Jesse lived with cousin Ashlyn and while we were staying with them they moved from an apartment to a nice big house on Strawberry Lane where we were offered to rent out a room. Right when we moved in Ashlyn’s pit bull gave birth to a litter of puppies.

Chris was able to get some work from his grandfather country club doing landscaping and I resorted back to panhandling and modeling.

We were trying to be happy again, without all the distractions from life getting in our way. But, then my mom offered to let me come visit her and I jumped at the opportunity.

I left for maybe 3 weeks. He started using it as soon as I left and I wasted no time finding my own connection through the Internet. But, in order to afford my and Chris’ habit I had to find an income and fast. So, I set up a profile on Backpage for happy endings and modeled a little on the side.

I was making quite the cash load until one afternoon I was picked up by a man driving a white with black trimmed Yukon SUV with eerie tinted windows. He didn’t speak much and neither did I. I was nervous. He drove up and down, curved here and there and it wasn’t before long that I was totally lost. I was oblivious to the fact that it was his intention to get me lost. We pulled into a long gravel driveway in front of a gorgeous mountain view home with a gorgeous 200k RV parked outside.

I got out of the SUV and was guided into the RV where, upon entering, a man threw himself on me and pulled a black sack over my head.

Sometimes, looking back at it, it was like eternity passed through but other times it comes in flashes like merely moments went by and I never really experienced it at all.

Bend over a tub of water, struggling to breathe as I’m being dunked in and out of the water. These men degraded me, they defiled my body. It wasn’t the rape that got me that day. It was the horrifying realization that I could have died right then. I thought I was going to die right there.

They didn’t kill me though. They used me up completely, left me black and blue. They raged a war within themselves and used my body as a target.

I was tossed out of the SUV on the side of the road, somewhere I recognized. The first thing I did was call Chris. My sweet Chris would make this all better. He would say the right thing. He would lift me up.

I was badly bruised, a cut lip from being smacked and hit in the same spot. I didn’t allow myself to process what had happened. I cried, yelled at myself but quickly regained my composure.

I called Chris but my words and my mouth weren’t cooperating with each other and I got frantic and his first reaction was to not believe me at all.

I spent the rest of my night on the phone with him begging, pleading for him to believe me. His disbelief in my pain hurt a million times worse than the rape.

But, I do understand why he wouldn’t believe me.

I covered up my bruises with makeup and told my mom I was ready to return home.

“Get a greyhound bus to Richmond and me and Jesse will pick from there” is what Chris told me to do. So, I had my mom drive me to Charlotte, NC where I got onto a bus to Richmond, with Chewie.

Guess who wasn’t there when I got there? He hadn’t even figured out the details of how he was going to get me from the bus station even though I totally could have just got on a bus straight to Salisbury. I sent money to Chris to be able to get me from Richmond but he spent all the cash buying himself heroin thinking he’d be able to replenish the funds by the time rn had to come get me.

I was stranded at the Greyhound station in the ghetto of Richmond, VA and was b myself on what I should do. I had Chewie, my bags and not a dime to my name. So, I grabbed Chewie and started walking the interstate towards Salisbury. I actually made it a few miles before getting stopped by a local police officer. Apparently, it’s actually against the law to walk the interstate, who knew?

That cop was sent from heaven for me that night. He let me ride in the front seat of the cop car and let me choose where I got dropped off at, which I chose the brightly lit and safe Wawa gas station exit before the Greyhound station.

I told him all about my adventures traveling and about how my father was a pot growing marijuana advocate in Colorado. He shared with me that it’s been a dream of his to be able to quit his job at the police station to move to Colorado and sell marijuana.

After he left I spent the night outside of Wawa until morning and once the sun came up I posted up at the exit with a sign thinking maybe I could panhandle myself enough money to purchase a ticket home.

Thanks to the help of good ‘ol Buzz Carragher, Chris’ grandfather, I was rescued from the streets of Richmond. He has purchased the ticket for me and I’d be on my way home. I was absolutely livid about the entire experience.

Chris was working for his grandfather. Sometimes at the Salisbury Cycle bike shop and sometimes at the Golf and Country Club doing landscaping. Right before I returned home Chris had got in an accident with the hedge trimmers and cut his arm open right by his Wu-Tang tattoo and had to get stitches to patch it up.

We continued to volunteer at the Country Club a lot once I got back. They had the best sauces for the best chicken tenders that money could buy but they were of no cost to us and occasionally Buzz would let us stay in the spare house he had on the property. We had a great time working for Buzz. We weren’t using that often, we had money and we were in love what more could have mattered?

I continued to do some nude modeling on the side for cash and whatever else could bring in money. I would sometimes still even panhandle if I was just bored. But, the longer we stayed in Salisbury the more our drug habit progressed. The best thing about back then was how much of a team we were. We’d both hustle all day and we’d both contribute and there was little to no time for arguing.

Before we were told to move out of Jesse’s cousin’s house we got involved with Thelonius from the coalition for the homeless type of thing that Saliabury had going. Thelonius was a young, bright and caring kid passionate about helping the lives of homeless people. He was incredible. He’d pick me and Chris up to help us get our birth certificates, socials and eventually an ID so that we could get a job and get off the streets.

Thelonius really made a positive impact on our lives in ways that words don’t have. He used his personal vehicle and showed up off the clock to meet our needs and eventually I was able to get a job at Ollie’s.

We steadily stayed high and while we were high we were on top of a cloud filled with love for one another. He always made me feel like the most beautiful and important woman he’d ever seen and made sure to constantly remind me and shower me with love and affection, no matter who was around. I was overflowing with love for him, his body, face, eyes, soul and personality were everything I ever wanted.

We found a really nice, really secluded wooded area behind my job at Ollie’s and we pitched our tent there. Buzz took Chewie for us so he wasn’t in the smoldering heat of the summer.

