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im from new jersey and im looking for molly only had it once some body get at me
I dont even know how to put this feeling into words its a strong confusion of regret, nostalgia, and pain. I was home this weekend and it felt so wrong. I dont know what happened but I have changed. I am now a man without a country. I saw all my old friends but there was nothing there, no spark, nothing. Its over and I cant believe it. We were supposed to be brothers, but things have changed. In retrospect I can observe the decisions I made that contributed to this end and this hurts. I traded it for heroin, shit I was willing to trade everything for heroin. If I could take it back? I would and thats tough to say because I sacrificed alot of good things to fill that needle sized hole in my soul. The worst part is that I have become incredibly selfish I only think about me its always drew...drew...drew how does this effect drew. I have no personality no vitality im boring and that is tough to accept. I need to reinvent myself somehow. I want to wake up a differant person. I need to escape.
I havn't written in here for a while, so I figured I might as well update this thing...

It's been a rather intense past month, and after my relapse, things got a little messy for a while as I eased my way back into a storm of flickering lights and bleeding arms.

I stopped going to school almost entirely and instead sat under bridges and waited for stoned spaniards to bring me heroin. I'd sit at the bus stop with my sketchbook out, trying to draw the homeless man to my left, looking down when the squad cars passed, and pretending to get calls on my cellphone whenever the bus arrived.

When I'd cop I'd run to the nearbye bathroom at McDonalds and lock myself in, throwing my bag down on the ground and quickly fixing up a shot. With the grace of a pro, Id kneel down on the floor, steadying my hand, inserting the needle into my arm, registering, shooting, flushing the toilet, running the sink. I'd walk out right as the dope exploded in my brain, and though I'd be surrounded by the stench of hydrogenated oils and pink slime, I'd smell flowers and exit through the door, passing the garages, warehouses and schools, until I'd reach the train.

I'd sit outside my school for hours, not going to class, just nodding out in front of the cafeteria, ciggarettes burning my fingertips and littering my pants with ash and soot. I'd walk down to Tompkins Square park; not to cop but to see if my friend Mark was still alive. I never saw him and it didn't really hurt that bad.

I met a girl that I really fucking like, someone I can say whatever I want to and she still thinks I'm cool. She's talented, intelligent and sexy, and I cant believe that I could ever meet someone like this. Statistically the odds just seem impossible but I suppose good things (I mean, REALLY good things, not just like finding a bag of dope on the street), do happen. I once thought it was kind of liberating to transcend the desires of the flesh and replace them with sinister chemical seductions, but its kind of nice to have it switch around once again. It's nice to enjoy talking with someone, without thinking "God Damn, when will this mother fucker leave so I can find a way to shoot some dope!"

Through a forest made of worn hypodermics, bent spoons and cracked out lighters I kind of see a path out of desperation, and it's not through group therapy, twelve step programs, or even total and complete abstinence. If that works for others that's great but I've given it the best shot I've been able to muster at this age, and I know when I dont "feel" something. I just got to do what I feel is right for me, because that's the only way I can escape a life where I'm sitting in some shithole mutiliating my arms with cocaine.
A Medical Lake homeowner, attempting to protect his illegally grown marijuana, has been charged in Superior Court on second degree assault, in the December shooting of the 14 year old boy accused of trying to steal it. Justin Jeffrey Brown, along with his wife, Melissa Ann, also faces charges of growing and possessing marijuana at his home on North Grant Avenue. According to detectives, the 14 year old boy and a friend had gone to the home because they had, allegedly, stolen plants there before. When the home’s security motion sensor alarm went off, Brown responded with a .45 caliber handgun and allegedly shot the boy as he tried to leave the growing room. The injured boys accomplice, reportedly, ran home and told his parents, who contacted the police shortly after.

The Browns reported to police that they had been issued a medical marijuana growing license, but that it had expired and they had only been cultivating the plants for a month. During a search of the Brown’s property, however, evidence was obtained indicating a much larger operation and the accomplice told police he had taken plants and paraphernalia back in December of 2011.

Criminal Law News Brought To You By http://509CriminalLawyers.com
I recently had a foray with methamphetamine, and I will never do it again. The day after, I felt like total shit. The second day, I had the worst panic attack I have ever had. That entire week I could not eat without throwing up. Things have gotten somewhat more bearable as time passes. My heart rate rises very easily now. I have an almost constant migraine. It's been three weeks. Sleep is the only relief I get, minus a few minutes during the day where my body seems to say "Alright, Ash. You get to feel normal. But only for now!" I eat breakfast, and by lunch I am ravenous. My vision will momentarily blur at random points throughout the day, I have a perpetual case of heartburn, and my arms tingle at times. I find myself bartering with god to make this go away. I see spots and floaters in my field of vision, and I recently learned that .5mg of Ativan makes that go away. How much longer is this hell going to last?
THE MOON is distant from the sea,
And yet with amber hands
She leads him, docile as a boy,
Along appointed sands.

He never misses a degree; 5
Obedient to her eye,
He comes just so far toward the town,
Just so far goes away.

