What now?

So, what now? What do I write about next? Do I talk about the mess, the ugly stuff? Or do I talk about what I am doing today? Do I talk about my dog? My family? My childhood? I don’t know. But what I do know is that I literally couldn’t sleep last night and all I can think about is what to write next.

I have no idea who I am.

But what I do know is that I was born on December 23, 1991 in Mobile, AL. According to my mother, I was almost born on Government Blvd. in downtown Mobile. If you’re familiar with the city, then you know what I am talking about (unless you don’t). A few months after I was born, we moved into my childhood home that still stands today. I grew up on a farm in Daphne, Alabama. Corte farms. I have lived their my entire life with the exception of my college years that were taken to Birmingham for four loooooooooooooooong f***ed up years. We’ll get into the mess very soon. Growing up on a farm meant long days outside climbing trees, running through fields, and all things outside and dirty. My grandmother lived next door, across the corn field. She had a pool. I remember spending A LOT of time in that pool with my siblings and cousins. I also remember riding in the tractor, sitting in my grandfathers lap in the non-air condition, dirty, squeaky tractor as we rode a few feet before I was hot and ready to get out. Those were the days though.

I have a large family.

My parents got divorced when I was five. I can’t explain why. I used to think it was my fault. I blamed myself for years. One day my dad was just not there and the next thing I knew I was going to my dad’s one room studio apartment every other weekend. As a child, I was so innocent. I remember being so excited to go see my dad. Mainly because he knew how to have fun with me. We used to listen to Celine Dion and Shania Twain, and dance and sing. We’d go fishing every weekend out in the gulf and then he’d cook our fresh fish we caught while explaining to me exactly what he was doing and how he made it taste so good. He knew the way to my heart, through music and food and a damn good time.

That is me and my dad. And we sure do know how to have fun.

But shortly after that photo was taken, I was in rehab. I didn’t know that drugs and alcohol were taking ahold of me and driving all my decisions and actions in life. I thought I drank because it was fun. I thought I drank because everyone else did. I thought I did drugs because so did my friends. But the difference between me and them was that all I thought about was alcohol and drugs, myself, and nothing else. I lost myself in alcohol and drugs. I thought I knew who I was and where I was going in life. I really did. Little did I know, I hated myself and everything around me. I was angry, tired, lonely, frustrated. I spent many years thinking I was happy and having fun when in reality I was miserable and fed up with life. I didn’t know I was unhappy. I didn’t know I had anxiety.

I didn’t know I was living my life in complete fear until three months ago.

Today, I do know that I’ve been living in fear. Today I get to move forward with faith that a power greater than me has created me and given me the chance to have gratitude today. I have faith today, not fear (that’s a lie, I still have fear a lot of the times). I am starting to believe in myself, take myself seriously. This is my way to discovering myself. I hope that we can do that together as I venture on through this journey of blog writing. If you would have told me two months ago that people would be reading a blog that I wrote, I would have laughed in your face. I’m not good enough to write a blog. I’m not good enough to be read about. I finally stopped lying to myself.

So here I am, all of me.