Not a Criminal Unisex T-Shirt

Depression Monologue pt.1

I wrote some of this a couple years ago, and then while I felt like I was on a roll, and I couldn’t keep them up because I wasn’t able to handle  the criticism that came from the source I was talking about.

Now I know better and I want my story heard.

I was created by an abuser and a drug addict. The abuser did what abusers do while the drug addict was pregnant. She decided to adopt me out because she feared for her life. She tells me know it was because she had already dealt with several abusive people and she didn’t want to be trapped by another one. But at the same time also telling me that I was definitely “wanted”.  She swears she wasn’t on drugs while pregnant, idk. She has all the “right” reasons as to why she adopted a baby out, but all I see is a weak ass person who couldn’t save themselves for the sake of their children. I do mean children plural because she has two other kids, who are older than me, and who have had to live lives of fear and abuse just to get to where they are now. The only problem I had when I found all this out, was I thought (at the time) that nothing I had gone through was abuse. The biggest caveat of abuse is there are different severity levels, but it all does the same thing in the brain.

I was adopted at 4 days old, somehow they were able to adopt to the Mothership’s family, her sister. Now, keep this in mind while reading all this, at this time of my life I have feelings of remorse towards the Christine that didn’t know about abuse, PTSD, CPTSD, and Depression. But here we are, and when I get into that pattern of thinking, I have to remind myself why this work is important.

ADOPTION IS TRAUMA.


I was adopted at four days old and I was adopted into my motherships family by her sister
A lot of people will say that I had it a lot better than other people just because of that simple fact that I didn’t have to go find my family. I guess you could say that’s right.
I don’t feel any different than other adoptees though everything Ive read about adoptees, we all share the same hole in our soul where a mother should be.
So the initial loss of mother is super traumatic for babies and it can take only 45 minutes of separation from a mother to for baby to feel complete despair. So.
At that point when our brains get into that space they just can’t cope with the fact that the one thing that they were supposed to be able to rely on isn’t there anymore?


So there’s year one of my initial depression. It probably could have got better if I had proper supports throughout my life time. But I don’t think that that was ever going to be a possibility because of the amount of selfish acts that have been bestowed upon me from my adoptive mom. She will tell you every day that she loves me more than anything else on the planet and that I’m the only reason why she’s happy and all this stuff well she puts a lot of fucking responsibility on me to make her happy when it is entirely her own.. I just got into therapy this year and I found out that um,
I’m not wrong in being super mad at my mom all the time. I’m actually living through all my past trauma that I’ve stuffed down and it’s really hard because now my kids are seeing me go through this and I really hope that they just think that I’m hella strong I guess because I don’t want them to think that I wasn’t doing all of this for them.
I mean, some of it’s for me because it’s healing, you know, that’s just the cathartic I guess but I just want my kids to know that I really do love them. I don’t want them to feel like I do as an adult or like how other adults feel that all of their parents actions were governed by their own selfish desires as opposed to trying to be better for their children that they brought into the world.
So when I sit around and think about what I want to write it’s everything, it’s always pain it’s always that’s something I want you guys to hear and feel because this isn’t a joke for me this is my life.
The first time I got told that I had depression was by my mom at around 12 years old, she had said something along the lines of you’ve always had depression and I don’t remember really anything else. I have a really terrible memory from my childhood but if I’ve always had depression then why weren’t you getting me help for that instead?
She was always trying to get me to take some weird herbal remedies that didn’t help. You know, you really can’t cover up depression without getting to the root of it you really can’t and if you’re not willing to get to the roots of it, then you’re gonna be on prescription medications the rest of your life. (you know, unless you acutally have to maintain life saving medications)
It’s hard work people.
This is a fight every single day for me to stay alive because there’s a part of me that wants me dead and that part of me scares me so much but it all stems from the things. I’ve had to endure as a child and it just baffles me that more people aren’t given a little bit more leeway about this kind of stuff when they’re just allowing these people to treat these kids this way after knowing that it’s causing psychological damage, so. I’m super over it.
I don’t even know if I’m gonna be able to fix myself, but I know that I’m giving the tools to my children to help themselves earlier than Me like I didn’t start helping myself until my mid to late twenties and I feel. Like late to the party because of that so I want to make sure my kids have the tools they need to sort through their traumas because they are obviously getting.
Before they get to the point of adulthood that it doesn’t make sense anymore and it’s really hard because it’s gonna be really hard anyway, but it’s not that. It’s less hard when you’re not fighting the solidification of your neural pathways.


