Imagine meeting this person and it’s like God had created them just for you. Like your life is now complete and you’ve met your soulmate and you start to picture life years down the road and this person makes you feel invincible. It’s like this person was created just for you and WOW it feels indescribably incredible
Then months of maybe years down the line they start making you feel like you’re doing something wrong, like your a problem. Ever so subtly. You’re not sure what you did wrong because they’re not communicating with you properly and when they do communicate they tell you if you didn’t do this I wouldn’t be upset with you
Then you, being a sweet compassionate person, take that into account and think yourself WOW maybe if I didn’t do abc then he wouldn’t be so upset with me. So then you go as far the fuck out of your way as you see possible to make this person happy compromising your own self and losing sense of who you are strictly to make your partner happy.
You can’t wrap your brain around it but this person whom you love so dearly, YOUR FUCKING SOULMATE is going out of their way to make your life miserable and left feeling inadequate and then your left feeling angry and lonely because HOW could this person who just went from loving every single thing about you now despise everything about you. The one person who broke me, who made me feel less than worthless now becomes the one person who’s capable of fixing the damage because the only person I seek any type of validation from is the one hurting me.
But, it’s not always like that. Some days he brings me gimmers and echos of the life we once lived – happily ever after.
I’m frequently told to “move on”, or “get over it” when plagued with the grief I have of losing this man I loved more than life itself. This is not only ridiculous and inappropriate, it is also impossible. I’ve been abused and endured extreme trauma through the words and hands of Chris Willey. Do I think the man that I loved never existed? No. But, I do understand that he will never be and had never been the person I wanted and needed him to be and his memory can’t be flooded with false reality either. I have to live with knowing that my abuser will never be able to take responsibility for the pain he caused me, i’ll never receive closure.
I find it hard to heal from my abuse I think mainly because I was so intensely betrayed by someone I intimately trusted and I felt defenseless against him more times than I can count that I repressed my pain but I was repeatedly triggered.
“We, in essence, have to heal and grieve from multiple doses of betrayal and the accompanying toxic shame and self-loathing and exaggerated feelings of powerlessness and hopelessness.”
I don’t trust anymore. I don’t let anyone get to close, but at the same time I’m completely open and almost emotionless when it comes to talking about certain things that have happened to me. And some things I can’t even get myself to talk about because the pain from it’s memory is too overwhelming.

I miss Chris. I miss his touch, his smell, his energy and his spirit but I don’t miss his hateful words, his anger, his hate for himself and seeing him sick. Because God knows he was sick. He was conflicted about so many things about himself that no one ever knew about. He hated himself, he hated drugs, he hated hurting me and being hurt by me. Because I did have a part to play in with the pain caused in our relationship.

Today though, today I feel better. I smile more even though I can’t stand seeing my smile in the mirror. I miss Chris but I’m moving forward in life now. I strive to become someone he would have loved more and been proud of because I still seek validation from him, even in afterlife

My mom picked me up from the front door of Acts Keystone. I had all my bags packed and I was carrying everything I owned. Luckily for me, in my possessions was a brand new disposable vape that I bought just a few hours before checking myself into detox. I was beyond ecstatic. I had written Chris a letter and sent it to his grandfather’s bike shop so that when I got out I’d be able to speak to him.

As soon as I got my new phone I was able to look up Chris on it and get ahold of him. I told him all about the spiritual change within myself, how I was absent of all cravings and that I decided what I wanted to do with my life and what steps I’d need to take in order to achieve my goals.

My intention was to inspire him and it worked. He was sleeping on his grandpa’s boat which was parked at the bike shop in Salisbury. He had just lost his job at Chipotle and his run there seemed to be coming to an end.

I kept in contact and before I knew it he was calling to tell me he had decided to check himself into a 28-30 day rehab and that I wouldn’t be hearing from him very much because he was only allowed one phone call per week. We made a plan to both carry out our treatment and in 6 months time we’d make our way back to one another.

My mom brought me back to her studio apartment where she set up a little spot for me in her Dining Room and she made the living room into her bedroom. I had just enough space for my clothes and the very few personal belongings I owned which was dwindled down to almost nothing after Chris threw it all in the ocean.

It was a cute little cottage for the two of us to share.

The very day I got out of rehab I made sure to attend my first meeting outside of an institution. I chose to attend an AA group called 4th Dimension which had a few people I knew from my running around days attend and guest speak while I was in rehab. Statistics show that the odds of maintaining sobriety skyrocket if you attend a meeting the same day so in order to increase my odds of survival I attended a meeting.

There was a specific woman around my age that frequently spoke at Acts Keystone from this meeting and I wasted no time in asking her to be my sponsor. I called her before heading to the meeting and she had already saved me a seat right in front of the stage but she drove me home after we went out to eat as a fellowship. It was a really good experience.

My first day of freedom was a start in the right direction. I was motivated, I had drive. My determination had me one step ahead of the game. I went to a meeting every single day for a while there. I wanted to do the 90 in 90!

Through my sponsor family I was referred to a job at a call center in Tarpon Springs via a temp agency called Pride Staffing. Clean Sky Energy was a call center that sold deregulated energy from renewable energy certificates to residential customers in the states that allow you to chose your own supplier. Boring stuff, truly.

That first month went by in the blink of an eye and I was killing it! I was waking up early and taking the bus to work and after work I’d get off at 19 and Main St and hit up the 6pm Survivor’s meeting, dinner then bed. I hated my job but I was starting to become happier.

One day, on my lunch break I received a phone call from Chris. We had a very serious, yet relaxed conversation about what we truly wanted out of life and I was as honest as I could have been when I told him I wasn’t sure what I wanted from him romantically anymore. At that time in my life I had no idea how Chris could fit back into the picture. I was sober, I was happy, I was planning on starting college soon, I was making friends and I really didn’t want to leave Florida.

He was so relieved. Apparently while in rehab he had met someone, she happened to be his counselor. He fell for her pretty hard, too and he wanted to explore his options with her.

I dropped at the news of him liking someone else. Someone who wasn’t me. Instantly, I wished I could take it all back. I would do anything to be with Chris, wouldn’t I?

I’d call Chris everyday from that day forward. But, he was pushing away from me. I held my head up strong because more than anything I wanted Chris to be free from the torment that our relationship was for him. I wanted him to be free to find himself and to be genuinely happy. I had to admit that I wasn’t doing that for him anymore but I was too selfish to write him out of my life.

So, as his best friend and he mine, I allowed him to tell me about his dating life. I let him get excited when he told me that he got hit on all the time and that he’s starting to date and I was so very jealous but I was also so happy for him. I could hear it in his voice he was doing better. Rehab was good for him and sober living is doing good for him, too.

I tried to let myself move on, too. I went out with friends from AA, and I even started casually dating but found myself constantly comparing my dates to Chris and no one could ever live up to those kinds of high expectations.

Over in Maryland, Chris was riding that pink cloud. He was handsome, charismatic, chivalrous and funny. People, especially the ladies, took a notice to him. His self esteem was higher than it had been in years. He landed a job at Boscov’s in the mall and started dating a girl that he worked with.

I told him I was happy for him, I told him he could tell me anything because first and foremost he will always be my best friend. I told him lies about how I was doing because I wasn’t holding up quite as well as i would have hoped for. Truth be told, I was extremely jealous, heartbroken and struggling to maintain my sobriety.

I was working the steps but I wasn’t using the numbers or reaching out to my sponsor when I should have been. Honestly, I was feeling a bit depressed and I just really missed my husband. My best friend.

I longed for the nights we’d spend talking on the phone all night. Those phone calls would give me hope, I’d dream about the day he would return back to me after realizing no one could ever compare to me. Until then, I found myself enjoying listening to the new and improved hyped up version of Chris.

This Chris, this sober and motivated and inspiring version of himself that I’ve been longing to see since realizing he was an addict all those years ago.

