Only God can SAVE YOU

Don't think for one moment that by writing this blog I am having problems with my marriage. We are good, still coping with what happened a year ago but as I've said before, this blog has been an outlet for my emotions & so this is simply me getting out something I'm bottling up inside.

A year has past and yet I still think of D. Almost everyday something reminds me of him. It's usually a song on the radio but it could also be something I see in the news, or on a tv show, or even something someone says.  I don't talk about it with anyone, for reasons of embarrassment, guilt, and merely b/c I don't want to hear " You shouldn't be thinking of him!".  As much as I hate to say it, Unless you've walked in my shoes or down a path similar to mine you have no right to degrade me for how I feel. 


You are probably thinking that sit around thinking about the good times we shared.That is normally what people do when they think about a person they care about, but it's quite the opposite actually.  I picture him shoving a needle in his arm or 'geeking' around the house while high on meth, or yelling at his mom for not calling her dealer to hook him up with another score or even yelling at me for not getting out of bed to drive him to meet his dealer to pick up his next high. I think of all the bad things I experienced when I was with him. I think about how crazy I was for putting myself through that situation for as long as I did. If any friend of mine would have told me she was living the lifestyle I had lived I would have been appalled. I would have wondered what was so wrong with this girl to think she didn't deserve any better, I would say she is stupid, crazy even for being in a relationship with a drug addict when she herself doesn't do drugs. I would also have do reconsider the idea that she doesn't do drugs. Besides, how can someone that doesn't do drugs honestly love and care for someone that does, and why would a person that doesn't do drugs want to live around people that do?? It makes no sense, to me, a person that did these exact things.

When I left D, I cried. My heart literally hurt. I felt I was a failure. From the moment I learned of his addictions I vowed to help him get away, to help him get clean. I felt I was good for him when in fact, I was wrong for him in all the ways I was good for him. I was strong & yet I was weak. Instead of helping him, I enabled him. I told him I wasn't like everyone else that had come and gone, I told him I would be there for him REGARDLESS and I told him I WASN'T GOING ANYWHERE. Even to this day I wonder if there was anything I could have done differently to help him.

MUSIC is my anti-drug. When I feel happy, I turn up the radio and dance around the house & sing as loud as I can & when I am depressed I always am able to find a song that says exactly what I feel, except when it comes to D. Until this past week I had not found any music that I feel relates to my feelings about him. This particular song  I've had on my ipod for a long time and never listened to it. It's from the album "All I've Ever Wanted" by KELLY CLARKSON & it's called 'SAVE YOU'.  - Every single word, from begining to the end is as if it came from me. I was sitting at my desk at work, with my ipod on shuffle when it came on. With the first few sentences I had goose bumps & I just knew this was going to be hard to listen to, but I wanted to hear it. I can't help but to cry when I listen to it but it gives me hope that someone out there knows exactly how I am feeling and knowing I am not alone makes it easier.

A good friend of mine asked me the other day about this song & what I was talking about when I hinted to writing about it on my facebook page. She is always able to help me understand why I feel certain ways. I don't feel like she judges me but yet she is brutally honest with me & I love her for that. As much as I want to save D, you must know & understand; I do not want to save him so that I can go run off with him. I want to save him b/c I care about him and want him to be happy & healthy. He is someone I've known since I was 16 years old, the young D I met was not a drug addict, and it is that young boy that I see in him that needs help.

THE WAY I SEE IT - I need to learn to accept the fact that I can not Save anyone, especially a drug addict. There is only two things that will end his suffering, & that is GOD or Death..

So, of course I am going to share my song with you. In case you dont feel like actually listening to the song, I will simply post the lyrics - besides, that is the important part anyhow.

I Can Tell

I Can Tell

How much You hate This

Deep Down Inside

You Know It's Killing Me

I Can Call, Wish You Well

And Try To Change This

But Nothing I Can Say

Would Change Anything

Where Were My Senses

I Left Them All Behind

Why Did I Turn Away

I Wish I Could Save You

I Wish I Could Say To You

I'm Not Going Nowhere

I Wish I Could Say To You

It's Gonna Be Alright

It's Gonna Be Alright

I Didn't Mean

Didn't Mean

To Leave You Stranded

Lent Away Cause I

Didn't Want To Face The Truth

Reaching Out

Reach For Me

Empty Handed

You Don't Know if I Care

You're Trying To Find The Proof

There Were Times I'd Wonder

Could I Have Eased Your Pain

Why Did I Turn Away

I Wish I Could Save You

I Wish I Could Say To You

I'm Not Going Nowhere

I Wish I Could Say To You

It's Gonna Be Alright

It's Gonna Be Alright ( Alright )

It's Gonna Be Alright (Save You)

It's Gonna Be Alright ( I Wish I Could Save You )

We Can Pretend Nothings Changed

Pretend It's All The Same

And There Will Be No Pain

Tonight.. 

