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I Should've Known the Second I Woke up With Half My Head of Hair Missing

I Should've Known the Second I Woke up With Half My Head of Hair Missing

I should've known the second I woke up with half my head of hair missing.  

Tufts of locks blowing around the room like little tumbleweeds that you see in old western movies before the shootout scene commences.  I should’ve known this fuck up was warning me of the hard years ahead. “Run away”, the wind whispers, “Run away as fast as you can and never look back.”  The reality of what happened sinks in. I look in the mirror and I swear I look like Gollum from "Lord of the Rings”. As I looked in the mirror, at this stranger, I couldn’t remember a goddamn thing.  My mind starts racing.   “What the fuck happened?  Why did I do this to myself?”  I would later learn that, in a blackout rage, I had what some would call a mental breakdown.

Where the Fuck Is That Guy with the Drugs? 

Where the Fuck Is That Guy with the Drugs? 

I’m feeling the way I always do when I’m out and about doing drugs and drinking alcohol.  I’m swaying back and forth. I’m feeling awkward because that last line of cocaine I did is starting to wear off and there’s no more alcohol in the house.  “I need something,” I think to myself.  Where the fuck is that guy with more coke?  He said he’d be back soon with more drugs. My heart is beating with the music, fast and upbeat.  I look around the party and there’s all sorts of colorful people.  There’s a girl with red hair, a black guy with no lenses in his glasses, and a tall skinny awkward guy trying to dance.  I’m trying to enjoy myself, like I always do, but something doesn’t feel right. I feel this gnawing in my stomach. I need more drugs.  That’s it, I just need more drugs.  Where the fuck is that guy with the drugs?  

This is my beautiful life.  I hate it sometimes, but it’s mine and I’m going to keep it. 

This is my beautiful life.  I hate it sometimes, but it’s mine and I’m going to keep it. 

I wanted to go back. I wanted to touch the grass where everything started to go to shit. That night when the air was so thick with fog, I could feel the dampness of the air in my lungs. That night I left myself there on the sun bleached grass that pricked my skin like little needles. The night I got lost forever. 

The Dirt, the Grime, the Heart Ache, the Not Knowing, the Horror, the Angst, the Fear, It's All so Beautiful.

The Dirt, the Grime, the Heart Ache, the Not Knowing, the Horror, the Angst, the Fear, It's All so Beautiful.

Hello this is Officer.... that is all I hear.  

My vision shrinks to the size of a pinhole.  The sound that comes after sounds like a muffled horn.  I can’t feel my body, time slows down; it’s almost as if time doesn’t exist.  I'm standing on an empty highway, the air is thick with dew and fog, red and blue lights flashing in my peripheral.  In front of me there are two mangled cars. I'm surrounded by police officers; I can't hear anything anyone’s saying.   All I can feel is my heart thumping in my chest, filling my ears with such loud thuds it's almost nauseating. I feel condensation start to form on my palms from all the anxiety filling my chest.  

Feeling No Longer Dirty at 30 With VibeWithMolly / VibeWithMommy

Feeling No Longer Dirty at 30 With VibeWithMolly / VibeWithMommy

I want to start off by saying that I can't stop crying.  I did it.  I'm 30 years old.  I've had a baby, I've finally figured out why I've been using drugs and treating myself and others the way I have for the past 15 years, and I faced the moment in my life that changed everything.  I had been refusing to think about, talk about or relive it since it happened.  

Drugged, Raped and Blamed Is the Name of the Game With VibeWithMolly / VibeWithMommy

Drugged, Raped and Blamed Is the Name of the Game With VibeWithMolly / VibeWithMommy

Drugged, Raped and Blamed Is the Name of the Game.

This was the night I lost my childlike view of the world.  This is the night I lost faith in others.  This is what sparked my hatred for men.  This is the night I first tried "alcohol" and this is the night I lost my virginity.  This is where my mess all began.  So if my mess is my message, then this is where my purpose lives.           

You know what's fucked up?  I think about this.  I think about this situation everytime I’m sober and alone.  When there is nowhere left for me to hide; I am here.  I am pressed up against the chain link fence, bra exposed, jeans pulled down around my ankles and consciousness fading in and out.  This is where I live when I’m alone.  My mind takes me back to that day.  My body follows and my sense of self starts to disappear.  

The AfterMETH

The AfterMETH

So I’m embarking on a journey of self realizing shit.  I ordered Mastin Kipp’s “Claim Your Power: A 40-Day Journey to Dissolve the Hidden Blocks That Keep You Stuck and Finally Thrive in Your Life’s Unique Purpose”.  It’s basically a 40 day self discovery class.  I’m only on day 8 and a big part of what he talks about is how our past traumas are the things that get in our way of truly living our purpose.  “Hell yeah”, I thought to myself.  I definitely have some past shit that has defined who I am today.  As I’m working through the pages of Mastin Kipp’s book I start to see.  I start to see how much pain I’ve been living in.  I start to see where it all began.  It’s becoming so clear.  It’s wild, why haven’t I sat down and dealt with any of this?  Maybe because I always felt that it was too painful to revisit?  Oh, I almost forgot, I’ve been drunk ever since.

Stop, Put Down Your Phone and Be Afraid.

Stop, Put Down Your Phone and Be Afraid.

Stop, put down your phone and be afraid.

Something happened to me the other day.  Something clicked.  I felt release.  I released something that has been holding me down.  I realize me stressing about it and worrying about it was giving it power.  I was letting it win; win my life.  I want to take my life back.  I'm in control of my life.  I'm in control of my thoughts.  I'm in control of how I react in certain situations and I get to decide what makes me happy.