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hey all
been a minute since i' ve posted anything here. Just want to let people know that i'm doing good.

have had some problems with the other clients here, other than that been fine.

my conception of god is still off a little bit, working on that right now.

got to see my sponsor the other day, so that was nice. I talked to him about ressentments and why I wanted to beat the snot out of this guy,
he told me to pray for him for 2 weeks. been rough doing that because i really dont know god that well.

will update later,
drew

I wrote a poem after I'd been off all drugs (except ones scripted to me for genuine reasons, even if my NA sponsor took my key-tags off me when she found out I was on clonazepam for epilepsy - not something I'd hidden from her intentionally, I just didn't know she'd see it as wrong, as I was also on dexamphetamine for ADHD...and she was okay with that cos it didn't make me 'high' - weird one, cos neither did the clonazepam, but anyway, I still considered myself drug-free, I just fucked off away from bloody NA...time to stop discussing this, shit it brings me down and pisses me off even thinking about that woman and the rest of her fellow 'worshippers of the nameless Higher Power')

btw: if ur into NA, I'm sorry if that hurt ur feelings, I hate hurting ppl...its just the NA group IN AUCKLAND (ppl tend to all go to the same meetings, this is a small country) really hurt mine, anyway NA obviously aint for me:
-I was ostracised by evryone, apart from my sponsor, who was into horses and seemed nice at first...and of course, my best friend, who went for about 6 months after leaving rehab (when she relapsed, I did too, not long after, esp after wat my sponsor did to me...)
-I'm actually a Christian (an open-minded one as u may have gathered but the idea of ppl being told to worship/make a Higher Power out of 'the NA rooms' felt too uncomfortably cult-like), I believe if any Higher Power can help me fully kick meth when I feel it's time too that'll b God, as in the biblical one
-I don't look at addiction in black-and-white terms...I think u can b addicted to heroin and know never to touch it again once uve started the road to recovery from skag addiction (this is just an example btw) yet still drink wine sometimes, smoke the odd J with mates, and even hav a pill or 2 at parties (after all - yes, u can cross-addict, but if u take precautions not to abuse these substances...u shud b fine, cos none of them really compare with heroin)
-I don't think one needs to get off evrything they abuse at once...IMO thats a shock to the system and makes u more likely to relapse if anything; eg. I had 2 main drugs of abuse after my last relapse: heroin and methamphetamine...I decided to get myself on the methadone program first and start with H since my veins r in bad shape and smacks so costly in NZ u have to fund it wiv crime/prostitution (no thanks); now I'm a yr clean (apart from the odd slip) from opiates, I'm working on P...this I'm doing by first weaning down the amount I use (just 3 months ago, I was smoking/IVing up to 3gms a day...then my gf and I both did a 2wk detox, and went back to it but only allow ourselves a ridiculously small amount: 1/16th of a gm each per week, always smoked [thats less than a point])...wen the time is right I plan to only use P if I'm at a party and theyre passing the pipe; Ill certainly never buy it myself - or even seek it out. P will b harder than opiates cos theres no 'methamphetadone', its always bn my first DOC, I have ADHD so my dopamine supplies were fucked before I started using, and my life has revolved round P for 10yrs...whereas H was only a 5yr addiction; just one I constantly relapsed on instead

but if ur into NA and dont believe I'm doing the right thing, thats fine, we r all allowed our own opinions - those r my reasons why NA isnt for me...no point trying to argue with me...thats not wat this is about (this morning im just scattered cos i had 2 scoops of P last night, and now fuck-all keeps me up all night! yay for tolerance! )

AGAIN, 12-STEPPERS, IF ANYTHING I SAID IN HERE OFFENDED U, IT WASN'T INTENDED, AND I APOLOGISE (please let me know, mods, if I've crossed the line and need to tone down on rants like the above!)

to get back on track here's the poem I wrote after finishing a diary I'd kept over the year I did the abstinence from alcohol/drugs not scripted to me/abuse of meds scripted to me, as far as I'M concerned:

DEAR MAVERICK
Noble steed, now I'm freed
No longer I'm a slave
To smoking weed or shooting speed
You took me from my grave
My little boy, my pride and joy
You helped me see this through
And now we're one, your job is done
Yes, now I'm here for you!


that was dedicated to my darling horse, PL Maverick...and to all his fans

I'm heading into detox this evening for a few days, after a massive relapse on meth last night (smoked several grams of pure crystal, and once again, totally lost the plot). I've just had some 25x salvia with a friend, as a little goodbye treat before I go away hehe. Anyway, wish me luck!

