Its so strange to think that I was so deep in sin. That I'm STILL so deep in sin, really.

My heart always thinks of you as this loving, forgiving, weepy weak god. But that's not reality. You are love, but also fire. This verse brought light to that;

"^-6 Woe to you who are rushing headlong to disaster!
    Catastrophe is just around the corner!
Woe to those who live in luxury
    and expect everyone else to serve them!
Woe to those who live only for today,
    indifferent to the fate of others!
Woe to the playboys, the playgirls,
    who think life is a party held just for them!
Woe to those addicted to feeling good—life without pain!
    those obsessed with looking good—life without wrinkles!
They could not care less
    about their country going to ruin."

Your love does truly bring me to my knees, and in a loving relationship with you, love is what I would have to offer you. But I'm not choosing that right now, am I? I'm rather choosing to smoke and desire the wrong things, to completely ignore you. I feel lost, like a bobber floating aimlessly in the sea. I feel lost and alone and sad. But that's not what you've got for me. You have so much more. I want to surrender. But I feel so locked in. And the idea of changing my whole life AGAIN to get back is something I know would be a worthy cause. And maybe I'm making it too much in my head. It doesn't have to look like becoming a complete freak. But I have to learn to find my security in YOU, or I will never be self assured enough to stand up for what I believe to be truth.

Dear addiction,


You've taken over my life. From such a young age. I've worn you as an identity. I used you to run from my problems, but you only created more and worse problems. I'm tired of running. I'm tired of not facing my fears and insecurities. I'm tired of you.

You've hurt me more than anyone. I trusted you with my safety. I expected you to be a good friend, to hold my hand and walk me through the hard parts that I couldn't handle then to let me go. that's not what happened. You took advantage and when I was ready to walk away, when I would have been okay walking away, you followed like a sad, sick little puppy. You disgust me. Yet I have to bear some appreciation for you. You took me through the most difficult, unbearable situations I've encountered in life. You were there, you never left which is more than I can say for a lot of people in my life. When I was raped, you were there. When Ethan left, you were there. When life was too hard to handle sober, you were there. You were so supportive of me. Yet it was a deception of support. You only cared for me when I was doing what you wanted. When I tried to leave and do other, normal things, you threw a fit and demanded I come back.

But you haven't seen anything yet. I'm running too far and fast for you to catch me. You'll never catch up. I'll always be three steps ahead because you expect me to act predictably and what you fail to realize is that I have a secret weapon. His name is jesus Christ and he has set me free of you. He broke the bonds that tie us together, bonds that I tried with all my strength to cut and couldn't. Alone I couldn't have left you. But he gives me the strength I need. HE freed me!!! I don't need you. You will always follow me. You will always whisper my name in the dark loneness of the night. But you cant claim me anymore. I may fail sometimes. I may forget the heartache and pain you've caused me. and lord willing, I wont fail. But god forbid I do fall back into your arms, He will quietly beckon me home. He wont judge or punish me. Natural consequences may take place. But he will always forgive and forget my sins. He will open his arms and envelop me in an embrace that promises to love me eternally. HE ALONE IS MY FREEDOM AND YOUVE GOT NO POWER!!!!


I've had this letter in writing for about 3 days. I'll feel all empowerful and free and beautiful for a few moments. But then it slips away. I want some finality. I want some closure. But then morning comes and imstill sad. I'm still depressed and lonely and feeling like a failure. So I smoke. I look for other peoples version of success. I suppose I ought to define what success looks like for me. As I sat on the loo tonight I though to myself, "I could stop all this right now. I could just stop smoking and open up to people." But then I remember that everyone leaves. And I feel small and insecure again. And you've promised to walk this thing out with me. So what should I do? You say youll always come through and I believe you. But I'm unsure of what that looks like. You are good. What does that mean? Who am I without drugs? And even more than that who am I without scsl? Ive left myself and allowed myself be defined by my school and my mentors. I need to define myself outside of scsl. That's hard.

More later.

Jax.

I know you're supposed to blog daily, but its hard. I've been in such a strange place emotionally as of late. This post is dedicated to explanation of said place. I feel lost. I don't fit in with the friends I've had for the past six months. I'm changing, transforming. I'm uncertain of what I'm exactly turning into. I'm growing in darkness.

