in the midst of metamorphosis

That night is shrouded in a dense, alcohol fueled fog. I remember most of it, but it is the feelings that stand out as markers throughout the experience. I cannot tell you what he looked like, but I can tell you how he made me feel. Comforted, accepted, whole, safe, wanted. I didn't know him at all. He showed up at a party. I was feeling sad, alone, insecure. He said all the right words, did all the right things. I had no reason to fear him. yet. I cannot tell you what his car looked like, but I can tell you that my intuition screamed at me the moment I was inside of it.   Get. Out! I ignored her, as I unfortunately do at times. Besides, the charm was still there - why would I worry? We talked and drove and I remember thinking, 'well maybe this night isn't a total bust'. I cannot tell you where we were, but I can tell you that fear was making her presence known. And when I asked to go back and he refused, she settled into the pit of my stomach. and some days, I...

The first time that I remember a shopping "high", I was only a teen. I had had a disagreement with a friend and I was in my feelings - hurt, betrayed, excluded, passed over. I grabbed my newly acquired credit card and headed to the mall where I shopped til I dropped, from one end to the other, feeling better with each passing purchase. I maxed that card out. in one day. in one shopping excursion. but, I felt so good . Like, all the hurt could be hidden behind that new outfit, all the betrayal could be trampled under those new boots, all the exclusion was lost in that sweet new fragrance, and all the feelings of being passed over could be buried in the deep pockets of that new handbag. I was already involved in the drug life. I knew what it felt like to be high from that. and this felt the same. Nothing else mattered in the moment. ~~ I was never a casual drinker when I first started, six years below the legal age. I went straight for the hard liquor, very little chaser....