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Had some bad news from my drug counsellor today... the addictions service probably won't be able to prescribe me dextroamphetamine for my meth addiction. She gave me the name of a private psychiatrist who might be able to help, but he charges a lot and there's still no guarantee that I'll get the meds. I can't afford to pay that sort of money only to be told that he can't help either.

I'm feeling really disheartened over this. Opiate addicts can get suboxone or methadone, but meth addicts get nothing. And meth has been an epidemic in New Zealand for years... it causes way more problems than opiates do, or any other drug for that matter. Honestly, I wish the health system would fucking wake up! Instead of locking us up or expecting us to quit cold turkey (which is extremely difficult, as any meth addict would tell you), how 'bout providing us with some kind of maintenance program?

02/02/10 12:21 PM

self-centered - concerned solely or chiefly with one's own interests, welfare, etc.; engrossed in self; selfish; egotistical.
(source: dictionary.com [web version])

disease - abnormal condition; illness
(source: dictionary.com [mobile version])

How does the self-centered part of my disease affect my life and the lives of those around me?

I've been delaying answering this question for the simple fact that it seems HUGE. Since I originally typed out the question (about a week and a half ago) I have thought on this particular aspect of myself DAILY. Recognizing my self-centered nature is humbling in as much that, when I get cocky/egotistical, I tend to immediately realize that this is NOT a good quality and I start to feel guilt.

Hmmmmmm... ...I see that self-centeredness is closely related to self-awareness when I recognize personal selfishness.

I have found myself thinking rather recently 'Man, I'm a good guy!". This isn't a bad thing but who am I to assess myself in such a manner? I am the LAST person to evaluate my character or quality as a human being for three reasons.

1) Many times I dislike myself
2) Many times I like myself too much
3) I am biased

I have been hit with ego lately. I am exercising regularly lately and, in my opinion I am starting to get decent muscle tone. Yes, I can take the credit for the effort but... both my mom and dad's side of the family have excellent bone and muscle structure. I believe I have inherited this. So, I have an edge on those that haven't inherited such genes. I cannot take credit for something I have done absolutely NO work in acquiring.

A result of this exercise, I have increased confidence (increased testosterone?) and carry myself a certain way. Well, a female in the rooms was asking about me and this made me feel like some Brad Pitt motherfucker. (I am a bald, 39 year old ex-junkie NOT some male model)

Now check this out... when I'm walking in a store, I notice women looking at me. This makes me feel good but also it makes me question my character. If these women find me attractive, why does it affect the way I feel? They are simply looking at an external shell. I cannot take credit for this external shell so they are accepting/approving of me for reasons that I have no control over. If they were accepting/approving of me for my actions and thoughts of kindness than I believe that this would be more acceptable to me.

Also, how do I know I don't have some sort of dirt or smudge on my face and THAT'S why they are looking at me?

The thing is, I LIKE that women find me attractive (if they truly do) and it puts me in a good mood. Why do I need this type of approval?

I have more to write on self-centeredness but will add it later. Other topics on my self-centered nature include (my perceived above average intelligence, my actions geared towards being in service to others, the belief that I think MY WAY is practical/logical for others even though I don't know the complete set of circumstances).

More later...

02/02/10 10:50 PM

Now to tackle the subject of intelligence.

Okay, I recognize that I am rather intelligent but do I think too highly of this? At times, yes. I get frustrated with people in NA very often. I judge many. I get on this mental rampage about how many don't have computers and those that do only know the basics and don't value the ENORMOUS wealth of information the Internet provides and how folks go about things the hard way by shying away from these amazing tools.

I TRY to view things as 'hey, everyone is different' or 'they don't have the financial resources' but this doesn't work for me. I am a snob when it comes to technical things and I need to lose this attitude of 'I'm better than you because I know how to expertly achieve results via various computer applications'.

I know its wrong but I judge people as 'dumb' WAY too often. I'm ashamed to admit this but if I'm going to develop some sort of decent character I need to be COMPLETELY honest concerning my flaws so that I can develop some sort of tolerance and humility.

