Savage & Sacred

✦ Pro Tip I chose to stop being the one who gets left with nothing, and this journal was my blueprint to get out. If you're ready to reclaim your independence, click here to start your own Boujee Hustle . What happens when you stop numbing, stop running, and actually pay attention. Most people want the majick without acknowledging the mess. They want the glow‑up, the clarity, the peace — but not the chaos that comes first. I’ve learned the hard way that it doesn’t work like that. Majick isn’t mystical.  It’s intentional Majick didn’t start when things got good. It started when I stopped running. I realized something recently that changed everything. The version of me that drank, used, chased chaos, and burned things down — that wasn’t me.  That was a survival identity. A version I built to get through what I didn’t know how to face yet. And here’s the hard part: if I want to move forward, I can’t bring that version of myself with me. Not because she’...

  Everyone loves a girl boss who grinds 24/7. Wake up at 5am. Meditate. Journal. Workout. Build your empire before breakfast. Then do it all again tomorrow. Fuck that. I have ADHD. My brain doesn't do "structured morning routines." My brain does "hyperfocus on one thing for 17 hours straight then burn out and sleep for two days." And for a long time, I thought that was my superpower. Meth made it even better — or so I thought. Suddenly I could DO everything. Start a project, finish it, start another one. I was productive as fuck. I was FINALLY the girl boss everyone talks about. Except I wasn't building anything real. I was just spinning. Fast. In circles. Thinking I was going somewhere. Hustle culture tells you that rest is lazy. That sleep is for people who don't want it bad enough. That if you're not grinding, you're falling behind. You know what that mentality gave me? Burnout Addiction A body that forgot how to function without chemicals A b...

Look. I'm just gonna be honest with you because we're all friends here and I respect you too much to pretend I have my life together. I am poor. Not like "oh no, I can only afford the regular oat milk" poor. I mean "I just did math to figure out if sleep counts as a meal" poor. So I'm putting it out into the universe: I am manifesting a sugar daddy. Not in a weird way. Okay, maybe in a little weird way. But like, a charming weird. An endearing weird. A "wow, she's really out here trying" weird. What I Bring to the Table: Chaotic but supportive energy I will hype you up in any group chat Memes sent directly to your phone at 2am The audacity of a woman who genuinely posted this Prayers? I guess? This blog IS called Savage and Sacred What I Need: Money That's it That's the list Qualifications for the Position: Must have: money Nice to have: a sense of humor about giving it to me [Donate Here and Become My Personal Hero] Thank you for ...

  I'm living in a fifth wheel with a 90-pound brindle chaos demon named Glizzy, building a whole brand from my phone and laptop, sober (again), while my partner's locked up. That's the short version. The long version has a lot more mess in it — but you don't need all that. What you need to know is this: I've burned my life down before. Sometimes on purpose. Sometimes by accident. Sometimes because I handed the matches to someone else like a dumbass. And every single time, I've rebuilt. This time is different though. Not because I've "finally learned my lesson" — I hate that phrase. But because this time, I'm building something that's OURS. Not just mine. Something real that'll still be standing when he comes home. He's working on himself in there. That's his story to tell, not mine. Out here, I'm working on ME. Staying sober when my ADHD brain is screaming for something to make it shut up. Figuring out how to make money from...

This works because your brain can’t spiral and concentrate on complex language at the same time Whenever I feel anxiety creeping in — that restless “what the fuck do I do with myself” feeling — I always remember a really good friend who taught me this verse.. saying.. whatever the fuck it's called, I will legit say this muthafucker out loud because it forces my brain to focus — and it works. One red hen A couple of ducks Three brown bears Four fast hares Five simple simon's sitting on a fence tryna make a dollar out of fifteen cents Six soliciting solicitor's solicited down sixth-street Seven slimy sailor's sailed the seven seas Eight elegant alligators elevated up eight elevators Nine nibbling nibloids nibbled on nine noodles Ten - One fig plucker said to the other fig plucker, I'm not a fig plucker I'm a fig plucker's son and I'll pluck figs until the fig pluckers come then you repeat only backwards emoc srekculp ha jk Ten - One fig plucker said to th...

  Here's something nobody talks about when you "turn your life around": You go broke. Like, BROKE broke. When I was using and selling, I had cash. Not "retirement fund" money. Not "savings account" money. But "I can buy what I want today" money. A bottle of hard liquor? Sure. Two cases of teas? Make it four. New clothes? Why not. Shit for my man? Done. I wasn't worried about it. The money came in and the money went out and there was always more coming. Now? I'm sober. I'm not selling. I'm trying to build something legit from a fifth wheel with a laptop and a prayer. And I'm broker than I've ever been in my life. Nobody warns you about this part. The part where doing the right thing feels like a punishment. The part where you watch people still in the life flexing while you're over here counting pennies. The part where your brain goes, "Remember when we had money? We could just... go back to that." That vo...

