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.
Continue reading “When I Grow Up part 1”

Our horrible healthcare system

That song, “numb little bug”, is like the theme song. It’s what they want us all to be singing…

Our healthcare system has failed me, more times than I can count. Our justice system has failed me, as well, more than once. However, today-the healthcare system needs to be talked about. I don’t even think they know how bad they are. I know I’m not the only one, so come on!!? Why does this kind of sh?! still happen??

Later on, sometime soon.. I’m going to post about what happened to me this week. Why I felt targeted. It’s ridiculous, nonsense even. But it was able to ruin my entire day.

F. MomB
F. MomB

Heyy there, I’m FmomBiee! F – Mom-Biie … ya know? Like, Fbomb MomBie [ f bomb mom – zombie mom, it all just fits] pronounced – EFF-MOMB. – EE – my pen name, but I can be whoever you want me to be;]
Phew, now that that’s out of the way, I wanted to tell you a little bit about myself. As you know, I’m a mom , one who cusses a lot, a mom that can sometimes be compared to a zombie, a mom who cannot stand to get my fingernails dirty in the garden, or even in the kitchen even though those are 2 of my favorite places! Personally, I’m not very creative, so I like to stick to the step-by-step guides for most arts and crafts, and as far as DIY-ing?? pppffttt- Those thing’s never come out the way they are supposed to!! I am not filtered in public and I sure won’t be here on the wide world of webbed lies ;] -That’s just it though, we’re here to make , bring change, to bring Truth. In just a couple of clicks, The World Wide Web is right at the fingertips of our children. They ask Siri or Google a question, and it is instantly met with hundreds of thousands of “results” or, answers. Right ones, wrong ones, irrelevant ones, inappropriate ones, completely unrelated ones, the list goes on. We hope that we can be right there too, at the top of the results, (and not one of the top 4 useless ads), with the best, most accurate information.

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“My Season”

February & March used to be my all time favorite months, favorite seasons . If you’d have asked me 20 years ago, what time of year, or which season is my favorite? I’d have told you March. Fast forward 10 years & I’d have called it, ‘ my season.’

My season’s start and end date may or may not have always been the same, I can’t quite remember, but I do know that it would only slightly depend on the weather of that year. It generally falls somewhere between FebruaryMarch & April, sometimes May 😜. You’d have probably told me I was crazy if you heard me.



My season wasn’t really based on weather, at least not the way regular seasons are, but by Spirit, by Feeling, by the things I did and the people I saw. For years and years every time my Season came around, came a new group of friends to enjoy it with. Actually, and also for years and years, every time my season came back around, so would some of the same people. It was like, it was our season, our time we had for each other. ( or was it more like… we could only stand each other during these months? This amount of time? )

Of course, some of these people were Year rounders, and we’d venture out with our seasonal friends together, but the most important part is that this season always brought us a brandy new group of kick a$ people to go do some kick a$ $h!T with!!

I swear, I had always met the coolest people during my season. I had always had the Most fun I’d had all year, during my season. For years of my life, almost all of my teenager-hood. Not to say that I didn’t have fun, or that I never met new people during the rest of the year, and not to say I hated the rest of the year, because none of that is true. It just so happens, that I made some of the best memories of my life during my season. Because it was my season.

As a matter of fact, I met some of the most important people in my life, some of my favorite people, in the Summertime. I can still remember some of my favorite memories that took place during the summer, with some of the people that I’ll never ever forget.


I make my own seasons, and I love every single one of them, I’m just talking about this 1 specific season today because; as much as I loved it almost all my life, I now equally cannot stand it today. I don’t hate the memories or the friends or even the regrettable adventures, ( I don’t regret even the regrettable, not even for a moment, not even the ones in Randolph 😜 ) .

What I hate is , what it has taken from me.

A friend, an ex lover, 2 lovers, a best friend for life, a pregnancy, a partner in crime, a soulmate and time. That isn’t even the half of it, and I’m sure it’s not done yet.

I can’t say it has been all bad. I was given one of the most precious gift’s on this Earth in February 5 years ago. My LuLu❤️.

There are many many things, many times, many dates, many memories & many people, that I am grateful for and grateful to my season for. I am grateful, grateful for every experience I’ve ever had. Grateful that today is February 28th, 2022 and I’m here at home with my family. I’m not in jail, I’m not gone, I’m not using, I’m not in pain, I’m humble. I’m grateful to and for every day of life, but that is just not what this is about. This is about what I always thought was my time of year.

This is about why I stopped loving my season, the season of February, March and April (&sometimes May) as much as I did 10+ years ago.

I think there have been many of my seasons that have since passed without incident, but I also could be 100% wrong.

