Running Scared_Sequel to Special Delivery by S Cinders

Author:S Cinders [Cinders, S]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: S. Cinders
Published: 2018-07-01T16:00:00+00:00

I COULDN’T SEE WILL anymore through the tears, “I’m just so fucking sorry.”

And when he wrapped me in his arms, I melted into him and sobbed. Not only for the horrible things that I had done but because of the people that I had hurt. And now Will knows just how awful I really am.

CHAPTER 14 – Shay

Step 10: Continuing to take personal inventory and admitting when one was wrong.

There was two slip ups when I was on the inside. Drugs are rampant in the system. And it isn’t hard to get between the dirty guards and high rollers that walk around the place as if they own it instead of are being confined to it.

To combat what government officials knows it’s going on, or perhaps because of some well-intentioned do-gooder on the outside, the government does offer an addiction recovery program for convicts.

Honestly, I started going to the meetings to get out of free time in the yard. As strange as it sounds, I didn’t think I deserved to go outside even in lockup. I wasn’t through with punishing myself, although I didn’t realize it at the time.

I wasn’t eating well, and certainly wasn’t taking care of myself. I had resigned myself to die because that is what I deserved—or so I thought. I remember walking into that first meeting and hearing some of the other inmates crying. It was strange to me, these emotions that they were feeling so deeply.

I couldn’t remember the last time I had felt anything that deeply.

But then I remembered what I had done to Mandy. Sure, I felt bad about it. But there was still a layer of indifference that I just couldn’t shake. I didn’t see why these women were so tied up getting clean. Surely we weren’t addicts—or at least I wasn’t.

I was a fun girl who got mixed up with the wrong group. I liked to party with the best of them, but I wasn’t a fucking addict.

Addicts overdose with needles in their arms and choke to death on their own vomit because they are too strung out to know any better.

That wasn’t me, it couldn’t be me.

Week after week I went back to those meetings. And it was there that a miracle happened. That layer of indifference began to melt away. Feelings so raw and hurtful threatened to overpower me. I didn’t want to go back anymore. It hurt too much. I needed to use, fuck, I had to get my hands on something.

It wasn’t like I hadn’t fallen before. Just one taste, one snort, one hit, and then I would never do it again.

Part of the program is taking personal inventory—taking responsibility for your actions, accepting who you are and identify the changes you want to make.

I had to take a hard look at who Shay Montgomery was. What were my strengths—my hopes, beliefs, dreams, personal strengths, self-awareness, self-acceptance, acts of love? Would I ever learn how to be the kind and generous person that I once was?

When

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