As I type this I feel like a COMPLETE asshole. How fucking dare I?!?!!?


02/03/10 10:30 AM

service - an act of helpful activity; help; aid
(source: dictionary.com [web version])

servitude - slavery or bondage of any kind
(source: dictionary.com [web version])

In the beginning of my recovery I was terrified that 12 Stepping wasn't going to work for me this time around. I've been in NA twice before and experienced two separate 5 year periods of continuous clean time.

This time around it felt different and I was worried that perhaps I was that one person that the program didn't work for.

I made the decision to do whatever was necessary, follow all the suggestions and fuck anyone that got in my way.

I made the suggested 90 meetings in 90 days (a meeting a day for 90 days). I shared honestly in meetings. I got a sponsor. I joined a home group. I got involved in service.

Service, in NA terms can be anything from making coffee, setting up chairs, chairing meetings, committing to a position within the home group (Chairperson, Treasurer, Group Service Representative, etc.).

These things were easy for me and it wasn't enough. I decided to break the pattern that I displayed before. I used to isolate a great deal and this (as I look back) stunted my growth.

Part of breaking this pattern involved the following:

* walking up to the nervous 'new guys' and shooting the shit with them. It was uncomfortable at first but became easier.

* giving complete strangers rides to meetings

* calling people (strangers) newer than me to see how they were doing/feeling

* putting food in the newcomer's stomach

* giving clothes that I no longer wore or needed to newcomers

* typing out resumes for people at no charge

* taking people to job interviews

* helping people fill out the forms for cash/medical assistance

* taking people to the welfare office

* finding homeless shelters/free drug and alcohol rehab for two people in different states

* having people over to my apartment when they felt like using even though I had other things to do

* giving people rides to Drug Court and therapy

* giving people rides to work

Now, I'm listing these for a few reasons:

1. To take inventory of positive things I've done so I can reflect on them when I find myself in a self-hating/poor-me mood

2. To more clearly state how service oriented actions can lead to self-centeredness

3. So that I will remember

Now, on many occasions, I have found myself patting myself on the back for these actions. I can say that in MOST cases I was doing the right thing for the right reason. On some occasions I was doing the right thing for the wrong reason. That wrong reason is simply so that people would like me, say good things about me and so people would think I had some sort of 'extra' ability to accomplish things beyond a normal person's scope.

Being in service HAS taught me a lot but it has also taught me that I can still be manipulative in order to put forward an image of myself that is not necessarily an accurate/truthful perception of who I am.

Its said that 'self-centeredness is the core of my disease [abnormal condition]'. I need to be as diligent as possible in exposing my self-centeredness.

This entry is going to be quite lengthy...

"My Minds as Empty as My Soul"

All her memories packed away into boxes. Her hopes and quickly fading dreams stacked in the corner to keep the spiders company while she moved on. Every creak and groan from the floors sounded like the very foundation whispering it's goodbye.

These walls have seen so much of who she had become. The day her future husband moved in, the birth of their daughter, her falling into the depths of addiction. Than as everything fell to pieces the house stood silently watching. The fights, the yelling, screaming, the blood and the silence that always followed.

Her hand on the bedroom door almost ready to leave, but still a part not wanting to go. There had been so many good times too.
Sitting at the desk with him watching a movie they'd already seen a million times, still laughing together. Curling up in bed while he read to her until she fell asleep. Late nights when they'd stay up talking until the sun was raising and the birds singing. So many good times here.

Their daughter is the best though, the three of them playing Candy Land. Singing bedtime songs together and reading stories. The mountains of My Little Ponies we'd spend the night cleaning up. Brushing her soft hair from her face as she snuggled into bed. Her wonderful bear hugs that would almost knock you from your feet.

She walked slowly back further into the room, stepping over the threshold into the tiny attached bathroom. Where her life had began to end and his eventually did. She kept the door propped open, to scared of what she might see on the inside of the door. Scared that once it closed she may not be able to open it again.

Slow and small baby steps bringing her past the center of the room towards the window. Legs shaking she sat sideways on the closed toilet, facing the sink like she had a million other times when she was about to do her next hit. Her eyes unfocused lost in memories.

