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THE DIARY OF A CHICK WHO WALKED AWAY FROM ALCOHOLICS ANONYMOUS (THE CULT)

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Boston, MA, United States
I don’t need an introduction.

Saturday, December 20, 2014

THOSE WEREN'T BED BUGS


Let's get a few things straight before I write this all-too-enlightening post: I definitely drink too much, smoke too much, curse too much and, indulge my anger way too much. Regardless of all of that, I am a God-fearing woman. I was saved in 2007, when my life turned to shit and, my walk has been nothing short of torture, yet, I still BELIEVE with all of my heart that the world is ruled by one AMAZING GOD.

He is all powerful. Almighty. And, ALL GOOD.




I came back to San Diego with little more than a wing and a prayer because I have been haunted by what I left undone.

My beloved Tolstoy's remains where stuck in a storage unit, surrounded by more beauty products, clothes and material items than one person could ever need that I accumulated in service to pure greed, from various places set up to serve the homeless population of Asheville, North Carolina.

All too much stuff was piled on top of a scooter I accepted in haste from a Step-monster who refuses my calls to this day - she is just another member of a "family" I realize now served one purpose only: to bring me and my hope to GOD'S world.

Thank you.

The good news is that, although missed greatly, I no longer use hard drugs.

Although I skate the line of wanting more than I like, I am much too afraid to indulge in what I now believe are gifts from the most disgusting demon whom I refuse to name.

The bottom line is this: I have experienced the torture of the beast first hand. The war is real. Believe it.

Although I fled from my roommate situation in East Lake due to bed-bugs, I now sit in the condo where I thought I'd experienced a second attack without any wonder of what happened to me.

I had to come all the way back here to understand.

I'll never forget the feeling that over-took me that fateful night, when the dark one appeared. Per usual, I was smoking meth. It was three in the morning when an overwhelming feeling that something horribly bad had joined me. It over-took my entire being. I smelled it. I saw it. Everywhere I looked the image of evil was there.

I knew it was the other him (or a zillion minions). 

Without an ounce of fear, I proclaimed my owner in the strongest language possible. I am a child of God, I said.

Yes, I am deep in sin now, but no matter what you do to me, I will ALWAYS BELONG TO HIM.

Get behind me.

I am covered in the blood of Jesus.

By the power of HIM, I REBUKE YOU.

It wasn't enough.

I was attacked mercilessly. The scars of that struggle cover my body.

It was ugly. Never-ending and the bitter end of a life or death deal instigated by me.

At eighteen years old, I was very confused about everything. I made an offer that seemed appropriate at that young age: GOD or ......, whomever can make me rich, skinny and famous shall have me.

I became all of that...

During my romance with meth amphetamine, I met many people who had done the drug for years, including a cook who stopped when a demon congratulated, then thanked him for his help in the utter destruction of humanity.

I was only able to last six short months before I was in the midst of what I once thought was purgatory.

Thank God.

Praise God.

There were no bed bugs.

Only demons.

All for Gods Glory.

Amen.

As I've mentioned on this blog, I often wonder if my life is meant to serve humanity as an example of what not to do.

Probably.

Definitely.

The Bible states: "Blessed be the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our afflictions, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we are comforted by GOD. (Corinthians 1: 3-5)

AMEN.

I came to San Diego with very little money, no clue where I would stay or, how I would accomplish what I needed to do. I pray. A Lot.

Everything has worked out.

Beyond my wildest dreams.

GOD IS ALL GOOD.

There are not demons here in the very place where I turned over all CUNTESSA stole and that I got back to something beneath every single one of us, while I wondered why the experience was so devestating versus my control over my life on coke.

Now that I have matured in my Christianity, my consequences make perfect sense.

 I was baptised shortly after my run with cocaine ended.

Does this make me perfect?

Absolutely not.

I am human, after-all.

What it does make me is filled with THE HOLY SPIRIT, which increases my desire to turn away from sin in service to GOD'S purpose.

With God's GRACE, I get closer every day.

AMEN.

For I AM HERE FOR HIM.

To use as HE sees fit.

LET ME BE YOUR HOPE.

GOD LOVES US ALL.

And, those where NOT BED BUGS.

'Till Next Time,








  
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DeConstrucor's Comment In Response to LETTER TO MY "FRIENDS" IN AA (page above)

"Brav fucking O.....Standing O fucking Vation. Or perhaps the Charlie Daniels quote from the Geico commercial of "thats how you do it son"

That was incredible.

Reminded me a little of "the letter" at the end of the Breakfast Club (perhaps the greatest movie ever)

Keep it up, dont be afraid to kick them in the teeth once in a while.

Always remember that its the misfits, the rebels, and the troublemakers that are the ones that change the world."

He post the following video at the end of his comment.

Thank you, my friend.
I am both Flattered and HONORED.
*STINKIN THINKAS UNITE!*


*This Video is here to support Decon's Words, not OBAMA (or any politician for that matter, since I've never been allowed to vote) Sincerely, Go-Go Rach.