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I never thought I would get to this point, and yet it seems I have. I have chosen to write about it here. I have fully left my addiction behind.

I don't know why I prefer to write these things on BlueLight, where I know absolutely no one and there's a very small chance anyone I do know will find me. But perhaps this is for the best.

Sometime over the past year, as I have gone through treatment, three distinct things occurred to me that pushed me farther and farther away from the life of a heroin addict (or rather, a double life as a "productive" member of society and a heroin addict) and into the great void of reality. Real life.

The first great thing that occurred was my overdose on November 5, 2010. I will never forget it. After viewing heroin as my warm, fuzzy, toxic blanket that could do no wrong, it never occurred to me that being just a little careless could actually kill me. The overdose, I should note, was an accident. I had only been in treatment for two months, I was not taking my meds (Suboxone and an anti-depressant called Effexor), and I had just attended a memorial service for my grandmother, who died one year before. That was a very bad time in particular, and a hard one to relive even by memory. Any moment I wasn't crying at the wake or funeral I could barely keep my eyes open. I could barely function. There was so much pain and guilt that no amount of heroin could wipe it out. Throughout the service I kept limping on one leg due to a botched injection the previous night. There was an ounce of dope at my disposal, and I went through it by the time I was limping back to New York.

Anyway, the first week of November was very bad. I had never forgiven myself for not being there for my grandmother in hospital, when she needed me. Excuses of working late and traveling plans that could not be changed and so forth kept me away. When my grandmother died, she still envisioned me as the young, beautiful, hardworking granddaughter she'd come to know and love. I did not want her to see me as I was in that moment - sickly, sallow, and shaking, or so high my eyes could have rolled out of my head. Who would want to leave their grandmother with that as her last memory? I was her favorite granddaughter, I was the girl out doing things to make the family proud.

there's no better thing than this. no idle-free time to muffle my laziness. it's for the good of the land. my land.
my land is purple with christmas shoved in its face. my land can build suspension bridges with delicate fingers on poised knees while brewing time's most unimaginable cup of coffee. it never cools but spreads through and litters the earth with electrolyte greenery full of brilliant blooms of velvet carpet. all the while oceans scream passionate love ballads to tiny pebbles just out of reach.
leaves forever in transition and sprinkled with sugar yield coffee droplets ready for perfect consumption. branches like the oldest sofas waiting for nap nappington to nestle sweetly among ludvig van winds and maidens hair skies.

can someone please help me out on what i posted yesterday .. i have this new fent patch (well, the new brand) the mallinkrodt (sp?) they are the weird really thick clear ones. i am in a lot of pain and it itsnt helping at all.. has anyone else found a way to extract the fent? or ANY advice on making them work better? please help asap thanks in advance!

Test pharma blog post

I have never blogged about anything before so if you do read this please bare with me
Recently my husband and myself ran across this product in the store with all of the fake weed it is called tranquility bath salt so naturally we were intrigued and purchased some. Let me tell you it is unreal to me that this stuff is legal. It is. A wonderful buzz. We just need to be careful because we don't know where this stuff is mfg. Would love to talk to anyone who would be willing to tall with me. Maybe make some new gfriends in the process! So please give your input on this

Only thing worse than not getting your shit at all is getting shit that ain't the shit you paid for. Got half a gram, second time buyer from him (first shit was goooood), was darker than the shit he gave me the first time, opened up the little bag and took a sniff-- Shit was straight up kratom, made into little rocks somehow. I think, okay, maybe I'll just snort a little to test it. Hit the back of my sinus and I had no doubt, I'd recognize that taste and texture anywhere. Bout gagged my guts out, lol... Fuck... My back is fucking KILLING ME!!!!! Just tossed the other 3 rocks down my throat, don't feel a goddamn thing... So fucking pissed...

Ya try something new, ya know? Think I'll just stick with fucking pills, least I know what I'm getting. Another lesson learned I guess, I ain't gettin into that game, fuck Atlanta...

Can't dope dealers just be honest? Haha.
...

test

has anybody tried the sharks pills going around cork??:D

You already know that your boy comes through with 1300+ ranking with the 66% win ratio; it's only a matter of time before hoes on Yahoo Pool started flirting with your man because he stunts hard with the pool stick.

