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First note on blog.

Received?

I wake up in the backseat of the Jeep somewhere along highway 75 in the darkness, barreling down the asphalted two laned road at 70, 80 miles per hour and looking out of the window of the door which I had been leaning my head against, which is open a crack, wind rushing in making a steady unbroken wooshing noise and I close it instinctively, notice nobody else around at all, no headlights, no nothing and then sit up straight, unbelted, the green army blanket wrapped around me in a way that I know somebody else had placed it on me while I slept. The radio is off but the red and blue glow of letters and numbers coming from the dashboard illuminate her face enough for me to see and she's smiling, her lips moving slightly not making any noise, not saying anything, singing to herself. Why didn't you wake me up, I ask her, already knowing what she's going to say. Because you were tired. I'm okay up here, i'm a better driver than you think I am. And she knows what i'm going to say. That isn't the point, alluding to the slight issue of her lack of a drivers license, something she has never really given a shit about but has plagued me with anxiety whenever she is behind the wheel, especially in a state I know nothing about, miles away from home on the other end of the country. I reach underneath the passengers seat and pat around for my father's flask, bring it up underneath the blanket and unscrew the top, trying not to make any noise, put it to my lips and drink whatever is left of the cheap bourbon I put in somewhere in North Carolina in the bathroom of the dimly lit truck stop with holes in the wall.

We can stay at Dale Hollow for the night, if you want. I have an aunt who has a house boat there, she tells me but I don't believe her. It's just a few more exits down. I tell her to pull over, I have to take a piss but she's ready with the empty gatorade bottle telling me, here, use this. It's too late to lie and tell her I have to shit too, she'll know, so I just grab the bottle and tell her thanks, trying to think of any other excuse I can to get her to pull the car over but I don't have anything and so I sit back, wish I wasn't out of bourbon in the backseat of my Jeep in the middle of the night in the woods of Tennessee going somewhere, way too fast, where I definitely don't want to be.

Sit down everyone. It turns out, apparently, that Mephedrone and Methylene are not plant feeder!!. I did tell you to sit down.
Apparently they are similar to cocaine and MDMA. These two drugs being very similar. In a blind test you can't tell the difference.
I wonder if one day people who make up the rules will actually know something about drugs?
Discuss

Well I went to the "viewing" today. I finally saw my dad. He looked weird, the embalming made his face look so fat and poofy and they had plastic under his clothes, so anytime anyone touched him you could hear it.
My mom made sure he was wearing his favorite clothes, though as taboo as it might sound. He'll be buried in his favorite clothes (a cotton t-shirt & Jeans). He had bruises all over his face and hands from the EMTs that I am sure would have been worse without the make-up caking.
I checked out his bald spot out of curiosity to see what the "true" colouring was, it's the whitest I'd seen any part of him.
I put one of my son's toys in, and my brother put some momentos in.

Freaky thing happened though. We were talking in the front pew on the right about silly, fun, and just memories of my dad and other family members when out of nowhere a candle that was by his head went flying and landed by the front pew on the left...... the casket was 6+ feet away. It freaked us out completely.

Though I am sure my dad is pissing himself laughing where ever he ended up. He had that kind of wry humour.

He gets buried tomorrow, there is going to be a ton of people there tomorrow -- my anxiety is going to be out there.

Weird thing is, most people when at a furneral their bodies (the dead i mean) have a pout/frown... my dad had a wry grin, like he knew something we didn't and his last little thing to give us was that wry grin...

I got a headache....

Well, yeah... on friday, after I got done from work I went to the city and picked up 5 bags of coke (roughly 2.5 grams) and a dime of weed. I'm pretty sure I had a six pack as well.

Anyway, I actually FORCED myself to get high. True, I already had a fresh box of spikes in my closet but the effort to get the drugs took a lot of sheer force. Everything inside me screamed not to do it. I KNEW I was throwing a lot of HARD work away but I said fuck it and took the drive down and copped.

So, on Saturday I went to the city again and picked up another 5 bags and on Sunday I picked up 7 bags.

Now its Monday. I called off work today to 'recover' but I mostly lay in bed unable to sleep but unwilling to even venture into the living room (too much effort). Thoughts of suicide came back, familiar feelings that I had made significant strides in placing behind me all came back. In force.

I'm not sittin' here crying. I'm kinda just afraid. I picked up a bottle of vodka a few minutes ago and it pisses me off. Am I back into this thing again? Alcohol makes it easier to make impulsive decisions like driving to the city for 'just one more'. I hope I can follow through and be clean tomorrow. I can't get back into the grips of this again. It was only supposed to be one night.

When did feeling good stop feeling good?

Little girl on daddy's knee
playing horsie with a smile so bright
hugs and kisses before she says goodnight
"goodnight baby, you sleep well."

