Thursday, November 7, 2019


Ever since I was a child I loved to read. I devoured books at a very young age and was quickly reading above my grade level. I remember living in Panama City, Florida and having writing prompts where we could write whatever fiction or reality we wanted. I always chose fiction. I could spread my wings and become something completely new. I remember when they'd test us, I'd make really high marks in my stories. I can't remember exactly when it changed but the prompts started being on more specific things, the tone of a passage you had read, less creativity. I hated it. I stopped writing as much but I still read often.

I remember watching the movie Harriet the Spy and falling in love with her. I got my black and white composition notebook and wrote down everything about everyone. When I was happy or mad, details of what was happening around me no matter how dull they may seem, maybe they'd be important later. During this time we were preparing to move to Wichita Falls, Tx. It would be the first of many big moves I could remember. Already in my life, we had moved twice but I was too young for it too make a huge difference in my life. Here I had friends. I was angry and I wrote it down. I wrote ugly things about my parents and one day at a party at one of our family friend's house from the church I left my notebook out and some nosey woman picked it up and read it. Ignoring all the other wonderful things I had written, or so I thought, she targeted the negative and told my mother. I obviously had not gotten the moral of the story in Harriet the Spy where she had lost all of her friends because of the things she wrote without regard to their feelings of what they read.

I don't remember when I stopped reading all the time but I know I kept a journal for years to come, up until the past couple of years actually, minus sporadic entries here and there. I guess Facebook became more of an outlet for that which is gross to think about. Around that time I was also more into my phone, most of my high school, even though I had a phone it wasn't as addictive as it is today. I started only reading things on my phone, for the most part, reading maybe a book or two a year and writing more nonfiction, thinking I could become a journalist. That's the kind of story I should tell. I really wanted to be nonbias though, give people information and let them come up with what they thought about it. I've written so many articles as a ghostwriter for other people but have never had any published under my name. I have done videos though and worked with channels like The Notice and Youvolution to put out content.

I still want to put out content. I still want to create fictional stories but I also want to write the truth as well, informative pieces. I want to be convincing. I'm worried about how divisive our country is. I'm worried about not being able to communicate effectively the severity of situations because I'm not able to retain the information I'm taking in. I'm going to start working on pieces like that, about the environment and climate change, but also about solutions and agorism. I also want to tell my story and what has happened to me to shape the person I am. I also want to keep going out and recording actions and protests and speeches and life.

I'm still figuring things out but this morning one of my favorite authors, Octavia Butler, nudged me in a direction I've been going in for a while and made it feel more tangible. I hate to bring up alcohol but it has really affected my mind. I hasn't helped me procrastinate less. It's become a crutch in social situations and when talking to people. I'm happy to be without it and happy to see where my brain will grow from being away from it.

I am a writer...and so many other things.

Wednesday, November 6, 2019

I am not my addiction.

I struggle with substances. My parents didn't drink. Science says I have a gene that makes me predisposed to liking different drugs.

I use to just be a pot head. That was easy. No harm there but in the land of the free and home of the brave it was a crime that led to incarceration which led to probation which led to intoxication because you can't drug test for booze unless you've been drinking the day before. 17 years old and on probation for a drug that is legal in how many states now? A drug that has had men and women, vast majority black and brown, behind bars.

I struggle with substances. I loved Lucy. She gave the world a beautiful filter and made me feel like I was from another planet. She connected me to a beautiful boy who loved her too much and got sick and left this world to be in the kaleidoscope sky forever. She made me believe that I could save this planet, the one that we are killing with our consumerism and extraction, that I was here for a purpose. Ken Kesey saw the beauty in her, he wanted to share her with the world instead of only keeping it for the "elite", not really elite though, they're fucking predators.

I struggle with substances. I've been ripped from my home more times than a kid should ever be. Back before cell phones and facebook, so when you lost touch you lost touch. I still made good grades but I was angry. I'd huff stupid shit to get a temporary high.

