Sex. The good, the bad, and the scary. 

Sex is a subject that is really personal to a lot of people and for good reasons. With Valentine’s Day being yesterday, I figured today is a good time to talk about it. 

A lot of people have sexual trauma in there past. I unfortunately happen to be one of them. To add to that, my addiction also took me to prostitution which is a whole other road, but sex none the less. 

I’ve been raped in my life journey, unfortunately more then once. Some were more brutal then others, but they all leave the same painful mark. Every time, a piece of me was taken. My family doesn’t know about any of it. It took me a long time to be able to talk about it to anyone, and even too this day only a few people know about it. One thing I did learn from each experience is that sex is a powerful thing. Men will do almost anything for it and I’m sure some women too. 

When I started prostituting those rapes made it easier to handle. Also the promise of getting my fix afterwards helped a lot too. Just like with rape, I was able to mentally block out what was happening. I started using sex as a paycheck and viewing it as business. No feeling, not caring, just waiting for the end to come as quickly as possible. You would be suprised by the people who paid girls like myself too. Firefighters, CEOs, lonely single dads, older happily married gentlemen just looking for a release. You get used to the stale compliments, the way your skin crawls when they touch you, or even the things they say in the process. For some of them you become they’re girlfriend in a sense. Just like you need them for the income, they need you for companionship and intimacy. Soon, you begin to develop regulars who you can count on weekly. They start talking about how they miss you, and can’t wait to see you and how much fun they had the time before. Some start to go further. Asking you out for a date or dinner, and you come up with reasons why that can’t happen. Some people are just really lonely, others need the validation sex gives them. As long as they pay and supply the money for the next fix, you play whatever role is needed. 

You live in fear that one day one of these random men you get acquainted with is a police officer, or even scarier someone you or your family knows. I unfortunately had the pleasure of having a weekly meeting with a neighbor who lived 5 houses down from my father. I would listen some days as we would drive by, as my dad would make remarks about his lawn or the new BMW sitting in his driveway. I kept thinking to myself if my dad only knew. And how could “John” stomach looking my father in the face and shaking his hand at the next neighborhood get together. 

You try your best to hide from your friends and roomates what is really going on. You make up other stories about what’s happening, but in reality, giving them some drugs with the money you earned makes the questions cease to halt. You lose sight of what sex is supposed to be. 

For me, my prostitution didn’t kick off until my fiancée and I were on a break while he was trying to get his life pulled back together. With him, I knew what making love was. He was and is still the only person I have ever made love too. It was just sex, drugs or money with him. It was real, mad passionate love. There were certain things I would refuse to do with my johns and kept as something that only happened with him. I felt bad for doing what I was doing while being with him, but it was at times to supply our habits and other times to just supply mine. 

I wonder what would have happened if I had gotten a chance to tell him the truth about everything before his passed. That I will never know the answer too, but a few things I know are true today. 

Ever since he passed I have only prostituted with one person. Any kind of non payment sex has left me with feelings of shame and guilt after the fact. I always wonder why now, because I never had those feelings before. I find myself wondering if I will ever get out of the mindset that sex is just a paycheck. I also wonder if I’ll ever be able to make love to another man. 

I do know, my past doesn’t define me. It’s a scary place, by I never have to be there again. My rapes do not make me damaged goods. I am a survivor and proud of the woman I am today. 

There are wounds that never show on the body, that are deeper, and more hurtful than anything that bleeds. -Laurell Hamilton 

Thataddictedgirl xoxo

Comparing has given me nothing but misery. 

December 21st, 2013. Is a day that I will never forget. It is the day my fiancé passed away and my life changed drastically. I was lost, broken, hurt and so afraid. I didn’t know where else to turn except to the one thing I knew would make sure I couldn’t feel any of those feelings. 

I spent the next 8 months going through the motions of active addiction trying to not feel, and pretending the giant hole in my heart wasn’t there. I literally felt and still do to a degree, empty. I feel like a part of me is missing and honestly it is. 

Since I’ve been in recovery, and it’s been a little over a year since he passed I noticed myself doing a few things. I started putting myself out there trying to find him again in other people. I’d go out on a first date and I would compare them, I would compare the feelings I was having to the ones I had on our first date. I would project and I would judge them. I’ve done this a couple times now and after the date ends, I just feel miserable and miss him even more. 

