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It can be a mindbender flying into New York City from the Philippines. It has been a long held observation of mine that people are the most polite when everybody openly carries weaponry. For example, you will very rarely see or hear voices raised on Mindanao. If someone has a real problem with you it is usually addressed by two men riding tandem on the same motorcycle, the man on the rear being the one pointing a 45 at your face. They do send warnings in text messages but they generally are meant to terrorise you and yours because once you get that text an attack is all but guaranteed.

In New York, on the other hand, even bus drivers will call you a motherfucker if you take too long getting on and off. Loud arguing is so common place as to be boring to onlookers and fistfights are also commonplace over such trivial issues as cueing up to order takeaway. There was a time when I allowed myself to be sucked into stupid fights. All that changed on a visit here in 2009.

A Puerto Rican man was walking outside Madison Square Garden in Midtown, Manhattan one morning on his way to work. By chance he brushed up against a young blackman walking in the opposite direction. Words were exchanged and the black man pulled out a small pocketknife and quickly stabbed the Puerto Rican man to death.

Because it happened in Midtown the incident was deemed newsworthy enough so that the media pressure compelled the police to launch a manhunt. Three days later a black woman in Philadelphia, two hours south of New York, phoned police saying that her ex-boyfriend had shown up at her door unexpectedly and in great distress. By chance she had seen a newscast in which the crime was discussed and a CCTV image of her ex was used as the backdrop. Convincing the man that she needed to go to a neighbourhood grocery she instead phoned the police.

As police moved into position around the young woman's rowhouse they heard a loud report from a pistol. The young man had offed himself, compounding the tragedy that he himself caused.

Well, that incident set me to thinking about my own aggressive behavior. I promised myself that I would act as I did when I manned, and later commanded IDF Checkpoints. We always had provacateurs who played for the media, so called "Activists" who, hoping to provoke violent responses, often went so far as to spit in our faces. Of course when we arrested them and drove away from the cameras they were almost always peeing on themselves, but that is neither here nor there.

To date I have managed to control myself to a very high degree. One exception was the day my father died. I received the phone call at around 8AM, and per Jewish Law his burial was scheduled for 4PM at the Syrian Jewish Cemetery in Deal, New Jersey. I was sitting on a bench outside Patterson Houses, a project on Willis Avenue here in the South Bronx, as I waited for a couple of my brothers to pick me up.

As I sat on the bench, deep in thought, a black Housing employee, a porter, sprayed me with water from a garden hose, drenching a 900 Dollar Kenneth Cole suit. As I turned around I saw him laughing almost to the point of collapse with a fellow porter. I didnt want to miss my father's burial so I just stared so as to remember his face. After making my brothers wait as I put on another suit, we went to New Jersey.

The following Monday, six days later, I was in jeans and a teeshirt, basically unrecognisable from the day of the burial. I waited down the block from the Patterson Houses employee entrance and watched the asshole leave. I tailed him and by Wednesday I knew where he lived, who lived with him but needed a few days more to get his after work routine down pat. Most people are oblivious, keeping to static routines and in doing so make themselves extremely vulnerable.

As to what followed, Im not sure as to the Statute of Limitations and therefore will leave that dangling in the air. I will admit that I made a huge faux paux by personalising my response instead of maintaining detached objectivity, but I had unresolved issues with my father and used that imbecile as a scapegoat.

My rule now is, as long as me and mine are not in imminent danger, I wont even react, with the sole exception being anyone challenging me and mine in and around my home because if you allow even a bit of disrespect I have learned that aggressors will continuously up the ante. An example: I was walking with Lovely on the beach by her home and some guys in their early 20s made some rude comments. Anywhere else and I reckon I would laugh. However, near her home I have to maintain boundries or maybe next time they touch her, or start sniffing around her home. I pistol whipped bigmouth and the other two actually ran.

To show I really have changed though, yesterday I was in CVS, a chain pharmacy, waiting online to make a purchase. There were two lines. I was last on mine, with two customers in front of me. On the second line, a big muscle bound black guy was behind a lone customer. A third register opened and the cashier announced next on line. I stepped over and of course, as is a given, the black man began whining:

Black: Yo, I suppose you just didn't see me standing here...

Rachamim: I saw you but I also saw that you are next on line... but if you would like to go in front of me, please, by all means...

B: Nah, you just gonna step up like I dont exist right? I aint even here right?

R: I already offered to let you go

B: (repeats his mantra ad naseum)

R: Whatever, leave me the fuck alone (said in the same calm monotone that I always use in such exchanges)

B: What mothafucka?!? What you do if I step to you and knock you the fuck out?!?

R: (in monotone) I wouldnt do a thing but call the police and sue CVS so by all means, do it

B: What????!!!??? Call the fucken po-leees?!? ( incredulously)

(onlookers giggling)

R: Absolutely, I wont raise a finger, I could always use more money so please do it (black remained shocked, not saying anything, I turned around and completed my purchase)

I will admit that I could not leave well enough alone and as I exited the store I cut between him-still waiting-and the customer in front of him as if to provoke him. I also would not have allowed him to touch me but it was a major improvement in how I handle such situations. I am personally disgusted with men who provoke fights with people much smaller. I am 5'8", he was roughly 6'4" & bulked up...I love fighting such assholes but as I get older I hope that I am getting wiser.

So today was a little rough! 8( Mom woke me up at like 3am this morning after I was finally in sleepy town. She started her same shit that always gets us into fights and wow was it a fight. We proceeded to yell around the house, take cig breaks and then pick it back till about 5 am. I was so tired by the time 8 o clock came around I just had to say screw the apt. which of course I regret now but hey its not like I cant make another one.

Despite the triggering wake up this morning and desires to get mega fucked up, I stayed on my game.
Withdrawals suck so don't do drugs kids!

Time sober almost 2 days!!! :D

Reallllly feeling it this time, and I am getting some Mushies in two days and maybe by the love of god the dope sickness will be away within a week and I can partake in some awesome adventures in psychedelia. might not be a super good idea this soon but I am wanting to go on a trip so made I cant see straight. If my set and setting isn't good though I will wait till it is

Peace and !!!!

