Everyone wants to know. So how come when an addict asks, is it safe, do non-addicts question their sensibility? Because addicts, who have been addicted to street drugs were willing to, not only administer an ” I.V”, on their own, but an I.V filled with God knows what!!?
I can get with that, but I can also get with this.
Our government is not trusted by MANY, MANY people. The reason we are/ were, ever addicted in the first place, in one way or another, is related to the government. The government runs this country. Fuck a simulation, that isn’t what this is! There are no pimpley nerds sitting behind V-R goggles eating a slice of burnt pizza dripping greese all over their laptop while they control our simulated world ( as the theory is going) – No. They are in suits and ties up in pent houses, on wall street, on our T.V screens, in OUR white house, speaking publicly, telling us what to do, and when to do it. They are all around us, Running our world.
They gave us the medical drugs. They did nothing about the street drugs. It is, was, will always be, up to us.
So is it safe? Is birth control safe? Is Narcan safe? Is Prozac, adderall, or Naltrexone safe? What about the flu shot? The COVID-19 vaccine?? The MMRA baby shots? Zoloft? Zofran?? We do not know.
Question; Is it safe to eat shellfish during pregnancy? – This right here is solely an example of my point- the answer may sound something along the lines of this next part… “Just because I spent 10 years booting heroin into my veins does not mean I do not care. It does not mean I want to live a risky, unethical lifestyle. It does not mean I am no longer cautious. I still ask. I want to be informed. I was probably one of the most well-informed junkies back in the day.” – Say what you will.
Is heroine safe? No. That answer is simple. No, it was/is not safe, nor sanitary, for us to administer an I.V to ourselves, or others, in the Handicapped bathroom stall at our local Mcdonald’s. We know all of this. This is common sense. We did what we were always told not to do. We did what we saw, what we were shown. What we were around. What we thought felt good. We did it because it did feel good.
Where did we all end up???
We ended up sick. Sick, confused, and in a type of pain that we did not yet understand.
Then we ended up waltzing into courthouses, these places we had never been, we walked through crowded rooms filled with judging eyes, down dark halls, and we even learned of outback basement EXIT doors that we had not known existed. “So that’s where the prisoners go”. We answered to complete strangers, people who we had never met, we answered to men and women in long black gowns who we quickly learned we were not allowed to talk to.
Then we went to hospitals. Through Emergency Room doors. Some of us got a ride in, while others desperately crawled. We were watched by more strangers, for 12 hours at a time. Laid up in our hospital beds, while our entire bodies were dying.
You sent us out with little brown paper lunch bags filled to the top with what you called comfort. You said see you in 2 weeks, be sure to attend all of our meets!
For me, that was it, I was gonna quit! We went home on our missions, took all the pills that you called comfort, 3xs a day, and we I felt the best feeling I we had ever felt.Except… wait, feeling? What do I feel?? – I woke up and had just been dead. – The feeling was the addicts little baby, jumping on her head –
Then some of us walked crawled into Detoxes, while others were literally dragged, sick surrounded by sick. We could never even remember the first few days. We had Detoxes stuffed with some kind of hope, hope we gave to one another. Hope that started with, well, since your here too I guess it isn’t that bad.. and ended with I’m clean and sober now can I have a job? I want to fix people like me… I’m cured! – — We were addictions Science experiments. We were Addictions Frog dissection. We did day programs, we went inpatient, we did everything we could think of to fix ourselves.
Instead of applying to colleges or for jobs, we applied for halfway and Sober houses. We waited on lists, and even then we still had hope. List’s is that all we are to you?? Names on a list? Nothing more.
We heard the messages, we got the stories, we took it all in over, and over and over again. We knew the phrases and sayings off the top of our heads, we would even say them to our friends.
But it wasn’t over yet right? They said that relapsing is okay, that relapse is a part of our recovery.
So we did just that.
Then we walked were dragged back through those courtrooms, our names on more lists filled with names. Except for this time we were escorted in through that back, basement door. Held in those cold, dry, smelly spaces, awaiting our time to be judged. We were hauled into courtrooms filled with so many familiar and unfamiliar faces.
Then, You took our kids away. Our families were broken apart, split into pieces. Broken.
Broken, some of us fought.
You gave us tasks that were damned near impossible. You wanted us to work full or part time, do the 12 steps, go to 4-5 NA or AA meetings a week, while taking anger management classes, parenting classes, and doing IOP ( intensive outpatint programs) 3 days a week!! You wanted us to have no contact with the people who had our kids, even if it was our mothers and fathers. You made us drop everything we were doing at any time, to have us come pee in a cup for you. You wanted us to be stable, with homes,and jobs and certificates, going to meetings, whilst practicing the 12 steps.
We were like monkeys in a cage. Like otters at the zoo. You told us what to do how to do it where to do it and when to do it without caring about us. About what we went through. You wanted us to do the impossible.
You dragged us through family courts, through criminal courts, and civil courts, all to make us pay. Justice. Justice?
We went to Prisons, institutions, jails. ( familiar context?) We met many, many, faces and crimes we would never have thought. We saw things we had only seen in movies and on TV, never did we think we would see some of the things.
Then some of us got clean. Some of us are here. Some of us did the impossible and then some. Some of us are here, but we will never be OK.
Some of us did not make it that far. Some of us had to say goodbye to each other, goodbye to the Earth, goodbye forever to our future. Some of us are no longer here.
More of us than not, are no longer on this plane.
We are in Jails. We are In Prisons, we are in Institutions, and we are dead. We are here too. We are here, and we’ve gone above and beyond proving ourselves capable. Proving ourselves to you. Proving that we deserve a say, We deserve the right to not be judged, an to be able to ask is it safe.