Every bit of her attention focused on tapping every last crumb of powder out of the damnable tiny plastic bag, than mixing in the water. Stirring, pulling it in and pushing out the air bubble. She hardly ever bothered with cotton it just took to damn long. While she taps her wrist for a vein, that god like smell drifts to her nose. Once found it's a quick stick, she hardly ever misses anymore. Slowly pulling back a little to make sure she's in and watching the crimson blossom grow inside until she pushes it all in. Than the 3-5 second wait for the insanely perfect rush to...

The bile in her stomach was raising while she was lost in though. Thankfully her body still simply reacted to those things without her help and she coughed up the liquid into the stained and dusty sink. Her small hands clenching either side of the cracked sink, head hung so that her dark hair served as a cloak from the world while she stood trembling for a moment. Slowly she traced the crack in the ceramic with the tip of her finger. Lifting her head she read the blurry, smeared words she had written all those nights ago.

"I'm Sorry"

She didn't remember where all the blood came from, but there had been more than enough spots to choose from then. Opening long gashes down the inner sides of her arms. The memory of writing on the mirror is in third person. Another is much more clear in what she's doing, just not when. He's not not in bed with her again and she can remember feeling the tears soaking the pillow. Her secret release tucked under her pillow, the moonlight catching off the edge. One long steady cut running up the inner part of her arm from wrist to elbow on each arm. As the paint pools together she carefully dips her right index finger in, beginning to spell out the two words that would haunt her for the next year and quite possibly longer still.

Above her head on the well she neatly wrote, "LOVE LOST".

Coming out of the daze she had been in she looked around the small room again. Her eyes falling to the spot where they had set up the crib. So much time had passed since then, it seemed like a life time ago. Leaving the room she kept herself from looking at the door, focusing instead on her shoes. quick steps through the bedroom and into the hallway she couldn't bring herself to say goodbye to her daughter's room, even if it wasn't for forever. The comforting creak of the steps under her feet, her mom sitting on the couch waiting to give her a ride.

Everything was suddenly becoming too damn real.

"I'll be back soon. Visiting, and to help out around the house..." her voice trailing off, as her mom hugged her tightly. She knew. They left the house together. In the crisp air outside she turned once when she got to the car looking back at the house. Than up at her window, half expecting but mostly wishing to see him there. So she could run back up and tell him she loved him, that she was sorry about everything and to say goodbye. She kept watching but the window stayed empty. He wasn't here, not now anyway. It was time for her to go for now.

Getting into the car with her mom she turned and smiled.

"Ready?" She asked.

"Yeah, are you hon?"

She nodded and they pulled out, she watched the house get smaller in the mirror until they turned. Whispering to herself, I promise I'll be back soon.

That's right. I'm a tough guy now. You may have heard of us?

Ya see, my dog has a nickname, Puppy Power. After a short discussion with him, we decided that I am an honorary 'doggie'.

We figured that, since we are so tight, we may as well get a crew started.

You are now reading a Blog entry from one of the founders of the notorious Puppy Power gang.

Please don't think that this will change me in any way. We roll hard but BLer's are cool in our book.

If you see yellow snow with the letters 'PP", let it be known you are in OUR territory. Respect must be given.

P-P for life... P-P 'til death.

It's hard to believe that a week ago I was fucked out of my mind.

If you'd told me then that in a week's time I'd be sober and feeling mostly okay (still sleeping 12 hours a night, still sometimes getting brain zaps, but overall feeling pretty human) I would have said "ah, good good, glad I made it" -- I wouldn't have been surprised, but I would have felt sorry for my future self, living life with a big hole in it without the fun times of meph.

Well, honestly, I was wrong -- there's no big hole where meph used to go.

If you'd told me a week ago that I'd write that, I'd have said "ha ha, yeah, of course you'll say that - you're never going to admit that you miss it".

So, do I miss it? Really?

