The quick downfall...

My ex and I started selling dope pretty heavily. Seemed like the perfect set up. Sell drugs, have drugs, and get money. Nothing could go wrong there, right? We made many mistakes. I wont list them in case you get ideas, but I will tell you the results to selling drugs; Jail.

August of 2012, 4 A.M., I woke up to fifteen cops in my face with huge ass fucking guns. I'll never forget that day. After the cops raided my house and found the drugs they were looking for my son and I was driven to the police station, were we sat in a holding room for hours. Around 10 A.M. DCC&P formally known as DYFC arrived. I spent fifteen minutes talking to the worker. Eventually it hit me what was happening, this man was here to take my son. I didn't agree, I made a huge scene, two cops and my ex got called into the room to make hand my son over. There will never be a feeling that matches the feeling of watching someone else walk away with your child. You would think that feeling would be enough to stop and change my life, it wasn't, I got worse.

After being released on bail, first thing we did was pick up. The money we did have didn't last very long and eventually we hit a point that there was only one option left. I'm a girl, so I knew I could make money, as did my ex. I prostituted. I sold my ass more times then I can count. Honestly, I'm surprised I'm not dead. Between meeting random guys off of Craigslist, shooting up dope every hour, it's crazy. I say this because I don't believe in God, but a something and that something wanted me alive.