Because the last time we thought it was safe, when you wrote us those scripts for our broken bones, sports injuries, sprains, aches, etc – we believed you. And look where it got us??
Y’all I don’t do political conversations or usually even anything close to a post like this…. I’m just feeling.
TODAY I’m Feeling stuck. Feeling disconnected. I don’t feel like I’m heading in any particular direction, good or bad. Just stuck. Still.
I’m unsure. I’m pissed. I don’t know. But I do have stuff I want to say. There is so much unsaid I need to say.
Ever craved to do something big? I say crave, because desire isn’t even a strong enough description of the feeling. You want it so bad , to do it so bad, yet your not even sure what it would be.
Hi, I’m The Truth Mommy!! I’m trying to get out there and be known for giving , “the truth about momming”, and everything else I know or can tell you. I’m currently working on/towards a book.. I’m Here to journal my good days and bad days and everything in between. Hey, don’t blame me if you don’t like it, I’m just telling it like it is. Telling it like it is, regardless of judgement. I am a recovering addict. My recovery Date is November 1- 2015. I didn’t do it without help, support, medical support, motivation, tears, sweat, pain, family support, and my amazing husband. For years I thought I had it under control, and could get or just stay better (whether ‘better’ meant my sobriety, or my mental health depended on the time) for, my kids. Always trying to fight, for my kids. Doing everything I could, everything I was supposed to do, to bring my family home. Get better for them all, never for myself. It never seemed to be enough, but that wasn’t the case- the case was, I just wasn’t afraid enough, it wasn’t real enough, I didn’t care about me, or what happened to me anymore. No one else did, why should I? The 2 men in my life (baby daddies if you will), that were supposed to be a part of my support system, part of my family, had completely destroyed my self esteem. They both took advantage of my vulnerability, they fed off of it. I would move mountains for both of them, I’d jump when they said jump. HELL They had my children, what was I supposed to do?? That my friends, is a story for a different post. Not today Satan. This post is about ME. I can’t won’t distract myself with that type of pain, going back to that will ruin more than my entire day. I live with so many resentments. I cannot even begin.
So, here is where this story really begins, this is going to lead me to where I am today. The day I woke up, totally Naked, alone, head hanging over one corner of my bed, not even aware of the date or time, SO confused, my house completely ransacked, all of my hidden belongings, including my rent money, drugs, and jewelry were GONE. My dresser COVERED in confectionery sugar. That was on Halloween, in 2015. Halloween is supposed to be a fun day, a special day, a day for trick or treating, dressing up silly, plowing candy, and it just so happens that it is one of my babies Birthday’s, 10/31. That was the day I knew I had had enough, I had to stop. I had to live. I was alive, and I had NO idea how. Eventually, that same day, I put the pieces together, looking through my phone, my laptop ( at the time my life line), making phone calls, frantically searching my house, wracking my brain. I remembered exactly what happened. I know exactly what happened. All I can say on here, with honesty, is that MY ANGEL was with me. He must have been because I was literally left in my apartment to die. People had been with me, people had used with me, and those same exact people had robbed me, and then left me. Those people, I grew up with. Those people, 1 of them, I had saved before with narcan. And they left me in my bed, thinking I was DEAD… to die. They were the ones who were always afraid and would run. At least 1 of them had been there for all 5 ODS that I had saved at my house. I never let or left anyone to die. F$#@ YOU for that. Later one that day, I got myself together, got myself “right”, and then made a bunch of important phone calls. I was retracing the steps I had taken the last time. The time I had 2 and a half fucking years of sobriety. The time I could say with what I thought to be my full honesty, I do not know how I EVER did that, I could NEVER EVER do it again. I could’ve sworn that I was afraid enough to never go back. That I had lost enough, to never want to go back. The 2.5 years had only come to an abrupt end earlier that year, I want to say May, is when I relapsed, but that wouldn’t be the full truth. I had relapsed long before I began using that way again. This time though, I was DONE. So here I am, more than 5 years sober. I won’t say I am cured, I will say, I wanted to live and be there for my children, and I AM.
I have more stories to tell than you could imagine. I’ve been to Prison, (not jail), multiple times, for petty things like probation violations etc. I’ll never forget how scared I was in the back of that van the very first time. My first 30 days. I never could have imaged how many more times I’d be in that same situation again, or that each stay would become longer and longer, and take more and more from me and my family. I had a baby in jail, and didn’t get to see my baby until a few months later. Can you imagine that? I held that baby for 2 days, no one was going to take that time from me, no matter how hard they tried. I am only human, not a monster. Humans should never treat others the way I was treated. Shackled to a bed being scorned and threatened for breast feeding my baby? It was inhumane.
If you’ve come this far, before you form any negative opinion of me personally, if that’s where your thoughts are, keep reading first, and you may just see things from a perspective you might think you’d never see, or even want to understand.
