Moving on up, and over to the Right!

I am moving. My time at the Dream Centre is up, and I am outta here! I am sitting here, in my empty suite, and feeling kind of emotional. There's a quiet excitement stirring inside of me, because I don't know what my immediate future holds. All I know is my rent is paid for the next month, and I'll be living next door. I havnt heard from Grant MacEwan yet, and Iam starting to wonder if I made the cut off date or what. Today is the cut off date. Iam starting to wonder where I should start applying for work. I want to work in an office. Iam excited to be able to start playing my organ! I can't wait to start practicing again! The only thing I know for sure is that God is with me, and will never leave me, or lead me into danger.

Being out of this place will be a huge change for me. I can't believe I lived here before, in this same exact suite, and experienced so much pain here. Only to have God bring me back to the exact same place and offer me a second chance at a new kind of life.

I'll be living next door but won't be part of the Dream Centre anymore. Weird.

Never Stop

Today we (the Dream Centre) went to a seniors lunch to sing for them, and to share what the Lord has done in our lives, and right now I feel so inspired. Like seriously. I just need to write about this. God has called each and every single woman that is here, to Himself. I remember well, when He called me, and I also remember the struggle deep with-in me, whether I was going to follow Him or not.


I recall the thoughts and feelings that were going on inside of me. I remember standing at that fork in the road, and before me was 2 choices that were very clear to me at the time. Road one was to keep surviving. Get a roof over my head, and get some kind of job that would be stupid enough to hire a 6 month pregnant woman. OR choice number 2. To live. To give up the things in my life that were holding me back from suceeding, like drinking, and smoking, and gambling, and men. Yes, men. And I remember the feeling of slight panic as I thought of a life without pink cider coolers and sex. Now, a little over a year and a half later, after chosing to live, Iam truely happy with the decision I made.


Life is so full of blessing each and every single day. Waking up to a beautiful, chubby, little brown baby is pure heaven, no matter if its 5:45AM. And walking into school every morning, and having familiar faces bidding me a good morning makes me feel important, and accepted. As I ride to and from school I see out the window, the very same ghetto neighbourhood that I once dwelt in, and used to sleep in those very same alleys, my heart aches for the day when I can someday return to that neighbourhood, and bring it some hope. Everytime I come home with baby Raya after a full days worth of knowledge in my head, and hear greetings from my friends welcoming me home, I again feel so loved for and cared for that I forget how tired I really am, and spend some time with them, laughing, joking, and bonding. As I sit down at my supper table, wherever it may be at the moment, and bow my head, I have so many things to be thankful for, and I let God know about it in my heart. I get to wear a smile all day, and really mean it. It is by no means forced, and I truely feel so blessed to be alive today, and the days to come. Iam happy. And thats all because of the changes God has made inside of me. My attitude, my perspective, and my feelings have all been affected by the supernatural being that is the Lord Jesus.


Thank you Lord. Never stop.

Dorm Life?

Oh My Gosh. There was a fire in the building I was living in. A pretty bad one. I was the lucky one to discover the patio on fire, and try to put it out, but 2 margerine containers full of water was not enough to put it out, unfortunately. The fire trucks had to be called and we were all evacuated. By the time the fire was put out, it had spread into our building, and eaten away our 3rd floor celiing.


When we were finally allowed back in, we were told to pack enough stuff for the next 5 days, and so we did. 5 outfits for me, 5 outfits for Raya. All my make-up, a pair of heels, my favorite tolietries(including 2 of my favorite purfumes!), and a bunch of random stuff, like a case full of nail polish, and flannel pajama's. hahaha Flannel pajama's in summertime? What the "h" was I thinking? hahaa


Its been 2 weeks now, and we havn't been able to go back in. I was under the impression that we would be able to back in and grab more stuff if we needed to, but apparently its against the law for us to go in the building until its all un-contaminated, and clean and fixed. Its so funny how little you can actually live on.
All 16 of us girls have been living out of our suitcases since the fire. Some of us have gone shopping for a few things here and there(tampons, toothbrushes, maybe the odd hoodie from walmart) but we are managing to survive. I guess I'm lucky, because I get to leave the dorm rooms all day while I go to school, and I take my time coming back thats for sure. I left my computer in my building, so I mostly use the computer at school, during school hours.


My baby hates this place. We just moved into different rooms again today, and she's miserable. She needs some blanky's, and some snacks, and maybe a dolly to hold. I only have a few small toys for her here, and I didnt think of things like blankets, and teddy bears to bring for her.


One thing I did buy since the fire was a new camera. Being able to take pic's and look at them brings me joy. Iam very happy if I have a camera in my hand. Us girls have been trying to make the best out of the situation, and have had movie nights together, and we had a spa night, where I painted some of the girls nails with fancy art deco designs. And my best friends are here too, going through the same thing with me, so it doesn't seem that bad.


Iam currently going to start looking for a place of my own. I think its finally time for me leave the Dream Centre and let somebody take my place here, who needs to change their lives for the better. I dont know where I'd be if it wasn't for the Dream Centre. Seriously. Iam so not the same person I was when I first walked throught those doors. Thank the Lord above, that He changed me from the inside out.


Oh, there also isn't t.v's here either, so it leaves lots of time for writing, and reading, and unfortunately, doing homework. BLAH!!!

give thanks

http://youtu.be/Y1WmzRxBGFY

Something I've just learned recently is that when I think of, and focus on money(or lack of it!), it makes me unhappy. I worry, and then I start feeling down. Thats so NOT the way God intended for me to live.

