No worries

A beautiful night. Sitting on the steps. Her arms around me tight as she whispers how everything will be okay.
Chocolate ice cream and the fresh mountain air. A million stars decorate the sky. So complete.
Distance sounds. The wind in the trees. The flow of the creek and a low roar of a car on 115.
Her laughter tickles. Her words fill me with warmth. Her touch is soothing. And I am safe there in her arms.
She never fails to amaze me. I think she knows me better than I know myself.

My Fight

Things are always different for an outsider. One that has no idea what you are going through.

Back Then...
I was never really a book reader. Sure, I read the required books in high school. I didn't become a cult fan of the books like "The Catcher in the Rye" or care too much for "To Kill a Mockingbird." Only one book stood out for me. A book I had to read in Psychology class. "Go Ask Alice." Mostly because I read it during my recovering from addiction years. Since no one really knew what I was going through, that book helped me remember why I was going through it. I wanted to live.

ad·dic·tion
\ə-ˈdik-shən, a-\
noun
1: the quality or state of being addicted
2: compulsive need for and use of a habit-forming substance (as heroin, nicotine, or alcohol) characterized by tolerance and by well-defined physiological symptoms upon withdrawal ; broadly : persistent compulsive use of a substance known by the user to be harmful


with·draw·al \-ˈdrȯ(-ə)l\
1 a: the act of taking back or away something that has been granted or possessed b: removal from a place of deposit or investment c (1): the discontinuance of administration or use of a drug (2): the syndrome of often painful physical and psychological symptoms that follows discontinuance of an addicting drug

Addiction is like a lover that sneaks into your life, takes over your life, and then refuses to leave. Yes, like a lover.
Because in those moments...when you are so high, feeling ten feet tall and bullet proof with no pain and no worries...you believe that pill you took or whatever your drug of choice was, you believe that it loves you.
And you love it because it took away that memory, that pain, that hurt, that worry, that fist, those words...everything. You are blissfully numb and you think that you are in the middle of the worlds greatest love affair.

My addiction refused to leave without a knock down, drag out fight. I was determined to win. Like I said, I wanted to LIVE. And if a person ever tells you that withdrawals are easy, they are lying and have no idea what addiction really is.

Withdrawal...good God. Pain, so much pain. I swore my marrow hurt. Sweat. Freezing. Shaking. Nausea. Hallucinations. Paranioia.
Again, I told my mom I had the flu. I'm sure if she wasn't working so much, she would have figured it out. During the day, while she was at work, I would sit in the corner of my room, sweating to death but freezing to the core. I'd pull the fibers from the carpet in my clinched fists as I'd bite my lip so hard it would bleed. So many times I was sure I was going to die. I heard voices and swore they were angels coming to take me away.

It was the worst physical and mental experience of my life. I didn't see day light for at least two weeks. But finally, things subsided enough for me to feel confident I could go outside without freaking out. I still stayed away from my friends, though. Slowly, I began to realize that they weren't worthy of being called friends anyway. They would be the first to drag me back down.

Yeah, I never really read much, but that book...it could have, would have, and almost was...me.

Definitions 2

mor⋅bid 

1. suggesting an unhealthy mental state or attitude; unwholesomely gloomy, sensitive, extreme, etc.: a morbid interest in death.
2. affected by, caused by, causing, or characteristic of disease.
3. pertaining to diseased parts: morbid anatomy.
4. gruesome; grisly.

Origin: 1650–60; < L morbidus sickly, equiv. to morb(us) sickness + -idus 4 Related forms:
mor⋅bid⋅ly, adverb
mor⋅bid⋅ness, noun

Synonyms:2. unwholesome, diseased, unhealthy, sick, sickly; tainted, corrupted, vitiated.

It might be a good idea for someone to check on my sanity today. I swear I'm not as demented as my head is pretending to be right now! Shh...it could be a lie.

Addiction Cemetery

This post goes out to Starr and Peace and all the girls over at CrazyLesbianCircus that have been asking for more. I love you girls and miss you like mad.

And I'd like to publicly thank Starr for wanting to write the book about this stuff. She says my life is an inspiration and the story needs to be told. I think the same about her life...but she has refused to let me write about it.

On to the next chapter...Back Then.