MIND YOU this; the day I was officially released , sometime in late November, My PO wanted me to go back to prison, she fought tooth and nail for me to finish up another 6 month bid, for NOTHING. Once my lawyer presented the LOADS and LOADS of paperwork she had accumulated and put together for my case; all of my negative tests, the meconium sample, and the inaccuracy proven of the quick cups they used, (the ONLY one that picked up a food grade of positive), once she finished her statement, The Judge, a different one from who sent me there, an understanding man with kind eyes, pretty much told my PO off, looked over to me, and with SUCH sincerity, apologized to me. he said I NEVER should have been forced to have my BABY in prison, and told my PO that holding me was completely inappropriate, and unnecessary , as I had IMMEDIATLY , willingly PAID FOR & took hair follicle test, multiple urine’s at multiple labs, and even the hospital records that showed my baby and I tested positive for NOTHING!!!!! OH AND!! This is great, my due date was 11/1/13, my one and only fail was on 10/12/13, I was sent back 10/18/13, ANDDD MY COURT DATE WAS 10/31/13 . So, yes, as you can probably imagine, at midnight on 10/31, I laid on my bottom bunk in my cell, praying to GOD to PLEASE not let me have this baby right then and there, PLEASE just get me to the courthouse tomorrow. 7 years later and I haven’t spoken of this, but I remember it all SO clearly right now, like it was MUCH more recently than that. I remember envisioning what would happen if I was in front of the judge and dramatically went into labor, or in the patty wagon on the long ride there. I was so afraid. I felt pain. Pain I did not remember, but yet I knew what was happening. So I started watching as the guards did their rounds… every 15 minutes. My contractions were 15 minutes apart. At 12:45, I gave in, while a C.O was rounding, I stood at my cell door’s tiny window waiting. When the flashlight hit my eyes, I said… ” ‘I’m in labor” , he replied, ” Are you pregnant?”, than, ” Are you sure its labor?”.
I spent 6 months in prison, pregnant. It was not my first rodeo BUT pregnant?? I went in February 23rd, and on April 20th, I was told I was pregnant. So that was fun.
After wrapping up those 6 months, I was released directly from there July 1, was out and happy , with a DCF worker and PO up my butt, I was doing everything right, everything they told me to do, I did it and more. Including calling a number for a color, ( pink), which was called for 2 random urine’s a week, AA/NA meetings, working on putting my family back together,and Let me just say – WE WERE KICKING ASS!! Hell we were on the road to getting our family back., AND add a 3rd addition. I’d been sober for 10 months, called my color super late one day as I was laying in bed stuffing my face with caramel apples and breakfast sandwiches. We had no car, but borrowed one, I did my thing, went to walk away and BAM I fail the quick cup. I seriously thought my PO was JOKING because we were just talking about how AMAZING everything was going!!
The following days and weeks were HORRIFIC. I was losing my mind. How the FUCK could this happen? How the FUCK did I fail this one urine? I went to the hospital and gave a supervised urine in the ER, and another an hour later at the lab. I even offered a hair follicle test in which my PO said I’d have to wait at least 7 days. So i did JUST that!! 8 days later, I went and paid $85 for a full panel hair follicle test. The results didn’t come in until I was gone, but it was ONLY the quick cup I failed. Anyways, after being tortured,tormented, and followed, by my PO with police, DCF, & just trying to prove myself innocent, for 2 weeks, I am sent back to prison, after I did everything possible to prove my innocence.
Listen, I’ve been pregnant multiple times, and not ONCE did I EVER use drugs while pregnant. NEVER. However, at my Wednesday night meeting, the night before that power monster of a day ,(10/12), I had devoured 3 everything bagels , and had 1 on the ride to do my urine. BRO, I WAS 8.5 MONTHS PREGNANT and HUNGRYYY!!! NOW LISTEN!! I WOULD NEVER EVER HAVE THOUGHT THAT what happened would happen!! I have always called it a myth, ALWAYS called bullshit on it. It was actually the lab tech that did my hair follicle test who offered this information to me. Poppy seeds. Yep mmmhmm I KNOW!!
My PO wouldn’t ever believe that, she didn’t. My counselor, my doctor and my pysche , all came up with that same answer, with no persuasion or even HINTS…… Poppy seeds. Food Grade levels can show up on lab tests, they are very VERY small numbers because the food has minute traces, a quick cup can pick up the food grade levels, HOWEVER, it can NOT decipher the actual level/ amount ingested.
TELL ME, how could that whole situation NOT HAVE fucked me up mentally?? How could it not have destroyed me and made me and angry, violent, mean person?
How am I not one big walking ball of HATRED?
Well, it did for a while, and I was for a bit. SO that was that.
Now, here I am today, with my family.. “Stronger than ever, Beating all the odds that have been against me. ” As I suppose they say. There are so many times I dwell on my past, and my present. I always wonder…
Yes, there was a time where I was a bit of a shitbag, & I was living a bad life… making bad choices. Yes I made the decision to use solely on my own at 19– I chose the places I went to and the people I hung out with. I made the decisions that I made on my own. I promise though, I never knew they would lead me to where I’ve been, and what I’ve gone though. I never knew I would become so addicted. I never knew that drugs would eventually destroy my life, yet leave me here to suffer. A lot of my most important friends and relationships, are dead. I’ve said goodbye to FAR too many people I love.
So theres that story. I’m ready to tell it and I want it to be heard, and known about. So share it. Tell me your thoughts. Does my story sound familiar, or are you reading this is complete awe, because you thought this sort of thing only happens on Netflix, HBO, only on TV. A lot of people may blame me, call me a terrible person, shame shame shame – but today, I can let that shit roll right off my shoulders. You could not walk a mile in my shoes at my age, and I probably couldn’t walk a mile in yours either.
So I started watching the newly released Netflix series “Brand New Cherry Flavor” last night. Did anyone binge watch it already?? Anyone watching it yet? Had you heard of it? – Yeah???No??? I didn’t think so either. It sounded wicked interesting, like something I could totally get right into, and not have to watch, rewatch, rewind, restart, and, or overthink too much. (Unfortunately for me, that happens more often than not) However, it didn’t take long for me to remember.
