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I just spent a month at a state psychiatric hospital for flipping the fuck out in public.

my asshole husband called from Iraq telling me we're getting divorced, I flipped out, fought with cops, landed my ass in the psych ward, where I fought with the nurses, took all nurses and 4 security guards to hog tie me and give me 4 shots of thorazine to get me in lockup. then was court ordered there. got out thursday, took so long cuz I was refusing meds (im bipolar apparently, and love being manic!!!) and I was fighting. now im court ordered followup care and to take meds, otherwise I get arrested and go right back in the hospital.

I am filing for divorce, already moved into a 2 bedroom house in the country with my boyfriend I met at the psych ward. I love him, he's a retired UFC fighter, and breeds and trains dogs and horses for a living. he makes money! (love em anyways, just a nice bonus)

lost custody of kids, will fight for that too once im mentally stable enough.

ill be back on more once I get a computer here.

whew, shit, that's all for now I guess.
love you and miss all u!!
These last 3 days have been fun but disappointing. Although the meth has been doing great for appetite control, I'm not really getting high anymore. I stay in my room more, deliberatly avoiding my Mom. It's not that I don't like her, but the 2nd she see's me she starts in on all these questions. Plus being as hot as it is, I don't get A/C in my room unless the door is open, I keep the fan on, wet a see thru lacy camisole, wear thong panites and keep the fan on high with the window open. I'm not about to walk around like that in front of Mom. So this evening she got on my case about locking my door, accusing me of doing drugs. Fuck me man, a woman my age should be able to lock her fucking door if she wants to! And drugs are NOT the only reason for locking the damn door, JESUS! So instead of arguing with her, I unlocked it but was pissed. "Fine, whatever," I said. "You're acting like you used to when you were on drugs. Something is wrong," she said. "You don't have to get angry!" Yeah, whatever. Fucksake. Sorry but I should be able to lock the door whether I'm doing drugs or not. Why doesn't she GET that?

I no longer hardly have a sex drive anymore. I simply couldn't go through with hooking up with any guys on the sex site. The thing is that I could, as I explained on my profile, that a man must turn my mind on first, otherwise, I can't respond. Sure as shit, kind of what I expected, there's plenty of guys available, but it's like they want to jump into bed ASAP. I can't. Last Wednesday, my connect called me and I was kind of wondering why, but then he hinted around that he didn't have a ride to work. Grumble, grumble. His work was in bum fuck Egypt too, but I said, fine I'll help you out, but I need gas money. I'm glad I did. My window in the car fell down, a piece broke, so he fixed the window so that it would stay up, although the door panel is off. It looks like shit, but it's better than having the window stuck down all the time. My habit is now a teenager a week still. Fuck I can't AFFORD this with my damned wages being fucking garnished by the state!

Also, it's true that I didn't want to deal with life's bullshit sober, like getting on the phone and dicking around with incompetent employees over wrong bills, or dealing with the state, but on shit, I have NO tolerance for doing any of that shit whatsoever. I want as little responsibility in life as possible, and sometimes it throws shit at me that I don't even deal with, which gets me in trouble. Sigh. I've got to try calling the state again. Their line is always busy. I'm bummed too having to face kicking sooner or later... God how I HATE it. I've got the supplements, but damn I still feel fucking tired all the time. At least on my maintainance dose of meth, work isn't torture. It helps having my painkillers too. For some reason, the last 3 wks the pharmacy has been putting the date the filled my Rx as a week prior than they actually filled it. Well the problem with that is that I always check the date, and had the date been correct, I would have been able to utilize discipline to make the damn things last 10-14 days instead of 7.