Oh, Signor, thine the amber hand,
And mine the distant sea,— 10
Obedient to the least command
Thine eyes impose on me.
------------------------------------------

PROUD of my broken heart since thou didst break it,
Proud of the pain I did not feel till thee,
Proud of my night since thou with moons dost slake it,
Not to partake thy passion, my humility.
-------------------------------------------

LET me not mar that perfect dream
By an auroral stain,
But so adjust my daily night
That it will come again.

-source
tripple c's and meth at the same time.
i don't know if anyone has experienced both of these drugs separately, one makes things go fast. the other makes things go slow.
so what the hell is this called?
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it's all nice on ice alright!
I HIDE myself within my flower,
That wearing on your breast,
You, unsuspecting, wear me too
And angels know the rest.

I hide myself within my flower,
That, fading from your vase,
You, unsuspecting, feel for me
Almost a loneliness.

Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson speaks for me:

DEPARTED to the judgment,
A mighty afternoon;
Great clouds like ushers leaning,
Creation looking on.

The flesh surrendered, cancelled, 5
The bodiless begun;
Two worlds, like audiences, disperse
And leave the soul alone.

----------------------------
LOOK back on time with kindly eyes,
He doubtless did his best;
How softly sinks his trembling sun
In human nature’s west!
------------------------------
I MEASURE every grief I meet
With analytic eyes;
I wonder if it weighs like mine,
Or has an easier size.

I wonder if they bore it long, 5
Or did it just begin?
I could not tell the date of mine,
It feels so old a pain.

I wonder if it hurts to live,
And if they have to try, 10
And whether, could they choose between,
They would not rather die.

I wonder if when years have piled—
Some thousands—on the cause
Of early hurt, if such a lapse 15
Could give them any pause;

Or would they go on aching still
Through centuries above,
Enlightened to a larger pain
By contrast with the love. 20

The grieved are many, I am told;
The reason deeper lies,—
Death is but one and comes but once,
And only nails the eyes.

There ’s grief of want, and grief of cold,— 25
A sort they call “despair”;
There ’s banishment from native eyes,
In sight of native air.

And though I may not guess the kind
Correctly, yet to me 30
A piercing comfort it affords
In passing Calvary,

To note the fashions of the cross,
Of those that stand alone,
Still fascinated to presume 35
That some are like my own.

-----------------------------------------
YOU left me, sweet, two legacies,—
A legacy of love
A Heavenly Father would content,
Had He the offer of;

You left me boundaries of pain 5
Capacious as the sea,
Between eternity and time,
Your consciousness and me
First off, a little introduction. I'm a long time lurker -- first time poster on BlueLight. I've used opiates, specifically Oxycodone, Morphine and Methadone, for the last 4 or so years since 2008 when I was 18. I'm 22 now and my entire adult life has been spent in addiction. I started with OxyContin 20mg ERs and used IV from the first time. After my first shot (20mg IV) I burst out laughing and asked my friends why everyone didn't do this all the time. I had found my calling in the form of a small pink pill.

From then on I used whenever I could, a few times a week. By February 2009 I was full-on hooked on usage at least once a day and reaching 80mg daily. I lived with a 4 other people who all used various amounts. My friend KW was on my level, using every day and hooked. DM was a little less than us but still used whenever he could but didn't resort to the same tactics as KW and myself. ST, GR, DB, AF, AW and SM were all friends of mine who began use after KW and I introduced them to it. Eventually the majority of us were getting sick and scoring every day -- either Oxy20, MST100 and Methadone15 -- eventually KW, DM, GR and ST moved cities and ran from their addiction and managed to stay clean to various degrees. AF, AW, DB and SM stayed in our city and continued to use. After sometime we met DW who sold Oxy20s. At first only I could score from him and so I hooked up the others and made a cut, but eventually I introduced them all to him when I was trying to detox. DW would give us huge amounts on credit and I currently owe him over $10,000 and the same with the rest of us. I have detoxed and come through withdrawal the entire way over 15 times but I always relapse because I can go to this guy at any time and get stuff on credit and so I yo-yo from clean to binging every few weeks or months.

To pay off some debt, I ended up doing a series of crimes that landed me in jail for 6 months, probation for another 9. During my stint in prison I detoxed but the day I got out I thought I deserved a treat and got an OC80 and then 4 OC20s later in the day. The next day I burgled DW and took 8 cards on Oxy20, so 80 pills. This got me hooked again, and I continued use until now, 12 months later which brings me to the present.

I'm currently part-way through the process of applying for methadone. I have been entered into the system and have to fail 3 drug screening tests to make sure I'm dependant on opiates, and after that they will put me on until I reach a blockade dosage where I won't be sick and other opiates won't have any effect. This is a last resort for me, having been unable to remain clean for longer than a month ever, except for my time in jail. I know the downsides of methadone but I see no other way out other than death which I would prefer to avoid. I get terrible anxiety around anyone whenever I'm not wrapped in that blanket of opiates and the world seems terrifying. I have a long-term girlfriend who I have been with for 18 months and she uses occasionally but I haven't let her take enough to get a habit. She is the most wonderful woman and helps me when I'm sick -- she even used to give me her own pain meds when I couldn't score so that I wouldn't be ill. She works part-time in a shitty minimum wage job so that we can afford to eat and pay our bills even with me wasting all my money on Oxy. This is one of the main reasons for my going on the program because then my money can be used for real things and not go into my veins. Another reason is so that I will be stable enough to enter a training program where I want to study Addiction Therapy and become and Drug and Alcohol worker -- I want to make a difference and help people who are where I was and put these awful years to good use.