I've taken a lot of the suggestions from the rooms and okay I somehow got over the obsession and constant cravings. Everything else is still going to hell in my life, the bad things are canceling out anything good that happens. at least it's how things are looking from my point of view which granted is a bit fucked up.
I have an interview with a temp agency and the why not prosper program but i have no fucking way to get to either. No money for a bus pass and they are so far apart walking is out since I was a ass and made them for the same day. I've been trying to tell myself to have faith and things will work out but it's hard sometimes, most times.
I have some much shit going through my fucking head that it feels like my brains are about to leak out of my ears. I'm driving myself nuts over things I have no control over but I don't want to give up on those things. I know I'm powerless but thats the last thing I want to be in life.
I had a lot of dark thoughts lately and getting away from them is damn near impossible.

damn this little habit of mine is getting out of control. not out of control compared to some peoples habits but for me and my life, it is. i still live with my mom and step dad. i'm using everyday and now its been at about 2-3 bags/day.

today i had 2 left. i told myself i would ration them out and slowly taper. i didn't want to get more dope this weekend. i ended up doing both before 3:00 today and went to work. i acquired 3 xan bars for my kick is sure to follow tomorrow.

before i left work i had already set up a meet to pick up another bun after work. so much for stopping right? i figured since i already got the xan i will still use them to kick. then just hold on to the dope again sometime next week once my mind clears up a little bit and i get back on track with my mom.

came home after picking up and tore open another bag. why the fuck can't i ever stick to what i tell myself i will do? why do i set up these bullshit rules if they are never followed? i guess its just my fucked up logic to trick myself into getting deeper into addiction. i also ate 1/4 of my bar and i'm not even kicking yet.

it hit me yesterday how fucked up the whole situation is. i did a bag and smoked 2 blunts of some danks(yesterday) and i started thinking about my use.

how the past few months(of using) have flown the fuck by and i can't recall much of it.
it hit me like a ton of bricks that i've been lying and stealing to everyone that loves me and no body knows what is really going on with me.
my paycheck that i work daily to receive is also nearly gone within days, spent on dope, weed, and shitty newports that are going to kill me probably before this dope habit that i never knew i was starting.

the funny part is that i now have more friends than i ever did and the semester i just finished in college was the best grades i have gotten yet and its my first one using.

i was able to keep my 1 bag a day habit successfully under control without anyone knowing but its becoming more and more noticeable. my mom might know already because she walked into my room and put something on my desk the other day when i had 3 bags sitting right on my computer. i pray to the god that i don't believe in that she doesn't know what a stamp bag looks like.

i'm starting to get paranoid about a lot of shit and am scared how long i'm going to let this lying and cheating go on for. we'll see how tomorrow goes and i'm hoping that i can get it through this weekend with out snorting any more diesel.

I picked up a little bud, and drank a couple beers when I went out. So far, doing pretty good. Everythings gravy.

sober from everything else: 8 days

test

Every time i make a run, you turn around and cry, i ask myself why, oh why....

The smell of the whip when you open the door. camel plush inside a smooth black cherry body...long line build, wide and rides so smooth . the smell of cologne, gucci and armani suits...

Hands on the wheel and business as usual. success and another delivery done, intoxicated by the sharp musk of cash, the crisp reek of fresh bills..it catches somewhere in the chest and makes it feel full. that hunger, the endless, healthy appetite to double and multiply the prize. infinite times.

hearing things that didnt used to be for you before, the world that lies at your fingertips. The sharp dressed businessmen in cars across the parking lot, at the restaurant. Each new step emmbracing you deeper. watch closely, listen careful. pay attention. not just anybody gets chosen.

He didnt know what she had been up to lately. He heard she had been makin moves, movin things. Crazy he thought, she always was, I wonder just how far she is?