So the last 3 wks, I thought damn 2 wks sure went by fast, then when I picked up my last Rx, there was no refills like usual. So, poking around to find out why, duh, there it is. Son of a bitch, I'm lucky they kept authorizing the refills to begin with, cause most Docs won't. I don't feel quiete right. I can't get high enough from meth and the pills are not giving me the high I want, so I'm stuck. Erik was supposed to send me some needles about a month ago, maybe 5-6 wks, but he never did, so I'm having to reuse dull needles which sucks. I could order from on line pharmacy, but am nervous about Mom finding out what's inside the box, fuck. These fine point, short needles don't quite cut it with me, either, so fuck maybe I'll have to drive to bum fuck LA to get the goddamned things.
So I have been having a very shitty week at work, my boss actually resigned weeks ago and didnt tell anyone and pretended to be just going on holiday but left permanently. What a sneaky cow, I thought of her a a mate. :( Another chick did the same thing except just never showed up again after having her shifts changed. We all feel like chumps at work- too much to do, too little staff.

Im going to get crapped on today when I go in as I wrote a letter to the night supervisor who was bullying my friend Wendy to the point of her being in tears yesterday. He and my old boss have had a constant campaign against her as she does do some silly things but in this instance she had done nothing wrong. I asked him if he was going to apologise to her as the summary of events makes him the bad guy. People dont like being the arsehole, I think he will just end up hating me now instead of realising what a dick he was.

I put my laundry on 2 days ago and forgot/ too tired to hang it out.

I came home and went to bed immediately yesterday as I was feeling shithouse.

My flatmate Declan washed and dried the whole lot for me and folded it.

THANKYOU THANKYOU THANKYOU <3<3

iT FEELS GOOD TO HAVE SOMEONE DO SOMETHING NICE FOR ME. <3
A - Age: [28]

B - Bed size: [King]

C - Chore you hate: [Dishes! I HATE doing dishes and laundry]

D - Dog's name: [No dog- though I want one- but for now 2 kitties are enough]

E - Essential start your day item: [Coffee!!]

F - Favorite color: [Blue and green, too hard to choose]

G - Gold or Silver: [Silver]

H - Height: [5'8"]

I - Instruments you play(ed): [none:(]
J - Job title: [none]

K - Kids: [My girls, Fuzzy Buttons and Little Bitty]

L - Living arrangement: [Awesome house on over an acre]

M - Mom's name: [Who wants to know?]

N - Nicknames: [depends on who but mostly Dez, though I am erked when someone who I am not close to calls me that or any other nickname]

O - Overnight hospital stay other than birth: [No]

P - Pet Peeve: [Fake people, fake friendships,political and religious nuts-OH! AND people who say they want to just discuss one of those subjects and then argues with you instead of hearing a view other than their own.]

Q - Quote from a movie The Simpsons : [I am an asshole and don't really like the Simpsons ]

R - Right or left handed:


S - Siblings: [One brother]

T - Time you wake up: [depends on what time I went to sleep-]

U - Underwear: [Yep]

V - Vegetable you dislike: [depends on how it is cooked or served......i like most veggies]

W - Ways you run late: [Going with my hubby- he is always late:)]

X - X-rays you've had: [Just about everywhere]

Y - Yummy food you make: [rouladen, guiness stew]

Z - Zoo favorite: [bears]​
I was preparing myself to finally accept that 'M' and I were done. I thought I was beginning to accept it.

After talking recently, I find that I've pushed my hardness away. Fuck that phony shell that really never protected me from anything.

Man, love is a good thing right? I know that I'll always love this woman. I'm kind of a coward but brave at the same time. I'm a coward because I fear that I'll feel pain if we don't get back together. I'm brave because I'm risking repeating the pain of having my dream of being a family with her and her kids smashed into shards of glass. Its not the smashing that is terrifying. Its the piercing of the heart and emotions that these shards will most likely do.

I'm doing the right thing for the right reason so perhaps the pain will be lessened if things don't turn out as I am hoping for.

I need to get well first.
My typical Method of Operation is to go to work, get paid, go to the city, score, get high, repeat.

The last time I injected was on Sunday August 2nd. I have worked three days and STILL have most of the loot from those days. I didn't go to the city and cop.