My first screening test is this Friday and will be ongoing for the next 2 Fridays after which point I'll be fully inducted to the program, see the doctor, and start finding my dosage. I'm not sure the purpose of this blog, or whether anyone will read it, but I'll be posting regularly the next few weeks with how my progress is going and detailed descriptions of the messy life I have to lead while waiting for it and hope that I can keep the plates spinning in my life for just a few weeks more.

Thank you for reading and I'd love any feedback, advice or personal stories that relate to my situation.
Wish me luck.

-RB.
I have been snorting Ritalin for over a year now and I am starting to have pains in my throat and trouble breathing at times. Can doing this give me lung or throat cancer?
finally i did it;)
It is night and i wakeup @ 2am feel absolutely perfect, i drop 10mg valium coz i need to go to bed, again im going to work tomoz at day time,
all my wds from suboxone completly gone and used only 150mg MXE, for four days..
The best way do it is snort, 20mg MXE on a first day it will remove all wds symptoms and make a juice with 10-15mg in it, as soon as wds back drink a bit from the juice and they gone again on the end u get very tired of MXE and start yawning, drop 10mg valium there in its switch u off for 6-7h.
For the next 4-5 days do the same thing, u will have good while on mxe and u get clean. If u read my previous posts i done lot of mistakes b4 i found the best way :)
here is original post:
http://www.bluelight.ru/vb/threads/617675-Can-Anyone-Help-me-to-get-off-suboxone-and-valium-situation-is-not-that-bad

Middle post there ! Good luck !! stay clear !
I had started with my first dose of Vyvanse early this morning, at around 7:30AM. Its 7:20PM now. I have taken 5 pills, 30mg each, throughout the day. After I had already downed the 5th pill, I had the bright idea that maybe i should check out what the overdose range is. Most say 140/150 as the number of too much. Ive also seen people talking about taking in the 2-300's themselves without overdosing. I have read the symptoms, and so far I am fine. But its only been about two hour since I took the last. You should also know, Im a recovering drug addict and have experience with extacy and other uppers, so I do know how to tell real symptoms from my mind creating symptoms. But, Im also on methadone which I have been told amplifies many drugs, including this ADD medication.
What Im hoping to find out, since there isnt a clear threshold and tolerance dose, is how long before I have a good idea that Im in the clear? I know that just because X amount of hours has passed and Im fine so far, things can change. Is there any info, opinions even, about how much time till Im in the somewhat safe zone?
I asked Yahoo Answers after 1 hour and got an uninformed opinion by someone who has taken their ADD meds as prescribed. They told me I should be fine, and since another hour has passed I agree.
But this is still an important question, across the board, for any legal or illegal drug...How much time needs to pass? The half life of the drug? Full duration?
Thanks for any help& ideas!
I just needed to say that to someone. I was 15 days clean today and I have had a bit of a relapse. I will write more about it later but right now I just needed to say what is in the title of this blog. I have people in my life who have been supporting me in my recovery and I just do not have the courage right now to say it except here in anonymity. It almost seems like a vane statement now that I look at it. Of course we are all flawed and make mistakes nobody is perfect why should I of all people be any different. I guess I just felt like I was doing so well and am feeling like I let a lot of people down. There are lots of mixed emotions going through my head right now and I can not begin to piece it together so I will just share a few things I wrote recently. Since I have gotten this bug to take thoughts from my head and put them in words. I do not think I would call it poetry at least not 'good' poetry. Even re-reading it now it feels somewhat forced and contrived. But the first one in particular is relevant to my current mood since I just typed it out after getting high so I will share it anyways;

It is my pain, my emptyness
My undying sadness
I try to abstain, this temptress
My persisting sickness
But my life's bane, is endless

This is just something I wrote the other day while I was sober.

Sometimes the darkness can come in disguise
It makes us sweet promises but all of them lies
I lie awake at night and think of the weight on us all
I wonder how do we carry it and not trip and fall
All the unanswerable questions that plague all our minds
No chance to contemplate them we dont have the time
Existing just a brief moment then alone we all die
While a cold and cruel universe just passes us by
Our hubristic nature is the curse we all share
Imagining the cosmos a kingdom where we are the heir
But really we are just children the vastness has birthed
Just dust from the stars then returned to the earth
So really our essence our soul is much older
Continually reused and recycled over and over
I think the answers are stored there deep in our mind
But before we remember we are defeated by time
Doctors. Drug dealers. Lawyers. Significant others. Friends. Family. Strangers, even. They'll all let you down. They'll suck everything they can from you and promise things in order to keep stringing you along and sucking you dry... Then when it's time to deliver, poof, nothing. So I'm going to change they way I deal with the world around me. Everyone, by default, is a no good fucking selfish liar until proven otherwise. That's my new motto. I'm not a liar. I don't lie to people. I'm probably honest to a fault. I'm fucking generous to people. I'm nice to them. I give them shit. Everything I fucking say I'm going to do, I do. This sounds kind of schizo, but whatever, I've found it to be true. I've trusted people and they've hurt me. And it keeps happening, over and over again. I suppose some people haven't hurt me on purpose. I guess it's just hurtful when you're so insignificant to someone that they don't give a shit about promises they've made to you. Fuck it. Fuck you, fuck them, fuck me, fuck everyone.

