I’m chillin in my room, relaxing and listening to the audio of one of my favorite writers/bloggers I came across not long after joining the site. She’s absolutely amazing. Even if her reading words seemed panicked, her voice is always as smooth as butter against the blade of a heated knife.
“Living is hard”
Amen to that. That’s what she said in the audio. She’s so strong, blunt, real, honest, raw, and uncut, and I fucking love reading/listening to her posts.
Kinda fucked up on my part though. Here I am hearing someone speak of their sobriety, having over 200 days!!!! And my ass just took a shot from a lil bottle of FireBall. I don’t drink to get drunk. I have now, don’t call me a liar. I was a wino back in 2003-2007-2009. Right after the fire happened & I lost my nephew and my sister 17 days later. And if that isn’t enough? I lived two houses down on the same exact street.
Instant PTSD!!! Oh, and right after finding out I was pregnant with baby #2. A lil girl I named after her Aunt Jenny.
Unfortunately my daughter never got the chance to meet her because she passed 3 wks. later, plus I was just 2 months along.
Some time that night before this popped off I was on the phone with one of my friends, Ashley P. She was a first time mom and was having a huge anxiety attack because her baby wouldn’t stop crying and nothing was wrong with her. I told her very calmly, if there’s nothing wrong, she’s got a clean diaper, full belly, not gassy with a belly ache. Then she needed to put her in her crib with a bottle and a blankie and walk out of the bedroom and close the door behind her. I told her to grab the camera baby monitor so she could keep an eye on her, and to just let her cry herself to sleep. She kept saying she was a bad mother, and I kept telling her that No, she wasn’t.
But that all ended just fine. Even though that wasn’t just the night my world ended. It was also the last night I spoke to her. 19-years ago. When we reunited, it was a revelation we discovered together.
All of what happened on that specific night, led me through every trial and tribulation afterwards where I had to learn how to live. But being me, I chose to learn the hard way. I was in and out of jail, until I went in and didn’t get out again. I was sat down and instructed and expected to learn how to make the better choices in life whether I wanted to or not.
Nothing Changes! Nothing Changes!
It took almost 4 years of straight incarceration for me to catch on. DUH! Damn Tina! You ain’t dumb or stupid, so why you act so reckless?
I realized that’s not the life I ever wanted to live in. I was just a visitor passing through on her way to a better outcome.
I was surrounded by other women/inmates for 3 1/2 years. Even sharing a 2 man room in the SAP program. . .
But, I was still all alone inside my head. . .
When the revelation of how I’m supposed to be living and acting finally hit me. . .
A couple months later, and in a better suited SAP program, I was released!!! I promise you guys!! It was damn near a year early. I was sentenced to 5 & 2 = 7-years. I served exactly half.
However, I completed 2 MRT classes that were 3 months long (each class). I received 2 certificates of completion, each giving me 90 days off my sentence. Upon arriving at the prison they only credited me for one class. When I got the revelation about how I’m supposed to really live, was when I was credited those other 90 days which was what put me out so unexpectedly. It’s called, Mandatory Re-entry.
I was home baby!! It felt so good walking through that prison yard in my greys. It was a public service announcement of me getting out, beyond the fence.
I was deemed a model inmate, and granted permission to move outside the prison gates to another building that housed other model inmates. It was still very much prison property so if anyone stepped foot on the road running right in front of the building, they’d catch an escape charge (an automatic 5-year sentence). We had to wait to gain access through the gates every time we needed to go take our meds, or to go to the dining hall to eat. But I woke up to a lot of wild deer outside the window next to my bed every morning. It was a wanted privilege by every inmate in that prison to want to live outside the fence.
Since my release from prison I’ve not fallen too far off the ladder. Yes, I’ve fucked up and relapsed, but I’m back on the right track now. I started a group on Facebook, which led me to creating my own page. And that led me here to create my own website.
I’m still very much a work in progress.
Yes! Life is hard!!
By choosing to keep trying to improve myself and finish my goals is what matters now.
Life sometimes is so hard on me that it makes me think back to when I was still incarcerated, and how I didn’t have these problems on the inside. But these are the problems I needed to learn and face to get through and succeed in my life.
Here I am! Bold, Beautiful, and Doing The Damn Thing In Life. Keep trying no matter how many times you fall. Continue to pick yourself up off the ground, and brush your shoulders off!!