on turning 25....

Since I’m not going to write about every birthday in my 20’s…here’s a quick run-down of the ones between the ages of 20-24…

21: I turned 21 in Jackson with family and close friends. We ate at the newly opened Julep and afterwards I enjoyed my first legal drink at Musiquarium with my bff, Cath.

22: I honestly can’t remember this birthday. I imagine I was in Jackson. Maybe I threw a party at my house on Hazel street?! Any memories from anyone that might have been present?

23: I believe I turned 23 with some friends in Clinton, MS.

24: I remember this birthday pretty well. A crew of us headed down to Hattiesburg, MS to hear our friends play (Goodman County) at the Thirsty Hippo. I remember a lot of drama occurred. Paul got slapped in the face. I ended up in tears (that was normal). And then the next day, it was all good again. I got a Polaroid camera for that birthday and I did have a ton of pictures from that night. Sadly, I think I deactivated my first facebook account and thus, all the pictures I had acquired, were permanently deleted.

This brings us up to my 25^th…

I’ve been thinking and re-thinking about how to present this next birthday.

I’m still friends with a lot of people that were present at that birthday party and do not want to throw anyone under the bus nor incriminate anyone but myself.

This is going to be a challenge. But here we go….

On Turning 25.

I was in a relationship off and on for at least 3-4 years during my early 20’s. It was a very unhealthy and codependent relationship and although I harbor no hard feelings about that relationship in general, I used the end of that relationship to fuel my drinking and drug use to an all-time high.

 Please don’t misunderstand me. It wouldn’t have mattered who I was in or out of a relationships with….my alcoholism and drug addiction was on the rise and I used every rhyme and reason in the book to play the victim role.

I moved back to Meridian when I was 23 with a newly procured degree from Belhaven in Humanities/Art History.

 I held several random jobs that first year. One was helping open this great little market that is now a huge success in Meridian. I also started teaching yoga at Laughing Llama…..things were looking up although I still had no intention of staying in Meridian for longer than a year.

I had also decided to go back to school to acquire the prerequisites for Occupational Therapy school (I was 24). I started taking A&P at MCC…worked my butt off for the summer semesters and did really well. and then things weren’t going so well in all my Fall classes and I promptly dropped out about 3 weeks before finals.

 I was failing everything I was taking. I got reprimanded for plagiarizing a paper in a psychology class and took an F for it. They also notified the college about it.

 My professor didn’t understand what was going on. She called me into her office and said, “You are my brightest student…you have the highest grade average in the class….and you intentionally plagiarized this paper?!”.

I had no defense. I was embarrassed and ashamed and the guilt about that didn’t go away until recently.

Why did I drop out and why did I plagiarize that paper?

Because I was too busy partying to pay any attention to anything of importance. I also managed to get into this “rut” and I never knew how to get out of it. I would start off each day with really good intentions and a desire to do right…but by mid-afternoon/evening of every day….I was drunk and loaded. I honestly thought I was choosing this lifestyle. I wasn’t cut out for school, I would tell myself. I wanted to live this alternative lifestyle that left me with nothing but an achy body, depleted spirit, and watered down brain.

One day close to Christmas, I met a guy in a bar.

I went home with him that night and within a week we were “dating”. (by the way, that’s how I rolled…..never even phased me…never occurred to me this was an unhealthy behavior).

This relationship escalated my drug use to a place it had never been before.

I am NOT saying that this was anyone's fault but mine. It just happened to occur simultaneously with the beginning (and end) of this relationship.

The use of my all-time favorite drug, cocaine, was at an all-time high.

For my 25^th birthday, the said boyfriend and I traveled over to Jackson to spend it with my friends. We ate at Keifers (except I wasn’t really inclined to eat during that particular time in my life) and then we ended up at some random person’s house and I still, to this day, have no idea whose house it was nor how we got there.

I remember there were a ton of people there. I remember there were really close “good” friends…and several other “druggy” friends. I remember feeling really torn over the diversity of this party because some of them did drugs and some of them did not. But, I quickly got too obliterated to care.

All I remember is that there was lots of my favorite type of drug, card playing, drug dealers playing cards with us, guns, heated debates….and driving back to Meridian on zero sleep and more fucked up than I can even began to describe.

Just so you know, not everyone at that party knew what was going on. I feel confident that when some of them read this, they will have had no idea that’s what was going on. And the girls in the picture with me were not, in any shape, way, or form, related to any of the illegal material that was going on that night.

Happy Birthday, Jennifer!

You almost snorted your way into heaven that night. Or would it be hell…..hmmm…..

5 months after my 25^th birthday party I landed in my first treatment center (fancy word for rehab).

Things went down-hill really fast.

And I was really tired.

I had been fired from numerous jobs, quit everything of importance, lost my best friend (as in, she cut me out of her life), my family wasn’t speaking to me, my siblings were embarrassed of me, I was so depressed and I had no idea what was wrong with me.

I went to several psychologists….and finally one of them said, “Jennifer, do you think you have a substance abuse problem?”.

“maybe” was my reply.

And she said, “I think you do. Would you do yourself a favor and come in for in-patient treatment?”

And at that time, I was so embarrassed of who I had become… I didn’t know what to do or where to go…..i was so paranoid that I wouldn’t even go in the grocery store for fear that I would see people I knew….i was scared they all knew what a huge fuck-up I was……and so I said yes—I would go in for in-patient treatment.

And I would like to tell you that from that day forward, my life changed and things got better.

But that’s not what happened.

I was in and out of treatment for the next 2 years.

I lost even more jobs. I lost even more people. I was evicted from my first apartment; I had drug dealers looking for me because I owed them money…..

It was a nightmare.

So that, in a nutshell, is the story of my 25^th birthday.

I’m happy to inform you that from here on out, the story gets better. The next birthday story will be filled with hope and joy and redemption.

But it’s true, sometimes you have to go through hell before you realize that there’s another option.


That's the end of my 25th birthday story.


*It's really important for you to know that I don't blame anyone for the course my life took. It's not any of my ex-boyfriends or friends fault. I am (and was) fully responsible for my actions and my life. No one made me do anything. I chose to live this lifestyle. 

*It's also really important for you to know that I genuinely love all the people that have come in and out of my life over the past 30 years. Especially the ones during my 20's. Every ex-boyfriend and every friend that has come and gone (and more have stayed than gone) meant a lot to me. They still mean a lot to me. And I have a special place in my heart for the ones I was closest to during this time period in my life.