I struggle with substances. Alcohol has turned me into a monster that has destroyed any loving relationship with a partner I have EVER had. Nobody wants to love a monster. It's too hard. It's destructive, they need to protect themselves. I don't blame them. We all need to protect ourselves.

I struggle with substances. Riding in a car on the way to a protest in Chicago and getting a phone call from a good friend of mine asking if I remembered what had happened the night before. I didn't. He proceeded to tell me how he had to pull our friend off me while I was passed out on the bed from Ambien because he was touching me. The "friend" went into the living room and sexually assaulted our friend on the couch that night too.

I struggle but I am not my addiction.

I am a kind person who feels for people. Our world isn't balanced and so many of us are hurting and have been hurt and we need to fix ourselves but it's hard to find the healthcare to do it and it's hard to communicate with others because we don't know how to talk to each other because the world wants us divided. They want us divided.

Some of you reading this may think I share too much, I think I've said it before in one of these posts but it's how I'm healing. Sharing my story and what's happened to me and who I am is an outlet for me. If you don't like it, don't click it. It isn't met for you. I write about this because I know even though I feel so fucking lonely and am trying to use the word alone and that's okay, that there are others out there just like me.

You are not alone.
You can get better.
You are strong.
You are not your addiction.

I believe in you.

Tuesday, November 5, 2019

Small Wins

I've been having a hard time adjusting to being in New Jersey and it's literally been 5 days and I need to stop putting so much pressure on things. It's time. All the time I keep thinking about having left until I can go back home. The time I have to myself to think of all the things I could have done differently. Time to get lost in thoughts that serve no positive purpose.

I wrote a tear-filled post yesterday and intended to post it today but instead, am going to talk about the wins I have. The things that are good and will keep me going through this because I'm luckier than most and can't forget that.

I get to see my little brother who I haven't seen in years this week, along with a bunch of other family in Tennessee. I have a good friend and roommate back home who knows how much this is hurting me and is doing their best to stay connected to me in one of the hardest ways in the world for them, fucking text. I live within 2 miles of a library that so far has had every book I've wanted ALREADY THERE. I just applied at a spot by my house cooking, where I can ride to and go in for my interview and they were very excited to have me come in and apply. I can kayak whenever I want. I have a smart recovery group I can go to. I have fucking goals, achievable goals to get back home and healthy. Then the biggest one is my parents. The ones who have opened up their home and let me come and work on myself without judgment but without enabling me, who have gone above and beyond to make sure I'm okay. Who love me and have seen me at my worst. Both sets of parents have cared for and loved me and I'm grateful.

I still cry all the time. I'm getting better at hiding it or getting lost in a book, starting my third one today since I got here, gotta love Octavia Butler.

Monday, November 4, 2019


I've never experienced this before in my life. Not loneliness or being alone, like basically everyone I have experienced that on more occasions than I'd like to think about. I've never had a community tell me I need to leave because they need space away from me. Later, I'll go into details of all of that but this is about understanding that and coping with that.

I've been working in my Dialectical Behavior Therapy Skills workbook which I was told would help those who have borderline personality disorder, as well as others who have just struggle with controlling their emotions. That is a big one for me, my main control of emotions in the past has been substance abuse which doesn't control anything, it makes things worse for myself and everyone else around me.

A recent tool I picked up was called REST which is an acronym meaning Relax, Evaluate, Set an intention, Take action. In relaxing you're "doing your best to remind yourself that you have an opportunity to behave differently."p9 I've put this into practice for things that have happened in the past and how it could have worked differently.

The other main one is radical acceptance which in this move has literally only been 4 days now but has been tearing my heart apart, is changing my attitude and being able to better tolerate distressing situations, "being overly judgemental of a situation or overly critical of yourself or others often leads to more pain, missed details and paralysis."p14 Which is true.