Ah, heroin blinds us to the realities of our lives. If we took off those blinkers and saw what our lives were for what they really and truly are, how would we be effected? Would our lives be so unbearable that we'd finally pull the trigger and end this misery that is our daily existence? So many addicts I know think they're in love, but they're in a symbiotic relationship. They use each other. It's pathetic, really, it is. I've called it so many times and yet those opiate blinkers are on and they're on tight. I just want to be like, "Dude, you're being used!" so loud that they can't ignore it. You're being sucked dry. Under the guise of love or a relationship. It's not my bed, however.

I'm blind to certain things myself. I'm getting angrier and angrier. All of these people who are supposedly my friends are just using me for drugs or money or even as a warm body -- companionship, I guess, commiseration -- I just don't have the heart to tell the dudes you're being used harder than the bathrooms at Grand Central Station. Who am I to burst their bubble? I would like to see what happens when everything comes to light, though. Then they'll need some sort of ear and I won't be there.

Your house of cards is dwindling, kid, and the foundation has never been there. You got your tiny bit of satisfaction but really the relationship is no more than a whore and a john at the root. So what if the surface looks better than that? Both of you seem to be okay with the deal, though. I personally couldn't fucking use another human being like that in good conscience though. But, what was it they said about heroin making you soulless and greedy? Fuck you, man. I don't need that shit.

I hope you're fucking happy now because you're in for a world of hurt later, kid...

You're also completely oblivious about yourself and think way too highly about yourself. You're fucking scum, dude, you really are. I wouldn't hurt you though, because you seem to be in enough pain as it is. You certainly don't need anymore pain... C'est la vie, kid, c'est la vie.

Just to forewarn you these journal entries get more and more intense so if you're light hearted you probably don't want to read any further. -Erika



7/3/2008

Laughing doesn't exist in my world of despair. I'm lonely. Hungry for love. Lately the full bottle of sleeping pills are taunting me like an apple in Eden. I want to swallow them all. I've been seeing things. Like, visual hallucinations. I frequently see cats, but mostly demons. This was supposed to be a song, but I'm too depressed for inspiration. I know I sound like an over dramatic, angsty teenager, but I feel sick mentally. I still want to die, but I can't bring myself to do it...yet. I wish lightning would just strike me. Then I'd be dead and content. Will this circle ever end? I'm manic or I'm depressed. xx



8/10/2008

Things I though I freed my mind of for eternity are suddenly reappearing. What's supposed to be deemed bad has become, in my mind, ideal. The bad is returning. xx



10/12/2008

It's been a few months since I've last written. I've been too depressed. Nothing good has happened. That bad that I wrote of DID return. With a couple more suicide attempts under my belt I am feeling a little better in recent weeks. I totalled another car. I feel as if I've been cursed. I had to drop all my classes because of my mood instability and move back in with my mom. Things are rough, but I am managing to hold myself together pretty well. Right now I feel calm. Partly due to the Klonopin, I assume. xx



10/13/2008

Things are very stressful right now. My mom spent all her money and now she's broke. We have a ton of things to pay for (bills, cars, doctors, ect). I'm bored. My everyday routine is getting really old and I miss going to school. I feel as if I'm about to crack again. I can never sleep...ever. It's impossible. I'm probably going to die at a very young age due to lack of sleep. I NEED to quit smoking! It's killing me, but what isn't? I'm just dying faster than anyone my age and I'm okay with that. It'd be so much easier to be dead. I am a cursed soul! I watch these petty shows like 'Gossip Girl' and 'The OC' and I must say, their "problems" are so stupid. I would trade in a second. Why are things so fucked? I don't get it! Ugh! I just want to do something with my life, but I probably never will. Everything sucks! xx



10/14/2008

This not being able to sleep shit is getting so old. It's ridiculous. Fucking ridiculous. I don't need sleep...ever. But I want it...badly. Ugh! I've had the urge to cut myself today and I'm not sure why. I've controlled myself though thankfully. But having nothing to do at night will probably lead to self destruction. I have nothing to do. Maybe it's boredom. I feel like my brain is melting away. I'm getting dumb. Usually, I'm a bright person, but not going to school has to be bad for me. And I am lonely. Not having a car means I rarely see my friends. And it's looking like I won't be getting another car anytime soon because my mom is completely broke. Things are not good. xx



10/22/2008

The voices today: "Now that we've got a deal. Have we got a deal or what? The deity! The deity! It's just a temporary day."

I have been having a crappy few days. I've been very low mood wise for the past, let's say, 3 days. I have broken everything that I'm supposed to stick with, which lead to more idle time for my depression. I gave in and cut myself in the shower last night. It felt so good, but I know it's unhealthy. I'll try to do it less like I have been doing.



11/10/2008

It's so easy to slide that razor blade against my skin again and again. So much easier than a knife. The blood runs down my arm and seeps through my sweatshirt. It feels so good. It makes me feel alive again. The slightest touch of the sharp razor draws blood. I never want to stop bleeding. It makes me forget all the mental pain, the voices in my head. Drip, drip, drip. Ah, the relief it brings me. Better than drugs. Better than life itself. Cutting is almighty to me right now. I think I'm addicted. I keep it from everyone, but not because I'm ashamed. I'm quite proud of the scars all up and down my arm. It brings me a sick pleasure that I can achieve in no other way. You could say I'm infatuated with it. PS don't tell. xx



11/11/2008

The voices today: "We've got to clean this mess up. It's become such a mess. Erika, life cannot sustain itself in such a mess. Please clean up."

