In Case of Emergency – Twirl in a Field.

In case of emergency –¬†freak the fuck out.

Lately, I’ve been insanely busy with life. And I mean EVERYTHING that life entails.¬†Everyone and their mother has been so far up my ass, I couldn’t tell you where they start, and I begin. Football games for my little boogerman, bake sales causing encounters with my arch nemesis, job interviews from Hell, and slight misconceptions of what I can physically handle.

I haven’t written on this blog in quite some time, trying to get my other one off the ground, but I must say I MISS YOU ALL. Adulting is Hard, period. (But, if you haven’t checked it out yet – it’s right HERE. Subscribe, comment, or seethe with hatred. Either or.)

So, here’s some absolute shit that has been happening in the life of Misty lately.

I’ve been sober for 6 months and some change (Thank you, sweet baby Jesus) and so far, so good. I haven’t had insanely overwhelming urges to go use, which is surprising because everywhere I look, I see people relapsing.

Overdosing.

Dying.

It physically hurts to see this. Diva called me the other day telling me all about how a close family friends son was released from jail, and immediately went and got a bundle of dope. A few moments later, he overdosed – his friend who was with him, passed away while he laid there unconscious.

I can’t imagine how he’s feeling right now. The guilt. The shame. The absolute grief that overwhelms the body and soul. The inner battle of using again just to make the feelings go away..

I become so consumed in the feeling of being blessed, I can’t help but fall to my knees, and thank God for the second chance, and for my family who has stuck by my side even in my darkest hour. But in just one second I could be right back in that spot where I was.

In that familiar darkness. The never ending hole of despair, my nails bleeding from trying to climb out, my soul crushed and barely hanging on.

The trick to staying sober, is embracing your addictive tendencies. Kind’ve like, ‘keep your friends close, but your enemies closer’.

My advice would be this…

Keep it on the surface and never, ever, let it be pushed down and ignored. It’s a serious disease. I’ve come to the brink of death dozens of times, and you would think I would’ve just have been like “Ah, well apparently this shit is dangerous, so I’ll just – you know, stop.”

If you were in a car accident every time you stepped in the car, would you drive again? Or would you say, fuck that death trap of metal, and walk your happy ass to where you needed to go? Exactly. A car would be the enemy. Your kryptonite. The one thing that could take you out in a seconds notice. You know this. You accept it, and you avoid it.

Why can’t addicts do the same?

I can’t give you the answer to that. I honestly do not know who can. All I know is, is that I’m embracing who I am, and dealing with it every single day. I’m breathing it, living it, and trying my hardest to come to peace with it.

Do I base my life around my addiction? Yes. Yes, I do. Think I’m going to go to the bar with some old friends because its one of their birthdays and they invited me? No. That’s like someone who’s allergic to pollen walking through a field of flowers in spring, twirling and singing like the girls do in tampon commercials.

It’s just unrealistic. When I’m on my period, I’m in sweats and swimming in my sea of blankets, all the while shoving chocolate and Doritos in my mouth. Not to mention, in between chomps I’m nagging at the fiance for leaving the toilet seat up or not clipping his toe nails to my liking.

You’re twirling in a skirt in a field? I’m twirling my hair in my fingers trying to figure out how I got Cheetos dust in it when I clearly haven’t eaten those cheesy, crunchy gods in 4 days.

Pickin’ up what I’m throwin’ down?

I hope so. Because, this Adulting shit is exhausting.

After darkness, the light follows.

I am the poster child for procrastinating my life away. At 29, I’ve accomplished basically nothing besides my sobriety, and giving birth to an absolutely amazing little boy who has the world at his fingertips.

Regrets are huge in the addiction recovery lifestyle, causing most addicts to continue using – the weight of the guilt overpowering the will to become clean and start fresh.

Honestly, I do have some regrets (who the hell doesn’t?), but mostly I am grateful for where, and who I am now. If it wasn’t for my crazy, horrible past, I wouldn’t be the strong-minded woman that I am today. My struggles and past experiences are a part of me, no matter how shitty they were, no matter how hard I wish that they weren’t, they aren’t going anywhere. Personally, I find it’s better to embrace them then try to fight against something that cannot be changed.

At 17, I was in a tragic car accident which left 2 of my friends permanently disabled.. I had survivors guilt for a long time, since mentally, I was fine. Or so I thought. I’ve broken more bones than most. I’ve fallen off cliffs, I’ve been homeless, and I’ve been in more trouble with the law than any respectable mother should ever be. I’ve lost friends to overdoses, to freak accidents, and to suicide because of their addictions… It’s a wake-up call every single time.

The turning point of my pointless existence happened when I found God – not when I hit rock bottom. I had hit that years ago. Shit, I lived there for 6 years. For a long time I resented what happened in my life, and couldn’t follow someone who was supposed to be my ‘savior’, supposed to ‘shield me from evil’. Where was he when I needed him? THAT was the damn question that continuously went unanswered.

Until recently.

When I was in inpatient, I was withdrawing so horribly I couldn’t sleep, my arms and legs were restless, my skin crawling constantly, and I was so damn exhausted from the chase.

The chase of getting the money everyday to get what I needed, the chase of finding the drug, the chase of that initial feeling of carelessness that you experienced when you first started. I needed something else in my life. Something was definitely missing.

Something big.

I laid there thrashing, and looked over at the night stand and saw the Bible. In a last attempt to get some sort of sleep for sanity, I begged Him to take away the pain and to help me get some peace. Some fucking rest. I pleaded, I sobbed. I snotted. I have never felt so low and pathetic as I did that night.

Amazingly, a few moments later, I was fast asleep – dried tears stained my face, and when I woke, I was still gripping the Bible like it was the hand of God itself… If that’s not a sign I needed faith in my life, I don’t know what is.


Now, I wake up every morning with a new found sense of ambition. This inner light that I can literally feel with every breath I take..

It’s about damn time, because I’ve been in the dark for far too long; it is indeed my time to shine.