For the Ones who know how to Build up from the Rubble.

Did you ever notice how the people holding the world together are the same ones getting f*cked over by it?

The ones I am referring to are:

The single moms with dark circles. Sleep deprived yet still show up for anything for their kids to support them.

The felons who didn’t go back inside, who found a decent gig and are thriving, but can’t rent an apartment in their name.

The women who built up their “dream career” but sacrificed every version of themselves that exists outside of their office.

The teenagers who never got to be kids because they were too busy raising other ones.

The artist who buys materials instead of meals, hoping the hustle will pay off.

The healers who stitched others back together while still bleeding themselves.

The ones society filed under “lost cause.”
Diagnosed, dismissed, and drowned in debt.
Taught to tiptoe around the comfort of others.
But born to break the mold they were buried in.

They all make up The Xpendibles.

Not because they are expendable.
But because the world treated them like they were.
And guess what?

They are so much more. And so are you.
I hope.. no, I know that you can feel it now.

You’re in the right place.

Reading these words?

That wasn’t random.
You were meant to find your way here,
and now that I’ve got a headcount…

Let me tell you why you’re here.

Before you roll your eyes and think,

“Okayyy… so survival prepping? That’s what this is leading to? Where did that come from?!”

Let me stop you right there.

This isn’t about prepping because I watched one too many end-of-the-world TikToks.
This isn’t because I lost sleep and spiraled into a conspiracy rabbit hole.
I’m not out here impulse-buying tactical army gear on Amazon just to flex for content or sneak in affiliate links while telling you it’s “essential” to buy this item to survive.

This isn’t about clicks.
It’s not curated chaos for engagement.

This is bigger.
This is real.
This is about seeing the world for what it is and what might and preparing for it anyway.
Because once you know what you know, you can’t un-know it.
You don’t get to go back to sleep after you wake up.

You’re here because something in you already knew to pay attention.
I’m just saying out loud what you’ve been whispering to yourself.

Don’t act like this came out of nowhere.

This is about real life, right now.

And once you’re grown and, like, really on your own, then there are things you need to know.

Because the world we live in?

It doesn’t play fair.

And it doesn’t warn you before it punches.

Do it because you are in touch with reality.

Let’s keep it all the way real.

Bad people exist.

Natural disasters don’t send invites before they touch ground.

Systems fail.

Phones ring busy.

Governments glitch.

And sometimes, sh*t just hits the fan for no damn reason at all.

Since we are talking about scary apocalyptic doomsday possibilties lets talk about whats already showed face….

Zombies.

No, not the Walking Dead kind.
The present day hybrid version.  Still alive and Human-ish.

Well partially anyway. 

They can be found wandering through parking lots at 1AM.

They are what remains of the ones the system drugged, dumped, and forgot.

You are probably envisioning the stereotypical slow walking, moaning, and groaning, zombie.  Take that image and speed them up. Double that to 2x.  I think there is some prior conditioning of par cor that they tap into along the way, too.  They move fast.  Like shadows floating.

There you have it.

This is a most accurate description of the type of beings we saw on this particular night I’m about to tell you about.

Who created them?

I’ve traced their roots and yes, they’re human but, what they’ve become is something else entirely. This evolution into the unrecognizable began the moment lawmakers stormed in with their so-called solution to the opioid epidemic.

The government didn’t solve it.

It also didn’t disappear.

It just evolved to equal evil.

But stamped it as being a legitimate treatment option.

Then subsidized it.

The rabbit hole of corruption goes so deep.

Under the SUPPORT Act (Section 1006(b)), all state Medicaid programs must cover medication-assisted treatment (MAT) for opioid use disorder which includes methadone maintenance treatment and therapy. This mandate kicked in October 1, 2020, and runs through at least September 30, 2025.

(Which surprisingly enough, this incident with my son and I happened in December of 2020.)

These clinics use the facade to communicate structure if outside looking in so they dont raisw concerns to disrupt their payments.   The therapeutical element is the assigning of  an unqualified “counselor” who end up usually being a client themselves.  They are given the responsibility to act as your so-called case manager. They’re just middlemen, parroting whatever keeps the illusion of treatment alive. Wouldn’t that be a confluct on interest? Meanwhile, people are getting dosed up to 250mg a day. That’s not maintenance. It is a guarantee the clinic gets paid. And they will, because people keep showing up.