I’ve learned to take the good with the bad, to smile when I’m sad, to remember what I’ve got & to remember what I have.


So with that being said, here is what I remember.

February 2010.

The good : This was when my DH & I became us. ‘Twas a little messy at first, and it all started in a dark, cold basement, over a game of strip uno. We were both all over the place at that time, but that was okay, it worked at the time.

The bad: Well, for starters, I had just fully upgraded from pills to H the month before. I was drinking way to much ( which is nothing new). Clearly the two helped get me to this next memory. My first time in Prison. The first time I was wrongfully taken from my child, due to her fathers anger and spite. My first restraining order, a random crazy, party that I crashed, and a *67 prank phone call that I never should have made.

2012 just wasn’t the greatest year all around. i cannot remember anything specific of that atm, but I’m sure I will later when I’m much less distracted. – I just remembered as I was typing up 2013. February 2012 I had relapsed. It was when DCF came along. They intended to take my children away, but they didn’t until that May. 2012 was a really bad time for me all around.

January & February 2013 . Let’s start with New Years Eve. My DH & I had spent the entire month of December in what felt like a dream. We nodded through Christmas and that was when and why I made the decision that brought me to NYE. I made a promise and I kept it… at least for the time. NYE we got high for what I said would be my last time as he drove me to HighPoint, a place that I had often frequented in my many attempts at getting clean. I made it! I did it! I got through Detox& spent the rest of the month next door awaiting a bed at a halfway house. I was really doing it this time! The farthest I had ever gotten. I had a blast in there with the same group of people for a month. We were the “cool kids”, the ones who’d go on to the places & the ones who’d make it. I made it to the island. I was there a month, until someone got drugs & I did NOT DO THEM– I was too busy sneaking in my script of suboxone. But still, she pointed the finger at me and I was kicked out. My season only got worse from there. It was bad. My DH had left & was running harder than he ever had.

When I told him I was home, he came home, and I went right back down with him. My probation officer was looking for me & we were sleeping in our abandoned Gym for 2 weeks. It was bad. When they finally came, they came rolling deep. 13 cop cars, 5 sherif / county cars – it was bad. It ended with me back in a prison cell. That was February 28th 2013.

I spent a month before ending up in the hole for 28 days , when I got out of the hole, they told me I was pregnant. I didn’t get out until June & that was the year I was sent back for a false positive urine & had my baby On Halloween 2013, from Prison. i didn’t get out until late November.

2013 was bad. But February 28th 2013 was my sober date.

February 2014. I suffered what was one of my closest losses at the time.

A love lost. Half a decade of memories taken away in the blink of an eye. Except for, it wasn’t. He wasn’t gone in the blink of an eye.

He was left. He was suffering. He was in and out, until he was just out. That was it. He was gone. And I’d never ever see him again. Every memory we made together, gone with him, only to stay in my mind alone. It feels like they were all just dreams.

It tore me apart at my core. My heart, my soul was crushed. I’d never felt anything like this and it didn’t look good on me.

2015 On February 28th 2015, I was working overnight and after 2 years of hard work, effort, sobriety, love & happiness , I relapsed. It wasn’t until May 15th that my DH took my children and left. It wasn’t until November 1st 2015 that I once again got sober. There were attempts, but none of them as sincere. I was getting my family back. I had done, lost, and given up, way too much at that point.

2016 January 1st my family came home. Except, our home was gone- I had lost it months before, but we needed a new start. Our new place was awful, and we stayed only a month before I realized the cockroaches. February 1st 2016 we were homeless. We stayed in a Motel in a nice area for 3 weeks until we decided to leave the state and head to family in NC. But that didn’t last more than a month & by April we were at my family home in New Hampshire & a month later, I found out I was pregnant again.

2017 January one of my Best friends passed away. One of my longest friends. One of my closest friends. She was gone, and would never get to meet my baby. We would never again play Scattegories or drinking games.

February 2017 I had my amazing little girl. My 4th amazing child, my 3rd perfect little girl. It was one of the best times of my adult life. A milestone for my family. Surrounded by family, living on 80 acres in the middle of nowhere, with our own farm and the closest Walmart a 45 minute drive. As great as it was and as wonderful as we had it there, we decided the kids needed more. I wasn’t able to see or speak to my oldest child, even with all my hundreds of attempts, daily voicemails & texts- as her father turned into the Devil , it had been a year , we needed to move closer. I couldn’t live happily any longer without my girl.

So we moved to the City, now a 40 minute ride rather than 3.5 hours, from my daughter.