I was doing really well up until the day I just wasn’t

It was right around my sister’s birthday in 2016 and on that day I had enough. I think I had the day off or at least I wasn’t at work. Chris’ family couldn’t have us come over to take a shower in a few weeks and we both smelled so bad and we had a few bucks extra so we got a hotel for the night at Salisbury’s Economy Inn

While Chris left to go cop the dope I called my sister. I told her about the condition I was in giving only small details to the extent of it all. It was enough to talk her into buying us a pizza to share for the night. I thought maybe my mind wouldn’t fuck with me so badly if I was full. But, the suicidal thoughts started raging through my brain. I took a shower. By the time Chris came home I was practically hysterical.

He got me to eat some pizza and to shoot some dope but it didn’t help. I wanted to die and I saw life for what it was and I hated everything I saw. I wanted no part in this Allie I had become. A sleasy, skinny, heroin junkie living in a tent without any friends or family in sight. I realized I was an addict. I realized a lot of things that night and I fucking hated what I saw.

Barefoot I started talking and shouting at myself and walking the streets. Chris was walking around like his dick was in his hands not even sure what to do because I had quite literally gone mad. I tried to walk into traffic but then turned my attention to the water tower.

I lost myself, utterly and completely. I was going to jump off the top of the water tower. I don’t really know how to relay the emotions I was feeling that night but I had every intention of ending my life that evening. Chris called the police and followed close behind me. I was so unpredictable in that moment he didn’t know what I was going to do next.

I just walked right up to the tower and grabbed onto the latter and started climbing and before I knew it I must have been a little over halfway up the thing before I snapped back into reality and my fear of heights brought me to my senses. I immediately was filled with so many regrets. An ambulance arrived and rescued me from me a bit more than I could chew.

Needless to say, I was brought to a hospital and was put on a 72 hour psychiatric hold at the local PRMC hospital downtown.

I never imagined I had a mental illness. I mean, I was quirky and everything but not mentally ill but after the me inside of me that showed itself that night I was open to opinions. They diagnosed me with Bipolar 1, OCD, and PTSD. I was given some pills to take and they were supposed to make my moods better. I was confused because this is the first time I ever had a “mood”.

I called my sister while in the hospital and told her I was using and I needed to get away from Salisbury but I wasn’t leaving without Chris and Chewie and in efforts to save the life I had she agreed to come up to Maryland to get us.

On the following Saturday Chris came to visit me in the hospital toting some Taco Bell for my pleasure but he had shot up some heroin probably right outside the hall before coming in. It was painfully obvious. He told me how beautiful I was and how much he loved me and I told him that it was time we were leaving and I’m sick of being on drugs and I’m changing my life around and bringing him with me whether he likes it or not.

The missions group from the church in Colorado Springs bought me a ticket to New Jersey where the carnival was and the owner, Morris bought Chris a ticket under the stipulation that he’d work off the debt.

Our bus broke down before we were able to even leave the state, at a truck stop. Any hopes into hiding Chewie from the bus driver went right out the window. Hours went by before Greyhound was able to send another bus driver for us. That bus took us to Amarillo, TX. I will always remember Amarillo as being the worst town I’ve ever visited in America. The people running the bus station were anything but hospitable. All together our layover between our bus breakdown and our stay in Amarillo ended up being a 9 hour additional layover because the ticket desk messed up our tickets. After a great deal of complaining, we were finally rewarded with two complimentary meal tickets for our inconvenience. Afterwards, Chris lost his wallet with his drugs inside and took it up with management to try to locate it and instead of offering us assistance he threatened to kick me off of the bus for having a fake service animal with me. The entire ordeal was unforgettable, to say the least.

When we finally did board our bus the route we had to take took us all the way through throughout Texas instead of heading north East towards New Jersey like our original itinerary had planned. The entire bus incident made our already long 56 hour bus ride into 156 hours of bus riding and layovers but we both just appreciated not having to experience withdrawal this bus ride. We had to appreciate the little things in life.

We arrived in Camden, NJ but, unlike the year before there was no heavy set lady putting Percocets in my apron. The carnival was a nice break from living the life of a drug addict but, before I knew it mine and Chris’ behavior was getting out of hand. It started with Chris acting out because he didn’t like the opinions my mother had about him so he lashed out and said some things to her and me that I found to be incredibly unacceptable and immature and I used his behavior to justify me flirting with guys I worked with on the show.

Our behavior towards each other and the arguing we started with each other is why we ended up leaving the carnival early. We had just left Asbury Park for Eatontown. We did set up for the rides and games and the first night on the show we got in an argument. I took my tent and pitched it under Red’s 5th wheel, walked to 711 and got a slurpee and filled it with half vodka. I was drinking so I didn’t have to focus on the reality that was my life at that moment. The next day I tried to patch it up but ended up sleeping in the back of Keith and Mary’s Jeep Cherokee and that next day the rumors flooded in to Chris about what drugs I was supposedly doing and with who I was doing them with.

Evidentially, yes I can’t have any space to yourself while working for a carnival because God forbid anyone sees you strike up a conversation with a person of the opposite sex. Apparently I was having sex with Keith and Mary’s son and snorting cocaine all night and when word of that got back to Chris he took it up with the main office and then they wanted to drug test me. Of which, I refused just because of the principles behind it all.

We argued all day until the show started and that’s when Chris decided to quit. He packed up all his things and took off leaving me and Chewie behind. I saw him leaving and I took my apron off and handed it to Rob with all my cash in it and I took after him. Packing up my stuff in record time and chasing him down.

Morris refused to pay us for the week even though it was the last day of the show so we had no money to our name, but that’s never scared it’s in the past and we were always able to make due. We hitched a ride back to Asbury Park, getting dropped off at the train station where they were doing a “Make Food Not Bombs” and after we ate a nice man allowed us to stay the night, and also helped us score some dope. We got high then formulated a plan to get us back to Salisbury.

Walking down the streets of Asbury Park, panhandling and eating some of the best pizza money could buy, at just $1 a slice. We got a phone call from Chris’ mom, who wasn’t doing okay. She had been up for a few days after ingesting some of what she thought was MDMA but was quite obviously methamphetamine. She was having a lot of the same side effects I was showing back in Colorado. Her mental status was being seriously affected. Tears welled up in my eyes as I could hear the fear and uncertainty in her voice as she cried out to Chris on the phone.