I was in and out of consciousness for I don't know how long. At one point, I do remember moving the dresser from in front of the door. But I forgot to unlock it. I prayed as I sat in the corner trying to stay awake that my mom would come home and check on me and she would call the ambulance.

That trip to the hospital never happened. So, I died. Yes, I really died. If I told you the story of how I know this, you would probably think I was completely insane. But I really did die.

I was given a choice. Clean up or never go back. Obviously I chose to clean up because I'm here now. I can give you a million reasons for why I decided to live but the one that matters the most was my mom. I knew she wouldn't have been able to handle it. I couldn't do that to her.

When I finally came to and realized what had happened wasn't really a dream, I kind of freaked. I went to the kitchen and grabbed some trash bags. I went through every thing I owned and threw away anything and everything that reminded me of drugs. Pipes, bongs, music, my art, clothes. Everything. If I was going to do it, if I was going to keep that promise and stay clean, I couldn't have any reminders or triggers.

After I stuffed it all in the trash bin outside, I went back in my room. In my dresser drawer, below the Rolling Stone magazine was my stash. I think I sat there and stared at that drawer for at least an hour. And when I finally pulled it from that drawer, I held that little bag in my hand and begged for the strength to get rid of it. I dumped it on my bed and sorted through it one last time. In the cellophane from a pack of smokes were a few hits of acid. Album covers. In a small baggie, a few lines of coke. Two rolled joints. And in the last of the baggies, a nice assortment of my favorite pills.

I shoved it all back in the brown bag and grabbed some clothes. I went into the bathroom and locked the door. I sat down in front of that toilet and shook. I swear it felt like I had the devil sitting on one shoulder and an angel on the other. Sweat poured off me like someone was pouring water over my head and my heart felt like it had relocated to my throat.

I emptied the contents of that brown bag on the floor. I grabbed the coke first because I never really cared for the stuff that much anyway. I thought it would be the easiest to flush. The shaking got worse the closer I got to that addiction cemetery. And as my hand hovered above the grave, my breathing became panicked. I have to do this. I need to do this. I kept repeating those sentences over and over. I closed my eyes and thought it all out again. My pep talk wasn't working because I wasn't saying the right thing. It wasn't about having or needing to do anything. It was about wanting to do it. This IS what I WANT. I WANT to be CLEAN. I opened that baggie and poured everything out. I unrolled those joints and dropped it all in. I opened the pills I could and crushed the others and dropped them in. The last to go was the acid. But it did go.

I'm not sure if my mom wondered what the hell I was doing flushing the toilet so many times but she never asked. I just had to make sure it was all gone. When I was done burying my addiction, I stripped to hop in the shower.

If I needed any other reason to quit drugs, I found it all over my body in the form of bruises and cuts and scratches from the attack I had to fight off. Anger finally washed away my panic and fear of having to start my life from scratch, so to speak. And as I washed away the bloody remnants of what their hands had done to me, I plotted my revenge.

Hell hath no fury...

Nothing really

Those dreams....I wonder if its a sign or something.

And for the one, two, or few of you that have been waiting patiently for the rest of the "back then" story, I will be adding to it soon. Sorry I left you all hanging for so long. It's just at that part in my life things went a little crazy. Crazier than I like to admit.

Anyhow...I did miss Joan Jett yesterday in Atlanta. Its okay though, I hear she will be back in October. If not, there might be a chance I will be able to catch her in North Carolina next month and if not then, I should be able to catch her in Florida in October when I'm on my way down to meet up with friends for the dew tour.

The rest of this year will be pretty busy.

Confusion...why now?

What do you want? And why now?

Its been years since I thought of you. Years since we lost touch. Years.
But here you are. In my dreams. Every night for the past two weeks and I don't understand.
Even in my dreams, you are the same as you were back then. Flirting and touching. Keeping me right on the edge of wanting you so bad that it hurt. You're demanding all of my attention again and I don't want to give it to you. I don't want to give in to you. I can't do it.

All this time has passed...so what the hell do you want?

Do you remember how you cried when I told you I was going to marry him? Do you remember how you begged me not to? And when I asked you why, you shied away. Even after I said for you I wouldn't. You wouldn't admit it then and I know you won't admit it now.

And those few years that went by, when we didn't speak, I looked for you. I looked everywhere. I even went to your fathers house, hoping to God that I would have one more chance to tell you what you had meant to me back then. Time went by and then you found me. You found me when I was already in love with her. A love so unbelievable that it made what we had look like a joke. You wouldn't see me, but I knew you wanted to. I knew I had to see you. I had to let you know once and for all what I felt for you.