And the answer wasnt the thing he might expect, She got two phones, and shes busy. She was a fuckin natural. she climbed that ladder and he couldnt deny he was impressed, the things she had access to. big deals, large amounts, protection, business fronts, laundering, contracts. and he found her not over her head like he imagined...but right up to her chin, diving as deep as she could without choking, she was swimmin in it. gliding thru the liquid gold, sucking it in, breathing it, tasting it, living it feeding on it, gasping it in huge breaths of air, it was lighting her up from the inside, her steps were solid and sure and nothing soft about her.

Counting money, eyes behind the never missing blue shades. she wants it all and she dreams big. the chance to have it is in reach. Work hard, your dreams come true. make your future for yourself. Anything, anything you want in this world can be yours for the right price. You aint gotta be like the rest of em. at night her eyes close to a background of champagne colored satin, she sleeps wrapped in luxury, rolling in silk, traveling high above shoeboxes stacked full of cash into a vision of briefcases full, trunks of cadillacs filled with stacks. limosines and diamonds...... Getting there is the hard part, and dreaming is the fun. When you first start to really move closer and see it start to become real is the best time of all.

She said Im sorry but this is me. I gotta do this. This is how it works, Im on my way to big things. Im gonna be somebody. It will be all right, but i need to take a ride.

meetings, tinted windows, affiliates. rules, codes, eat it up , drink it in, its your movie you make the end, the power is yours. discussions and deals, wiretaps and investigations, warrants, the power....you make your own destiny. Take your own destiny. I want it all, the money, the cars , the clothes, the respect, the power, the fuckin penthouse on the top floor and the dope hole trap house deep in the hood where italian leather soles meet bare peeling linoleum... the world as far as i see, in the palm of my hand. to sit back and see all that I made. I want it, i want it, i want it....

See you got to understand, I can't work a nine to five, So I'll, Be gone til november.....

I fuckin took off this morning, to get my prescriptions located in the next town. Took 3 hours walking. But I got my meds and I'm at the library now. Stole a roll of toilet paper from their restroom while I was at it. DOn't ask me how, but my shoes are still decently dry, they're just a regular pair of free tenners I got at the mission before they made me leave.


So I'm thinking now...saturday it's back to the streets..can't get into a shelter...I could go back to Cleveland and there I'm guaranteed shelter, food. More than I am here. I REALLY don't like the idea of sleeping in abandoned buildings and shit...I'm already a paranoid anxious person. But I'd be walking. yeah. Walking. 53 miles. Over a day. Unless I conned my mom into buying a bus ticket or taking me. Gah. Maybe I'm fucking insane but I have nothing left.

I'm not getting any breaks it seems like every month that comes up has some day that I wish I could curl up and die rather than face it.
I don't want to come off as one of those self pity fools that can't get up and live because of the things that have happened but I feel myself falling into that pattern. I'm trying to just push myself and get the shit done that I need to and focus on helping myself get further in my life. I know I'm going in the right direction now there's just so much pain along the way that most days I want to give up, on myself and life.
One thing I wish for this year is to feel like I belong somewhere and that I'm wanted (not in a sexual way, just that someone wants to be around me..to have me by them).

Am I ashamed to say it? Yes, and no. You lose your sense of pride, shame, and ego, all at once. Your definition of the world is turned upside down and backwards. If you're lucky you only lose everything except your clothing.

"Shelters" don't keep you 'sheltered', they keep you dry, warm if you're lucky, and fed.

I'm definitely not the same person I used to be. I have slept in my car in 14 degree weather, waking up with nearly frostbitten extremities, only because I'm stubborn like my gma and don't want to wake up to the manager of the 24hr laundromat asking why you're here, and telling you to get the fuck out. But a car is a luxury. Mine just died. A car is a portable suitcase, a place to sleep, a safe haven. Now you just have you and what's on your back.