The farmers are right. I'm making a huge mess of things just because I'm manic and think the only solution is to slash my arm to pieces. I HATE the farmers, but they're right. I need to clean up this mess and the addiction I've created for myself of cutting my wrists. This bullshit can't go on any longer. Things are very strange. I'm happy (hyper), but depressed at the same time. I have a ton of energy. I think this is a potentially dangerous situation because I actually have the energy to hurt myself. I'm a threat to myself. xx

Just so you know I have thousands of journal entries, but I can't sit here and type that many so for now I'm just picking a handful. -Erika



1/31/08

Wow! It's almost been a year since I last wrote. A lot has changed. Some for the worse. My parents are currently getting a divorce and it's taking a toll on everyone's emotions. It's not good at all. Apparently my father is seeing someone else or something, but I hardly ever see him so I'm not sure what's going on except everything is a complete mess. I had been taking a combo of 1200 mgs of Lithium, 300 mgs of Wellbutrin, 100 mgs of Zoloft, and 200 mgs of Lamictal. Well, I was getting really sick of taking it. I wanted to feel alive again. So I stopped taking all of it except the Wellbutrin. I now feel on the verge of a major breakdown. I'm just so irritable and sad...happy, suicidal, homicidal, and hyper. All at once. I wish I had an escape. I stopped doing drugs. I'll drink at parties or maybe smoke some pot occasionally, but no more opiates, no more blow, no more pills. This is an improvement in my life. I'm actually really proud of myself. xx



2/24/08

I fucking hate lithium! I'm not taking it ever, ever again! I don't care. It makes me so numb, I can't think, I can't write, I can't do music. I'm essentially dead on lithium. They keep telling me to take it and I say I am, but I'm not. I won't! I refuse. It makes my face breakout so bad too. I really need to lose weight asap. The fucking lithium is making me pack on the pounds. It's getting disgusting. Plus, my mom is skinnier than me. Ugh! I suck so hard! xx



2/26/2008

I want a sun that never sets

A flower that never dies

I want a love that never ends. xx



3/3/2008

Yeah, so a lot of things just aren't working out for me. I can't sleep at all. I'm all high strung and what the doctors like to call "manic." For example, I did all my homework by 5pm, went to work, closed by 8pm. I don't think the abilify is working. I got them to take me off lithium and Lamictal all together. I stopped taking Klonopin as well. Actually, the Klonopin helped me sleep, but I over did it like I do everything. I always take it to the next extreme. ALWAYS. xx



6/4/2008

I hate myself. I want to die. I've been seriously contemplating death for awhile now, but I'm too scared to tell anyone. I just feel this void in my life. Like good things are coming in the future, but it's not convincing me otherwise. I guess I'm weak and stupid, but I'm very curious what's after death. I think I'll find out soon. I hear noises all the time now. SCREAMING! SCREAMS! I wish I had someone to tell these things to, but I don't because I'm alone. xx



6/5/2008

I don't know what was wrong with me last night. It was so weird. I felt drunk, but I wasn't. xx

I decided to incorporate my journal entries dating back to 2006 in my book. It may be "filler," but it holds more truth than anything else I've written. It's the complete raw truth. -Erika

p.s. names have been changed to nondescript pronouns for the most part.



9/25/06

He od'ed on Valium the day after his birthday, September 14th. I mean he "ate bad sushi." Anyways, off to rehab he went on Saturday night. He went into rehab in complete hysterics and now he is the star patient. I'm really glad he's seeking help. It will save his life in the long run. I miss him so much though! And I'm really depressed right now. My psychiatrist switched me from Prozac to Zoloft because I was suicidal on the Prozac, I continued to cut my wrists which is NOT good at all. Now I am totally manic. I have these really high highs, but majorly low lows. Right now I'm at a low. It seems like there's nowhere between the highs and the lows. FUCK! I'm 16! Why do I have so much shit going on in my life?! I had to go to the OBGYN to get tested for STDs today even though I've only ever slept with one person. God damnit! I wish I had some sort of escape! Instant gratification. I guess life just doesn't work that way...unless you kill yourself or take drugs. There is NO instant escape. I'm starting to realize I'm stuck in this life practically alone. Sure I have my therapist, my mom (who just gets stressed out), and him(who has his own issues). I have no one that can just hold me in their arms when I'm feeling down. I'm just alone. I isolate myself in some ways...okay...a lot of ways, but it also feels like people isolate me. I just want to be normal. I want him to come back and be the normal, compassionate, ambitious boy I fell in love with. I want to be normal at my new school, but I can't control my mania so everyone just thinks I'm nuts. I want a father who actually knows I exist. I want my friends to understand. I want my mom to stop tweaking out everytime I peep a word. I just want everything to be fucking normal! Is that too much to ask? I mean, GOD DAMN! Maybe if my family wasn't such a fucking mess I would be semi-sane. Get me out of here! NOW! xx



9/26/2006

I know what it feels like to feel empty now. I feel as if my whole body is completely numb and made of tin. I don't know why I feel this way. I miss him so much. He doesn't get out of rehab for another 3 months. He's only been gone for a little more than a week, but I miss him deeply. I wish he could just hold my hand right now and tell me everything's going to be okay. I can't go through life like this. Why can't I be normal? Why can't everything be a fairy tale? Why did I have to fall in love so early? What did I do to deserve such pain? All the fucking time! I wouldn't give him up for the world, but I do miss him like crazy and not being able to see him makes me really sad. At least he's okay so someday he will be a good husband and father to whoever he ends up with. Whether it be me or someone else. It doesn't matter. I will always love him. It will never change. Dead or alive! xx



10/20/2006

I feel so weird lately. My emotions are completely fucked up. I'm having completely manic breakdowns. It's like a reverse panic attack. When I have panic attacks it feels like I'm being attacked by tigers, but now I'm the tiger. I can't control my rage, my obnoxious euphoria or depression. I'm either going to kill myself or someone else. My shrink put me on this medicine that you gradually build up on. I think it's call Lamictal. She also dropped my Zoloft down by 50 mgs because she said it was making my mood swings worse. So now I have less Zoloft and a bipolar med that won't work for like 6 weeks. So basically I'm fucked. I want to be fixed now! I need a quick fix. For now at least! And I can't fucking sleep. I'm taking Xanax, Lunesta, and Roserum but I still can't sleep! I want Ambien. It actually works. AH! God damnit! Nothing is right! He's a god damn rehab, I hate my school, my school hates me, people hate me, I have 2 C's (one in spanish and one in math). The rest are A's, but I'm pissed about the C's because I've worked my ass off. I had one tough week because I was too depressed and I failed a test in math and spanish that I previously had A's in too. Oh well! Next quarter. Hopefully I'll be fixed because now I'm just NOT okay. Ahh! I can't stand it anymore! I can't handle any of this shit anymore! I need an escape...NOW! You don't have to be alone to be lonely. xx