I remember one of the first times I ever felt depressed it was right after my mom brought home so diet pills and got really excited about trying them she was really overweight at the time and was trying a bunch of different stuff to try to not be so overweight anymore, but she was telling me about how I was super overweight and I needed to do that stuff too, so I ended up using diet pills and trying to do some of this stuff my mom was doing but you know, I was a kid I wasn’t trying to actually do any of that stuff. I was just trying to be a kid so that was one of the first times I remember her telling me I was depressed after not taking the meds, I felt really low and I didn’t know why but, looking back now,
I have been depressed my entire life. I have had this hole and pit of my soul and I cannot  escape from it.
The next significant time was when I was a teenager and you know how teenagers are they’re all moody because of their hormones and stuff so I’m a moody teenager but I’m also depressed I’m depressed because I’m not realizing the amount of actual abuse I was suffering because I didn’t know anything about it at the time so I’m not even gonna try to make myself feel bad about not knowing anything back then because how could I?
.. I just want to stop talking for a minute. Some of this might bounce around a little bit and that’s okay. (im using a transcribe to get these thoughts down, im leaving this here to show that, just in case my editing misses something from the transcription.)


One of my earliest memories that causes me pain to this day is a fight that my parents had and I think the reason why it causes me pain is because when I brought it up as an older person to try to sort out my feelings from that night, my mom got super defensive swore that that never happened that I was imagining things and that was that. And that was one of the pinnacle moments in my life that I realized my mom wasn’t gonna help me with anything anymore and she was gonna call me a liar about my own memory. Six months later. I decided to start doing some more research into what the fuck was going on.
I really was looking at myself because everything I had been told leads me to believe that everything was in with within my own control and that if anything was wrong, it was entirely my fault.
So as a young adult, I took it all upon myself and it wasn’t until I was like fuck. I don’t know like 28 that I had to do some random ass Google search after an encounter with my mom and my exact search was, “Why doesn’t my mother love me?”
I had to ask Google that question. And it still makes me tear up to this day. The thing is, I really didn’t think that she didn’t love me at the time because I didn’t know anything different. But when I actually started to look into reasons why she was doing what she was doing? Led me to believe that my mom is a narcissist, her neural pathways have solidified into narcissism and she governs herself for herself and with little regard to anyone else’s self.
I’ve had to block her from my social media and I try not to talk to her very much now because when I do it’s super painful and she doesn’t help me. She doesn’t help validate my pain that I’ve gone through but she wants validation for her pain and whenever I try to talk to her about the kind of pain that I’ve had from my childhood, she turns it around to where it was either all my fault or absolutely not her fault.
A couple times she’s actually told me well, there’s nothing I can do that at now you need to deal with it. So it’s just really difficult going through that kind of stuff even  if you don’t have somebody who’s invalidating you constantly.
I mentioned before, last time I wrote this stuff out I actually had commenters commenting and I think they were actually commenting on behalf of my mom because of some of the things they said literally hit me straight to my core and it the only person that could say stuff like that is my mom so I ended up deleting all those posts because I couldn’t handle the backlash I guess of someone not appreciating my standpoint of my own life and then I’m realizing now a few years later that what fucking bullshit is that she came up on my depression monologue and decided to tell me I was wrong again about how I am depressed and why or where it comes from.
And now I don’t have any sympathy for her. I don’t give a fuck if she feels bad she should feel bad. She didn’t take the necessary precautions or steps to try to be a better parent all the time, she literally just did what she had to do to get by and now she’s an old lady and she thinks that she did well.


And I have news for her.


I remember when I was like 15 to maybe 14 to. 18. I was super confused and yeah a lot of it was hormones. I couldn’t sleep most of the time. I stayed up all night.
I’d stay up all day. I would take naps in classes. Just thinking about it now that the depression I had then was way less than the depression I have now and I have worse depression now because I have not been able to address it until now.
There’s been several times in my life where I had moments that I felt like I knew more than my own mom. And not in a sense of everyday knowledge or not a knowledge only teenagers would know as opposed to adults, you know, not that kind of stuff. I’m talking about like I felt more mature than my mom at 15 and it showed in some of our conversations and the way that she communicated with me.
When I had talked to my dad about it, he confirmed it but told me not to talk to her about it because he thinks that she isn’t able to handle it. So it’s something that he knew about but he wasn’t going to talk to me about it unless I brought it up to him, you know.

