Blogs

I tried this product called Esscape and it is just like Xanax. I cannot find it on the web or any stores. Does anyone know where I can find it?

Thanx

Does anyone have suggestions for new Blog Themes?

I know last time I asked if keeping Blog Themes was something you all would be interested in- the replies we got, were for YES!
SO.....we need new theme ideas!

Please post as a comment any and all Theme ideas!

obama supports your nod! yea them green ones thats blurry is called "black president" lol
enjoy.........

I don't think some people particularly like the "new" PT.
But there were ones that didn't like the old one either. I can understand that the old one could get rather annoying.
But now people are getting bothered by who I choose to single out and troll or whatever.
Please, STFU.
There is no winning and you know what...

New PT doesn't give a fuck

My brother found out he has lung cancer. I wish I could feel sadness or even pitty but I can't. He's a pedophile so in a way I am happy he got it. In a slight way it is sad cause he IS my brother.

I just don't really care.

Isn't that aweful?

obsession - the domination of one's thoughts or feelings by a persistent idea, image, desire, etc.
(source: dictionary.com [web version])

Have I been obsessed with a person, place, or thing? If so, how has that gotten in the way with my relationships with others? How else have I been affected mentally, physically, spiritually, and emotionally by this obsession?

02/05/10 10:34 AM

Ha! This question is enormous!!! It looks like I'm geting off easy though because I can honestly say that I haven't obsessed over anyone, any place or anything lately and I'm glad (simply because this question is extremely in depth.

Catch me at a later date and time when my life isn't as easy as it is now and I'm sure I'll have tons to write.

dear fuck diary,

today has been...the shittiest day that i can recall in about half a year's time. not a horrendous one...no...fuck you. no one died, nothing catastrophic happened. it's just been a shitty, shitty day that involves several factors wedged together in close proximity. let me start from when my eyes rolled open two hours after they should have. the asshole that screams loud music in my face at what i like to call "satan's hours of fuck you" had apparently decided it wasnt going to fulfill its only purpose of existence. i immediately jumped out of the warm comfort of my bed and ran to the coffee maker while frantically dialing numbers to the places i was late to. both parties were utterly perturbed.
i burned my tongue with terribly weak coffee as i finally reached my car, completely forgetting about the mountainous terrain of snow that lay on top and behind. once i finished getting all of that the fuck off, i was off to take my daughter to school and somehow managed to spill the remaining coffee not only on myself, but on practically the entire steering wheel.
at work i had to park in a more unusual spot due to excess automobiles, but luckily my g-pa was there to ensure i knew i was a dumbass by yelling and pointing and calling me a dumbass (hilarious even at the time). throughout the time i was there i hit my head on every watering head, missed a step, dropped various items including my cigarettes in a puddle of water and nine trays of dry soil six packs. i may possibly have broken my g-ma's coffee maker (when she gets back i plan to call), i got one of those little white things in top soil lodged within the corner of my eye, and i was forced to listen to 94.9 country for the greater part of the day.
as im leaving, i pull out, i drive maybe twenty feet until i hear a siren. apparently i have a busted tail light and just as i roll my window back up i see my papa on his front porch laughing, pointing, and slapping his knee. i wave, he gives me the finger, and i head to where i am now.
and im not going anywhere for the rest of the day. what's fuck weird is that i love these fucking days. i love to not only bitch about it but to make it funny because that's what it is.

"life is what you take it as, so dont take it so fucking seriously"
-me g-pa

manifesting - readily perceived by the eye or the understanding; evident; obvious; apparent; plain
(source: dictionary.com [web version])

What is the specific way in which my addiction has been manifesting itself most recently?

02/04/10 11:52 PM

My first thought on this is concerning exercise. When I don't do any exercise (pull-ups in particular) on any given day or if I don't do as much as I think I can due to laziness, I start to beat myself up. I say in my head 'You want physical results but you aren't fucking working for them'. I stress over not achieving my potential.

I'm looking over my apartment and I am also seeing definite signs of unmanageability. Essentially, my place is a mess. It isn't dirty but it is very cluttered (clothes all over the floor, cleaning products not put away, books and papers scattered on tables, empty cigarette packs laying around).

I mean, c'mon man, I'm not working and my apartment is small. Whats so hard about picking up after myself, dusting or running the vacuum on occasion?