2/2/2007

So you would think that people who smoke marijuana are lazy because they sit around, but their minds are working faster than our bodies could ever work. xx

Introduction:

Living Dead: A Girls Journey to Hell and Back

By: Erika Gloersen



She lay with her face submerged in the pillows when she realized she couldn’t breathe. Her screams were muffled and her tears absorbed. Would anyone ever notice the crippling pain she was in? It seemed as if there was no hope, no light. There was only eternal darkness. The drugs came heavy, the drugs came cheap, but she was still a prisoner of her own mind. Was it a prison she would ever escape or would she be stuck in the constricting chains of despair eternally? Forever night was the world which belonged to the girl with the empty soul. As she pushes the needle into her frail arm, yet another time. She wonders if the sun will ever rise. It seemed to be a neverending eclipse. How long must this façade go on and was it even worth it? Life was meaningless and empty. Why not end it now? Should she welcome that bottle of sleeping pills, which had been taunting her for months, into her hungry stomach?

Opium scented incense and the low, raspy voice of Lou Reed filled the room where she lie numb in a lithium induced state. She wants to feel again. The telephone rings, but she doesn’t answer. Instead, she picks up a razorblade and cuts deep gashes into her translucent, beautiful, but scarred wrist. As the blood flows from her arm onto the bathroom floor a flood of relief overcomes her. Alas, contentment. She assumed she was alive. She saw the blood, felt the pain. Yet she felt dead as ever. Could she go on like this forever?

There was so much pain, loneliness, and misery. She had been prescribed almost every psychoactive drug in existence, but the monster of her depression was still devouring her, inside and out. Life seemed to be an ongoing battle against itself and she was definitely losing this round. She was rapidly beginning to realize that she was practically alone in this world and there was only one way out. This way would ensure that she would never feel again. Again, the bottle of pills seemed to gleam as they caught her eye. They had been tempting her for what felt like forever and like Eve she was about to take the forbidden fruit from the tree in Eden. It was the only way. She knew she had to do it. With little more thought she took the bottle in hand and swallowed a more than lethal amount of the drug. She laid down in the fetal position, tucking herself into her favorite blanket, waiting to die. She knew death was coming and couldn’t have been more ecstatic about the upcoming result. All those years of misery were finally going to over.

About thirty-six hours later she found herself in a white, fluorescent, and completely unfamiliar room where she was wearing what seemed to be a white gown. When she opened her eyes a little wider she noticed a man in a white coat looking down at her. She must be in heaven, she thought. When she opened her eyes even further she noticed the other people in what she now recognized as a hospital room, not heaven—her parents. She felt that life that she was ironically always dying to feel. Her morose was finally lifted. People did care and love her. How could she be so oblivious and selfish? She now started to realize that she had a lot of live for and thanks the God she previously thought nonexistent, for giving her another chance and the opportunity to live at last.



author's note: I wrote this many many years ago after my first suicide attempt when I was 15 years old, but I think it's a good intro. That's kind of when it all went downhill. The whole book's not depressing like this. There's wit, sarcasm, good times, and bad times.

thanks,

Erika

p.s. any recommendations would be greatly appreciated! xoxo

Cant sleep for anything tonight! its a tad after 2 am and I am wired big time. I don't see how people can even sleep lol. It turned out I did really good with my friend and she got plowed big time but I stayed strong even when asked to join. I just said "not tonight". Note to self thought : get some damn Melatonine. if I do somehow go to that apt tomorrow at 9am I am going to be dead tired.

Time Sober: just hit 1 day

I can really feel the sobriety setting in though and that worries me, I don't know How waking up tomorrow is going to feel and I am sure withdrawal is going to suck so bad. I can already feel the restlessness and massive cravings psychologically wish me luck!

Peace And !!!!

This is going to be fairly short, because I want to take the time to make a longer post, but currently don't have the time RIGHT now..but later tonight, I will

I had a disgusting relapse all summer long. During this relapse, there was lots of panhandling, breaking into homes, and selling all my scripts for my daily fix. It was AWFUL! Way worse than I was before the FIRST time I quit! So, this resulted in me going to "TREATMENT" or in-patient. It was great, truth be told.

That's about all for now. I miss my BL friends so much! Love you all

So I was supposed to start yesterday but well my last horrah turned into quite a big one indeed. Drank massively did opiates (H included) so this is going to be rough :/. However this is something I am doing for me so that gives me hope. I dont have any plans to quit the psychedelics at this point in time though, but i don't view them as bad anyways.

Learned today that my appointment with the GID specialist tomorrow is most likely not going to happen as I dont have a ride do to get there. This is a huge bummer but I cant let it effect my state of mind and I am just going to have to try again.

Possible triggers I've noted: Friends doing drug around me/ getting stressed/ social situations that I would normally use in/ and Gender issues sober might cause a relapse if I am not careful as they are hard to deal with on a sober mind.

I might be going to hang with a friend and I know alcohol will be ever present but I think I got this

Thats it for the day

Time sober: 18 hours

Peace And !!!!

so this morning i woke up around 10ish, and the girl that i'm staying with woke up soon after. i made some instant coffee because i dindt want to wake up the girl (i had 2 grind the coffee beans etc), then we went and walked her dogs etc. i got back to her place took a shower then started my day, told her that i had to work so i left about noon or so, called work and asked if they needed me, they said nope so i was off today which was a good thing. so i headed to the local libary and got on my computer and played a few games(which lasted about 6 hours lol), after the libary closed i went 2 wendys and got 3cheese burgers, and drove over here to mc donalds bcus wendys doesnt have free wifi. so here i am at mc donalds.. still hungry bcus those burgers didn't cut it. so im waiting until about a lil after ten before i head back to her place. and prob hangout b4 i go 2 bed. im actully pretty high right now on my neurontin so im feeling chilled out. cant take to much of the shit because it once put me into a seziure. so gotta be carful with it.
anyways when i sign off ill probs not be on till 2moro or something, she doesnt have the internet so ill spend my time playing some n64 emulators or something. who knows what will go on..
anyways todays been a good day, not 100% productive, but its okay for now.