When I sayremember, I mean like.. 2 1/2 episodes in, I was having some like, crazy a** Dejavu. No, not the kind where I literally remember it [it being certain events] happening before, but the kind that I literally remember seeing it[even if only in my imagination] happen before. I literally remembered some key points in this story like, the Plot of the story, the theme, the conflicts, I even remembered[or came up with ( thats where I’m at at this point)] some of the solutions that I thought may have happened in whichever version of the story that I remembered. [ saw, heard, watched, read..?]
Okay, This is kind of nuts, and this story has become super intense. I’m halfway through Episode 7; “Egg”, and thus far, not only am I incredibly impressed, but also I’m still pretty floored, perplexed by the memories that I have of this storyline. Still, I haven’t remembered when, where, or how I know/heard/saw this story, but I do know that I have. I must have. Right? I mean, this has been happening throughout the series!!! While watching bothEpisodes 6&7 it was kind of like, I knew what was going to happen, what was coming, before it happened, or like, as it was happening, ya know? That kind of Dejavu.
I’m convinced that I’ve seen this story with my own 2 eyes. I feel it. I know it. I’ve watched it play out before, in a movie, as a movie. Like, the ENTIRE plot. Either I’ve seen it before, or have heard this story. Maybe in school? I doubt it. Maybe we watched/read it in my Senior Cinematography class? Maybe it was a “GooseBumps” episode? Are you afraid of the Dark? no? I DON’T KNOW!?
Google did confirm that this Limited Netflix Series was released August 14th, 2021, and that it is based on the Novel” Brand New Cherry Flavor”. Sooo it is definitely a book. I’ve definitely read it, and whenever it was that I did read it, the words must have been so perfectly descriptive, as while I watch this series, many, many scenes look EXACTLY like the scenes that I pictured while, “reading…” [[ whenever it was that I read the 1996 Novel ]]
If you have not yet seen, or are currently watching the Limited Netflix Series ” Brand New Cherry Flavor,” PROCEED WITH CAUTION – THERE MAY BE SOME SPOILER ALERTS!!!!
To Conclude; The Netflix Limited Series, ‘Brand New Cherry Flavor’ ; was a TOTAL WIN!! I’ve recommended it to multiple people already! I’d even allow my 13 y.o to watch it with me!!! A new All time favorite!!
Mostly a woman’s type of read – but only due to the TMI factors –
You don’t ever truly know pain and discomfort until you actually facetrue pain and discomfort. Pain and discomfort that is nearly impossible to pin point on/ in the body.Pain and discomfort that makes you feel so wrong, like something is going on inside of you that you have absolutely no control over.
Pain and discomfort is something I thought I could say that I’ve experienced many times in my life, and I have, but there’s nothing like this sort of discomfort. Nothing that I can compare.
Discomfort in a place that, I’m not so sure I’ve ever really been completely comfortable in. Discomfort. Uncomfortable. Pain. Pressure. Pulling. Pushing. Falling. Heavy. Opening. Emptying. Filled. Full. Burning. Building. Releasing. Clenching. Pinching. BREATHE. The feelings I’m feeling inside of my discomfort. These words surround my discomfort, my every move, or lack thereof.
My last time in a Labor and Delivery Suite was the most traumatic experience I’d ever faced. I wasinduced, which was not something that was new on me, matter of fact, I’d been induced twice, before this 3rd time. This time was different though and that was something I knew all along. I knew this baby sat differently. She was not in position, ever, in fact, she was in the complete opposite position than she was supposed to be. I knew it, but he told me I waswrong. Even though I knew what I felt, I trusted this man. Unfortunately by the time this information comes to light, it is too late – 14 hours into the induction. Ready to push. Breech. Legs. Bruised. Meconium. Emergency. Adrenaline. Breech. Pain. O.R. oN call. What the hell is going on?!BREATHE.
Her legs came down where her head should be. She straddled the interior of my right hip as I laid in a puddle of my own amniotic fluid sobbing hysterically. I had clearly read and watched a little too much about labor and delivery, and about how Doctors prefer an emergency/ non urgent – C- sections rather than a vaginal.( see ” the business of being born“) ” I KNEW YOU WOULD TRY THIS!! I KNEW IT WOULD HAPPEN!!! ITS A CONSPIRACY!!” – okay, maybe that was a little dramatic, but I was definitely freaking out and refusing a C-section. No sooner did they rush in, load me up with fentanyl ( as I’d already gotten my half working epidural x’s3 ) – overdose me 3 times & hit me with adrenaline to counteract 3x’s – on the way to the O.R – . I felt like I was dying. BREATHE. I couldn’t breathe.
Hardly even a year later I noticed this constant feeling of heaviness inside of me. Almost like a SUPER heavy period was coming. It felt as though my insides were all gonna fall out. Literally. I go back to see my OBGYN, yes the one that induced me with a breech baby and after 14 hours of labor, he had left. Yes the same OBGYN I had been seeing since I was 14 years old. “Stage 1 PP” – you’ll be fine, nothing you can do really, it just happens with age anyways. ” He said what?! I did my own research into Pelvic Floor weakness, Pelvic Prolapse, the ins and outs, the types etc. This is when I discovered that I was not alone. It is actually super common in women who have had multiple children. There are some things you can do to feel better, one of them being PT.
I found a PT nearby, made an appointment, went twice- then I moved, and couldn’t find a PT with later hours as I needed. So I went to the place where you can find every and anything you can POSSIBLY imagine; The internet. I found hundreds of videos on PP- PT, (Pelvic prolapse physical therapy), subscribed to you-tube channels, and followed my own little regimen. I have to point out, my favorite, my at the time savior, @Dr.BriRogen – FemFusion Fitness and Pelvic Health.