But when I put my focus on Him, and all the things Iam learning about who He is, you know, that He will never leave me, He will not stop loving me, and that He will always provide for ALL of my needs, I feel happy, deep down inside. Being able to have faith in something greater than my myself is wonderful. Even on days like today where I got my monthly check, and was just able to cover my monthly expenses, Iam feeling happy. I know that God is the one who made sure my bills got paid this month, and made sure my daycare got paid, and my rent, and my buss pass. Its all ok.

I'd just like to list some things that Iam thabnkful for right now.

Iam thankful that Iam able to go to school for another term, and get one step closer to the life I want for me and my children. Iam thankful that I got funding for daycare, and that my baby loves going to daycare. Iam thankful that I have enough money to buy a bus pass thisa month, and will be able to attend school everyday without worries. Iam thankful that Iam losing weight. Walking my baby to and from daycare everyday has been kind of a pain in the arse, but look at my arse!!! Its getting smaller! And firmer!! Iam thankful that I have internet acess at my house, and that I have a nice pc, and Iam able to look on youtube for workout video's, and make-up tutorials, and hair tutorials!! Youtube is the BEST! I also enjoy going on youtube and watching creepy video's about the Illuminati, and Reptilians,etc. hahaha, I know, I can be such a sci-fi nerd when I want to be. I spent the entire day yesterday watching creepy videos! Anyhooo, back to thankfulness....

Iam thankful that my kids love me, even after I dissappeared for years. I am grateful that they didn't hate me when I came back into their lives, and that they are all allowing me to make up for lost time! SO GREATFUL!! Iam thankful that I have such a well-behaved little baby. She entertains herself well, and she hasn't been sickly, or fussy. She has seriously been the easiest baby I've ever had. And she has an amazing personality. Iam grateful that alcohol no longer controls my every thought, and action. Its actually quite amazing to me still that I have no desire for it anymore. I honestly thouight that if I quit drinking, I would be miserable, and be thinking about it all the time! SO NOT TRUE! I love that I never think about it, or long for it. Same with the meth. Iam thankful that those chains of bondage have been broken. There was a time, not that long ago, that I would not believed that I would ever WANT to quit meth. But it lost it's luster. It lost it's appeal. That HAD TO have been God, opening my eyes to what was real. I'm praying for all the other meth addicts out there, hoping that their eyes too, will open.

Iam thankful that I have unique gifts and talents. I LOVE making things pretty.I am artistic, and creative. I love writing, and sharing my experiences. Iam thankful that I have talents and skills.  Iam thankful that I have learned many lessons from the school of life. Iam thankful that I know how important it is to treat ALLothers, not just the rich ones, or the goodlooking ones, but ALL FELLOW human beings. I think thats something you either know or you don't, and I do. I am thankful that I've been on both sides of the tracks. Iam thankful that its finally summer. Iam thankful that someone gave me a almost brand new stroller for free, and he didn't even know me. Iam thankful that my morning bus driver always says good morning to me and smiles, and tells me to have a good day when I get off. It always makes me smile, and feel good. Iam thankful that I have friends now who like me for who I really am. Iam thankful that I have enough courage to be, and not care what others think of me. Iam thankful that I have 2 more days to watch star trek all day long! haha

I really could keep going, but theres a little baby girl who wants to play with mommy.

I'm thankful for that too!!

Last Day of School!!

So, I just finished my first term at school! It was awesome to go back to school and find that I'm a smarty pants! Seriously, I never suspected that I had it in me recieve honors! After living so much of my life with such low esteem, and low self worth, I never allowed myself to dream big. I never took it into consideration that I could do something useful with my life! Iam so incredibly happy that I have a wonderful future ahead of me.

The Lord has really opened up my eyes and allowed me to see myself as a valuable person, who has alot to offer this world. I have placed my life before the Almighty God and said,"Here Iam . Use me for what you created me for!"

As more time goes by, and I accomplish more and more things, I feel my confidence rising up inside of me. Gone are the feelings of not being good enough. Gone are my feelings of unworthyness. Gone are my feelings of insecurity. It feels wonderful and Iam so so grateful.

Nice and fat.

There is always the temptation to listen to that little voice inside that constantly critizes me, but I've found that I don't want to listen to that vioce. I mean, who WANTS to listen to a voice that puts you down all day? Especially when you figure out that you have a choice. You don't have to listen to that crap.
Thats what the Jesus voice tells me anyways. I have found that listening to that positive voice makes my life more enjoyable. After I had Raya, I was fat. I mean, I gained 80 pounds with her. To go from a size 7 to a size 18 has the potential to do alot of harm to a persons self esteem.

I found it a little hard to get used to last summer, right after I had her. I was seriously huge. hahaha  Before I had her, I remember ther feeling of walking down the street and seeing out of the corner of my eyes, peoples heads turning everywhere. It felt good, most of the time. To feel like I had the acceptance of those around me becasue of my good looks and nice body. Sometimes though, it got to be too much and I remember sometimes not wanting all that kind of attention, and so I'd waer incredibly baggy hoodies, and old, worn out flare legged jeans. Well, last summer I did not have to worry about that happening.


I was close to 200 pounds, and wearing big glasses again(something I havn't done for many years), and I felt so unattractive. The funny thing is, there were only some brief moments when I'd feel ugly, and fat, and that was usually when I was with my friend Bex, who had the most georgouse, right out of the magazine body I have ever seen in real life. Walking down the street beside her, I felt so insecure. I'll admit, it felt awful. Espsecially to see that she was getting the kind of looks I used to get.