:D

I am finally clean of all drugs bar nicotine & prescribed lithium!
I am no longer selling myself to whoever is willing to pay for half hour of my, ahem, company, in order to pay for shit to 'stimulate' me.

Three weeks now of total cleanliness. Yes, it's very early days & I've had much longer clean periods in the past, that have seen me revert to constant, daily usage - this time I WANT to be clean though.

I'm also quite content & happy.

I am well aware that should events happen that change my little bubble for the worse, giving me a negative outlook, I'll probably go straight back to my old friends class A's & B's, but for now, I'm remaining positive & hoping that should negative forces impact on my world, I will have the strength to get through them clean.

Next week, MM has been on a bender! (I hope not!)

Peace out people, much love MM xxx

so went to this haunted house here in town called 'sloss furnace', its some historic iron/steel furnace where 300+ men died at, and why not make it a haunted house? i went with this girl thats been letting me crash with her, so had fun there,got pretty scarred a few times because people would %ump out and shreek, or be doing crazy shit.
glad i was off yesterday because i had to do a few things, like buy shampoo,toothbrush,deoderant,toothpaste, razors, and a cellphone card. so minus all expences yesterday im down to $40+ in my wallet, and its not even close to payday again (friday) so going to have to put $20 in my gastank, buy a pack of roll up smokes, and conserve the hell out of the remaining $ i have. shit sucks because i worry about money alot, and driving back n forth 2 work 30min or so drive eats my gas up. but atleast i have a place to stay atm, have to help her walk her dogs n stuff like that, it does suck in someways because im here at mcdonalds on their internet typing this blog. brings up the darkdays of when i was sleeping in my car strung out on dope. fucking hated that shit.
dont know how the rest of the day will play out but have to be in @ work in less then a few hours, so nothing good is going to happen there because the guy that kicked me out of his place is my manager and im sure hes going to make my life hell for the night. eh i try to think that things could be worst, like i could have no place to work, no where to sleep, no money, no food,shit like that. fornow im okay with the shit i mentioned. i get off work early tonight because its sunday, so after work going to head to girls house and dunno,. i really havnt made a move on her yet.. taking things slow because shes a close friend of mine, and dont want to ruin it. i hope that she understands. anyways its always good to write about whats going on in my life, and i hope people read this and learn from my mistakes in life.
much love
ds

edit

My Uncle is on the board of a major International Pharmaceutical Company.

Just like any security leaks that mysteriously find their way into the media spot-light. Whether it be an exposed secret love affair from emails sent, bugged recorded phone calls, naked picture texts from politicians etc, celebrities and actors gossip, or there's the good old fashioned snooping on a left-on laptop in my uncle's office when I was drinking with my uncle and he passed out.

Drug Code Name: 1DiK-1VAge-2BAL-2Tit [Acronym for its Chemical Composition]

1DiK-1VAge-2BAL-2Tit: Overview
Placebo Drugs Incorporated, the Pharmaceutical Industry Leaders, develop, produce and market quality drugs licensed for use as medications, and are proud to present our most innovative discovery and product yet: 1DiK-1VAge-2BAL-2Tit (Brand name yet to be decided).

Our new miracle drug 1DiK-1VAge-2BAL-2Tit is a world first and a major break through in Pharmacology, which is the study of medicine, our speciality!

It is the world's most powerful and euphoric drug, a brand new multiple-use-management drug with a "3-way synergistic system" that is approximately 60,000 times more potent compared with Morphine and 45,000 times stronger than Methamphetamine, and 90 times the strength of Adrenochrome, which is extracted from the tongue of the Japanese Fugu puffer fish.

1DiK-1VAge-2BAL-2Tit has been in development for the last 5 years, with the worlds leading chemists collaborating on this $8000,000 project to produce a drug that will benefit millions of people around the globe.
1DiK-1VAge-2BAL-2Tit is a totally new concept, we call it the revolutionary "3-way synergistic system", the first of its kind as this has never been achieved before.

We have also found 3 brand new receptors in the brain which were never previously known to exist.
The first chemical works on the new Opioid receptor, the second chemical works on the new Methamphetamine receptor, and third new chemical works on the new Adrenochrome receptor.
With this new "3-way synergistic system" working together instead of fighting against each other, you have perfect harmony and balance. A pain relief management system without feeling drowsy, tired and fatigued. A kick-start to the day to give you an energy boost and that smarter edge at work, and last but not least a relaxed and calm well being feeling that wards off depression from today's busy and stressful lifestyle.

1DiK-1VAge-2BAL-2Tit will be promoted as a broad spectrum first line of defense, cure all miracle drug.

These include the following medical conditions:
- Ambition
- Do I look Fat-in-these-Jeans Syndrome
- Boredom
- Broken Hearts
- Blame Everybody-Else Disorder
- Camel Toe
- Camel Balls
- Dysphoria
- Drug Addiction
- Enjoyment of Life
- Enthusiasm
- Facebook Addiction
- Flatulence
- Gainful Employment
- Giving a Toss
- General Ass-Hole Personality Disorder
- Having a Bad-Day Syndrome
- Honesty
- Happiness
- I Hate-My-Job Syndrome
- I Hate-My-Life Syndrome
- Impotence
- Inferiority Complex
- Irritable Mother In-Law Syndrome
- Irritable Boss Syndrome
- Integrity
- Intelligence
- High Self Esteem
- Monday-itis
- Over Achievement
- Premature Ejaculation
- Productivity
- Stress
- Truthfulness
- Under Achievement
- World Peace (to be confirmed)

1DiK-1VAge-2BAL-2Tit should be available for release to the public for medicinal use to patients by Medical Practitioners and Psychiatrists at the completion of its six month trial on humans by December 25th 2011.