Little girl not so little anymore
not quite a woman but not still a girl
"don't worry daddy i'll be just fine,
dont look at him that way daddy, it's not that bad".

little girl is all grown up, she's a mommy herself
little boy sitting on grandpa's knee
little boy with smile so bright
"more papa, i like horsie!".

old man laying down still
out of breathe and tired as can be
old man bones and old man aches
"it's okay daddy have a rest, its okay daddy we'll talk again in a few days".

old man becomes young again
his old bones and old man aches are gone
he's happy and smiling again
Rockin' to Jimi Hendrix again.

shed no tear that's not what he wants
be not sad that's not how he rolled
have a beer, have a toke, have a smile, stay awhile
celebrate and have memory, cause that's just how it has to be.

Grown woman walks up to her dad,
hugs and kisses before bed,
"Goodnight daddy, I hope you sleep well. Good night daddy, Rest in Peace."

So here I am 21 years old, no insurance of any kind, I have a fractured eye socket (cant really tell thought unless you felt my face) and an elbow that needs to be operated on. & No money other than the cash that goes to managing my chronic pain.

I no longer have a job (had to quit after wrecking my car in a hospital induced lack of sleep/benzo/barbiturate/opioid haze in another state), all my money (all I can scrape up selling benzos) goes to internet pharmacies to buy codeine & dihydrocodeine. Im starting to lose hope.

Ever since I was little my mind has been filled with constant traumatic events; too many to mention. And on top of the constant trauma in the back of my mind about where Im @, how I got here, and my most recent series of traumatic events (again too much to mention) nothing seems to be getting better no matter how hard I try to break through this cycle of nothingness.

I've fucked up college, and am in over 5000 dollars in debt due to having no medical insurance without my knowledge (I was dropped off my dads plan without notice after the wreck).

The only time I feel truely content with the life I lead is when I get cash in my hand (illegally) & am in an opioid induced haze. All my friends and family see nothing in me & I don't have the money to make something with my life without risking my freedom. I have no family in America on my moms side and my dads side has written me off for continuous failed drug tests and refuses to speak to me. All I've ever wanted was to feel a part of something; to have a family to co me crawling back to when all hope is lost; but no. I really try hard every day to see the light @ the end of the tunnel and be happy, somedays it works but most days it doesnt.

Me and my sis used to be close but now shes off exceeding me in college and is going to be a very successfull woman.

I really don't know what the fuck to do. I have a criminal record that was supposed to be expunged after completion of probation (charged as an adult @ 16 for marijuana cultivation & carrying a knife within legal length and drug paraphenalia). I was on ADHD meds (amphetamines to the max) & ritalin (methylphenidate) since I was 6 & from what I've read in medical literature, permanent damage can be caused by constantly being doped up as a developing child; especially when all you come home to is violent alcoholic outbursts.

I dont use this forum often but I cant keep talking to my mom about my problems, she has enough of her own with her ex husband who is a emotionless alcoholic. I just felt like venting. Thanks for reading.

Today is Tiesday, June 22nd, 2010 and it is now 1001AM here in Quezon City, Luzon, Philippines.

To recap, I was at Rizza's family compound, on Mindanao and Col. Lademora, a mentor of mine had just summoned me to come to his house via his son, the Mayor.

I asked the Mayor if he was heading over to his father's house and he said he was actually going in the opposite direction to Lianga, across the provincial line in Surigao del Sur, to buy some fish.

Our province is landlocked, though the next municipality to the east, Lianga, in the afore mentioned next province, is a coastal town. I have explained the Philippine's unique municipal structures in the past but since I love repeating myself ad naseum, I will tell it again.

In rural areas the most basic unit is the "Sitio," a clump of houses. If you are an American, picture yourself on a rural road, you see a group of 4 or 5 houses clustered on a farm, that is the equivalent.

Next is the "Purok." A Purok is a grouping of sitios, in general vicinity to one another though if this demarcation serves a purpose it escapes me and every Filipino I have ever asked about it.

Next, you have the "Barangay." The rule of thumb is that 2 puroks make 1 barangay but it rarely if ever happens like that. A barangay is equivalent to a "village." The rule of thumb is less than 100 families per barangay but this is also something rarely adhered to.

Then you have the "Town." No matter how big the municipality is, it is a "town" unless it generates a set amounf of income at which point it is chartered as a "City."

So, if you are travelling through the countryside here you can pass through 30 villages and still be in the same town. Between each village can be kilometers and kilometers of thick jungle and these 30 villages can take 100 kilometers all told but still be in the same town.

You can be in a town with 90,000 people, and it is still a town, or be in a municipality with 20,000 and be in a "city."

It takes some getting used to.