But as the summer went on, it got easier. I started seeing qualities in myself that I really liked. Iam a very funny person, and enjoy making people laugh. Iam also very stylish, and get compliments on my make-up, and hair and  clothes all the time! Iam also a really caring person, and its really hard to be self -centered when your time is filled up loving other people. So as the summer went on, I became more comfortable with myself, and my hugeness. It also helped that I lived in a houseful of women who really loved me, and supported me, and accepted me for who I was. None of them had ever seen me skinny. They met me when I checked into rehab, when I was 6 months pregnant, so they all had only known me as a larger woman. Cool!

I love who Iam now. I have found a new self esteem, where Iam not judging myself on how I look. Sure, I hope that oneday I will be back into a size 7, but in the meantime, who cares? I  do not have to impress anyone. Iam a real woman, who has a million babies, and nobody really cares how much I weigh, do they? If you do, speak now, or forever hold your piece! haw!haw!haw!

Iam nice and fat. There. I said it.

Burning Poision Drink

It was beggining to be a hot summer's day. Me and my Papa were doing the rounds on his farm, walking around the farm yard, picking up random rocks here and there. Papa would bend down, and pick up the large rocks he found, and he would dust the dirt off of it with his big, thick thumb, and then toss it outside the fence-line. This particular day we were heading to the abandonded house.

Me and my sister loved this old abandoned house when we got older. It was strictly off limits because it was falling apart, but when we got older it became one of our most favorite places to play. Anyways, at the time of this walk, I remember I was only in kindergarten, so I was probably only 4 years old. I clearly remember the sun was begginning to get really hot, and we had been walking for quite awhile already. I felt so thirsty. Papa was inspecting around the house, looking unerneath it where it was jacked up onto big beams. He was moving so slowly and didn't seem to be ina hurry. I remember wanting to go home and get a drink. Thats when I saw a big, square jug of water.

Ohhh my....I could already feel the cool, refreshing liquid gushing down my parched throat, as I saw it there, glinting in the sunlight. It was almost hidden in the tall grass that was growing up beside the house. I looked around for Papa but he was busy, pulling random weeds, here and there, on the other side of the house. "Well, I'm a big girl." I thought to myself. "I can get my own drink." and I walked over to the big, square jug.

I unscrewed the cap,  carefully balanced the enormous jug between my small, 4-year old hands, and poured the clear liquid into my waiting mouth. And

"AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHGgggggggggggggg!!!!!!!" I screamed in pain!!!!!!!

The liquid BURNED everywhere! It burned my throat! It burned my tounge!!!! I could hardly scream because it burned soooo bad!

Papa wasn't too far away and he heard me scream, and I could harly catch my breath, because the chemicles were burning my throat! He ran over to me, and ripped the jug outta my hands, and slapped me on the back repeatedly. I spat out the poision, and started trying to cry, but the poison was still burning. I heard Papa saying "You'll be alright. You'll be alright." and I remember thinking, "No I won't! No I won't! It hurts Papa! Don't say I'll be alright!"

A few minutes later we were on our way back to the house, and Papa was being stern with me. He was sternly telling me not to drink out of jugs anymore because you never know what was in them. I promised my Papa I would not drink out of strange jugs anymore, and we walked hand in hand back home.

The jug of "water" had turned out to be a jug of  ant-poison.

innuendo

in·nu·en·do/ˌinyo͞oˈendō/

Noun: An allusive or oblique remark or hint, typically a suggestive or disparaging one: "innuendo, gossip, and half-truths".

 

 

Will my past ever leave me alone? Its so hurtful to know and be reminded of what a shmuck I used to be.

Many, many years ago, a camera went missing at my parents house. I remember the day I visited them, because back then I only saw them once a year, if that. I remember sitting in their livingroom, feeling uncomfortable, and trying to think of excuses so I could get outta there and go home, and my dad came into the living room. He was looking behind my chair, and on the shelves, and on their record player. He was searching and searching everywhere, and if you know my parents house, you know that they are OCD clean freaks, and there is not one thing EVER outta place in their house. I was like,"Dad. What are you looking for?" and he told me he couldn't find his camera. The last time he used it was somewhere and some time and he couldn't remember where he had put it. And then he left to go check his office. I thought nothing of it, and left shortly after, glad to be away from them, and their looks of concern, and all their nosy questions, like "Was I still drinking?", and "Was I still on drugs?" I was thinking, "Uh, ya actually, I have a big, cold 2 litre cooler waiting for me at home so can I go now?", but I only farced my best smile and said"No."

Anyhoo, I never even thought about the camera again until today. Then I found out that when they tell the story of their missing camera, it's always we lost our camera, oh ya, and Starla was over that day that it went missing.

 

Thats called innuendo. I'm taking English 10-1 right now and we are learning about all sorts of literary terms, and that is called innuendo. I never thought they would actually think I stole from them. I've never been a theif. Sure, I've been a alcoholic, and I've had a past with drugs, but steal? No. Not me. I'm not a theif.

I remember once when I was 19 years old, me and my boyfriend Mark went with our daughter to K-Mart. It was around christmas time, and we were flat broke. So Mark decided that he's gonna steal us christmas presents. I strolled little Summy in her stroller and watched as Mark slid merchandise into her stroller, and then we tried to casually walkl out of the store. Immediatly, two security officers arrested us and we got sent to Remands, here in edmonton. They put little Summer in the cells with us until my mom could come and pick her up. We were then processed, and had to be strip searched. And by the way, that IS THE MOST humiliating thing I've eever experienced...well...it reates up there anyways. Anyways, we went to court and I got my charges dropped, and Mark got slapped with theft. Have not stolen since then.