Well... going after the easy and obvious one first - do I crave it?
No. I honestly don't. I think of meph, and I remember the acrid taste of it dripping down the back of my throat, the fear as my vision got worse and worse, the desperation as I dropped bigger and bigger doses trying to get away from the anxious wrecked halfway-there state of fuckedness.

Do I miss it though? Before I stopped I wrote a half a page of ramblings from a truly euphoric mephy state. It starts "here I am, standing on top of a mountain looking down across all that it our world". The rest of it doesn't make much sense -- but yes, I miss that feeling -- and I know that there's nothing like it in the world of sobriety.

I'm trying to find the right words to describe how it felt, but I guess that if you're reading this, you probably already know.

In the end though, it wasn't worth it. Even the most enthusiastic recreational drug takers wavered at "yeh, I have practically no peripheral vision left but fuck me, the euphoria is nice".
Doesn't matter what they say though, does it? By my own standards, and my own judgement, I say it's not worth it.

If you're a happy occasional user, please don't come and flame. I don't know why I keep asking stuff like that, since no one has ever flamed me in blog comments - I guess I'm just protecting myself with pre-emptive puppy dog eyes *insert appropriate smiley* no 8) no 8( no

I have been having small seizures when I sleep which wakes me up and i awaken at the end of the seizure, I suppose it the end cause I stop shaking once i open my eyes and am aware of things, which abnormally has taken me a couple minutes after waking up those days when normally I am a get up and go-go-go type person.

I am going to call my doctor once Terry is off the phone with Rogers.

I might also be hemmoraging, explaination under NSFW for TMI info.



I have had such an intense migrane since this last "seizure" last night.

My other withdrawl syndrome symtoms have almost gone, all I got a little of the sweats but the brain fog is gone and I can think clearly now but these "seizures" are worrying me.

I will try to keep you guys informed if I can, I am gonna go now and call the doc.

Hopefully it's nothing too serious.

This day needs to turn around for me, woke up with a killer head ache. Of course I never got around to calling in for my meds to this wouldn't happen. So really it's my own dumb fault for being lazy and forgetful.

I've been job hunting for months now and last week I had a really good interview, left the place thinking positive. Heard back from her this morning and they went with someone else, to top it off she told me to give her a call when I finish my GED. During the interview she said it was a concern but that as long as I was working on getting it completed that wouldn't affect me getting the job. Blah.

Also for I think the third or fourth time now my caseworker has canceled on me. She's got papers that I need and forms I need her to assistance in filling out before I can send them. Holding all kinds of shit up.

I'm really trying to stay in a good mood but WTF. It's all small shit, and that's how it always is for me tiny annoying things that pile up until I'm in either a total funk of not wanting to do anything or just being fucking pissed off for days. these little things on top of all the big shit in my life that i'm trying to deal with are not wanted or needed right now. and I guess I just wanted to rant about it so I didn't flip out on the next person that happens to call my cell unknowing of what is up.

So yeah I'm going with Mondays suck....Blah

A to the Awwww


S to the WTF??!!!!!

The leafs are trading Stajan for WHO? Fucking idiots.

O for the OOps!

LOL I am a fucking idiot. We had a pizza night last night. So we have a halal pizza store just the a couple doors down and we've never tried them yet. So I go and buy some. Guess what I try and order. I say, "Can I have a Large Hawaiian please" Yeah Im a fucking genious. Good pizza though.

I'm feeling good, great. I was thinking about my faith today, and wondering if I could realistically return to it. I am not sure, I have alot of hate towards it, not hate but disappointment and offishness. Its hard to explain but I don't think me and faith are ready yet, so faith and still kiss my bum bum.

luvs to ya all

Holy Shit, Cipralex is a gift from the heavens!

Blissful sleep! Calm as hell.

Only thing that i don't like about the Clonazepam is the constant yawning and slight tiredness.

Daaaamn. haha.

from studying myself to death...

math, law, government.........



I've hardly left my house except to go to my math class on campus. Am. Gov and Torts litigation are online...


and yet, I am hardly ever "put together" to even go out side.