Each town has a Barangay named "Poblacion," and this denotes the "downtown shopping district" of a municipality. Mayor Lademora was going to Lianga's Poblacion because that is where one goes, in our area, if they want seafood and Bisayans eat seafood everyday if they can afford it. We generally have it for 2 meals a day, sometimes all 3.

IF you like fish you will love Mindanao or for that matter, most anywhere outside of Manila though you can find it there as well, just more difficult and a tad bit more expensive.

On Mindanao Bisaya won't eat freshwater fish if they can afford not too, though some make an exception for "Bangus." Bangus is about a kilo on average, it is butterflied, seasoned very heavily, and dried. They are sold on roadsides in huge piles. Luckily for me, Rizza's family will not go near it.

For me, not a huge seafood fan, I had to adjust my diet in 2007. Mom was so caring, Dad as well, always worried because I would not eat the fish they were serving so they would send a servant out to buy me a meat dish 2 times a day, and my requisite 1 liter bottle of soda. They all drink cold water but I had grown spoiled in recent years.

The soda here is decent because they come in glass bottles, something the West stopped years ago. Sprite, or a brand called "Royal Orange," but the price is almost what it would cost in the US, rendering it a rich man's beverage.

I ended up adapting and today, even though I have spent a good deal of tme back in the States since 2008, I truly enjoy Red Snapper which they call "Lapu Lapu"in Bisaya.

A funny joke with a bit of history: Those of you with even a faint grasp of history might remember that the man credited with circumventing the planet 1st was , in English, "Ferdinand Magellan." Some may also remember that when Magellan came to the Philippines he ran into a bit of bad luck.

On Mactan Island, an atoll just off of Cebu, where Cebu City is now, the Chief refused to convert and accept that Magellan, in his wooden ship was now claiming to own the land (in the name of some far away king).

Magellan decided to teach the man a lesson. The ship sat out a bit because of coral reefs but Magellan and his landing party waded into shore.They snuck up to the obstinate chief and set his village on fire.

The warriors of course were livid. Magellan had given an order to his artillerymen to fire their cannons at the beach if they saw things getting dangerously tense. Well, things were way past "tense." The problem however was that the ship sat out way too far to make any kind of threatining impression. Magellan took a poison arrow to the leg and his men promptly withdrew, throroughly routed.

Most historians claim that Megalln turned and faced the tribe of "thousands of warriors" to give his men time to wade out to the ship bust other historians find that just a bit too pat ad entirely counter-intuitive to boot. In any regard Magellan kicked the bucket.

The chief? His name was...LAPU LAPU.

Now the joke: "Who killed Lapu Lapu?"

The answer most anyone shouts out is "Magellan" though it was Magellan who was killed by Lapu Lapu, not the converse.

The punchline to the joke though:

Who killed Lapu Lapu? THE CHEF hahahahahahahah!

So...I took the Sportage (*Kia SUV) and drove to Col Lademora's home. We were both thankful that we escaped unscathed after the "Maguindanao Massacre," the event that I wrote about both here and in a CE and P Forum.

Basically, to recap...On 11/23/2009 a Vice Mayor in Maguindanao Province decided that he would defy a local warl-rd and run against him for Governor of the province.

After being warned many times to back down he sent his wife, 2 of his sisters, a group of attorneys and 32 journalists in a convoy of SUVs for a 30 km. trip to the provincial capital of Sharif Aguak. Their purpose in going there was to file the vice mayor's Certificate of Candidacy for the May 10th, 2010 Elections.

Upon entering the town of Ampatuan they were stopped at a police checkpoint, along with 2 unrelated SUVs who had cut into the convoy by passing the last vehicle.

The Governor's son, leading the family paramilitary with at least 100 guerillas all fully armed were waiting at a police checkpoint..

Raping the women, they then commanderred the vehicles and drove 2 km. into the bush, up to a hill overlooking the checkpoint. there a govt. owned backhoe 9consruction machine) had gug 3 deep pits. Using a belt-fed M16 they executed at least 56 people. A 57th was hogtied and shot in the head with a 12 gauge shotgun. 3 people remain missing until now so the probable death toll was 60.

it was the single worst case of violence against journalists in history, as well as the worst single ase of Election-related violence in the Philippines where sich violence is almost mundane, expected as part of the cost of "doing business."

I will continue to explain why we were "relieved," etc.