This leads to me to the two sessions I did with a kind friend in Austin who gifted me two EFT sessions which stands for emotional freedom technique. She told me in that room it wasn't about others, it was about me and how I am internally and how I can be better and the person I want to be. Our first session had tapping on meridian points on the forehead, chest, side rib area, and hand. She also did what she called shadow work which was going through my mind essentially guided by her but using metaphors which were incredibly helpful.

We did another exercise where we talked about this negative thing inside of me and what it looked like and for me that was easy. If any of you are close to me you've heard me bring up Sarai, especially in terms of drinking. But it was clear to me that she was one negative aspect of my life. In the session, through questions, I realized that she hadn't always been with me and for some reason, I had never thought of that before. I honestly had started to consider her an alter of sorts, an alter ego, and it was terrifying. Through tapping and positive affirmations and other words spoken out loud, I realized she came into my life when I really needed her.

TW: Abuse

When I was close to 19 years old I was dating a man named JoAnthony. At first, he was very sweet and loving but that relationship quickly turned to an abusive one. I was terrified when I heard loud cars because he had a very loud car. He would punch me and kick me if he got upset. Eventually, the catalyst was me eating a few mushrooms one day and at first, having an amazing trip, he wasn't around or anything, then my roommate came home and she was upset that there weren't any more mushrooms which led me into a bad trip. I felt really sick, I tried to take a shower. I tried to sleep but nothing would help. Eventually, my phone starts ringing and I see it's Jo. I don't answer but he keeps calling over and over and over. I was terrified. I knew if he found out I'd eaten mushrooms he would hurt me so I got in my car and started driving away from my house. Nobody knew I had left.

As I'm driving and pull out of my neighborhood I see a car pull up super fast behind mine and I think, "I'm  getting pulled over by the cops!" But no sirens come on, nothing. Quickly I realize it's Jo. He is so close he is almost hitting my car with his. I turn down a well-lit road that had a bunch of shops and should have pulled in there but I wasn't thinking clearly. I was still tripping and I couldn't comprehend what was happening. I drive into a side neighborhood and he gets next to me with his car and starts nudging my car with his. Pushing my car. I slam on my breaks and scream, "Okay! I'll park. Just stop." I pull into a side street and frantically grab for my phone, he gets out of his car and my window was cracked a tiny bit and he lunged his arm inside pulling my hair to the window and unlocking the door. He pulls me out of the car by my hair and slams my face into the asphalt. He then starts kicking me over and over and over and I just start screaming hoping someone will come outside. He grabs my hat and phone throws it into a gutter, he grabs my car keys and grabs me by my hair again and drags me into his car.

 He starts driving into the middle of nowhere, blood is dripping down my face and it's hard to see, I start to plead with him saying I can't see, please pull over, I won't tell anyone. Please. We lived in a small town at the time so driving into the middle of nowhere didn't take to long. I started to think I was going to have to crash the car. I was about to pull the steering wheel really hard to roll the car when he slammed on his breaks and told me to get out. I did and he took off and I took off running in the other direction as fast as I could thinking he was going to come back and hit me with his car.

I walked for hours until I saw lights of cars passing a somewhat busy road up ahead. I was too scared to knock on a neighbors door because the houses were so far apart and they all had no trespassing signs and it was 3 or 4 in the morning, I was tripping mushrooms and profusely bleeding from my head. I got to the main street and started trying to wave cars down and eventually an older Mexican man stopped and instead of taking me to the police station or to the hospital, he took me home.

After that night I started drinking heavily, Sarai showed up and when she was around I didn't give a shit about anyone. I had to get my keys from Jo and Sarai was with me. Every other man I was with after Jo for a long while, Sarai was with me.

She was with me when Chris got sick and I spent a month in the hospital praying he wouldn't die. But I'll talk about Chris later.

She served her purpose but I don't need her anymore and EFT made me realize that and I'm grateful.