It's Gonna Be Alright (It's Gonna be Alright)

I Wish I Could Save You

I Wish I Could Say To You

I'm Not Going Nowhere (Save You)

I Wish I Could Say To You (Say To You)

It's Gonna Be Alright

It's Gonna Be Alright( Alright )

It's Gonna Be Alright (Save You)

It's Gonna Be Alright ( I Wish I Could Save You )

It's gonna be alright.

My Candid BLOG. . . about the Author.

I guess now that my personal blog has gone viral, and my very first blog written doesn't exactly explain anything about ME, I will take the time to give you a little background about JUST ME & Why I BLOG! As if my title and description are not enough, I thought some of you might would be interested in knowing who in the word is this crazy chick!? So, without further a dew...

Welcome to the world of ~ TIFFANY ~ where sometimes I make no sense, but to me I make perfect sense! I have very few friends, not because I am not likable, but more so because most people just don't understand me. Some people say I am stupid, some say I have no common sense, and those that know me best will say I am a little out there. In some ways, all are true. I sometimes say & do some of the most stupid things, those are the times when I learn, about myself, about other people, & about life in general. If you cant ever do something stupid & laugh at yourself for it then you are just too fucking uptight! Life is too short to be serious 24/7! As far as common sense, I got cheated! I am book smart! I have  3.75 GPA in college (ok, this is from 2007 but it still counts!). When it comes to being crazy, that's a given! In February 2011 a team of doctors & psychologist determined that I have Bipolar Disorder. I've yet to believe them, I honestly think it's just called L*I*F*E

I was brought into this world 28 years ago (As of July 13), before my third birthday my parents divorced and for reasons beyond my knowledge my father was granted custody of me. My mother moved to Florida where she met her husband & they lived their lives, while I grew up with my Father & Step-mom. Together they had two other children, my half siblings. We lived in a poverty stricken town, and yes, we were poor! My dad & step-mom were common law married until I turned 11 years old, then they separated. Realizing he had no idea how to raise a pre-teen, my father made contact with my mom & sent me to live with her.

For three years I stayed in Florida and in that time I learned that my mom was a drug addict. At one point, she caught me crying in my room and after finding out that I was upset by seeing her smoke pot and snort pills she explained to me that she had been this way her whole life and she wasn't about to stop for anybody, and that included me. Growing up without my mom was very hard for me, but I somehow managed to paint a portrait of this wonderful fairy tail like person, so you can imagine the heart break I felt when I realized she was no where near like the type of mom I dreamed of all those years.

After learning my step-father's job was going to have us move for the third time in three years & this time all the way to Texas, I told my mother I didn't want to go & asked could she try to locate my Dad. I knew there was more to life for me than what she was able to offer. So, after locating my dad & moving back home I spent the remainder of my teen years back in Alabama with my Father.

I thought I had it made, my dad is a musician (he always has been, even since before I was born!) and so he spent his weekends playing in his band at bars in town, leaving me at home alone. I got into a little bit of trouble with boys during the next two years, but let's face it; What would you expect of your 14/15 year old daughter? Anyhow, less than two years went by before my dad met the woman that to this day I call my step-mom. She is 4 years older than me. At first I thought this was going to be awesome, a mom that could relate to me! Uh NO, just the opposite, she would try to make friends with 'my friends' and even flirted with my boyfriends (in complete denial), plus so many other things that happened. Our closeness in ages ultimately caused a strain on my dad's relationship with me.

With things at home being very intense, I moved out when I was 17 years old. I moved in with my mother's baby sister, my aunt & her family (husband & three kids). I lived in her basement. She (with her husbands help & the help from my grandmother) helped me get my drivers license, a car, and a job.  I worked, finished my senior year of school, then after two years went by, God sent me an Angel. I met my husband.

In the past 8 years we have been together, we have had a lot of ups and downs. The most difficult thing we have went through was our separation. I created my blog to put a stop to rumors that were circulating among my husbands family & friends & even between some of my own regarding what caused me to just up and leave him and my girls in October 2010. I was living in a meth house, with several drug addicts, one of which was my boyfriend whom I left my husband to be with. I was living there for four months and during that time I was faced with some of the hardest decisions of my life to date.  After finally agreeing to leave that environment, my family & husband concluded that either I was mentally insane or using drugs myself.