(Edited for spelling and to add the last paragraph)

Let me preface my first blog entry with a little about myself. I'm a 26 year old Bostonian (and damn proud of it : D). Starting in college I had mild depression and then about 3 years ago a tragic loss pushed me into the major depressive category. These past three years have been spent mixing and matching medicines, none of which has totally worked. I've pretty much had general anxiety disorder along with social anxiety my whole life. I have days where I can be productive, just like a "normal" person, and then there are days when even the most simple task takes great effort. My depression has landed me in the hospital 3 times not of my own volition, twice being suicide attempts. The funniest thing I've realized on the mental ward are the number of Harvard and MIT graduates are there. I'm a (laid off) protein biochemist myself, and generally consider myself an intelligent person, but I always seem to let my depression get to me. I find myself thinking way too much; I guess depression lends to too much time to think. I know I have the tools to become successful at what I do, but its like depression are these restraints that prohibit me from being the real me, not the morose, I don't care about life me. Even that hope of a normal life sometimes doesn't make me feel like everything's going to be all right. But for now, I just have to try to cope, or as a last resort go back to the hospital. I have another blog post that I would like to attribute to my hospitalizations, but for now auf weidersehen.

I'm very experienced in various types of drug use. Because of my many problems I have access to many subscriptions. I dont abuse drugs in the wrong way but I am very aware of drugs their effects and how they can be mixed safely or dangerously. I have alot of answers and some questions too ! we can all learn things, nobody knows everything. Anyway, I'm a new member here and hope to become a very active one! I love this site, it is so friendly and everyone on it is helpful! hope to be a member for years to come ! - B

Still Monday, still June 21st, 2010 and it is now 1257PM. Same locale of course.

Continuation...

To be brief. On the west coast you have non-native tribes re-settled and this was done in the most ignorant ways. America is entirely at fault for the wars here.

Briefly, in 1899 the US came in and steamrolled an independant nation (it having legally declared independance after Spain hauled ass). Its raison d'etre was that Spain ruled it, America whipped Spain's ass, and since Spain had just left without ceding independance, America believed it "owned" the country.

Within 5 years the US defeated Filipino nationalists but the Moros continued making war until 1913 (the last group). After 1913 the US sought to assimilate the Moros and if this would not work, to commit cultural genocide by Ethnically Cleansing them via attrition.

It opened up a governmental bureau tasked with attracting voluntary settler families to come to Mindanao. Interestingly, the only settled them in the Moro lands. Then they passed laws limiting the amount of land private citizens could buy, but gave Moros a maximum equal to half the land any single non-Moro could buy. If this wasn't atrocious enough, they sold off tribal lands belonging to the Moro tribes.

Then, in the early 1950s Ramon Magasaysay, as Secretary of Defense [sic], and under direction from his American handler Edward Landsdale (of CIA in Viet Nam fame) began shipping Huk guerillas south and to add insult to injury, didn't disperse them. He settled them in ready made villages so that could sit and stew while concentrating on that same radical ideology.

On the eastern half of the island, where I live, it was much different. Entirely Lumad (Hilltribe) except for 2 coastal towns with a tiny mixed population of Christians and Lumads. People like Rizza's late grandfather ventured deep into the interior by travelling up rivers and staking out homesteads. He came at the turn of the 19th/20th Centuries but theese men were incredibly rare. Today they are the warl-rds of Eastern Mindanao.

We have 0 Muslims in Agusan del Sur, as far as official residents and we are the only province to have that, but all other eastern provinces have a bare minimum.

Getting back to Laddie...Laddie was an officer in the PC (Philippines Constalbury), an anti-insurgency paramilitary created by the US in 1913 that originally only used American officers and native troops. By Laddie's day, under the late dictator Marcos, it was entirely native.

He was deployed in West Central Mindanao, Cotabato Province which in those days included what is now 5 provinces. In 1969, just as he came, Christians and Moros began slaughtering each other on the West side of the island, with Moros doing most of the killing.

In the village of Upi, a Teduray Lumad village, an Ilonggo villager had his family slaughtered by Moros. He led a band of Teduray, who had long been victimised by Moros and formed the "Ilaga." Ilaga is Bisaya for "rat."

Under the nom de guerre "Kumander Toothpick" he and his men engaged in some rough fighting. Within 2 years his group had spread all over West Central and part of the northern coast as well. It also became infamous with several atrocities, going tit for tat with nascent Moro paramilitaries.

Under the law the PC was supposed to protect all Filipinos but in reality it supported and then colluded with the Ilaga. Toothpick dropped out, apparently unable to stomach the murder of babies and carving foetuses out of pregnant women. He was succeeded by "Kumander Bucay," whose real name is Norberto Manero Junior, a man I have talked about here in the past.

By 1972 the Maoist insurgency was up and kicking as well, with the NPA (New Peoples Army) and so the PC began trying to stomp out 2 quickly spreading fires instead of 1.

Laddie used Manero to neutralise NPA influence in that region, as well as Moro paramilitaries. It was as an anti-communist though, in the mid-1980s that Manero gained fame.