I have them coming left and right inviting me to games. They aren't even looking for any competition because they already see how I do. They just want to stand there while your boy shines.

I tried to tell a hater who was playing me to just give it up and stop trying to copy my style, but his stomach was on growl because of the stunts I was catching after his break. I don't play - every single shot has English on the ball. Slow your roll, players - you are not going to predict where the cue ball is going after it bounces off that wall. Only I know that.

But back to the hoes. Sometimes your boy shines so bright that no amount of hate can cast a shadow over hoes's faces. I have them looking Chinese. They need to bring some sun block when they sign into Yahoo Pool because my stunts are like the midnight sun.

I'm Bill Clinton with mines. I don't know what you are doing over there, but this is how its going on over here.

the first time i tried xanax, i got 10 bars for a friend. i took one the first night, just to see what it was like. the next night i took the other 9 all together. i was going to drink blueberry stoli but i fell asleep before i could really drink any. i was not big on drinking at the time. i wanted to die. i think i did, anyway. i ended up blacking out for a day and a half. thankfully, i don't drive. during that time, i have foggy memories of walking to meet the friend (the one i got the xanax for) for coffee, even though i took them all. i remember him saying nervously, maybe we should go some other time. and me saying, no, we're going now! and i remember feeling kinda weird. on the way back we ran into my best friend riding his motorcycle. he later told me i was wearing a really nice dress and the expression on my face was that of detached misery. i find this utterly fascinating. he sat with me and made me smoke shit and eat and kept me up for a while to make sure i was ok. then he left and after he did i couldn't find my phone and so i decided that he must have taken it. so i went to his house and knocked on his window and asked for my phone, he said he doesn't have it... it was in my couch. during this time i also sent some pretty retarded and poorly spelled text messages and emails. i find it rather interesting though that other than somewhat (mildly) impaired short term memory, i really suffered no long term effects, at least that i am aware of at this point. now i got into drinking more, so maybe i'll try it again sometime. i am still pretty fucking unhappy. i spend a lot of time thinking about whether so and so likes me, or rather the fact that he will never feel about me the way i feel about him, and at the same time, i have pretty much given up on myself. i've had the love of my life, and all that, after all. and i threw that away. on purpose, i ruined my own finances for good, on purpose. yeah, i still have some things going for me. i still model, too, but i am not getting any younger, i keep thinking about that all the goddamn time. i don't want to be old, because i'm going to be old and alone, and broke. whether or not i still have addictions. live fast, die young, leave a pretty corpse. goddamnit.

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So I have this illustration blog, partly to help with my studies but also to help gather my thoughts and arrange them out in a way that makes logical sense. I thought I'd carry it over to bluelight, since some of you may take an interest in the sort of stuff I do and the different influences that inspire and motivate me. I've long since learnt that bluelight isn't just good for drugs. This forum has educated me in all manner of ways, and has broadened my fundamental understanding of the world, and of the people living within it. As a way of giving something back to bluelight, here is my small contribution:




(6/10/11) For now I’ll have to make do with typing to myself like a madman and leaving an illustration I made of one of my favourite men. As a side note, today I spent two and a half hours in a lift drawing the buttons as people crammed in and out, sharing snippets of conversation about LSD and phonetics. I love arty students. Perhaps one day I’ll stand in a lift and take notes of every conversation I hear, and publish them on a blog for budding eavesdroppers to devour.





(10/10/11) Here is an animation I created last year during my art foundation. Intended to be an imitation of a psychedelic trip, each frame was created on Photoshop and then animated on Final Cut. The entire project was very time consuming, and the quality of drawing reflects the size of the workload involved. I passed the animation module of the course with it though, thank god.

The Trip Project


Transforming a block of resin into a turtle. Actually didn’t take that long, only an hour or so of drawing. 18 frames total.

Resin Into Turtle


Amazing animation of an interview with John Lennon. The way in which the graphics morph and twist perfectly capture the meandering imagination of Lennon’s message, creating something that is simultaneously nonsensical and understandable. Insane, yet rational, whilst all the time beautifully flowing. Just brilliant on every level.

