Category Archives: recovery

My vow to my current friends:

I spread my friendship wisdom in a previous post, I mentioned how I didn’t want to make the same mistakes with my current friends. I will do anything to keep these people in my life.

I told you guys about how much my best friend meant to me for sticking by me through all my jail time, hospital, suicide attempts,and my drug drama. No one could mean more to me more than him and I try to make sure he knows it. It’s hard to not walk away sometimes, because before I left New Mexico, I created a heroin monster.

I am moving on with my life in a more healthy way, but he is living the life I lead 5 years ago. I want to  tell him how I got my life right. I offered to pay for him to move here (be nice to be close to my oldest  and best friend) but he always has excuses not to. I can’t completely blame him: he’s an addict. I was one for  almost 10 years.

I know I shouldn’t hold his life and choices hold so heavily on my conscious, but I lost enough people I cared about, and I seriously don’t know how I would deal if I lost him too. I can only offer advice and hope he follows the right path. I can’t brush him off like I did everyone else who was still involved in drugs. I don’t have it in me. He’s the best person I know.

Tom is my other friend (yes, both boys!) we briefly and loosely ‘dated’. We shared a common life experience of almost dying and getting sober and are always there to comfort each other when times get tough. We call each other the “boy/girl” version of the other. His humor is EXACTLY like mine! We can talk about anything from our bowel movements, sex, our weight gain, past drug experiences. We find the same things funny and hes such a sweetheart.

tomI can’t afford to loose my friends. I will stick by them, because that’s what loyal friends do when you love the other!


How my life has changed in the past 18 months:

  • I moved to Arkansas from Albuquerque, New Mexico
  • I got off hard drugs
  • I stopped drinking
  • I stopped smoking
  • I got pregnant

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  • I became okay with not being a size 0
  • I became okay with not being a size 9 after I got pregnant
  • I became okay with going over 200 lbs since I moved and got pregnant


  • I became okay with the fact that most of my weight is baby related and I will bounce back
  • I became determined to finish school–NO MATTER WHAT
  • I became okay with being single and pregnant
  • I became okay with not having many friends
  • I finally can honestly say don’t care what people think or say about me
  • Goals take time, sacrifice  and dedication, it doesn’t fall into your lap (usually)
  • I am ready to ‘settle down’ and move on with these changes

I don’t recognize myself sometimes, but that’s okay! Let’s see what the next 18 ,months have to offer!!


I used to have a bit of stealing problem back in Albuquerque, and when I moved to Arkansas I vowed not to do it again.I haven’t, but I’ve gotten close to do it and really close last week.

I’ve been super paranoid about being a new single mother, I often worry about my money situation. I went grocery shopping and I ran out of money at the self checkout. I thought to myself: “you could easily steal from here. No one would suspect you.”

Last minute, my conscious got the better of me and I returned a six pack of sparkling water and a mini pomegranate tea. The tea was on sale for a.99 cents and It seems so silly because I wasn’t dying of thirst! I returned it to the lady with a “I spaced, I can’t afford to buy these. Here you go…” I walked away and the lady chased me down and gave me the tea and said it was on her.

I was so touched and it reaffirmed that being a good person don’t always go unnoticed. 🙂

How to loose a friend in 10 years

I moved a lot growing up. A lot. I’ve been to 17 different schools in my life, including college. I also grew up an only child. As a result, I would say my childhood was very lonely, and I believe that leaves a lasting affect on the personality.

I always thought that I was a good person and friend. I still believe that–deep down. When you get so heavily involved in drugs, you loose yourself. No matter how much you try to deny it; you are just lying yourself in the end. I was looking through my old photos and realized how many people I called my ‘best friends’ or my ‘bffl’ that most I don’t even speak to anymore. They will all have a lasting place in my heart because they taught me something about myself I wouldn’t of learned otherwise, but when I think of how we ended our ‘best’ status, it was always my decision.

My best friends:

Michael P.


We were so close and he was easily my greatest friend and the most toxic. Even when he moved to Baltimore after he got into serious legal trouble in NM we kept in touch. We met in high school when I was 16 or 17.

I visited for spring break 2014 for 4 days.Worst trip ever. He was still a serious addict and was so mean and volatile and and was actually working for the police as a snitch. No way…no matter how long I’ve been sober and out of trouble, I don’t fuck with that

Jade B.


My other best friend. I met in when I was 15 and we were inseparable until I got out of the hospital in 2010 and found out she was on a very different path than I wanted to go down again and out of anger because she didn’t want to kick with me all crippled, I lashed out and cut our friendship. We talk now, but she’s more of an acquaintance. She’s doing super good and I’m super proud. 🙂

Brittney B.


This is the only person who chose not to be MY FRIEND over my attitude and baggage. Go her. I miss her though. We followed each other to 4 different jobs after high school.

Courtney E.