Its kinda cool havin' money in your pocket. Every dollar I had before (for a long time) went to drugs. I treated everyone at work to Starbucks (when I say 'everyone' I mean only the two others I work with), I bought a co-worker some 21st Bday shots, and the best thing so far about having a little loot on me is, get this... ...I ate THREE fuckin' ice cream cones tonight!!!! Dude, ice cream cones are a fuckin' luxury to a fuckin' addict. We NEVER buy shit like that. Haha! Day 3 of not shootin' coke/heroin. ---Check out this next part---

My mom's been gettin real worried about me. She says I don't look good (I lost a lot of weight). So she called the place that I'm trying to get to get me into rehab since I can't afford it and my insurance doesn't cover it.

They apologized to her because apparently the instructions they had given me previously were as follows:
1-Go to Social Security and apply for medical assistance for Drug and Alcohol treatment.
2-Wait for a rejection letter
3-Take the rejection letter to this company that places addicts in rehab
4-Get into rehab

What the ACTUAL process is:
1-Go to Social Security Office
2-REQUEST a rejection letter
3-Receive the rejection letter right there
4 Take the rejection letter to this company that places addicts in rehab
5-Get into rehab THE NEXT DAY

I'm skeptical about this. There's no fuckin' way it is that smooth and fast. I'll find out tomorrow. I'm going to Social Security early tomorrow morning and following the 2nd set of instructions. If it is that easy then I may be in rehab on Friday (2 fuckin' days from now)

We'll see.

Oh yeah... ...did I mention I ate THREE ice cream cones tonight? %)%)%)%)
Current Habit- 50-75mg of Hydromorphone/day

Spent on Habit this week- $250

Spent on Habit last week- $200
Rhythmic, Poetic, In touch with your soul
Entwined with the people
In line with your goal
It fires you up, offends your ears
Enrages your heart, give you tears
In touch with God through
The hatred and fears
Of man and men who don't know you
Or who or why they chose to screw
Over their friends or the guy who cut them off
Not the cult of those whose feed from the trough
Rapping about the drugs in my veins
The spirit in my spirit
How bad this is
We don't wanna hear it
Feed us your pain but make sure you enjoy it
Every moment that makes you destroy it
The center of your heart
That makes you say "no"
To every bitch trick and ho
I ain't no pimp
And I ain't no bitch
But here's a trick
The talentless rich
Drag you soullessly
Hole-less-ly
It's a business to them
NOT about the beat
But about the bucks
They don't know heat!
Just beating a program
And saying random shit, man
Give your God praise
And give your art malaise!
Again, I talking to myself because there is no one else.

People rarely understand that all I want is someone who as been where I am, and listen and offer understanding comments and what not. Not tells me how to fix it.

Strangely, coming off meth, I've started to binge. I don't know that it is that I'm so broke during the day I can't afford to eat when I'm not home so I binge when I get home or what. I guess there is a away to deal with it if I have to...
And here I thought about going and starving myself because I don't deserve the food...
Or maybe it's beause my life is so out of control I'm looking for something to give me control. OD I've been washing my hands a lot lately.
Jeez being a psych major is like being a Ph.D. student. Go figure, not like it matters.

Sean and I are on another break. He is so depressed so his situation, that he can't deal with me. I'm afraid that we may not even make it. God knows, he said I couldn't be alone and I'd get over it. Oh I'd be alone. Hell, my rock, my help, cannot help me when he is depressed himself. There is no where to go to have a shoulder to cry on.

Thank goodness for Seroquel that I can even say that. But that, the kpins the Lamictal right now. Oh meth would take it away, at least for a bit. But there is no getting it and its only short term. I'm off because I have to be. Broke, and thereare some things I just can't break myself down to do. Some days I think who cares how big of a hole I dig in, no one will even notice. I might as well not exist....


I wonder if the things I did were just to be different
To spare myself of the constant shame of my existence

Everyone's pointing their fingers
Always condemning me
And nobody knows what I believe

No real reason to accept the way things have changed
Staring down the barrel of a 45
Didn't get high yesterday (with the exception of weed, cuervo and beer). Didn't get high today (with the exception of beer).

So now the insomnia begins. I take a shitload of otc sleep aids (I forget the active ingredient, diptha-something). That shit doesn't work very well and the next day I'm all de-energized to the point of walking being to active.