I Met The Walrus



(11/10/11) Observational drawing of a skeleton at the British Museum. Fine pen on cartridge paper.





(12/10/11) "Blood, Sweat and Tears"





(17/10/11) "The Hospital"





If any of you are interested in following my tumblr, the link is appetiteforillustration.tumblr.com

Iawoke with a phone call. A person who I had suspected of stealing a vast number of my prized possessions all in the hope of capturing a large bottle of vodka. A handle I wield on the weekends. He was offended.

If you give a mouse a cookie, pray he won't come back to steal the entire cookie jar.

The following voice mail was one of rage. "You better fucking apologize for framing me. I wouldn't steal your shit. If you want your bag back, you can come fucking get it."

As a benefactor to almost every party I go to, I stand ashamed to be the victim of such an offensive message.

Regardless, I would stumble upon my bag only hours later after he dropped it off. Avoiding direct contact with me was probably a wise choice. The bag did not have my vodka. And my advil was gone. Shame.

I fell asleep.

I awoke shaking. My body was quaking in fear. Anxiety; an irrational fear of improbable scenarios. If I was going to attend a party that night I would need alcohol.

My brain in its hypersensitve state was firing off mixed signals of expecting the worst, most traumatizing events to take place; the shame and guilt I had collected over the following days came rushing back into my veins, consuming my entire body and mind. My coordination was impaired, the very act of walking was as if I were being judged by thousands of critics,

Why am I afraid? I need alcohol now.

A shadowy, dimness gave the illusion of relaxation to the party. The fizzy carbonation tickled my throat as the 40 oz Mickeys slipped down the hatch. Within minutes I felt my body loosen, my thoughts clear and logical thinking returned.

"I am the most socially intelligent person I know. Out of all of my friends." An intoxicated close friend of mine claimed. This sparked a heavy debate over the true essence of communication.

"I believe there are many factors that go into social intelligence, as the mere act of being attractive can distract from the true mental and social capability of the person." I replied.

"I can look at someone and knowtheirproblem. No one else hasthis ability except for me." he continued to drunkenly speak, "You have anxiety. Iknow this, and I truly believe my friends and I have helped you come out of it."

Was it the truth...? No. I don't have anxiety in the traditional sense. My anxiety is sparked by use of substances. I have endured both forms of anxiety, both derived through traumatic experiences and anxiety developed from a chemical imbalance through the use of drugs. I have overcome both illnesses.

The girls came. Ages 18-20, they were the type of party girls who hold a respective distance from sexual promiscuity. I am forced to be flirtatious, regardless of my lack of sexual desires toward them.

Feed Me plays in the other room. I stop my conversation and quickly make way for the dance floor. My feet slip and slide across the tile as I practice a well maintained shuffling routine; although shallow to say, as unattractive people try to dance with me, I leave for the porch, blood still pumping, eyes wide open from the exhilarating effects of letting loose.

The party host, an attractive college aged girl and I held a long conversation about drug use. She was studying to become a substance abuse rehabilitation specialist. Needless to say, my views on harm reduction sparked her interest. Others attempted to join the conversation. We spoke at a level above most people. Their illogical bias was quickly washed out. Attempts by other guys to hook up with her was pointless. Fate had chosen me to make this connection. We shared a great conversation. In all honesty I prize these mind to mind connections over sex itself.

Blackness

My lips came in contact with an unknown face later that night as I sat in the room of a good friend. Through a drunken exploit and increased productivity due to intoxication, we came into the company of two fairly attractive girls.

I suddenly awoke on the sofa of my brother's room. For a brief moment my world continued to spin. It came to a stop. I was sober again.

Time to ride my bike. Time to plan the next adventure.

-Renz Envy

Yes... she has obtained her visa and is now floating around back where she belongs: the U.S.A. god, she would have been pissed had she seen me during her absence. Totally unemployed and defeated. Shooting smack, trashing our old apartment, spending every last dime on a never-ending buzz.

this is a responsible, strong girl we're talking about, too. I can tell she's not going to put up with the shenanigans anymore. and why should she? She's lost weight and as usual, has this authoritative attitude. My favorite thing she says is, "Who's driving the plane?"