She saved me.Changed my life. I followed her regimens to the T, for over a year. I started with her 10-15 minute videos 1-2xs a day, and after about a month, I was doing 30 day Yoga challenges with Adriene, Pilates with this one, HIIT, with that one. I was feeling a sense of accomplishment. I was feeling, and looking my best.
Everything was Great. So great, that I forgot all about my little issue. So great that once I moved, I didn’t think I needed to continue pushing myself so hard, and slowly, I stopped everything all together.
Cut to – The Now. The discomfort. The pain.
Pelvic Floor weakness is the start, this is where you can manage and possibly even prevent any type of pelvic organ prolapse. They say Kegels, but in all honesty, from the mouth of my PT, Kegels can make some types of POP worsen!! Gently insert 1 finger, and proceed to do and hold a kegel for 5 seconds….. and release. When you released, could you feel yourself actually release completely? Or was it a slow, taut release? If its the latter, than that is what you need to work on. Releasing, slowly, while inhaling. Reflex for 5 seconds while exhaling hard. Inhale to slowly, and control-ably, release.
Today the pain and discomfort is back. It can no longer be compared too only a super heavy period. I cannot find the exact words to compare. I’m not sure I’ve ever experienced such an uncomfortable feeling, especially one that I can hardly place.
Here is about as close as I can get, at the moment. Ever had a UTI? Either a sense of urgency, or frequency? Or both? – Ever had a really really painful, uncomfortable period?? Where you can literally feel your walls shedding?? What about “vaginal candidiasis”?BV? Okay, if you’ve EVER had 2 or more of those mentioned above, whether you had them at the same time, or at completely separate times, you can remember somewhat what they felt like, right? Well here is my comparison, for now. Its like the beginning stages of labor, when you FIRST realize, “oh shit these are contractions” – mixed with that feeling you get, maybe more of a sensation , after spending days in a pool, in your bathing suit, realizing SHIT, here comes a yeast infection – all the while you’ve felt as though you’ve been unable to completely empty your bladder after every time you pee, therefore having a BAD U.T.I for over a week! All of those things at once is what I can compare this pain and discomfort to. Finally, when your at the GYNO, and they are inserting the speculum? That pressure? That pinch? That’s the feeling of discomfort while only sitting down.
Today is worse. Today my pain and discomfort is accompanied by chest pains, constant chest pain, on the right side, towards the middle. Plus my sides feel some sort of pain. I can’t place it. When i cannot place my pain, I’m afraid that it is because the pain is in/on/ surrounding an organ. Although, I’ve always had problems with heartburn and indigestion.
I’m falling apart.
I’m not even in my mid-thirties yet, and I’m falling apart.
I’m journal-ing this experience to follow. To remember or be remembered. To relate and be relatable. To hopefully help someone who is afraid, or uneducated. I am afraid right now, but I am also a very strong and have educated myself on the matter of Pelvic Floor Health. I will continue to do so. For me. For you. For my daughters. Granddaughters.
Yes being a woman can sometimes suck, but what I’ve failed to mention, is that this is not only a women’s problem.This is not something that you get only after having children.Infants can be diagnosed with this, as can women without children, as can men.
If you feel strongly about this subject, this post, or anything to do with POP ( pelvic organ prolapse) – Speak up! I welcome you to join us on our journey through understand Pelvic Health.
Celeste is a stay home mom and entrepreneur with a background in addiction, mental health, and psychology. She studies health topics to discuss, after thoroughly researching and or experiencing. She has 4 beautiful children whom are her entire world. She is actively trying to build on and leave a legacy in which all will remember her by. Her goal is helping other women that suffer the same challenges as herself.
Just a quick catch up… I forgot all about my Blogger.. I just read my old post’s from 2012, and wow how much things have changed in my life. For instance.. I have 3 children now, my eldest daughter is almost 7, My only son who is almost 4, & my 2nd daughter , who is almost 2. She was born on Halloween, while I was in MCI- Framingham.
Yup. False +Positive random urine w. my probation officer, Michelle Rawdon. It was Friday, October 4th when my color Pink was called. Thursday night P & I went to a meeting up the street @ the church in the basement… and I had brought an everything bagel w/ veggie cream cheese. Friday morning around 11am, I called P & asked him to either go to Stop & Shop & get me a caramel apple… or if his ride didn’t feel like waiting there.. to just go to Dunks drive thru & get me another Everything bagel w/ veggie cream cheese, again. ( this was a CONSTANT pregnancy craving ) So I ate it. Around 2pm I called the number to check on my color, & what do ya know… it was called. Of course it was. But what did I care? I was 8 mos preggo & 8mos sober! So, here we go… I am giant, spent the first 5 mos of my pregnancy in Prison already… found out I was preggo in there.. still fighting for the older two of my kids. Went 1 year without seeing my eldest because of programs , Prison & getting high. Getting off subject a little, these are all their own stories. So I say to Michelle, ” Should P stay here with my stuff? Or should I bring it with me?” She replies with the most PERFECT response possible… After doing random urine screens with this woman for almost 2 years… but having clean urines through my Pregnancy.. ” Take it with you cuz you won’t need to come back here unless you fail.” PERFECT!! So i say “yah like that would ever happen again.”
Here we are… in the bathroom, and I pee in a cup, hand it to Michelle & then washed my hands. As I was standing by the sink… Michelle says.. ” Oh my God,Cel it’s positive for Morphine.” I’m like… yah okay. LOL no way. ” No seriously Celeste, it’s positive..”