With a double-blind trial study conducted, 95% of all the subjects tested became addicted to 1DiK-1VAge-2BAL-2Tit and generally lost the ability to function normally in society and carry out their day to day activities, and were worse off than before they used 1DiK-1VAge-2BAL-2Tit.
We predict our Company will make ten billion dollars before this drug is banned and withdrawn from public use. (Note: Do not print)

It will most likely carry a minimum age restriction of 10 years and over and will be available on prescription only. (Due to it's carcinogenic properties - Do not print)

Administration of 1DiK-1VAge-2BAL-2Tit:
Not to be taken if chocolate chip cookies are consumed within the last 3 hours.
For best results take daily with a grain of salt.

* W A R N I N G ! *​

NOTE:: This is my personal and detailed experience with my 'Needle Fixation' and the 'Intravenous Drug Injecting Ritual' so it's written very explicitly.
Do not read on if this content will trigger you, leave this page now...you have been warned!
(Don't winge, complain and moan afterwards like a little bitch if you do read on)

In Love with the 'Intravenous Drug Injecting Needle Fixation Ritual' more than the actual drug itself::
These are my personal thoughts and emotions about the love of the ritual of injecting intravenous drugs so it is written very graphically in a first person perspective to get the true full impact, mindset and thoughts and emotions about what goes through my mind in the build up to the injecting process. I DO NOT discuss the actual pushing of the plunger, or the drug effects and stop just before hand. Although I was tempted to describe the rush and effects etc in my colourful use of language lol, but that may have been looked upon as glamorizing the drug experience, so maybe that can be my sequel

This thread is not meant to glamorize IV drug use which we all know is a very dumb, stupid, dangerous and unhealthy practice, not to mention very addictive to most that have tried this ROA, and potentially lethal.

I always wondered why anyone would find pleasure in stabbing themselves with needles as I have always had a major fear of needles for the last 47 years to the extent I would not even get blood tests done, until a lady friend introduced me to IV'ing a year ago after I said I would give it a try but just as a oncer.

The Ritual::
All week I've been waiting for this day to come like a kid waiting for Christmas, fantasizing, lusting, day dreaming, waiting, waiting and more waiting...
I'm feeling excited and semi-euphoric just walking out of the Pharmacy with my weekly pickup of prescribed medications, as I know in about one hour I will be in blissful ecstasy.
I eagerly rush home in a dream-like state floating one foot above the ground with my bundles of joy in plain sight and closely guarded like the crown jewels. I glance occasionally at my goodies with the same flirtatious look you give your lover. My ritual has just begun.

I love the preparation stage immensely and drag it out for as long as I can, for me this is like foreplay.
The bottom drawer in my dresser has all my injecting equipment, 200+ assorted syringes, varying sized gauge luer-lock needles, cotton filters, various sized micron wheel filters, alcohol swabs, sterile distilled water, assorted professional tourniquets, sharps containers and my trusty, shiny silver soup spoon. (thanks to the needle exchange)

I carefully set out all my medical equipment neatly on my bed and bedside dresser in tidy piles with the precision of a surgeon, and now my room does look like my own private surgery.
I subconsciously feel like I'm a Doctor or Nurse prepping a patient, some kind of twisted role playing game is being acted out and I'm totally immersed in it and enjoying every minute of it too.

Hands washed, spoon sterilized and alcohol swabbed, the room is quiet as there is no need for music yet so I can hear the amplified sounds of this medical procedure. The sound of blister pack foils bursting open and the tablets clinking as they fall into the spoon, the tearing and crunching sounds of cellophane and paper from luer-lock syringe and needle packets being ripped open, which are attached to the barrel like a silencer of a gun.

Sterile distilled water is added and the tablets swell and magically dissolve like fluffy marshmallows, the mixture is lovingly stirred with the needle cap until it disappears and turns into a liquid solution, cotton filter added, solution drawn up, micron filtered, the clink clank sound flicking the syringe with my fingernail is music to my ears. I am hypnotised watching the air bubbles rise to the top of the syringe with the same familiarity as gazing at my favourite sparkling wine's bubbles float to the surface in a wine glass. A fine jet of white laser-light liquid potion squirts out of the needle tip like a water fountain. I'm ready.

I'm in a trance-like state now as all my senses are extremely heightened and totally aware, concentrated and focused. Time has no meaning or use, there is no yesterday, there is no tomorrow, there is only now, this wonderful moment.
Alone in my room I catch a momentary glimpse of someone in the mirror, a man with a silly smirk on his face and glazed-over eyes staring back at me. It does not register.

The strong scent of isopropyl alcohol wafts through the air from the alcohol swabs being unfolded, I feel the alcohol swabs refreshing coldness glide over my skin like ice. I hear velcro mesh together as the tourniquet is gently fastened around my arm, immediately my veins spring to life and begin to bulge.
The tension is mounting as I try and steady myself and get my body comfortable and in the right position, I take a few deep breaths to get rid of any twitches and nerves. I can feel my blood pulsing through my body and can hear my heart beating so loudly I'm sure my neighbours can hear it as-well.

I mentally picture myself standing on a sprinter's running track shaking my hands at my sides, head rolling from side to side, just about to enter the starters block, that's the feeling I get every time, complete excitement mixed with nervous anticipation.

Absolute precision and accuracy are what's required next for a successful shot. One false move and its all over, a wasted shot if I miss and all that preparation and waiting for nothing.
I grip my implement the way I've been shown many times before like a delicate pen, spinning the barrel till I see the bevel of the needle catch a glint of light and it sparkles almost like an eye winking at me.

Vein ready, check. Bevel up, check. Angle ok, check. Grip ok, check. Two fingers on the plunger to jack back when registered, check. It's time.

I slowly inch the needle point closer and closer towards my favourite spot, the needle tip pierces my skin and enters my arm and the cold stainless-steel needle slowly disappears out of sight. I feel a faint sting, a little pin prick but it's slightly delayed, almost like watching a badly copied movie where the audio and video don't match and are not in synch.

I pull back gently on the plunger, and to my delight a dark cherry-red splash of vibrant colour enters the barrel in a swirling motion. I get an instant wave of relief that washes over my entire body and begin to relax now that I'm successfully plugged into my life-giving oxygen network. Tourniquet's released.

There's only one thing left to do.

The slow, steady, push...