I love Roots. I know I need time away to be healthy and get a better understanding of my purpose. But I know I'm a good fit for that place. I know because I helped build it. I helped make it what it is and those people have become my family. I can't dwell on my past. I can make things right. I can prove what I need to prove and come back better than before. Our past shapes us but our present is what matters the most. What we do now and the choices we make now are important. I'm trying to switch my mindset of being lonely to just being alone and being alone is okay. You can grow being alone.

Thursday, October 31, 2019

Leaving Austin

I'm going to take a break from the normal barrage of my past to post about my current situation. I leave tomorrow and I'm sitting here typing this in the bedroom that I have shared with my partner for a couple months now. I'm leaving my Dog, Navi, and my cat, Momo, behind and my partner/friend is going to take care of them for me.

Last night I planned to spend it with my partner who I care about deeply. I didn't fully comprehend how stressed they were with tests today which led to physical violence. I had a screen printing class and then did a food fundraiser for the house I'm leaving where I raised more money than I spent. I raised money for a house that doesn't want me here, that's not why I did the fundraiser, I did it because I care about Roots.

I've started to realize there is a lot of favoritism that takes place in a home-like this and if you are on the outside or you are new then you're constantly trying to prove yourself. It's a hierarchy. Others in the house have said they don't feel comfortable with their place at Roots, as though they could get kicked out at any time. That kind of structure doesn't facilitate growth, more often it facilitates fear.

I had a new idea today on my way home because there was no way I could stay in my house knowing my partner didn't want to be there with me. The idea is this, I buy a truck and build a shell on top. I also buy a small trailer. Ideally, I can travel in this truck with my dog and maybe a cat, depending on how she handles it. and we can travel to different ecovillages or aspiring communities and we can help with building projects. So I will build my tools up. I will learn from my father while I'm in New Jersey. I will see what different communities are doing, what works and what doesn't.

Hopefully, I end up back at Roots but I'm done playing Survivor no matter where I go. I'm looking for a family and families to work together and they don't treat each other as if only the favorites matter. It isn't healthy and it isn't sustainable. If you see someone struggling, we should reach out and help them or find resources that may help them.

I connected with Extinction Rebellion New Jersey so I'm excited to see where that goes. I need activism in my life to feel whole and complete. I need a community. I need a community that wants me and makes me feel nourished. I've felt used and like the people here are apathetic towards me. I need time away so I can grow and learn more. Maybe Roots is in my future, the universe knows I've kept this place afloat for a very long time, it's a bummer a few decided to strip it from me.

This comes from an angry place. Especially after I was treated last night.

Monday, October 14, 2019

Alternative Substances Part Two

We ended part one with me moving to Austin with very little savings but I managed. I moved with one of my best friends Luna and another friend Mckenzie. Luna was pregnant so her experience was very different than mine and Mckenzies. I'd also starting dating a guy named Low and soon he'd move in.

I'm going to preface this next to say I'm missing a lot between leaving after my car crash to my mom's house parts that are worth mentioning but I'll come back to it.

At the time I was 20 years old, I wanted to experience everything, and when I say everything I mean everything. Mdma, LSD, 25i, 2ci, any research chemical, DMT, heroin, meth, coke, you name it, especially if it was free, I'd do it. I'm going to be 30 in 5 days and the thought of me than trips me out. I barely microdose without hardcore researching.

Our house became a haven of druggies that put our pregnant roommate at risk and for that, I'm sorry because I was apart of it. There were times with the amounts of substances going into our systems I though someone might die or we would get robbed. Turn out, years later, I found out our apartment was almost robbed because of my idiot boyfriend at the time who liked to show off all the cash he was making.

Eventually, I meet this beautiful girl named Shane and she stole my heart. She also led me to the place I tried DMT for the first time, in an apartment full of strangers I'd just met, they offered it to us for free and she was like me and took it. I went first and one hit out of a meth pipe (not saying meth was used in this pipe it was just the way we use to do DMT and some still do now) one hit and I was gone. I traveled out of my body, honestly thought I'd defecated and held on to Shane for dear life hoping she could pull me back down. I repeated to myself "Come back. Come back. Come back." And eventually I did, she was next, she enjoyed herself. blasting to another place. After that I acquired all they had and shared it with my friends, this drug was too special not to share.

