If you let it

Chapter Two: Boobles, my other half

"They'll teach you etiquette, isn't that wonderful?"My Nonnie sung out "What the heck is etiquette?" I mumbled ,with disinterest in the idea of a uniformed school. "they'll teach you how to be a polite young lady and which forks go where on the table." She exclaimed, still excited about my enrollment. "I can't wear this! it's ugly and uncomfortable!" I cried, tears running down my face. In the stall next to me I hear another girl arguing with her mom. I exit the fitting Room and I'm greeted by a woman who says she's a Spanish teacher at my new school. Her daughter Sandra and I exchanged a glance of shared agitation. "Professional dress Monday" was the topic of conversation for the next half hour. I throw my plaid wardrobe on the counter and dimly conversate with Sandra. I couldn't fathom wearing such a hideous outfit every Day.
         Those who knew me, knew I would never be caught dead in a skirt let alone a plaid atrocity. My closet knew only of crew collared Tshirts and basic Levi Jean's. Even my my underwear were boy shorts. I finished out my summer in my preference of clothing.
  My comfort came to and the end to summer meant a new school year. I'd been preparing myself for another one of my parents meaningless plots to make us more inviting to the eyes of the church. So many useless rules fueled by the mission to make us equal. All black shoes so we look the same, all clean cut hair so we look the same. When asked why they were so strict about the uniform I was assured it was to hide the fact that some kids cant afford name brand clothes or backpacks and uniforms were a way to unify us . Ironic, thing is the only all black shoes or backpacks you could find were Van's and Jan sport. Not exactly affordable for us in the lower paid bracket. Everything about this school sucked as much as I imagined it would suck. Until it didn't.
I had made a friend. A great friend. We were inseparable. I can't recall exactly how our friendship came about but we were two halves in a whole. Amanda, or boobles, ( Don't ask, a misfortunate mispronunciation on behalf of my fly pen) didn't reject me or my family's dysfunction. In fact she could relate to the chaos of a broken family and furthermore relate to the struggles of being a child of an alcoholic. Our similar understanding of troubled home life wasn't my 1st choice of things that would bring us together, but it did. We spent most of our days gosssiping and sharing unfortunate stories of our parents. We ate our weight in baked hot cheetos and Otis spunkmeyer cookies. We made eachother playlist of our favorite emo bands when we weren't at her grandmas house we cruised the mall or roamed the parks.  But at the end of the day we both went back to our less than happy homes. at school we knew each other schedules and shared classes and breaks. Teachers who were familiar with our friendship were quick and smart to separate us when we shared a class together.
Our worlds intertwined and most of the time we were unaware of the world around us. Or at least I was. She was there for my 1st crush and encouraged me to tell him but I couldn't. I was so embarrassed and I couldn't begin to imagine what a healthy relationship would even look like. But when I did open up to that boy, she was there. And when I was nervous for my first kiss she offered tips. When I smooshed noses with said boy while attempting said first kiss, she introduced the technique of turning heads . And when that boy broke my heart she may have actually offered to kill him. I cant recall a time she wasn't able to solve my problems for me.  She taught me how to put on eyeliner and how confidence was sexy. She taught me things a mom or sister would teach me. It was nice having unwavering support. I began to feel as if my life meant something. I meant something to someone. So I was ,justifiably,  devastated when we had our 1st fight right before my 1st school dance. Crying to my mom while I slipped on my bright green dress she responded with "good friends fight and fall apart but best friends fight and fall together." I can't even remember what we fought about. Probably nothing. At this time we were basically sisters so maybe we were just easily provoked. As I stared out the window, watching the city pass by, I remember composing scenarios on how to win her back. Nothing seemed to click. As my school came into view my mom handed me money for food. In the distance I see Amanda talking to a mutual friend. Butterflies in my stomach and face hot and flushed, I approach her still unable to piece together anything meaningful to say. But to my surprise she hugs me and compliments me as if nothing happened. Our friendship was effortlessly restored. I had never been showed unconditional companionship before this. This meant a lot to me I wasn't ready to be alone in life again. I had so much love and admiration for this girl!
