Bad Girls Don't Cry

Chapter 20 -Conclusion

I didn't last too long at that company in the end. I got bored pretty quickly. I always needed something exciting; something that would get me thinking for myself. I did happen to meet someone there that I became close friends with who just so happened to have gone through turmoil of her own and became a kind of spiritual guru for me. She taught me so many things. In fact, much of my ruminating throughout this book was thanks to her. She questioned everything I said and did. I was often annoyed with her for it, but I think it was honestly the best thing for me. It's certainly not for everyone, but for those who are open to hearing other perspectives, it really does wonders.

I spoke with her every week. Each time we spoke, old feelings resurfaced and I was forced to come face to face with some of the worst moments of my life. I cried a lot and was often depressed, but I persevered. I remember her telling me that once you open the door to the journey of self love, there is no turning back. And she was absolutely right. In order to find it, though, it takes facing the scariest and worst parts of yourself, and sitting in that mess until it begins to make sense. So that's what I did. Week after week I sat in my shit and I contemplated all the reasons behind my actions, deliberated about others' actions, and tried to make sense of a mix of cloudy emotions. It's important not to run away from those negative thoughts or memories. Running away from something that will always be with you is impossible. Sometimes we can repress things enough that they seem to be gone forever, until one day they rear their ugly heads and we are forced to see the reality of it.

Suffering is inevitable, and is worsened when trying to avoid it. It's like one of those Chinese finger traps; the more you pull your fingers away from one another the tighter it becomes. But, if you bring your fingers closer together, the trap loosens up and your fingers can go free. Pain and suffering works in much the same way. You can't run away from it. I tried, many times, and each time I got bitchslapped by my past coming back to bite me in the ass.

One day, after nearly a year of talking with her, I stumbled upon a memory I had evidently repressed over 15 years earlier. It came shooting back to me during one of our talks and I felt it immediately lodge at the base of my throat. I couldn't believe I had managed to forget it; the abandoned memory that haunted my every decision over the course of the next 15 years or so.

I was 15 years old on a weekend retreat with a Jewish organization at a campground on a lake. It was Friday night and everyone was inside for the prayers. I, personally, never followed any religious doctrine so I snuck out with this boy, Aiden, who was around my age. He had a 1 liter bottle of clear booze with him and he invited me to go drink the bottle on the lake. I was very excited; this would be my first time being truly devious. I had had alcohol one time in a park with some friends of mine and I got sleepy after half a cup of diluted vodka-lemonade. I had always been the girl who would tell people drugs were bad and smoking was gross, and whatever else a good girl does (hard to believe now that you know me, huh... well it's true. I used to be a good girl... with a really bad attitude problem).

So I pranced excitedly onto the dock as the prayer chanting was echoing from the grand hall. The sun was setting and the sky was magnificent. Aiden had a couple lunch-boxed sized peach juice cartons that he added to the bottle to make it taste better as I looked out over the water.
"How strong is it?" I asked him as he shook the bottle to mix it.
"17%, the peach juice should dilute it, though," he replied.
"Ok," I nodded.
"Have you been drunk before?"
I shook my head.
"Ok, well you'll be fine. Here," he said as he handed me the bottle. "You start, drink half and I'll drink the other half."

I started chugging half the 1L bottle. I didn't want to give myself time to taste the liquor. I finished a good amount of my half and handed the bottle over to Aiden, panting heavily. It burned my throat and lungs so badly.