Her dad put me through HELL, he made me take a, however many week DIVORCE CLASS ( we were never married) before I could even get a 15 minute phone call. I did what I had to do, and worked up to being back with my oldest daughter. I found out he got married – and once again, he was back on his spite trip, his power trip.

70,128 Hours Without You

70,128 hours. 96 months. 417,4 weeks. 2,922 days. 4207680.0 Minutes. 252460800 Seconds.

8 years?? 8 years…. 2 more children , 4 apartments, 2 houses, 3 states, 6 + Vehicles – hell that last one might be slightly off, but whose counting? Countless losses that I don’t even want to begin listing.. For our generation? …Generations? More than I can count in my head.

One full blown relapse. 4 revolving doors to familiar rehabs & a jagged edged 6 year recovery. [ no this isn’t the 12 days of Christmas Parody ] I should know what the day is. I’ve been waiting for it. Just as quickly as all the other dates that I thoughtlessly count down to come creeping up on me, my mind begins to shut it out. Trying to forget . Lizard brain? Monkey brain? Elephant brain?? Short Term Brain? Grief Brain? Trauma brain? That might take the cake, and even if some of those are not really a thing, it’s what I’m calling it these days.

That might be a part of the reason I didn’t realize it was “the date” today. Even as I wrote it down on the tardy sheet 2xs today, signing my kids in on the 3 minutes “late” mark, (happens more often than I’d like to admit). As many times as I had typed the date into a text message, or as many times as I swiped through my Phone’s Calendar trying to book client’s and schedule Doctors appointments non synchronously in the days before, leading up to today, knowing how close it was. I know what today is, and I knew it was coming.

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I’m still here, and it’s been 8 whole years since you have not been here. It’s been 8 whole years that I’ve dreaded what was once my favorite month.

I’ve outlived you. I’m a year older than you ever were.

How is that possible?

How has the world turned 8 whole times without you?

You were my first lesson in loss. Losing you, showed me what it feels like to lose someone you truly love, that deep kinda love that hurts your soul, even when it is good. It maybe even prepared me for what was yet to come.

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I’ve added Loss to the list of firsts. You were a repeat offender on my first’s list. Not things like, first kiss, first love, first time, first boyfriend… no not those kind of first’s.

First Love & Friend Loss. You were the first Friend I ever lost, and the first Love I ever lost.

First Aff….

Let’s put a pin in that & save that list for another day.

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The first time I ever loved someone so much and had them so fucking Rudely and abruptly taken away from this Plane. I had no idea. I texted you, called you, left voicemails & joked.. asking you to resend that picture… the new Rock??

I knew you’d never willingly leave without notice. That you wouldn’t make plans for Saturday if you knew it wasn’t going to come.

I knew you.

I knew you even if for only 8 years.

We had gone through so much in such a short time, and even though we were not together, I knew you still had that love for me.

I don’t even completely understand how you’ve been gone for the same amount of years as I knew you.

If I’m a year older than you ever got to be, am I older than you now? Are you forever 31?

I love you pxs3, the best friend I’d ever have, the only male version of myself I could ever love.

I’ll never forget our last conversation, just the day before, and will forever ask myself the same questions. Did you know? Were you trying to tell me something? Were you saying Goodbye, See you there? Or was the universe trying to tell me?

We talked about the Devils Throne,& how we’d take it over.. You & I. Promoted ‘King & Queen’ of a world we don’t know exists.

I remember exactly where I was driving at that exact moment. Passing DW Park, sitting at the light, Park to my right.

Smiling ear to ear listening to you talk, laughing together, joking about our happily ever afters. The conversation hadn’t started that way, no not at all even close. When I answered that very last phone call, you were crying... sniffling. Longing to be with your sons for the weekend, even if just for the day. You explained what was happening and how it mimicked what had happened some years before. You told me you couldn’t go through this again. You told me how Evil she was, and warned me to stay away from her cousin. I wish I had have listened…

I Promised you I would be there for you whenever I could, I swore I’d do anything I was able for you, whenever my relationship with your ex best friend allowed. I told you we were fixing things, we had 2 toddlers & a new baby and things at home had just started getting better. I worked my ass off to get to where I was, and I said you could too… but none of that means we cant still be friends. No, We WILL be friends I swore to you, and I would tell him this weekend how I’m going to be there for you. He won’t mind, I promised.

I’m Sorry for missing those calls that night. I’m sorry I didn’t check sooner.

We are unstoppable, & no one can keep us apart, not even the Devil himself. No, we could and would overthrow him.

You were finally Free. For the first time in years, we were Free Simultaneously.

I had been waiting for this for years. Literally. I wanted to be there for you, with you, and this was it. So why? Why did You have to leave? You were once so strong, not only in the physical sense, but mental too.

