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Is it Safe?

Everyone wants to know, is it safe?

Vaccines, shots, medicines, pills, etc.

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!!?

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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?

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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.

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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??

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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.

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An introduction of why I’m here.

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.

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Featured

Welcome to My New Parenting Blog

Be yourself; Everyone else is already taken.

— Oscar Wilde.

This is the first post on my new blog. I’m just getting this new blog going, so stay tuned for more. Subscribe below to get notified when I post new updates.

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Where In the world is Aunt Jemima ?!

Listen to the most recent episode of my podcast: What happened to Aunt Jemima ? https://anchor.fm/truth-mommy/episodes/What-happened-to-Aunt-Jemima-e1blcci

an irreplaceable feeling

It’s something about our touch.. our sounds, our stillness & sense …

My children have all had a period of time where they slept next to me, and they had to be touching me. In some way or another; They could be on the other side of the bed, yet their tiny foot/feet were making contact with me.

My littles one moves around in her sleep when she feels or hears me near & doesn’t stop moving til she’s making contact with me.

My heart beat .

This must be why they said skin to skin…

These babies grew inside of us. You literally cannot get any closer to us, to our hearts, than the children you birthed. Not taking away from anyone else in any way – just giving my perspective.

They want to hear our heart beating, feel our hearts beating. There’s a comfort in that, that some just cannot go without.

To me, it’s important.

To me, I have to cherish it.

It won’t be this way forever – I keep reminding myself this. I keep reminding patI keep saying it outloud but I still have to remind myself,, I still forget.

These babies aren’t babies forever, so I believe in closeness. I believe in cuddling, hugs, goodnight kisses, bed sharing & I believe in giving into it.

Maybe it can be a lot … but it isn’t forever.

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Something they never tell you is:

How many times have I heard, read, or seen the words;

‘ something they never tell you’ ‘something they never told you is…”

I cannot even tell you how many times I’ve heard that at this point.

Butttt this one, this one – nobody tells you.

Nobody even knows it, until they know it.

It’s not like a class was taught on “the things they’ll never tell you”

But that’s because you truly don’t know it, until you truly know it.

A mornings first thought

What if a soul mate isn’t the person you first fell in love with, but the first person who fell in love with you?

What if we’ve been looking at it wrong all along?

Who would your soulmate be?

Do you even remember? Or did you ever even know? Who keeps track? Or is there no track at all?

CMsqsuared.imissyou.iloveyou.

CcccccccM. I’m.so.sorry.

Very much like you, I’m stubborn. Maybe we’re stubborn in different ways. Either way.

I thought of you tonight. It was the first time in a long time that ive thought of you. I even searched your name on messenger,nothing recent.

For all I know , those messages go back 10-15 years… maybe I’d smile? Maybe I’d cry?

Idk. I don’t even want to.

Know, that is.

Can I start over, by saying how grateful I am that your alive??

Maybe I’m a hypocrite. But never in bad form or intentionally. I love you.

You’re a piece to my puzzle. Actually, a missing piece. How it’s been so long just doesn’t even make sense to me.

We were best friends for years

My longest friend.

I wish you were here to see, and hear SO MANY THINGS .

I love you. I miss you col.

Our babies have grown, my kids aren’t any longer Tiny infants and toddlers. We are no longer each other’s best friends.

And it’s my fault for being so weak.

I’m sorry that I was unsure of who to really trust with what just yet.*

I’m sorry you were backed into a corner.

I’m sorry that you blame me.

Overall I’m just so sorry for not being who you needed me to be, the best friend you needed in me.

I hope you are on top of the world with those boys.

Girls- both of you . I love and miss y’all more than I could show ❤️

ALL my love, and BEST wishes. From a blog you may never see . xoxo

Truly yours,

GymClassheros

***That my friends alone is a lesson – every person you trust – can and should ONLY be trusted with the type of ishhh they can be trusted with – otherwise- you literally cannot trust them. One per genera .

The kids double Halloween Birthday Party

I did it! It’s over … we got through it – I survived the panic

Birthday Party Itinerary help

Silly me. I made and sent out our, “annual Halloween / Double birthday party invitations”, without ever double checking them, and without a birthday party itinerary!!

Here is where ya’ll come in to help! :] –

I unfortunately wrote the time as “2pm-7pm”… see what I did there? My intentions were to have our party be from 3p-6p, but then I thought about daylight. We want darkness for at least a portion of the party! – Here lies my problem, I wrote that the party starts at 2pm.

People, and their children are going to show up at 2pm.

I need plans!! I need a way to better organize this day!!!

This Day is this Saturday.

I always make it work, but I think this time, I’m in need of some assistance.

The ages range from 3 year olds to 13 year olds, tons of in between.

That is a lot. A lot of different people to accommodate.

But this isn’t just your average, “Annual Halloween Party”. No not just that, but a Birthday Party for a little Girl turning 8, and a young man turning 10. DOUBLE. DIGITS.!!!!!

I have an eyeball Pinata for the kids to go haamm on.. of course the string broke the day we filled it.

I do have some games and activities for the kids such as;

Bucket of guts where kids retrieve items from gross noodles- Winner will be whoever collects the most in allotted time.

Monster Mash Musical Chairs

Pumpkin Bowling; After they bowl, they can decorate the pumpkins

Mummy Game w/ toilet paper rolls & teams .. ( this couldn’t happen the last birthday party due to TP outage! *eye roll*)

Ring Toss with a witch hat ( aka the orange cones my older child and her friend “found in a dumpster” …) – Way to go kiddo! Catching up!! Used my love for dumpster diving against me lol!

So, as you can see, I’ve got a lot to do this coming Saturday. I’ve got a lot to do.

TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN-

To whom this may concern,

Hello! I hope you were awoken by a beautiful insert season here , ( in my case autumn) day this morning😊 and that wherever this letter finds you, may you be well! I think you know my name and all that, so we can skip the formalities!! For the sake of purpose.

My purpose in writing to you tonight, is to make a few things clear and get a few crooked things straight!

First and foremost, I am not new.

Maybe that is the most relevant problem with our ‘situation’, maybe it’s the least. I don’t know.

I’m skipping a beat to take a beat and ease into this, but there is no way to really do that besides worming around, the Ins and outs. It doesn’t even matter today. No, not this time. This time was, in every single and possible way – different. This time I didn’t even know what just happened . it was a flash. A bomb.

Your a bomb. A tornado . A hurricane without a warning .

You make me talk to fast, and I second, third & even fourth guess every single word out of my mouth when I’m near you.

Your soul will be forever in debt to me for using the fuck outta me. And you did make a promise and you lied. Lied manipulated… drained. As if my life isn’t enough.

As if I don’t have my own shit. I’ll remember. My soul.. will remember.

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