I saw 'M' again tonight. I miss her being in my life but I'm afraid I may have fucked my brain up a little too much. I guess only time will tell. I find myself incapable of doing simple, daily routines. Sleep is all I want. I don't have to think when I'm sleeping. The days go by much easier if you sleep them away.

I wish I was better looking. Its petty, but 'M' should be with one of those good lookin guys. I say this because the dude she slept with recently is apparently 'physically attractive'. I mentioned before that I would like to be someone's 'ideal'. I'm still not sure if I will ever be hers.

I find myself gravitating towards violence. I think I want to hurt someone simply because I hurt. I can't wait for someone to fuck with me but they seem to never want to. I can simply just wait for it.

I dunno. I want to sleep but can't. I guess I need to pound some beers in order to achieve this simple goal.

There will probably be a few blogs from me in the future that may not make sense. The emotions always bum rush me when I stop getting high. Ill need to use these blogs to help deal with them.

WTF!?!? I got a fuckin' tear comin from my eye. I'm not thinking or writing anything sad so what gives? This is gonna be hard. Fuck me! Everytime with this bullshit? I don't get it.

Do I take the chance and pursue 'M'? She says there is hope for us but we both need to do a lot of work on ourselves. She's worth it but will I ever be her ideal?

I'm a garbage head. Will I ever stop ingesting whatever I get my hands on? I think so. But when I become the 'true me' I'm hoping that 'me' is a good person.

I want sleep
That's right! You've spoken, and our new topic of the month for August is 'Philosophy and Spirituality'. So, same deal as last time: this is only a suggested topic of course, and you have full freedom as to how you'd like to interpret it.

Enjoy!
7:47 AM
213
118
82

169
105
116

7:57 (After a short walk to the bathroom.)
208
120
106

149
118
115


8:08 (Predose)
139
101
80

164
113
125


(Post Dose)
154
120
71

115
89
78

158
105
106

168
127
87

122 (Standing)
91
146

8:16 (Second Bump)
173
107
114

150
102
119

132
102
126

159
127
60


133
80
110

124
82
97

119
91
117
i have arrived in athens, sup b/l






now 'm gonna go searching for some sweet sweet orthodox greek girls to come have intravenous unprotected sex with me in their geo metros
..on august 1st. if you need me, i'll be here (at point A) 8o 8o 8o

YEP.

I always come in here and stare at my keyboard and think should I write something different to what's on my mind or should I put down my actual thoughts?

It's a conundrum it is.

Still I find this a great place to empty the filter up there but oftentimes my subconscious gets together with conscious and has a party when I'm not around and their scattered hangover ends up as my dreams

More and more as of late, I wake up thinking what the fuck was that? Where the fuck was I? What the fuck just happened? How did that happen?

About a week ago, I had a dream and in the dream I was involved in a scuffle where I was held in a headlock.
When I woke up I had a sore throat and when I was brushing my teeth I noticed red marks around my neck, WTF, seriously.

Another time, I recall dreaming my foot got on something and I woke up with a pain in my foot.

I've woken up sad, happy etc it goes on.

I won'y go into detail about the other nights adventures but it's becoming odd to say the least.


Anyway, had a great weekend.

Spent friday night at home inside watching movies and had a fire going.

Saturday I bought myself a new laptop and spent a few hours at the gym and pool.

Saturday night I went and saw a mates band play and dropped a couple of biccies for the first time in months and the party carried on a at a friends house on acreage, the band played on and we set up a bonfire and i had a few more pingers, I left just after lunchtime the following day covered in black coal stains on my feet and ash from the fire and smelling of smoke.

Great company and good times all round.
Still a little sore but it's all good times. Went to work Monday but took today off and taking tomorrow off, id booked these days off a while back to get shit done and its been real.


anyway im off for now.
For those of you who feel like reading a long post-- this is pretty much like a first-time-trip-report for pot.