It's every man for themselves, so be it.
I suffer from ADHD, Ive been on Adderall for 4 years and every year my doctor increases my dosage, because it becomes obvious toward the later part of that year my actions are reverting back to that chaotic life. I'm at 80mg instant release and I've been on vivance, concerta, rittlin, and stratera, that last one made me real sick..... I showed instant improvement with adderall, so that was a keeper, however, I didn't know what I was in for.
I've been real good with my life up until this past year. I've noticed an odd smell coming from what I think is my pores and it's only during the 6-8 hours I'm on the medication, well, a couple hours after as well, which is why I think the smell is related to the increase of medication. The smell resembles a little like wet dog and a little like fart (bad egg). I've been through 3 jobs already this year because of my paranoia of smelling bad at work and I can only use so many colognes. Before you think I'm paranoid as a result of the medication (which was my first thought) I began to closely watch for faces , because most people just won't tell you you smell bad, but sure enough, they were there, followed by some avoiding behavior.
Could somebody tell me why I may be experiencing this, I'd like to keep things going they way they were and if anybody knows someone with ADHD, it's almost impossible to change something that works productively for them.
I got my first oxy prescription a little while ago - really helped with my pain, plus a great buzz. Went to get a repeat today and the doc says he can't do a repeat without an authority. He says I will need to go see an orthopaedic surgeon and he can't guarantee that this surgeon character will be sympathetic to my needs. He is implying, I think, that the specialist will advocate spinal surgery for a bullshit sciatic nerve, instead of just giving me painkillers that help me manage the pain perfectly well. Apart from the fact that I enjoy the oxy and it works well for me, I don't want people messing around with my spinal cord and the nerves around it. Kind of a phobia of mine.
And I'm pissed off. If my doc couldn't give me a repeat, what the hell was the point of teasing me with one script! Grrr! Back to Tramadol :(
(forward:i used to be smart. one day, when i go to college to be a writer i'll be able to do this story justice. but for now, i'll just do meth and write it all as quickly and sloppily as possible without editing any of it. because i need to tell someone. it's almost impossible to follow, but if you can get the gist of it, it's pretty cool i think all i ask as that you don't judge my writing ability by this. this is not how i write. also, is this incriminating? please let me know if it is)just thinking about writing this made me tired.
i might die in the process, ya know? According to the super secret dextroverse forums DXM and meth combined can cause lot's of heart complications. oh well.i'm sick. when i started shooting meth, chest pain was a positive sign. meant that i was high. in the case of needles, the closer you are to death, the closer you are to nirvana. with heroin, it's blue lips, white splotches in the face, getting slapped by your friends.

speaking of shooting up.
white sands. new mexico. rehab. the surreal twilit desert. a city on a hill.
i met a girl. she was beautiful and she was damaged and just like me she was out of her element.
we were young, hip, attractive, intelligent drug users. i was in a men's rehab, she was in a women's rehab. both of us lived with middle aged-elderly drug addicts. uneducated. in sorry shape. we saw each other and it was a no brainer.

we started college, so we had free reign over our time. the rehab directors didn't know enough about college to regulate us. while everyone else was in group or in an a.a. meeting we were having sex in the designated smoking "gazebos" and in the desert.
she was above me. i had never met anyone cooler than me, so i was in awe. her music was better, her drugs addiction was much more severe, and her... oh god. i tried. i had shot up twice in my life. ketamine once, and a weak shot of meth in jail. i tried to pretend to be a junkie and i tried to understand her but i didn't. so i lied. and she knew. and she didn't trust me. and our relationship became depraved before too long. mostly because i didn't understand. if i had understood the mentality of a sober junkie i might have been able to win her love... but we moved out of rehab and in to an apartment and two weeks later she bounced back to albuquerque, back to heroin, and i relapsed and was committed to a mental hospital in roswell. she came back though. i broke out of the mental hospital and through a bizarre chain of events ended up selling my soul to jesus for a bus ticket back to my desert home where she was waiting. of course, two days later she was gone. she had just come to get her check. so i'm drinking. dxm and alcohol and i start talking to my neighbor who i thought was a good sober a.a. person. his girl had just left him too. we started talking. about suicide, i fed him coricidon, and before we knew it we were headed toward roswell to pick up his girlfriend from her mom's (the dope dealers) house. i took with me all my savings. i bought threehundred dollars worth of fire. and in a gas station parking lot i did my first real shot of meth. it drew back blue. sixty units. my friend later said he didn't know what he was thinking. he hit me. i coughed and saw my soul depart from my mouth, the world rushed and we undertook a perilous adventure. three guys doing massive shots in a cadilac with the dope dealers daughter (who smoked a bunch but had no idea we were doing shots)trying to leave roswell. after much drama we got the daughter from her mom's house, for some reason we picked up a ceiling fan, then we went to see her grandparents and her kid (by we i mean my friend and her, me and the driver dude stayed in the car and did more shots) then we had to get my property from the mental hospital. we sat around for about an hour before we became paranoid and decided to leave. we then visited the grave of my friends childhood friend who had recently been shot in a drug deal gone bad. then we drove through the mountains, high as fuck, shooting a blue pistol out the window. a cop flashed his lights, and i put my syringe in my ass cheeks, but he turned around. we got back to my desert town. i had about two hundred dollars worth of FIRE and probation the next morning. so i went all night without touching it(i couldn't hit myself anyways). my other neighbors a husband and wife in sobriety trying to get their kids back were giving me a ride. i pulled the husband off to the side, and told him there was something in my medicine cabinate and that if i went to jail to take it and get rid of it. i went to probation. i waited. the longest stretch of time i've ever experienced. my p.o. walks out in to the waiting room with a briefcase. he has to go. i'm saved. i call my friends. they pick me up. i'm walking back to my apartment when my neighbor pulls me to the side. "i did some of your shit". oh you idiot. you moron. why would you do that with so much at risk? why would you make me feel so bad? you relapsed on my dope and you're gonna lose your kids!! oh hey, since i'm not going to jail i'm gonna do some more dope. can you hit me? we did shots. we did 200 dollars worth of fire in a day. his wife found out. they argued. i stared out the peephole of my door for about twelve hours. i had twenty dollars left. i was in hell.