I'm so concerned that I'm throwing her away, though. She really bites her tongue, but once in a while she gets pissed that I'm not scoring really high in life right now with all of the advantage I've been handed. She's so much more disciplined. she's so strong. She's exhibited a lot of patience with me, but I think it's almost over.

Because she's 31 now, I've decided that it might be better to just let her go. The biological clock is ticking and far be it from me to cheat someone out of their idea of what life should be by denying her children. She really just wants me to take charge, frequently saying that I should be more like North Korean president Kim Jong Il or Victor Bout. For some reason, this always gives me a raging erection and I black out and make her wear my mother's wedding dress before ravaging her.

I realized I use foreign languages a fair bit to destress... sometimes I will tell myself that I can only think about something I am worried about in french. I am not fluent altho I know it fairly well. But it forces my thoughts to slow down. i usually have to pause and think what word i want to use or think about what verb tense i should use.

I also imagine balloons floating into the air if I need to calm down. But I try to describe them to myself in danish. I started learning the language a few years ago and then got bored. But I remember color, size and number words. i try to focus only on the danish words and imagining the balloons without using english words.

Fnally, when I lived with vgoraz, he would talk to me in farsi if I was stressed and needed to relax. i told another friend this and she told her husband a night night story in farsi to help him sleep. she said it worked

I don't know if I ever talked about it on here, but yeah. I have a concussion. And the Post Traumatic Concussive Syndrome (or whatever it's called) symptoms have been in full force lately. It got so bad today that I had to put my head between my legs and literally fight to stay conscious, I was so fuckin dizzy. Had my mom take me to the ER, apparently I was slurring my words. I KNOW I couldn't type coherently worth shit, because I saw my status updates later and they looked like this:

Thzis iz miay sttus update

Literally. There would be one word or two spelled correctly, and the rest were just a hot mess. It's not that I can't understand what words I'm trying to say, it's that my vision gets so blurred ON TOP of having double vision that even when I go back and try to correct it, it comes back fucked up anyways. According to the doctor, this is going to happen a few times in the next week... hah. Something to look forward to: typing like a 2 year old.

I'm also on bed rest for the next week. There are like a gajillion things I'm not allowed to do until A) the week is over, or B) I go a full 24 hours without having ANY symptoms. I can't stand for more than 10 minutes at a time. I have to switch positions (whether I'm lying down sleeping, trying to stand up, sitting down, etc.) verrryyy slowly. I can't drink anything but healthy liquids. I can't drive. I can't do tasks that require a simple amount of concentration (even writing this blog is probably a no-no, but I'm bored so fuck it). I can't look at things that are very bright or that flash (I guess this is because you're more prone to seizures). I can't go out with friends. I can't talk for long periods of time... which sucks, because ever since I got this concussion, I have just been rambling on and on. Like really that's all I want to do - is talk, and ramble, and say every single random thought that comes to my head. I'm not allowed to work. I'm not allowed to be around any stressors. I'm not allowed to do ANYTHING really, except sit my happy ass down, take my synthetic opiates, and think.

And thinking is bad. I've had two people fuck me over... HARD... in the past day. People I was close to, and they were just straight up cruel to me, over things I honestly had no control over. So on top of having a concussion, I also lost two "friends" in the past 24 hours... well, one was a guy I liked... and I don't have anything else to do but sit here and go over it and over it in my head. And these were people I really cared about. It just hurts. I'd rather be out with my friends, not thinking about it, getting over it, you know? I don't feel like sitting here and thinking about it for an entire week is conducive to that.

I swear up until Friday morning when I got this concussion, my life was so great. Everything was perfect. Now everything is going to shit. I feel like I can't trust anyone if even my closest friends are going to betray me like that. I feel like no guy is ever going to like me for anything other than my looks. That dude's exact words were: "I was never into you, I never wanted to date you. I just said all that shit because I wanted to bang you." It's just depressing. I've given up hope on trusting anyone except my family. It makes me cry. I feel like that's all I've been doing lately - crying. And I am NOT a crier.

But this is the story of my life. I get handed something great, something amazing... or a few amazing things... only to have it ripped away from me in the worst way possible in a short amount of time. It's easier to deal with when I can go out and enjoy myself with friends. But it's fucking HARD when I literally have NO CHOICE but to sit here and just think... and think... and think. God, it just sucks. I can't even describe it.