I have been positive, but still downright hopeless at the same time. I swing between the two. The world becomes a cruel, sick place. You are the scum of the earth. No one wants to give you a job, cause you have no address. I refuse to endanger my life in order to have a warm place to sleep. Therefore I have turned down most offers to sleep at a random stranger's house, and even non random strangers, even friends. I was just kicked out of a shelter, cause they were more worried about the "you can't come back for 30 days" rule than making a person sleep in the cold. My friend's house who I could have slept at...well he's a fucking dumbass and has enemies that want to shoot up his house now, so that's out.

Everyone around you is seemingly crazy. You begin to wonder if you'll end up like that in a few months. You learn to control your emotions real fucking fast, learn to be numb, learn to take stress and stuff it deep, or throw it away. If you don't handle your emotions, they WILL get the best of you and you'll end up in a hospital or wandering around delusional and frostbitten. I'd rather have my freedom of my mind and body than that.

Clothing is more important than ever. If you're lucky you become numb to the cold. You MUST become more independent than ever in order to survive. If you don't you end up dead, raped, jumped, or fucked in other numerous ways. I have gone from crying wolf too often, to being hesitant to even ask for help. It's every man for themselves out here. You become paranoid at everyone's motives.

Food? Well you eat whatever you can, even if it's a stale piece of bread with no butter. Don't take it for granted anymore. Food feeds both your body and soull. You learn how to build a fire reaaaalll fuckin fast. You learn how to lie, when asked by a store owner why you're loitering for so long. You learn to lie when asked where you live. You never admit to having money, cause if you have any, you're bound to get mugged or taken advantage of. You sleep when you can. You're running blind and scared. Can you stay positive? Yes, I try to, cause its the only thing I have left. Will it end? Yeah. Eventually. But you're never the same again. You realize how lucky you are. Bitter? Yeah, you get bitter. It's hard not to be. You get hard.

When given the chance to go back to "normal" society, it will be a culture shock. We've seen shit we never bargained for, done things we knew better of, risked everything when we had nothing, lived in places that normal people turn their nose up at, found the true meaning of a being lucky, taken nothing for granted....

I Survived A 3 Gram Mephedrone Binge..and oddly enough I'm still alive!

Today is a good day.

Still Sunday, Janurary 3rd, 2010 and it is 11:55PM here in Brooklyn, NYC, USA.

Back in Brooklyn on 12/10...Deciding what to do with my clusterfuck of a marriage...and now that wonderful subject:

When I left to come here for my HCV (Hepatitis-C) treatment Rizza insisted on being allowed to return to school. She already has a degree in Computer Science, but had of late decided she wanted to study Nursing.

We have a house in Cebu City (Barangay Tisa), and 1 brother-in-law (Nigel) living in it as he finishes his Nursing degree. We discussed ith with Mom, Dad and our eldest auntie (Mom's eldest sister) and wedecided that it would be good for Rizza to do so but that she ought to study there on Mindanao and commute to school in Davao, the largest city on the island (about 240 km south of us). Rizza though was adamanat that she wanted to go to Cebu.

Most Bisaya (Rizza's tribe/ethnicity) are Cebuano, meaning their roots are on Cebu island. Since the late 19th Centiry but especially post-WWII the powers that be have tried to get poor Bisaya to come south and populate the island. Cebuano is the main language on Mindanao for this reason.

In ourcase, Dad was raised on Cebu and only came south when he married Mom who had gone to Cebu for university (after Muslim guerillas attacked her school in Davao). So even more than most Mindanaon Bisaya we have connections to Cebu.

Cebu City itself is much different than anything on Mindanao. For one thing, it has the 2nd largest Red Light District in the country, and for another it is the nation's most crime ridden city. It also has more than its share of sleazy foreigners, etc and so forth.

So we all agreed Rizza could only go, grudgingly, IF Yaya (her childhood nanny accompanied her. The word "Yaya" simply means "Nanny" or "Personal Maid." This Yaya, 1 of 3 we have, is "Yaya No Teeth" as I affectionately call her.

It is difficult to explain but inter-personal relationships in Mindanao are very complicated. In this Yaya's case, her late husband wasn an NPA guerilla commander whom our family killed. We then assumed responsibility for her young children, since they were a local family.

Unlike Moros (Philippine Muslims), Bisaya will not attack anyone but the subject unless involved in a wider family feud.