but of course! a solution. i went to my other neighbor. asked him if he could get heroin. i had never done heroin, but a girl had just left me for heroin, and heroin sounds like a great way to end my misery.

i end up waiting all day, in hell. throwing water on random white spots, seeing if they break down.

but i get my heroin.
and it was glorious. my friend and his friend both of them blue in the lips and white in the face came over. they hit me. told me to stand up and hold on. sat a cigarette on the counter, hit me. gave me my first shot of heroin. and ran.



ha. what meth comedown?

so i discover i.v. drugs, i start pawning shit, i have no money, and i'm in jail within two weeks.
three months i sit there. they let me out on the condition that i go back to rehab.
i'm in rehab a week. i'm working for the carnival getting high in secret, wanting to do a shot.
a diabetic man, we'll call him jeff is in rehab with me. i have a 20 of mephedrone. it's 1am and i'm on cough medicine.
sitting in the dark of the kitchen jeff walks in, just the man i wanted to see.
i cock my eyebrow and say "so, how long you been sober" next thing you know we're shooting up bath salt (i'm trying anyways, this is the beginning of my learning to shoot myself up saga) and next thing you know we're scoring meth from some homeless guy in the desert and next thing you know we're driving to clovis, i'm on the run, with my carnival money and old boy is gonna teach me to sell dope. his cousin is the dope dealer. so we get an eight ball, and instead of selling it, end up doing it. first with these two older women, then we start moving around, we spend the night at the connects house (in the tool shed anyways) and i become convinced we're in this adult carnival peepshow. i think i'm about to have sex with the dope dealers wife and he almost beats me up. i haven't slept in like 4 days, and am doing shots bigger than ever. then we go with these two gay guys and this redhead who is obsessed with jesus. she tried to have sex with me, but i was psychotic and had been up for days and didn't know what was going on. the next day, i'm borrowing money from my family, saying i'm being held hostage by drug dealers, and on the way to get the moneygram i become convinced that my friend jeff turned me in and the cops are coming and that the jesus girl was a part of the carnival and ashamed and that i was saving her and that the girl from rehab was in the ceiling and that we were about to do all my dope together and i went in to this straight up psychotic episode and finally. sleep. i woke up the next morning on a matress in a toolshed next to a dog and an old guy. i have a pocketful of dope and i get everyone high. i spend the next month running errands and having adventures and doing dope and babysitting for dope and on the run at an all time low.... i meet this beautiful heroin/speed junkie named leslie and she breaks down "the game" and spends the next month trying to teach me to hit myself. long story short, jeff and i get arrested selling dope to this deaf prostitute. luckily they didn't actually catch us selling dope, but got us for warrants instead. i'm in jail again. i get out. go on a mission for a shot. i had never successfully hit myself, but the first time outta jail i did it no problem. after a week or two homeless, bouncin' around, i decide to head back home. texas. to my family.

so i'm at the gr
wI can see what's happening... I'm going back down that road, that I said I wouldn't. I untangled my mess of a life... only to end up back where I was before. I was supposed to go to an NA meeting today for the first time but I totally forgot and slept through the time it was supposed to start. I would have never made it.

Tomorrow is my girlfriend's birthday and I don't have anything to give her. She told me all she wants from me is a nice home cooked meal. Which I can do for her. I will go all out for her. But I've come so far away from what I was. She deserves the world but all she's got is me, a fucking loser pathetic pillhead for a girlfriend... I am certainly no catch. At least not in the state I am in right now. :(

A couple of years ago, I was working so I was able to take her to Vermont for a week for her birthday. We enjoyed the weather (April in Vermont is beautiful). We rented a hotel room, brought a bunch of MDMA, benzos and pot brownies (this was on Amtrak, where you can get away with shit like that.)