You made me tell you over the phone. And I confessed that I loved you then. That all you had to do was say the word and I would have never married him. I would have been with you. Would have. But everything happens for a reason and I know now that we were never meant to be.

Was it fear of acceptance that kept you away? I know you loved me. Hell, your own brother was gay and out. But you held me at an arms length away, pulling when you wanted and pushing when you didn't. I wasn't your toy then and I refuse to be now.

So stay out of my dreams. Because I don't understand. And if you are upset because I'm happy without you...GOOD. Because I have no regrets and wouldn't change a thing.

Listen *violin music*

I did it. I finally did it.

Its been a great three (maybe four, I can't remember) years with you. In your early years you navigated me through the toughest of Internet sites. You edited my pictures and documented some of the greatest moments. And when Rock scorched the Internet thingy, I kept you and used you everyday.
You hold some of the coolest music and some of my best writings. Even that really morbid drawing I did in paint will forever be yours.

Yes, I will miss you. Up until the point I smash you to the concrete for dying in the middle of the most important scene of my new book. You and your shitty sound and fuzzy looking screen. The eater of all important things. You might be limping right now but mark my words...you will not see another day!

Disclaimer...I really know nothing about computers. But I do know that I finally really permanently killed my lap top last night. It took me down with it though, the slimy bastard, by making impossible for me to see the screen so I could save some of the things I had on it....like my book ideas and edits from the other books I've written. Fuck the funeral...I'm taking revenge!

On the upside...J said she's buying me a Mac!!!

Kids spelling (Missing Home)

I did a post a few back about Glubble, the family site focused for kids. I love this thing!

It has been the source of some of my longest laughing spells ever. My nieces are the funniest kids. One of the things that gets me laughing the most is the way they spell things. Here are a few of my favorites.

"Grandmall dos Grandpoll like popcorn?"
"My name is Summer. Are you toking about the seesan?"
"I rote that. It was on prpiss."
"Hey every boty."
"Can I have a labtop."

This is my favorite of them all. Not just for the spelling but...well...

Summer says, "Ella no mater who mutch times i saey i hate you i still love you."

Breaking your heart, right? Mine too. And I miss them like you wouldn't believe.

Fade

My ex never once told me that I was beautiful. Actually, I don't remember ex ever saying one nice thing to me the entire time we were together. But ex was good with the words when ex wanted me to go out with him.

I spent twelve years being told I was fat (I weighed 120lbs soak and wet and I'm 5'8"). Twelve years being called bitch. Twelve years being called a whore. Twelve years being told I was a piece of shit and nobody would ever want me. Twelve years of lies because he knew he would never be able to keep me.

And one morning with J is all I ever need to erase (from my new mindset) all the bullshit, cut downs, lies, and hate filled accusations.

I was watching her make breakfast as the sun was coming up. Sexy as hell in her Calvin Klein boxers and her white shirt. I had my legs pulled up on the kitchen chair, hugging my knees, and my chin resting on top of them. She turned around and looked my way. I knew I was caught staring at her ass, so I sat up, tilted my head to the side, and smiled my best "I'm innocent" smile.

The look in her eyes told me that I wasn't really busted. A slow smile curved her lips as she brought the food to the table.

"What?" I asked. Her stare was making me fidget.
Her smile consumed her face as she shrugged.
"What?" I asked again. I checked my clothes to make sure nothing was showing that wasn't supposed to be. Flannel shorts were fine (although they are now three sizes too big) and my long sleeved white shirt was covering what it was supposed to be covering. So I looked back at her and smiled again.
"Nothing." She paused to sip her milk. "Its just I've never seen you look as beautiful as you do right now."

One sentence from her and all that old bullshit fades like a bruise.

Who keeps New Years resolutions?

New Years resolutions...how many people actually keep them??

J and I do. Oddly, this is the first year we have but still, we are.

We are not exactly the same. J is more business and technical, where I am more creative and artistic. But in no way are we opposite. Unlike the popular saying and belief...opposite DO NOT attract. We have the same ideals and beliefs, along with our respect and love for our families. We set high standards and expectations for ourselves and stick by them, no matter what. Most importantly, we support and encourage each other to no ends, even if its not something the other has interest in.

