Victims

I hate the word victim. I hate people who play the victim. It was no way my itent to write this blog and imply that I have been or ever will be a victim. The only common denominator in every single one of my issues is me. That is how it has always been. In no way do I blame either my birthparents or my adoptive parents for anything that has gone wrong in my life. The real reason I am writing this is because I wanted to share my story in hopes that somewhere someone might read it and say, "Wow, I am not alone anymore."
All of my parents are wonderful people. They all have their flaws but who doesn't? I love them all dearly and in no way shape or form do I hold resentment towards any of them. In my sick humor way, all that has happened, besides all that I have done to my parents, I see as pretty damn funny.
So, I am not sure where I left off but I don't really feel like writing about my past as muich as I want to write about what happens to grown up Shelley so I will catch us up quickly.
After treatment #1 I went to jail. After treatment #2 I moved in with a roommate from the treatment center. It was probably one of the worst decisions of my life. I went to jail in Oklahoma City for trying to rob a store with a pocket knife. High on whatever I could get my hands on, (I remember the drug dealer taking a check for valiuma nd meth) had led me to make the second worst decision of my life. It was December 15 and I would spend the next year within the confines of the Oklahoma Department of Corrections. I was eventually sentenced to boot camp. I excelled there and realized if I could get through that, I could get through anything. Jail and prison are one of the most interesting landscapes to watch people and is probably what rove me to get my degree in Sociology. I never kept touch much with the people I met briefly accept for mhy old using pal's Mother. She saved my life and I loved her very much. I was a surrogate child of hers for more than a decade.
Jail sucks. That is pretty much it accept the race thing that just confused me. It seems like you have to be racist in jail. Im not racist. Actually, that is not true. I m prejudice agaist ignorance and it comes in all skintones. There was one white trash woman in prison that smuggled in ober an 8 ball of meth. She didn't leave her cell without a collard gren mask she felt was necessary for her to wear for some reason. I had to spend time in the medical/psychiactric pod for a few months. That was a much needed place for a nervous breakdown and I did it up. Never has my mind been stuck with itself for so long that I could feel it coming to the break of reality. Some of the letters I wrote must have been interesting. I was the youngest by far and there were a lot of scary women in there. They all had nickames like Chocolate, Sissy, Nay-nay, and other creative nomenclatures for eachother. Mine was ROshell. "Come here ROshell." People don't care about you and I can see how Women doing a lot of time have to form surrogate families to survive unlike our male counterparts that seem to handle things differently in prison.
I was done with boot camp and after I got out I remember all I wanted to do was rub my feet in the grass, smell fresh air and eat a steak. I was then supposed to go to a state treatment facility where I proceeded to relapse after 1 year of sobriety. Becasue no one can prove to me that everything in life doesn't happen for a reason, I didn't die and I ended up wanting sobriety at last and on March 3rd 1998 after trying to take myself out with a "hot shot" of meth, I had the cliche "spiritual awakening." Mine involved the release of Madonna's new CD "Ray of Light." The song Frozen spoke to me through the TV and I realized I needed to at least try and give life a shot. Probation could have put me back in prison but I lucked out and ended up living on my brothers couch in a treatment program located in Tempi, AZ. My old roommate from OKC went to this programs sister program and her Mother suggested I go to the same one because it had really helped her daughter. That leaves me at age 19 and the strt of my time spent on what some people refer to as a cult but...it was some of teh best times in my life up to that point.