These clinics double as open-air drug markets. They are daily operating places to barter, trade, and score whatever cocktail gets them through the downtime. What we encountered was likely meth-fueled by the erratic movements, the emotional volatility. That’s not any form of stability.  It’s a chemical possession.

Year after year, these folks are trapped in a chemical leash. The long-term brain damage? Unimaginable. But this is what they call a solution to the opioid crisis.  What i think of is a herd cattle lining up to be slaughtered.

Most  can’t even stay awake long enough to finish a shift at Sonic. But as long as Medicaid covers the ride and the dose, that’s where the help ends. No housing. No food. There is no support to actually rebuild a life. Just time to kill until tomorrow’s fix.And with these laws enacted the homeless population has exploded with these large groupd migrating along the busiest roads and strategically setting up camps behind shopping centers, where they’re harder to remove without formal eviction. These areas become hostile fast: harassment, violence, and aggressive panhandling push businesses out one by one.

That chaos is why I moved into the city because i remember it to be more in order. At least, that was what i thought..

But they have trickled over the line into this side, and I only realized it after experiencing it firsthand.

So where do they go and what do they do?

Not their problem. It becomes ours. 

So thanks, Uncle Sam, for funding the rise of the modern-day zombie.

They aren’t really supernatural.  But it’s hard to tell the difference.

My heart hurts for the struggling addict because they too, make up the population of the broken and cast aside. 

But, the things that both my son and I  experienced overpowered my sympathy meter because now the stakes are higher. Once my instincts kicked in, the realness of it all and the harsh truth of my unpreparedness  became my only focus.

And no, I’m not being heartless. I know they’re human. But when people start preying on others, I need a way to process it—and sometimes, that means using dark metaphors. Not to dehumanize, but to survive it.

Maybe that reassurance of my city being safer and more controlled is what had me completely oblivious.

I am typically more paranoid naturally, but for some reason, I was this night.

Looking back now i think of it as something greater at play to open my mind up to things I needed to see. And in order to share with you.

Just to be clear, I was not walking to the store, poking my chest out and acting like i was looking for trouble.

At all.

We were only walking because I still had no parking pass for my complex and pulling out of the spot on the street would leave me without one to come back to.

All of my family was home and doing their own thing,  but I realized we were out of milk.  

I couldn’t stop obsessing over the fact my baby would wake up just as soon as I finally laid down and shut my eyes, screaming for a bottle.  I was beyond frustrated that nobody told me when they left only a drop in the carton for me to discover (teenagers!). 

7 Eleven does not sell Organic Grass-Fed milk.  

I already knew the grocery store didn’t open till 5am. 

This wasn’t my first rodeo with the milk battle after closing hours.

My youngest was still struggling with sleeping through the night and my momdar wouldn’t let it escape my mind to have some kind of milk for her just in case my lil dictator in a diaper got up to start making her demands.

So the time is  like 12:30am. School is out for summer.  It’s a ghost town. We saw maybe 2 cars on the busiest main road up until that point.

So, I went to each of my older kids, got their order for what they wanted for a late night snack since I was going to the store for the baby, I have to ask them too. 

I already knew my youngest son was going to stop whatever he was doing and come with. When they wrote the script for that movie Boss Baby, they must have used him for their muse.  He has been more responsible then me since he was maybe 7. Its crazy because his name is Curtis and thats apparently considered an “old fashioned” name in his generation.  But its so fitting.  Because he is the epitomy of old school charisma, manners and traditions, unconsciously. So I knew as soon as i did the motions to leave the house he would be a few steps behind, without saying a word.

Anyway….

So there we were walking.

Just a half mile. Harmless, right?

Wrong.

First wierd thing happened. 

As soon as we turned left to be on the road that the 7 Eleven is on, I felt someone behind me.

Are you guys familiar with sidewalk etiquette. 

Rules about crossing over, grass bypassing and DEFINITELY a certain distance to keep between other people walking. 

Especially late at night.

Especially not a woman and a child.

So, this guy, he didn’t get the memo. 

Keep in mind there is a whole sidewalk completely open on the opposite side.

But as he shoved his way like IN BETWEEN US, I heard him muttering to himself. 

Typically I would have lost my mind if someone pushed themselves through my child and I. 

I had something in my gut just stop me. 

For one, I was out of my element. 