I  get it, if my mom was hella depressed and couldn’t fucking help herself but she got herself into therapy and got herself on the meds and still consistently made our lives like we were all living on eggshells constantly. And it was our responsibility that she wasn’t happy. The reason why I believe that is because she still tells me to this day that I’m the only reason why she’s happy so she literally put her happiness in the responsibility of other people.
So. Now when I’m going through all of this stuff, I don’t even want to talk to her about it because I know she’s going to invalidate me and that after that encounter. I’m going to feel even worse than I did before because when someone invalidates you for the way you feel or the memories you remember it puts you down into a little hole and it’s really hard to get out.
So one of the first Instances I remember being depressed was this was maybe a couple years after or year after that fight  I was telling you about that my mom tells me never happened anyway that fight was really scary for me as a kid. I don’t think I’d ever seen anything really like that up to that point.
I guess I don’t really know. I probably had because my parents did fight a lot anyway. One of the most traumatic things for my childhood besides getting adopted was that fight and then I don’t even know how much time had passed but my mom. I think we were living in a different house but my mom had gotten into argument with my dad and then told everybody she was leaving and never coming back.
I don’t know what she was expecting like was she expecting my dad to act like me who was not consolable fucking the entire time she was gone but then she came in and talked to me and I thought I felt better but I know now I never felt better she’s never been a stable person for me, she’s always threatened to leave me.
Always and I already had one mom just completely not give a fuck enough to want to raise me, so that feels extra awful. So she threatens to leave whenever she gets upset and you know that went on for years and  I kind of became numb to it, but it always hurt me whenever she threatened to leave.
Well as the years went on she I guess she realized that that wasn’t working anymore and then went to threatening to kill herself but she would only do that when she felt like she wasn’t getting her way. I know now why she probably did it but it doesn’t make it right because I’m not running around telling my kids that kind of shit like I told my kids.
I don’t want to be here that my life sucks, but that’s how I feel and I tell them that’s how I feel and has nothing to do with them, it’s all me, I have a mental illness and I don’t know what it is, so. When we get to that point that me figuring out what it is, then we’re gonna figure out whether or not you guys have it because if you guys have it and if I ignore that I’m no good no better than my own mom.
So at one point in my teenage years, she had taken me to her own therapist because of finding my hate page in my journal. Now this was just one of those days, I came home from school and school was always awful. And I kind of knew there was something weird going on but when I walked up to the house, my mom was in the kitchen with the window open like she was waiting for me to come home and I felt in immediate sense of dread.
And then she started screaming at me about my journal as if it was something wrong which then she took me to her therapist because she swore to God I was demonic or whatever. I don’t know what she really thought. I’m not even trying to put thoughts in her head or words in her mouth, but she acted like I was just the worst I guess because she took me to her therapist with the journal and some comics that I had. (Johnny the homicidal maniac).
The therapist asked me about the comics, he asked me why I read them? I told him. I felt they were interesting. I really don’t have any homicidal tendencies but I really just thought that the idea was funny and some of the concepts inside of the comment comic itself are really deep and I enjoy reading something that has more substance than romance novels. To which he decided to reply that that was totally fine. I got validated by a therapist at 15 because my mom was telling him I was crazy but it wasn’t me it was fucking her.
So then he talks to me about my journal and my journaling was what most journaling is talking about all the things and emotions or happenings, and I had a page in my journal that was called the hate page and I had a titled hate page at the top and within that page content was a bunch of scribbles and on it.
I wrote I hate my mom and then scribbled over the top of it with whatever I had at the time, so if I was hating my mom at the time or really, Mad at her whatever I would go into that page and just let it all out on it on that page so you couldn’t really see that it said I hate my mom because of how much hate was on top of it but like you could tell it was directed towards someone but I put it in a book, it’s a safe place to keep those really big emotions, right?
That’s what the therapist thought also so then he asked me if I had any concerns or questions for him because now we realize that I’m not the crazy one. I’m just a teenager having to deal with this crazy lady. And I told him my mom constantly threatens to kill herself and she tells me she’s going to take handfuls of pills and he teared up he had this look on his face like.
I don’t even know.
So basically part of my coping is now getting all this stuff back out because since my teenage years. I’ve just kept it in. I stopped journaling. I can’t bring myself to do it anymore. I’m constantly worried that someone’s going to fucking find it and read it and come at me again and that’s just silly because I know better I know that journaling super healthy and, That will make me feel a lot better more often than not but at the same time fuck I’m scarred.