.
This refers to drug and needle use:

It starts out like a beautiful love affair/relationship during the first 3-6 month honeymoon period...
"I loved you from the moment we were introduced, where had you been hiding all my life sexy 'needle-rush' I'm never gonna let you go, I wanna spend every second with you all to myself. I love you more than my partner, kids, parents, family, friends, job, and life itself and trust you with my life as I know you would never hurt or harm me. If you don't believe me I will prove it! When we're together it's absolute magic we're so happy it's bliss, everybody else is so envious and jealous of us".

In the middle and rock-bottom stages of addiction it's more like...
"I hate your guts 'needle-rush'! You trick me and play mind games and are ruining my life you don't love or care for me at all. I pay for your company like a prostitute and you use and abuse me 'needle-rush'! Even though I know this now I still love you and can't leave you or walk away from you because I crave you when your not here. I'm yours forever 'needle-rush' and you will come first till the day I die".

A bit dramatic but sums up how it is for me, I hope you can see where I'm coming from?

Any thoughts, comments and feedback would be great thanks...

DFNZ

View attachment 10282You know you're hanging out when your mate txts you on a Sunday to say they can get hold of your most FAVOURITE all-time yummy scrummy and very rarely available prescription opiate in New Zealand if you have cash?

And your drooling at the mere thought of it!
In Homer's voice: "mmm OxyContin 80mg aaaaaaarrrrrrrgggggggghhh".

So you rush online to check your bank balance - 'sorry no funds available'; "shit".

You take everything out of your wallet hoping you stashed some notes away when you were wasted for a rainy day like this one; "nope".

You double and triple check through all your jeans, shirts and jacket pockets; "nothin".

Madly rummage through your bedside dresser drawers, find only empty candy-bar wrappers and ciggie packets.

Frantically searching 'like a man possessed' through your car's glove-box and under car mats, devilishly plotting, deviously scheming, fiendishly thinking... I need to borrow some money that's the answer!

"Mum and Dad can I borrow some money for drugs?" - Nah, that won't work.

Maybe I could borrow some cash off my flatmate? - But he's not home.

Maybe I should steal something from him he won't mind? ... bad idea WTF!

All the while, imagining the warm rush pulsing through your veins with a glazed-over look in your eyes and a silly dumb smirk on your face...

Oh damn, no cash I'm broke after the weekend, fuck it!

Looks like I won't be getting blazzed today, anyway Sunday's my sober and clean day lol Doh!

My son knows that I abuse street drugs and prescription drugs by injecting them and wants me to show him how to do it properly and inject him intravenously, just for a oncer to see what it feels like.

He knows I have been shooting up for about a year and always asks to watch me shoot up IV drugs - Bad parent I know, but he watches me preparing my shot and I got sick of shutting the bathroom door and locking him out as he knew what I was doing in there anyway.
He does not live with me but usually visits weekly and stays 1 or 2 days a week.

He is a handsome 27 year old with a pure heart of gold and has been diagnosed with Bipolar disorder / Asperger's syndrome / Schizo-affective disorder /Schizophrenia, his diagnosis's changes from Psychiatrist to Psychiatrist and he is a self confessed alcoholic and drug abuser.
He has tried most drugs available in our country from; Crystal Methamphetamine (snorted), Ritalin, most Benzo's, DXM powder, Marijuana, Salvia, Datura, Morning Glory Seeds, HBWR Seeds, Opium Poppy's, Mescaline, Magic Mushrooms etc.

He has never worked and is incapable of doing so, as he was an uncontrollable child probably due to undiagnosed ADHD, and at 10yrs went from boy's homes to foster homes and then institutions with no formal schooling (as he was not made to go to school since the age of 10), mainly in state care or the the Mental Health System.

My son is very intelligent and is studying by correspondence at University and is passing. His intelligence is also commented on by my family, friends and flatmates and no one can beat him at chess. He is an absolute pro on the electric guitar playing all the greats like Hendrix perfectly. He enjoys his recreational drugs. He is also a book-worm and loves reading and learning facts and quoting famous or great people (which drives me crazy). He idolises Aleister Crowley, loves the occult and studying and trying out different religions. His attention span is not very long and he tends to change his mind and lose interest in things very quickly. Even when talking to him you can see him drifting off into his own thoughts and he finds it hard to stay on topic and is very impulsive and has no concept of actions and consequences.

We have a very good honest and open relationship, be it a little bit unhealthy, and always says I'm his best friend. He can discuss anything with me which I really love (including his porn collection lol). He is quite naive and innocent to ways of the world due to being institutionalised so is an easy target to being ripped off by people which happens often. He is socially awkward and tends to say inappropriate comments. I cut him some slack in this regard as I want him to be himself as he is a very special, good natured and unique boy and I didn't have that type of relationship with my Dad. He has no criminal convictions and has never been violent and is a gentle giant at 6ft 5".

He is my favourite child out of four, mainly because I know my other kids will be fine and do not have a hard road ahead of them compared to my only boy.

My question is::
Is that a line I should cross for Harm Reduction and minimization sake, or is it just too taboo?
Advice needed please on my dilemma, what are your thoughts on this differcult situation?

Note: I am very clean and sterile in my IV'ing practices (I do have OCD which helps)
The bottom drawer in my dresser has all my injecting equipment, 200+ syringes, assorted varying gauge luer-lock needles, cotton filters, varying sizes in micron filters, alcohol swabs, sterile water, assorted professional tourniquets, sharps containers (thanks to the needle exchange).

There's only two people I have let hit me up, that's the one that introduced me to the intravenous method of administration of drugs and trainer, and she still has all her veins at 38 years after IV'ing since her teens. And another friend who kindly offered.

In fact she offered to do me lastnite since it's been ages and I kindly accepted. She always blows on the needle point as it's going in to cool and lessen the sting...so thoughtful!

It's so much better being done by someone else and it takes all the stress out of concentrating on angle and registering etc...kind of giving all your trust to one person as they could kill you as mine always jacks back after the main shot to get the dregs.

There is definitely a bond like a twisted doctor and patient thing going on for me... it's like masturbation from someone else, just lay back, relax and enjoy it.