Yaya No Teeth has been with us now almost 24 years and is as good as they come.

Rizza agreed, but we said we would stilll discuss the rest of the arrangements within the next 2 weeks and I left for America.

I call home about a week later and Mom tells me Rizza and Yaya had left for Cebu on the ferry! Rizza had told her parents that I had said it was OK! I wasn't angry because we did after all say it was going to happen, only that we were going to flesh out the situation. Still, I found it a tad bit out of character.

So Rizza began her Nursing School, and seemed very happy. I began my treatment, and life settled into a reoutine of sorts. Each day,we would IM (Chat) for 3 hours or so, and call as needed.

Then Rizza started IMing less and less. She would come every day, but would be late or leave sooner. Now I have known my wife since she was literally born, and I do know her mannerisms throughly. This is a girl who has here-to-fore insisted we IM for 10 to 14 hours a day and throw tantrums when we could not.

I chalked it up to her new school, etc. Indeed, rationalising it that way I was even pleased that she had finally found her niche. Oh she found her "niche" alright, but I will get to that...

So the IMs began tapering off. Then she began missing days. We have a PC in all our houses so there is no excuse but she explained that it had caught a virus, something that does actually happen a lot when your have young brothers-in-law and Class D porn sites hahahaha.

Then she began IMing only 3 or 4 days a week for 2 or 3 weeks and I knew something was happening. I tried to pin her down, get her to talk about it but she always denied anything had changed.

I was IMing with Mom just about everyday and when I brought up my concerns the best advice she could offer was to simply let Rizza see how it feels by also staying offline. This sounds perfectly logical to most Pinoy (Filipinos) but in my mind it borders on the retarded. Yeah, Rizza is suddenly ignoring me so I should ignore her as well and this will cause her to pay attention??? Hahahah, whatever...

Finally almost 4 months go by, and when we do IM it is dead, nothing of interest. Finally she missed 4 days in a row. I called her, it was 2 AM there, and I hear voices. In our home Yaya and Nigel will always be asleep then, and this was a multitude of voices.

I naturally asked her what is happening. She non-chalantly tells me that the noise is from her "job." By Philippine standards we are wealthy, she has never worked a day in her life. I was shocked. I asked her when she had begun working and she told me it had been a few weeks.

I asked her where the job was but she was evasive. I asked her what her job was and she told me it was a "SariSari" (conveience store) with internet cafe, but only 2 PCs.

Now this is all incredibly bizarre. I asked her WHY she felt she wanted to work. She says she wants to earn her own money. She has always had decent bank accounts, an allowance that is 5 times whatthe average worker makes (in Philippines) but she wanted to experience being fully independant.

Sounds reasonable enough, right? Thing is, in the Philippines the culture is nothing at all like the West. If you talk to 10 girls, 18 years old, 9 will always wish to be married and have children. Most do not know how to handle finances, etc. I have no problem either way, as long as my woman is happy.

My issue though was in making these radical changes without discussing any aspect of it with me. In addition, the incredibly radical shift in personality disturbed me.

I told her that working at 2 AM is not acceptable and that I wanted her to either leave her "job" or switch to daylight hours.

I then immediately called Mom, woke her up, and was nervously telling her about my discovery. I got an even greater shock when she told me she already knew. I angrily asked her why she hadn't told me. She calmly replied that 3 weeks prior Rizza had gotten into a huge argument with Yaya and stormed out of the house! She had not returned since!!!

I was floored, absoloutely floored. In Bisaya Culture you respect elders, even those that work for you. You show the utmost respect. Further more, Yaya had raised Rizza since birth as her personal nanny.

Then, the fact that this had happened almost a month before and I was only now being told! Mom explained that their not telling me mainly due towards their own great embrassment and anxiety but also because of my on-going treatment (stress adversely effects the outcome).

I called Rizza back immediately and I told her I now knew everything. I demanded that she give me the address of both her job and where she was living. All she would say was that she was in Cebu and living with friends. She kept changing the subject but swore that in the morning she would return home and make amends with Yaya. I then bid her goodnight and uneasily waited for the afternoon, to call her.

Welll that was 7 months ago hahahahaha, still don't know where she is living or working.