That’s kind of what this blog is about. I really want to turn this into the journal I need for my life but I find a lot find having a hard time actually sitting down at the computer it runs really slow so now I’m going to try to do this transcript thing where I just talk to the phone and then I’ll upload all this wordage to my email and then send it to me and then I’ll just edit it and post it and I think that might actually work out a lot easier than trying to hand type all this stuff out because I’m not good at typing.
I’m not good at writing and I don’t like doing it hurts my hands, so I have a really hard time doing it long term.
I think this is going to be the end of part one because I don’t really have anything else to say. I feel pretty good about what I’ve said so far and I don’t care what anybody has to say into the contrary about my own personal feelings because how on earth are you able to tell me how the fuck I feel?
If you’re reading this this far, I love you. I wish you the best regardless of what you wish me because we should all just get the best from every person we encounter. Because nobody deserves to get treated like crap just because of something that happened to you before you encountered that person and most people are not retrospective enough to be able to pinpoint why they’re even upset so they just are snapping at random people all the time.
So with that being said, I love you all. I hope you all have a great day and stay safe out there.

BoneMomma’s Podcast New Episode Announcement!

direct link to podcast

Otherwise, you can find us on spotify! The episode new episode takes a few days to upload to spotify.

BoneMomma’s Mission statement (a podcast)

I ran a review and smoke sesh this evening after my plans for something else needed to be put down. The good news is, i am getting much better at editing the vocal tracks so, there should be much less everything soon. Stay tuned!

https://www.podbean.com/eu/pb-niwuk-f90012

Cannabis rice cereal and marshmallow treats. (Also chocolate and peanut butter dipped)

I was out running some errands and helping my aunt. When I got home I decided to do the dipping. There’s a recipe to follow, so stay tuned…

A painting by Shantel Owens. With a plate of Cannabis Rice Cereal and Marshmallow Treats. The painting depicts colorful flowing hair coming from a larger face,with a smaller face as if in an embrace, I perceive a mother hugging her child. Their eyes are closed and the smaller head has it’s mouth slightly open. 🤗😊☺️

I love this painting, it means so much to me, and I look at it often. My husband suggested using it for a backdrop for my edibles, and I think this is a great idea! 😊

White paper background, wire rack, background clutter. Peanut butter dipped, Cannabis Rice Cereal and Marshmallow Treats .
White paper background, wire rack, background clutter. Forward, Cannabis Rice Cereal and Marshmallow Treats, that have been dipped in chocolate.

Find your ultimate texture of rice cereal and marshmallow treats.

How do you like yours? I like mine a little gooey, with good flavor. I just add a little bit more vanilla extract ( vanilla bean and alcohol) to the melted marshmallow mix first.

On with the recipe I promise!

A painting by Shantel Owens. On the left a black mug with a cannabis pipe in the handle, also full of tea. Next to a clear plate with two chocolate and three peanut butter rice crispy treats

Tools:

X L Sheet pan or sanitized counter, or xl buttered bowl.

Parchment paper cut into 2-4pcs.

Spoons, pot, double boiler, wire rack.

1# (any brand) rice cereal

1.5# (any brand marshmallow)

2 Tablespoons of vanilla extract.

1/4c coconut oil infused with 1.5g of keif (decarbed).

(optional)

1/4tsp salt

Chocolate dip
1/2c chocolate chips

1tsp coconut oil.

Peanut butter dip, melt some peanut butter.

Directions:

Let the coconut oil, melt and then melt keif into it, add 1/4 marshmallows. Melt together, stirring to check bottom for melt/burn. You don’t want burning. Lol

Add a splash, two, maybe three whatever you’ve got to do of vanilla extract, homemade or store bought, no one’s judging.

Mix. It in very well until really fragrant. Then start adding Marshmallows 1 or 2 handfuls at a time. Fully melt them, then add more. Do this until all the marshmallows are incorporated and melted. This helps prevent spilling out of the pot, and inconsistent melting that I feel takes longer to manage all at once.

Whatever you’re going to mix this in, have it lightly greased to prevent sticking. I liked mixing it out on a flat surface as I felt the mix was more complete.

Once thoroughly mixed, press into a parchment paper lined pan.. for this recipe I used a 9×18 I think…

Place another sheet of parchment paper over the top, and use a tool like a rolling pin or jar to flatten it out. Make sure to check with your (clean) hands for any edges that may pop up. It compresses nicely if it’s mixes all the way.