8) So i figure It is time to really clean up my life. I have abandoned a lot of important areas of my life due to drug addiction and habits, that i feel is in due time to change. I want to go to school to get my Bachelors in Psychology. Start transition work to become female, as I am transgender (first appointment on Thursday) so we will see how that goes.

Those are just two very big goals I have in life so far with I am sure many more to come. I have little goals that I will set I am sure but right now its 1. Sobriety 2. Education 3. Occupation in the mean time ( UN-employed right now) 4. Gender transition.

I feel that writing a blog will somehow keep my thoughts in order as I write stuff down here on a semi regular basis, and maybe keep myself in check if i think about slipping. I know relapse is a very probable outcome in this whole matter but id rather just mess up on occasion then it be an everyday thing.

My Drug of choice is Heroin and just about all opiates. I have a big thing for psychedelics but don't have any interest in stopping the use of these as they are great teachers to better understand I feel providing you don't get lost in them.

I choose tomorrow night at 8 pm to be my sober launch date as I am going to have one hell of a last Horahh all day. and then boom cold turkey will I succeed? meh maybe but I am going to at least try my best.

Peace and people

edit

It's day #2, or day 1, dont know for sure, yesterday i was kicked out my current living arrangement's, and been having a hard time coping with that. it was so close to where i work, and had the internet so i could do all my internet needs there.
after the shitstorm happened between my roomate and i things havnt been the same for me. I was able to find a place to stay about 30mins away from where i work, and on a shitty sallery/paycheck i dont know if ill be able to make it because of gas to much longer.
last night i left work at 10:30ish and left to her house, needless to say i got lost trying to take backroads to the freeway, ended up in the hood, some shit from a gangsta rap film. so finally after 15mins later i found the freeway and my dumbass took the long way because i wanted to get there ASAP, so i got to her place around 11:30 and talked to her about shit in general like hows life,hows work going, thanks for letting me crash here. she was totally cool about it, and gave me her spare apartment key. she doesnt have the internet so i find myself doing nothing but tossing and turning on the couch.
fastfoawrd to morning, she had 2 leave to work early, and i slept in till about 10, took her dogs for a walk, or they took me for a walk, came back took a shower, then left to run a few aarons, had 2 hit up wallmart and get a few toiltries and had to get a phonecard for my phone, which ran into trouble with that shit again, i swear Net10 prepaid phones suck, so had 2 call their 1800# from the wallmart phone which took about 30mins, and had to ask the indian chick to repeat everything she was saying about 20times, i told her i have a hearing problem (i dont really have a hearing problem,told her that so i could understand what the fuck she was trying to say). finally the problem was that my phone wasnt activated, so she gave me a new #, and some *# to call, finally after 10mins i gave it a try and it worked! so i have a phone now which is a good thing.
so i haddnt eatn anything for 48hours until a little while ago, because of all the shits thats been going on with me i really had no desire for food, and finally i got hungry and ate some chick-fil-a.
now i'm here in the libary on the internet, updating my blog now, and checking prices for some local haunted house type places. theres 1 that i'd like to go to costs $20 per person. which i dont get again until next friday.. so gotta be very carful on what i spend money on and who and what.well i think all will be well tonight, we shall see where the day leads to, will try to update everyday, but if i cant then ill try when ever i have internet connection, peace out and wish me luck with what ever i may face in the coming days.
ds

pal·imp·sest; [pal-imp-sest]
noun
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a parchment or the like from which writing has been partially or completely erased to make room for another text

Repeating voices before I woke.

I was using bathroom in dream.
A lot of conflict.

3 people. I accidentally killed a friend. First a girl- then she was a boy. Then a girl. Although I knew it was wrong and it was an accident I didn’t feel like I deserved punishment. I didn’t feel much, at all. I think I was doing something like helping them. Trying to put their name tag on them? I accepted their death.

I remember someone carrying their body, wrapped in cloth, to somewhere, to dispose of it. We were in a house/apartment. A man was waiting for her, outside- a guy I recognize as a courier, but he might not have had the same face. He just stood there waiting for her, stubborn. I did get emotional with him. It was screwed up him waiting for her, outside, unmoving, while she had accidentally been killed, inside. What do we tell the guy.

But a friend wanted to cut up their body and feed it to pigs- to dispose of evidence, walking it by the guy. There was a short exposure to police- who the death/disappearance was reported to. They didn’t seem suspecting of us. We all seemed trustworthy.

The friend that wanted to cut her up and did feed her to pigs had ordered chinese. I had been in conflict with someone, perhaps her (and/or him?) but through this situation, that was set aside. We all became kind of close. But there was tension of course.

The body was now not her, but parts of a skinned pig. In the toilet, partially broken down.

I told a girl that was there of an investigation possible. How was it not? In the bathroom I told her. Why would an accidental murder that was reported… why would that person cut her up and feed her to pigs, and why are the pig parts now cut up, in the toilet? How did they miss the toilet?

She held my hand as I sat down to go to the bathroom. And another friend comes in. Jovial attitude for everyone joining in on this.

This is about where the dream ended. “I love Vortex.” “I love Vortex.” … and again, “I love Vortex.”

I remember in parts thinking about calling friend’s mother to give them my condolences. The one murdered seemed in my mind to fluctuate between him, and her. Her was a girl that I thought was Marie- a girl in my old neighborhood- from, we both lived there, and she was my most steady exposure growing up to a girl of near age, I think- being that close. But then I think she was the live one. There’s of course a lot lot lot I don’t remember, and it may not be important. One other that she was- and this was somehow before the others, as I remember such an emotional connection (then again, Marie too), was Donna- a girl, who I (have) kid(ded) myself over a lot. I somehow didn’t feel bad. It was sort of-almost relief that she was dead. It was.

Of course, not ideal, and I don’t wish death on her, consciously- but I imagine a part of me is so small, that it would be relieved… that if she’s not with me, she’s not alive. Of course, I’d disagree, but I admit I’m pretty small, in ways.

The way they (or just she was) were killed- I think it was by decapitation. There was a definite feeling of that/being cut at the neck. Her facebook picture, as recent as the past 8 hours, as of writing, is a picture of her head- only, cut off at the neck.

You could say I am obsessive. Wouldn’t you be? She’s like… perfect.