able to show up and be there.




This morning I received an interesting phone call.  It was from my dad’s neighbor.  She and her husband are going on a trip to Florida after Xmas until January 11.  They have two pets at home and she loves them dearly.  She knows how I feel about Tasia and asked me if I would bring Tasia over to their house, while they were gone and pet and house sit.

What? Me? Are you sure you called the right person?  This time two years ago, I would’ve cleaned you out and sold everything you owned including the house to the dope man.  Yet today is a new day.  Some one sees my life changing and the change in me.

I accepted her request and of course I will get paid for my time, not much, but some of something is better than none of nothing.  I have already spoken to my dad and asked if it would be alright if I occasionally came over for dinner, seeing as I will be right next door and he said ok.

So this makes me feel good. I can be trusted today and someone who needs help can reach out to me.  My life is changing for the better and others are noticing. This is reassuring to me.



{November 29, 2010}   Remants of an Almost Celebration

The past couple of days have centered around my bellybutton birthday which is actually today.  I had my slumber party for recovering women and of the twenty women I invited only 2 showed. At first, I was disappointed and deflated.  I had better turn outs to parties I threw when I was using. However, sometime halfway through the night my Higher Power spoke to me and said the people that needed to be there were there. One of them being a sponsee fresh in recovery who gets her second 30 days today.

The main objective was not to celebrate my bday but to put women together so we could bond and uild friendships outside of meetings and show that we can have fun in recovery.  If I can’t enjoy myself in recovery, I will get to thinking what’s the point of it all anyway. We did accomplish this tho. We did make-overrs, watched movies, worked on an activity including scissors magazines and glue, and had so much food we thought we would bust.

I spent most of yesterday sleeping and recovering from the midnight talks and giggles.  I then made it to my home group and had a great meeting. I was able to share the excess red velvet cake with cream cheese frosting that the night before was set ablaze with 39 candles. We took tons of pictures then of the cke and the women in attendance at the celebration. It went fast at the meeting as cake normally does but it was a different flavor than normal so peole even took some home with them.

I came to the realization that I can not be the one to make people participate in recovery-type atmospheres outside of meetings if they are not willing. That was kinda hurtful to me, because I want to be the one with big S on my chest.  Yet, how can I  be that person when I still struggle myself. 

Today is the family celebration. Can you believe it?  My famy has actually invited me into their home for a dinner in my honor.  I still can never ask to spend the night there no matter what happens to me as I learned after one of my past rapes, yet they are inviting me into their home of their own free-will. Amazing things happen to me when I stop getting high.

I would like to post a picture of Tasia to my blog, if any of my readers know how to do this please let  me know. I already sent the pic from my phone to my email but I don’t know the next steps. Any information would be greatly appreciated.

I am thinking back to when I got high and I would call this my birthweek. This was so I could scam, and beg for xtra crack to extend my high or ask for reduced rates.  Today, I don’t have to worry about such things or even about where I am going to be. I have a home where Ican invite others over and my family is starting to relate better with me and allow me into their home.

So Happy Birthday to me. It is going to be a sober day and I will be able to remember every moment of it. I thank my Higher Power for helping me to remember I have a choice today and with his help I choose not to get high today.



{November 26, 2010}   New Day. . .New Opportunity to Feel

Well, yesterday is over and not to soon. I am glad to have a non-holiday today where expectations are not set or not met.  My problem with relationships seems to be the proverbial unrealistic expectations.  Both of others and myself. Today I go to another of my numerous doctors appointments, this one dealing with my chronic pain.  It’s amazing how are bodies have disease and pain and we don’t notice until we get clean. Our bodies numbed we didn’t notice what our bodies were going thru.  Then once we get clean, hopefully and luckily for me disease free the pains come to the surface.  Anyway I digress. Today I am going to allow myself to feel anything that happens to me good or bad and know that my Higher Power has my back.  My Higher Power saw me through guns pointed at my head, numerous rapes and innumerable life-threatening life situations, so today should be a breeze as long as I remember to rely on my High Power.  The opportunity to feel can be frightening yet it can also be an adventure or journey.  Allowing myself to undergo the emotional changes that will fill my day and not use behind them is a blessing. Thesef eelings are going to be further expolred after my doctors appointment as I am forcing myself to relive an experience from my past on my other blog www.anaddictsinnerself.blogspot.com after my doctors appointment. I need to build myself up for this. As a side note, those who follow this blog would also benefit from following the other one as I post to both of them regularly and although it’s the same subject matter its differemnt articles and you will get the full effect of my story if you read them both. I am excited about the interest I have received so far about my blogs I even have a reader from Bulgaria which proves addiction has no discrimination.  Anyway, I am taking Tasia to my doctors appt. I tend to take her everywhere I can.  She is more of a therapy dog even tho she has not been trained in that capacity.  She keeps me grounded and often offsets on-coming panic attacks as I still don’t always know how to deal with non-addicts in everyday life.  Today is going to be a day of freedom, a normal day where I will experience normal feelings but not in an ordinary way. I don’t think I will ever feel normal or normally again, I struggle and  try and still I am just me, trying to recover and live a somewhat normal life-far from the chaos I have endured.