Leave covered, “cure” for 24 hrs, cut into strips, then into small squares. I weighed mine out to 18g Each piece. The entire batch weighed 1200g.

Set aside 22 and dip them to try! That’s 11 of each, and I only use these numbers because that’s how many treats there were that were 18g but a rectangle. So, 11 of each. Dip. Them and place them on the wire rack dipped side up, to set. (I’m aware there is probably a better way to do this, but I am open for some constructive criticism)

This recipe is actually scaled down from the ones I made. I want to break down the math I’m using, feel free to criticize as you will, if you need to.

The product I’m using is a home grown mix blended trim. The averaged thc potency amount was 500mg of thc per gram. So, to break the recipe down I started making it way too potent for myself. I put 30g of keif in there and each piece is 200mg.

For the recipe, the math will be simple to scale up or down from there to adjust your recipe.

1g of my Keif is 500mg of thc/g
1.5=750mg of tch/g
750mg÷66= 10mg ea(rounded own to account for loss)

I want to include a disclaimer, as you continue to use cannabis, have had gastric surgery and/or some other causes could create a loss of edible reactivity. I suggest trying sublinguals. I will always suggest to wait at least an hour between edibles to start, And then eat a little more.

Chocolate dipped Cannabis Rice Cereal and Marshmallow Treats on a wire rack with a white paper background.
Peanut Butter Dipped Cannabis Rice Cereal and Marshmallow Treats.

A painting by Shantel Owens, as the background. A clear plate with 2 Chocolate dipped Rice Cereal and Marshmallow Treats, and 3 Peanut Butter Dipped Cannabis Rice Cereal and Marshmallow Treats.

I’m High and I want to make some Candy.

My next intense study in the world of making cannabis edibles is candy making. I have already dabbled in it, and then I took a break for mental health, which if you follow me or are paying attention I have an undiagnosed mental illness. There is some speculation from several people, mostly doctors that I am absolutely fine and nothing is wrong with me, I’m just fat and I need to spend more time outdoors. To that I will agree to the extent that lately I haven’t found a lot of enjoyment in my usual things. I mean, it’s taken me everything to not kill all my plants this winter. And winter isn’t over, it’s just almost 80 degrees F in California in January. You know… NO BIG DEAL right…….. I wonder if there are already talks of relocating people to a more habitable area of the planet now that it’s becoming so hot, we may all pass out one day from heat exhaustion… Is this stuff you think about?

Back to candy making, I got a few flavors and I am really excited to try the root beer ones. So far the people I have told about them seem really interested. The one thing I had a hard time with before was a moisture problem I think. I have yet to purchase citric acid, I know! I know! But, I feel like it wasn’t exactly a melty thing so much as a degradation of the bonds holding the crystals together. They ended up crumbling into pillow mint texture and that was not pleasing at all. One thing I considered was that I hadn’t actually gotten the candy up to the right temperature, while I was talking to other people online about it, I found out that the hard crack is actually over 300degrees F. that may be a problem since the thermometer I’m using (a specific to candy thermometer) says hard crack is like 280. So, when we make our next batch, we will take the temp up to 350, then add the tincture, flavor and whatever else needs to be added.

Cannabis Candy

I finally got around to doing it….

I have finally acquired the domain name, something i’ve been putting off for 2 years! and really longer. I then had a weird week where I wrote things but felt awkward posting. It was like, all of a sudden, I could not get my butt in gear to post anything… again… wtf really, spend money, shut down. good. now that we have that out of the way, I am having the worst time recording audio. Does anyone reading this have any tips or suggestions?

3 helpful ways to manage arguments.

I have all these plans, and then something happens and 4 days go by. It’s a reoccurring theme, and I am so tired of beating myself up for the same things over and over again. Can I still be considered a productive person even if my production is within a smaller time period than others? The answer is definitely yes.

That is not why I brought you here today, I actually want to tell you about an argument I had with my husband this last week. And by tell you about it, I don’t mean the details about why we were arguing, but I want to highlight what happened throughout the entire 4 day process to coming to a better place than we felt like we were before. A stronger place.

I do want to provide a disclaimer about arguments, they do not go to any kind of plan. In fact, if you try to plan an argument, you will most likely fail and definitely get hurt. So, be careful what kinds of people you are pressing, and be careful of the assumed outcome since when you get your hopes up to a certain level of expectation the fall is harder than if you hadn’t.

I have been falling out of love with alcohol for a while, but I ended up getting sick this last week. I had a few beers, and a few shots and I ended up sicker than I ever had before in my life. My husband took care of me, and helped me for 3 days. Even though, that night we were drinking I smacked him in the face and he threatened to leave me.