 

This really bothers me to think that all these years my parents have  been thinking I was a criminal. Stealing from them. Never once did they ever say a word to me about this. I am so upset. I have invited them over tomorrow to talk about this among other things. Please Lord, give me the right words to say, and give me forgiveness and strength. Lord, you know Iam innocent. Please, be my protector. :( 

Ponoka:Part2

When I first got to Ponoka Mental Institution I was put a room by myself. By the end of the first week I had a roommate. Although I cannot remember her name, I can tell you something very strange about her. This is actually so weird, that I have a hard time wrapping my head around it even now.
At the time this happened, I was living in Wainwright, Alberta, with my boyfriend, and his uncle John. We lived in John's trailer, with their 4 dogs. John's two dog's names were Buster and Otis. And so when I net my new roommate, she seemed very nice, and I couldn't figure out why she was there.
She was very kind and generous. And she talked often of her friend John. Apparently they had come to visit her often, since she came there, and he brought her candy, and pop, and other treats that none of us had. She shared a pepsi with me the first time she met me. Then she started telling me about how he had broght Buster with him the last visit, and Buster was his dog. I couldn't believe it! John and Buster had come to visit her!! And not me!! I was so angry!
I found out shortly, that this was a different John and Buster, because they really did come to visit her, and I saw them with my own eyes. It was not "my" John and Buster. But it was still strange.

Anyways, we shared a room for about two days. I found out that yes, she was crazier than I was, and I had to ask to be moved. I was afraid of her. The first night we had to sleep in the same room I had a dream I will never forget. I sonetimes still wonder if I was really dreaming, or if I somehow accidentally saw the real reality. In my "dream", I had woken up, because something was flahing brightly in my eyes. Like a tiny spotlight shining directly into my closed eyeballs. I opened my eyes, and through the blur, my eyes started to focus, and I saw a machine, about the same size as my hand, directly in front of my face. It was as though it was staring me in the face, watching me. It just hung there in the air, so close to my face that it was almost touching. When my mind began to realize that this was odd, i was starlted back into "our" reality, and found myself, laying in the hospital bed, with my heart pounding in my ears. It was then that I hear some rustling beside me, and there was my roommate, crouched onto the floor, helping invisible beings build something on the floor of our hospital room. "Hey!" I called out to her. But she couldn't hear me. I saw her twisting an invisible steering wheel in front of her, as she was crouched on her knee's on the floor, and I saw her heave an invisible pipe upwards, into the hands of an invisible person. It freaked me out so badly, as I just sat and stared, watching her and a crowd of invisible people building an invisible machine, or city, right in front of my eyes. I ran out of the room and called a nurse, and a nurse came and stopped the building at once, and put my roommate to bed.
I was pretty shook up, and requested a little white pill to help me go back to sleep. The next day I was transferred down the hallway, and got a new roommate who was there because she was suicidal. She had cuts all over her arms, and she stayed in her bed most of the days,unless she was smoking in the smoke room with us, which was rare. She was very nice, and quiet, and I felt safe as I fell asleep at night, and so I stayed in that room.

There was a small group of us who were in the good patients club. If you ask me, most of the people in this club were not crazy. Some maybe were a little touched, but for the most part we were a good bunch. There was one girl who was increadibly beautiful, and she reminded me of a sexy cartoon character, with long black hair,  bright green eyes, and full, lucious red lips that curled up when she smiled. She thought she was a very powerful witch, and that her powers had gotten sooo great that "they" had locked her up in there, so she couldn't use her powers. She seemed nice until one day, she said something off hand to me, and I took a swing at her, and we had a mini-cat fight in front of the nurses station. We ignored each other after that.

And then there was my buddy, whats-her-name. She was a very nice girl also, who really, really liked being my friend. We sometimes sat together for meals, and chatted, and we smoked together too. She was part of the good patients club, and when they took us on an outting one day, to the movies, we sat together. I really enjoyed having a friend on the unit. She didn't like leaving the unit however, and so I managed to have a private life besides the time that I shared with her, on the unit.

One day, as I came back to the unit, to eat supper, I noticed there were a couple of new faces on our unit. I didn't bother trying to meet everyone, or even trying to befriend everybody. I mostly kept to myself. But one of the new men asked me in the line up, "What's your name?" I answered him, "Starla. My name is Starla." and he laughed at me, and said, "No it's not!" Confused, I repeated that yes, my name was Starla. And again he laughed, and looked at me like I was crazy, and said,"No it isn't. That's Starla over there." And he pointed across the room at my buddy, who had her short dark hair fashioned into two small braids. " My name is Starla, and I'm a native" I heard her telling one of the other new people. She had assummed my identity, and was introducing herself as me, Starla.  So much for my non-crazy friend.

About a week and a half before my 30 days were up, I had another dream that I'm not sure if it was real or not. In my dream, I was being rolled in my hospital bed through the hallways. I could feel the bed rolling along the smooth linolium, and I could hear a baby crying. I tried opening my eyes, but they were blurry with sleep, and I managed to catch a glimpse of who was crying. It was a toddler, but it wasn't a human toddler. It was some sort of species that I've never seen before, and it was standing against a wall with it's mom. The mom was "shushh"ing it, but it continued crying. We were going through some sort of waiting room, and I was being wheeled past a massive, hairy looking spider on a hospital bed like mine. I tried to move my arm from hanging over the edge, afraid that the spider would bite me if my hand brushed against it, and sure enough, as we passed the spider close by, it twitched, and stung me like a scorpian on my left hand, right where the skin stretches between my thumb and forfinger. I still have the scar. ( I woke up with a blood mark the next morning, after this dream) We wheeled into a room, where a strange, human-like man was standing, sneering at me. He was catoonishly fat, and looked more cartoony than real. He seemed to hate me, and I didn't know why. I was stood up to my feet, and the oxygen was sucked outta the room, and I began to float. At first it was quite fun, floating up to the celing, bouncing off the walls, until I noticed that there were strange beings filimng into the room around me, all laughing at jeering at me, and then the trial began.