We ended up taking a train south to Cape May and once again, after panhandling a few bucks for our tickets, we boarded the Cape May Lewes Ferry to Delaware. From Lewes DE we walked a few miles until one of Chris’ friends, Jesse picked us up off the side of the road. We stayed at Jesse’s house for a few da

It was sometime in May out in Colorado, we were very high into the mountains where it still snows way into April, sometimes even May we would wake up to frost covered lawns.

We had very little money, one shitty government cell phone, no tent and everyone around us was a stranger.

After crying my little eyes out and exposing his friend Tom from helping us get badly addicted to meth and without even a seemingly worried response he dropped us off in downtown Pueblo. It hurts when you have “it” so bad that not even your father has any remorse or I’ll will about leaving his youngest daughter without any means of shelter or food, and none in the foreseeable future.

I’m not going to lie, those first few days out there were rough. That first night we spent wandering the streets searching for somewhere to lay our heads and we ended up in the middle of a tall grassed field spooning ever so close together in any attempts to keep warm. We had no blankets or anything so we bundled in our hoodies as best as we could. There was frost on the ground, we could see our breath and I could feel Chewie’s tiny body shivering against my bare belly.

The following morning we took an Uber from Pueblo to Colorado Springs, where the temperature was slightly warmer. We used what money we had left to purchase some food, a tent and a sleeping bag.

Outside of the Walmart pulls up a white Ford Bronco with a busted out rear passenger window. The driver, a man, asks us if we need a ride and after our miserable night we accept just to be somewhere safe and warm for a little bit. With no destination in mind we just said we needed to get Memorial Park.

After a few minutes it became no surprise to my own discovering this man also happened to be a meth addict. We ended up in that SUV, stuck with the man, for 4 whole days. I remember him pulling over on mother’s day and I called my mother to wish her a happy day and when I hung up he was juggling around knives and guns and all sorts of weapons. Whenever we went to suggest leaving he’d make a point to flash one of his guns or knives at us to make sure we knew we weren’t in control.

He had us driving all around town looking for some more meth to buy. I sold one of my cellphones at the eco kiosk at Walmart. One night he managed to convince Chris to have him pull over at a Dunkin Donuts parking while the two of them broke into a lot full of 18 wheelers to attempt to steal one of the batteries from the truck. After realizing how next to impossible it would have been to successfully grab a battery and make it back to the SUV without drawing attention to themselves, they returned back to the SUV.

After we were able to acquire some more meth the man became really scary. He started accusing us of stealing his weapons that were on his person the whole time. He’d pull over abruptly to do inventory after inventory of said weapons. He was just doing very unnecessary things to see if he could get a reaction out of Chris but he was definitely getting one out of me.

I started thinking of ways to escape because I was starting to lose faith that Chris ever was. We tried to leave a few times because we were tired and hungry, not to mention uncomfortable, but he wasn’t having it.

Finally his eyelids got heavy and he pulled over so we could all take a small nap. I was in the back seat with Chewie quietly gathering our belongings and getting ready to make our getaway.

I tapped Chris’ shoulder and made a motion towards the door to indicate that I was going to make a run for it and before I did I grabbed my knife and I slammed it inches deep in the meat of the man’s upper arm. Before he could properly react we opened our doors, grabbed as much as I could took chewie and made a run for it.

That first night on the streets of Colorado Springs all hopped up on meth and terrified for our well-being we found a ditch behind a bunch of department stores and we pitched our tent.

The next week after that was spent religiously panhandling near Memorial Park by 25. We’d make enough to eat and buy some meth. We had to keep a lookout to make sure the guy in the white Ford Bronco doesn’t find us.

The only plan we made was a mutual agreement to get back to the East Coast, nowhere in particular but I had to be within 300 miles of the Atlantic Ocean. We swore we were getting followed. How many people drive around in a white Ford Bronco with a back window busted out?

Just to make sure it wasn’t the guy we would go way way out of the way to find tent spots so secluded that you’d have to climb a small mountain at night to get to us. Somewhere we’d be able to hear someone coming from miles.

Finally, one day we got approached by a man who volunteered with a church ministry helping homeless youths and young adults get off the streets. This man really wanted to help but they were only able to buy me a bus ticket because I was a female I held top priority in their minds. Chris, having to find his own way made contact with Amusements of America and then we were heading to New Jersey to work the next carnival season.

We took turns sleeping under the seats on the bus. Clutching our stomachs, gasping in pain with every inch of our bodies aching with great intensity.

It was something I never wanted to experience again in my life.

The bus stations seemed to be more packed than anticipated. During our layovers we tried to find somewhere ANYWHERE that we could just lay down and stretch out, even if just for a few short moments. Our bodies felt like they were literally screaming at us to go lie down and rest. But, it seemed impossible.

We got yelled at by security for lying down and blocking the entrance to the men’s bathroom. Nothing was going right at all and we just wanted to die, because anything would’ve been better than to be left in this physical state for any longer

We had to try and get through these withdrawals and act as normal as we possibly could and to be honest I think the worst of it ended as soon as the bus made it to Colorado. We were able to keep our composure as my dad picked us up from the bus station but as soon as he pulled his van into the driveway of his single wide trailer and we went inside the first thing we did was ask where we could lie down. We must have slept 5-6 days straight, maybe even longer. Only getting up to use the bathroom. Unfortunately, using jet lag as an excuse to my recovering drug addict father wasn’t cutting it.

No matter how many times I denied it, I was maybe 130lb at the time, a whole 100lb smaller than I was the last time I saw my father and even though a significant amount of that weight was lost working for the carnival, I can only imagine how it looked.

I got a job working with Audrey in Pueblo as a customer service agent for AT&T, but the job only lasted maybe a week or two after training. Chris was able to get a job at Viktorios Pizza where I eventually got hired as a bartender / waitress. We were such a good team, working together

On February 28, 2016 Chris and I drove with Audrey into Pueblo to meet up with one of my old co-workers to bring me the newest addition to our family, Chewie. He was the tiniest little Jack Russell terrier Chihuahua mix with a brindle coat of fur on him. Cute as a button and maybe weighing a pound, if that. He was given to me for free because of his brindle coat. He was “too ugly” to sell, and I was more than happy to take him.