I'm so depressed right now. Not clinically depressed, but yes, I am experiencing a temporary bout of depression. It's a feeling I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy, honestly. Wish I could go out and do something to get my mind off of it, but I can't...

Looks like it's just me, the internet, and dumbed-down books like See Spot Run for the next week. Fucking fuck my entire life.

i've made a couple of custom pages about how to do various things within blogs. i want to create another one explaining about moderating comments and one about blog subscriptions. is there anything else?

here is what i made so far, what do you guys think? i tried to make them as idiot proof as possible.

deleting an entry
how to change blog permissions
an overview of blog settings

<please read our guidelines and utilize the search engine. Thanks. -OverDone>

<we won't help you with that here - OverDone>

I found out that guy has a girlfriend tonight, they never broke up. I got on his case about it, and told him how much it hurt me? His response? To text me when I got home and rub it in my face. "We just had the best sex." "I hope you cant find love like me and her have one day." Tons of fucked up shit. HE hurt ME. Why did I deserve that?

I was a wreck, like that killed me. So I texted that other guy, J, the one I met in the military... my best friend, the one person who could put things into persepective and put me in check. He ignored me, of course.

So I texted P, the guy I was talking to before the douchebag in the first paragraph. Yeah, I broke ties with him, and at first he was like... yeah come over! But then he started ignoring me.

I have no one. People treat me like shit, no one cares that I'm dying inside right now. I just want to disappear. I have the most horrible, depressed feeling right now. It's honestly the worst emotional pain I've ever felt, just too many fucked up things in a row. I have no doubt that if there was a gun near me I'd use it.

I don't want sympathy. Or "things will get better"s. Empty words. I just wanted to vent. I don't care anymore, the fuck is the point of life...? To go through it, get hurt over and over, until you become an empty shell of a human. I want to die. I really do.

Anybody on here from north carolina or around it? Loved to get into the Southeast forums and blogs..

Thanks!

I'm fucking tired of it. I don't deserve it. One thing you should know about me, is that if a guy is treating me like a perfect gentleman, has that vibe I like, we have a good connection, and he's really sweet and generous towards me, I fall fast.

It's only been two weeks, but I was already starting to have feelings for him. And he acted like he felt the same way.

Found out today he has a girlfriend, then spent the next half hour talking about how happy he was that she came over last night (right after I left) until I finally couldn't take it anymore and interuppted him and said, "So are you going to smoke me out or what? Because if not, I'm leaving."

He said no because I have a concussion. BULLSHIT. We've smoked with three times since I have a concussion.

Other thing I realized is that the only reason he's been going out of his way to be nice to me and treat me that way is because he's using me for rides. I realized today that the only time we hang out is when he needs to go pick up (he doesn't have a car). Or wants a Xanax. Or needs a ride to work, or to a meeting. I don't care how long we spend afterwards cuddling and talking and connecting as well as we do; it's all a fucking act.

I left his house just now obviously bothered by something, he wanted me to stay and take a nap and fucking sleep on the floor. Um, no. First of all, I ALWAYS stay in his bed. Second of all, I just wasted a bunch of gas driving you at least 45 miles, and you can't even smoke me out? Some fucking friend, eh?

He knows I'm uspet about something, because he sent me at least 10 texts after I left. But he thinks I'm mad about the fact that he would smoke me out.

No, more about the fact that you've been using me for things. And that you have a girlfriend, all the while you were acting like you actually were starting to get interested... in fact, you started acting interested before I did, and that just makes it worse. And, yes, that you wouldn't smoke me out after all the things I've done for you.

My evil side (and some of my friends) are telling me to just ignore him. The logical part of me that says to do the right thing, is to tell him the truth about why I'm upset, then just leave it at that. Put him in check a bit, make him feel guilty (if that's even an emotion he posses), and then chuck up the deuces forever.

I'm just tired of being hurt... this is the third time in a motherfucking ROW.