I wish I could play every single one of our memories on a projector, they were literally some of the most critical times of my life.

I’d have followed you to the end of the world had time allowed. Where Would we be today?

Where are you today? Do you forgive me? Are You Proud?

I gave up everything for you.

#yourajerk

#kingandqueenoftheunderworld

#myfavoriteperson

#firstofmanyfirsts

#iseeyoueverywhere

#thanksforthememories

PS. It was 21 Guns… the Music Video that played on MTV all Summer long. That woke us up to flashing lights & a really aggressive beat Every single time, at 2 – 3 AM. The song that gave us a hangover.

Sources

Source: for converting years to hours, mins, secs, days, weeks, months https://calculat.io/date/converter/hours–8–years

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Mom’s Valentine’s Day 2022..

As I sit here threading gold braided twine through each and every one of The Who knows how many , Valentine’s Day Bookmarks I hurried and began to make at around 6pm… because that’s who I am- I’m that mom- I’m last minute mom, last minute woman . I’m questioning my sanity.

How many of these bookmarks will actually be used??

How many of those time eating bookmarks are gonna be in recycling bins and trash barrels around my town tomorrow??

As you can see, I’ve been busy.

This gives me perspective to share, a different perspective… multiple perspectives.

I’m that mom that carelessly, mindlessly , tosses the 3-4 bags/boxes filled with valentines away each year. Maybe not that day, that month, or even that year…. But eventually, they end up in a land fill from an annual purge.

I am that mom.

I am also the mom scrambling last minute to come up with simple ideas to incorporate into Valentine’s for four different age groups/ four different classes, without candy or snacks / food of any sort.

I’ve got to come up with a valentine, omit the candy hearts. Maybe I don’t have to come up with it, but I do have to follow through with the creating process.

I am the mom who stayed up all night finishing , cutting, tying, d.i.y-ing, cricut-ing .. to make sure each of my children had a bag of unique valentines to pass out to their class. ( Luckily daycare allows certain snacks 🙏🏻🤫🥳)

So tomorrow, Today, if we don’t have a snow day – when our kids run into the house from school, dump their backpacks on the ground, reach for their bag ( or box) filled with a large variety of valentines from each and every one of their classmates – I’m going to remind myself to be more present.

To stop and enjoy going through them with each of my children. Be equally excited.

Not that I’m usually not that way anyways / just sometimes need to stop and remind myself to slow down.

Listen , whether the kids valentines are store bought or hand made, they are usually equally thought out – it’s not something that needs too much effort on any end . Tonight I struggled with computer updates, and software issues , my laptop kept freezing right before go time – my cricut kept eating and tearing the bookmarks right at the very last steps…..

I just wanted to make sure they had something –

And now they do. And I’m exhausted and have my full body bone scan at 930 am today… but I chose to get those valentines done, and I’m not even a little bit mad or upset over it- I’m pumped I got it done.

I’m this mom, I’m that mom, I’m Mom, and they didn’t hand me an instruction manual after any of my births.

Happy Valentine’s Day y’all 😘😍❤️😘

xoxo. Tmom

There’s a little mom truth for today – food for thought .

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

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?

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.

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.

If I kept track of every time I thought about someone…

Saturday August 21, 2021

10:56pm Sitting outside on my “stoop” aka … farmers… porch 🤣😂 – the air changes… the breeze feels stuffy, and all of a sudden it’s not.

I think of you…

I can’t tell you exactly why- it was just like one second you were there, the next you weren’t.

At first an indoor affair came to mind, something that happened in my adult years. Seconds later, a line or 2 into the song, you come to mind. Not the last version of you I saw. The high school, awkward, 8th grade you. Maybe this was a song we listened to together with friends or maybe on one of our blunt cruises..

Next up @ a little past 11pm, still on the same stoop..

I think of you

Not because this song has any consensual significance … but because I’ll never forget you rapping it… https://music.amazon.com/albums/B07V1PSR43?do=play&trackAsin=B07V49TMTN&ref=dm_sh_xxNipT4CFBBOnYFYIt0rHIb8gholy shit… is that The significance??? Is this the same “bands” song from while we were playing drinking games as kids ?

No. I’m wrong.

But at 11:19 …

“ girl run. Run like a track star if mooski ain’t say it better “ – I know booboo , I know coR. & I thank you

Or you’d say something like… ‘ ain’t ni key say it as good as so and so in his last and only hit wonder let me tell you.”

Let me tell you.

A boogie wit a hoodie said it correct when he said “There will never be another you

Always ALWAYS. Mentioning red light special , marvins room, confessions ( let’s say usher period)

“ cuz… let me tell you a little something about MY life a boogie wit a hoodie…