My dad had this friend who lived a few houses down from us, on the same street. His name was Tom. Chris had overheard my dad talking to this Tom guy about possibly buying some Dilaudid off of him. As soon as he saw an opportunity he was going to ask Tom if he could buy some off of him as well.

Coincidentally, this is where Chris and I got formally introduced to the Energizer bunny of all drugs — methamphetamine. Turns out, Tom did have some Dilaudid but what he also had was a new drug, one insanely cheaper than anything else we could get our hands on and Tom also had access to diabetic syringes so we could shoot it up.

I 100% DO NOT recommend using meth for the first time intravenously or at all for that matter, especially for the amount of meth we put into a spoon for a single shot and the frequency of our use. We’d go over to Tom’s house and do some light chores (pull weeds, hammer nails on his deck, help with little projects) and hed weigh us out an entire teener, 1.7grams for like maybe 20 minutes of work.

I really think the guy was just lonely and wanted someone to hang out with and hit his weird meth bong. But, eventually we’d start coming over mid and more and then I’d come over while Chris was at work. I mean, he was quite obviously hinting at trying to get in my pants and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t playing that to my advantage. I’d use the whole “I’m cute!” card so he’d share more of his drugs with me.

I never did sleep with him, though. I didn’t even kiss him or even touch him. I guess I just innocently flirted back and regretfully made him think that he may have a chance. He was a very large, handicapped man in his 50s, he had to know he never had a chance.

Nonetheless, once I started becoming noticably more fucked up than Chris he started putting 2 in 2 together and he was anything but amused by it. I was no longer allowed to go to Tom’s without him.

Our meth usage was becoming more frequent with bigger shots as time went on. Before long Chris was able to acquire some black tar heroin from one of the guys that used to work at Viktorios and we’d get some every do often. I was staying up for days at a time, not eating and I was rapidly depleting.

One day I had finally snapped when my dad and Audrey weren’t home. I was screaming at Chris about how hungry I was. I’m sitting with my knees pulled up to my chest leaned up against the washing machine just being belligerent and unconsolable. Chris didn’t know how to handle me in such a fragile state so he tried to make me so e french toast. He had to call out boss, Vicki and tell her he wasn’t coming in that day because I was on the verge of a complete breakdown. Our boss literally shows up at our house telling Chris that he needs to go to work and that she would take care of me. Chris, the poor thing was so overwhelmed he ended up cussing her out and we both lost our jobs.

My head is still not on straight. So I walked into the yard to try and calm myself down but end up in even worse hysterics. I grabbed a piece of rusty old fencing and used it to try and slash my wrists. I was begging, pleading, SCREAMING for Chris to call 911 for me because the suicidal ideations that were manifesting in my head that day were scaring the shit out of me. I ended up having to call an ambulance on myself because Chris refused to be a cop caller. I walked to the end of the road and waited for the police and ambulance to show up. Crying, I got up inside the ambulance and rode it to the hospital in Pueblo and from there I was sent to a detox facility called Cross Roads.

I stayed in detox for a total of 6 days. I cried for at least 4 of those 6 days. I did whatever I could think of to talk the nurses into letting me go, and eventually accepted that I wasn’t going anywhere until they let me.

After day 6 Chris and my dad picked me up from the detox and took me back home. I’m pretty sure I was shooting meth that very day once I got home. But, this time Chris had a plan. He got a few pills from Tom so we could take them to taper off the meth and then we’d ween ourselves off the opiates essentially feeling no withdrawal symptoms, at all.

Somehow I managed to lose the pills.

So our next attempt to get off the meth was to get some black tar heroin. We hit up the guy he used to work with, Evan. Unfortunately, his car broke down at the interstate and he was able to park it at the rest stop down the road. Trying to help the guy and his girlfriend out we snuck them into our bedroom window. We all made ourselves a shot and as they were leaving my dad woke up and caught them as they were sneaking out of the window.

Needless to say, my dad made us pack up our stuff and leave the very next day. He was no longer equipped to deal with the drama associated with me, my drug addiction and my suicidal behavior. Let alone me sneaking junkies into his house in the dead of the night.

It didn’t take long for my sister to get word that I did ketamine and decided she didn’t want us living there anymore. Even though I was distraught at the time, she was in every way justified for being that way.

TJ was able to stay behind and help my sister renovate the rest of the trailer. Chris and I decided to head back to Maryland for an opportunity to stay with his half sister’s mother, Donna’s house and his teenaged sister Delana. Donna owned a drywall company called T&D Drywall and offered him a full time position and I worked a couple times with him, too.

Looking back on it I wish we never went back to Maryland. When it comes to heroin, Chris was never able to stay sober long while there. He was so weak that being in Salisbury was the equivalent to being a kid in a candy store. Heroin was way too readily available and he had endless contacts from his fast to get them from.

It wasn’t maybe a week before we had a steady drug dealer or three that we could buy from depending on who was available and who could drive it out to us. Not before long we were shooting up four or five times a day, staying consistently high the entire day.

This was still really early in my addiction. Getting high with Chris was fun. It turned into some of the most intimate, affectionate and loving times for us. Heroin made me never want to take my hands off of him and he the same to me. He made me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world – the only woman he had eyes for.

I had no idea what I was getting myself into.

It wasn’t before long that Donna started noticing a change in our behavior and we started to burn some bridges and spoiling opportunities. She didn’t fire him but she didn’t want us to live under the same roof of her kids either, as any protective mom would do.

We crossed a line, bringing drugs into her home, around her children. She even found a syringe under the mattress after we left. We’re honestly so lucky that things ended the way they did.

We moved into a house owned by an adorable gay couple. There was Mike, a man in his 40’s that used to be an erotic dancer in his past life and Phil, a man in his 50’s that resembled a Hobbit and collected antiques and worked at Macy’s. They love blaring Adele and Taylor Swift at the crack ass of dawn while getting ready for work.