Me, I tell stories. Stories through art, music, and books. And although J isn't the fiction type of girl, she'll read, listen, and look at whatever I have and give me valuable input that I couldn't do without.

J, she's an analyzer. A predictor of sorts. Her quest for knowledge and a better way of life feeds me. She's a stock trader by day and a searcher by night. Although I have no knowledge of the stock market, I listen to her ideas and analogies and I give her the encouragement and uneducated input that she needs and fuels her self with.

Its the perfect balance. (Even though I will be the first to say that to be deemed perfect should be an insult.)

So this year, our New Year's resolution was to have six pack abs by June. Something I hadn't had since high school and something she had never had. We set our goal and even started our exercise plan a week before the new year. And almost every single night since, we have been doing it. There is no trying, only doing.

Since we have started, she has lost 15lbs. Me, I've lost 17lbs. She was already thinner than I was so the six pack abs that we've been striving for is much more noticeable on her than me. I've got 20lbs on her, so I might not make the goal of June, but I'm not going to stop working for them.

We've added to the routine along the way. Instead of just the abs, we are working on a full body transformation. Pretty much from head to toe. And today, after the vicious routine, I feel like Arnold Schwarzenegger. I can barely raise my arms to the keyboard, and masochistically...it feels so damn good.

The difference I feel when I put my arms around her and when she does the same to me and whispers, "You're so little", is more than enough encouragement to keep pushing. I think I like this New Year's resolution stuff and I wish I would have started keeping them sooner.

I think I might make a mid-year resolution to quit smoking. Maybe...

Relentless

J and I had a debate last night that threatened to drive me to drinking.

For the record...I really don't care either way but...
J thinks that the landing on the moon was faked. She claims that it was all filmed in some kind of Hollywood studio or something.
But why? Why would they fake something like that?
There was nothing of value on the moon (because we all know how our government works) so it wasn't like they had to get there first to gather up all the "good stuff." It wasn't like we could start a war from up there, so really, why fake something like that? Her point...Then why go?

Note to self...never debate with J while she is in front of the computer. She will pull up whatever she can to solidify her belief.

I was in front of mine too, but mine isn't hooked up to the internet (strictly for writing my books) so she had an unfair advantage. Very unfair. But damnit! I fought the best I could with what I had...photography knowledge.

She showed me all kinds of pictures saying that since NASA claims there was no lighting taken on the trip, the shadows in the pictures were wrong and proves there was lighting. Sans...Hollywood studio.
I examined all these pictures and told her my thoughts. For one thing, I really don't think that there was NO light on the shuttle itself. That would be like turning me loose in the woods without a flashlight at night. There had to be some kind of lights on the shuttle. Even if there wasn't, do people NOT think that light reflects? So, I told her that I thought the discrepancies in the shadows could have been caused by either one...reflection or a light from the shuttle itself.

If that's all they have on proving that the trip to the moon was fake then its weak.
Like I said, it doesn't matter to me either way but if you are going to convince me that something isn't true, I need better evidence than a damn shadow in a picture.

Then she tried to tell me that the flag was blowing or something. I told her to prove to me that there is no wind up there, then she might have a case.

After an hour or so of her pointing at shadows, I gave up. She wasn't listening to me. I pulled on my headphones and told her I was going back to my book. I blared some Runaway's and attempted to ignore her. She kept tapping me on the shoulder but I kept laughing and shaking my head. She didn't let up until 4 o'clock in the morning!

I didn't get much writing done and I'm still not convinced.

J's wisdom

I love my wife. What we have might not be legal in most states, but its ours and it can't be taken away.

She knows me. Better than I know myself and she always knows the right thing to say at times when I'm so lost in my head, bringing me right back to where I need to be.

Back in February, I had hit a roadblock with my writing. (I write fiction.) I was stressed and aggravated and thinking about just giving up. If you know me, you know that I never give up but I was in that deep of a rut. I figured that I should put away the writing and just return to music. At least it would have still been creative.

I'm not sure how it came up, but I told her how I was beginning to doubt my writing since I had hit the huge roadblock the week before. This is what she told me..."You know, Michael Crichton, who wrote ER, Jurassic Park, and Twister (and other stuff) said 'books aren't written, they're rewritten. It is one of the hardest things to accept, especially after the seventh rewrite hasn't quite done it.'"