I do not take pride in those actions, I would go so far as to say that they aren’t me. And I’ve never hit my husband before that day and I never want to again. That moment though is what perplexes me the most, for the duration of the argument I was insisting that he does the same thing I was suggesting  that I wanted to do, but he got more and more upset at the thought of the argument being turned around like that. So, although I did not want to make him feel bad, you know we both said some hurtful things. And that’s when my uncontrollable moment happened. I know it was lashing out at whatever he said, but I don’t feel like what he said was actually important. What was important was what was said after, He threatened to divorce me.

Now under threat of divorce I am not thinking clearly at all. But, I did not rush out the door, I waited until everyone was comfortable and I went for a walk. On that walk I made a voice recording, and in that recording I exaggerated the truth of events, and conveniently left out the fact that I had hit my husband. I hit him more than once, but only once physically. Emotionally I hit him. I cornered him with truth he did want to accept, and made him think about a life where he had to be accountable for his actions.

In the days that followed that initial fight, my other immediate relationships crumbled a bit and I had to repair those also. The first one is my oldest daughter, I snapped at her about something that is a big deal, but could be handled so differently. I had to turn it around and express to her that I knew I was in the wrong with my actions, they do have deep underlying reasons, but they’re not excuses for my actions. Now, before coming to her like this, I was sure she would never talk to me again. After this, she talks to me more and understands where all this came from.

I played the voice recording to my husband, and let him know beforehand that I wasn’t truthful, or at least I omitted facts from it, but at the core I really needed him to hear the raw emotion behind the actions of the whole evening. This is 4 days later mind you, and after hours of deflecting the actual conversation I was able to get his full attention and he listened.

What he heard was an emotional cry, and a balancing act between someone too tough for their own good and someone so afraid of being alone that they do stupid shit in spite of that fact. So, there I was and there he was. He has a problem to solve for himself, but I don’t want to be so emotionally invested in his problem anymore if it’s going to lead me to be out of control of my actions like that. I am so glad that we were able to get back to a state of harmony together, and I wanted to share with you what it is you should be looking for.

Three things to look for in an argument, to figure out what the argument is really about…

1. Who started it, what kinds of things were they saying? In our case, I started the argument by suggesting I wanted to walk to the store while drunk, and I instigated the argument by bringing my husband’s alcoholism to the table and introduced them to their behavior.

2. How are you behaving after, what hurt you the most? In the days that followed I was completely upset and sick, take the sick out and I would have been more outwardly upset than I was. While trying not to lash out at my kids too much, I had to dig deep to figure out exactly what it was that hurt me, and why I was still feeling like a kid pushed out of shape.

3. What kind of steps can you do to correct the actions? Or at the very least explain them, offer apology and consolation. When I was processing the whole series of events, I kept this first question in mind the whole time, what am I going to do to make this better? I was able to explain why I had gotten so upset, and hopefully got my husband to see that he means the world to us. I apologized and I heard his pain from the evening also. I respected that there were two people being hurt at the same time. It wasn’t just me, and it wasn’t just him.

After this, you will know if this is going to be one of those life lessons or just a passing thing. I am hoping for a passing event for you all, those are more manageable than life lessons.

Hopefully an inspiration, or a laugh whatever you need.

It started just like all of yours, with a finger full of whiskey in my mouth to shut me the fuck up.

Ah, memories… I really only remember the first wine cooler my mom offered me a taste of, and those things were disgusting but so alluring. Why did we always ask for more sips? We always thought they were gross!

 The next time after that was in high school when I was dared to bring beer to school because the kids thought it was so strange to hear me go “yeah, my parents have had a six pack in the fridge for months!” so the next day I brought one to school. To my group of peers, and showed it to them. “See? Now who wants it? *AUDIBLE GASP* someone murmurs “that’s how you get expelled”. Yeah, fuck that kid I guess, that shit made me panic so I just threw the bottle across the quad. We could have been amazed at how far it went, except it had landed in front of a trolling/roaming group of teachers/office staff. Oh boy! Here we go, I’m definitely getting expelled, and my mom is going to kill me…. For sure….