I've been wathing the interest how each state has an agenda unique to their PMP since I was a little boy in New York. Back in the 1970's and 1980's New York had their Official New Yorsk Prescriptions provided as triplicates. Any Schedule II CS required a Doctor write you an RX on these pads. They snapped out two copies for you and kept one for their records. You took the original and a carbon copy to a Pharmacy where the Pharmacist kept the original and send the carbon copy to the NYS Department of Health. In 1989 NY placed all bezos in Schedule II so now you needed a triplicate for any benzo. I remember how this backfired. Doctors were avoiding being monitored by writting Rx for really bad stuff like barbituates, meprobamate, and cloral hydrate. SO NYS went to a single copy electronically transferred NYS Official RX for all schedules. It reduced that intimidation that those original triplicates caused and was a good public health move. NY is the Grandfather of RX monitoring beginning in 1972, but since 2005 almost every other state has implimented a PMP and with very serious consequences for anybody and their children who might be getting some Ritalin, Lortab, Adderall, Valium, stc.
While most northern states protect patient privacy and only allow Practitioners and Pharmacists to access the database other states have gievn any member of Law Enforcement unresticted access without any requirement but to verbally affirm an investigation.
If you read the documentation provided by Rx Sentry who provides the PMP infrastructure you will see that the claim by the DEA, Whitehouse and other persons of interest that it merely provides a way to check for Doctor shoppers you will be shocked at the softwares ability to develop a pattern of behavior from the time you leave you house until you take the Rx to te pharmacy. One function determines mileage and maps of your trip to the Doctors, a map and the mileage to the Pharmacy. It etermines how many different pharmacies you fill your RX and how many Doctors you are seeing. It determines every controlled substance you fill, tallies up the quantity, talllies up the number of days of medication and it compares your prescription amounts against other people in your county. It tracks dates and times the RX are filled and if you pay cash. It provides a screen with the Doctors who write the most number of prescriptions and the type of medication. Then it compares them to other Doctors in the county. It also determines the Pharmacies that fill the most prescriptions and each type of medication they fill. It provides the ability to generate a list of people and their medications who live close to Churches and schools. Finally it is set up so multiple states can connect their databases and watch for people who might fill their medications in two states.
I am sorry to see that with each state getting about $20,000,000 from the DEA this setup has costs over a billion dollars.
this 1 billion dollar experiement by the governemnt. Since prescription diversion is more of a crisis created by the government this billion dolllar invasion of privacy and law enforcement toy is going to tell us that 99% of the people listed are good law abiding citizens, 97% of Doctors are doing their job and %99.9999 of Pharmacists are a great addition to the police state of medicine, and the taxpayers don't even have to pay them.
I don't know what to make this post about except which states use their PMP for public health and nobody is going to get your records without a search warrent. New York is a great state since its PMP is there to help Doctors and Pharmacists verify a new patient isn't getting the same pills from a Doctor up the street. It's also run by the Department of Health. If you are tagged all the state will do is admit you to a recovery center.
As for you folks down south it's the police that use the PMP and its the Police that decide if you and your Doctor are practicing bad medicine. I was already spooked the day I walked into my Pharmacy and behind the counter a Police Officer was checking the monitor. Apparently not only can they get whatever they want from the state PMP they can also deamnd a Pharmacist allow them access to the pharmacy area and if told to do so, a list of any customers prescription history going back 3 years.
Asfor Pharmacist and Officer they were on a first name basis, they attnd the same Church and were talking about theupocming back sale. As my privacy was being trashed the two of tem agreed if the weather is nice next Sunday aftr Church they should go fishing.
As for me, I am seeing a way to remain under the radar. Thee are states that will not allow the use of a PMP, there are legitimate online Pharmacies located in states other than my own and there is the number one way. When family or friends no longer need their medciation ask them if you can have what's left. This whose system is a crock of shit and when parents get a visit from the police because th state PMP lists their 11 year old child as a person who just got a new Ritalin presciption and that the police are visiting all parents and wanting to question any children who take riitalin just maybe this system will be seen what is is truly for, marking innocent people as "persons of interest".

View attachment 10230 Let me know what you think of my Ex I have alot more to show if you want to see it. lol I want to Humilliate the hell out of him if you have any good Ideals, I'd love to hear them.

my ex's bare ass