They lived in a beautiful Victorian home right on Park Ave near downtown. We rented out two of their upstairs rooms. One room, for lounging had vintage gay porn hanging in the walls and the other room for sleeping was entirely decorated with pink flamingos.

We were in too deep with the heroin at that point and if we stopped using we’d get incredibly sick, so we didn’t stop.

I became best friends with our drug dealer, Liz and while Chris was at work I’d ride around with her all day so I could shoot up when Chris wasn’t around, I’d bring shots so him while he was at work but I wasn’t honest about the amount of heroin I was actually using.

Liz came over one day while Mike and Phil were at work and she had a much stronger batch than we were used to. Chris let me do my shot first, which was probably the last time he ever did that, because within moments I fell out. I have my very first overdose.

Next thing I know I’m lying half naked in a bath tub. Chris hovering over me with a look of absolute panic on his face and Liz in the doorway with a useless, shocked expression on hers. Those were the looks of two people who thought i was going to die.

Not five minutes later Chris and Liz do their shots and Chris falls down the stairs, busting his face and Liz is slumped over in a chair with the needle still sticking out of her bicep.

After bringing in the new year it was becoming evident to everyone except us that we were on our last leg and it wasn’t before long that Chris finally lost his job at T&D Drywall. We were stealing antique nutcracker dolls from Mike and Phil and selling them to a man who buys antiques and costume jewelry.

We were a set of untrustworthy, thieving junkies.

So, I called up my dad who was living in Colorado and he agreed to take us in, not knowing of my new found addiction to heroin and Donna paid for our bus tickets to get there.

We experienced some record breaking, almost impossible to get through, excruciating withdrawals. It shouldn’t be humanly possible to be that uncomfortable experiencing so much physical pain from simply not taking a substance anymore but on a 56 hour long bus ride from Salisbury MD to Pueblo CO we withdrew from heroin

It’s not like I shot up heroin that one time and immediately it took over my life. No, I shot up heroin in the garage that day and then a few days later we snorted some and had a fun day shopping at the Salisbury Mall, and then that was it for a while.

Not too long after I hopped on a Greyhound bus after reaching out to my sister and finding out that she took over the mortgage for the Moon Lake house where we grew up. She needed some help after the last tenants left it in shambles. I was leaving early and in a month or so Chris and TJ promised they’d follow close behind.

Spending a month apart from Chris felt like I was going to snap. I didn’t realize how truly codependent I had become towards him. I didn’t want a moment to go by that he wasn’t replying to a text or answering a phone call.

While in Florida, away from Chris I’d drive from Moon Lake to Elfers whenever time permitted it and I spent hours busting out drywall with my bare hands, black mold everywhere. I tore down the window and frame in my old bedroom because the wood was rotting out. I wanted to accomplish as much as I could as quickly as I could. And I didn’t care how much additional damage I’d cause in the process. I definitely should have waited til it was last to bust out that back window.

That month apart seemed like an eternity. Spending my nights at Eddie’s (Evelyn’s), getting my picture taken by her and sending saucy photos to Chris. Video chatting every chance I could and most of all worrying that something bad was going to happen to Chris while I was away, not being able to do anything about it. That was literally always my concern revolving around Chris.

But, before I knew it he and TJ found someone on Craigslist’s ride share that was willing to drive them from Hebron all the way to New Port Richey.

They spent one night at Evelyn’s and the next day my sister dropped us all off in Moon Lake where we were to stay the duration of our visit.

We got a ton of stuff done while we were in Florida. They replaced parts of the roof when the new plywood and shingles. We replaced so much drywall, it seemed the more we replaced the more pieces still needed to be hung. We had spare drywall all over the house and we were constantly finding more little projects to start.

My sister even scored some super awesome bamboo slat flooring that we started laying down in the dining room and living room. Everything was going well until one night we were all bored so we reached out to an old friend of mine from high school and scored some ketamine. Little did I know, this person was also pretty good friends with my sister Camille.

The three of us had a fun time slipping in and out of a K hole

Winter quarters for the carnival consisted of a huge lot filled with broken and running carnival rides and food trucks as well as bunkhouses for the big and small show. I was given the grand tour then we hopped in the back of a heavy duty pickup truck, the kind big enough to tow one of the rides. We were going to Woodbridge, VA which was home of one of my favorite models Zui Suicide

I soon got acquainted with my new game supervisor, Terry Harris. Terry had lived on the road for many many years. She raised her family on the road. Her two sons Mikey and Keifer and her husband Bill. Her daughter and law and other son got in an accident the year before or I’d have met them, too.

My game was called the fishy fish. A game meant for children under the age of 5, you take a magnetic fishing pole and catch little magnetic fish in a small kiddie pool. Always a winner, pick any prize. Chris was assigned to multiple rides but I specifically remember him working Zero Gravity.

I set up mine and Terry’s game and immediately started working that day. Woodbridge went by really quickly and before I knew it we were already tearing it down and heading to Camden, NJ.

“I can play the game all night, right”, is what a heavy set old black lady asked as she slipped a decent amount of pills down the front of my apron. I didn’t know how to respond, so I did as little responding as I could. I just let her play my game all night. I let her wild little grand babies fish their little hearts out and they were able to collect every prize I had to offer. And that lady came back to play my game every night that week, bringing more pills with her every time.

Chris was absolutely ecstatic to have me come back to the bunkhouse at the end of the night to unload a bunch of Percocet and Xanax. I always tell people the first time I used drugs, I shot up. I always forget about my little time I had at the carnival snorting free pills from my apron. I had a line of carnies looking to find me to try and buy some after the word got out.

This was the first time I realized Chris may have had a drug problem before I met him.

And the problem didn’t end in Camden. The combination of Percocet and Xanax put me into a seizure which scared the shit out of Chris and I. And on top of all that, the big old black lady from Camden followed the carnival for three more towns before we were finally too far to follow. I was helping her sell to the carnies and Chris was spending his whole check on some more. That lady had to have at least 2 or 3 of every inflatable we had to offer but for some reason her grandbabies sure loved fishing, they were overjoyed with the simplicity of catching a fish with a magnet in a small kiddie pool.

