For so many years, I would party and do insane things. I was a risk taker, impulsive, didn't care about the consequences of my actions, and never cared who got hurt. I was a delinquent. I had no respect for my parents or any adult authority. I was heading down a path I never knew existed.
When I turned 13, it was as if I had entered an entirely different universe. I began drinking, doing drugs, having sex, running away, and got myself into serious legal trouble. I had no cares in the world. I was living my life the way I felt like it, and I wasn't about to let anyone tell me otherwise. Little did I know, I would be finding out that's not how life worked.
I would skip class or even full days of school just to go party with people twice my age! I was so drunk or high most of the time I wouldn't know who these people were, but I never cared. I was just having fun—what could go wrong? Well, apparently, a lot.
My drug of choice besides alcohol was Ecstasy. I loved the way I felt! I felt invincible. I felt like nothing could go wrong. I would go out, party, lie about my age, have wild crazy sex that I would barely remember, then end up spending a few days in jail. The moment I would get out, I'd wait a few days and head back out for more fun and adventures.
My childhood was far from good. I was abused and treated so terribly that therapists deemed my behavior as normal until my adopted mother lied, saying I was just being a brat. Well, that was partially true. Otherwise, I just used the wild behavior as my outlet to distract myself from the ongoing abuse at home.
I had this thought that the more I took off, the easier life would be. I did learn a lot about life and what really is important while out on my adventures, but I never fully learned what it was like to be loved and enjoy a family. Partially my fault, partially my adopted family's fault. I would go out, come home so drunk, and just go to bed. I was an alcoholic by the time I was 14, and smoking so much pot that I smelled like it all the time. Nobody knew about my problem with the pills, though. Nobody realized when I was overly happy it was because I was on drugs worse than pot. They all just figured I was stoned.
School was so easy for me that no matter how high or drunk I was, I could still breeze on by without anyone noticing. I loved school, but I loved chasing my addictions more. I loved being able to go out and feel free. I loved the attention I would get when I'd be out partying.
Eventually, all my actions led me to end up in a juvenile prison for a year. I had finally done something bad enough that they sentenced me to prison. I had stabbed an officer with an ink pen, bad enough to cause him physical harm and damage. Did I care? No, I didn't. All I thought about was getting out and enjoying my life the way I wanted. Eventually, as the time went on while I was locked up, I started to realize how stupid I was being. Realized how crazy and unsafe I had been living. I had come to terms with the fact that if I decided to get out and continue to live my life that way, then I would end up back in prison or worse, dead.
I to this day only remember some of my teenage years. Most is honestly just a blur. I had no worries or fears. I will never forget the day that the realization of my actions actually hit me. I was sitting in this prison, reading a book, and all of a sudden had this feeling that it was time to think about what I wanted in life. Did I want to go to college? Of course, but for what? I still have yet to accomplish that goal, let alone figure out what I want to get a career in. Did I want a family? No, I honestly didn't want kids or to ever get married. I now have two beautiful boys, and I can say I'd never trade them for anything in the world. I still am not married, and I'm doubting I will ever be, and I can say I'm okay with that.
I had thought about my actions and what led me to be the horrible teen I was. I realized that if I continued down that road, nobody would miss me if I were to go back to prison, if I were to have died, or even disappeared. So I had asked to be placed in a group home for girls. I figured if I could make it there until my 18th birthday, I'd be set to succeed. I had overheard them talking to my case worker one day saying how I wouldn't be happy to find out that I'd have to go back home, to the place where I had been abused for so long, and that they weren't going to be the ones to tell me. I took that into my own hands and took off, ran away.
I was 17 at this point and had decided that I only needed to make it nine months, until I turned 18. I was facing felony charges at this time also for beating a girl up so horribly that they were charging me with felony child abuse because the girl was a few years younger than me. I didn't care about the fact that warrants would be out for my arrest, and I still took off.
I had fled the state, and went back to my old ways. I was drunk and high daily again, had not a single care in the world in regards to what my consequences were going to be if I got caught, and I didn't care what me missing was doing to those who might have cared. I was engaged, and I completely fled my fiance and everything I had once loved about him and I being a team. I was more concerned about when I'd be getting my next bottle or my next high. I chased these demons for months again.
I went to the next state and was reunited with some biological family. My uncle would put me to work around the place and in a sense make me earn my pot or alcohol. He actually helped me sober up for the most part. Yes, I was still drinking and smoking, but not nearly as much as I had been just a month before. I had some clarity. I started to have a conscious again and realized I was in a huge heap of trouble with the state and the law. So I finally came clean with my uncle about my warrants and the secret life I was living. He agreed to help get me back to settle the court stuff.
I haven't seen or hardly talked to my uncle since the day he dropped me off by my old friends, not because I don't want to... but because I feel so ashamed of what I had done. I felt so foolish for lying to him and hiding these things from him that I have just distanced myself again.
I still get the urge to go live my life the way I used to, but now that I'm a mother, I don't want to go back to living life in a blur, not knowing what I did or waiting to be drunk or high again. My ex smokes a lot of pot, which I'm not against in any way since I've done my fair share of research on what good it can do, but I know it will make me remember the good old days of being so messed up I couldn't function. That's not what I want. He was always trying to pressure me into smoking and would get mad when I'd say no. He never cared about why I would say no, he'd just get mad that I didn't want to do the things he wanted to do. Never cared about the reason why I would say no.
My life was a blur for so many years, and I can't get those years back. I can't change how I lived before, but I surely can change my future. My future is my choice. My future is for my kids and me. I can't let my blurry teenage years come back and become my present. I just can't. They say ecstasy causing you to get holes in your brain, is it true? Maybe. Maybe that's why I can't remember a lot. Maybe the amount I used to drink did it. Or maybe just the combination of all the other drugs and drinking I used to do is what caused these memory lapses, I'm never going to know. Either way, I will never let my life become a blur again.