“Okay… well that’s clearly wrong” So I demand to take another, and she says.. that I can go to the new Lab that used to be SECON, but is now something new. I’m freaking out. whatever.. I’m sober. I did all that I could.
The urine at the lab was supposed to be the kind that gets sent out to another professional head lab, but it was only a dipstick… it was not professionally tested, nor was the quick cup at court. I know my rights, I know that I need a laboratory tested urine, ( to prove that the positive was in fact only a food grade level, therefore a false positive.)
So I call my therapist & my CSP worker Peg & ask WTF happened… WTF should I do? We drive straight to their office … and the 4 of us sit around a large table talking & try to figure out what could have happened.
We come up with almost nothing. The 2 professionals ask us a series of questions, particularly nagging on what I had been eating in the last 12-24 hours. As I’m answering the questions it hits me. But no, that’s a Myth!! I won’t even say the words out loud. No one would EVER believe those words coming from my mouth. As I’m thinking these thoughts, the other 3 stare at me blankly. “ Wait what?” I ask. I was too involved in the racing thoughts in my head to hear the ongoing discussion happening right in front of me … “ Poppy seeds!! Poppy seeds from the bagels!!” She says in shock. My jaw must’ve dropped. I reply, “ that’s a myth though…” and no sooner than I say that does Peg already have a boatload of information, articles, testimonies , etc up on her laptop screen.
The poppy seeds on the everything Bagels made me fucking fail. My therapist tells me That I need to do another urine, and go to the hospital for bloodwork. We were determined to prove this case.
So I go to Good Sam E.R, I explain my situation, and ask to take a urine & have blood work done & tested. I’m there for HOURS!! I had to take 2 urines because the first one I took was not supervised. The second time a nurse came in there with me. ALL of my tests came back negative, besides the one at court, & I guess also the one at the lab!!! So, I offer to take a hair follicle test 7 days after my failed urines.
Now I was a mess. A completely paranoid mess. I couldn’t even sleep at night without thinking someone was in or trying to get into my house? I couldn’t even drive somewhere without thinking people were following me.. I even went as far as to going up to a car that had been behind me for 45 minutes!! They had parked shadily in view of my doctors office, and when I came out over an hour later the women was STILL IN HER CAR !!! gosh I probably scared tf outta the poor women, when I approached her, she admitted she had been behind me the entire ride, she was just early for an appointment I guess. I don’t know, this shit was really messing my head up bad.
I had JUST gotten my visit’s with my oldest child back. I was doing the mandatory 5 meetings a week, and anger management, and parenting classes, AND I WAS EIGHT MONTHS FKING PREGNANT!!!! I was a mental mess. Why would I lie about this? Life wasn’t at its greatest moments, but I was trying, and I was doing every single solitary task given to me by my pO & DCF. Why would I fuck all that up and stick around for it!??
1 week later, I went & got a hair follicle test at the lab. The following day… Saturday, October 12th, I am home alone.. I go pee… and as I’m flushing the toilet, someone is knocking on the door. I open it… & there stand 2 cops, & Michelle with a quick cup. REALLY?! I’m like ha wow, what a joke… I just went pee! So Michelle comes in my bathroom with me.. and I’m literally PUSHING as if i’m pushing out my child!! Nothing. “ Michelle I really can’t go I need to chug water or something so I can go again” I plead.
Michelle : “ when I was pregnant I could pee on command so don’t tell me you just can’t go let’s go you’ve got 5 minutes to, if you don’t go by the end of the 5, I’m considering it positive and that’ll be fail number 2.” she said it with such conviction. Looking back, she must’ve hated me just because she could.
I’m nearly in tears trying to pee. Even writing this over, I’m holding back tears. This was one of the most stressful moments of my life. This whole situation, so fucking traumatic.
I can’t handle this. I don’t need the stress. After pushing my fucking guts out for those entire 5-6minutes, finally I hear something… I literally got like, 3 drops of pee in the cup. She says that’s fine, walks into my kitchen leaving me in the bathroom exhausted, in tears. Negative. Obviously. As she’s walking down my hallway toward the front door, I tell her I got the hair follicle test done, and of course she didn’t believe me. So I run to my room , unlock my safe, grab all the papers, run back to her, and place the carbon copied ‘receipt’ in her hand. “Oh. Gee look you really did it.” Says the miserable probation officer.
She tells me that if it comes back clean, I will be fine. Problem is, my final surrender hearing is October 18th, and the test takes up to 10 days. Okay. Great Michelle thanks for ALL your help and support.
So I get held on the 18th for the safety of my unborn child. What a nightmare!!!!! I’ll fast forward to the night I Wake up around midnight, on Halloween… AKA my COURT DATE.. in my jail cell with a weird nervous feeling in my belly. Oh… awesome I can’t go back to sleep, and the feeling is more like cramps now. The unit CO does rounds every 15 minutes, so I begin timing my “cramps” by his rounds.. every time he got to the room next to mine, I had the cramps. Finally… around 2 AM I stand at the door waiting for him… and I say.. I think I’m in labor.. ” Are you pregnant?” he asks. DER. So I walk up to HSU, and they time my contractions.. call a state car & bring me to BMC… Weirdest people ever. I am handcuffed to a bed while they monitor my contractions. They see NO contractions. Oh okay. Well, Your 6 CM dilated .. so here we go to labor & delivery room. Joy. Now the nurses and doctors are arguing with the female CO that is by my side telling her to get out of the room, and she calls MCI and they say she can not leave my side. She says that since I’m being very respectful, she will step outside of the room for 2 minutes. OK im puking my brains out with HORRIBLE heartburn. SHIFT CHANGE!!! It’s about 10:30 am, and finally my county CO’s ( plymouth) get there, So my MCI CO can leave. Whoops, they forgot to bring a female CO with them 🙂 So they can not come in the room. They call in and the woman is on her way. Well, I’m no longer handcuffed for the time being… and here comes baby around 10:51 am! Good, Glad I got to deliver without a CO holding up a leg! seriously.