When we ran out of drugs, I saw a side of Chris that I’ve never seen anyone have before. He just became like a small child being told no. He just walked off his ride, crying literal tears because he was no longer able to continue getting high. I was lucky enough to find a lonely Xanax in my pocket and convince him to get back to work. He regained his composure but upon returning to his ride he twisted his ankle.

It’s not the first time I could see what drugs can do to a person.

We spent the rest of the time out on the road  back to our normal and sober selves. We traveled all up and down New Jersey. I specifically remember going to a gorgeous little town called Ramsey, covered in flowers and floral trees. Not only that but it’s the town that Chris picked me a little dandelion off the side of the road and just as he helped me make a wish and blew off all the seeds a truck filled with his coworkers drives by poking fun.

Or the town we worked at outside of the Paramus mall where we bought some cool new Nike shoes at

Everyday that I spent with Chris I fell in love with him just a little bit more. That new relationship bliss you have, that mixed in with the exhilaration of being in a new town every week. It was indescribable. The more I learned about him, the more I fell in love.

The week of my birthday Chris was caught by one of my coworkers sneaking off to be with another girl, a townie. I was going to leave him right then and there, I even packed up everything I owned and got myself shit faced drunk with April and Red and a few of the other girls from the show. They all woke him up in the middle of the night pretending like they were going to fuck him up for me. They cheered me up and I spent the night in Eddie, the Janitor’s, Jeep.

The next day after he literally begged me on his knees to stay, I did l. We stayed working for the carnival until right before the 4th of July at Asbury Park and took the Lewes Ferry from Cape May to Lewes DE. Chris’ heterosexual life partner, Kevin Althouse, picked us up from the ferry and drove us to their hometown, Hebron which was right outside of Salisbury in Maryland.

They just drop me off at Chris’ step dad, Mike’s house. An hour or so later Chris comes back, stumbling out of the car and proceeds to vomit profusely under the tree in the front yard with all his brothers having a clear shot of the shit show he brought home.  They were so disappointed. I didn’t know what was going on.

He seemed delirious, almost drunk. I may not have known what was going on but his brothers did. He was high on heroin. All his brothers witnessing him on the verge of an overdose with his strange girlfriend looking lost and confused at the doorstep. I can’t imagine what was going through their minds. I didn’t know what a person on heroin looked like.

I brought him inside to the bathroom and he puked until he couldn’t anymore. I helped him into the tub and I bathed him while he kissed me and touched me all over telling me repeatedly how beautiful I was an how much he loved me. Eventually, he got to the part where he shot up heroin with his friend Kevin.

Heroin?!? Heroin is almost like a bad word, like it leaves this strange feeling in your gut just thinking about it. The idea of heroin genuinely scared the shit out of me. The name alone is enough for anyone to be like, “wow, no! I’d never touch that”

But, the next day Kevin and his wife Kristen come by with their kids for a pool party and even though I was scared and even though just the thought of doing a drug as powerful and addicting as heroin, it’s like I just needed to know.

I needed to know why my dad always chose drugs over his kids. Why Chris was choosing drugs now. Why this specific drug was taking the lives of so many and what could it possibly feel like to cause so much harm. How something could make you throw everything away in life just so you can feel instant euphoria.

So, I shot up some heroin.

Heroin was the best feeling I ever felt in my entire life. It felt so good everywhere. The euphoria was indescribable. I had to spend the entire day in the pool because if I got out I’d immediately start puking. The time we spent in that pool is a feeling I’d never truly experience ever again.. but, one of those memories that will always stick by me.

It’s like Chris was the only thing in the entire world. I loved him more on that day then any previous day. It felt like we were connected at a whole different level and I wanted to feel this way forever.

There was something about being in the open water on a boat. We spent the next few nights in each other’s company, watching the ever so beautiful sunsets and rises being with the perfect person. I told him I wanted to pack my bags and run away with him and he said yes!

I drove straight to Port Richey to the house I was living at with Tiffany. I found an old traveling backpack in my dad’s old camping gear and I filled it up, taking only a few of my sentimental items. Though Tiffany was very clearly upset with me leaving, she didn’t seem particularly surprised by my decision.

By the time I was ready to drive back to Chris his brother and I had taken a bus to Homestead because their mother had gotten into a fight with her boyfriend and she was arrested for domestic violence.

Things not going according to plan seemed like a normal occurrence for these two. They decided we would be spending the winter in the Ocala National forests which would make for the perfect timing to attend the annual Ocala Rainbow Gathering. We made our way to Astor, FL and drove my car deep into the woods until we found a good camp site and pitched our tents.

Those were some pretty magical nights of playing Uno, making love under the stars and learning one another in every capacity. I used to write in my journal every day so I could remember the beauty in getting to know each other.

Once the Gathering was starting to get set up, we moved out camp closer to what they referred to as Welcome Home. Welcome Home was a long entryway lined with old head hippies who welcomed all attendees to the subcamps which were Good Morning, Vietnam! that served pancakes and make black drop coffee in the morning. There was another camp that had beautiful topless women serving shroom tea and another one filled with schwilly kids (dirty kids who drank and used drugs) and my absolute favorite Mama and the Babies which was a more laid back and less troublesome atmosphere.

We set up our camp between Welcome Home and Mama and the Babies and we referred to it as Hydration Station. Every day or so I’d drive into town and fill up massive water jugs or mini water buffalos so we could help hydrate passerbys water to and from camps.

Chris and I didn’t really venture out much. We entertained guests, played a ton of Uno, watched programs with TJ on our little phones. The air was crisp, the nights excruciatingly cold. It wasn’t uncommon for Chris and I to decide, “fuck this” and warm up in the car.

It took me until Valentine’s Day because I was too shy and unsure of myself. But, I finally got the courage enough to ask Chris if I was his girlfriend. I wrote the question to him in a notebook like I was in high school and he replied, “well, duh!”