Second, he didn’t seem like he was “here” to even realize any kind of etiquette rule and he had other things, obviously,  troubling him.

After he got a lil farther in front of us, I started explaining to my son that we just needed to turn up our spidey senses just a bit.

Not to scare him but, to in a way, communicate to him we had no business walking to the store that late and this whole thing was a big.  .

MY BAD.

I reassured myself in my head that the guy just probably was struggling with a mental illness.

As soon as i calmed down some my heart

Dropped.

I was already struggling with my gut telling me to turn around and now im caught off guard. 

To the left of us as we turned into the parking lot there were two other individuals sitting on the ground partially concealed by some tall grass, leaned up against the green box.

I was startled because they popped up so quick like you walking in the room and catching your kids doing something they know they shouldn’t.

I imagine it was US that startled THEM because they jumped up and ran off.

As they dispersed, i noticed both of those individuals had the same shuffle as the first guy.

But not broken.
Overburdened.

So as we get closer to the store, I’m noticing the windows are fogged up from the temperature difference from the climate inside the store vs the outside.  

Needless to say, its hard to see inside.

The glass is foggy as I tried to to a quick scan for any people inside, but all I can see is color blobs.  But I didn’t see anyone but the guy behind the counter.

I walked in and felt safer.  We got our few things and begin our check out process.

Now that i have been enlightened of the late night activity, i feel like a idiot for being out in it.  With my child.  On foot.  I look like im so irresponsible.  So i feel the need to explain myself.  To the clerk. Because i just am infamous for this.  I also, was hoping to give myself some reassurance, i believe,  through him, that we were ok.  Even if it was just a few wierd people we passed, i just didnt feel comfortable. I wanted to lead into some small talk with the clerk about the activity outside to gauge if it was typical because I was unaware so many people would be out and about, just wandering aimlessly but i didn’t get a word out. 

As soon as i went to open my mouth i was interrupted by the first guy, the one who invaded our bubble by barging through us, crawling across the floor beside me collecting coins that he seemed to have spilled. He was in the space that existed between myself and the door. The clerk rolled his eyes and asked me to give him a minute and he moved to the other register and i noticed a drink and a bag of chips there and a bunch of coins stacked up next to it.  I signaled for the clerk to come back to my register and to inconspicuously ring up the guys drink and chips, and I’d pay for it but asked for him to do it discretely. 

I didn’t want him to think i had the money and cause myself even more problems.  I felt like it was the right thing to do.  He was obviously struggling and it also allowed for me to kind of redeem myself without saying it because I did something i felt was the right thing to do.  I stepped around him and excused as while doing so and wete on our way back.

I start giving myself a lecture in my head of being overboard.

I mean I felt something was off and I felt uneasy and i was just on alert for the just in case because of my “spidey senses ” picking up on something.

False alarm…

Quite.

We are to the end of the parking lot, both of us have increased our pace which i think was just my son matching my eagerness to get home.

With my son Curtis,  we have this wierd telepathy where no words have to be spoken. He’s hyper aware of my energy. 

He isn’t the most social of my kids but he is the most aware. Of everything.  I glance back just to make sure the guy is still inside the store.  I don’t know why I did but even after all of that was behind us I still felt uneasy. 

I confirmed nobody was behind us but as I set my eyes back in front of us, I saw out the corner of my eye, two figures over by the dumpster on the side of the store move parallel from me, in the same direction, not on any path like they were cutting across a daycare and a field but I could see ad we we approaching where we were supposed to turn right at the Walgreens to go towards our home I scanned an area where they could come up behind and alongside the Walgreens to meet us head on.  I decided to cross the road only to the  separated little divided island grassy strip because I wanted to put more space between us to signal to them we weren’t going that way.

Just then I see a few other figures out of the corner of my left eye and it’s clear to me they are probably all together.

They saw us as we walked up and they waited for us to come out to ambush us for what I’m guessing what they want, something of value. 

I reached in my purse and grabbed my lil pink stun gun and handed it to my son. I took a knife I thankfully had in a zipper part of my purse and tucked it inside the waist of my pants. 

I didn’t have to tell my son about what was surrounding us because he already saw it and I told him to give me his grocery bag.  I stuffed it in my purse with the one I had.