I just want to be the woman that my girlfriend deserves.
So I have slipped up and got a little messy with covering up my drug use. My mother found one of my toots with powder in it. I'm not really sure how I can play that off but for now at least I can avoid it. However I did tell her about the time with me getting robbed and a gun being pulled out on me. Also why I came home bitching about wanting to throw a brick through some girls window. The thing is I lied about why it all happened and twisted the stories so it would look like it wasn't my fault. I also made sure to tell her I had no idea the girl I was with was a heroin addict and I didn't know at the time she was going to be picking up dope. She then asked me if I ever did heroin? She asked calmly but in the end I straight up lied to her face. Heroin? No, I never touched it and I wouldn't ever do that. Ugh, I can't believe I lied to her and she told me that she was happy to know that. I'm not sure if my mother is in denial or what but then again I rather have her try to deny that her daughter is an addict.

However, the worst thing ever is during our talk she told me about this women we know. She comes over to one of the ladies apartments and I guess the chick is shooting up. She told me how our neighbor saw the track marks and even saw her do a deal before. And all I could thing in my head was, she uses? Damn, maybe I can hit her up when I see her next. What the hell? Why do I have to automatically think that.. Ugh, if only my mother didn't have to tell me about that.

Other than that I am still using other drugs but I'm going to cut back on those as well. I'm pretty sure I should just become completely sober but I'm more worried about staying away from dope right now. I know I can do that at least for now but I am more concerned about when I see my friend soon who I haven't seen in awhile. They still use dope and even thinks I do. They even offered to bring dope and suggested that we cop it together. The shitty thing is I went along with saying yes and agreeing to do it even though I was thinking don't do it. You know you don't want to do it but then again getting high on heroin would be so nice. Luckily I still know that I shouldn't and I know I won't do it in the time being but I'm afraid of what may happen when this opportunity arises. I just wish things could be easier. I wish my brother never got me into drugs or drinking when I was fifteen but I can't change what has already been done. There is no going back in time so I have to live with the choices I have made.

So for now I will continue to try to make my life better and improve in certain areas of my life. I even applied for a second job and the interview went great! I'm not sure how I will manage working this other job if I do get hired though but I guess I'll figure it out. If the hours don't work for me then I can try to see if I can change them or just turn down the possible job offer. In the end I just want to continue working at the one job I have now and enroll into college this fall. School is going to have to be my first priority.
I think I'm done with dope for now and even drugs period. To be honest this whole doing drugs thing isn't what I want to do anymore, at least not now. I haven't done heroin in like a month or less? Sadly I really don't remember (another reason why I want to quit using drugs...my memory is shot) but if I made it that long without dope I should consider myself lucky and call it quits. Also I'm tired of being fucked up all the time. I miss being motivated and when my life was revolved around accomplishing my goals and dreams... But now my life is only revolved around doing drugs. There really hasn't been a day in a very long time where I haven't been fucked up. I know I use because it makes me forget about everything going on in my life but that's the problem! I don't want to self medicate and act like nothing is wrong for a little bit but then sober up to know my life is more fucked up than ever. Ugh, I'm so sick and tired of this shit. I'm sick and tired of being this fuck up. I want more than what I have now and I have realized the only way I can do that is if I quit using drugs.

When I'm using I have no care in the world and all I do is walk around the city with my friend....wasting my life away. When I'm high I don't want to accomplish anything and all I want to do is never comedown but of course I always do. Then its back to hating life until I can get high once again. Wow, such an interesting life... Why can't my life be normal? Why can't things just be easier? If only I had the answer to those questions. So I'm done using for now and I'm not sure if ill start again anytime soon but I have other priorities that need to come first. I mean some people might think I'm crazy but the truth is I know this is the right thing to do. I'm actually going to do something with my life and finally dig myself out of this hole that I am in. I'm going to be going to college and I'm even moving out! Isn't that great? Well to me it is. I even am picking up more hours at work and also applied for another job. If I can get the extra money I need I'll even be able to get myself a car which I so desperately need.

So in the end this is all is so much better than just being a drug addict. Maybe I'll even be able to get better and pull myself out of this depression.. Who knows? I'm just going to go with the flow and see where life takes me. I'm going to get myself back up on my feet and yes it will be hard but I know I can do it. I have faith in myself, everything will get better. I know it will because I cut ties with all my dope connects and even said goodbye to my "friend" I always scored with. Yeah, that was hard but it's for the better. In the mean time I have found love to fill this void inside and other little things to keep me going.