We got our tax returns not too long after that. I claimed Michael on my taxes and got a nice little chunk of change back. We were getting pretty burnt out from being in Ocala and decided to head to Denver, CO to stay at a commune in the city.

Chris’ brother TJ, spent years previous to me meeting him as a train hopping, dirty crust punk. Hitchhiking across America and hopping on and off trains as they passed by.  He had this plan where we’d be spending the bare minimum on gas on our way out west by doing something called gas jugging. Gas jugging is when you park your car outside of a busy gas station like a Pilot or Love’s with an empty gas can and collect donations. I’m not going to lie I was rather pessimistic about it myself, but sure enough I barely came out of pocket for gas our entire trip.

Marti Gras 2015 was on February 17 and we just happened to drive by as it was popping off so we decided to make a pit stop. We walked throughout downtown and made our way to Bourbon Street where Chris ordered him and I the famous Grenade drink. We peed down alleys and after finalizing my investigation of the city I let TJ drive us out of there because I was feeling the buzz.

We slept in Walmart parking lots because they’re the safest places to sleep overnight with all their security cameras and heavily lit parking lots. TJ would always take his sleeping bag and sleep outside since they were below 0 sleeping bags, even in the snow all the way to Albuquerque, NM.

Right at the New Mexico/Colorado border my car decided it was time to take a shit on us. On the highway, stranded I came up with the brilliant idea to call AAA and have them tow us to Denver — 300 miles. I was allowed to get towed 100 miles a day and 300 miles total. So day one we spent in Pueblo, day two in Colorado Springs and then our final destination to Denver. It worked out perfect!

In Denver, we stayed in a duplex type of home with a large basement the size of the whole house. I was able to junk my car for $250, without the title. In the house we had CJ and Terrance upstairs with Scrawberry and Laura Love who was pregnant and her little toddler, Tranquil running around. Down in the basement was a makeshift bedroom for Chris and I, TJ, two other hippy guys, the young lesbian couple and the young southern runaway couple that had a baby on the way. In the duplex over we had the other Laura with her two little girls and the owner. We definitely had a full house. It was snowing outside with small blizzards every few days.

This is where I learned how to panhandle. We used the money from my taxes and from scrapping my car to pay for our room and board and marijuana habit. I’d hold signs that read, “betcha can’t hit me with a cheese burger” and “hungry, broke traveling folk” and I had the time of my life

One morning there was a bunch of commotion upstairs in the bathroom. There was apparently someone, unresponsive in the bathroom, locked inside. Both of the pregnant ladies had already been waiting a long time before deciding to grab some help. From outside the porch Skrawberry cracked open the bathroom window and weaseled himself inside.

One of the cute lesbian dirty kids from down in the basement had shot up heroin and laid motionless and her body the shade of blue I will never be able to forget.

Chris and I jumped into action, he hurried and called 911 and I ran over to attempt CPR. As I squeezed her nose and blew a forceful breath into her lungs, I felt the air escaping her once compressions started. She was dead, and probably had been for a while now. I couldn’t save her, no one could. Her blue, lifeless body and the sound of the air escaping her as the air I pushed into her immediately billowed out of her, as fast as I pushed it in. That memory will never leave me.

I believe this was the first real traumatic event in my adult life. I spent days afterwards experiencing intense panic attacks and crying spells. Laura, the mother of the two girls nextdoor performing crystal therapy and white magic to cure my anxiety.

Chris and I decided it was time for us to move on and we started planning our way back East to join the carnival that he worked for before he met me

In April of 2015 we took a Greyhound bus to Florence SC where Amusements of America held their winter quarters.

“It’s a frightening thought, that in one fraction of a moment, you can fall in the kind of love that takes a lifetime to get over.”

I was pushing 240lb and just started to find a femininity within myself and Chris knew exactly how to make me feel gorgeous. He made lustful comments about my voluptuous lips and always reminded me about the curve revealing panda dress I wore on the night we met.

November 19, 2014 was the day I met my soulmate. We spent a good hour or so just walking aimlessly around the Tarpon Springs sponge docks. We just talked and got to know one another. He came off so mysterious, charming and sophisticated by this mystical mystery man from Maryland.

He just left Salisbury, Maryland the year before and traveled with the carnival with his older brother. I, instantly, wanted to know everything about him. He bought a strawberry cheesecake from Hellas Cafe for his brother Terry (TJ) and I smoked a blunt with him in the Publix parking lot before sharing a long, passionate simple kiss.

At that moment I fell completely and utterly in love with him.

He didn’t make it easy for a girl falling head over heels to keep up with. He and his brother rented a room out in the ghetto of St Petersburg, FL and I was able to move out of Michael’s mom’s house and into a room at Tiffany’s new house off of Ridge and Congress. I started working for Circle K and every moment I wasn’t stuck working I’d make the 45 minute drive out to see him

We met up at Starbucks and I had my first ever coffee from there and he’d always remind me of how jittery and geeked out I got on it. We’d go back to his tiny room and cuddle on the make shift bed on the floor made out of old couch cushions.

It didn’t take long before the house they rented the room from got raided by the police. TJ got arrested for possession of marijuana and they weren’t able to find the wax I sold them. After I picked TJ up from the police station they decided it would be best if they left the state.

I eagerly volunteered to drive them up there, determined to spend as much time as possible with Chris. After dropping them off I assumed I’d never see him again.

And I tried desperately to move on from my heartbreak. But, it wasn’t long before I was hearing from him again. He called to see if I could pick him up from Georgia and drop him off in the Ocala National forests. Something told me I wouldn’t be saying goodbye to him for a while now.

When I got there I got the surprise of meeting Chris and TJ’s mother, Malinda. She had a falling out with a guy she was seeing and she was just a few miles down the road. The adventurous lifestyle certainly ran in the family.

I spent most every day that I didn’t have to work driving up to the Ocala National forests — sleeping under the stars and falling absolutely in love with him. Memorizing, staring, listening and being completely in awe of him. There wasn’t a single thing about him I didn’t adore, he was perfection in my eyes

Before I knew it they had come up with a new plan to get to Islamorada in the Florida Keys, so I brought them.