I loved this girl, I finally felt like I had a real friend who understood me and we connected instantly and we had something good until I broke the unbreakable girl code rule # 1.

Long story short, I fucked up on a lot of friendships and these can never be salvaged again, and I never want to make those same mistakes with my friendships I currently still have.


A lot of times, the best pieces of poetry and novels are written when the author is going through extreme emotional or traumatic pain. It’s rare, at least for me to find a good piece of work written when someone is in a sort of joyous state. When I was younger, I wrote a lot of poetry and short stories. Believe it or not, I won a few awards and was published a few times. I wrote to escape my life that, at the time and in retrospect, was a hard upbringing. I will always stick to the fact that I wouldn’t change a single thing, because it made me a better and more resilient person. I wear my scars like a badge of honor because it takes a special person to rise out of what I’ve been through.

It’s hard overcome what I went through and the many things a child should never see. My escape was always writing. I was a friendless, lonely, only child with a lot of stories so I began writing my autobiography when I was 10 because I had enough; it was originally saved on a floppy disk. It’s over 900 pages of pages that I’ve never re-read because I’m too afraid of resurrecting feelings that I’d rather stay oppressed. I was a sensitive child, sensitive teen and now I still am as an adult, regardless of my trials. I’m too old to be embarrassed of my true feelings.

Ever since I moved to Arkansas, I remain secluded in fear of repeated everything that caused drama in my life that stemmed from surrounding myself with all the wrong people and extra curricular activities. I’ve change my ways for the most part, but there is a lot of damage that was instilled in me and that combined with my addictive personality is really hard to rise above.

Now that I’m almost two years sober, 30 weeks pregnant and lonely, I had my test seeing if I was worthy of both my impending accomplishments. Life is testing me to see if I would seek out drugs to mask my pain, instead I began writing. I lack coping skills for these situations, although I didn’t think so until now, but writing really is a good outlet for my feelings just like how it always as been. I’m also grateful I have the most loving and sensitive cat, Jackson. ❤ I’m so lucky.

Just keep swimming.…one day at a time.

5 years

On January 23, 2010, I went into a coma–for a month and half. I had died 3 separate times. My fMRI and CT scans showed no brain activity; my family had been told that if I did wake up, I’d be in a permanent vegetative state. Essentially they were forced to make the tough decision to disconnect my ventilator, instead I thankfully woke up 5 hours before this was supposed to of taken place.

I had to re-learn everything! How to breath on my own , talking, eating and walking. That was the hardest thing I ever had to do in my life. You don’t realize how much work goes into everyday things you don’t even have to think twice about doing. I am so blessed to have been given a second opportunity to just be  able to move my legs again.  It’s crazy to be told at 20 there is was a good chance I would never walk again. The brain and body are truly amazing and inspiring specimens.

In retrospect if I could take it back, I honestly wouldn’t. The only thing I regret about the entire ordeal was putting my loved ones though so much hardship. It was even more painful for me considering my family had to make a similar decision for my brother when he was also 20.

I gained too much invaluable experience through it all though. Instead, I’m proud because going though so much shit, and I’m still here and able to tell my story that it makes me feel special. Morbidly special, but I learned to be okay with feeling miracle-y.

If I ever think something is too hard or try to convince myself to give up, I force myself to recall that time in my life. I have wanted to give up so many times and even went as far as wanting to commit suicide because it was too physically and emotionally painful to teach myself  to be the average young adult again. (This was especially true after my insurance dropped me, and I had to join a gym and do it myself with the help of the internet. Shout out to Planet Fitness and Google!)

Anything is possible with determination and initiative.  My body and mind are too resilient to let go to waste to just give up. So when someone says I can’t do something, like raising a baby by myself, I’ll prove them wrong just like I did to  that so-called-Doctor.


Thanksgiving from Hell

I went with my parents to Houston for Thanksgiving break to reunite with my moms side of the family. HUGE MISTAKE! More on that on another blog. Everything was great, I was catching up having a good time, when I got a call from my OBGYN office saying my blood test results were in, and they called my pharmacy to up my hypothyroid medication. I figured this because I’ve been total scatter brained and exhausted most of my pregnancy, no surprise there.

Two days passed, and I got a second call saying another lab came back showing an excessive amount of antibodies that fight hepatitis C. They told me not to worry because during pregnancy the body does strange things, and that I should come in ASAP for additional blood tests to ensure I do not suffer from this and if I do, what my next steps should be.

I couldn’t believe my ears! Hep C. After being an intravenous user for a decade, there was always a likely chance I could develop it. When I got arrested, I got checked. Negative. Then just to be extra careful, I got checked again late last year. Same results. I hope this is just a prego fluke because obviously I don’t want my first present to my child to be a disease, but I also do not want to have another thing to remind me of the shitty choices I’ve made.

I go in for additional testing Monday, Dec. 1st. Wish me luck!