I contemplated it for a few minutes and in my silence, she figured I needed more of a push.

Then she said..."You know, Ernest Hemingway rewrote 'A Farewell to Arms' 39 times and he later went on to win the Pulitzer and Nobel prizes."

There are an infinite number of reasons why I love J. A majority of them, words could not describe. But, one I can describe is her mind. She is one of the most intelligent people I know. And she always knows the right thing to say.

Yeah, I love my intelligent, sexy, super talented, guitar playing, stock trading, loving wife.

Redneck Aquarium

It threatened to rain off and on today but it didn't deter Jules and I from heading down to the creek while J and Rock went to the cemetery. Jules is Rock's girlfriend and has recently moved in to the house with the rest of us. Anyone else need a place to stay? We got two empty couches and a recliner left?

Our creek journey recap...

me: You wanna ride the four wheeler down there?

Jules: Nah. I need to walk. But I'll ride back up with you.

I went to get the key for the four wheeler and met her down by the creek. She has a small plastic fish tank and two small nets.

me: What's the nets and tank for?

Jules: I'm gonna catch some crawfish and make a redneck aquarium.

She laughed and stepped into the water.

Jules: There's one.

She splashed through the water and trapped a small crawfish in the net.

I was still stuck on the redneck aquarium.

me: What else are you going to put in your aquarium?

Jules: An old beer can. And hopefully a few of these crawfish. I don't want to catch the big ones because Rock will eat them.

Redneck aquarium. Hmmm...

Jules: Come on in. The water isn't too cold.

me: Alright. (I step in and scream to the top of my lungs. The water is like stepping in an ice bucket. It reminded me of Manatee Springs, Florida...but much colder.) Not that cold?!

Glutton for punishment, I kept walking into the water. I tried not to squish the snails, but I might have stepped on a few. There was just so many of the damn things. She handed me a net.

Jules: Ooh! There's one.

She leaned over and netted another small crawfish. This one was lighter than the other.

Jules: Cool. We got a male and a female.

Me: Really? How can you tell?

Jules: The red ones are females...I think. The lighter one is male.

The water didn't feel so cold anymore and I got brave. I carefully maneuvered the moss covered rocks under the rushing water and ventured further down the creek. Jules followed but didn't fair so well with those slippery rocks. She slipped and fell on her ass. I did a great job a not laughing but she laughed her ass off at herself. We found nothing in the curve of the creek so we made our way back to our original spot.

There she spotted two of the biggest crawfish I had ever seen in the creek. We both splashed over to the area and she almost netted one. But they backed themselves into the holes in the rocks and never came back out again.

Something nibbled on my toe and I jumped splashing that ice cold water up the legs of my shorts. After another short scream from me, Jules spotted something.

Jules: Don't move!

I'm thinking...snake!? Because, if that's the case, my ass in running not staying still so it can slither up my leg and bite my ass.

me: What? What is it?

Jules: Algae eater.

me: Huh?

Jules: A fish. Right...here.

She slaps the net in the water and brings up a bunch of sand. I search for what she is talking about and don't see a damn thing.

Jules: See it?

me: Nope.

Jules: Its like camouflaged. There!

This time she points and I see what looks like a translucent minnow size fish.

She ended up catching two of them and putting them in her tank for her redneck aquarium. J and Rock came back with DQ Blizzards, so we headed back up to the house.

A few minutes ago, Jules went back down to the creek to let all the creatures she caught go. (I didn't catch a damn thing, but give me a fishing pole and watch out!) She said she felt bad.

I think my feet are still frozen but it was kind of fun. I now know what a redneck aquarium and a crawfish is. I learn something new everyday. Ha!

I've been to hell

I have survived the migraine from hell!

Five whole days of pain came to a peak early this morning where I thought I was going to die. Yes, I was sure my left eye was leaving my face and my brain was going to explode. I had to keep checking to see if I was bleeding from my ears and my nose. God, I hate migraines!

Pour J. I had her so freaked out, she was going to call my mother. In my rage of painful anger, I think I might have yelled at her. Something along the lines of, "What the fuck is my mom going to do? She fucking seven hundred miles away!" Honestly, all I really wanted J to do was take me to the hospital. That one little shot would have made the pain fade in the blink of an eye. I never asked. No, I toughed it out. The cramping pain in my skull just now faded enough for me to function. Finally! Whew. I feel like I fought the winning battle in the war or something.