My father got released from prison just as I was entering Middle School at Gulf Middle. I immediately moved in with him to beacon woods on Ogalala Street. My brother and sister stayed behind with my mother. Not long after I moved in with him, my father met his next wife- Audrey. My codependent behavior really wasn’t having their relationship. I was monstrous in my attempts to break them apart leading to their eventual marriage on February 14, 2004.

During my teen years I was diagnosed with Poly Cystic Ovary Syndrome. Irregular periods, uneven weight gain, facial hair, gender confusion and an almost inability to be able to conceive a child. It’s a hormonal issue that affects testosterone levels making them higher than my estrogen levels. After going through many phases growing up I was always suffering from a lot of uncertainty about who I was. There was my Eminem phase, my goth Hot Topic phase, my super punk rock phase then my hippy phase. I never knew who or what I wanted to be. I drilled myself into the church, I joined the Christian club in school, I attended Bible study and went on summer camps dedicated to God.

Right around my senior year in high school I think is when I started showing signs of bipolar disorder. I was so incredibly impulsive, and very easily peer pressured because more than anything I wanted people to like me. Anthony Marra, a friend I went to middle school made his way back into my life during my senior year, along with Scott Show, Anthony Scott and Jorge Alverado. I was listening to feminist punk rock, sporting a multicolored mohawk and stinky patch covered black skinny jeans. I stopped showing up for church events and I was learning new things in a life full of drinking beer, smoking pot and saying, “Fuck the System – Equality for All!”

I graduated high school May 23, 2009 and I was enrolled and starting classes before my 18th birthday. My mom worked as an admissions representative for ITT Technical Institute in Tampa where she managed to convince all three of us kids to sign up for an Associates degree program for Visual Communications aka graphic design.

I’d go back and forth from Brandon, where my mom’s boyfriend Tom was letting us all live while we were in school back to Moon Lake where all I wanted to do was drink Natural Ice and Sailer Jerry smoking a fat Game blunt with my friends. Scott was renting a room from my dad and all my friends lived in my house or were there pretty much every day.

I lost my virginity when I was 18 to one of my best friends in a very raunchy vomit covered disgusting session in the back of a closet in my sister’s old bedroom. I remember Biggie Smalls – Juicy playing in the background. Just a few short weeks later I got my first refund check from funds not spent by the Pell grant. It was over $2,000 and I used that money to drop out of school and to move into a shed in Tiffany’s parents front yard while I went to Marchman Tech for Screen Printing.

I remember being so scared. I came home from school one day and no one was home and the house was all locked up. My stomach was in excruciating knots and I started bleeding from my snatch. I passed out, I’m not sure if it was the blood or the pain or if I just had such a bad panic attack I didn’t know how to handle it. When Tiffany’s parents came home her mom knew I had a miscarriage. I was made to call my mom, pack my shit and leave. So I did.

I got back into ITT Tech to finish my degree and I only went home weekends when I wasn’t in class. I’d get black out drunk and pass out in weird places, I’d numb myself from the feelings I felt my whole life of just being completely out of place and to fit in nowhere. I had friends, I finally had a group of people who made me feel loved and wanted. And it was a great feeling.

I was able to get a car and moved to Shady Hills with Anthony and Jorge while I worked and continued going to school. It wasn’t shortly after that when I met Michael Joseph Russell. He was weird and I was weird so naturally everyone thought we’d be a good couple. It was no time before he convinced me to move in with him at his mother’s house in Spring Hill.

Michael was locally famous in Spring Hill and still is to this day for his sign holding, head banging, show that he does on the street corners of Mariner and Spring Hill Drive. He liked to lick people’s faces and be so off the wall that he managed to get the attention from everyone. Good or bad. I had been so fat and awkward that he was the very first person I ever really dated. I was surprised and thrilled to not feel like I’d be staying alone forever. Michael and Kati Brand became the only two people I hung around with. I stopped drinking and just smoked my weed and I stayed out of trouble. I drove to school and I came home or went to Kati’s to tend to the horses or the garden. My life felt great. Nice and simple.

I graduated from ITT Tech around May of 2012. Not long after I graduated my father got me and Michael a traveling circus job for Piccadilly Circus based out of Sarasota Florida. We’d travel all over America just a week or so ahead of the show and plaster posters and hand out free kid’s tickets. Wed even get a few adult tickets to barter for food, tattoos, movie tickets or whatever else we could get our hands on. We drove all the way to New Hampshire and Maine then all the way to Colorado and South Dakota. It was the adventure of a lifetime! On September 24, 2012 I married Michael in Denver, CO. I don’t think I married him out of love, maybe it was to piss my parents off or maybe it was just another nonsense impulse decision I make so often in life but we got hitched. Shortly after we married we were let go and we headed back home to his mom’s in Spring Hill.

Our relationship was pretty much like hanging out with a good friend. We didn’t like the same music, but we definitely enjoyed watching programs and movies. Most days were spent just sitting outside under the garage with our laptop watching something while I rolled a few fatties to smoke. I got a job working seasonally for Spirit Halloween and I enrolled myself into school at a local Medical Career school for the associates in Medical Assisting. I still went and saw Kati at the farm with her son Sebastian and I was feeling so content in life.

My grandmother, Dana died from double lung cancer on December 17, 2013 right after my sister and I went to visit her. Grandma was a huge part of my childhood. She was the reason we had a birthday and Christmas to look forward to presents and she’d cook an incredible Thanksgiving meal. She bought the house in Moon Lake for my dad to raise us in and always made sure her grandbabies were taken care of. The first loss I ever experienced in life.

In or around October 2014 Michael and I decided it was time to split up. I had lost all interest in being in a relationship with him and became downright mean to him on a regular basis and every other day I was picking a fight with him. I didn’t like the person I was when I was with him. But, I hadn’t anywhere to go so I continued to live at his mother’s house til the end of November. When we split up I helped Michael set up a dating profile and not long after I ended up making myself on on OkCupid.

One of the very first people to message me was a gorgeous man named Chris Willey who spoke of traveling and carnivals and adventures I could only dream of.