They move me, and the woman gets there. Beastly bitch, I was so fucking mad. She handcuffed, & shackled my ankle to the bed, as I’m holding my new baby. Baby NO NAME, as she stays for 3 days. A very nice male CO comes in and we talk a lot about the baby, and what happened… He comes back later, with a list of names that their definition relate to God. Abigail. Ok, I like it. Back to Prison I go on Saturday! JOY!
Court Date is moved to November 22nd, my MIL gets Abby. P & my lawyer, Tina Green, get my court date moved to November 14th!!! Yay! Michelle, being the evil bitch she is, request’s that I finish my sentence. The Judge is in Awe. “This poor girl was forced to have her baby while incarcerated.. isn’t that enough?”.
Tina , in amazing depth explains the hair follicle tests & how quick cups are not legally supposed to be used in a court house to incarcerate someone because they are very sensitive & can be wrong very easily. I go home!!! Okay, life gets worse… but I stayed Sober, fought for my oldest in 1 court room, fought for the 2 toddlers in another. I get my toddlers back in June 2014. After 2 years, my boy is home. My oldest sleeps over every other Friday, and comes over every monday. I hit my 2 year mark on February 24th 2015. 2 YEARS clean!! I did it! I got my kids back, remained sober, and stuck it out with P. I worked at an answering service for over a year… and loved it.
Now I’m jobless. I made a mistake. I’m trying to be happy now, with P & the kids.. but now again my oldest is absent . It is not right that when her dad has a girlfriend, he completely ignores me, and keeps my child from me, except for the dys we came up with in court… which the Judge said we can change the visits on our own once we get along and can co-parent. I went almost 1 year without speaking to her father due to his harassment order on me We started talking again on our daughters 6th birthday, & things began to change and we eased ourselves into some sort of friendship / relationship / best friends from then until about a month ago. I saw him & our daughter everyday and was so happy. I’m OK today I guess. I have learned to accept the things that I can not change. I keep to myself as much I can. I’ve been on here forever… and Pat is getting mad. The kids are off the wall, and I’m really feeling like.. down today. I wrote this for myself & P to read in the future. It was good to read my old post’s and to see how far We’ve come. I hope to stumble upon this site again in the future.
That was written in 2015. I literally cannot even imagine having to deal with any of that today.
Today I’m here. I’m alive. I’m present. I’ve got most importantly my 4 kids, & P. My own small businesses, and a home. I’ve lost many, many friends to that lifestyle. Drugs. Many of the people that I thought would be in my life forever, the friends that I truly believed would always be around are mostly dead, some in jail, and others still on drugs.
If your feeling hopeless to your addiction / lifestyle reach out, trust and believe me when I say, you can get past this. You can have a normal life again. You do deserve to have a good life and you do deserve to be here today .
I find myself living with survivors guilt, but one day and one thing at a time ❤️
I am late for getting ready for work… Before the last couple of months I don’t even remember the last time those words came out of my mouth or anything like that. Now, after being a stay at home mom full-time for over 5 1/2 years, not only did I start my own cup, T-shirt, bags, glass, etc design production business, but
Okay, so I’m back home; and it’s now 10:08pm. Boy what a night I had. Tonight I cleaned at one of my all star clients house … and within the first 10 minutes of being there…. I carelessly sliced my pointer finger DEEP with a pizza cutter🤣🤦🏼♀️ ( yes the finger that JUST healed from paronychia) I thought said pizza cutter was something more of a “dough” tool, rather than a butcher knife 😂🤣 I dropped every broom and vacuum every time I put them down, AND I dropped my spray down the stairs 🤣😂🤦🏼♀️🤷🏼♀️.
Ahhhh soo here we are, months into my new hustle. Feeling pretty good about it. I’ve got some amazing clients who, without them, I wouldn’t still have the motivation or ambition to be doing this. They’ve been, nothing short of absolutely frikkin AMAZING!! They got me to this point, with their positive words, guidance, and especially their posts raving about me and the fact they have a housekeeper – period!!
It’s been good for me. Me as a person. I’m networking. I’m making friends. I’ve got my own clientele ( solely built on marketing and word of mouth – the BEST marketing strategy by far ). I’m growing as a woman, an becoming more independent.
Ahhh networking. Not too long ago, that was an ancient , lost on me, word. It’d just been far too long for me. I’d been cooped up. Speaking of coops, I also have my own mini farm now!! I’ve got 3 beautiful chickens & 4 GORGEOUS ducks!! That’s a story for another post.
Being a stay at home mom (SAHM), is my life. It was my only life for years. I was just riding the currents of life, going with the flow – but today, I go against the flow, with the flow, and all around the flow!! I AM the flow, I AM the currents, I AM a functioning, participant in society. Having a career , being a SAHM, being a wife, a girlfriend. A mother, a daughter, a sister, a neighbor, a friend – it’s all a part of life, you’ve just got to live it! Feel good about it. Find your niche.
Hell cleaning has never been a thing I loved to do. It still is not a thing I LOVE to do. I pushed myself to find something I could possibly be GREAT at, and be paid for too, and it just so happened to be cleaning.