In his hometown of Tuluan, North Cotabato Province the Catholic Church had come under the sway of Libertation Theology, leftist ideology that led many adherants into the communist movement.

One such priest, a young Italian was the 2nd in charge in Tuluan. Manero and friends staked out the hut of a farmer known for having links to progressive movements, having heard that the priest in charge of the parish was en route to "protect" the faremer.

When he didn't show, but the 2nd priest did, they decided to pressure him to try and scare him. The priest didn't move away but instead talked back to them and entered the farmer's hut.

Manero and the others then his his motorcycle, maybe just bored, maybe antagonising him. The priest came out and asked for his motorcycle angrily. It was then that they shot the prest did. It was what Manero did next that made him famous. Taking a knife he butterflied the priest's chest, ripped out his heart and took a large bite, as did others.

Around that time Laddie was sent to the Visayan Island of "Samar," to battle the NPA. It was here that Laddie first said hello to the world. Lining up women and elderly villages against a wall, after failing to gain NPA Intel, the villagers were machine gunned.

I will conclude this in my next entry.

Today is Monday, June 22nd, 2010 and it is now 1210PM here in Makati, Luzon, here in the Philippines.

Where I was before where I is [sic]: After the long and boring retelling saga of a stupid and brutish incident from 2008, I had just gone to sleep in my house in Rizza's family compound on Mindanao.

The next day, or rather, later that morning (since I went to bed around 1AM) I woke up about 7 AM. In the rural areas on the Philippines, as in rural areas the world over, people rise very early, before the sun is up.

Went out to the verandah, took a plate of white rice since everyone had eaten, slathered it in soy sauce and kalamansi juice (the latter is the ubiqitous Filipino condiment, a tiny citrus fruit with orange flesh, green skin and the taste of a lemon). Wolfed down my rice and some cold water and listened to the creek that runs along that side of our compund.

In the Philippines most homes in the rural areas have what they call, in English, "dirty kitchens," meaning its open to the elements. Our verandah sits between the big house and my house, and the far end uses 1 of our warehouses as a wall as well. The length along the creek has a cinderblock wall about 1 meter high and then chainlink to the roof.

There is no entrance from either of our houses, but the space between serves as an entryway and we have a zinc roof covering it. This is how almost all kitchens are, for people with money (just grand isn't it?). Most people though simply use holes with rocks, and wood, campfires you might say though in the olden days they would have the fire inside. They would build what Westerners call a "sandbox," fill it with ashes, place 3 large river stones in it and pots would rest atop the stones, with fires built UNDER the pot but ATOP the ashes. Sadly, they would breathe in all that soot day after day but when one considers that Betel Nut usage was almost 100% from the age of 3 or 4 onward it isn't much of a threat. People didn't live long, though today most Mindanowans live to 54, if war or disaster doesn't kill them first.

The chainlink offers a spectacular view. One of our rice paddies, about 200 hectares. If the photos ("Gallery") are still up you can see that view yourself. Its the photo of me in a beige teeshirt sucking on a kalamansi, very sour, mountains far in the distance, some strands of facalta trees and palms, idyllic.

Dad was already busy changing grinding stones on one of the machines, since each grinder goes through a set every 5 or 6 days and we have a lot of grinders in each mill. Mom was doing her books so I sat down next to her as I often do and we talked.

Of course my marriage was the subject, no avoiding that one, and since I promised Mom I wouldn't discuss Rizza online, at least in an overtly negative way, I will just say that I made fun of her boyfriend's goiter. Yep, she left me for some guy with a giant bubble growing out the side of his neck, how pathetic does that make me? Hahahahahahahahaha. Ahhhh, what a wonderful 2 years it has been.

So, as we were sitting there the mayor drove up on his motorcycle. In SE Asia they are really "mopeds," and they are the most common form of private transport. Sometimes out in the bush, and Agusan del Sur Province is as "bush" as the Philippines gets, you will see a "dirtbike." Dad used to use one but got too "big" (wink) for it and so he gave it to our chief driver Mario as a present.

The Mayor, whose sister is my "G-Dmother," and whose father a close associate of mine in the paramilitary, came to tell me his father wished to see me.

His father is Col. Carlos "Charlie" Lademora but those closest to him call him "Laddie." He became somewhat famous in Mindanao when Newsweek did a piece on him, "Charlie's Deadly Angels," I think in 1984, when I first started going to Mindanao.

Laddie is an Ilonggo, a tribe from the island of Iolio and part of the island of Negro who speak a Bisayan language called "Hilgaynon." Filipinos swear it sounds "sweet" and "melodic" but damned if I can tell. I am conversant in it but nowhere nearly as much that I would ever be able to discern such a trait.