I tune out at meetings more often lately. Its not a matter of being cocky (or is it?). I tend to tune out when I start judging the particular person who is sharing so I either read my Basic Text or browse through my phone. This was unheard of for me in the first 4.5 months. I listened to every fuckin' word then.

I'm guessing that this question is asking if I'm replacing my drug use with other things such as shopping, eating, gambling, sex, etc. I can honestly say that I am not replacing the drugs with any of these aforementioned things and I can't really clearly see anything else I may be substituting.

02/05/10 12:32 AM

Okay, fuck it... there is another thing that is evident concerning my behavior. On occasion I've been 'taking care of myself' to Internet porn. Not frequently but, the thing is, I haven't used porn since my addiction.

I typically avoid masturbation but, well, sometimes its necessary. I could have sex if I wanted to but I don't want to use anyone for that purpose for the fact that misleading emotions might get involved and I have no interest in hurting anyone.

My sex drive is usually rather high and I think my high protein diet combined with my (mostly) daily exercise routine may be making it even higher.

It just kind of makes me raise an eyebrow since I haven't used porn since my using days.

Yes, I am a little embarrassed talking about this but I need to be honest regardless of potential embarrassment.

Is oxycontin or vicodin ever prescribed anywhere for arthritis or fibromyalgia pain? [email protected]

I have been approved for CBT at the CAMH Anxiety Clinic YAY!

I also have a nurologist appointment on the 26th YAY!

and also have an apppointment for my EEG too!!!!


omg I am so happy to this stuff done.


Thank you D for encouraging me to do this shit. I wish I could hug to to tank you but I guess just thank you so much here wil have to do.

I am moving along so quickly.

EEG - Feb 11th
Court - Feb 22nd
Neurologist - Feb 26th

Things are falling into place just as they need to be.

Iam so happy right now EEEEEEEEE! *squeal*

well someone left a message on my answering machine, i better go check it out before the beepin drives me totally insane LOL

Does anyone know where to get ecstacy pills in the bay area?

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

emotion - A mental state that arises spontaneously rather than through conscious effort and is often accompanied by physiological changes; a feeling:
(source: dictionary.com [web version])

spirit - an attitude or principle that inspires, animates, or pervades thought, feeling, or action
(source: dictionary.com [web version])

How has my disease affected me physically? Mentally? Spiritually? Emotionally?

02/03/10 2:30 PM

PHYSICALLY


A scar from an open wound from injecting. Also note the bicep veins. There used to be ONE solid, thick vein running straight up the center. I must have split that somehow into these spidery looking veins


White indented scars from injecting. I have quite a few of these


Caved in, thin nostril from insufflating


Razor cut from attempted suicide (yes, I know I did it wrong)

02/03/10 3:46 PM

MENTALLY

I'm going to answer this part in the present tense...

I actually feel mentally invigorated now that I am clean compared to when I was actively using. At times I do notice myself obsessing. I do find myself analyzing things more nowadays and sometimes I have slight OCD behaviors but nothing to the extent that I am worried about.

I am extremely anal about how certain things should be done. I can use these entries as an example:

* The titles must be labeled in the same syntax
* The time/date must be in the same format
* The definitions must be at the top of the entry

SPIRITUALLY

In my addiction my spirit was affected by drugs. When I was high, all was well. This was short lasting and then there was the come-down or the next day when I needed to start the entire cycle over again.

I was typically broken, hopeless, self-hating, depressed, full of self-pity, manipulative, selfish, arrogant (at times), angry, resentful, careless, dishonest, lazy...

EMOTIONALLY

When I wasn't high the emotions I most often experienced was anger and ambivalence.

I was taking anti-depressants through most of my addiction and they supressed most all other emotions.

I did feel love for a particular woman and this, I believe was genuine. I was unable to show the love I felt however due to the dominant selfish and enslaved feeling I was enduring.

Of course, I also felt confused. I was caught up in the obsession and compulsion of my addiction and couldn't understand (at the time) why I just couldn't stop when everything I could ever want was right in front of me if I just stopped using

I've been putting it off for a while now but last night I finally wrote on my first step, I only answered question one but hell baby steps right.
Anyway, looking over what I had written I did what I do best..I sat up most well okay damn near all of the night picking away at myself. My flaws, dislikes and so on.
I was looking forward to doing this at first, now *sigh* these questions are going to lead into long ass sleepless nights and a shit-load of notebooks. Granted I know it's for the best, learning about myself, personally I wish I could dig a hole and crawl into it sometimes but maybe I'll feel differently after a bit.

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.