on turning 29...

Before I launch into my final birthday story I want to say thank you to all the folks who have sent me messages and emails telling me how I’ve touched their lives and how proud they are of me. 

Thank YOU for even taking the time to read this silly blog.

 And thank YOU for sticking by my side through thick and thin. We all have a story to tell. I hope one day, you’ll tell us yours.


If you missed part 1 and 2 click here and here.

When I began this I certainly had no intention of telling parts of my life story through my birthdays. It just sort of happened that way on its own.

So, to catch you up quickly…..

When I got out of rehab in the summer of 2007, I quickly packed my bags and moved to Nashville, TN. I was adamant that I get out of Meridian—that Meridian and the people in it were the problem. Not me. I also convinced myself (one month out of rehab) that I was not an alcoholic—just a drug addict.

 And So, I began to drink again.

I turned 26 in Nashville, TN. I lived there all of a glorious 8 months…….was fired from 3 jobs within 6 months (record breaking, I know) and my drinking was again, out of control. I wasn’t using any drugs at this time—just copious amounts of alcohol. I drank on the job, I drank myself to sleep every night…and I started to drink earlier and earlier on in the day. I thought I was just (again) lonely and depressed (and of course I was DUE to the amount of alcohol I was consuming).

I moved back to Meridian a few months after my 26^th birthday.

For my 27^th birthday, I drove up to Nashville to spend it with a guy (musician) that I was sleeping with seeing. I don’t remember those 3 days at all. I do remember I lost my iPhone and on the drive back home, I began to experience the beginning of alcohol withdrawals. Those are the worst kind, by the way. I don’t remember very much from that birthday.

All I DO know is that shortly after I moved back to Meridian, I began doing drugs again—this time it was worse than ever.

I was honestly loaded 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. When I say “loaded”…I mean that I was always on a substance. I was on uppers during the day (Adderall, cocaine), alcohol during the afternoon/evenings/ and Xanax in the wee morning hours when I would want to crash from all the speed I was doing. Repeat that cocktail over and over and there you have it—that was my life in a nut shell.

My personal life was a disaster.

 I did things I never imagined I could do. There are certain events that happened that I will take to my grave with me. Looking back, it honestly seemed like a nightmare that would never end.

When I got fired (picking up on a pattern here?) from a job that I really loved, my boss said to me,

“Jennifer, I really like you. I think you’re amazing and talented and brilliant—but I think you have a substance abuse problem”.

I looked at her and just shook my head.

I had “accidentally” missed work for a week because I ended up at the beach seeing Widespread Panic with a guy I met doing blow. Classy, I know.

At that point, I knew the jig was up again—time to go back into treatment.

This time, I called around different treatment centers—I thought I really wanted it this time—and to some extent I did.

I ended up in a 3 month treatment center in Columbus, MS.

 I did really well the first few months there but got kicked out a few days before I was supposed to “graduate”. The details of why I got kicked out aren’t near as exciting as you might think. The rules were exceptionally strict and I just didn’t follow them to a T.

BUT, it is important for me to tell you that I had convinced myself during treatment that although I wouldn’t drink or do drugs when I got out—I was determined to only do mushrooms. Because they were natural. (this is bizarre rational, by the way but it made perfect sense to me).

So, in a way—I just wasn’t ready to quit using substances that changed the way I felt.

And as soon as they kicked me out, I was drunk within the hour.

I honestly don’t remember the month after that.

I do remember that I stayed more fucked up than ever before. I was doing crystal meth/loads of downers/and literally wandering around not having any clue where I was.

My parents were at a complete loss. They had no idea what to do with me. I had no idea what I wanted. I remember my dad asked me, “Jennifer—what exactly do you want to do with yourself—your life?”

And I remember saying to him,

“I just want you to give me a shot so I can go away in peace”.

I was literally convinced that the only way for me to find and or know peace was to slip out of this world.

And with the amount and combination of drugs I was using, it almost happened.

The next day, my parents kicked me out of their house. A move they probably should have made years before.

They told me they had found a half-way house in Jackson I could move into or I could continue to live off of couches—bumming around and doing drugs.

I remember being pissed off.

But I packed my car full of my belongings (which wasn’t much, by the way) and I drove to Jackson. I had always said after college that I would NEVER live in Jackson again. The saying is true—you really should never say never.