Every time the bell rang that day I felt my fate was drawing nearer to the end, surely none of those people would prevent me from getting expelled, kids are notorious for throwing anyone under the buss if they think they may get in trouble.  And it just so happened that my math teacher was one of the teachers strolling along the flight path that day… I had him in 4th period and I threw the beer at like 7:30am so, I had been internally freaking out all day. I get to class, he makes a small mention of having several students in for questioning, and after all that, nothing. ABSOFUCKING NOTHING! I have never been more grateful for a group of people I don’t talk to in my life.                         

Fast forward to late teens, I first got into heavily drinking for socializing at 18. A friend of mine brought his older brothers id card to the party we got invited to, so I took him to the store and we bought 1 bottle of Skyy vodka, and a few sport top water bottles. So, inexperienced drinkers will not mix their drinks because they don’t know better,  children of alcoholics don’t question why you’re not buying a chaser because that would be “Pussy shit” (not my opinion, someone said that to me once) So, that’s saying a lot about the kids I was hanging out with I guess… We get to this party, which I had already dumped out the water and put alcohol into the water bottles and then, too them into this party. I feel bad about it now, because of how much trouble the homeowners could have gotten into… but please remember, I was 18 and making bad decisions. We get into this party, and it is AWESOME! It’s a wonder we thought alcohol would make it better, and guess what? It did not make the party more fun, in fact I could go so far as to say, I was probably having the “Most fun” although, wondering why no one else is drinking as much as you and then begging some for mcds fries is not exactly highlights. But wait, there’s more….. We get back to the house after getting mcds and I don’t go into the house. I sit on the curb just down the street, puke up the fries I just ate, asked whoever was there to get my friend who was driving my car…. Just then a 10ft tall police officer walked up and started asking questions like “where did you come from” “where are you going” “why are you sitting next to puke”  to which I answered “ I came from Starbucks, to get my friend who went into that house <pointed> and OMG! That’s gross, who puked here?!!?!??! “idk if it worked, but the cop walked away from me……

I don’t have specific clear memories of exact nights anymore. They all kind of just blur together. Around 19 I started going to a bar that had a kitchen and played a lot of local bands. I celebrated my 20’Th birthday as my “21st” and just got to hang out there and never once had my id checked. It was as if I had reached a level of adulthood I had only imagined had existed. The bartender was pissed to find out how old I was on my actual 21st birthday. She was like, what the fuck bone? I just looked at her and smiled. What can happen now?

A lot happened, well six days before that moment I found out I was 3 months pregnant, and I just so happened to still be dating the guy who is the father. I quit drinking immediately, and soon learned that no one will give up a substance for you, for love or for anything other than whatever it is that motivates them to do so. During my pregnancy I allowed myself to be abused and mistreated, made fun of and worst of all, most of that shit came from my child’s father, and/or was encouraged by him. In any case, we stayed together until that baby was 18months old and he tried to take her away from me, broke my door down over my head, and thank goodness I kicked him out and he wasn’t a fucking weirdo more so than what I’ve described. I feel truly blessed that dude left me the fuck alone. It probably had a lot to do with the fact that he had already been seeing someone else, no one is more relieved than I!

At the time I didn’t see any sort of issue with the way I conducted myself, and didn’t even associate with people who didn’t drink. It’s like we were oil and water, when it was probably me being avoidant. I did notice myself questioning whether or not I wanted to be in my 50’s, like some of the other people I partied with, and then as soon as that question flew through my head the number started shrinking. Eventually I was internally telling myself “you’re not really going to drink away your thirties?” yeah… so, I want to say my first internal reflection of alcohol use started around 22, and I just evolved into this person who is now 35, drinks once a month and ends up sick for a week damn near. I actually think that I almost died the other day because of a few beers and a few shots. 3 days later and I’m still recovering, and Idk if I will ever be the same.

During the time of my mid 20’s I had a series of unfortunate events that lead to a DUI. And, thankfully, no one was injured and there wasn’t an accident. I don’t even care to get into all those details, but let’s just say, the law will catch up to you. When I went to jail that night, I knew I had to do something drastic to get my shit together or I was going to end up within the statistics of repeat offenders. So, I sold my car and for the next two years I walked to work (2miles each way) and I would take my kid to school a couple days and pick her up every day (3 miles each way) (graveyard shift) some days walking upwards of 12 miles in one day because of having to walk everywhere. I had been able to pay off my fines with my tax return a few months after getting the dui, but I had to wait a whole year for another tax return to pay for my classes, insurance, and license. At the time, I was only making $70.00 more than what my bills were a month, so, that’s why it took as long as it did. I found a car pretty quick, and as soon as I was mobile again, what did I do? I went out and hung out with my “friends” wanna know how many of those people I still talk to? 1. That is a ok in my book too because once you realize people are only around you for the content you provide and nothing else, then it kind of feels like they are liars and I don’t want anything to do with that. Several people I knew at the time would openly make fun of me for being concerned and try to get them sober drivers. At one point, I had been able to record them actually dangling keys in front of me chanting “bones wants our keys to keep us safe”. Those ladies all got what they deserved. After that 6month stint I really refocused and kept asking myself, is this it? Is this how I want to be for the rest of my life?