18 months, 4 days :)

After suffering from a severe heroin addiction for almost 10 years, I’m proud to say that as of 4 days ago, I got 18 months heroin free. I say heroin free because sobriety would be a lie. I have had a problem with almost every single drug and drink I could get my hands on since I was 8 years old, but when I tried heroin for the first time I knew that it was  like nothing I had ever had. I used to describe heroin as “the love of my life” because no man, cat or other drug could ever be more important, and it had stuck around longer than most people, animals or objects in my life.

I had tried to seriously get sober around year 8 of my addiction.

After trying several times to get sober, it grew harder and began to hurt more and more. It lasted longer, I sweated more, I puked more often, I slept less, I lost 80 pounds. I hated myself more and more every time I quit. Ever time was living a straight month in hell if it was without Suboxone. When I did it cold turkey, I was in jail, or when Suboxone was so hard to come by on the streets.

I tried NA several times, but it was really hard to go without being really high. I was just a straight addict. I finally had been hit with my first felony, which was huge hit to my ego that my life finally caught up with me. I couldn’t even make it past pre-trial before a warrant was put out for my arrest for many failed drug tests, and I turned myself in (of course baring many gifts to help me get commissary).

This repeated several more times until I got arrested for grand larceny, and I had a warrant out for my arrest. I, of course, got lost in the jail system, spending several months in a room with girls that I couldn’t keep up with physically or mentally. I realized the more sober I became, I was different from every girl there, and I could never go back. I didn’t belong there.

I was blessed to have a higher education, I was more mature, I had a loving family and had an actual shot at a good life when I was wasn’t wasting it in a needle. I had an epiphany after three months  of not even a court date, and I decided it was because I had just been planning on how I would get high again the entire time.

I have always believed everything happens for reason, and at that point when transport failed to get me the day of my third court date, that this was payment for all those years I had gotten away with all my sins and evil deeds. This was karma. My karma.

I had finally got released after 6 months and went to stay at my parents old house that was on the market, I had already planned to follow my parents here to Arkansas to escape my life of crime and drug abuse. I just needed to say bye to Shane. My Shane.

I went to NA the day before I got arrested, and was able to not pass out to finally earn my first sobriety tag. I felt guilty for it for obvious reasons.  Although I like what Narcotics Anonymous stands for, it ended up feeling more like a  trigger the more I started to go, so I stopped and that’s finally when I was able to move forward without thinking of heroin, even though it took me 9 months into complete sobriety to just feel okay about my new life. I kept the tag as a symbol because it was the start of a new, better life. Getting free from the grips of heroin  was the best decision I ever had the strength to make.

“Nothing in the world is worth having or worth doing unless it means effort, pain, difficulty… I have never in my life envied a human being who led an easy life. I have envied a great many people who led difficult lives and led them well.”

-Teddy Roosevelt




One of my really good friends, Beth, had her second child on November 4, 2014 at 8:47 weighing in at 5 lbs 14 ounces in Virginia. I was so happy for her and her little family. She had been trying to conceive with her husband for awhile after her 1st had escaped the extremely younger years and  little bugger finally happened, then was finally born.

I didn’t always approve of Beth and Josh getting married, because it was so quick and I guess I’m a little closed minded to shotgun weddings. I always felt guilty for not going  to their wedding, but I had always said it was because I didn’t support it, how awful that must have been. The real reason is I had forgot, and I was busy getting high.  How could I do that? Good thing she is understanding and when I finally was able to openly admit it to her this past year (shes been married 6 years), and she was nothing short of thankful for the explanation. Phew!

Congrats to my friend!! XoXo!

The view from here

I’ve been trying to get more acquainted with Arkansas in order to “fall in love with it.” I don’t want to make myself miserable the entire time, and I really do believe there is beauty in everything if you look hard enough…especially in things you dislike.

When I was an addict, I looked at the world very negatively. I attribute this as a reflection to how I felt about myself for being an addict. I hated everything about myself, I was so angry and resentful when I was using. I lied, I stole, I manipulated and that was a far cry from the straight A, perfect, polite child I was raised to be. I felt guilty for abandoning my family and friends in that way. That person, I can never be again, but I’ve made significant progress in a positive direction.

When I first moved here, I hated it, but I knew it was something that resonated inside of me from my decade of addiction. I knew if I tried to view it as an opportunity to try something I never would have otherwise done, I could open myself up for more enjoyment.

I’ve previously admitted, I find very little things exciting about Arkansas.  It really has nothing to do with Arkansas, but my particular interests. The years that were dedicated to developing my interests and skills, were spent getting high and getting in trouble. I grew to accept that as fun. I moved here because I knew heroin wasn’t around Arkansas. That it was wholesome and some place I could stay alive and out of jail.

One thing I have always have liked everywhere I lived (New Mexico, Texas, North Carolina, Puerto Rico) were the unique landscapes of each place.  That was exciting enough, so I try to take pictures of things I find beautiful here to help me “fake it until I make it.”