I want to be light. I desire beach life, sand, surf and tropical breezes. Something freeing, liberating and gratifying. Then, I could be happy, right? The only problem is that my dark and twisty place would come with me. I could be happy alone, I'm scared to be with anyone long term. I'm scared of kisses, without the inebriation of wine I'm incapable of commitment to anything but joking and surface lies.

I messed up a few weeks ago. I faltered in my sobriety, relapsed. I haven't told anyone, and I'm not sure how to. I drank alcohol and smoked weed with a girl from work. I haven't forgiven myself yet. I'm not sure how I can. I feel dishonest, not only with those people around me that love me but with myself. Over some stupid peer pressure. I jumped headfirst into a stupid decision and regretted it instantly. I drove to a friends house; okay not a friend, a man who I knew had feelings for me; and laid down to snuggle him. I've never regretted something so much. All I could think of were the many bible verses that I memorized this year. I was convicted, and that's the only thing that kept me from breaking my vow of honor further by sleeping with him. This is my confession I suppose.

I haven't processed it. Like many other things in my life, I put it in a box, then threw it into the closet of my mind. I regret it. Oh, how I regret it. But I cant move backwards. I can only go forward, and allow it to be a guiding post rather than a hitching post. I can learn from it or live in it.

The thing is, a year ago, I would've allowed myself to fall right back into it. I'd have allowed myself to become cynical. The changes that the lord has done in me are evident. I have hope. I have change, transformational love. I do indeed have a hope and a future, but only in Him.

Now, to tell or not to tell? I have to tell someone. Or it'll stay in that box forever. But I'm scared. I'm still living somewhere that if they knew they might kick me out. But they need to know. Well, one person in particular needs to know. And if I tell her I know how disappointed she'll be in me. But she's been such a huge part of my journey, she deserves to know. I have to confess for accountabilities sake. I love honor and respect her. She deserves to know.

Yesterday marks 9 months being a sober woman.
My identity for so many months had been wrapped up in the hurt I was concealing. The pain of life touched me first when I was eight years old. My father left when I was 6 months old, but the reality that he was never coming back didn't hit me until that moment. I felt truly abandoned.

 But this is not a post about my father. This post is about emerging from my cocoon of safety and the journey of peeling back the layers of hard shell I had built.

I miss it so much sometimes. I miss the excitement of shedding my clothes, the seductive dancing and the thrill of feeling mens eyes dance over my body.

I do not miss their objectification of me as a sexual gratification tool. I do not miss their hands grabbing at my breasts or my ass. I do not miss the lonely nights, the realization of how sad I was or the pain of coming down from the high. I don't miss having crazy eyes, my pupils covering any trace of ocean. I was a great white, ready to devour any chance at sex, hungry and crazed, blinded to all but the pursuit. It was a thrilling dance, a game of cat and mouse. The end result left on of us bleeding and dead on the floor. I sold my soul for baggies of powder, tied off like a tourniquet to life's adversity. I thought that because I was letting them use me, I was still in control. How mistaken I was.

They left me hurt, with a feminist perspective. Fueled by my hurt and loneliness, I threw myself into a 6 month bender of one night stands, drug induced sensuality, waking up at the beach in bed with someone I didn't actually know. They aren't to blame, this is not an accusatory statement. What man can resist a sultry young ass, grinding on them? That's all I was. In my head it was love, they were secretive, mysterious prized game to be conquered. In reality, they were probably just as hurt as I was, aching to be respected, willing to whisper the right nothings in exchange for a release of pleasure. I was a game, not a respected woman. I was, in essence a blow up doll.

There was one man, however who respected me more than I respected myself. He saw me through eyes of love and wanted better for me. He saw the future we might have, and tried for it. He loved me where I was at, yet asked me to do better, for him, but more so for myself. He tried to save me. He took me in. His mother loved me, she treated me like a daughter and helped me make him a photo album. He tried to see the best in the selfish, hurt, spoiled child that I was. And I rid myself of him. I texted him that it wasn't working out just before giving head to a married man in the backseat of his Honda. I was trash. I didn't deserve the prince that he was. He treated me with love, honor and respect. When we first started dating, I told him I wasn't ready to have sex and he waited 5 weeks. He didn't care about the sex. He wanted my happiness. He wanted my trust. I was a crazy junkie but he saw through that and loved the woman beneath the façade.