Who the hell am I?
First, let me start with the fact that Bonnie is not my real name. There, I feel better having gotten that out there. Keeping my identities straight is confusing at times, lol!!!
I’m a 34 year old woman that is determined that the REST of my life is not going to be repeats of or the same damn thing as my past. A fallen angel, sewing her wings back on, feather by feather, just like in the picture.
I’m a heroin addict – working desperately on getting clean. I’m not there yet, though. Reduced my usage dramatically, but not completely. I’m currently on methadone and am being weaned down by a few milligrams per day. When that ends, so does my getting high. Over, done, finito, finished. And that day is coming fast. I’m scared of getting clean – but terrified of NOT getting clean. Earlier last year, (for the first time in my life) we got arrested for possession of narcotics, and spent a little over 3 months in jail. I’m amazed I survived that – it was hell. We were released with 2 years probation. About 3-4 months ago, we technically “violated” probation, which means our next visit there ends in handcuffs and us not leaving. We haven’t been back yet. The violation was petty, and we were turned in by a family member. Loyalty. Guess they don’t teach that anymore. We’re technically homeless, living in motels. At least ONE of our dreams is coming true – we wanted to tone down all the shit we owned dramatically – and we did. We lost everything while we were locked up.
I’m engaged to Jeff, my first love, my one who got away, my teenage dream, who I lost contact with when I was 16 – and then found again on Facebook in 2010. 17 years apart, and here we are, together again. He’s been an amazing father to both boys (see below) – the dad their bio-jerk never was. He’s helping D heal from the years of abuse as well as me. We’ll get through all of it. That’s what we do.
I’m the mom to 2 wonderful boys. D is 18 – he’s an amazing kid that’s had it rough. He lived (like I did) with the emotional, verbal, and sometimes physical abuse of my ex-husband until he was 15, and then after we left started having behavioral and legal issues. He’s currently clean, and almost done with probation – he hasn’t been in placement or lockup for well over 6 months now, and I’m proud of him. He lives with extended family, his probation officer wouldn’t allow him to live with me after my arrest. He’s my big boy… C is 14, and lives in a group home for terminally ill/medically fragile children. He’s developmentally like a baby, about the size of a 10 year old, and is not expected to live through his teenage years. He’s my angel.
My issues – well, I already told you I’m an addict. Now, I get to carry the label of convicted felon, too, and hiding out from probation. I’m also a survivor of rape, as well as mental, emotional, verbal, and physical abuse throughout my 16 years with my ex-husband. Working on coming up with the $$ for the divorce so that Jeff and I can get married. My ex is in jail for parole violations, after attacking and beating me when I left him. I’m a child of (2) alcoholic/addict parents, I was a teen mom, I had my first child (D) at 15 years old. Not a typo. I’m the mom to a severely disabled terminally ill little boy, and a teenager with addiction problems of his own. I’ve been diagnosed with both bipolar disorder and depression as well as severe anxiety, depending on which doctor you ask. I suffer from multiple autoimmune and chronic pain issues – Raynaud’s syndrome, psoriatic arthritis, IBS, psoriasis (palms of my hands and soles of my feet only), and what they’re calling fibromyalgia until the testing is done for the other possibilities – lupus, MS, rheumatoid arthritis, and a few others I can’t remember. There’s also a few (3) herniated cervical discs, and spinal stenosis. I’m also anorexic, with poor self esteem, and a shitty body image.
Synopsis? I’M A FUCKING MESS. But under all of it is still ME. And I’m trying to piece together a life around all of that – or, to put it in a more positive way – I’m trying to piece together a life and fit all that in somehow. Because I won’t let all that define me anymore. It’s part of who I am. But it’s not all of me. I’m a dreamer, a planner, a list maker, a procrastinator (yes, you can be a planner and a procrastinator at the same time – it takes skill and YEARS of practice), a fiancee, a mother, a friend, a sister, a daughter, a writer, a reader, a woman who still feels like that unpopular teenage girl who doesn’t fit in… I don’t think I’m hideous, but have a hard time believing any compliment is sincere. I don’t hate me so much anymore, but I’m trying to learn to love me. I’m searching for me, for my place in the world, my place on the internet, my place in certain people’s lives.
There’s many reasons I use a pseudonym… for one, I discuss my addiction here – that in itself implies illegal activity. Also, my family doesn’t know about where I am in my life – trust me they know MUCH less than you do!!!
No offense to anyone reading this, really. If you’ve come back to read more after your first few visits and aren’t leaving me troll-like nasty comments or running away screaming, my guess is we’d probably get along really well if we chatted, or maybe even met in real life. But my life is very compartmentalized. Am I going to 100% bare my soul here? I’d love to. And I’m going to try my hardest to do that… My life is complicated – and while I realize most people’s lives are, mine’s a little more so. If you read to here, I’m sure you understand what I mean. Think Lifetime movies. Hell, there are days you’d be better off comparing it to Jerry Springer.
If you’re still here, I’m impressed. I can be a bit overwhelming at times… but writing is a part of me. It’s who I want to be, what I want to do. And I’m going to use it to better myself. I hope you’ll stick around for the journey… I have a feeling it won’t be boring. And writing for an audience is so much more fulfilling than just journaling, at least to me.