The islands are Bisayan islands (Visayan Islands, Central Philippines). Cebu is one as well but it is at the eastern extreme and Iolio is at the west so you COULD say, Cebuanos as Eastern Bisaya and Ilonggos are Western Bisaya though both claim the same ancestry, by way of Borneo.

Mindanao has 3 kinds of people, or social divisions. You have the "Moros," or "Bangsamoro" (Moro Nation). They are the "Muslim-Filipinos" and encompass 13 ethno-lingustic groups. Mindanao proper has 4 Moro tribes native to it: Maguindanao, Maranao, Iranun and Kagan (Tagkaoala). With out getting into a long explanation, they only converted to Islam about 2 generations before the Spanish arrived in the Philippines en masse, except for the Kagan who only converted in the early 1900s.

Then you have the "Lumad." Lumad are 18 ethno-lingustic groups and are any tribe that is neither Moro nor "Christian." You could simply say "Animists," or as I do, "Hilltribes."

Then the "Christians." Almost all are Bisaya, Cebuanos like Rizza or Ilonggo like Laddie. Generally speaking, the eastern half of the island is all Cebuano and Lumad, where as the western half, especially the central and southern portions are Moro and a spinkling of Lumad.

There are also Christians there in the west, all settled in Government relocation schemes. They are mostly Ilonggos but also Ilokanos and Tagalogs from Luzon who were forcibly relocated in Amnesty Programmes for the country's original communist insurgents, the 1940s/1950s era Hukbulukahap, a.k.a. "Huk."

I will have to continue because of the character count...

Thanks you guys. My doc is totally unaware that I've ever done meth or had any issues with any drugs period. We've never talked about any of that, so the only drug she's aware of my using is the one she writes. That said, I do know she is fairly open minded about writing Rx for controlled substance, if there's a good enough reason. One of my ex dealers happened to have her as his doc too. He sold speed, probably smoked as much or more PLUS he out & out lied about having ADD, lol, but she bought his story. She had him on some high dose ritalin pills 3 times a day, (8 ball/day he smoked,) until his wife who always went with him to his appointments told the doc that he was "all over the board" on whatever pills she wrote for him LOL.

Since he acted like a hamster in a cartoon stuck on permanent fast forward, spinning 190mph, going nowhere fast....it was freaken obvious, even to a woman that seems as naive as his wife. I don't want the Rx for recreation, I actually want to give the black market stuff a rest & simply be able to focus......& not feel the need to sleep practically every second I'm not at work!

My 1st question is for vyvanse...how did you explain your situation to your doc to get him/her to write it for you?

Question: Is this stuff terribly expensive? I have health insurance, but drugs that not available in generic, won't be covered. What doses does it come in & how many times a day did you take worked best for theraputic purposes?

Going through a dealer costs me $65/wk.... I'm hoping the Rx stuff won't be any more expensive than what I pay now, but my main concern is to manage the ADD symptoms & not wanna sleep all the time. I can do 2 or 3 shots of meth a day, not feel tweaked out, just focused, alert, I sleep daily, I eat, I do everything I normally do off speed minus feel the obsession to sleep too much & to STOP eating too much! On the days I medicate, I sleep & eat like a normal person but I don't wanna have to need a connect...

My doc WAS willing to write me an Rx for speed during the 2 year period I was completely clean & sober----because I was completely FAT. Being 100 lbs overweight felt more unhealthy, as I had to fight high cholesterol, borderline diabetes, high blood pressure, my ankles & feet were puffy way beyond the point of merely being unattractive, my feet hurt, exercise was a chore....all of that is gone now, lol. I dropped 80 lbs & maintaining a weight of 160-165 at 5'7"...& I'm completely happy with my current weight/size 8. Ironically, the high B/P as a result of the morbid obesity was the only reason she didn't Rx me diet pills....which I wouldn't of accepted anyway at that time. I know to make sure NOT to do any speed 3 days prior to seeing doc, so not being on speed & not being fat, B/P hasn't been an issue in the past.

My tolerance being what it is, going by above info, won't feel "tweaked out" on any Rx, but I guess I'm tripping because of already being on the Rx pain pills for the headaches. So my last question is, has anyone been on some medium to low strength Rx pain meds.....when approaching doc for vyvanse or hell anything speedy?

I'm not interested in the complete abuse of any drug anymore. I have been there for a long time and I appreciate the harm it can do. I am trying to get off and remain off opiates....I was way out of control. For myself abuse is taking something in larger doses than necessary to exagerate it's effects.

I will not take more than what is prescribed to me. I take back what I asked about supplimenting with additional opiates. I would not consider that. I don't even know why I wrote that....I am interested in the chemistry of the drugs I take. I read somewhere that buprinorphine leaves certain opiate receptors open. That made me curious as to what would fit with the suboxone.
I also mentioned the injection option because I was ruling that out. I have never injected any drug and never will. That is just something I wont do..I am not judging those that do use needles, that is part of their ceremony...not part of mine.