I said I need you to run.  Run down.  Through the gas station and down that side street.  Theres a cut there.  Run. Don’t look back. Run home.  Don’t go in our complex though.  Go ti the neighborhood before it. Where it’s enclosed inside and they won’t follow you in.  Wait there.  I’ll meet you there.  I don’t want to lead them back to our home. 

He said I’m not leaving you. 

I’m like oh my God Curtis, fine.

Im going to try one more thing.

Play along.

I started acting unbothered.  I pulled the bags back out and handed him his. 

I started talking to my son louder and praising the EBT gods for hitting the account at midnight. 

It was a diversion tactic to signal to those people,  whatever they were, zombie ninjas on stealth mode, that we were broke too. 

I mean, if they all worked together, as a system,  the mentally unstable guy was the antagonist to gauge my  degree of tolerance.  The second two people that caught us by suprise were to determine how I’d respond by being caught off guard so they wouldn’t be surprised later on by something sharp and shiny slicing through their skin.

The second appearance from man #1 was to gauge my finances. I did fail that test. 

Remember? I did pay for his coke and chips. it probably was the green light to move in. 

For all I know, the clerk at the 7 Eleven was in on it too. 

But under pressure, I’m typically pretty damn good.

I reminded back to remember just back in the store and the items I paid for were all food items. 

No cash.

So EBT is going to get us out of this. If anything does.  It’s the best excuse. Especially given the time.

I tried to disguise my uncomfortability by opening up a candy bar and handing him a square of it. 

Believe me, I wasn’t hungry but I wanted to flip it around on them and since they were studying our movements without out permission long before I realized it, I’m gonna use it to get us home safe.

I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and acted as if i was receiving a call and answered it.

I was having a full on conversation with nobody but it didn’t matter.  I was trying to seem as though someone, preferably a big man that could hurt them,  was approaching, with our family dog.

Two more additions into the situation thar would have them fall back from us.

In my mind, I looked ridiculous improvising this entire thing, but desperation apparently made it believable.

The 3 individuals to the left I saw fell back and the two I saw that were coming around the side of the Walgreens to meet me head on were just standing still around the back side which was still too close for me and also in a partial view of our path back home.

I thought it was in our best interest to walk to the apartment complex in front of ours and into a random building and wait a few minutes to leave out the back side of it just to get them to completely return to their original place outside the store by the dumpster. 

I can’t tell you how dull that knife probably was I had in my waistband, and the stun gun I handed my son was probably so low in wattage it wouldn’t even cause anything more then a sting.

It was better than nothing even if the only thing it offered us both was a fake sense of security.

I can tell you that the same false sense of security allowed me to calm myself down enough to think quickly and enact a strategy that ultimately saved us from something that could have ended much differently.

I spent the next few days just flabbergasted at what happened and reconsidering this move back here.

I intentionally went to a place I knew to be safe for my sons to go to middle and high school in schools in a place that I knew some of the faculty and a few of the office staff were in my graduating class.  

Only if you know me personally, you can understand how difficult it is for me to admit I made a mistake.

An expensive, contract binding mistake that I no longer wanted to be in. 

No matter how asthetically pleasing I tried to make my walls.

There had to be some explanation for this.

I started looking at the crime data and incident reports posted up and seeing the spike in crime in this 3 block stretch.

The same 7Eleven had a car drive through the window just previously. 

A house that was behind the store was an address that popped up 11 times in the last 2 months for shots fired and other violent crimes that resulted in arrests.

It didnt explain the influx of so much activity that all would have been stopped by local law enforcement after any of the individuals being seen more than once the way our city police operate. City wide ordinances for  loitering and pan handling within the city limits.  They are usually on top of it.

What changed?

My kids and I should be able to walk around without being fearful. 

Everything changed.

Now it was necessary for me to adjust my own behavior according to the world and the threats that exist around us all the time. No matter where we are.  In our home or outside of it.

This experience was something i felt needed to be shared and i needed to paint the picture for you of what happened, play by play, of just a mom who was a little too confident to walk to the closest store, after midnight, with her young son, with no suitable way to protect either of them from the threats that existed around them and went unseen until all they could do was react.  There was no one to come swoop in and save them. 

Now, when I am talking about being prepared it’s not like full on off grid survival type of prepping.  I’m saying throw an extra few things in your purse, glove box, work desk drawer or locker,  keyring,  and definitely your home!

After ive clarified my aim here and it not being just a gimmick, Maybe it doesn’t sound completely foolish to keep flashlights, batteries, canned food, a radio, and a few medical essentials in the house. 