I couldn’t figure out why I couldn’t get in the spirit today. I wanted to wallow in self-pity and be grateful for what I had but complain about what I didn’t. Then. BLAM BLAM It hit me. Where’s your spirituality? I am not a Jesus freak as a matter of fact I don’t even tell anyone who my Higher Power is , as seems to be the custom in these parts. But I’m working a program based on piritual principles and I totally ignored them today until after I talked with my daughter at 9pm. Iwasted a whole day because I wasn’t practing spirituality. I could have meditated, I could have reached out to another addict in the same situation or worse, I could have done a million spiritual things…but I forgot.Simple mistake but with drastic consequences. Well, at least I’m making new mistakes. Tomorrow is another day day and I won’t be starting  over from day 1 again. I only had one time period of fleeting thought of using today and it was because I was feeling pain and I longed for the numbeness but then Iremembered the 2 things I don’t want. the lifestyle and the consequences So tonight I am going to bed happier than I’ve been all day and with a fresh start tommorrow, I’ll enjoy my day more because now I will remember to be spiritual because I don’t like the person I become when I’m not. Good-night



{November 25, 2010}   Sober and Ostracized

As I receive the many texts from well-wishers, I sit on my self-imposed pity pot. And why not? I am doing all the things I am supposed to be doing, not picking up, going to meetings, working on my steps, helping sponsees, doing servicework, being a responsible member of society, and being kind to my loving pet and best friend. (who currently is freakin out about the smoke detectors going off, cuz I burnt some of my thanksgiving cooking,and it’s too high on the wall to reach the button), Yet, still here I sit on a day of thankfulness when everyone enjoys family company and I am still not invited to my dad’s wife side of the family because I’m a crackhead and that’s all I’ll ever be to them no matter what I accomplish, in my personal or professional life.  I sit alone again like I have swo many holidays before the difference is I don’t have the drugs to cover up the pain. This year I have to accept it and feel the brutual pain of not being wanted at family functions.  Still, my dad is making an effort, after the family function they will stop-by my house to say hi. Yippee!! Like it’s an obligation and not a wanted event.  So I sit with my computer still in my pajamas cuz there’s noone to dress up for yest. I am cooking only green bean casserole as my food stamps are almost out for the month and it’s the only holiday dish I make people look forward to cuz I add bacon and cream cheese.This also means by the time my dad gets her he will be wasted. I was hoping they would stop here first but beggars can’t be choosers. He knows no alcohol or drugs are allowed in my home yet he will find a way to bring his drink already poured into the house.  I will have to withstand his emotional scoldings, yeah, I can hardly wait.  The drunker he gets the more real the past becomes for him and my failures exponetential.  I am thankful I am sober and clean yet I long for the numbeness of pain, and being alone.I think of all my friends who have families that still accept them and envy them.  Everyone seems to think as long as she has cigarettes and pop shes fine but what about human contact. What about having a conversation and being able to watch the football game with someone?So we can argue over referee calls and complain when the Detroit Lions(I’m in Michigan) once again screw up a game they should have had in the bag? Tasia listens but has no idea about what I’m saying unless it concerns food or her boundaries when were outside or when it’s treat time.I think of my readers and the other blog writrs I subscribe to and know you all will most likely be enjoying family and yet here I sit on my pity pot in front of my screen.  Writing to you all helps me feel not so alone but it’s thru technology that we are communicating, so even though you’re in my living room, you’re not in my living room.The marathon meetings in my are a distance from my home and with no transportation it’s not likely I will make it there.  I haben’t resorted tocrying yet and that’s good cuz once I start it’s almost impossible to stop niagara falls.My gratitude is lacking on the day I am supposed to have it the most, as always my life is an oxymoron.



et cetera