Updated: Jun 24, 2020

I didn't think about my meeting with the missionaries until Mitchell broke up with me. It took the break-up to realize: The only light I had in my life was gone.

Was light a religious thing? Was I fucked up because I turned my back on religion? No. I was a fucked up because I turned my back on God.

There was nothing in my life that inspired me to live. My boyfriend broke up with me. Everyone in my family hated me (except for Brittany). My grades were the worst. My job turned into a volunteer position that I traded to sleep on the couch of a woman with mild-traumatic brain damage. My ex-boyfriend all of a sudden wanted me... It was WAY too much to deal with on my own,

So I turned to the only thing I knew to help me manage my emotions: Drugs. Drugs helped me bring mountains back down to molehills, but drugs also made me sensitive and self-conscious. They also made me sick. Especially, the opioids. I couldn't go back to that life with the same carefree feelings I had going into it. I knew better, and it wasn't the same.

I didn't want it.

I didn't want to fornicate.

I didn't want to take pills. I definitely wanted to smoke marijuana because it's the only thing that brought me joy. Truly, it's the only thing that made me hopeful and realize that God is real.

I wanted a closer connection with God. I just didn't know how?

Every example in my life except Mitchell was an asshole Christian hypocrite.

I liked Mitchell, but I did not like Mormons, and I didn't like the idea of being a Mormon.

Mormonism seems oppressive to women. It was last on the bandwagon to accept black people (which I am), and Brigham Young was a racist polygamist. I'm sorry. I just can't.

But I honestly had to admit, when Mitchell broke up with me, the only light in my life was gone.

His last words echoed:

"You need to take accountability for your actions."

He was right.

I spent all my life blaming others.

Just like my mom always blamed my dad.

Just like my grandma always blamed my grandpa.

I think I even tried to blame Mitchell when I crashed his car.

He was calling, I looked down, and CRASH! Clearly, that's my fault.

For once in my life,

I legitimately thought to take accountability.

The good, the bad, all of it. For once in my life, it's time to see my part in things.

I have a choice.

I choose how I use my thoughts and actions. I choose how I'm going to see this life. I choose the life that I want to live. I choose what I do with my thoughts, time, and actions.

If Mitchell didn't tell me: "You need to take accountability for your actions." I may have spent the rest of my life stuck in the blame game. Blaming my parents for their insane bullshit. Blaming my brother for accusing me of being a heroin addict 5 years ago. I could be repeating the same insane stories over and over again but for what?

To justify my ego?

To never grow?

If I'm being perfectly honest:

I've spent my whole life blaming other people.

It's time to take a look at myself and my actions. What's my part in things? Every thing that happened to me - all the arguments, contention, ex-boyfriends -

all of it.

I am accountable.

I had a part in things.

I choose how I feel about the situation.

It's time to let go.

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