The strange human'like man with the big bottom started telling the crowd about my sketchy past. Things that I have never addmitted to another human being were coming out of his mouth, and the starge beings were reacting to hearing my wrong deeds. There were things that fat man wre saying that even made me cry, and in my head I was thinking, "How did he know that?" It scared to crap outta me, and I felt embarassed, ashamed and very, very naked. The end of the trial finally came, and the fat thing held up a shiny pair of keys.
"For your brand New car!" he jeered at me. I stopped for a moment, thought about it, and my pride took over. "I don't want your stupid keys, or a stupid car. Just leave me alone." I said defiantly, coming close to tears. I felt like I had been punched in the stomach. I just wanted to get otta there, and so I was strapped back to the bed, and whelled back to my room. I skipped breakfast that day. And din't get outta bad till noon. I was filled with misery, and shame, and didn't feel like leaving my room.
I noticed my hand hurt, and when I looked down at it, I saw where the spider had bit me. There was a fresh blood scar on it, and I said nothing. I can still see the scar today, and everytime I catch a glimpse of it, I remember this dream as clearly as I have shared it with you. Gone are the feeling of shame and embarrassment. At the time, I needed to feel those things. These days, I have made my peace with my past, and have moved onto better things. I pray I have learning something from my mistakes, and know that Ponoka is far in my past.

My first boyfriend.

Eugene was his name, and I thought he was the hottest guy in my school. He also happened to be the older brother of my best friend Molly-Lynn. That’s how I knew him. I had spent a lot of time over at her house, and had gotten to know her brother a little bit. We started flirting with each other a little bit, and then I confessed to her that I thought he was cute. Well, she of course, told Eugene this, and he told her that he liked me too. We then went through a phase where we wrote each other cute little notes, and she played mailman, and passed the notes back and forth for us.  I’m not sure how or when we became official, because we were so shy of each other that we rarely talked to each other in person. We smiled like crazy around each other, and waved to each other when we saw each other, but that was about the extent of “us”. It was a really cute time in my life, when I was still so innocent, that it remained really sweet. I’ll always remember the one time we actually touched. I had been over at Lynn’s house, and Eugene was riding around on their quad. He asked me if I wanted a ride, and I said “Yes!”. And so I climed on the back, and wrapped my arms around him tightly, and he took off, really fast. It was a thrilling ride, to say the least. I think what made it so thrilling was the fact that I got to be so close to him, and that I could feel his muscles through his t-shirt.  Anyhoo….

Baring it all: I was Crazy Once

Baring it all: I was Crazy Once

I was Crazy Once

Back when I was in my early 20's I went for a "visit" to Alberta Hospital in Ponoka. LOL Just thinking back to my time there makes me laugh. Literally. It was, pardon the pun, CRAZY! First off, I was checked into a room, by myself. It was actually quite a large room, and I didn't really care at the time because I was so sure I wasn't going to be there for very long. The doctor's had obviously made a mistake in semding me there. All I really needed was a couple good days sleep, and then I would be right as rain. Anyways, I did spend the first couple days, just sleeping, and only getting up to go eat breakfast, lunch and supper. I was starving, and hadn't eaten, in like, a year. So I literally georged myslf on hospital food, and I do have to say that it was delicious! They have really good cooks in Ponoka. On about the thrid day, I broke the bad news to my doctor. I told him that he had been grossly misinformed, and that I did'nt belong there. And sorry for the inconvience, and I should really be on my way. He just sighed, and shook his head, looking a little annoyed. He then told me that just to make sure I was alright, I'd have to be under evaluation for at least 30 days. And at the end of the thirty days, I would be evaluated again, and a decision would be made on when I would be released.
I went into panic mode. I started the water works, and my doctor seemed totally unaffected, and so I tried to reason, tel;ling him the real reason I was sent there. He didn't budge. And so I started freaking out, realizing that I was trapped, and he prescribed me tiny white pills to calm my nerves. I found solace in the indoor smoking room, and spent alot of my time in there, bumming smokes off of the my fellow crazies. They all seemed to really accept me, and like me, and so I enjoyed smoking for free for the first week or so I was there.
Near the end of the first week I had really relaxed and accepted my situation, and had become familiar with my surroundings. I was detaxing off meth, and found myself really twitchy, and I couldn't sit still. I was able to sit long enough to smoke 3/4 of a cigarette, or eat most of my meal. But it felt like there was all this abundant energy inside of me that would not let me relax. And so I asked for the little pills more and more often. One day, after I had eaten another pill, I felt myslf starting to shake, and then BAM! Suddenly I saw about 4 faces looking down over me, and asking me if I was alright. I had had a seisure without even realizing what had happened, and I had smacked my head hard against the floor. I started laying off the little white pills after that.
Because I was on such good behavior, I was now part of the good patients club. We had full access to the hospital, and were permitted to go on special outtings. It was good to be me. The hospital was, in fact, HUGE, and I had anytime access to the swimming pool, the gymnasium, the woodworking room, the pottery room, and the games room. There was even a Starbucks stand outside of the games room, and a small store that sold clothes and tabacco. Since I was checked into the hospital, I didnt have any money, and I didnt have visitiors until later, so the hospital hooked me up with social services, and they gave me enough money to buy a couple pouches of tabacco, and some tubes, so I was able to roll my own smokes.
Ina place like that, smoking is the only thing that makes you feel normal, so I smoked alot! My physical and mental state wouldn't let me finish an entire cigarette though, so they lasted me awhile. My days consisted of going to the swimming pool, jumping in, doing a lap, going down the waterslide, sitting in the hottub for 5 minutes, then getting dressed, going for a smoke, going to play a game of pool, going for a smoke, going on the internet, checking my email, going for a smoke, going back to my unti, smoking another ciggy, going to lay down for 3 mi utes, taking a bath to try and calm myself. Filling up the tub, jumping in for 4 minutes, jumping out, going for a smoke, etc. It was so hard when I felt like I was jumping outta my skin constantly.