If Chris being this happy meant me not being his wife anymore then I’m not going to be his wife anymore. He was practically glowing through the telephone, beaming! The realization of Chris’ happiness set me up for my relapse.

I made it 110 days. I got ahold of Nessa whom at this point is completely strung out on fentanyl and meth and I have her help me get a $20 sack of meth.

The thing about meth is that it’s predictable for me. I use, hyper focus on a task, clean the whole house and maybe afterwards I’ll write or color. Using while living with my mom meant that I had to consume the drugs very sparingly so she didn’t notice a difference in my actions. I had to make sure she never found out.

But, when high on meth you don’t sleep. So I’d sit on my bed in the pitch black of night using my cellphones flashlight to color or write until the sun came up.

Another side effect of meth use is hyper sexuality so some nights I’d also be sneaking out to have sex then sneak back in.

I started a new routine. I’d use once a month, stay clean for a month and get my 30 day chip then use again and I did this until May.

In May I started dating this guy I met in detox named Jacob. I slept with him a few times then asked if he wanted to date and then after day 4 he was telling me he loved me and so I had to break up with him. The aftermath to that was he threatened to burn down my little cottage.

After Jacob happened I decided I wanted to get back on that pink cloud like Chris was. I wanted to seriously sign up for college for addiction studies in the fall. I was having long, meaningful conversations with Chris about what we wanted to do with our lives. Mine was to help trauma and substance abuse victims find healing because ultimately healing is what I want for myself and everyone else too.

Chris wanted a similar career path as mine but what he really wanted to do was create music. He had apparently already started writing raps. He was chuck full of surprises.

In order to go to school for addiction studies so that I could possibly get a job as a BHT (behavioral health technician) at a treatment center, staying in school and working my way up to a degree as a counselor I’d need to stay 100% clean.

I also needed to start practicing honesty. So I sat my mom down and admitted to her that I relapsed and needed to go back to detox and into a sober living house. So that’s what I did.

I left my job at Clean Sky Energy in Tarpon and checked myself in at BayCare. And who do I see in the assigned bed next to mine other than Caelon motherfucking Faulkner! My bunker from rehab. Turns out she recently OD’d on fentanyl at her sober living house and they brought her here instead of kicking her out.

Before I admitted myself into detox I took a bump of a 30mg oxy so I’d be able to fail for opiates and be able to receive funding to get me into a sober living program.

Upon discharge from BayCare detox, I caught an Uber to the sober living house. It was the same house that Caelon was staying at. I was put on a two week restriction but somehow managed to convince the house manager to let me and Caelon go shopping at Walmart.

I wasn’t there a week when Caelon convinced me to come with her to get some fentanyl and we left to get some a few days later and then a few days after that and not once did someone question us about where we were or where our bags from Walmart disappeared to.

On June 3rd, one of the more rainy days Caelon and I decided to walk to Fox Hollow from Ridge and 19 to cop some dope. After she got it, we both snorted a bump and then immediately lost the bag of dope so we proceeded to look for it for a good 15-20 minutes. Finally, we gave up trying to locate it and started walking towards 19.

That was the very last thing I remember I was waking up in the back of an ambulance. I had overdosed on fentanyl.

Crying, embarrassed and slightly in shock, I managed to regain my composure long enough to refuse being transported to the hospital and had them release me back onto the side of the road. Raining, they let me go and Caelon and I made for US 19 so we could catch a bus back to our sober living house.

I cried all the way to 19, my clothes were soaked through and through from the rain. We got on the bus back to sober living.

I visited my mother just a few short days later and she informed me that she had already known about my drug overdose because she received a phone call from the hospital. I forgot when I signed up for the Core Program through BayCare that I opted to have my mom called with any and all information. I guess I just didn’t expect them to call about that.

We both agreed that I was doing better with my sobriety living with her than I was in sober living. I stayed the night at her house the. I picked up the rest of my belongings the next day.

Chris and I were dabbling with the idea of getting back together. Chris had a few stipulations for me. He wanted me back but he wanted me better first and foremost. So, I was to take a bus to Salisbury and go into rehab and into sober living and once the two of us reached 6 months of sobriety then we figured we’d be ready for each other. I was elated!

In order to get me to Salisbury I decided to try one more “junkie mentality “ things. I took my mother’s tax documents and I filed for her taxes – claiming myself. I was supposed to get nearly Two Thousand dollars back. I fully intended on using that money to fun my trip to Maryland and perhaps get some new teeth.

On June 8th 2023 I would receive my very last text message from Chris. He told me to have a good meeting and texted me a picture of a tasty cake.

On June 12th 2023 my sister and her family came over to my moms to celebrate my birthday with a little kayaking trip. I fully intended to buy my ticket to Salisbury that day. My mom, sister and I were passing around a joint when I got the phone call.

Malinda called my moms phone and asked for me, which already I thought was super strange because my mom and Malinda did not talk. She was crying, and she told me Chris had gotten high and they were taking him away in an ambulance. I didn’t know what to say, I was honestly relieved for a short few seconds. Relieved to hear that Chris was alive.

But, he wasn’t. “No, Allie.” Malinda spoke slowly, “they are taking him to the morgue.”

I was literally puffing on a joint as her words crashed violently against my eardrums. My face fell, my entire demeanor changed. I sat in shock for a small eternity. I honestly don’t even remember the rest of the phone call. Tears streamed down my cheeks – wet and hot.

My heart immediately started pounding out of my chest. The very worst thing that I could have ever imagined happened has happened. My entire world crashed down all around me..

My mom picked me up almost immediately after Chris had left and we drove to my dads house 3 hours away in a small town called Crescent City. My dad had a small plot of land with a single wide trailer on it as well as the 5th wheel that my sister and her family lived in.

There was a lot going on for the two or three days that I was there. I tried my best to be as festive as I possibly could, at least for my Nephew Axle, but I just didn’t have the energy for it.

I spent most of my time catching up on sleep in the back bedroom in my sister’s RV and I ate. I ate like I hadn’t seen food in ages. Granted, the traditional meal cooked on Thanksgiving and Christmas happened to be my favorite dishes to speak of.

I sat my whole family down at one point during my stay and I apologized for my most recent fuckery when I came back from Seattle. I told them about my plans to go to detox so that they can get me into a rehab and after rehab I would be going into sober living. I told them I was finally done with my life of drug use and addiction and I was ready to heal.

Then the question they had all been waiting for me to answer: Was I going to go back to Chris? Of course, I had every intention of going back to Chris but for the sake of my family I decided to lie. I said I had no intentions to ever speak to him again. I said whatever needed to be said in order for the subject to be changed.

On the way back to Pasco County my mom stops by the BayCare Harbor in Port Richey and I get out of the car with all my bags and I rang the doorbell at the front entrance of the detox facility.

They let me right in the door and I gave my mom a hug and a kiss goodbye.

This was a huge step for me… admitting I needed help and actually going out to seek it on my own. All by myself.

I hardly remember detox. I did happen to meet two very nice gentleman while I was there – Stephen and Jacob. I gave them both my contact information for when I got out of rehab they could hit me up.

I spent 5 long days in detox. But, it was just the amount of time needed to facilitate me going to a rehab center. I was accepted at two different facilities. One was the Phoenix House in the Ocala area and the other one was called Acts Keystone which was much closer in Tarpon Springs. I chose Acts.

On December 30th of 2022 BayCare had placed me in my Uber and sent me to my very first rehabilitation center. It was a 90 day program and I had every intention of staying the entire duration of that time. Phone calls would be made once a week to one number only, computer use was prohibited and there was no smoking (or vaping) allowed.

I brought everything I owned with me and luckily for me my amazing mother had my back and bought me a small AM/FM radio, my own pillow and blanket, and I was allowed to have my gel pens.