I had no really intention on staying sober. I really had no intention on living. But something happened on the drive to my new home—I started crying. I literally broke down driving to Jackson and I prayed—for the first time in years. And I asked God for help (as corny as that sounds).

And I don’t know what really happened—most people call it a spiritual experience—but I am so grateful to tell you that I have not had a drink or a drug since that fateful day on September 8, 2009.

I lived in that half-way house for 6 months. I then moved out and started school—back on the track for Occupational Therapy.

In February 2011, I was accepted into OT school and the rest is history.

For my 28^th birthday, my new friends in sobriety threw me a huge surprise party. It made me feel so damn special. Especially since I was so new to it all. I will never forget that birthday—Thanks again guys for loving me until I learned to love myself.

Last year, for my 29th, I celebrated with a few close friends at Spice Avenue. It was quiet and sweet and quaint. Nothing like my 25^th (thank god).

And there you have it.

My journey through my 20’s.

I honestly have been so giddy lately when I think about my upcoming birthday on Saturday. I’m really, in all honesty, very excited about turning 30. I’m excited about a new year—a new decade—another chance—just everything.

For those of you who have been with me for the long haul—there really are no words to say to let you know just how much you mean to me and just how grateful I am for you.  

To my mom, dad and siblings—

You all saved my life.

Thanks for that.

Because today, I’m really really happy to be alive. 

(both pics were taken last year on my 29th birthday)

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. 

this is what happened when i decided to play God....

I had a meltdown.

3 days into school and I fell apart.

I was crying myself to sleep only to wake up to tears.

I forgot what this feels like.

I was really close (in my head) to going to the hospital and asking them to admit me for an indefinite amount of time. If they asked me “what for?” I was going to tell them that I just can’t do this anymore.

What is “this”? you may be asking (probably you aren’t but just in case)

“This” is “Life”.

I just didn't want to do it anymore.

Luckily, I have a dear friend who called me over and fed me tomato soup (I was in my pj’s at 5pm) and put everything into perspective for me. She ran through the last few weeks of my life and mentioned all the newness and change it’s brought….all the responsibility it’s brought…all the stress it’s brought….and suddenly I didn’t feel so crazy.

I am genuinely over-whelmed. When I got back to Jackson after a 4 week break, I hit the ground running. And I took care of everyone but myself.

See, not only am I an alcoholic and addict, I’m also a codependent.

 I feel responsible for other people’s happiness.

I’ve gotten a gazillion times better in the past few years but there are still a few folks who can tug on my heart-strings and then BAM—it’s back. My need to take care of others, to put others happiness before my own, to feel responsible for someone else’s well-being, feeling guilty and remorse for not doing more…..yeah……codependency is its own evil in and of itself.

The truth is that nothing is really wrong. School is a little over-whelming but I’ll get through it just like I’ve done the past several semesters. One test at a time. One class at a time….it will all be a-ok.

I’m not responsible for others happiness nor do they want me to be. My job is to listen and be there for them. I don’t have the power to “fix” anything. When I take that on I’m basically saying I’m God and I have the power to fix you. And we all know that I’m not God and I don’t have that power (although I have tried exhaustively for years…..trust me when I say I am a pro at this).

You know…..the truth is that I can’t do it all.

But I can do some.

When I got home from my friend’s house that night I felt the weight of the world drop off my shoulders. And I felt a little more like myself.

There are 2 things that I’ve failed to look at these past few weeks and their absence  made my meltdown so much worse….those things are…

Acceptance and Gratitude.

I didn’t accept certain things in my life. I’m some-what (okay, maybe more than some-what) of a control freak.

And instead of looking at what I do have and the fact that helping others today is a BLESSING……I chose to let my ego get the best of me and decided that I could take on the weight of the world…..

We all know how that turned out;)

I hope in the future I remember this. I probably won’t. but, maybe I’ll remember a little so that next time I won’t go so long without asking for help.

I am grateful for the fact that I can deal with issues like this today without drugs or alcohol.

I’m grateful that it doesn’t take me months or years to start correcting a problem.

I’m grateful that today, I have a choice. To breathe. Or to hold my breath.

I think I’ll start choosing to breathe more often;)