I am now in a situation where I am in recovery....a very long way from being recovered...but there is a part of me that wants to feel something more. I wanted control and I think I have found it with the program I am on. I am using the program to regain control of my habit..and eventually eliminate it altogether. I simply like the feeling that this regiment provides and am curious to see if I can use it (not abuse it) to it's fullest potential, in the end it will take me to where it is designed to take me, I will stop using completely, but in the meantime I am going to enjoy the ride.
I hope I am not coming across as indifferent to anyone's struggles or as a cocky naive jerk. I have had plenty of experience with drugs and have come through the other side relatively unscathed, but opiates really got a hold of me and changed me in every way. They used to be utility drug for me. At first pain management...was nearly killed by some bitch in Grand Prix whilst minding my own business on my motorcycle.....but I digress....I used the meds because they drove me/enabled me to enjoy the the mundane nature of my job, environmental engineering, lots of stats, lots of lab work, lots of testing, I found a little artificial passion in my pain meds lets say. I wasn't fooling myself but at the same time I had no idea the hold that they could have on someone.
Even though I researched different types of opiates I wasn't prepared for the endgame. Fast forward 12 years and I chose, again only after research and completely loosing any self control, suboxone over methadone. If you know anything about methadone then you will know that the quicker road to cleansville is by way of suboxone. So bottom line is I anticipate the day where I will be off opiates altogether but in the meantime I intend to USE what I have at my disposal to its fullest potential....which is why I seek advice.
The part of me that is curious about this is the addict in me. I know this. To keep that part of me at bay I want to feed it using the diet of maintenance meds that I am allowed to have. I think this is a way to keep myself in check. I went on the program after using for 12 years. Fair to say that the last 6 of those years I was abusing and the last year I was a full on wreckless, selfish, shameless addict.
To Dave "Think before You Post", that comment about wikipedia/Hunter.S.Thompson was only a lame joke. Certainly not meant to offend or belittle the value of this website. Quite the opposite. Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas is a satirical version of a Bluelight blog. I was trying to be lighthearted and analogize my take on things.
One question though ......what are blogs for? I've never blogged or journaled before about anything. I see some people just write their days thoughts or tribulations, others post jokes or surveys/guessing games. Do blogs have categories or are they just blogs regardless of subject?

I used to HATE Sunday mornings. I'd wake up angry. Really angry. Angry that I was still alive, that I was out of drugs, out of money. Angry at what myself for what I had done the night before.

One Sunday morning in particular will stick out with me always.

The night before, I had been getting high (of course) at my neighbor's apartment. I was living with my Mom at the time, and she was sick of me shooting heroin all the time. I hadn't been stealing from her or anything but I was always high and being an asshole or on suboxone and being an asshole.

Anyway, we had run out of dope. I decided to go home, but my Mom had locked me out. I didn't have a key and she had gone to bed. So I began throwing small stones at her bedroom window, calling the house phone etc.

This went on for a while, probably not as long as it seemed to me. Eventually I lost my patience and threw a bigger rock through her window, breaking the glass and probably scattering some of it onto the bed she was sleeping in.

Still, she didn't get up.

So I called 911 and told them that I feared my mom was suicidal, that she had been drinking, and that I was afraid she was dead or dying inside her apartment.

Mind you, I could have easily just slept on my neighbor's couch.

The police and paramedics show up. The whole neighborhood is watching as they break the deadbolt on my mom's front door. The police make sure she's okay and then they leave.

I go inside and go to bed.

Words cannot describe the guilt and self-loathing I felt the next morning.




Now it's Sunday morning. I just went with my roommate to walk his dogs. There's no guilt, no remorse, no misery. I felt the Florida sun on my back and it felt good.

I would love to hear about optimizing my Suboxone use. I am on a 12mg daily regiment and have been for two months.
I have played around with my "carrie doses" a little bit. Taking 2mg nasally waiting then another 2mg about an hour later and then 8mg sublingually about an hour after that. Pretty good but I think there is greater potential in there. I will not inject, just a personal thing. Besides I did read this somewhere here, that injection of anything pill form is not easy and poses more risk than reward.
My suboxone regiment is 4 witnessed doses and 3 take homes per week. This is where I think it gets a bit sticky. 4 days a week I have to take a full 12mg all at once as it is witnessed and then for 3 days I can tinker with timing and strength of dose.
Adherence to the program will get me to full carries in about another 2 months. I have really behaved myself and completely stayed away from any other opiates of any kind since starting the suboxone. Which I must say has not been that difficult for the most part. The nature of the suboxone, from what I understand, makes it difficult to get where I used to go on other types of opiates period. I understand a little about the ceiling effect with the buprenorphine. Also the partial agonist structure of suboxone as a whole. I should mention that I am seeking the optimization of the "buzz" for the euphoria not for pain management. I was hoping that it is perhaps achievable by using timing or a maybe a complimentary opiate that fits into the available receptor puzzle. I have to provide a urine sample once a week which obviously is screened for opiates other than the prescribed medication.