At admission, they took my belongings and put them inside a heat treated bag that was meant to kill off bedbugs or any other germs. I met a girl in my intake who was also just arriving and her name was Caelon (Kay-Lynn). Caelon was roughly the same age as me with a fentanyl and meth addiction and she had just moved to Florida in the previous years from St. Louis MO.

We hit it off really quickly and to our surprise they decided to make us bunkies in dorm number 2. I met a lot of people while in rehab but the ones who stood out the most were Caelon, Kayla, and Allyson. Kayla and Allyson had been in treatment together for a while, having waited on a bed to open up while having to sit in a jail cell, they arrived at Acts together too.

The very first thing I found to complain about was the food. Who cares that the food was borderline uneatable but the portion sizes were for toddlers. I couldn’t order my restricted diet because if I did I’d have to eat nothing but a salad for 90 whole days and I don’t think I could have handled that.

But, men ran the kitchen so there wasn’t anything we could do about it.

I dove right into my recovery as soon as I got there. It took a minute to transition from the holiday schedule and Covid outbreak that happened before I got there but once we got back on schedule and they figured out which therapist they were going to assign me I made sure to complete the Phase A packet and start working on my step work.

The schedule for rehab looked a little like this:

730 Breakfast

800 clean

900 roll call/stretch/walk

10-12 groups

12-1 lunch

1-3 groups

4-5 free time

5-6 dinner

Doors to outside closed at dusk

615 coffee

7-8 AA/NA

As far as the curriculum was concerned, I was a rock star! Apparent not very many clients bother with doing the step work because you can’t really get a sponsor while in rehab and they don’t want to do step work without one. I was blowing through a step every week. I tried to be an overachiever and finish my Phase packets ahead of schedule but they only accept the packets every 30 days.

Caelon and Kayla got voted into the kitchen with me as a back up which quickly turned into me taking Kayla’s spot because she sucked at waking up in the morning.

A new girl came into Acts right around the same time we got voted into the kitchen. Her name is Amanda and she was an adorable southern bell.

It started off with just me and Kayla going out into the tall grass field after dinner and laying down to watch the waves in the sunset or to catch a group of deer frolicking at the base of the woods. Then, after sharing with them the magic we seemed to always share together soon it was me, Kayla, Caelon and Amanda every day after dinner just laughing, listening to music and telling each other stories of our life.

Those girls got me through rehab like they wouldn’t believe. I don’t know what I’d have done without those stress relieving magical nights sitting in the tall grass with my best friends. KEYSTONE KILLERS!

I tried my very first red meat burger while I was in rehab and I absolutely fell in love with burgers from that day forward.

There was a man at Keystone, his name was Michael or Big Mike for he was like 6’5. He practiced witchcraft and he had a very intense yet powerful outlook on recovery. He let me borrow a book that belonged to him called “The Power Of Now” which was all about living in the present moment and nothing else. But, not in the sense that you can set goals for yourself because that’s just preposterous. Living in the Now is more of a mentality than anything. It was an incredible book.

Big Mike frequently would lead the meetings for AA or NA whenever our guest speakers wouldn’t show up. He was very insightful and there was more than one occasion I sat with him to pick his brain about how he thought I could heal from my trauma.

I cried a lot in rehab. Actually, when I had first got there they had put me on a prescription for Wellbutrin and it took just about all of me not to kill myself right there. My depression got so bad that I actually handed in my razors to the BHTs. I immediately stopped taking my meds and talked to the psych doctor about switching my meds and he put me on Abilify, remeron and a low dose anti anxiety medication which ended up working much better for me.

By the time I was halfway through, I was over being there. I was able to get in contact with Chris’ mom while there and she informed me he had made it to Maryland and wanted to file for divorce. He wasn’t coming up off of his phone number for me. The entire time I was there I had this gut wrenching feeling that he may overdose while we were apart. I knew from his mom that he had made it to Baltimore and from there his grandfather bought him a ticket to Salisbury.

I knew he was with his family but I also knew that was prime opiate stomping grounds and I was worried.

My teeth started giving me a lot of trouble while in rehab so I scheduled a day to go to the dentist. At Dr. Monticello’s office I had 5 teeth pulled.

By day 50 I had enough of rehab and checked myself out.

I lay in bed tonight reflecting on the year as a whole. I started off the year desperate, scared and determined to get clean and recover. I spent the first two months fully dedicated and in rehab learning how to defend myself against my addiction. I struggled the entire year, battling with my mind over the matter and failing quite frequently. I hate to admit I still struggle with using uppers, but I’ve been free of Al downers and opiates since June 3rd.

Then June came along and I lost Chris and I lost myself for a while there too. Months went by where I was literally neck and neck with my demon and I had to figure out how to overcome. I used my loss and my grief to fuel me and motivate me to stay clean even more.

I drowned my sorrows with a multitude of sexual acts with strangers. One specific one led me to meet Dakota. I met Dakota in August and we hit it off pretty quickly. He was handsome, shy yet outgoing and just different.

He took my focus off of my grief almost instantly, it’s like I couldn’t even focus on being sad for much too long and he’d take all that pain away.

Since moving to Missouri with him in the end of November things have changed some more. That shy, handsome guy I met in August became someone new and I’m adapting to changes I never thought I’d experience.

I only hope that this next year brings me a joy I haven’t felt in years

On August 18 after sleeping outside all night on the ocean shore I took a freebie ride to the Burger King and put myself on the greyhound bus to Spring Hill. I was doing exceptionally well too.

I had cut off communication with Chris except when inquiring about how Chewie was doing and I applied to a plethora of jobs and before I knew it I landed 2 jobs! One was at a call center doing political surveys and the other was at Vapor Emporium selling smoke shop items.

I was clean, saving money and even started gaining a little weight back. I was becoming happier. I had a few one night stands while on my sabbatical, but nothing that really stood out.

I wasn’t gone but a month when Chris called me about Chewie. He did it when I was on the boat too but apparently he’d been jumping off the boat and swimming to shore, which was about a quarter mile, more frequently and this one couple who lived close by continuously found him and were threatening to take him if something didn’t change.

So we took the 6.5 hour one way trip and I was able to bring Chewie home to his momma where he belonged.

While in Islamorada Chris, barefooted and looking rough as hell asked us to drive him down the road so he could score some crack cocaine. I was happy to be getting back in that car and driving back to Spring Hill without him.

But then sometime in October Chris decided he missed me and so he started texting me and over the period of maybe just a few days I was desperate to be reunited with him.

You’d think after all we’ve put one another through that we’d both want to stay as far the fuck away from each other as we possible could but that was not the case with us. We defined the word inseparable in every way. You truly cannot help who you fall in love with and I know this because more than anything I wanted to tell Chris to go fuck himself.

By the time Chris was ready to come down I have saved a few hundred dollars. I told Michael I was leaving and he helped me buy a tent and supplies so I was prepared. It was a week before Halloween when he got there and we picked him up from the greyhound station and Michael dropped us off in the woods on County Line Rd on the Hudson side to embark on my last adventure with Chris.

We set up the tent in the perfect location, secluded from everyone. It was behind 7-11, next to my phone job and in front of a set of apartments that had water spigots for bathing and a laundry facility. Michael let me borrow his cooler and we’d fill it up with water and leave it outside of the tent to take bird baths.

Chris brought the solar panel and the two fans from the boat so as far as homeless went, we were doing it in style.

That same week I was able to get Chris a job at the call center with me and I quit my job at the smoke shop due to lack of transportation.

For our anniversary and Chris’ birthday we took our first big paycheck which was the week after the elections and we took the bus to Port Richey and got ourselves a hotel for the night. We wasted no time getting ahold of Nessa and getting some drugs from her. Chris spent the entire evening on the cusp of having a really bad overdose so I stayed away from the opiates and just smoked my meth. It was one of the better nights we had spent together because when Chris shot up heroin he was the sweetest most loving man on the earth. We made love until the sun came up.