I apologized to J for my angered rage. All I wanted was her help but all she kept doing was asking me questions. She apologized for not being fully awake enough to help. She explained that she really just didn't know what to do. Since we've been together, I've only had two other migraines that bad and both I was able to handle. This last one...I really did think I was going to die. Anyway, we are all good.

Now, life can get back to being abnormal.

Glubble, a family site

Day four of this headache...but today it kicked up a notch. It finally turned into a full fledged migraine.

Today I got an email from my sister-in-law. She told me that my nieces, Silly, Boo, and Monster, are getting old enough to where they are learning to use the computer. She said that she has even seen them do searches on Google for things like butterflies and such. The girls are 9, 8, and 3.

She made a good point, one misspelled word could lead them to a porn site or something so she signed up for this thing called Glubble. Its a browser for kids and it protects them from accidentally clicking on a site that is not suitable for them. From what I can tell, it gives the kids a list of suitable sites it can pick from to find the information they are looking for. It's a family site, so the only people that can see my nieces and what they are doing is family. There's no instant messaging but we can leave messages on a wall - similar to facebook - but only the family can see that wall. The coolest part is that the adults can see what the kids are actually doing online. For instance, when I signed in today I saw that Boo was looking up information on horses (her favorite animal) and Silly was looking up how to spell a word.

She also wrote this:
What you see when you sign onto Glubble, is not what the kids see. When they sign on, the entire browser "blows up", and they are in a "protected zone". What they see is a completely different browser. So while we can navigate the Glubble page in Internet Explorer, or Firefox, it just looks like any other website to us. For them, Glubble IS their browser. Glubble for them is what IE or Firefox is to us. They have hundreds upon hundreds of pre-approved sites that have been reviewed by the Glubble team, that the kids can search and explore. Also, I can add sites Ive approved myself for them to view, that Glubble may not have found yet. In addition to that, I can remove any site that is in the site library (the library is where the pre-approved sites are). You can actually do this too. If the kids try and view a site NOT approved, they are prompted for a password, which they do not have. The kids can not leave this "Glubble browser" without this password either.

I commend the creator of Glubble. I recommend this site to anyone who has young children.

As the color comes back to the world

I couldn't sleep at all last night. Even after J's "help" I was still restless. I kept waking up every two hours with weird dreams. One of strangers and ice cream cake and another with all my nieces playing hide and go seek. I'm still stumped on how Ella, the two year old monster, got up in the linen closet by herself.

Finally, at 10:30am, I gave up. Hopefully, tonight I will sleep better. (I know 10:30 seems late but I didn't get to sleep until somewhere around 6am.)

It truly looks like spring around here now. I swear all the trees grew leaves overnight. J said the same thing. We can no longer see any of the neighbors houses and J warned me not to walk out in the woods alone. (I tend to get lost...but I always find my way back. It just takes a while.)

We have three gardens growing. One has onions, potatoes, and brussels sprouts. The one up on the hillside has more onions, green beans, bell peppers, jalapenos, cabbage, lettuce, and corn. And the one at Granny's has carrots, corn, green beans, and some other stuff that I can't remember. Mick says he has to plow again before we can plant the tomatoes. This is all new to me. I can tell you this...they really like the green beans around here but they have to be white runners or something because there was a huge discussion about where to buy the right ones. I'm talking...family meeting on which ones were the right ones.

My writing muse has been on fire. I'm talking inferno fire. This is great because I was starting to go stir crazy again. Words have been spilling out of me like a broken faucet and I've written two chapters in the last two nights.

I read a good book...twice. When I get some extra time I'll write a little something about it.

I think I hear my muse calling...

Another mistake

My lack of updates is blamed on my drowning in the book I'm writing. I'm about 70 pages in and it has been consuming every other free minute I have. J gets the rest of my free minutes.

So here we go...Back Then...

It sucks to admit to some of the stupid decisions I have made over the years, but, like I said before, I have no regrets. I lived and learned and that's what living is all about.

I was determined to clean up. And I did pretty good for the first week or two. I had managed to convince everyone that I was too busy to hang out on the weekends and such. It was working but, I admit, it was damn hard. Sometimes you don't realize how bad you are addicted until you try to quit.