I’ve started coming to the conclusion I’m not going to find him in anyone else. And I have decided as hard as it might be I need to learn to cope with that. That means working through it and starting to figure out how to live in the present. I know I will never get over him. I will always love him, and he will always be my soulmate. However, knowing him, he’s planning something for me up there. I just know he’s waiting until I’m ready because I obviously have some things to work out before I even say the word relationship. 

Maybe I will find someone like him some day. Maybe I’ll be able to love them as much as I loved him, and just maybe they will be able to love every flaw and every piece of me as much as he did. 

Death is nothing at all. I have only slipped away to the next room. I am I, and you are you. Whatever we were to eachother, that, we still are. -Henry Scott Holland

Shame and Guilt, the feelings associated with thinking of the past. 

Yesterday I found myself in an odd situation and it made me consider a few things. On my way home from work, I started dwelling on the past. Thinking about the events in the few days before I came into recovery this time. I noticed a few things when this happened. My entire mood changed, I had this horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach and I couldn’t seem to shake the tape that was playing in my head. 

I became really easily agitated. Things people were doing just going about daily life were bothering me. 

And finally I noticed that the events and planning I was in the middle of doing is what caused this to all come about, and worst of all, the feeling of being overwhelmed caused me to start thinking about giving up. 

For any addict that is a dangerous place to be. Even though I worked my steps, thoroughly, these things still come about from time to time. A lot of people see addicts characterized by the wreckage of their past and not what they are doing, or have become in the present. This also causes us a great deal of stress. Some people get so overwhelmed trying to prove themselves to people they get lost in people pleasing and forget what this journey is all about. 

I should probably elaborate on what sparked this whole situation to come about. I have been looking into purchasing a new vehicle. Along with that comes insurance and other fees and trying to calculate and plan became really stressful for me. It brought me back to where I have been. With a car, with insurance when all of this was already figured out. 

Normal people don’t have this issue. Simple things spiral us into thoughts of the past, and our disease takes over and we have to remind ourselves that everything will be okay. We need to remember where our feet are today. And that we are making moves to do the right thing, in the right way and that everything will work out as planned. 

I used to have a big problem being stuck in the past. I’ve learned to recognize it and stop that tape in its tracks. I am not my past. All the things I have had don’t matter any more because I don’t have them today. I am literally starting life over again with no help and that’s something to take pride in. I have faith that since I’ve had these things before, I can again.

As long as I keep my recovery priority, I will be able to make anything happen. And as for the people close to us that live in the past, pray for them. They fight their own battles too. 

Keep on warriors. The promises do come true. 

Every saint has a past, every sinner has a future. -Oscar Wilde

that addicted girl xo

Can we really say we know how to validate ourselves?

One of the big things I know I have struggled with in the past is self validation. Whether it’s because I’m playing the tape through from my childhood, or listening to my parents start plucking away at my self-esteem, it all correlates. The relationships I have been in, except for my fiancé, all were abusive. Some physically, some emotional and some a little of both worlds. Being sober, and starting to work on myself I have started noticing my patterns. I let those men take advantage of me that way because I had no self esteem, and no regard for myself and my well being. My fiancé was the first person who started building me up instead of tearing me down. He would tell me I’m beautiful till he was blue in the face just as long as I would start to believe it. He showed me what real, unconditional love is. He taught me how to have a healthy relationship, healthy fights and to be able to accept love. When my fiancé passed away, I literally felt like my soul had been ripped in two. My heart had a void, and the only way I knew how to fill it was with drugs. I knew how to escape those feelings and numb them, now not so much. Now I deal with it as if it just happened and not a year ago. I have literally restarted the grieving process and with that, I have had to start learning how to self validate myself. I have gone on dates since his passing and this new thing started happening once I started working on myself. 

I realize what a true womanizer really is. I am not just here for your pleasure. I have a brain, thoughts, flaws, quirks and I’m not a huge fan of pants. These are things you have to be okay with. I have male friends, I work in a male dominated industry, I will not change my career path for you. 

Where does my validation come from these days?

  • Busting my ass at the gym
  • Supporting others when they need my help
  • The post it notes on my mirror
  • Doing things for myself
  • Not worrying about what others think

Now I know this all seems pretty easy, however it isn’t. Do I sometimes feel like male attention would be nice? Yes, but I’m not willing to deal with the price that comes with it at this point. I feel my mister right was already in my life. However maybe some day God will feel it nessecary to put another man in my life, but only when I’m ready. I still have a lot of issues pertaining to his death, those also prevent me from a relationship. The difference today though? I’m okay with it! 

I’m just learning who I am. What do I have to give someone else right now? 