After that fun filled day at the hotel, it made us want to get high more often. I started panhandling again and then not before long we just stopped showing up for work and decided we made more money my way then working an actual job.

We were going into town once every other week to get high. Chris and I weren’t allowed back at Nessa’s drug dealers house because we had both overdosed there the time before that. Nessa stood us up one day and we met a new drug dealer driving a Cadillac in the 7-11 parking lot on Trouble Creek and 19; his name was Rooster.

When we weren’t buying off of Rooster we were buying off the other homeless man who panhandled near our campsite. Once every other week turned into once a week then most days a week. When we weren’t using meth or getting high on fetty then we were drinking kratom like it was sweet tea.

Michael and his girlfriend, Destiny, would take Chewie for us over the weekend to give us more time to fuck off and get high.

The thing is that this time getting high wasn’t fun for me, or him. Chris especially had some really bad side effects from our meth use. He’d be awake all night in the tent sitting up on his knees staring out into the night thinking someone was out there trying to get him. The police, teenagers, hobos and hoodlums – and he was ready to fight.

His paranoia and delusions about phone hacking came back into play almost immediately. He thought tree limbs were flying drones and that the police were hiding out in the woods waiting for us to come out or hit the bubble in front of them so they’d arrest us.

I’d try and spoon him to sleep but he’d be filled with the overwhelming need to stare out into the night. I’d try to sleep or fake sleep while we listened to Joe Rogan podcasts. I tried to reassure him that the police would not hide in the woods waiting for us they’d turn their flashlights on and approach the tent with their guns drawn out, unafraid.

By the time December rolled around we were both so exhausted from keeping up with our addiction and the side effects caused by using. Exhausted from always thinking we had to watch our backs, exhausted from walking to Walmart everyday to panhandle and to 7-11 to eat.

We took our paychecks one day and took the bus to Port Richey to get another hotel and feel out for the night. We met up with Nessa for a half of fet and a teener of meth and she actually ripped me off. The fet was real but the ice she gave me was powdered sugar so I spent the entire night just watching over Chris and making sure he didn’t fall out.

We’d argue here and there but honestly things between us were better than they had been in a while. We were staying sexually active, even spicing things up a bit in the bedroom by adding additional partners in the mix.

But come December after using regularly and walking up to the Walmart on 19 and Spring Hill drive to panhandle, drinking kratom everyday and seeing no end to our pathetic lifestyle things started taking a turn for the worse and before long we were arguing about everything again.

On our wedding anniversary, December 16th, I lost it. I was so tired of watching Chris freak out all night long over every little sound, I was completely over him questioning me about phones, I was done with using drugs and arguing about every miniscule thing.

We started fighting and without comprehending what I was doing I had a full on mental breakdown. I grabbed an exacto knife and slashed my arms wide open, the flesh opened over an inch, exposing my tissue underneath. I held it up, blood dripping all over and screamed, “YOU MAKE ME DO THIS!”

“CRAZY FUCKING BITCH!” I can hear him yelling at me in my head. Cutting myself didn’t solve anything, I didn’t die and it didn’t help repair my relationship any either. In fact, every time I go to drastic lengths like I did that day things only got worse.

After that day I think Chris realized, finally, that we really couldn’t stay together and be on drugs at the same time. He was desperate in trying to find a place to take him in for detox. We spent days on end making phone calls to try and get him a ride but the only way he was able to get a ride is from a cop and he was not about to get in the back of a Pasco County Police vehicle.

One night, both of us lie awake unable to sleep due to the methamphetamine in our blood stream. I laid down and closed my eyes despite not being able to sleep and that’s when Chris decided to pick an argument with me. By the end of it he has both his hands gripped right around my neck and I pressed into him, yelling at him to do it.

Seconds went by like minutes or hours but he got off of me and fell to the ground, sobbing. He was afraid of himself, afraid of what he could have done to me. He was so lost in desperation, wanting so badly to be better and to be in love in a healthy way.

It’s like everything was hitting him all at once all over again. Zeke being born early, losing custody of Zeke, him going to jail all those times inly to discover that the mother of his children had cheated on him multiple times. He couldn’t heal, especially in a relationship with me while using drugs.

The next day he packed a small bag and he left. I spent the entire day on the phone with his mom, telling her the truth about where Chris really was because he lied to her and said he went to stay at a commune in Kentucky. I just wanted to see him get help. He never came home and I had an epiphany about my own life and addiction and I had to get myself some help.

On December 22nd of 2022 I called up my mother on the phone and I told her everything and let her know that I was officially ready to go into rehab and I wanted help. She picked me up from the woods and got me a room at Days Inn for a few days until it was time to go to my dads to celebrate Christmas.

Desperate to get high, I took my phone and texted our drug dealer, Rooster. I had him come by to exchange sex for drugs. He didn’t bring anything with him but promised he’d be back later and to just take care of him then so I did.

But, his member was a lot bigger than anything I’d ever taken before and before long he was starting to hurt me. I screamed for him to stop but he wouldn’t. I laid face down in the mattress with tears in my eyes. He got up and just left and didn’t come back.

December 23, 2022 was the last time I saw Chris in person. He hopped on the city bus on the 22nd and walked to my hotel room and spent the night with me. I told him my plans for treatment which were pretty much the same as his were just days before. I planned on going to detox and then into a rehab.

I was hoping – praying – that he would say that he’d come with me to treatment but I was not so lucky. He was fully on board with checking himself into a detox and going to rehab – WHATEVER IT TOOK, but he had always despised Florida… I can hear him saying, “Fuck Florida!”, now.

He was dead set on making his way back to Maryland to start his treatment and not to blame him but he didn’t invite me because at that point neither one of us knew exactly what we needed or wanted from each other but that didn’t mean in any way that we didn’t want to be with each other. That I didn’t want to be with him. Because I did. If ever given the choice, I’d have always chosen Chris.

We cuddled and talked, sat in silence, and held each other while tears streamed down both of our faces. It was definitely an emotional goodbye. There was no way the both of us would be able to find recovery unless we did it on our own. For whatever reason we just enabled one another too much.

So, he was to go to Maryland and seek treatment up there and I’d stay down in Florida where I had my family support system and once we achieved sobriety for at least 6 months then we were going to go back to each other. That was the plan.

He held me until I fell asleep in his arms and the following morning, in the wee hours of the day before my mom could show up, he left. We shared the very last kiss we’d ever share and without my knowledge I’d be saying goodbye to Chris for the very last time.

Chris was desperate, looking everywhere he thought he could for us to move. He called his brothers, his mom, and I put all of my faith into him and asked little to no questions – just putting all my faith into my husbands ability and I find us a nice new place to call home. We were running out of time though and the longer it took for us to move, the longer we had this tax refund money burning a hole in his pocket.

Finally, just days before we had to vacate the apartment he found a boat for sale in the little channel of water his mom was anchored in down in Key West in Islamorada for just $300. I knew we had at least 2gs from our taxes but I never paid attention to how much was spent before having to leave and still kind of have no idea what Chris did during that time.

We ended up not having enough to rent a car like I originally wanted to, nor could we fly and we didn’t have enough money for a bus ticket and still pay towards the boat when we got there. There again, we spent too much money on drugs and not enough on a manner of living.

Somehow, Chris being the lucky man that he was he was able to get some money donated to him from the church we occasionally attended and another church was amazing enough to purchase our bus tickets down to Florida. Everything eventually worked out, but I was admittedly pretty pissed off with how careless he’d been with our money.

We detoxed off of heroin and crack all the way down to Florida and then the 6+ hours it took for us to get down to the keys only to find his mom at the Burger King’s greyhound station they had in town, load up the Freebie cab they provide in Islamorada free of charge with our bags and make our way to the Post Card Inn and walk across the street to what they refer to as the Landing and load up his mom’s boat with our luggage and be taken to our new boat.