Mom helped, even though she had no idea what she was helping with. She thought I was getting the flu or something. And she made sure to keep the vultures away...mostly because I asked her to. When she asked why I didn't want to see them, I just told her that they were starting to annoy me and I needed some space. She respected that and never asked again.

Frank moved away and a new guy moved in. DK was closer to us in age and the few times I talked to him, he seemed pretty cool. He even helped me fix my moms car one morning so she could get to work. (I'm a closet mechanic) Somehow, I confided in him that I was quitting drugs. I'm not sure how we got on the conversation but I'm guessing he was offering and I refused. He seemed cool with that and never pushed again until...

It was the weekend and mom was out on a date. My little brother was staying down at my grandmothers. I had the house to myself and was going stir crazy with urges that were threatening to take me down. I grabbed my guitar and sat out front on the planter, practicing scales and such. Out of all the people I didn't want or need to see, fucking Chris rode by on his motorcycle. When he noticed that I saw him, he did a quick u-turn and pulled up in my driveway.

He quickly tried to explain himself. "I was just in the neighborhood and I saw you sitting here. I couldn't just keep going."

I knew better and I started to wonder if he had been stalking me since he learned where I was living or what. It creeped me out and I shivered with a weird sense of fear. But I couldn't let him know that.

"You're shivering. Are you cold?" he asked and started to move closer.
I put up my hand to stop him. "No. I've been sick."

My conversation with Chris turned into a yelling match and we caught the attention of DK. I had seen him walk out of his house with a friend and they had been watching Chris and I for a while. After I yelled for Chris to leave for the fifth time, DK walked over and put his arm around me.

"Hey, babe. Do we have a problem here?" DK asked, giving Chris a look that would kill.
"No problem. Chris was just leaving." I put my arm around DK's waist to make things look more believable.

Chris finally got the point and left.

"Who was that?" DK asked, taking a seat on the planter beside me.
Who was Chris? The guy that tried to drug me and rape me would have been the best description but I didn't want to say that to DK. "Someone I knew from my old neighborhood is all. Thanks for your help."
"Anytime. That's what friends are for," he shrugged. "You look wound up. How 'bout you come over and we get high."
"No thanks, I quit remember."
He stood and reached out for my hand. "Its just weed. Not addictive and just an herb, B. It won't fuck up your process."

I was stressed and upset from seeing Chris. I was having a hard time fighting the urges. I can give you every excuse there is in the book for why I finally agreed, but none of them are good enough. It was a stupid decision. But we all make mistakes, right?

I put my guitar back in the house and walked across the street to DK's house. I had assumed his friend had left but when I walked in his house, his friend was sitting at the table finishing rolling up the joint. I took a seat on the couch and zoned out on the TV while I mentally tortured myself with questions. Its just weed. It can't hurt me, can it? Should I do this? I've been doing so good. Will this fuck up everything I've been working for? I should have listened to myself when I had concluded that it was a bad idea and I should just leave. But it was already lit and was in my hand. I shrugged and thought, what the hell.

About the fourth time I had that joint in my fingers, I started to feel real weird. My heart was going a mile a minute and I swore I could hear my blood flowing through my veins. The sound was so loud, I could barely hear anything else. I passed the joint and that's when I noticed that DK and his friend weren't really smoking it. This was bad. Real bad.

I stood. I knew I had to get out of there before whatever bad thing they had planned started happening. "DK, I think I've had enough. I gotta go home. Mom's gonna be there soon and I'm supposed to be home sick."
"Nah. Stay, B. Don't worry, we'll get you home." DK shared an evil grin with his friend that made me feel sick to my stomach...or was that the drug.
"Really, DK. I'm not feeling well. My knee has been hurting me. I gotta go." I took a step toward the door and DK stepped in front of me.
His hands were sliding down my back and stopped on my ass. He was holding me to him tight. "I have the perfect thing for your knee. Why don't you take a bath? The warm water will do wonders for your pain."
He licked up the side of my neck and tried to kiss me.

Whatever they put in that joint was kicking in at full force. I was getting so disoriented and I'm sure if the front door wasn't right in front of me, I probably wouldn't have been able to find it. I knew I had to make my move to get out and I had to do it fast.

DK's friend walked up behind me and slid his hands up my shirt. "Yeah, baby. A bath will fix you right up." I felt his hands at the front of my jeans as he bit my earlobe.