Just spit balling here.... and again I haven't searched the threads for an answer....I hope to have someone read this and maybe give me some pointers based on experience and any other similarities. Honestly I am not even sure if this is what a blog is for.....but when I need to ask or say something where I think I can gain from or will contribute to the "Bluelight District", then I will "Blog it"

Awaiting your wisdom

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I love this site. The whole idea behind it and the sense of kinship it lends to people who would other wise feel alone is a good thing.
First off I am not a physician or an expert on pharmaceuticals. I do know a little bit about opiates, and that knowledge is based on use and research. And the use of one has led to the use and research of this maintenance drug called Suboxone. I have been taking it for almost two months daily. I'd like to clear the air about a few things people seem to either confuse and/or have been misinformed on regarding the two main ingredients in suboxone.

The main and functioning drug is buprenorphine. The reason I say "functioning drug" is because the second drug that makes the drug suboxone is called Naloxone. Naloxone was added to prevent the drug from being injected. When Saboxone is taken sublingually the Naloxone does nothing, that is to say, it does not do what it was put there to do. If Suboxone is injected intravenously the Naloxone causes severe withdrawal symptoms. The Naloxone is referred to as a full opiate antagonist. Being an antagonist it fights off the molecular interaction between opiates and the receptors in the brain. It is quite interesting how it does it's job when taken one way and it does nothing when taken another. It has to do with the size of the Naloxone molecule. It is too large to pass through the lining in the mouth or nasal cavity so it is forced through the gastrointestinal tract which neutralizes it's effects due to it's first pass characteristics. When taken properly the naloxone has no function.

The main ingredient buprenorphine is itself a very potent opiate. It is classified as a partial agonist. I think that it is classified this way because it is able to remove all other opiate molecules from the receptors instead of joining them. It has a much longer half life than most full agonists and remains active for 24-36 hours. Like it's paired ingredient naloxone, it is rendered neutral or ineffective if swallowed due to its first pass nature. Contrary to what people say, it is a very effective pain reliever, even in small doses. This is truer when buprenorphine is administered intravenously.

Suboxone will not provide the same euphoria that a full agonist provides but it certainly produces a pleasant "buzz" about 45min-1 hour after the dose is dissolved in the mouth. This feeling generally lasts at a noticeable intensity for several hours (even after taking the same dose for two months). This may not be true for everyone.

I will check back later for any opinions or questions about this. I have lots more to say but am probably pushing it a bit. One look at the length of this it probably won't be read by to many.

I hope everyone is well, playing safe and smart. All I can suggest is that you use in a way that gets you the most for the least. Least meaning the negative impact that the fun may cause physically,emotionally and financially. You have to survive it to have enjoyed it..and on and on..!

<!--Live now, for there is nothing in death.-->

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actually its not that bad, i just wanted to use some alliteration, lol.

but yea...the other day a good friend of mine (my best friend - my fucking brother from another mother, as cliche as that is) added me on facebook. only thing is, i haven't spoken to him in like 3 years. i really don't wanna fuck my head up talking to him again, cuz we both get really attached. like, he's the type of dude that if you're the one he's chilling with (he tends to take turns chilling with different people), he's chilling with you pretty much 24/7. now, like i said, i haven't spoken to him in probably 3 years, so who knows, maybe he's changed. and i don't even live near him (like 6 hours in the car), but even just getting back on the phone with him scares me. i have a real hard time with long distance relationships/friendships and if i start talking to dude again on the phone constantly, shit is gonna EAT at me not being able to see him and hang out all the time. cuz thats all i'm used to with him. sophomore, junior and senior year in high school i seriously chilled with him every single day. when i had my own place in 2003 (for 6 months, until my life fell apart), he all but lived at my apartment, along with all my other friends. we were a family and we barely ever were away from each other. i've shared some of the best times of my life with dude, but i'm really afraid to get close again. and please...i'm not talkin no gay shit (not that there's anything wrong with that, lol), but i truly love my friend, my brother and its been easier the past couple years just knowing that he's alright and not being in direct contact with him. i can't avoid him, but i also can't afford to get too close again at this point in my life. i can't afford for something to happen (more than likely my fault) and have this friendship ripped away from me again. fuck it...we'll see what happens. *you're almost 26 years old, beanfiend, man the fuck up!*