There were actually crazy people on my unit. The craziest was an older woman. And BOY, she was nuts. She would yell at the top of her lungs for and hour straight, "NO!NO!NO!NO!NO!NO!NO!NO!NOO!NO!NO!!" The nurses would take her to a roon at the end of the hallway,(right by the only bathtub on the unit), andlock her in that room, and let her scream for hours. She would tire after awhile and be quiet for a half hour or so, and then she would start again. The bathroom I used for my baths was at the very end of the hallway, and she was in the room next to the bathroom. I wou;ld be sitting in the tub, listening to her yell, and I would hold my breath and go under the water, where I couldn't hear her anymore. It was the weirdest thing. Because every few hours she would stop screaming, and a nurse would come let her out and escort her to the smoking room. And then she's stand there, not looking or talking to any of us, and she'd smoke her ciogarette in silence. And then after her smoke was done, she'd go sit in the sitting area, and suddenly start yelling,"NO!NO!NO!NO!NO!" again. Weird.


If you wanna hear more, leave a comment!!!!

The experience of being me.

I really should have known better than to go over there. I mean, I had enough street smarts to know how dangerous it is to go to a drinking party where you know there will be hard alcohol and crack heads. Crack heads are the most dangerous forms of humans, if you ask me. It doesn't even matter if you've been friends with them since the first grade. That doesn't make you immune to their tactics. Nope. Not at all. In fact, it kinda puts a big victim tattoo in the middle of your forehead, if your sympathetic to their cause. You might hear, “Oh, I need to borrow your car. I have a job interview I want to go to. I want to get off this shit, and start fresh.” hahaha! Yea, right. If you hear that, and lend your car out, know this. Your car is being used to to get drugs and do crime. Sucker. Oh and, you might hear this: “I need, like 10, or 20 bucks, because I have to take the bus there and back, and I need a pack of smokes.” If your talking to genuine crack head, then you know that 10 or 20 bucks is going to the nearest and fastest “crack dealer” and their getting a “piece”.(that's piece of crack, to those of you who don't know the lingo. A “piece” is exactly what it sounds like. A piece of crack. Usually so small and minute that it can be smoked up in less than a minute.)

Anyways, back my story. I should have known not to go, but my alcoholism wouldn't let me go that day, and all I could think of was “Free booze.” Yippee. In that time in my life you might as well have said that it was like winning the lottery. Free was free. And so off I went. To get stabbed.

The Lord is helping me through school. I swear!

Do you know what is soo crazy? Its like some invisivle force is pushing me the direction it wants me to go. Beacsue Iam a faith believeing Christian, I can confindentally call this force, lovingly, of course, God. Iam finding out that things are getting accomplished in my life that I never thought possible on my own. Its such obvious, but simple things sometimes, like math. Now, on my own, Iam terrible at math. There are times during class that I feel that my teacher is speaking Chinese to us. And what makes it worse, uis that it seems like all the other students around me understand, what I don’t, and I can see them out of the corner of my eye, nodding their heads, as the teacher continues teaching in Chinese. Arhhggg!! Crazy. But then, as I say a simple little prayer up to God, truly begging him deep down in my heart, to help me understand, slowly, as if a big flashlight slowly starts to light up brighter and brighter in my head, the Chinese slowly dissolves into English, and I have that “light bulb “ moment. God. Then it’s as if I’ve been figuring out tangents, and dividing side opposite into side adjacent all my life.

School is going better than was possible all on my own!

Thank you Lord!

Introduction to the real me

Well, while I was at school today, I just had an urge to start writing, and I ended up starting to write a book for my children, for them to have one day before I die. Now, I'm not trying to be morbid or anything but there are alot of things that I want them to know about my life, that they don't know right now. I have a teenage daughter and she is definatly getting old enough to understand the things that happen in life, and I truely want her to understand a little about me, and whats motivated me and my past behavior. At my funeral, I don't want them to feel like "Oh my mom was a nice lady. I 'll kinda miss her" I want them to actually know that I was a real person, just like them. I think sometimes we have a fear of appearing real to our children. wE WANT TO SEEM LIKE WE KNOW IT ALL, AND WE DO IT THE RIGHT WAY, ALL THE TIME, AND THAT CAUSES THEM TO THINK WE CAN'T RELATE TO ANYTHING. Thats so crazy, because alot of the stuff I've experienced in life, I would like to share it with them, honestly, and have them know that I DO understand them, and I love them, and that Iam no superwoman. Well, Iam hoping they feel blessed by next piece of writing. Iam still not sure when I will give it to them, but I talked to a publishing company already and know that if I can a write a book thats over 45 pages and I'm wil.ling to pay for it, they can publish it for me. Just for my kids. Maybe one for my little sister too.

A Drug Addict and Drunk turned Christian

For the majority of my adult life I was addicted to meth and alcohol. I always felt like that I needed one or the other to be "happy". When I was sober, I was actually very shy, and very awkward around people, especially people I didn't know. I found that if I had a few drinks in me, I was alot more social, and I didn't seem to care if everyone around me was accepting me or not. In fact, sometimes when I got drunk, I didnt want people to accept me. I wanted to fight. I shake my head in embarrassment now, looking back, at all the times I would pick fights with nice people, just because I wasn't thinking straight. The next day I'd either have to watch my self, that I didn't run into the same people the next day and risk getting into another fight, or I'd have to go back, all red-faced and humbled and make my apology. Sheesh. Iam amazed that I still have a nice face, after all the fist fights I've been in. And as for the meth, well, it didn't make me fight. It made me feel....busy. I was constantly on the go, going nowhere in particular.