People think addiction is about chasing a high. Like we're out here fiending for euphoria, scratching at the walls for one more hit of that good feeling. Nah. For me, it was never about the high. It was about the quiet. I have ADHD. My brain is a goddamn tornado on a normal day — 47 tabs open, nothing loading, everything urgent, nothing getting done. There's no volume knob. No off switch. Just noise, noise, noise, all the time. Meth made it stop. Not in a "zoned out" way. In a "holy shit I can finally THINK" way. Suddenly I could focus. I could start a task and actually finish it. I could exist without feeling like my skull was full of screaming bees. Booze did something similar — not the focus, but the calm. The "I don't give a fuck" that felt like peace. So no, I don't really crave it. Not the way people think. I'm just... bored. Under-stimulated. My brain is back to full volume and I forgot how fucking loud it is in here. Sobriety is...

  I’ve been living in this fifth wheel for three months now, and I’m starting to think the walls are closing in—not because they’re actually moving, but because sobriety feels like a pair of hands around my throat that I can’t decide if I want to pry off or lean into. People talk about recovery like it’s this beautiful sunrise after a long night. Nobody tells you that some days, that sunrise looks like an interrogation lamp, and you’re the one strapped to the chair. I’ve fallen off the wagon twice since I parked here. Both times started the same way: boredom creeps in, then loneliness, then that familiar whisper that says just one, you deserve one, you need one. The first time, I drank mouthwash I found in the storage compartment. ha jk i wish! but I probably would have if I had mouthwash! jk again.. lol c'mon I needed some of that *gasps* "oh no she didn't!". Its what makes good reads on the internet.. am I right or am I right? I didn't drink mouthwash! The secon...

  I believe in manifestation. But if you come at me with "raise your vibration" and "align your chakras" and "the universe will provide," I'm gonna need you to log off. I'm not here for the crystals-and-incense crowd that acts like positive thinking pays bills. It doesn't. Trust me. I've tried. Here's what I actually believe: Manifestation is just focused intention + action. That's it. That's the whole thing. You get clear on what you want. You start making moves toward it — even tiny ones. And you stop entertaining the bullshit that pulls you away from it. It's not magic. It's not "the secret." It's just... direction. When I was using, I had no direction. I was chaotic as fuck, spinning in circles, thinking I was moving forward but really just burning energy. Now? Sober? Broke? In a fifth wheel? I'm more intentional than I've ever been. I know what I'm building. I know why I'm building it. ...

Hey, beautiful! Let's talk about something that's probably been on your mind lately: achieving your goals and living a life that truly resonates with you. You know, that feeling of being "on your frequency" – where everything just clicks, and you're vibing on a whole different level. The thing is, getting to that place requires more than just wishful thinking or putting in the effort. It demands a fundamental shift in your mindset. Yep, you read that right – your mindset is the gatekeeper to unlocking your dreams, and it's time to take a closer look at it. The Power of Mindset Your mindset is like the operating system of your brain, influencing how you perceive the world, react to challenges, and make decisions. It's shaped by your experiences, upbringing, and the people around you. And, let's be real, sometimes it can hold you back from reaching your full potential. According to Carol Dweck, a renowned psychologist, there are two primary mindsets: fix...

  You know what nobody tells you about starting over? It's boring as fuck. There's no montage. No dramatic music. No moment where everything clicks and suddenly you've made it. It's just... slow. Repetitive. Unsexy. It's waking up and doing the same small shit every day and hoping it adds up to something eventually. Writing a blog post nobody reads yet. Setting up a shop nobody's buying from yet. Posting on Pinterest and watching your pins get 3 views. Checking your email list and seeing the same 12 subscribers. Riveting content. Everyone loves a comeback story AFTER the comeback. Nobody wants to watch the middle part where you're just... grinding. Quietly. Alone. Wondering if any of it matters. But that's where I'm at. The middle. The boring, unglamorous, "is this even working?" phase. Some days I feel like I'm building something real. Some days I feel like I'm playing pretend — like I'm just a broke girl in a trailer with a la...

  I'm not in AA. I don't have a sponsor. I haven't found God, and I'm not working any steps. That stuff works for some people. Genuinely. No shade. But it's not my thing, and I'm tired of people acting like it's the ONLY way to stay sober. So here's what actually keeps me clean: 1. Glizzy 90 pounds of brindle chaos who needs me to function. He needs walks. He needs food. He needs me to get out of bed even when I don't want to. I can't be fucked up and take care of him properly. So I stay sober for him. 2. Spite I'm not even gonna lie. Sometimes the only thing keeping me sober is "fuck you, watch me." People have counted me out. People have expected me to fail. And nothing motivates me more than proving them wrong. Petty? Maybe. Effective? Absolutely. 3. Remembering how bad it actually was My brain likes to romanticize the past. "It wasn't THAT bad. You were functional. You got stuff done." No. I was a mess. I burned sh...