The Good Time Girl.

 Wine Is good for the soul. Beer quenches thirst. Liquor brings about the beast. Anger kneels at the door, ring in hand. “Stay with me and I promise you a lifetime of uncertainty.

It has been a while since I’ve written. I ran out of things to say. Mentally worn out. Emotionally Unhinged. Pockets running on empty. Is there anybody out there? It’s feeling kind of cold. There was a time, a long time ago my life had one direction; one purpose. Never let the good time go.

The first time I drank myself silly, my eyes flickered in the fluorescent lighting. Parental judgement hovering. At fifteen, three hours away from home, staying with a friends family, I thought it would be a great idea to drink an Ever-clear filled water bottle handed to me by a complete stranger and not almost die. I can remember the evening clearly as they haunt my black out dreams. And yet what I remember isn’t half of what actually happened. A scene straight out of a 7th Heaven episode, you know the one where the character ends it with a PSA as a self help phone number flashes on the screen. Clearly I never called.

The twentieth time I drank myself silly, a black eye looked back at me in the mirror. Still, to this day no clue of how it ever got there. I masked the pain with more drugs & alcohol as I rocked the night away. Arriving to work the next day straight out of a UFC fight as if nothing had happened. Was my lifestyle that important to me? If my twenties was a wave, the alcohol was my surfboard. I paddled though sexcapades, betrayal, turbulence, binging, tears and violence. One tequila, two tequila, three tequila, whore.

By the umpteenth time I drank myself silly. I grew weary. And the puke now dried up. That girl, the good time girl she was worn out. Her light, no battery. The late nights become repetitive, and the people find new people. The world had gotten darker, the times have gone away.

Drinking led me to riding in cars with boys. Hemorrhaging after taking an eight ball to the face. Chasing days as if it never reset. Sleeping when I should have been awake. From the backseat driver’s perspective it was a pitiful look. You know the one who loves to criticize your every move, but never offers to drive. They make you feel small about your decisions, as they ride along.

These past few months shook me to my core. Even with three souls sharing my living quarters, I felt too much alone. Like I was missing someone I had never met. Today feels like deja vu. As if my whole life, the crazy, the ugly, the good, the beautiful led me here. Where my old self meets the new self.

The war has begun.

Will it make me a bore? Probably. But until I find my footing again. You know drinking without blacking out, I have to bid that life farewell. Here’s to hoping I fill the silence with opportunities that build me not destroy me.

Let us “Raise the glass to your weaknesses. May they become armor in the fight of your life.”


Love More, Peace More and Roar More.

Your Positive Penny Spirit Guidess, 


Every day the sun rises, Every day the sun sets. Some days the sun hides. Some days the sun shines. Not every day is perfect. Not every day is guaranteed. But every day alive. Is a day to be with glee.


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