I find it amazing that that was not that long ago! This past year and a half has been amazing! God has truely set me free from my addiction to meth and booze. Which is really amazing. I am now going to college and pursuing a degree in buisness OR getting my teaching degree. I still havn't decided. I am enjoying learning more about God and His ways of doing things in life. I learn something new every day that I want to. I've been reunited with all my children(4 of them) since I've cleaned up and I have a brand new daughter that I am raising on my own. Its truely amazing what God can do if you let HIM!!! I seriously want to tell the world of all these changes. Wether its encouraging people to pray for their loved ones to turn to God, or whether its encouraging drug addicts to give their lives and hearts over to Jesus and let him restore their lives wholly and completly, I know I NEED to do something!!!! HEAR ME PEOPLE!!!
GOD IS ALIVE AND WELL!!
CALL ON HIM! HE WILL ANSWER!!!!!

I've started

You know, it's important to have a dream. We were all made to fulfil some kind of purpose here on this earth. I feel like I've wasted so much time already, floowing my every whim, and desire, and ended up at the bottom of the barrel. In some ways, it was good. I can only go up from there, right. Well, anyways, I've begun to write. I mean really write.
I watched an episode of intervention last night and it brought back such strong memories for me. It stirred up alot of feelings that really bothered me, and so I started to write. MAN, it felt good to just say what I gots to say...(sorry, I'm watching Queen Latifa in 'Beauty Shop' right now.. lol)

Anyways, I find blogging really helping get my mind stimulated and everything, but there are only certain things I can share on line. I have a feeling I will have to end this blog because its not as private as I intendeed it to be. You know you really gotta be careful about what you share on,line. Alot of people like tyo judge you for your past, which make s me sad because theres so much that I've overcome and I would actually love to share more of it with the world.

So, I've started writing my very first book. Sissy, if your reading this, I want to encourage you to do the same. I absolutly love reading your writing. And really, whats the harm in writing? Its theraputic, and to be honest, theres not alot of people out there who can write and make it interesting. Somehow, God has gifted us with the talent to write. For some unknown reason, people love our work. Whether it's our status on facebook, or just our past experiences, people seem to love or wrirting. Let's do it! I challenge you to write. Anything you want. And I, too, promise to do the same!

We've all got to start somewhere.

Being Broke

Ahhhhh crap. I'm broke. This really sucks.I usually feel that I'm really smart wirth the small amount of money that I get from the government. I just dont know what happened this month, but Iam already broke and the month isn't over yet. Iam so tired of living my life in poverty. I have started going to school and and am hoping to get my degree in buisness first of all, and then from there I dont know. I cant wait to feel what its like to go shopping and NOT have to look at price tags. One thing I've been learning is to write down goals so here's a short list to start. I can't wait to look back on this list and check things off. Ok, here it goes!

1. Get my drivers lisence.
2. Pay off my jay-walking ticket.
3. Write a book.
4. Join the Writers Guild.
5. Get down to a size 12.
6. Get honors in English.
7. Build up a savings account.
8. Finish my scrapbook.
9. Sing a solo in church.
10. Buy green contact lenses.

Ok, theres my list. I wrote a similar list when I moved into the Dream Centre and it was such a joy to see my list get smaller and smaller. Let me go find it and I'll share with you the actual listy I wrote over a year ago! Hold on.......

"Things I have prayed for"

a house
*Protection(physical) for the baby.*
*Physical healing for the baby.*
*Direction for a career*
*Help in my decision making*
*Assistance in naming the baby*
*A personal computer for writing*
*That my childrens sadness be taken away*
Mom Rindelle, Peter Cardinal, Jim Disterheft and Victor to know Jesus. To become saved.
 

That was my prayer list last year before Raya was born. I was so afraid that she would have medical problems or something.She really should have. But she didnt. All the list that has stars around it were answered. Amazing huh?
Well, cant wait to see this new list come true!
Make a list of your own!

A Divine Appointment

As a christian believer, I believe in what we call, divine appointments. Basically what this is, is that we believe God has a reason for everything, and sometimes we are in a specific place at a specific time, for a very specific reason. I want to share with you what happened to me today.

As I have already shared with all of you, I have a dad who is a homeless man, here in edmonton. The scary thing about having a loved one who is homeless, is that you don't know when the next time your gonna see them will be.(If you even see them again). This is really hard on me because I know personally, just how dangerous living on the streets really is. There's alot of phyco's out there. Alot of crazy crack heads who don't care 'bout nuthin', and alot of skitzo's too.

Anyhoo, I havn't seen my dad for over a year now. A few weeks ago, my sister-in-law mentioned to me that she heard on the radio that a homeless man named Peter had died in a bus shelter downtown. My heart neraly jumped out of my throat, for I know that my dad often uses bus shelters to sleep in and warm up in. That day that I heard about that, I was very upset, and I went and locked myself in my room, and I started praying. Begging would be more like it. I started begging God that he would save my daddy from dying before he was ready to. Because as a believer in God, I also believe that you gotta be right with God before you die, or you will suffer in hell for an eternity. And hell is...well..scary. Its a place of extreme lonliness and pain, not just physically, like the cartoon depict it, but it's a place where God's presence does not exist. There is no protection there. There is no door out. And the thought of my daddy going there deeply distreesses me. So I was begging.