Since I discovered that the family had kept her leaving from me I suspected that a lot more was going on and being kept from me. Finally Dad told me that a cousin had accidently seen Rizza in Cebu and that she looked pregnant. WOW.

The family wanted to kill her, that is how such things are handled. Me? I just wanted her happy. After all, longtime readers will recall my writing about my realisation(s) that although I was very fond of her, I did NOT love her. Indeed I wondered if I was evencapable of such heartfelt emotions.

At the present she and I communicate via offline IMs a couple of times a week.

Sad that its ending, but one door closes so that another may open. Indeed, it has not taken long for one TO open though I am not sure how much of THAT I wish to touch upon given the fact that Rizza and other family members may still be reading my online posting(s) (she mentions shit now and again).


On 12/16 I left NYC for Israel, a direct hop from JFK to Ben Gurion. I visited with a new grandson (2nd grandkid),visited with all 3 of my kids there. My daughter is still serving and may stay on as a pro, she is now training as an Instructor at Mikan Adam (IDF Sniper School) but is getting married to a Samal (my rank was Rav Samal which is a Sr Captain but basically equal to a US Major, Samal is Captain). I met the boy and his parents. I set the dowry.

Westerners either do not know what a dowry is or at best almost always misunderstand the concept. They equivocate it with a "Brideprice," as if we sel females.

The idea is that females leave their families when married, and join the family of their husbands. In doing this the girl's family loses another pair of bhands, someone whose product (work) will no longer benefit her own family but now her husband's family. The dowry offsets this loss.

Males stay with their own families so no reciprocating practice is required. Interestingly though, many Ashkenazi Jews (Jews whose recent roots are in Europe) provide their sons-in-law with a source of income which is counter-intuitive, but advantageous none-the-less.

For example, an Ashkenazi father will offer a prospective son-in-law a job, or full income for 2 or 3 years so that he may pursue higher education, etc.

I settled my daughter's dowry, held a "Kiddushin," a Betrothal Party, and my eldest son and I headed to Hong Kong to transfer for a flight intp Brunei.

* Note to self: Do not wear flip flops in the winter anymore *


I went out for a smoke in my summer flip flops (complete flat bottom with no grip) damn things are like strapping sheets of ice to the bottom of my feet.


I just did a backflip down about 14 cement steps out front my place hit my hip 4x or so I lost count on the way down them so hard I puked instantly and got cold sweats. (I managed to save my smoke by breaking the fall with my body...).

Just thought id share this useless bit of information with someone.

Next time I think I'll take the 2 minutes to tie my shoes.

(I live in the north there is about 6 feet of snow here)

I am loving life right now I love temazepam I think it should be mandatory for everyone to dose at least once a week. I feel all the xmass / new years holiday stress melllllllllllting away in an orgasmic fashion. (I have a legal prescription for these badboys) check out my post for more info http://www.bluelight.ru/vb/showthread.php?t=481542

Muy Bueno.

yum yum

Every night through Bluelight I sent invisible hugs out all over the world. I embrace those people who would go by me in the street and not even know who I am.

I think I might need invisible hugs now. I am visibly unhappy.

I think I am going to leave here for awhile, as right now in my journey this place has too many triggering things and so I think it would be better to take time off.

I have created a journal if anyone wishes to keep in contact, follow my journey, or if you are facing anxiety and depression and want to follow a journey in which is needed.

http://ajourneyupnorth.livejournal.com/

The journal is my own personal journey, no triggering words, no personal letters, no enteries geared towards anyone except myself.

You are all welcome to follow my journey through anxiety and depression re-assessment and treatment. Comments are assessed before posting to prevent trolling and triggering words and anything that is mean and/or vicious or just a comment unrelated to the post.

I might come back here once in awhile, I dunno yet, we'll see.

I wish you all a happy new year, some of you happy recoveries, and some I hope you yourself take the time to realize that drugs are not the answer and start your journey to recovery.

Best Wishes to all.

Another poster made by yours truly.

To think, this is the amount of money I used to spend on meth every single day!