I have to keep on going because I want to make everyone proud of me again. I don't want to remain this failure. The other thing is the day of my boyfriend's death is coming up soon. April 18th will make it a year and I know its going to be so hard... I mean it already is now. So I know I need to get clean and remain strong. Not just for me or my family and friends but for him. He died of a heroin overdose and for me to be using is so messed up. Yes, its how I cope but then again I know its going to be the death of me. All this shit I'm doing is slowly killing me and I'm only eighteen. I don't want to die yet. I did at one point and maybe I still kind of want to but not as much as I did before. However, I was weak and beaten down. I didn't think I could make it through another day but I'm still here. I'm still here to live another day because I'm stronger than ever. I'm going to be okay. That's the phrase I need to repeat in my mind everyday until I don't need to anymore.
Playing a show in a week at the Bitter End..excited, but the last time I played there..It was an acoustic set, I'd just fixed in a cab 15 minutes before going on stage and long story short, I fell off the stool and face planted on the stage, CRACK! Lights fuckin' out. The nuts in the audience still cheered though, so as long as I was entertaining, eh? Here's to a repeat performance! ;)
Today I woke up bright and early a very proud 15 days sober. After showering and brushing my teeth I stepped out onto my back deck in my boxer shorts and a giant beach towel wrapped around me. Holy shit it was cold. It had been warm all week and I am not one to watch the weather forecast so the cold air shocked me back inside. I had planned on running again today but it was drizzling rain and dreary as well. I scrambled a few eggs and sat down to eat my breakfast and decide how to spend my Sunday. I had no idea then that my sobriety would be tested soon. Or that my resolve would step aside so willingly.

Yesterday was a good day. I have been having a string of good days really. I had somewhat of a routine going with the waking up early, getting out and running, trying to eat healthy. I still feel incomplete though in some way. I am still self medicating with the Clonazepam and weed it is not like I can not function "normally". I have had this whole week off work but I had been going to hang out with friends. I have been seeing this girl that I have explained my addiction to and she has been very supportive. I even went to the local track last night to watch the Jones v. Evans UFC fights and socialized with work friends. But it feels like all that is just trying to fill this hole that as hard as I try never quite gets filled.

After finishing my breakfast I decided
to just have a lazy Sunday. I packed my bong and cycled through my DVR until I decided to rewatch last weeks episode of 'Game of Thrones.' I am just about to finish the episode and have burned through the bong when I decide I need to score some benzo's because I am out. I text my guy and tell him to hit me back when he rolls his lazy ass out of bed. I was pretty stoned so I just laid there on my laptop reading the highlights from last nights spring college football game maybe responded to a post on TDS. Just generally having a lazy Sunday like I planned.

Eventually my guy texts me back and tells me I can swing by whenever. I get up and throw on some jeans and a hoody and head out immediately. I have to drive past my guys house to go to the bank so I can hit the ATM first. When I drive by I notice that there is a truck in his driveway. A truck that I know well as it belongs to one of my old Opana hook ups. It hit me pretty hard and I immediately started thinking about scoring but I wrestled the idea out of my head and just got enough from the ATM for my benzos. By the time I got back to his house I was a little releived to see the truck had gone. My friend met me at the door told me to come in. His roomate was still passed out on the couch so we went in to sit at the kitchen table. He pulled out a shot glass and dropped in a little blue football(1mg alprazolam) and filled the small glass with some cheap vodka. This is something this particular friend had turned me onto doing but I only ever bothered to do it when I was around him. I am not sure if it makes the drug hit you faster or its just the alcohol potentiating it but whatever it is; it is a great buzz.(not recommending this, as mixing benzos w/ any amount of alcohol can get dangerous) I took a small coffee straw from a cup on his table and poked the now crumbling pill then stirred the concoction until it turned a translucent blue color. I took the shot and filled it halfway back up with vodka and swirled it around a little to gather any remaining blue stuff from the cup and drank that as well. I was feeling pretty good at this point and that is when my friend said that he heard some bad news today.

I should first say that this particular friend had no idea that I had been trying to kick opiates. He was not even as much a friend as just my benzo hook up that I partied with sometimes. So anyways as for the bad news. Our mutual acquaintance who had been at his house in that familiar truck earlier. He is an older gentleman and I do not know the story as to why he is scripted Opana 40's but I know that he does not take them. Not at all. He either manages his pain in other ways or conned his way into the script I dont know. I do know that he sells his entire script every month except the few he takes before his monthly appointment. He is very careful in this way keeping those few back in case of randomly getting tested. He is also very wary of being pill counted. He actually always has a full script in his medicine cabinet or wherever he keeps them. At some point he didnt move any or take any for a whole month so that now when he gets a new script he puts that one back and sells last months supply. This way if he ever gets called in for a random visit he can count out exactly the amount he should have at that point in the month to take into the clinic. Anyways all that is relevant because this month he was forced to get the newly formulated Opana. They are round and rubbery and to my knowledge very difficult to abuse. Apparently he had tried several different pharmacys around the area and they had all switched to this new formula. It was akin to hearing that a great friend was maybe getting married and moving away to some other country and you would never really be able to hang out anymore. I was just a little sad that my favorite method of getting high was going to be unattainable even if I had stopped using. That made what any fight my conscious would put up for what came next all the more futile.

