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Never give up.

Everyone deserves a second chance

By Grace Ploenges-BeltchevPublished 3 years ago 4 min read
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Most fairytales have a damsel in distress, a villain, and a hero, in the following tale I am two and certainly not the latter.

Short background check first, I was raised in a small beautiful seaside town with residents who were forever in each other's business making sure everyone's secrets where kept from the outside world. My family life was rancid with lies and abuse, my father an alcoholic smack head and my mother quite frankly a child in need of protection. So I became that protector, I grew up too fast exposing myself to the hands of my fathers abuse and my mothers deception.

Thats when I began to run, run from my thoughts, my desires and to become numb. To be honest I was trying to find someone to love me.

Jumping forward to nineteen I found what I thought was love, but he like my father was an abuser. I had three amazing babies so I could keep his love and in turn put them in danger of myself.

I resented my children that doesn't mean I didn't love them but I resented them because I didn't love myself and I couldn't love them wholly unless I loved myself first. I started to learn how to run from the sadness that consumed my mind so I could try to raise my babies better than I was. I failed. I resorted to substances far worse than alcohol I became I methamphetamine user and in turn an addict. The government removed them from my care as I spiralled out of control.

Then I hit rock bottom I walked away and then ran again, I was almost sprinting towards a darkness where everything would be gone forever. Day after day for the next two years I smoked, snorted, injested and injected almost every mind, body, and soul altering drug known to man. I became a criminal I would beg, borrow and steal just to get mine and my friends next fix I had no conscience when it came to chasing nothing.

Here comes the part where the hero or should I say heros enter my tragic existence.

During a drug fuelled mission for revenge I sat in the cold of the night on the beach waiting for my next target to leave their house. I was scrolling the internet and came across a job opportunity. I had always dreamed of living and working on a remote station as a cook. Now as drugs have a tendency to remove memories I unknowingly applied for said job.The next morning I was woken by my phone ringing it was the owner of the cattle station, surprised I aced the interview and won the job.

The next two weeks I tried to self destruct as a voice that had lingered in my head since a child told me I wasn't good enough nor deserving of a new start. My best friend (who was equally as damaged as me and entrapped by escapism) pushed me to prove to her and mostly myself that we can change and become better than the lives we were living.

So in one fell swoop and one last shot, I packed my things and jumped on a plane. I turned my back on all that I had known and threw myself into the unknown. When I landed I was greeted by a Israeli, who worked at the station we drove for almost two hours in the dry red heat. When I arrived at the outback station I was welcomed with open arms. The bosses and other workers did not question my gaunt, ill looking state they just gave me what everyone I now believe deserves not just a second chance but a home and a family that loves them.

My now home took me for all my flaws, quirks, and neurotic ways. They have not judged me for my background, they gave me a home when I didn't think I would ever fit in. I get to bring love to the table 5 times a day with the universal language of food. I wake up with a smile on my face now and an ambition to change. I am finally starting to love myself and know true myself for the first time ever.

I guess this story shows that compassion and acceptance can change a person's world. We all are born to die and its what in-between that counts. If these strangers had not given my the opportunity I would not be excelling at life like I am now. If they hadn't seen me as equal as each of them regardless of my shattered past. I would still be repeating the same cycle until I ended up in a ditch somewhere with darkness consuming me not love uplifting me.

I hope this story brings hope to at least one person that reads it and just remember...

"Everything will be OK in the end and if its not ok its not the end" (John Lennon)

healing
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