My real question now is, are other people asking themselves the same questions? I’ve come so far, and after the last time I drank, I don’t ever want to do that to myself again. I’m pretty sure throwing up bile for 2 days is a sign y’all. Not going to miss it either. Some people think that beer/alcohol us the life of the party but maybe if we could all just get a fucking life then we wouldn’t need alcohol to make us feel that way.

Because you’re not ever actually going to be the life of the party, the one who thinks that passes out or pukes… and you know, alcohol has been with humanity for centuries, the ancient Mayans butt funneled alcohol because drinking it did not get them fucked up enough.

But hey, you do you, and I will do me. And no thank you, every single time you offer because, yuck.

I have been affected by toxic positivity, have you?

I have been affected by toxic positivity.

So I was cruising Instagram the other day and I stumbled across this post by @Whenthemusicstops and I felt compelled to put down my thoughts regarding this subject.

I want to take this time to say, if you are following, thank you! And if you aren’t, would you like to? We’d be happy to have you here. You can also find us on Twitter, YouTube, Podbean, as well as Facebook.

So, toxic positivity. What the heck is all this about? What do you mean we shouldn’t tell people to think positive, or to feel better soon?  What is really going on here that we should be looking at? I believe it stems from societal culture that has decided at one point that stifling uncomfortable feelings is what everyone thinks is best. Now, maybe this has some good, like not having a meltdown in a grocery store because you and your husband got into an argument versus melting down at home. But, what it morphed into is something sick, that is creating a lot of disconnect from our true selves and leaving a lot of people in the wake.

Good Vibes only tells a lot of people that they shouldn’t feel bad at all.  Keeping a positive mindset isn’t getting people out of depression or anxiety. Everything doesn’t have to happen a reason to have happened. It makes the gold dust of life lose its luster. And for me that is really sad. This is the kind of stuff my depression stems from. It’s also found in so many different areas of our life from work conversations, home conversations, friends, family, social media. It is literally everywhere, and helping absolutely no one at the same time.

Do you know what it feels like to have someone say those things to you?  Do you have to tell yourself that they are definitely well intentioned even though it kind of stings a little? Maybe they could just listen a little longer, or validate me. Instead I’m being told that this awful feeling/thing happened for a reason and I am expected to think happy thoughts until it goes away. But the bad thoughts and feelings don’t go away, those same people will also share memes about how stored emotions turn into ailments. So, why is there such a big disconnect?

Basically there is somewhere in the in-between that we should all find. We all need to work on handling our own and others emotions better. Like, we could all get to the point when our people who need us can rely on us without feeling invalidated. I think it’s going to take a lot of work on our part. We all have a whole pie to work with when it comes to what we have to do.

So what does this look like? It could be as simple as just nodding in place of “platitudes” or any other form of invalidation. Or saying, “I’m here for you” instead of “just think happy thoughts” Or instead of saying “Everything happens for a reason” say this instead, “That must be really hard”, here is one more example,” Happiness is a choice” versus “your feelings are valid”. These simple phrase alternatives can do so much in such a short amount of time, when you notice the relief in someone’s face the first time you use your new lexicon for these kinds of things, it will make you feel better too.

The relief is what everyone needs. Be the relief someone needs, hopefully together we can change the way we interact with other people to actually make the world a better place from the inside for real instead of just covering it up, shutting it up and ignoring it.

I want to thank the few places I’ve fallen down rabbit holes in while researching for this topic, go check out their material on the subject!

Very Well Mind -What is Toxic Positivity https://www.verywellmind.com/what-is-toxic-positivity-5093958

Healthline _‘Toxic Positivity’ Is Real — and it’s a Big Problem During the Pandemic https://www.healthline.com/health/mental-health/toxic-positivity-during-the-pandemic

I wanted to add and edit! I also made a podcast on the topic, so here’s the link for that…. https://mcdn.podbean.com/mf/web/rme6bd/Toxic_positivity_mixdown8n45e.mp3

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