After passing a drug test, the doctors decided that I needed to be medically evaluated for a mental disorder, which later would be determined that I have Bipolar Disorder. (I'm in complete denial about this!) It is my opinion that i was not "going crazy" I was merely experiencing L*I*F*E and hit a breaking point. Even though that chapter in my life is over, I still find Blogging to be soothing, and a good stress relief. I like to keep things real. I blog about issues within my personal life. I discuss things that most people are too scared or embarrassed to talk about.  One of my followers called me "CANDID" the other day, & i was uncertain as to it's meaning so I had to look it up. This word is absolutely a perfect fit for my personality & who I am.

The way I see it.....I am nothing more or nothing less than Who I AM: Candid   -frank; outspoken; open and sincere, free from reservation, disguise, or subterfuge;straightforward: a candid opinion.

Am I just a FooL?

When the addict says "i want to change" do they really mean it? When they say "I'm sorry baby it wont happen again" or even "I'm tired of this lifestyle, I want to get my life straight" Are they serious or delusional?

There is only so many times you can hear these phrases before you realize they dont mean it. Maybe they do deep in their heart, maybe they even want to but they dont know where to start. Whatever it may be, at some point you must let it go in one ear & out the other to protect yourself. There is a saying, & I have learned its best to live by it; "FooL me once, shame on YOU but FooL me twice, Shame on ME!".

I believed D when we first started talking when he said he wanted to get clean & wanted a normal life with me. I was so gullible to his lies. At the end of my stay with him I remember him telling me " I dont want to change, I like getting High!". Hearing that literally broke me. I use to be the person to give people the benifit of doubt but not anymore.

Your actions speak louder than your words. Knowing now what I learned about an addicts lifestyle, I would never allow myself to believe those type phrases again. I say, "You get from Life what you put into it" therefore, if your doing bad things, your going to have bad outcomes. There are alternatives & every actions there are reactions.

I wish I knew what was his true intentions. I wish I could see inside his mind, his thoughts just long enough to know for sure how he really feels.

Knowing, or feeling like I was simply USED, yeah that feeling kinda sux.

My first drug

Living around drug addicts I became all too familiar with their stories of how they got hooked on drugs. Everyone's story was different and yet they were all the same in the sense that all it took was one time. I found myself more and more curious about their lifestyle and I became less concerned with the dangers of being involved. I thought i was strong enough to not get sucked into it but the longer I stayed the weaker I became.

I began feeling like an outsider. I had very little in common with these people. I knew of a world full of fun and excitement. My past weekends included doing things like going to bars, going to see a movie, having cookouts with family or friends, taking my kids to the park, camping, fishing, or going shopping. Not once did anyone there make plans to go do anything outside of Empire. They all lived each day looking for a way to get high, or a way to make a quick dollar so that they could get high.

I wanted so badly to have something in common with D, with this lifestyle, so that giving up my life with my kids would be somewhat worth it. Toward the end of my four month stay I was not the same strong person I started out as. I had been pressured to try every drug you could possibly name and even though i was able to turn them down, there was one drug that I decided was not a big deal to try.

I smoked pot for my first time as a teenager. It made me dizzy, sick to my stomach and made me pass out. On three different occasions I tried to smoke pot when I was 16. That was the only drug I had ever done and I didn't plan on doing anything ever again, until living in Empire that is. Marijuana was everywhere, cheap and everyone smoked it. I came to a point of wanting something in common with these people and this was the only thing I could see myself doing and told myself it wasn't a big deal. 

The first few times it made me sick just the same way as when I was a teenager. Many people laughed about how it made me feel and poked fun at me for not being able to handle it.  Even though it made me sick, I kept smoking it. It took me about 7 times of smoking pot before I started to feel "high" like everyone else. When I say I smoked pot, it wasn't like your thinking. I never smoked more than two hits off a joint and only one hit from a blunt. I could smoke one puff and get stoned while everyone else would smoke an entire joint or blunt. Joints are like a rolled up cigarette and blunts are like a cigar.

The first time I got high it scared me to death. I thought I was going to die. My heart was beating heavily in my chest and I felt like a brick was on my chest making it hard for me to breathe. My face was numb, i couldn't hold my eyes open very wide and I couldn't talk. I could hear everyone around me laughing and talking about me but I couldn't respond. At one point I elbowed David and told him I wasn't feeling right and he reassured me that I was just stoned. This feeling lasted about 30 minutes. When I finally came around to my self I said I wouldn't ever smoke again, yet just days later I did. I smoked pot 6 days in a row, every afternoon, telling myself it was to help me sleep, which it did.

 Looking back, that makes me sick knowing that I changed what I believe in for someone else. I was living a lifestyle that went against every belief I had. My morals and my faith were tested heavily. With each passing day I failed, as a mother and as a christian.