          We struggled together, we cried together, and we laughed together. She helped me through my 1st relationship and my 1st break up . We grew together and shared all aspects of our life with each other. She wasn't afraid to get in trouble with me. I remember running to the girls restroom in between one of our classes one day. She pulls out bright pink hair dye. Without hesitation and in a hurry we glob the die on our Hair, unbeknownst to us that a teacher had seen us sneak into the restroom. We'd been caught. I don't know what we were thinking coloring our hair at school. Colored hair wasn't even allowed at our school. We would do anything the other wanted regardless of consequence. Almost as if to replace the attention we lacked at home. Just kids coping the best we could.
         We were escorted to the office as we sit while our parents are notified of our suspension. In the past I'd feared repercussions of my actions. But in this instance I felt close to my best friend. We were in this together. Invincible. The one thing they couldn't take from me . Or so I thought. What would be the most painful and harshest punishments in my eyes. I was banned from interacting with Amanda.
My parents insinuated that me acting out was a gesture of bad influence on Amanda's part. The school was notified and we were patrolled daily. I had felt like I lost everything. I decided I wouldn't' Oblige easily to my parents' wishes. I fiercely yearned for the friendship I had built with Amanda. I learned to lie. An attribute frowned upon by the church. I didn't care. The connection I had with her was one I never experienced before. I earned this . she was my tiny speck of light In a life of obscurity.
The 1st time I saw Her behind my parents back I was scared to get caught. But as time went on it got easier and my lies became more feasible. I learned to cover my tracks and mesh together lies for my benefit.       
         Our secret friendship became fluid again. Until one ill fated mistake would bring my intricate ball of lies to light causing us to be separated again. See, Amanda's dad knew she had been at my house that day  however, he was unaware we were forbidden to see each other. My parents work schedule made it possible for us to hang after school before they got home. Her dad had been trying to reach her and while she was on her way home he called and left a message on my home phone. Which my mom intercepted. we'd been caught. Again.
        It wasn't fair that my parents stole any scrap of happiness I formed. I had other acquaintances but none that made me feel whole like Amanda did. At the time I wouldn't dare to admit the suicidal thoughts Amanda had unknowingly saved me from. She was part of my being. Without her began my give no f**** Demeanor.
        Anew, I would see the inequity of life. I didn't care anymore. I wouldn't save face. I walked the path of desolation and destruction. Suspension became so frequent I was eventually expelled for my actions. Not long after starting my new school I fell in with the wrong crowd. A week after coming back from Christmas vacation another student came near me advertising an unidentifiable little pill. Up until then I had lived a veiled life Knowing little about sex or drugs.
       Demonstrating my no fucks attitude, I took the pill no questions asked. This account documents the beginning to a very risk fueled year of my life. I began to feel euphoric not too long after taking the pill. The first time I've felt comfort in as long as I can remember. So much warmth and confidence. The feeling of being hugged by warmth and surrounded by light and a simple touch made your heart fill with love. I sat in content until the short lasting effects of ecstasy were off. Just like that I was hooked. I had  found a way to cope. A way to put my pain on hold. "rolling" was a daily task for me now. I looked forward to stepping foot on school grounds away from my parents so I could ingest my savior. All my time money and anxieties went into this habit. I cant remember my junior year. Other than brief friendships amongst fellow "thizzers" and the union of me and high school sweetheart who'll remain anonymous.
         I cut classes and school because I just wasnt invested in anything other than the chase of euphoria. One day a friend and I had taken a few pills at the movies. I remember feeling different this time. There was a split second I had known I'd taken more than I could handle . Soon I  was so far gone I was being  snuck out of the theater by an employee who offered me free popcorn and beverage to bring me back down to earth. He had feared for my wellbeing and pleaded with me to eat and drink as much as I could tolerate. My brain was so numb I hadn't realized id been chewing on my lip for an hour. I came down and immediately noticed the throbbing pain in my lip. Upon observation I see the mangled flesh of my lip. It was such a surreal thing to see. It's like those pictures off dogs who tried to eat a bee and soon after regretted it. Only  It was undeniably more gruesome and noticeable.
