When I Grow Up part 1

By: F-Mombie

 I’m trying to figure this all out. What am I going to be when I grow up?
I’ve been so many things in these 33 years . I’ve been a baby who needed to be constantly held and taken care of, I didn’t do much besides sleep, eat, cry, repeat. That lasted a short while.
Then I was a toddler, needing to be taught. Craving constant attention and always so curious. I began by crawling, then talking, walking, all the good stuff.
After that I was a kid. First I stayed home with mom and learned some more. I colored, and played out scenes with Barbie’s dolls and sculpted play doh. Soon enough, still a kid, I went to school and learned to spell and write for many many years as a kid. Throughout my teenage years, I was still considered a kid. I did more though. I was much much more dependent, and no longer needed constant attention as I had for many years before.
Eventually , I was a driver. It wasn’t my job, but I did it like it was.
My first real job and my first real relationship happened simultaneously. My first job was at my local mall. I was an Ice cream Scooper at Friendly’s. I was 15. My first real boyfriend was my “friends” bf first & I really wasn’t even interested and he really wanted her to go away.

Next I was 17,and I was a coffee maker. I got a job at a nearby Dunkin’ Donuts , and worked my way to shift leader. I wasn’t sure if I liked the fit. I wasn’t sure I liked my position, on the other side of the counter, dealing so directly with the public at such a fast pace. Handling their money, and their liquid Gold. I did not know the importance of caffeine to a person at that time. I did not know that I was directly making and providing people with the actual thing that keeps / gets them going.
At 15/16, I wasn’t sure of anything quite yet, so anytime a friend needed a job, I without a doubt got them one.
I had no idea the kind of trouble it was going to get me intomore than once.
I was now a high school graduate and practically a housewife.
2 years into working behind the counter, handing people their fuel, their liquid gold, I became a teen mom. My body was trying to become a mother .
For a period of time and Simultaneously with the fore mentioned, I was a thief. Not a real thief, I wouldn’t even say it, but I mean, I stole by allowing my school friend employees to tempt and teach me with the help of my “friends”.
To “under-ring”; a thing I literally could not understand. I personally couldn’t wrap my brain around the how. So, I let helped them do it, and was rewarded with half at the end of those shifts, at my first 2 jobs.
I became an accused. Accused for stealing money? That was so not me.
I didn’t realize… that’s exactly what we were doing. I paid such little attention, that I didn’t realize one of my friends was actually stealing
from the box, right under my nose.
I told the truth, took responsibility for what I knew, and defended my “friend” to no end.
My first and second jobs both went the same, both ended for the same reasons. I knew I didn’t fit there, I needed to try something different.
At 19 I was a Customer Service Representative at a call center. I spent 9+ hours a day making and taking calls that had to do with Medicare’s A, B,& C, memorizing rebuttals and loopholes. This was my calling, pun intended.
You’d think By 21, one would be a grown up, and I really truly thought I was. I was finally back in school for a career & thought I had it all figured out. Instead, I was even more confused than before. Being confused really isn’t a bad thing, until it is.
At 21 I was officially a renter.I was a student. I was a mother. I was a side chick. I was a girlfriend.  
By 22 I had two children, two boyfriends, my first two cavities, a handful of heavy addictions and some new and underdeveloped mental health problems.
By 23, I had started school somewhere else for something else. I had served time as a Prisoner in a prison twice by now and was on the road to losing everything. I didn’t realize how much I actually had.
I was an addict.
I was a mother.
I was a ward of the state.
I was a convict.
I was a cheater.
I was evicted.
Who was I? Is this who I was going to spend my life being?? A Loser.
By 24, I had 3 babies & a mouthful of cavities.
Before I turned 24, custody was taken.
Before I turned 25 I was a patient.
I was in and out of sobriety, unsure of how to be a mother, unsure of how to be responsible, I couldn’t even balance a check.
Who was I going to be when I grew up??
At 25, in the process of my kids coming home, Again I faced loss.
A loss I couldn’t undo, no matter how hard I tried. Until then, I thought everything could be undone. I thought anything could be fixed with enough effort, enough prayers, enough will. I was so wrong.
This loss destroyed me, and I tried with every ounce of strength to not let it.

I don’t even think I realized I was a grown up. I was not. I could not be.
How had I fucked up so much, so badly in such a short amount of time??

The next 5-7 years includes a lot of adult content and will be in part II which I might make for subscribers only, as it gets very deep, very personal, and very explicit. 

Can you relate? Do you know someone who has struggled like so? Do you know someone who is currently struggling? There are so many options, countless ways to get back on the right track, but it can’t be done alone. Don’t do nothing. Do anything but that. There is hope, there is help and there is still time. The time is now, today.

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Reach out to someone to get help. Reach out to talk. It takes a village, and not everyone comes equipped with a village- make one. Make your own village. Find the people who care and are going to help you.

Send me an email @ Truthmommy@gmail.com (personal email). Visit the Drug Abuse Hotline by clicking here. Text the Crisis Text Line by texting HOME or BRAVE to 741741 & a trained crisis counselor will get it & respond within minutes.

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