Well, today I had an essay due for english, so I didn't leave school until around 2:30. I usually leave at 1pm. Then as I walked up to my bus stop, the bus went right past me, so I decided to take a detour to city centre mall. Which is something I hardly EVER do. Then, while inthe mall, I decided to go to Winners and find myself a new hoodie or yoga pants, because Iam losing the baby weight now and my clothes are getting too big. I looked and looked and couldn't bring myself to buy anything in the end, and I was thinking to myself,"Geeze, what a waste of time." So I went to catch the bus.

Then I got off at Raya's daycare, and suddenly decided to go buy a couple Papa burgers for supper. Which is, again, something I never do. Then I went to go get Raya. And we started walking the 2 blocks home. And LO AND BEHOLD, there is my dad's ex-girlfriend. Standing there waiting for her grandson to get off the school bus. I couldn't believe it!! I went up to her and said hello and asked her if she'd seen my dad lately. And she told me YES!!!!! He had just called her the night before and had left his phone number with her and his address.
He was living in Gunn, Alberta, and was in a treatment program for his drinking!!! PRAISE THE LORD!! I was so happy, I almost started crying. She took me to her place where she gave me his address and phone number. Turns out she lives only a block away from me! And my dad visits her when he does come to the city.

I jus want to say, "Thank you God, that my daddy didn't die when he was on the street. Thank you for keeping him safe and thank you so much for making sure that I found out that he is doing better than just all right. I DO believe(becvause I choose to believe) that you love my dad just as much as I do and that you want better things for him than what he had going for himself here. Thank you for giving him a SAFE place to stay!"

My First Memory

I never grew up with my biological mom and dad. I was only with them for the first 3 years of my life. But during those 3 years, I grew to love them. Even though they drank and fought with each other, I still grew to love them. I still do. I always have. No matter what stories I heard about them growing up, I always loved them. The stories I heard were always bad and I have no doubt that they were all true, but they are my mommy and daddy. Nothing will ever change that.

One of my very first memories are of me living in a mobile home(trailer). I remember there was a bedroom at the end of the hallway and thats where me and my mom and dad all slept. They slept in a big bed, and I slept in a little bed under a window.  I remember once I had gone to find them because I noticed that they weren't around, so I went to the bedroom to look for them, and there they were, on the big bed, naked. My dad was on top, and I remember him looking back at me, over his shoulder and he had an really annoyed look on his face, which was weird because he always had a smile on his face when he talked to me. I remember a little warning bell going off in my mind, because he wasm't smiling. Well, the he grabbed a rolled up sock or something and threw it right at me, almost hitting me and he hissed;"Get outta here Starla!".

For some reason this struck me as funny. Probably because I knew I was doing something he didn't want me to do, so I started laughing, and I slid the door shut and went back to the living room. Away from them.

Since I turned 16 I've been able to meet my mom and dad again. I found that I still had a deep love for both of them. That love is something that will never change. I don't care what they've done or havn't done. They are my mommy and daddy and I will always love them dearly. I can say that I am really thankful I didn't grow up with them only because I wouldn't be who Iam today if they had raised me. And I like me. But Iam glad they had me and I am proud to look like them and share certain personality traits as them. For instance, my dad is funny and he's very kind. He always has a positive attitude and he's loved by the people who know him. And my mom, well she's strong. Very strong. She's also very smart. I feel privilidged to be the product of their love.

Why'd she have to be so pretty?

I just found out that my exboyfriend's NEW girlfriend is pretty. Like, really pretty. She has perfect teeth and a really nice body, and is tall and slim.YUCK!

This is the girl that he broke up with me for.  For a long time I couldn't figure it out. I had had alot of conversations with her over emails and facebook and stuff like that, and she was always so insecure over me, thinking I was gonna steal him away from her. So I always assumed she was ugly. LOL  Well, now, 3 years later I can tell you, that is not the case.

We happen to have a couple mutal friends on our facebook list that I didn't know of and I came across her name by chance one day. Curiosity got the better of me and I clicked on her picture and wouldn't you know it, a whole bunch of her photo's popped up. I couldn't help myself from going through every single picture with my jaw dropped to the ground. This was the girl who was jelouse of ME? OMG She's downright beautiful. Maybe a little trashy looking....hehe...but she WAS beautiful.

I don't know why, even after all these years, that it really affected me. I guess it was easier to process getting dumped when I thought she was probably a dog. I'm so glad I didn't know at the time. Sheesh. Serves me right for creeping on her photo's. Lesson learned.

Out of Rahab

I just got out of rehab. I was living in a christian rehab centre for the past year.  You see, I've had "issues" with drinking and drugs all my life. Ever since the first time I tasted vodka, when I was 15 years old. Its so scary to think that my oldest daughter is going to be 15 this year. I totally still remeber being that age. All the thoughts and feelings I had about my super strict parents. How sheltered I was from the realities of the world. SCARY.

Anyhoo, the past year has been hard. And interesting. It was ther first time ever that I spent enough time being sober to find out who I really was. What I found out I had alot of characteristics that I didn't like. Dammit. I had fooled myself into thinking I was such a good person my whole life, only to find out how self centered and mean I really was.

I also realized how hard it was to come under authority. While I lived in rehab I had to obey all sorts of rules that I thought were stupid. I felt almost daily a struggle deep inside me. I learned not to talk back(amazingly enough), and be obedient. Even if the person who was in authority over me was younger than me, and closer to my oldest daughter's age.

I am glad that the year is through. I feel that I have grown in some ways that I really needed to grow. I am now on my own and in my own appartment, but still connected with the rehab centre. Its been a week so far and I gotta say....I FEEL FREE!!!