dreaming of albion. surviving pregnancy and cats every day. heroin is bad but recovery is pretty great.

I just need to say one thing…
It has been over two years and you still can’t keep my name out of your mouth and that makes you more pathetic than I ever was.

Whatever bitch. I get to have a super cute baby and you don’t so suck on that you stupid cunt.

Being pregnant and nearing the end is making me incredibly nostalgic and emotional. For a brief moment, I missed a girl who I called my best friend for 11 years.
Then I realized I was the only real friend this bitch ever had and she treated me like shit. Now she has no one. To my knowledge, at least. That makes me
I’m going to make sure my kids never have friends like that because I want them to respect themselves in a way their mother couldn’t for the first 23 years of her life.
I don’t know why I decided to miss this girl, but I hope she’s doing well. I hope she’s grown up and stopped treating people like human doormats.
Maybe I’ll write her a letter once Oliver is born. Rub it in her face that I have everything I’ve ever dreamed of.

Sometimes I wonder what might have been with any number of guys I’ve previously been with and then I find them on Facebook. And I immediately stop wondering because they’re all in jail, just getting out of jail, gay, or dead from an overdose. So, there’s that.

I really have come so far. Wow.
I’m almost 7 months pregnant with my soulmate’s baby. We are getting married. We have so much ahead of us.
Two years ago, I never thought I would find this person. I was so, so lost. My schedule was dictated by a drug dealer. I had literally no hope left.
When I look back at the person I thought I was two years ago I’m overwhelmed with a mixture of embarrassment and joy. I had no idea how the world saw me, only how I saw myself. And I saw myself as somehow the epitome of rock and roll, this badass with a syringe in her pocket and a chip on her shoulder. I don’t know where I got the notion that I was some sort of rock and roll goddess, but it was still there. I lived in fear of life and how I was going to live it. Fear of money, fear of my parents, fear of myself. I was my own worst enemy. I get so much joy out of knowing that’s not me anymore, and even more out of knowing I allowed myself to change and become the person I’ve always meant to be.
I may not be perfect, but I have someone who makes me feel like I am. I may still have fear, but it’s rational and justified.
I am who I always should have been. I can’t believe it, but I finally am.