          The sun is setting and street lights begin to flicker on. I didn't know how I was going to explain to my mom how I got my fat lip. Unable to walk I was Carried miles to my house. I unlocked my front door full of apprehension. I make a break for my room but not before my mom stops me in the hall. Both of us like dear in head lights stare at each other for a moment then proceed to our rooms with no exchange of words.   
          She had been blitzed on wine and didn't even notice my lip. Instead focusing her attention on trying to appear not drunk to me.
My lip was so bad. The following morning once me and my mom were both sober. She cant believe the sight of my lip. Quick on my feet I offer the excuse that while catching for my sister the ball tipped my glove and busted my lip. With my dedication to softball and it being a passion my sister and I shared she bought it and welcomed me for a hug and an ice pack. Though this was a scary experience for me it didn't deter me from continuing my use. I would continue to escape my reality again and again. I popped pills in class. I popped pills at home. At one point I was on ecstasy on stage during a school play .I'd been really good at hiding my use.
One night my phone died and I missed curfew. My mom, upset with me, finally got ahold of me and kicked me out of the house. I want to shocked or concerned, my mom had a new boyfriend which meant our relationship was on the back burner. My wants needs and longing for emotional support were not first priority. Not offered many choices, My boyfriends mom allowed me to stay there for the weekend to give my mom time to cool down. The weekend turned into two weekends then into a month and so on until I had been there about a year. I had been  home and wanted to take a trip. I couldnt get ahold of my usual guy so I found another way.  Purchasing from an unknown dealer was a risk I didn't a knowledge at the time. I swallowed the pill. Something was off. I felt sick. My head felt heavy and my heart felt weak. In a panic I beg my boyfriend to turn on the light. Confused he informs me the lights are on. I couldn't see anything. He thinks I'm joking and flashes the light on and off. I'm totally paranoid and riddled with fear. My eyesight is gone. We spent the next hour or so unsure of what to do and eventually I pass out fatigued beyond belief. I wake up to excruciating nausea and dizziness. I can see! I rejoiced in my restored eyesight just before stumbling to the bathroom joining my face to the cold toilet seat and throwing up. In that shameful moment I knew I was done. That was my wake up call. I'm grateful I didn't struggle to quit. I was able to quit cold turkey with no debilitating side effects or cravings. I consider this one of my lowest points. The months to follow I wish I could say I chose sobriety but I just traded in ecstasy for weed.
That summer my boyfriend and I walked the streets of our city smoking blunts, eating junk food and blowing where the wind took us. We lived a live of no responsibility or direction. It was no secret that his mom had become so dissatisfied with our lowlife behavior she kicked us out. We were lucky enough to find shelter with one of his friends. Though that situation was short lived as well. During the few weeks we were there we smoked, we ate and we had reckless sex. Our irresponsible tendencies led to me falling pregnant. I should have been terrified. I wasnt in the right mind to carry or care for a baby. In an attempt to paint a picture for you portraying just how far I was from being ready for motherhood I'm going to share the name we had picked out for this poor baby if it was a girl. We thought our daughter would have the coolest name ever. First name Mari middle name Juana . The lord himself gasped in shock.
My pregnancy with the potential Mari Juana unfortunately but with in good timing ended in a miscarriage. One of the most emotionally and physically painful experiences in my life. I sat in a hot shower understandably upset by losing my baby. Bright red water swirled down the drain for what seemed like forever. I got high. I slept the next day away until my appointment with my OB. Naked from the waist down, legs pinned in stirrups, my Dr fights me to drop my tightly hinged knees so he could determine weather intervention to fully "expell" my baby would be necessary. I had the option to "labor" at home or be admitted for hospital intervention. I continued the loss at home.