*facepalm*

Lost count,
Anyways I got into it today with someone that said I was smoking meth with one of my buddies. So I confronted him and he got all defensive about it, I took my shirt off and threw a chair. Wasn't the best way to handle the situation. I was pissed from shit that happened earlier (shity vist from mom) and this shit was just icing on the cake. My counselor broke us up, and I told him what was on my mind. I asked to be drug tested, mostly to erase that shit from my mind of someone saying that I was on *meth*. They drug tested the guy that was spreading shit, and he tested positive for Amphetamines so BITCH FUCK SERVES U FUCKING RIGHT U SHIT FUCK! Shit I hate fucking stupid people.
Anyways my roomate and I got into it earlier. Most people can relate if you've been in treatment. Your given a chore right? Well my chore is to wash dish's after every meal. Like pots so big that I could sit in and take a bath. Anyways my *roomate was given the job of *Keyman, someone that goes around checking if any paper towel dispensers need paper towels, toilet paper, soap, rags, etc. This motherfucker came bothered me washing dishs (When I'm washing dishs I DO NOT LIKE TO BE BOTHERED, Its like bad karma to fuck with me) He had the nerve to pull my ear plugs/headphones out and ask for my key, so I told him fuck no I'm not giving you my key, your the keyman, wheres your master key? He told me some shit how he had to turn his keys in, well I knew he was full of shit because I asked his boss and he has no idea what the fuck that he's talking about. So this ill literate mother fucker lied not once but twice to me in the past 2 days.
I don't want to show that I'm a bitch, and don't play games.
Hopefully that tomorrow will be better than today.
-drew

Man, I want to be that 'good' dude. I truly care about people but it seems that I am a hypocrite. I only care about the good people.

The others, I wish harsh things to happen to them. I find myself having issues with anger and rage. I HATE it. There are some shady people in the rooms that I hang in and I judge them. I judge them hard because they take advantage of people (or attempt to) in order to satisfy their lust, greed and egos. They don't care if it is harming those that are just trying to get well in a so-called safe atmosphere of recovery.

I look around these rooms and I see very few females that are considered 'newcomers' (those new to the 12 step thing trying to get another day clean). I sense that its because of all the dudes in 'recovery' (with clean time) are always waggin' their dicks in the newcomers faces. They see these women as fresh, vulnerable pieces of ass.

How can I say this?

These dudes NEVER approach the females that have clean time in an attempt to get some ass. They know better, so... they pursue the new girl. The girl that doesn't know what to expect walking into a meeting for the first time. They choose the new girl who just walked in for the sole purpose of getting clean.

I'm guilty as well. I used to justify it by saying 'Well, we have the same amount of clean time' or 'She approached me'.

Us dudes are predators.

Fuck I don't know why it bothers me so much. I would know if I was willing to take a deeper look at myself but for some reason I'd rather just sit here with hatred, anger and judgment.

I guess I really don't want to know who I truly am. I'm afraid of seeing all the ugly inside me. Perhaps when I look at these dudes I see my ugliness in them and thats why I hate them.

I am finding that I still hate myself in a very serious way.

Just some more shit to add to the list labeled 'Slow Process, Patience Required'.

This - The fact that people seem to be getting dumber and dumber. You know, I mean we have all this amazing technology and yet computers have turned into basically four figure wank machines. The internet was supposed to set us free, democratize us, but all it’s really given us is Howard Dean’s aborted candidacy and 24 hour a day access to kiddie porn. People…they don’t write anymore - they blog. Instead of talking, they text, no punctuation, no grammar: LOL this and LMFAO that. You know, it just seems to me it’s just a bunch of stupid people pseudo-communicating with a bunch of other stupid people at a proto-language that resembles more what cavemen used to speak than the King’s English...

I read that like 30 times trying to decide if it makes sense..I think it does, but is it also true?

getting reffered to the Cognative Therapy... butthat other one that was mentioned in my blog here, they don't provide but cognative therapy plus a psychiatrist and re-assessment and all that.

Kinda excited and can't wait.

Also some worry has been lifted. Thanks to a wonderful woman

My and support sent to a wonderful man.

If Im not online for a week or so, its cause im seeking help, im still alive.

I will try and come on as often as i can.

plus wifi sucks ass. *laughs*