I leaned my head forward and threw it back, hitting the guy in the face somewhere. He dropped his hands and stepped away, cursing and making threats. I took another step toward the door and DK grabbed me, pulling my hair, exposing my neck as he bit down.

"I promise I will make you feel good," DK whispered, loosening his grip just enough.

I was sure my heart was about to explode and, any minute, I was going to be so far out of it that they were going to get what they wanted. I raised my knee, making full contact with DK's crotch. He went back against the wall and I moved as fast as I could toward that damn door. I had to reach it. I had to get out of it and back to my house. I had to.

My hand was on the doorknob when DK's friend grabbed my arm and twisted me around to face him. I was stuck between him and the door. "Let us help you feel better." He kissed me hard, knocking my head against the door.

I saw little stars and shit but I couldn't let it stop me. I kneed him just as hard as I kneed DK and he went down to his knees. I twisted the door knob but the door wouldn't open. It was locked and I couldn't think clear enough to figure out how to unlock it.

DK's friend made it to his feet, pushing me face first into the door. His hands were ripping at my jeans, scratching my skin. I kept trying to unlock that fucking door. I had to keep trying. I got it!

DK's friend turned me around to face him. He shoved his hand down the front of my jeans. "I'm gonna fuck you until you bleed," he growled.

He had both his legs between mine, so I couldn't knee him again. So I reached for his balls, grabbed them, and squeezed until he screamed like a woman. He let me go and DK was heading our way. I flung the door open, slamming it on DK and ran as fast as I could. My pants were falling down, my shirt was ripped, but I kept running until I got in the door at my house.

Reality was fading so fast. Nothing was easy. I ran to all the doors and tried to make sure they were all locked. I got to my bedroom, locked the door, and pushed my nightstand in front of it. I checked my window, then collapsed on my bed.

I was sure that I was dying but I was so afraid to try to make it to the phone. They knew I was home alone. There was no way I could fight them anymore. I watched my chest as my heart attempted to beat out of it. The sounds of gushing, thick liquid filled my head. I could no longer feel my body. And I was out.

Dream + Tina = silly

I woke up from the silliest dream today...

First off...I lost interest in The L Word the season before last. Second...I never found any of the girls on that show the least bit attractive. I can hear the "Yeah rights" from lesbians across the world echoing. Really, the only one I found mildly attractive was the chef chick that Dana dated a long time ago. And that's what made this dream so silly.

I was hanging out with Bette and Tina and another one of Tina's ex-girlfriends (that's the way she was introduced to me in the dream) but the ex was now with Bette. We were at a hockey game of all things. Then we went back to their (Bette and Tina's) place and were hanging out there. I remember asking Tina if it was weird hanging out with two of her ex-girlfriends and she shrugged it off.

Tina said she'd wait for me in the bedroom as I went to the kitchen to get some drinks. As I was walking out, I heard a baby. I'm thinking either I was drunk or I was trying to hide from Bette because I was crawling. And when I peeked around the corner of the cabinet, I saw their kid sitting in some kind of baby seat looking thing. I smiled at the kid and Bette walked in. I told her that we needed a couple of hours and she said, "No problem." She picked up the baby and walked out the back door.

Even in the dream I was thinking things were very weird.

I get back in the room and Tina is naked. I walked over to turn up the air as I stripped. It was damn hot in that room. We were laughing about something when I joined her on the bed. We started making out and she stops. "Wait," she says and rolls on to her side.

I start laughing and pull the piece of paper that was stuck to the sweat on her ass off. It was a menu for Pizza Hut. Pizza Hut?? She takes it from me and starts blowing on it to dry it. "Is it that important?" I asked. We both started laughing again and she asks me to see if the words were printed on her ass. Nice ass. And then I woke up.

Whenever J and I wake up, we always tell each other our dreams. We've always done this. So today I said, "I woke up to the silliest dream. If I tell you, you have to promise that you won't get mad." Not that I really expected her to get mad, but I wanted her to laugh at it with me. And if I told her to not get mad, she would think it was that much more funnier.

She agreed and I told her.
She laughed her ass off. "That was fucking silly."
"I told you it was," I smiled.
"Tina is so not your type. And you can't even eat anything at Pizza Hut."

True and true. Fucking silly ass dream.