I don’t know what I was expecting, but surely it was not what I was about to get. Our boat was very small, and it was “anchored” down by the low tide and slightly tilted to one side, the propellers hurried deep in the sand below.

There was no bedding on this boat, no pillows, blankets or any real area to even sleep in. I was in red exhausted from our weeklong journey south to get here and all I wanted to do was unload and stretch out somewhere and feel comfortable.

I was not about to get what I wished for.

Malinda let us crash on her boat for a few days but the anxiety I started experiencing from lack of comfort, sense of space and any real sort of plan for the future to be seen. Chris was somehow very upbeat about the entire situation. He just would tell me everything was going to work itself out and that he was going to get a badass good paying waiter job and I’d find a good paying job and without any bills that we’d just get rich.

I don’t know if the person reading this has ever experienced withdrawal or anything like it but this specific withdrawal had me overwhelmed with anxiety. My body stiff, unsure how to get it to relax long enough for me to feel like breathing would come easy for me. I was crying from how unhappy I was and how my husband spent all our fucking money so we weren’t able to prepare and purchase what we needed to make this boat live-able.

I called my mom in Tarpon Springs a week after we arrived. I cried and cried and begged her to save me. I admitted defeat. After all the shit I’ve been through, all the bullshit living situations that Chris had me endure I had finally reached my limit. Fuck boats.

She bought me a bus ticket to Tampa and I took my suitcase and Chewie and I left. I had every intention in coming back, I assure you, I just wanted Chris to make it as close to at home as he could before me returning.

He got a job at a place called the Lorelei as a bar back and a busser while I was away. And while staying at my moms in Tarpon Springs in a tiny apartment on Orange Street I underwent a complete mental breakdown. I couldn’t move, couldn’t sit up, couldn’t lay down and I certainly couldn’t function properly without undergoing some of the most intense and excruciating anxiety that a person could have.

I think I was gone maybe a month, maybe longer but there was no way I was getting anywhere staying at my moms. I will say this though, I was sober. Not only that, but I was involved with mental health services through the FACT team in Pinellas County and I was taking my medication as directed every day which was a huge step in the right direction.

That was until I went and visited Nessa and Ryan in Hudson one day. I used meth and a little bit of fentanyl while there and convinced Chris to come and visit me for “one last ha-rah.” He flew from Miami to Tampa and took a cab all the way to Hudson from the airport.

Once he got there we did so much drugs in such a short period of time, we rented out the front room at the trap that Nessa was living out for three days and spent the duration of his time in town fucking like rabbits.

Then he went back to Islamorada and I went back to my moms until it was time to go back with him myself.

I returned to Chris on a greyhound bus only to find that the boat was not only not in better condition but in worse. The low tide caused the boat to sink even further into the mud down below so the entire boat was at an intense crooked angle. Luckily, Chris ordered a solar panel set up for the boat, some mattress toppers that we would later use as a mattress and some bedding donated from the church along with some pillows.

But, there was this animosity towards me for leaving him to stay with my mom while he struggled the month I was away. I understood where he was coming from but it was hard to make him understand why I had to do what I did for my mental health. I just did my best to catch up on the progress, especially since returning back to him immediately made all my anxiety disappear. He always seemed to make my mind and body feel more content even when he’s making my life hell.

I got a job at Theatre Of The Sea after just a week or two. Theatre of the Sea was an amusement water park and natural aquarium. It had a lot of rescued animals, turtles, gators, sea lions and dolphins amongst a few others and people could pay to go swimming, interact and even pain with the animals. Hands down one of the coolest jobs I’ve ever worked.

We were both working but the stress levels were still high. Chris seemed like he hated me for abandoning him, he still pressed me on and on about his phone and emails and.. you guessed it! We found drugs again. The lady who sold us the boat, Cammie, also sold methamphetamines.

I’d go into work in the morning, Chris had fluctuating schedules and on our way back from paddling from shore we’d stop at Cammie’s boat and grab a bag from her hoping and praying his mom didn’t notice but eventually she did catch on.

Not too long after we started using did things take a major turn for the worst. At this point, my mom was refusing to even talk to me for getting back together with Chris so I couldn’t run to her for help anymore.

One fight we had lasted longer than a week. We’d argue about phone shit, passwords, emails we locked each other out of and Facebook accounts we couldn’t get into because we were both changing each others passwords on and off for months that year. Every single day our fights got physical and every day I’d end up with a new bruise or sprained hand.

I had enough one day and used my last paycheck from Theatre of the Sea for a plane ticket to Seattle, WA to stay at my brother’s. But, I couldn’t stand to be away from Chris for too long and before I knew it, I was planning my way back to Islamorada as soon as possible. I manipulated my father into buying me a plane ticket to Tampa where I also convinced my mom to give me another chance and told her to pick me up from the airport knowing damn well I was hopping on a bus to Islamorada instead.

It took us all of one day to fall into the same fighting routine once I got there. The black eyes became more noticeable and I was having to wear makeup just to cover them up.

I remember the last good day spent in Islamorada with him was on my birthday when we went to the Post Card Inn and got some strawberry daiquiri’s and quesadillas and made sweet love. After that it was all downhill.

There was one bad fight we had where I finally lost it. I punched myself repeatedly in my forehead so bent out of shape and frustrated after getting punched and smacked by the one man I loved more than anything. I packed up my stuff and made provisions to leave with my paycheck and head down to Key West to stay at a domestic abuse shelter they had down there until I could figure out a smarter and more permanent solution.

I stayed at the domestic abuse shelter in Key West for about two weeks. My second day there they bought me a cell phone at Metro PCS and started helping me make phone calls. Much to my surprise, my mother refused to talk to me any longer than to tel me she wasn’t going to help me and so I was left with all my resources exhausted. I hit up the very last person I’d ever ask to stay with and that was my first husband, Michael.

The shelter bought me a bus ticket to Spring Hill, FL but because I hadn’t stopped my line of communication with Chris, it wasn’t before long he convinced me to get off the bus and come back to him. I passed Islamorada by the time the guilt trip for me to stay kicked in so I got off in the next town, Key Largo, walked a good few miles and got picked up from hitch hiking making my way back to the landing just in time to run into Chris.

Immediately he was upset with me for accepting a ride from someone and we conversed about it for a while before he agreed to let me come back to the boat. Of course, he didn’t tell his mom I was coming back and it didn’t take long before me being back was a problem and I was regretting coming back.

Chris had a hold on me like nothing I could ever really explain to anyone . The hope that things would someday be some sort of picture perfect life was driving me to stay but the drugs, violence and toxicity were what fueled us. We were so codependent on each other and spending any amount of time apart drive us to insanity, even though we always did better separate.

I stayed as long as I could the last time. I got myself a job at CVS and worked there for a good 3 weeks before leaving again. This go around with Chris was so out of this world I sometimes cannot believe I even went through it. He not only laid his hands on me but he threw my entire suitcase in the ocean. It was open so I was able to fish out a few items of clothing but a lot of my possessions were ruined. Photographs, my social security card, momentos, and some irreplaceable memories I held onto were gone forever.

I knew almost as soon as I got there but the thing was I needed to save up money in order to leave so I was hiding my time trying to be as civil as possible until it was time for me to get a ticket out of there. Michael and I kept in contact and though he was disappointed I went back to Chris my spot as his house was still available.

August was when I finally was able to get out of there. Chris wouldn’t even say goodbye to me. I kissed Chewie and cried, mourning my loss before I’d even gone. I got on the bus and made my way to Spring Hill, FL.

I started panhandling again as soon as we moved into our apartment to support our drug habit, we very quickly after starting to use crack picked up a 300-400 a day habit. Chris lost his job at Food Lion while we were still living at Alton’s and had since started working at Lombardi’s as a waiter.