This was around the same time, although not the same night, I tried heroin for the first time. Intravenously, with a new needle, a junkie shot us up and Shane and I laid back on the bed and just felt so good and warm. If that drug didn't do such terrible things to people, I'd do it again. But I did it only for two weeks and then stopped, never touching it again. Shane kept going back, I'd come in to try and get her and people would be acting weird, they were out of it and I'm certain people were taken advantage of in their fucked up minds. I also tried meth here for the first time, I smoke it and didn't like it at all and did heroine a little bit later that night. Not exactly a speedball but close.

Shane and I eventually got a place together after I got evicted from mine and met a boy who became a quintessential part of my existence as a human, Robin. We exchanged LSD often and he started coming around more and I and Shane became more distant. I don't think she liked LSD that much, I don't think she liked me and Robin together that much. We would party together in that place often. I'd get puddled, that's where someone feeds you acid, I took more acid with Robin than any other person, over 15 hits is my highest count but who can ever tell when someone just keeps giving you more.

I'm going to keep writing later on this, it gets to trippy to get into now and I have work to do.

Saturday, October 12, 2019

Alternative Substances Part One

I didn't grow up in a house of drinkers. I remember seeing a bottle of zinfandel spritzer behind our water purifier but my parents didn't drink. We grew up in a church and parties never involved drinking.

When I was fourteen I smoked pot for the first time and became a little stoner. I still did good in school but I loved weed. I skipped school and had to make up for it but my grades remained high. When I was 17 years old I was hanging out with some friends in Morgans Point and two cops pulled up. I almost ran but stood frozen...I wonder if they would have found me if I ran, I didn't know Morgans Point that well but I had the weed on me. The Imogen Heap song Hide and Seek will always remind me of that time because an SNL skit had come out with Shia Labauef about it and we had been laughing about it all night.

Two of our own cars were there, one being mine and they asked to search both if my memory serves. We both complied. Stupid. When they'd pulled up I'd chunked my stash under the seat. I was so dumb...young. They found nothing in my friend's car but of course, found mine and I got arrested. The next day was Mother's Day, my mom you have to imagine was so proud to have to wake up to a call from the Bell County jail that her daughter had been picked up for marijuana possession. They got a lawyer and I remember her coming in, the glass in between us and I'm kind crying but not hysterical or anything and she put her hand up to the window. I didn't know this woman at all and she thought that would help me, I know it was out of kindness. It just felt funny. I got out early that morning and long story short got put on probation for a year.

I got my first job at the only movie theater in town to pay off my probation fees. I went in every month to piss test, I did community service, and eventually, I got put on every other month and was in a group. Once I got put on probation because I couldn't smoke and it was my senior year I started drinking, I literally blacked out every single time which is a sign of alcohol poisoning.

I'm going to skip ahead, I finished high school top of my class and moved in with some crusty punk kids in this cool old house. I started dating an abusive douche bag, he hit me, he kicked me, he almost killed me once but I'll talk about that another time. After him I started drinking more, when I drank I became brave. I didn't give a fuck what he said and any punches he gave or anything mean he said slid right off. That's when I stopped caring about everything and anyone. I was a shitty friend.

I met a cool group of friends close to Round Rock and tried ecstasy for the first time and loved it. That led eventually to me driving to Round Rock and crashing my car, not on drugs, it was raining. And having to move to my mom's house.

I did good for awhile there. The goal was to save everything so I could move to
Austin. I succeeded up to a point but in Allen, TX and Fairview and all those little suburbs in between the only thing to do is drink and shop. So I drank, I drank my savings down the drain and had barely enough when I moved to Austin.

I'm going to stop now. This may seem unnecessary to some but it's how I'm coping and the cool thing is, you don't have to read it if you don't want to.