Love, Justine

Back to 2017–When I got remanded to the Potter County Women’s Recovery Center for one year for two nanograms of THC in my urine.

August 21st, 2017

Monday

Day 47

I want my kids near me so much it just hurts all of the time. 

All the time. 

Every second.

People talk a lot here about withdrawing from drugs–do it one day, one hour, one minute, one second…at a time.

That’s how I feel about withdrawal from my children. All of them. All of the time. Forever and ever.

4pm

Back in the car after my therapy appointment. Going  to the GI (liver) doctor this time. My therapist says that when things get really bad, I should just focus on the beauty in small things.

The solar eclipse was cool. The world sort of dimmed for a minute. 

Neat.

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck!!!!! I forgot to make my phone call!! Shit!!

Freya’s been a real jerk lately to me, which is weird, because I don’t even talk to her. Like today, I was telling somebody else about my therapist appointment, and as soon as the word “therapist” came out of my mouth, she jumped in with, “Oh, did your Mommy have to hold your hand for that?” I just looked at her for a second with my brows crossed in sort of a, “Like, what are you, TWO?!” look, and then finished my story, not even looking at her. Like–I wasn’t even talking to you, bitch!! I find that people like her are either sociopaths or in reality, even if they exude confidence and are always quick with a snappy retort, they actually hate themselves inside. That’s terrible. I feel bad for her. Been there. Just MEAN. Nasty mean to everybody. 

My father told me that they did successfully enroll the boys in Head Start. It’s ironic to me–my mother’s been an elementary school teacher for almost 30 years, and is now a reading specialist, but she won’t teach them their ABCs. 

Like–what the fuck.

It’s probably because she’s not getting paid to. Speaking of money, I’m shocked that they got in at all, because the program is income-based, and I’m sure my mother would sooner die than spend one cent that she didn’t absolutely HAVE to on her worthless crackhead (or drunk or whatever she calls me) daughter.