I was able to get a job at Walmart in Fruitland doing online grocery pick up – I was the one who loaded the cars up with their orders and I was making $17.00/hr. I wasn’t able to keep that job for long before I was almost caught shoplifting.

Luckily for us, after my old boss at Dollar Tree asked for nude pictures of me, I immediately hired a lawyer and was actively pursuing legal action. But, until then I was able to get a job at Subrunners which was less than a 5 minute walk from our house.

Malinda was in Maryland, staying with us on Baker Street for a little while. Chris and I were in treatment again, going to a methadone clinic every morning for our doses, but still using whenever possible too.

On October 18, 2021 I received a phone call from Nessa that would curb my whole reality. My best friend in the whole world, the little girl I met when I was barely 4 years old had died and from COVID, nonetheless. I remember the day like it was yesterday, Chris and I were walking home from D’s house after copping some drugs and I fell to the ground, sobbing.

I could not believe what I was hearing Nessa try to tell me. Grief spirals through your body like nothing I could ever describe when you first discover that someone you love has passed.

Tiffany fell ill one day, and without getting better she drove herself to the emergency room and not two days later she would be pronounced dead. Because of her line of work, a pediatric dental hygienist and because of her weight and because they put her on a ventilator made it so.

It couldn’t be true! I had to drop everything to be with her family. No if ands or buts about it – I had to go to Florida and be with Brenda, Jerry and the girls; with Malinda there, I knew Chris was in good hands.

I took a Bayshuttle bus to the Baltimore airport and flew into Tampa and spent a good week with them all. Brenda had set up Tiffany’s room for me to sleep in and I couldn’t bear to lie in her bed so I just went through her things. I didn’t know how to process all the emotions I was feeling.

It didn’t help that I did not maintain sobriety while in Florida trying to process the entire ordeal. I had no opiates to get me through that week so meth was the only thing making me feel remotely normal while in town grieving with her family.

While bonding and reminiscing Tiffany with Cody, I got a call from Chris accusing me of sleeping with Cody. Cody, the man who was madly in love with Tiffany, had only had each other for over 15 years and he had the nerve to accuse me of sleeping with him. Having sex with me was the very last thing on his mind.

My best friend was gone and I wasn’t equipped to deal with that reality.

I returned to Salisbury and got stuck right back in the same routine. I would work and when not working I’d be off panhandling or prostituting. Malinda would fly back to Florida to live on her boat and Chris and I would stop going to the methadone clinic and even worse than my heroin usage became my crack addiction. I’d go to grave lengths to obtain a fat rock to stick on top of some choreboy on my stem and get a real dead ringers of a hit and feel the euphoria spread throughout my body.

I slept with our dealer D whenever he had some drugs to offer me, I was sleeping with an Asian doctor that worked over at PRMC (the hospital) that Chris was okay with me sleeping with and I’d go off and sleep with another man and tell him it was Wenbo, the Asian. I didn’t understand why it was okay for me to sleep with some men and not the others so I’d just lie about who I’d be sleeping with and assume that as long as I was coming up with the money to get high everyday then he’d stay happy enough with me to not ask any questions. This proved to be true so I continued with my endeavors.

Sometimes if I did a really shitty job coming up with money from panhandling then I’d even get in the car with random men and sleep with them. I had absolutely no self esteem, my self worth was out the door and as long as Chris and I were fucked up and feeling good by the time we were ready to go to sleep at night.

The thing was that during this time it was like our friendship and sexual relationship was at an all time high. During the day whenever we were able to spend it together, it seemed almost magical. Like him and I were the only two people on the planet. We’d go off on adventures together, we’d spend the day taking pictures together, making love, recording content for our onlyfans and I’d end up asleep in his arms by the end of the night, or spooning him softly to sleep. I allowed myself to feel happy, however long that happiness were to last.

I was Mrs. Christopher Ryan Willey and I was so incredibly proud to be so. I felt through everything we put ourselves through as a couple that I undoubtedly earned his name and the title of his wife. I made sure he was high, happy, well fed, with a clean home and not a care in the world other than going to work at Lombardi’s Pizza waiting tables the shifts that he did. I took care of everything else.

Even when it came to paying the bills I made sure it would rarely or never be our responsibility to pay any of them. I got Diakonia or some other non profit agency to pay for our rent and electric. Which was easy because I was also enrolled in a program called the Act program which prescribed me all my mental health prescriptions and due to it being prime Covid season during the 2021 year it was actually quite easy to get different funding from different organizations to pay for our rent and utilities.

We were able to stay on Baker Street in Salisbury for the entire year of our rental agreement without having to pay out of pocket for the rent once. We never paid for the electricity or any of our furniture either. I got the entire apartment furnished via Facebook groups and Craigslist, even was able to get items like our couch and bed delivered to the apartment.

I met a man named Melvin when we first started renting the apartment and I was panhandling on the corner of Pemberton and Nanticoke Rd and he gave me $60 bucks after asking me what it would take for me to just go home. I’d go over his house sometimes and I’d let him lick on my nipples and fiddle with my snatch and he just took care of me. Chris knew and couldn’t have been happier with the arrangement. He bought me an AC unit for my birthday in early June so I wouldn’t be sweaty all day at home and a refrigerator because the apartment didn’t come with one.

Honestly, he was a really great guy and he didn’t deserve how I took advantage of him.

But, that’s how we were able to make ends meet, hold a pretty expensive and hardcore drug habit and still end the day with smiles on our faces the year we lived on Baker Street. Unfortunately, we weren’t ignorant to the fact that our lifestyle wasn’t going to continue on like this forever and our year there was coming to an end and to be practical, towards the end with all the eviction notices we barely were able to get around, we’d have to move.

The $6,000 that I got from Dollar Tree for suing them for sexual harassment had come and gone and we were able to save none of it or purchase anything that would have made life any better. It was time to find somewhere to go and we knew it had to be somewhere that’s get us as far the fuck away from Salisbury, MD and all the drugs that came with it.

So towards the beginning of the year we decided to make our search for our new home and we’d use the money from our taxes to get there.

After giving birth to Jane, we had to check out of our hotel. Luckily, Alton offered to rent us a room at 140 Coulbourn Dr in Salisbury. There was a major dilemma with our moving in, Alton also rented a room out to Kevin. Alton and his girlfriend shared the master bedroom in the front of the house and we were in one room – Kevin in the other in the back of the house.

Things were actually going real well. I never went a day without Chris telling me how beautiful I was and how much he loved me and we seemed more in love than ever and like the trust between us was growing.

We even got together with Kevin one night and took some acid. It was a magical night and we all vibed out really well. I remember promising to myself that I’d never do acid with Chris again. The entire time he was trying to snuff out my trip and go to sleep and all I wanted to do was enjoy all the pretty colors. I was having the best of times.

Chris and Kevin seemed to wipe each other’s slate clean. Before I knew it Chris had me driving him to Seaford, DE to get us all heroin. I wasted no time getting badly addicted to drugs again. I was prescribed Suboxone the entire time I was pregnant and watching Chris use towards the end.

After we all used acid together things between Chris and Kevin got weird again. I’m pretty sure it was because I vibed really well with Kevin that night and it just didn’t sit well with Chris. On top of that, Alton and Robin found out he was using and Robin went to the courthouse and got a restraining order against him, kicking him out of the house.

Alton would always let me borrow his car and I’d be driving to Seaford practically every day. In October of 2019 while I was working in the meat department at Food Lion, Chris accused me of cheating on him with Kevin and I literally lost it. While on the phone with Chris, I took one of the sharpest knives in the butcher area and sliced open my arm a few times. Blood squirting out of my wrist, running through the store clutching it, I ran past the manager and screamed, “I QUIT!”