The silver lining of course to the aforementioned bad news was that our mutual aquaintance still had last months supply of the little yellow stop signs. One of which he produced from his stash box sitting on the table in front of us. He explained, as he raked the pill back and forth over a segment of hose clamp to shave the pill down, that he had been able to purchase ten of the "last of the good ones" from our friend. At an inflated price of course. He finished shaving it down chopped it over a few times with a card and split it into two lines. At this point I did not even consider not blowing this line. In fact I was already trying to figure out in my head how I was going to get ahold of more of these now endangered goodies. So after doing the line and chatting for a short while I am feeling pretty good. Even 15 days seems to have pretty efficiently lowered my tolerance if I was feeling something off of 20mg. I was not quite where I wanted to be though. I talk my friend into selling me another one. Paying him with the money I had gotten from the ATM for the benzos which were now the furthest thing from my mind. I fly through the routine I miss so dearly and quickly have the entire pill prepared for insuflation. After that I was feeling very good. My friends roomate finally got up and left for work and we sat in his living room and played the new UFC game on Xbox and listened to Pink Floyd. I am all in at this point and I figure I might as well make a day of it since it is the last I will see of them. My friend however does not really want to come off anymore at first as he got them for himself. Not to mention he is a little peeved I no longer am interested in the benzos he had held for me.

Trying to bargain with an addict to sell you his own stash is utterly hopeless. I was however not going to be denied. I was able to get ahold of our friend and he agreed to stop back by later this evening. I did not want to wait however so after agreeing to also purchase the benzos from him we worked it out where I would take half of what he had now even paying a little extra and our friend would swing by later and he could pick up some more from him then. Everyone is happy. I run back to the ATM to withdraw the cash and can not even get the amount that I need to cover what I owe so I end up stopping at two gas stations and buy a pack of cigs at each just to get cash back. Now properly funded I swing back by my guys house and grab the four yellow forties and twenty blue footballs. We chat for a few minutes but then part ways and I head back to my apartment.

At this point even though I was feeling pretty good I am also realizing I threw away a few weeks of sobriety. While I am not naive enough to think that is any where near in the clear it was still a big accomplishment for me and I threw it away without much of a thought. I made some post on TDS and posted some stuff I had written in a blog. I just wanted to let someone know I had faltered I guess. And not someone who I really knew. Someone who could not stop me from at least finishing what I had aquired. I blew another forty right after that though. My tolerance had really been affected by my short sobriety apparently because this one made me start to get a little nauseous. I warmed up some pizza I had in my fridge and chewed some tums with a glass of ginger ale to try and settle my stomach. I melted into my couch after that. I had a good nod going and felt great.

So that brings me to here. I just sat around the house all day. I did clean the hell out of my place today and it needed it pretty badly. But yeah mostly I just sat around watched a few movies and had that lazy Sunday only plus some Oxymorphone. I have had this half a forty chopped up waiting for me while I wrote this blog. I was very worried about relapsing earlier when I first got home but I think it has made me realize that I need to get some help. I have heard lots of good things about suboxone and how it fills that void of that feeling of contentment. I think maybe I will look into that soon. But right now I am going to blow this line and "I'm going to a pretty place now, where the flowers grow. I'll be back in an hour or so".
My random thoughts consist of just life in general. Why and how things are the way that they are. Like a normal human being would...

But, there is one thing i would like to know. More than anything.

I would like to know, why people think it's o.k to do things and other people think its the total wrong thing.
For example: My mom thinks its O.K to not lend me 5 dollars because i forgot my wallet at home. Home being a half an hour away. I was visiting my grandma because she just got back from treatment from cancer. Her second time around having the evil thing. . .

She even had the money on her. And you know what she said to me? She told me she couldn't grab me the 5 dollars because her boyfriend was watching and he might get mad that she was giving me 5 dollars! . . .

I am not one of those kinds of people that just uses people for money...and i always pay her back if i ever borrow money...also i had just turned 18 and have been living with my grandma since i was 13 because my mothers boyfriend doesn't like me. He doesn't have a reason. He. Just. Doesn't. I haven't asked for money for like a year. Just this ONE time i needed her to be there for me she wasn't. HER REASON???? SHE DIDN'T WANT HER BOYFRIEND TO BE MAD AT HER FOR HELPING HER DAUGHTER OUT. when he doesn't even have a job and my mother works TWO jobs!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I am soo mad at my mom for not being stronger for me.. She always has such low self esteem!!! But then again i can relate...But, i only can relate because thats all i really know?? Do you think that i am the way i am because of how her past relationships were bad?!??!?!


About, 8 years ago when i was ten she was with a man that cheated on her multiple times and she stayed with him...then they broke up...and got back togther.. When they got back together the third time he told my mom we were moving to vegas...even though i was only 10..I stood up to him when my own mom wouldn't. I told them both i wasn't going ANYWHERE. And i ran to my friends house and told her everything. He was a horrible man....and so is the guy shes with now...i don't understand why she has such bad self esteem...she really is a beautiful lady.


I have so much anger towards her and her boyfriend. I feel like i don't have a mom anymore...
Is that what all people feel when they turn 18??? Or is it just me??
Idk... I just with things were differant. i know nobodys perfect.


But, that night when i almost ran out of gas...I had to go 100 mph just to make it to my work, which is 3 miles away from my house. I had TO BORROW MONEY FROM MY WORK just to make it home!!!!!!! And my manager even took the money out of the till to do it! Which he couldv'e got in WAY more trouble than my mom would have with her BOYFRIEND!!!!

Pree much too sum everything up is: Why do the ones that you want to care, DONT???
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