Scarletlips5

I've apparently been an addict since I was in 6th grade, the year i tried everything accept heroine and meth. Lived life as a fly on the wall,the smart kid who was the least worry compared to my gangster siblings, therefore my obsession with escaping life went unnoticed.  Became obsessed with meth at 14, my escape after being sexually assaulted. I managed to pay nerds to do my homework and Teachers aids to mark me on attendance and inappropriate relationships with teachers to keep my fighting and other issues from my parents as i worked 40 hrs a week at a restaurant, headed the Church youth group, (thank God for natural ability) aced every test and participated in a handful of school activities to at least get a participation letter for my jacket which kept my family too busy boasting to actually pay attention to me. Moved in with my bf at 16 and still graduated top 3% of american highschool seniors and began charming my way to the top at whatever job fell into my lap. Kept up appearances as i began my family with the abusive highschool sweetheart. Regular ol leave it to beaver couple according to the outsiders. At 19 got clean and stayed clean for 10 years, no room for drugs when ur trophy wife, mother, soccer coach, sole bread winner, etc. Asshole relapsed and lost his mind from one drug free moment to one hit of the pipe the next moment. Just like that when i was 28, he was lights on no ones home, kicked him out which began his stalking and my life lived in constant fear but never letting anyone know- just kept on pretending and protecting the kids. Til i couldn't anymore. I relapsed about 3 years ago, out of resentment that he got to go crazy and get high while i yearned for my escape but never had a chance to breathe. He went to Patton state mental hospital for stalking me and other shit and i finally fell apart one relapse at a time. Each one consuming more and more days. Met a man much younger than I, who was much wiser and loved me more than i loved myself. He made me face that i was an addict and manned up for me and my kids while i dealt with all that was broken for so long. Dont get me wrong my addiction tried to take him out... Almost did, but he faced it head on and has been in recovery (after a momentary slip) much longer than i have. I always told him i used to write, i used to pour my soul out because i had forgotten how to cry, and he encouraged me to start writing again as part of my healing, to organize the chaos within. I couldnt sit still long enough to write a postcard for years, then one day while in rehab i sat down to write him a letter and the poem Crystal poured out of me in short spurts among scribbles and little unconnected phrases. Ive written plenty ever since and never let anyone read a word. Heres to facing my fear.... Crystal is the first of many more posts to come.