Today, I live my life, and participate in it. Yes there are days when I don’t want to get out of bed, sometimes I stay in my room. In the house all day. For the most part, I have decided and tried to – live my life for the people I’ve lost. I’ll live it because they no longer can. I’ll live it and speak of them and think of them every single solitary day, because they cannot, and I loved them SO much.
Ever hear of Home-a-Glow? It’s comparable to and Uber, or a Lyft type website, except it’s for house cleaners!! pretty cool right? Need your house cleaned but don’t have the time/motivation to do so? I GOTCHUU! Log onto http://www.homeaglow.com, set up your preferences & any personal requests, save it, post it & BAM! Your on the market for a certified house cleaner! One will just have to log into their account, go through any and all job requests that match their criteria ( ex. Area they service, hours they can work, etc), and CLAIM the job(s) they want to work! Easy enough right?
It is an interesting way to meet new people, learn new things & even maybe make a few new friends/connections along the way!!
So I haven’t posted much on here lately, as that has taken up a lot of my “spare” time, but I hope it just may help to clear my writers block!! 😊🤞🏻✌🏻
How young is too little to understand? How old is old enough to know/ understand?
I have 4 kids now, and I got rules of my own. I never ever wanted to lie to my children.
I recently heard read something on another blog that really got me thinking.. it’s different. I guess this specific person, a fellow blogger of mine, believed, believes, and stated, “Why start off life being lied to?” In regards to, E.B, S.C, T.Fairy ( I think you get what/ WHO I mean…)
There are many contradicting beliefs, perspectives, and just… ways of life, behind those little “white lies” we start off life with. At the same time though, if you did decide that you were not going to tell your child/ren these tales, or that you’re absolutely not going to bring a child into this world, and bring him or her up on these traditional, little “white lies”, then you won’t ever,/ don’t, get to enjoy these magical holiday experiences alongside your growing child. Where is the magic in that? Don’t you think if, say 2 out of 10 parents never ever celebrated those magical holiday beliefs from day 1, that once those children go to school, they could potentially ruin it for all the other believers, the ones who see the magic still? The ones who saw the magic all along?
It’s all in tradition. Maybe gifts for every single tradition, or rather, every single Holiday, is a little bit much, a little excessive, at least I think so, especially with this generation. Maybe we , the adults, the parents, take it to far, maybe we let them believe it for too long?
The constant changing and upgrading gadgets, expensive trinkets, cellphones, Ipads, tablets, Hover Boards, XBOX, PS1,2,3,4 etc – $60 limited supply of HATCHIMALS, ( aka my generation’s take on FURBY’S ) .
This generation, my eldest daughter’s generation, Generation Z is what we’re calling them, may just be the last generation of long-term believers. This generation, or generation Alpha, just may be the last generation of people really believing in the magic of the holidays. I mean, think about it… these kids are constantly on electronics. I don’t even know how my kids believed for so long with all the internet access they’ve got, I really don’t!
They’ve got TikTOK, Streaming TV series, facebook, snapchat, YOUTUBE, Fortnite, ROBLOX, chrome, FIREFOX, safari, ipads, cellphones… omg the list goes on and on and on…. nonetheless, with all that they can see and get to with just 1 click of a tiny button, right in their small hands… I just don’t see how we will have believers for much longer.
After coming across a fellow bloggers post, I went into a sort of rabbit hole into the world of traditional holiday magic, beliefs, non-believers – etc. I was very surprised to find such a large number of parents and children, who had never believed in, or celebrated, those ” magical” people – and they never put it on their children either.
It’s touchy. Again, what about the other kids in school?? You just don’t know. What about the kids that don’t believe or celebrate? Early on in their school career, they are going to wonder why they didn’t get the cool new XBOX under the tree, or why their mom didn’t set up a trap to catch a tiny little green mythical man.
Oh, speaking of that – that is new to me. In my childhood, I had NEVER set up a trap to catch a leprechaun!? Shit that ishh is KIDNAPPING! What are we teaching these kids?! lol I have to laugh.
However, I do and always have, left out a little jelly bean or chocolate poop trail,following behind a foot-shaped powder-made bunny hop trail every Easter?! This is where I’m brought back to the whole gift part of the tradition, and again feeling uneasy.
Another new trend I missed the memo on, apparently, the leprechaun brings gifts too now?! Shhhheeeesh!!! As a matter of fact, in the last 2 years, my children have come home from school on or around that day, asking why we didn’t set up a trap and why the leprechaun didn’t leave them any gifts or candy baskets?!? HUH?!
Twilight zone over here. Maybe it’s just me. Is it just me? What do you think about this?? What do you think about our mythical, magical creatures that we put forth as gift bearers every holiday, to take any or all credit for the gifts we hard-working parents worked hard for? Let me know in the comments!! Maybe ill be back after more delving and rabbit hole jumping 🙂
Celeste is a stay-at-home mother of 4 children from Boston, Massachusetts. She has 3 girls, 1 boy, and always has a house full of children! Her significant other of 11 years has consistently worked full time throughout their relationship, allowing Celeste to stay home and raise the children. She loves working with her cricut, sublimating tumblers, t-shirts, and anything else she can find sublimatable!! She is SUPER crafty, and has recently begun to somewhat “master” the skill of making glitter/epoxy tumblers! She began writing a blog in 2010 when she had hit a rough patch and continued to write a post every so often throughout the years. She told her story as it was when it was. Last year she picked back up on blogging and is trying to get out there with her thoughts, and her story. It needs to be told.