Hair sticking out of my head--- like a mad scientist and ink on my hands from "reminders".

coffee in my hand, tasty bite indian cuisine in my frying pan. - - -

frickin educational boot camp is where i am.

lulz

I am starting this a way I can be responsible for my recreational coke habit. It constanting toes the line. Somedays I feel in control and somedays I am hit with the overwhelming need. I need to keep myself accountable for the actions I take in regards to drug use. I need to know that I will be okay if I don't use. I can't think of these hair brained schemes to get money. I need to eat.

I need to think of constructives ways to deal with my cravings. All I can come up with is smoking...hah. I just don't want this to get out of hand. I want to be in control.

My mind just starts racing sometimes just thinking
about it.

I will be okay. I will be okay. I will okay. No coke this weekend and that's okay.

When I say that in head I feel so disappointed. Not used to waiting. Ugh.

-S

So I still cant sleep. in the past 4 days ive slept about 14 hours...not consecutively...
Very angry about this...good thing I'm not old...Might have had a nervous break down by now... So seroquel was something we got in detox to help us sleep... and my g-ma has a script for it... but i feel guilty (this is a new feeling to have to deal with...) stealin' her pills... and in turn have not had an ounce of shut eye... oh the perils of drug detox...haha
Its amazing to think that just 4 days Ago i was passed out in the bathroom with a fucking needle in my arm...and here I sit, wired on suboxone and not really minding...
I'd like to write a letter to the philip morris company, thanking them for cigarettes...I'm sure they'd appreciate it...beats the hell out of opening hate mail filled with pictures of dying babies...: /

I frequent craigslist R & R in Toronto. I know, I know, my own damn fault for going to such a stupid place.

God it's full of sterotypes and bigots and racists and idiots.

You try and be nice to someone who posts a sad post and they come back and insult you for days on hand. wtf?

This world is becoming a sad place.... the internet world....and somewhat the real world.

Can we all just live in peace and harmony?

*le sigh*

I can't think straight. That's the benadryl, combined with the shock of forcing myself to look at your picture of you lying in your coffin. I have no one to talk to, everyone in my phone is dead. I'm speechless for once. Idk what to do. Keep pressing on like I'm fine. For the first time, I can't visit her grave.

Today I started therapy.......
I had only just touched the surface when I had a panic attack ! hahaha
I'm sure that made a great first impression
I also said things, as sometimes when I get going, I ramble on WAY too long, that were possibly a misrepresentation of who I am......
But overall I was very happy with the woman and I hope it proves to be beneficial.....
I got therapy homework- breathing exercises!
I am excited for it and hope that next session I feel so positively about it.

Do they treat the drug addiction first or the mental illness. I've seen on "Intervention" that they treat the addiction first so they can make sure the mental illness wasn't caused by the drugs.

Is this commonly done?

I'm trying to understand this.

I read somewhere that one cannot become addicted to SSRIs, just physically dependant, is it just me or does that sound stupid?

13 days in counting. Im kinda expecting a RTS or thrown out but who knows.

3 weeks until my First Appearce in court on Feb, 22nd., 2010.

I might have to move again if I get even partial custidy of her, to a three bedroom.

If anyone on here if from Toronto, Ontario and knows any 3bdrms under $1300 than shoot the ad my way

8:20 AM
I dropped off three of the four "Treatment Objectives" to my therapist this morning and told her I will be leaving on Friday afternoon. She was ok with it.

There is no therapeutic value to the weekends here. I just need to wait for the phones to get turned on and call my mom and make arrangements with the kennel to pick up Shaman.

I just looked at Friday's schedule and have changed my mind on what time to leave. I think I'll head out at 9:45 am.

My email, text messages, voice mail and Facebook are probably blown up by now. I'm probably going to need to spend about an hour or two replying to messages.

10:00 PM
"Are you talkin' about the first thing or the second thing?" --Analyze This

I guess I'll start with the first thing...

It was between 7:00 PM and 7:30 PM and I was having a cigarette outside on the deck of our unit. There are two floors to the dual-diagnosis unit. Essentially, each floor is a separate group.

I was talking with people and moved my foot and knocked over a styrofoam cup with water. I said "Oh shit, I knocked over someone's water."

