Chapter Three

Chapter Three:

I think the most out of control part of my life was the next several years, from the age of 18 to about 21. I skipped around different places living and never stayed anywhere for to long. I finally hooked up with some old high school friends and that is where I met my first husband T. I can’t tell you till this day what attracted me to him. He was very selfish, egotistical, and didn’t really care about much in life either, I guess like me? He was four years older than me. We started dating and before I knew it, we were living together at his moms house. He would basically go out to the bars all night and I would be stuck in his room because I was to young. That is how most of our early relationship went. After about six or seven months we moved into an apartment and I got a job at Sonic. This is where I met J, sweet in her own way, but just as troubled as me. We hit it off from day one. While T would go out at night partying at the bar until 6 in the morning, I would hang out with J and smoke weed. At first it started off at weed only. Then one day our manager at Sonic introduced me to something much worse, cocaine and eventually crank. I remember the first time trying those drugs and feeling like I could walk on the clouds, nothing could touch me, I didn’t have any fears, any anger, any hurt, just a perfect world  in front of me. During this the next few years I was into drugs DEEP. It was a daily thing and I was also in the position on being around bigger drug dealers with big quantities of drugs and a lot of money. That was a very scary situation now that I look back and think of all the things that could have happened to me during that time, but I just didn’t care one way or the other.  I felt like I was just an empty shell existing at times. T and I were always SO broke and giving plasma to buy cigarettes, (yes the typical stereotype of a druggie, that is what we were). I was at my all time low weight of about 105 lbs and being 5’7 with bags under my eyes from no sleep for days, but still holding down a full time job. It was bad. Really bad.

As you all know I have a daughter that will soon be 17 (in July) so you know she fits into this story line pretty soon. This is the hardest part for me to write about. I have felt so much guilt over the years and I will continue to feel guilt until the day I die.

I WAS THAT “STEREOTYPICAL DRUGGIE GIRL THAT GOT PREGNANT” Yes the one that every single infertile person hates.

I remember being really late for my period and taking a test and it was VERY positive. Being only 20, I was so excited I was having a baby. I did quit every single drug that day and never took any drugs during my pregnancy. I was still scared that she would be deformed and messed up because obviously I was on drugs during conception and a few weeks into the pregnancy. I am not sure how long though. I didn’t end up going to see a doctor until January and I got pregnant in October. We had to go through the health department because we didn’t have a pot to piss in. Barely making rent, T still smoking pot daily and going to the strip clubs at night. I always knew I would be a horrible mother. How could I be a mother to a baby and not every have anyone teach me how to do this? I was told over and over that it would come natural, but it didn’t. It never did. Not by any lack of trying. To make matters worse I smoked cigarettes all throughout my pregnancy and though by cutting down to lights that I had fixed the problem. Seriously, what the fuck was wrong with me? The guilt. I never really worried much later in pregnancy. I never worried about a miscarriage. After we found out it was a girl and healthy, I never thought much about it. I guess it was my time to play house. I never knew how hard it would be. When C was born, she weighed 6lbs 14 ½ oz and was 21 inches long and healthy. I soon screwed up again after she was born. She was about a week old and my old friend J showed up. I hadn’t seen much of her when I was pregnant because I quit all the drugs. She came over my house to visit us and baby. We went out on the porch and she brought out a joint. I took three hits of it.

What happens next has caused me to have so many nightmares throughout my life and I would take it all back if given the chance. This is what makes me the biggest asshole in the world.

We went into the house and I picked C up out of her basinet so my friend could hold her and in mid air I dropped her. Thank whatever force out there that was looking over us that day, but my friend caught her. I lost it. Completely lost my shit and couldn’t believe what I had just done. What kind of mother gets high with a new baby? A selfish one who obviously doesn’t care about anyone but herself. I asked my friend to leave and called T’s mom to come over and sit with baby.  I went to my room and slept off the high. That was the LAST time for a very long time that I ever picked up weed again. After that night I tried to bond and be a good mom. I always felt myself getting so frustrated because T was never there to help me and I was alone and overwhelmed. As the next two years went on we moved back to my old town near my dad and sister and they helped me with C so much. T never gave up smoking pot, going to strip clubs or staying out all night so I filed for divorce when C was two. (the same time my mom and dad divorced).