For the what ifs.

Maybe having basic self-defense tools within arm’s reach isn’t as crazy once you look a little more into the unseen threats we come in contact with daily and have been grateful to miss.

Maybe having a book at your fingertips refer to things that are territory you are unfamiliar with and you need it broken into ways that you can understand it.  
overkill either, huh?

Anything other than the bare minimum is better than absolutely nothing.

But what if you’ve got kids?

Then the game changes.

Add little humans into the mix and now it’s not just prepping.

It’s responsibility.

Because you’re not just packing snacks for soccer practice.
Have you thought about what you’d do if your schoolage kid’s school goes on lockdown unexpectedly?

You remember seeing the email about the newly implemented statewide rule concerning your kid’s phone and it being locked away in some asinine “policy-approved” classroom lockbox at the beginning of each class per the governor.
Have you thought about how they are gonna reach you?
How will they know what to do?

Or say you co-parent and your kid’s other parent lives a mile away. That’s close enough until the grid collapses and the phones aren’t working , and walking that mile might as well be walking the line in front of a firing squad because sh*t has hit the fan and they ate unaware of the threats that exist all around them as people are frantically tryimg to put the pieces together of what’s happened. 
If you haven’t made a plan in advance and established a meeting point, a fallback route, a “this is what we do if everything goes to hell” playbook. 

you’re screwed.

And so are they.

Ok.

Now let’s talk geography.

Tornadoes. Hurricanes. Floods. Grid-down events. Fires. Civil unrest.

Whatever’s most likely in your area, you should already have a plan for it.

And if you’re thinking, “Well I live in a second-floor apartment so what good is a basement plan to me?”

Exactly.
You need your version of a basement.

That means:

Pre-identifying a friend, family member, or even a local shelter with a safer structure.

Making sure they know you’re coming if sh*t goes sideways.

On top of keepimg them in the mix you gotta pair it with consistent stocking that place with basics: water, shelf-stable food, blankets, batteries, wipes, copies of IDs, meds.

Mapping the fastest, safest route to get there under different scenarios—car, foot, chaos.

Don’t start the process with the shopping list.

This isn’t about fear.
This is about preparing you for the dangers in a world that assumes you won’t think ahead.
This is about being “the calm” in your family’s chaos.
The one with the plan.
The one who already drew the map.

Start with a plan.

Before you spend a dime, open a note, grab a notebook, or sit down with your family and say:

“What would we do if (insert a disaster here) happened?”

Run through it.
Make it a conversation.

Not a crisis.
Give your kids age-appropriate instructions.
Make the adults responsible for roles.
Establish where you meet, who you call, and how you stay safe if the usual comforts vanish.

Because being unprepared isn’t cute anymore.

If you think it’s dramatic now.

Imagine when the grid goes down.

When the lights go out.
When food’s gone.
When phones are down.
When cops are 30 calls behind and the National Guard reroutes your emergency to voicemail.

What then?

You never got around to learning how to fortify a window.
You assumed there’d always be time.
You kept putting off applying for that gun license.
You thought safety meant dialing 911.

Let’s make it real simple:

#1Apply for your gun license.

#2Order an affordable firearm from a licensed dealer near you.

#3Take a concealed carry + firearm safety class (yes, Groupon has them).

#4Get non-lethal options for your older kids. Teach them safety. Practice together.

#5Document your plan. Make Copies.

#6Train. Learn. Prepare. Repeat.


Because if you wait until you need this, it’s already too late.

This isn’t a hustle.
This is a gift.

From one Xpendible to another.

I’m not selling you hope in exchange for clicks.

This is not a drill.  To be nervous about things does not mean you are overreacting.

You are not alone.

You are waking up.

And this isn’t about being a prepper.

It’s about being a mother. A father. A protector. A warrior. A realist.
It’s about knowing that this cold world doesn’t care about your excuses.

But your kids do.
So does your future self.

The one who survives.
The one who rebuilds.

The one who remembers this moment as the turning point.

You’re not expendable.

You’re Xpendible.
Which means you’ve been overlooked.

But never bowed.
And baby, that’s the kind of soul that makes it through the fire and builds the blueprint on the ashes.

Let’s rebuild.
Together.

Written Specifically for you by One of those who will still remain after the dust settles.