Next thing I hear is, "What the fuck?!?!?" and a dude steps out from underneath our balcony and yells something along the lines of "What the fuck you doin'" in a ghetto, tough guy voice.

I said, "Sorry dude, it was an accident".

There were maybe 8 to 10 of us on the deck and a few of them yelled down that it was an accident.

I was already standing up because I wanted to see who I had spilled water on. It was the dude that I have already pre-judged as an asshole because he struts around like a bad ass and is always trying to get in all the girls' pants (I consider this fucking with someone's recovery).

He yells up, "I don't give a shit if it was an accident or not" (or something along those lines.

I yelled down, "It was an accident you stupid mother fucker!"

He puffs his chest out and says, "Are you outta your mind?".

I said, "Fuck this!" and ran to the door, tossed my cigarette on the ground and flew down the stairs.

A girl that I'm friendly with yelled and tried to grab my arm "Jeff, no!"

I got down the stairwell and flung open the door. One of the Clinical Assistants (CA) was standing in front of the guy who was maybe 8' from the door. This CA is a REALLY cool guy and a big mother fucker. He isn't an addict but had done a lot of time in the penitentiary for whatever reason. I have a great deal of respect for him and view him as a true American Muslim (as opposed to those phony, contrary Muslims we have here in the States).

The asshole who I spilled the water on says "What? I'm supposed to be scared 'cause you came down the stairs?"

I say, "I don't give a fuck if you're scared or not, mother fucker!"

A female CA who I also have respect for had my my arm in both hands but it was a gentle hold. She said, "Jeff, its not worth your recovery."

At this point I realize that there was no way we could fight since there were so many people surrounding us (mostly staff at the facility).

The female CA says, "Jeff, come upstairs."

I turned around and went back up.

I was furious. Well, I was full of rage and adrenalin. My heart was racing, I was shaky and paced the hallway of the second floor with fists clenched.

I was feeling violent and wanted to put my fist through the wall but I didn't.

Later on, the girl that tried to stop me from running downstairs told me she saw the guy looking up at the deck and then walked over to a couple other guys downstairs and was talking to them and looking up at the deck.

This is rehab. I'm not concerned about being jumped by a bunch of dudes. There is no way this guy made 'real' friends willing to risk charges over a spilled cup of water.

I asked one roommate not to tell my skinhead friend roommate about what happened (he was walking with his girl when this happened). My skin friend is going home tomorrow morning/early afternoon. I don't want him involved if something goes down. Not only that, I promised I would take care of his pregnant girlfriend since she won't be leaving for a few days after him.

She's a good girl and her man is a good dude so I have no problem playing 'bodyguard'. I also told him I would make sure she was eating and comfortable in the event she is put on bed rest again due to her pregnancy.

I was wondering when and if the 'tough guy' shit was gonna happen here.

I am so interested in Color therapy- It works like aromatherapy- only with a different sense

I do find that Blue calms me......
Red makes me feel more passionate-
Green makes me feel balanced and Purple does inspire my imagination......
There is a shade of purple/blue/gray that is sort of pale but not dull that makes me feel spiritually intune......
There is a shade of blue/green that is not teal (but close) and not sea-green but a deep jewel tone like shade that makes me feel spiritually primal and natural......
Black and Brown make me feel comfortable and homey......

I find it strange that when my hair is its natural color I feel awkward but when I dye it dark I feel safe.
I wear natural colors and muted colors alot and I think this has something with me wanting to blend in and be unseen or maybe it is that I feel closer to the earth that way?.....
It is strange the way color plays a part in our lives......
Most of our color choices probably go unnoticed- But I am sure they play a part in telling our hidden secrets.....

Back to color therapy- I want to learn more, and I begin to and always wind up moving onto something else- But I am trying now to bring more color into my home to bring more of a balance of emotions.....

What do any of you know on colortherapy?
I'm interested!!
I want to learn more.....