I hung up on Chris and called 911, I was not expecting the knife to cut me so easily and so deep. My flesh was gaped open, I was terrified that I may have actually hit something. I was picked up outside the Big Lots and taken to the hospital immediately where I received over 20 stitches then was sent up to the psych ward for a 72 hour hold.

I guess that accidental suicide was enough to prove to Chris, at least for the time being that I wasn’t seeing Kevin on the side. Things were quickly back to our amazing love making sessions and mutually affectionate flirting with each other nonstop.

That was a scary time of year for heroin and overdoses. Thirteen bangs in a bundle and three bags would make Chris and I go out at any given moment. It wasn’t uncommon for Chris to OD while I was driving us home from Seaford. On more than one occasion I would have to pull his body out of the car on the side of the road to administer CPR, a few chest nuggies and a few smacks to the face before he’d come back to it.

Eventually our drug use was becoming obvious to Alton and his girlfriend. So, I’m enrolled in an opioid MAT (medically assisted treatment) and got put back on Suboxone. I really wanted Chris and I to get off of heroin, but that’s easier said than done. I went hard into my treatment. I did weekly zoom meetings and some in person, too. I did weekly drug tests, too.

Not long after Kevin left did Chris and I move into his room. I was in treatment, we weren’t getting high as much and things were good. We were truly happy. Our sex life was incredible, our communication was on point, I gave him back rubs almost every night and things were so good.

So when December rolled around I became so happy that I brought up marriage. I said whatever I could to convince him to marry me and because we were so happy, it didn’t take much. For weeks I went out in town searching for the perfect wedding dress but none fit.

The day I married Chris… December 16, 2020. It was raining, very lightly almost in a romantic way. I got dressed up but he didn’t want me to wear a wedding dress he said he wanted to see me in something that I’d wear not anything every other girl would because I wasn’t like all the other girls. I was his sweet Alexandria and he was my sweet Christopher. Hand and hand we walked the inclined road up to the courthouse, stealing kisses from each other.

We patiently waited in the courthouse after filing the paperwork and the wedding officiant led us into an adorable little chapel. When asked if I’d take his hand in marriage I quickly said yes, instead of i do and he’d never let that down. I didn’t care, it was a dream come true for me. I was marrying my soulmate.

After we got married things took a turn for the worst and it was all over a bean burrito from Taco Bell. Now, let me explain. I had bought myself fast food on more than one occasion and it seemed like every time I bought myself something and I’d try and save it for later, Alton would eat it.

So, this time I went out of my way and wrote on the burrito “ALLIE’S DO NOT EAT!” and the bastard ate it anyways. So, this time I said something. It was a blatant disregard for someone else’s property and I was upset. But, I thought i kept it together for the most part.

Evidently, he felt disrespected by me voicing my aggravation out loud and he started attempting to make our lives a living hell. It started with petty things like piling up trash and broken TV’s at our door, cutting off Chris’ rides to work, etc. Then it escalated into then blocking off our way to the kitchen and living room so we were left entering and exiting the house through our bedroom window.

Things were starting to get way out of hand and before we knew it ignoring them wasn’t enough for them so they started screaming matches with us through our bedroom door until Robin actually threatened to have us shot.

The very next morning I went down to the courthouse and filed a restraining order against them and they had to leave for a week, which at least gave us enough time to figure out what our next move would be and we decided that we would put in an application with GNI rentals.

They wanted all of our information but as soon as I gathered it all and sent it in we were approved. The last few days spent at Alton’s house Chris decided, since we were still deep in our addiction, that we could sell some of Alton’s things in exchange for some heroin. We got rid of a few TV sets, a few of his tools, a laptop and a few other things and traded them to our new drug dealer -D.

The day that Alton and Robin were allowed to come home they immediately put a restraining order out against us and we left with all our things and Chewie, and we slept outside in the park awaiting our apartment to be ready. The next few days we were able to get a hotel and I attempted to secure my job back at Dollar Tree. That is until my boss texted me asking me to send him nudes.

Finally, we moved into our adorable little one bedroom apartment at 600 Baker St in the heart of the ghetto.

My dad helped Chris and I leave the state. I basically took off out of my mom’s in the middle of the night and she tried to hold Chewie hostage out of anger, but I was able to retrieve him before I left. My father housed Chris and I, sleeping in his Jeep before having him drop us off at the bus station in Spring Hill the next day.

It was Chris, me and Chewie all over again – like it should have always been. It felt so right. Chris was able to line up a place for us to stay at his brother, Colby’s, on Ocean Aisle Circle. They were absolutely beautiful apartments and they were in close proximity to a few shopping centers.

Chris, with the help of his grandfather’s best friend, Alton Jones, was able to find employment right away at the local grocery store called Food Lion, where he worked in the meet department.

I devoted my energy looking into abortion options, but the closest abortion clinic was all the way in Baltimore. We settled on having another adoption and I was determined to make this adoption even better than the last and I immediately found the most amazing couple, Devin and Jordan of Champagne, Illinois. Everything from their photos to their biography screamed perfection.

In March of 2020, Chris got cold feet about staying with me while I was pregnant with someone else’s baby. It caught me off guard because things seemed to be going so well between us but I found it to be completely understandable.

So, I made arrangements to stay with Nessa in Dearborn, MI. Chewie and I quickly got acclimated to the gorgeous cold weather. Loki Bear and Miss Acacia Grace were there as well as Ryan and Zamian. My time at Nessa’s was something similar to a juicy soap opera. Nessa and her boyfriend were experiencing a lot of issues and I’m pretty sure they were shooting up dope as well as using kratom every few days.

I spent the majority of my time there just hanging out with the kids and watching all the drama unfold. On more than one occasion the 3 of them would have it out on each other and I’d hide out with Chewie until it was all over, having the basement to myself.

Luckily for me Chris, after two months of being there, decided he didn’t want to live without me so in May I flew back to him. After I left I got word about a few things that were going on in Nessa’s home and I decided to call CPS on them. They knew immediately it was me and for a short while I was an enemy of the Kalanko/Marbrey household.

Chris was shooting up by the time I got back from Michigan. He met up with his best friend Kevin and quickly got badly addicted to heroin again.

Not a month after I get home to Chris does he tell me that he’s going out with a bunch of his friends from work and asks me if I can help him freshen up. I help him get ready, give him a haircut and pick out a nice outfit, sending him on his way.

About a week after I went through his phone one day only to find him texting a girl named Caitlin that he worked with. Evidently, he did not go out with a bunch of his coworkers that night, it was her he was getting ready for. I was so heartbroken, and it hurt even worse that it was me who got him all spiffy for a date with another girl. And I can’t even remember the last time he’d ever taken me out on a date.

Being insanely hormonal and hurt, I admit, I didn’t act accordingly. I started texting the girl, letting her know that I was Chris’ baby mother and I also called up his job and told them he was shooting up in the parking lot but I eventually called them back saying I was lying about it. I was just a heartbroken, hormonal piece of shit trying my best to hold it all together.

In the midst of all this I decided it was a good idea to start messaging Chris’ best friend, Kevin. I was flirting with him trying to make Chris jealous and that backfired on me because from that moment on I couldn’t convince Chris that I had never slept with him. Selling Chris the heroin he was using, I made things really uncomfortable between the two.

One day after Chris’ shift at Food Lion, Chris invites Kevin over so he could do a shot and not moments after he does his shot Chris suffered an overdose. I didn’t want to administer the narcan until I knew he absolutely needed it, but Kevin was yelling at me to use it and so I did and shocked him back to life.

Somehow, Colby discovered Chris was using again and had overdosed and he sent Donna and Delana over to get us out of the apartment. I had the adoption agency put us in a hotel for the duration of my pregnancy. We were doing pretty well at the Motel 6 and Chris was doing mostly Suboxone, I was going to a MAT doctor to get a prescription. But, kevin would occasionally meet up with him to sell him dope.