Lifestyle of an Addict

Get ready, this is a long one, but its an important piece of the puzzle of my lifestyle living with D.


After acceptance of who D really was, a drug addict, it wasn't long before his friends and family members became comfortable using drugs around me.  I was somewhat curious about the drugs so I would stay in the room unless they asked me to leave. I found myself mesmerized by how many different drugs one person would do in the same day. Living there I learned pretty much everything there is to know about the lifestyle of a drug addict. The one thing that stands out in my mind is they Live to get high. Their day begins and ends with them chasing a high that I believe they will never find. Many of them told me all it took was just one time of trying meth for them to get hooked, and yet they all begged me daily to try it "just one time".  Meth wasn't the only drug I became familiar with. They had a routine and it wasn't long before I knew what they were going to want to do before they said anything about it.

His mother had a routine that she followed at the first of the month after getting her disability check. She would pay for gas in my jeep for me to take her around to pay the power and water bill, go pick up her HIV meds, and go to the dollar store to buy items for the house. Also, received $300 in food stamps so I would take her to get groceries but she would only spend half or a  little more on groceries then go exchange the rest of her food stamps for drugs. The drug dealers would get her card & pin number, go to the grocery store then return it to her with her drugs. If she wanted $50 in drugs then they would buy $100 of groceries. This was a monthly thing that I observed not only from D's mother but from several other people.

For D, his routine was every week beginning on Friday.  Friday was payday, and that always made me dread the weekend. First of all D was suppose to give his mother money for the bills and help buy groceries for the house. Also he promised to help me pay my jeep payment and insurance since I was taking him back and forth to work. He never did this. The most he did was give his mom $25 or $40 to keep her from yelling and arguing with him He would buy food for himself from walmart's deli or a $5 dollar pizza, oh yeah one time he bought about $30 in groceries, but he complained about having to do it. Lastly, he would put a few dollars of gas in my jeep but it was never more than just enough to get him back and forth to work.

So, on Friday after picking him, his dad and his uncle up from work the first thing they all wanted to do is go was to the beer store. After getting home he would eat supper then he would ask me to take him down the road to a friends house aka "the camp". It didn't take me but just one time to figure out this "friend" was a drug dealer. There were five men that he would go to regularly, aside from getting random items from real friends or other family members. One of his regular (ice aka meth) drug dealers just happened to be one of his cousins. He would get his drugs, go back to the apartment and hide in our room or the bathroom to do them. After about a month of being there he was more comfortable with me being there and he would do his drugs in front of me both smoking the meth and shooting it up his veins. I hated the thought that someone would be so addicted to a drug they would put needles in their veins. I was sad for him, he didn't like that he had to do this but he had been a meth addict for so long that smoking it didn't really get him high anymore. He would go through a gram or more in one night.

Most times he would get finished and ask me to take him back to get more, or he would call up someone else to get something different. There were many nights we were awake till 1 or 2 a.m. because he had gotten high and was what they call "geeking", its where he would always say he was looking for something but he never would find it. He would pull the couch apart, or pull everything out of the closet, he would raise up the carpet to look under it, and many many times he would think he dropped something in my jeep so i would have to let him go "geeking" through my jeep. I hated this and often I would get very angry with him because I would have to get up and go to work the next morning where he could stay up for days with little or no sleep. It was very unfair, yet I continued to put up with it.

Every week D would be broke by Sunday night or Monday at the latest so when I would get my paycheck every other Tuesday, he would ask to borrow money and promise to pay it back on Friday. If I said no we would fight, not physically but verbally and it was always more intense than my husband and I ever fought. D would cuss me, call me names and even threaten to hit me. He never did hit me but I was always scared he would so therefore I always gave in to what he wanted. Once one of his family members told me hat he said he didn't care about me that he was only using me for my car and money.

I know your probably wondering why in the world did I agree to do this, why did I continue to live in these conditions. I was afraid to be alone. I knew I couldn't go back home because I had already begged Jamie to take me back and he said no. Jamie had a girlfriend that made him happy, she treated him better than I had and so he had no reason to take me back. I felt stuck. I had the opportunity to go stay with my father but I had a really good reason for not staying there. I also had my brother's house but they have helped out people in the past and all it did was put a strain on their family.

In other words, I didn't want to be a burden to anyone. I felt as if I sort of deserved to put up with this lifestyle. I did this to myself therefore I had to get myself out of this situation. Little did I know but I was sinking deeper and deeper into depression and eventually I began feeling hopeless and I started having suicidal thoughts.

I didn't understand why I was going through this. I have always said I believe everything in life happens for a reason. God doesn't make mistakes, and if God brings you to it, he will get you through it.