PHOTOS!!!!!!
Post 'em!!
Write about 'em!
Here is one of me- gabbing on the phone while sitting covered in my bags at an airport


Now, I promise, you can come up with one more exciting than that!!!!

i still live my life for you, waiting day to day, watching the little green dot appear and disappear. i live by a different calendar nowadays.

how long until you discover that i am here talking about you? how long until you click the little read all posts made by versd link and realise its me here? i doubt it will happen, you've left this place and this life behind you now.

in some ways i want you to know, so you can see how youve made me feel. and at other times i couldnt be more ashamed that you were seemingly the catalyst for my life turning from being normal to this.

i mentioned months ago in another blog post that i would be looking up when the time came.

it was true. i looked up and thought of you. i thought of all the good times, and the bad, about you, about me, about the love i still have for you. and how i would still give up anything to have things back the way they were, to change the past and the decisions i made to result in what my life is now.

then i railed another line of coke and made out with some random american girl.

this is not the life i wanted to lead.

my schedule is a special one which always has time for you. yours is a special one which never has time for me. its a good thing im leaving again, leaving you behind, leaving you to do what you had always said you'd do with me. settle down.

whatever. ill travel the world, meet new people, see new places and do all the things which you told me a long time ago that you absolutely had to do and thats why you couldnt settle down. fuck your contradictions and hypocrisy.

there are mine as well. i sit here offering help and advice to others in SLR. while at the same time, i can never take my own advice and leave you out of my life. is it wrong of me to try help other people when im in such a bad place myself? to offer advice on how to fix a relationship when i so badly ruined ours?

I would write on this week's theme, but I am feeling more stream-of-consciousness. So instead I am going to vent about stuff. I am stuck where I am waiting for 2 packages that need to be signed for (new coat and perfume oils, real serious business ) and although I'll be briefly picking up food, I'd hate to miss these packages. Buying stuff on the Internet is fun, especially when part of the money goes to the Haitian relief efforts (www.possets.com) and LL Bean has coats at 70% off.

I'm going to change names in this situation. It relates to no one who is a Bluelighter and I don't believe any BLers have ever met the involved parties. This could turn into an SLR thread, but since it's more a personal rant at how appallingly people can behave, I figured I'd put it here. Following is cut for length, though no pics and it's work safe.



Morals of the story:

• Don't let a person become an addiction;
• In situations involving children, they must come first;
• Don't get involved with a coworker;
• Put a password on your Blackberry;
• Stay faithful to your partner both physically and emotionally; and
• Don't try to juggle potential partners or what you perceive to be partners.

Hope everyone is well. I keep meaning to write in this thing - special thanks to Ocean and Dave for maintaining this excellent space in which I can vent my tl;dr. Comments welcomed. Life is doing OK overall. There's a lot of change going on at once, but I am in a better place than I was over the holidays mentally (thanks to Valium script). Thanks to the friends who've seen me through the bullshit. I think I've reached a point where I can laugh about it all - humor is the remedy for all that ails.

It's been pointed out to me that i'm becoming very negitive lately. I've lost so much of myself in my life, so many people that I loved and I never noticed how dark I was allowing myself to become. I still scared to let anyone near me, I'm simply waiting for them to walk back out of my life too and cause more pain.
In short I need to find a way to ease this dark part inside and accept that people come and go. That the memories they leave behind are always going to be there.
It's an area I have a hard time with though.

I had I VERY bad trip on LSD. Firstly, I consider myself an experienced tripper having taken lsd about 10+ times and mushrooms far more (also research chems). However, the trip in question was nothing like even the worst of these, I was fully delusional, hit friends (thought one was the devil), took of all my cloathes and ran about in public, drank a bottle of acid and was lucky to end up in hospital not dead. I was honestly on a diffrent planet, imagining millions of far fetched things to be happening (such as a terrorist attack, or my whole life being a dream). I recoverd the minute I stoped tripping, but was woried that if I take acid again I would go back to this psychotic state. I like acid and want to do it again. Not only this but I'm usualy quite rational on psychedelics compared to some people. However, I was woried that this is somehow indicated that I am not entirly mentally stable and that if it happened again it might push me over the edge for good.