Kevin got a job working at Food Lion with Chris at the time. One day while Chris was at work, Kevin came over to the hotel room and he asked me if I’d like to fuck. I don’t even think I thought about it. I told Kevin to leave and wait outside for Chris outside.

Their next week at work Chris cornered Kevin in one of the walk in freezers at work and punched him in the face for trying to sleep with me and someone Kevin was the one who got fired. That was the end of their friendship. Kevin had crossed a line that couldn’t be uncrossed. Yet, somehow, after a brief introduction to Alton, Kevin was invited to come move in with him and we had somehow missed out on the opportunity.

On September 9, 2020, after taking a nice warm bath trying to prevent myself from going into labor I quickly realized it was time to push this baby out. Chris called an ambulance and he followed behind me in an Uber to the hospital. This was the first birth I’ve had where I had a loved one present. I refused to start pushing until Chris showed up but once he did he didn’t leave my side.

I allowed Devin, the adoptive mother, into the room so she could see her daughter being born. It was a magical experience for me, it truly was. It was everything I had ever wanted from an adoption birth. She was 7lb 11oz and I named her Camille Janis Isabella LaHaye. She came crying into the world and we’d all call her Jane.

It was the most incredible adoption story that anyone could have had. Chris cut the umbilical cord and took pictures of the whole thing… even when the doctor was repairing my tears. I gave Jane her first bath with her parents and the hospital hooked us up by putting them in their own mother/baby suite right next to mine. We shared many firsts together and I got to have unlimited time just learning and staring at my precious baby girl.

Because Jane had Suboxone in her system she had to stay a full week so I was discharged from the hospital before she was. She luckily did not suffer from any withdrawal. I went back to the hospital every day until she was discharged and just a day after she was released we all got together at their Air B&B for a beautiful photoshoot.

To get away from all the drama associated with my existence I decided to get away and my sister offered for me to stay with her and her family at her apartment in Boise, Idaho. So, I flew out to Boise with a backpack, and my skyrocketing mental health and substance abuse issues in hopes that I’d stay sober and retrieve some help.

My sister had just given birth to her first and only son, Axle and was married to a lovely man from California named Shane. Their son was one of the most beautiful babies I had ever seen before, with his gorgeous big blue eyes. He was about 8 months old when I arrived and helped me mourn the loss of my son.

I suffered through my mental health the entire time I was in Boise. I still talked to Chris on the phone but my heart was so broken. An insomniac suffering through the loss of custody of my son, an adoption and whatever postpartum crap our bodies have to go through after birth.

I was smoking copious amounts of THC wax concentrate that our dad was mailing Camille from Colorado all day and throughout the night while everyone was sleeping. I was so manic some nights that I’d just stay up all night making lame and depressing GIFs for my Tumblr account. One night I got drunk, sending drunken videos to my friend Nessa and tattooing myself all over, I was not okay.

After a month in that same old manic loop, with my crazed insomnia, I decided to check myself into a mental hospital for a nice 72 hour hold in what happened to be the nicest mental health facility I could’ve ever imagined. They were the most polite and respectful patients. I even had a schizophrenic apologizing for talking to himself. I was able to get on some medication and participated in the groups.

After I was discharged my sister and I would frequently take off on these long, scenic drives. We’d drive deep into the mountains to see the waterways, waterfalls and gorges. Idaho was, hands down, the most gorgeous state I’ve ever seen. There was something new and phenomenally beautiful to see not 20 minutes from the next. It’s like I let my exploration badge out of storage and I was finally able to appreciate the views.

Sometime during my stay I met an internet friend, he went by the name Jukka but his real name was Joe. He lived back in Florida and he was just really easy to talk to. We hit it off, despite me still talking to Chris and after sharing many sad baths over the phone, he offered to buy my plane ticket back to Florida just so he could meet me.

So, I hopped on a plane back to Tampa and shortly after he picked me up and took me out on dates. We’d lay down in my driveway and stare up at the sky and check for meteor showers. I’d spend the night over his house and I absolutely adored his children. He had a good job, was in a band, owned a truck and held an addiction to Dunkin Donuts coffee and 305 menthol cigarettes.

There was a point in time when I decided to stay with Nessa and her family. I had the time of my life while I was living with her. She had Loki, her son and Acacia which was her baby daughter and I was Titi to them. I love

Unfortunately, right after meeting Joe I reconnected with one of my old crust punk friends, Jarin. He was a drug addict and not before long I was shooting up heroin and smoking meth with him.

I hated myself and I was miserable in my own skin. I was grieving hard over the loss of my 3 children, still. I was medically crazy and I had no coping mechanisms. I’d use all day with Jarin and have Joe pick me up to snuggle and have sex with afterwards. I had Chris, Jarin and Joe – one foot in the door of a potentially fun and adoring man that allowed me to enter the lives of his children, another in a relationship with a drug addicted and lost man while the rest of me was gripping tightly to Chris in hopes to marry him one day. I was honest with Joe when I told him I planned to get with him as soon as he got released from prison.

I’ve always been a deceitful, manipulating bitch that doesn’t have personal boundaries. I was so selfish to try juggling 3 men, I told Chris and Jarin everything they wanted to hear but I also genuinely liked all 3 men. I was getting myself into a bigger pickle than I bargained for.

My behavior was completely out of control. I was sneaking off in the middle of the night, I was sneaking people over to sell me drugs while my mom was sleeping and staying up for days at a time all high on meth. One night my mom and I got in an argument and Jarin picked me up with his mom.

In retaliation, my mom called 911 to have me Baker Acted. It was January 3rd, 2020 and Chris’ release date was January 16th. I was working at Big Lots in Tarpon Springs saving up money so that when Chris got out of prison we’d immediately take a bus up to Maryland.

Jarin’s mom got pulled over just a few short blocks away from my mom’s house with expired tags. I was taken in for a Baker Act, their car was impounded while I was sent to Trinity Hospital and then to the local mental hospital for a 72 hour hold.

While waiting for a bed to open up for me at the mental hospital, I fell asleep. At around 4am a nurse shook me awake and informed me that I was pregnant.

“Shut the fuck up!”, I exclaimed. At that point in my life, after all the bullshit I’ve endured, for that nurse to wake me up and inform me of my condition. It took all of me not to break out into hysterics. What the fuck, really?! God must really hate me and at that point I wasn’t sure how I felt about him either.

Only having had sex with Jarin once or twice and Joe so much more, I was still very unsure of who the father was. Chris was getting out of jail in a little over a week. What the hell was I going to do? FUCK! And now I have the next 3 days stuck not being able to do anything in a fucking mental hospital.

As soon as I got out I told Joe I was pregnant and I made an appointment at an abortion clinic. I brought all the money I had saved up to get to Maryland and it still wasn’t enough for the procedure. Time had run out and I didn’t have a way to fix the problem, so I made a plan to abort the baby before Chris could find out once I got to Maryland.

On the night of January 16th 2020, I borrowed my mom’s car and drove to the Tampa bus station to pick up Chris. I dressed up all saucy and took Chewie with me for a full on family reunion. I was beyond excited. After I picked him up I drove him to the Champion Inn in Holiday and we spent the entire night loving each other and shooting heroin. It was magical.

Then I woke up, Chris was standing over me with my phone in his hands. He had gone through my phone, my texts and God knows what else. He knew everything before I even had the chance to come clean about it. Not only did I lie about being with anyone else while he was in prison, but I was pregnant with another man’s baby.

I had to figure out how to convince him to stay with me as well as figure out what to do about this pregnancy. Chris was so calm about it all that it was almost eerie. He overall just wished I had been honest for once.

So we sat and we talked it out and I told him all about Joe and Jarin. He wanted to be with me, but ultimately he didn’t want me to continue my pregnancy if I could help it.