PLEASE YOU GUYS, I HAVEN’T BEEN AROUND IN FOREVER
be-a-happier-me.tumblr.com/ask (opens in new window)
Anonymous asked: funny - have a good time. Maybe it'll be the last of ditching people just because.
Okay Taylor, you can fuck off. First off, you weren’t even in town, you were in rehab. Second, I was attempting to quit dope, yes I failed then but at least I fucking tried. Third, bettering myself is better than being around compulsive liars and whores who got me where I was in the first place. kthnxbye
January 19, 2013.
The first date that means anything to me. I did meth for the first time. Once or twice a week I would share my smoke with four of my friends. We would smoke up to 18 hours a day. During those methscapades I was given the title of “Momma Meth”, I taught them how to make light bulb pipes, taught them how to hit it, gave them hits for a month before they caught on, kept every tweaker multi-mix story and argument on track all at once, and was the only one with a job. It was pure Chaos, Tay and Haze would be couple fighting, Sparky would be staring at me silently for up to about an hour while I smoked alone because no one spoke up, and De’v.. well I really only remember fucking her and walking through the neighborhood at 3 am with her. I started smoking anywhere from a half(.5g) to a teenager(1.7ish g) a day, alone. Fucked off school and became dead broke, but I had a job. Despite being the only one who had a job, I lost who I was. We all did.
March 15, 2013 a wonderful person named Nic(ole) Reyes (Patrickfuckinstar) followed me on my now deleted meth blog (
alife-unlived). I was the first blog that she even looked at when she created her tumblr, thankfully I was first on the Meth tag. We started talking, instantly hit it off, traded numbers, and then constantly talked. I fell so hard for her and I just NEEDED to meet her. Thankfully she felt the same. On April 8th, 2013 Nicole’s good friend Christi drove her from OKC to Tulsa just to meet me. I was so nervous, I felt like I was going to die of happiness or something. I came down the night before but she was still extremely high, but it was a dream come true. She was everything I wanted, I already knew most of her secrets and she knew mine. We struggled with meth use though. Badly.
- The day we met
*I miss her so much, I still lover her more than I ever should..*
- The tattoos: 4813 & hope (tatts by Nic)
- Nicole and I (late summer)
In May of 2013 I moved in with my mother in Oklahoma City, running from my addiction and closer to the love of my life Nic. She moved in with me at my mother’s house and it was amazing. Besides the fact that we were drug addicts attempting to quit cold turkey. We ended up using together many, many times. Every time she was high, coming down, or had been sober for 2 weeks our relationship was in hell. It was bad.. Not only were the drugs a problem, she was facing the possibility of prison which added her want to get high while she could and fear for what would come. After many court hearings she got sentenced with a year in R.I.D. with 2 years of probation and five years deferred. [Sidenote: She cheated on me with an inmate and they are on an off all the time.] The night before she got incarcerated we got INSANELY high. and she went to county so twacked out that I’m surprised she even came down the next day.
After Nic was taken into custody I began my senior year and stopped using and began drinking heavily, and would smoke up to an ounce a day. Then I met the druggies of the school and would get whatever I could get a hold of. Life became one big blur of being fucked up. Sobriety at any moment was surreal. Life became my duo of the seemingly perpetual inebriation along with the occasional alert euphoria.
By November I discovered a secret about my “best friend” that happened one night after we drank together and I went to sleep.. too drunk to wake back up.. He molested me. I trusted that disgusting fucker with my life he was my big brother and he defiled every meaning of that trust and those titles of best friend and big bro.The day I was informed was the day I stopped leaving home, the last day I attended school, and the last day I cared about staying sober… the last day I cared about staying alive. After that I constantly partied; drinking, weed, bars, coke, meth, and anything else we could find.
- Brandon the molester (middle)
While friends were over, Nic told me about her plan to transition and I broke down. I got as drunk as I could and honestly can’t remember more than a few seconds of this but I had sex with a friend. A guy. Kurt. I then found out that I was a home wrecker…. Yet he was happy that I freed him. He wanted me, I wanted time to reverse and avoid the mistake. Sadly I was then, and still now, incapable of reversing time. The next best thing, I hoped it would remain a secret and we would act as though it never happened. He agreed to strike it from the records… One problem.. My mother is a meth head who had fun ripping me and my sister apart limb from limb. “The Bitch” became the teenage neighborhood gossip broadcaster. and I lost all friends who had previously professed their love for me.
- Kurt and I
Everything was fine though, I had a great time with Kurt and was kind of into him for a minute….Then out came the beast. Kurt N. M. is an abusive unmedicated paranoid schizophrenic with enough strength to pick me up with one arm and plenty of venomous comments ready to kill multiple times a day. He tried with literally every drop of his nonfunctional seed to get me pregnant. I do believe that I got pregnant once and miscarried, other than that he thankfully failed. I was scared of everyday, scared that an old friend might just say “hi” because then he would become like an executioner ready to do his job.. and not to my friends, he was my executioner, though he did impersonate me and text them in such awful ways to where they would all say heartbreaking things about me and most of those have still not spoken to me.. I couldn’t even go out job hunting, he lost his job by controlling my every move so I had to stay home while he “worked” with my mom. Meaning while they did meth in her truck then shoveled snow and shit like that. It was fucking December. He texted me constantly accusing me of cheating on him and even while he was home for a week straight, had my phone the whole time, and I never left his sight, I would be accused of cheating on him. One day when we had the house to ourselves everything blew up and I found my strength only after attempting a painful escape from all my troubles.
Our biggest fight began and I thought my only escape was a head first concrete dive through my second story window once he ran downstairs to grab a knife. That man had a knife in hand and threatened my life immediately after pulling me back in my window. He was somehow ignorant enough to expect me to be scared. Wrong, I stepped right up saying, “Then do it. I’ll probably do it myself anyway.”, giving him permission. My response stunned him, he gave me a fake out jab and I didn’t even flinch. In that instant I saw how weak he really was, it was then we knew who was really strongest. he knew that I had figured it out. His only safety was kicking me down, I attempted to stand and was kicked back down yet again. Only this time he stood with his foot on my chest to keep me there. I just glared at him, the kind of glare that screamed “You are dead”. After a few seconds of his look of anger and failure while seeing my fearless glare he moved his foot and I was free. I stood up, body sore, and ran down stairs to the front door, but as I opened it he reached past me and shut it. When I turned around I snarled “Get the fuck out of my house!” and he dropped to his knees starting to sob. I walked past him and screamed “GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE!” then proceeded to run upstairs packing my shit. He cried the loudest I have ever heard anyone cry. My theory? So he could use it for the countless day in a row to make me take him back, it was either threaten to turn us in for my mom’s drug peddling or high rank 20+ year Biker Gang connections and get me fucked through her and my sister sent away or crying to make me seem in the wrong. Crying was his only option now, it was December 29th, 2013 and I turned 18 on the 26th just a few days before. I was free to just walk out and not be reported as a runaway. I was free. That night I moved back to Tulsa and have been here since.
- DRUNK AS FUCK ON NEW YEARS EVE
If anyone reads this, I hope you enjoy.