Start validating yourself! Don’t ask if you look okay, instead turn that butt around and say, “damn, look at me go.” Or even just acknowledge what you have done for yourself today. 

You are beautiful

You are good enough

You are strong 

You need no one but yourself 

Be the change you wish to see in the world  

Be that girl that when you wake up and your feet touch the ground, the devil yells, “oh shit, she’s up!”


The Addicted Girl xoxo

An open letter from a recovering Heroin addict

To anyone who understands, tries too or just cant seem too,

         Like many addicts I have come to know and love in recovery, I have a story. It is most definetly my own, although some parts maybe similar to others, it will always be my own. I’m not here to share my story about what happened in the past but I am here to share about my life today. Everyday on social media there is at least one person who is currently struggling, someone that is struggling because a loved one is, or someone who is struggling with ignorance because this disease has yet to hit them in a way where they would seek out ways to understand. 

Like many addicts this is not my first go around at trying to stay abstinent from a drug which took everything from me. That portion of it is also why people who are not affected by this disease have such a hard time grasping that statement, “I will continue to chase that drug, even if I’m sober and doing all the right things to keep it that way, I still have cravings for the one thing that ruined my life, and took everything from me.” I personally have been in the spot I know a lot of addicts have been in during active addiction.  That space in your head where you are just so miserable and want nothing more then to quit but you can’t. Your body physically won’t allow you to. Even if you muster up the will power to try, in a few short hours your disease, and body sick from withdrawal, will rip that willpower right from you. Once you begin to realize this cycle, death seems to be the only option and one your starting to welcome. 

Addiction in part for a lot of people, and myself included is the inability to deal with feelings. That is something that even with 7 months sober I still deal with today. Honestly, I would compare more of my life in recovery today as a little girl going through puberty, minus all the body changes that is. Now, I’m not going to say it’s all in part to my addiction, but a lot of it is in part to things that have happened in my past, and like I pointed out that all goes back to my inability to cope with those feelings that the past brings up. Things people take for granted, such as trust, love, empathy, vulnerability and so much more. Those are the things I struggle with most, things that seem so simple, especially something like love. Unless you’ve been there, you have no idea how hard a relationship can be in recovery. Your either too involved or so scared and put off by the thought, you can’t be involved in one, no matter what or how hard you try. Trying to trust someone is also a big one for many. A lot of people relate best with an abused dog who is afraid to be touched. The longing is there for the ability to be able to be touched, but the fear of being hurt or abandoned again outweigh any other feelings. 

My life today is by no means a life of luxury and eternal happiness. But today I am a better person, and a happier person, than I have ever been. It took me being suicidal, strung out, and so emotionally drained to be able to realize that I needed to do whatever is suggested of me this time, or I will in fact die. Today I am the heroine of my story. My addiction brought me down to a southern state with nothing but a duffel bag full of clothes, and the hope that something this time was going to be different.  That it is in fact possible to be released from the grips heroin has had on me all these years. 

Today I find peace in honesty. I find serenity in doing the next right thing, and by helping others. I fight my battle not so much against my addiction anymore, but against the people who don’t understand the disease. The people who have called me every name associated with that social stigma of addiction. I lend my hand to others who are suffering and see no way out. I hold them up and show them what life could be, and that the people who mind don’t matter, and the people who matter don’t mind. I advocate for people who have lost their voice just like I did, and I fight the war with them to get it back. 

As a heroin addict I am not  a worthless junkie. I did not choose what I became, but I did choose to become someone better. I have an illness, not something I elected for at birth. My disease, runs rampant in my mind, and wishes nothing but death and suffering upon me. Just like you wouldn’t wish your grandmothers cancer on anyone, I would never wish my addiction on anyone either. 

You may see me as a lowlife, you may see me as a useless junkie. But I am not defined by my past. My present is what makes me who I am today. A working member of society, a woman with morals, and standards. And more then that, I am a woman who knows my worth and the worth of countless other addicts. I promise to never give up on those who need help, and to never judge someone by their past. These are all the things that make me who I am today. Recovery is possible, and so is breaking the stigma. 

Do not walk a mile in the shoes of an addict to understand. Simply listen to the addict, the one that still suffers and the one who has found the solution. In doing that I promise, you will see that we are just like anyone else that you hold close to your heart. However to some, we will always remain “the addict”, but to others we will be the fighters, who try hard everyday to be the change they wish to see in the world. 

With all my love,

     That Addicted Girl xo