With all the free time and boredom I have... I figured I'd chronicle my new found drug use on this site. So that's what this blog is going to be about, I think. Hopefully this will be the start of something I can reflect upon later in life to help me. That said, here I go:

I'll start by saying my 'drug life' before now has been nonexistent. I've consumed alcohol casually, and didn't think much of it, but before a few weeks ago, I had never tried any drug (aside from alcohol). I'm 18 years old and looking for something more. :)

The first time I tried pot, a few weeks ago, is hardly notable; I didn't get much of a high at all, which is common for the first time, I guess. I smoked a joint with a friend, and nothing much happened. So I'll skip over that story, and write about my second time, which was -a lot- better.


It all started last Wednesday, when I invited my friend over to smoke and drink for the night. I wanted to have some fun before I moved away to SF... so what better than to attempt getting stoned again, and get drunk off my ass afterward. I gave her a call up the night before, and we planned to meet around 2 pm.

Shortly after meeting up and chatting for a bit, we went to starbucks to get a drink, to which I added a shot of coffee, if it's any concern... I don't think coffee affects the high much.

So we went out into the woods near my home, whipped out my newly bought pipe, packed a bowl, and began to light up. This being my first time using a pipe, I had her light it up for me a few times before I could get the hang of it... shortly after, I was taking nice big hits of it through the pipe.

I might add, that the woods near my home were not a good place to smoke. That was a stupid decision on my part. Not only was there a lot of think dry brush where we decided to stop, but I got tons of -- and I mean tons -- of those prickly pods from the dry weeds all over my pants, leg hair, and shoes. If we weren't careful (which we were), we could have also started a brush fire.

So, like my first time, the weed tasted TERRIBLE to me. I'm already over it, but those first few times smoking, it almost made me gag. My friend got impatient with me because I had to take long breaks between each drag.

Shortly after smoking through the first bowl (smoked two bowls total) I started to feel a little different, maybe things seemed brighter, I couldn't tell, but once we finished the second bowl, I started to get a little paranoid. The last hit I took, I got confused when I thought I was lighting it, but just had the gas down on the lighter. I didn't realize at the time, but I think the mj was making me paranoid that I inhaled too much lighter fluid. I started to feel a warm tingly feeling going through my chest, and it freaked me out for a minute, but it went away once I realized I was playing tricks on myself. :p

As we were walking back out of the forest, and talking to each other, I noticed I was spacing out a lot. And I thought that was as high as I would get. We started smoking around 3:45, and this was probably around 4:15, so I figured 30 mins for it to kick in completely was enough. I thought this is pretty fun, but not really as good as I expected, as we continued to walk and talk. So I was pretty much just laughing, and spacing out, as far as I knew.

When we got home (probably around 4:30), I hadn't noticed much of a difference from how high I was earlier... I sat down in my living room, while my friend, still chatting with me, went to fix her makeup in the bathroom. She would be talking, and falling over in the bathroom, and I would be laughing at something. We did this for what felt like 5 or 10 mins (which was probably only about 1 min)... and I didn't notice it, but I was having a mild hallucination. Everything around me, the entire house, carpet, world -everything- had disappeared, except for my friend, the light fixture above her head (which I couldn't physically see), the bathroom, and the spot I was sitting at, trying to pick out all the seeds on my legs and feet. I had no idea, but everything around me was lost, and the things that hadn't disappeared were in a night-like, dark realm. I was kind of in a 'dream state', though; so, when I realized I was kind of hallucinating, I would snap out of it, and the room/world would be back. All of my memories of the seconds and minutes before were like looking back on a dream you just had shortly after waking. After that first time of snapping out of my delirium (if it's even worthy of being called 'delirium'; this is just pot, remember), I realized, wow, I'm really fucking stoned right now.

Each time I would snap out of this 'dream state', I would be back to reality for just like 5 seconds or so. It was really weird... and fun. My time perception would also get fucked up because of this sleep-like thing. I went out into the living room at one point to pick more seeds out of my shoes, and when I came back into the kitchen, and looked at the clock, I said, "Holy shit! It's been two fucking minutes!!"

I also was doing all sorts of nonsensical things. For instance, I went outside to wash off my pipe with the hose (only god knows why), and I ended up spraying myself, and as soon as I walked back inside, I could hardly remember doing it. I would take out my phone, text my friend, then instantly forget I just texted him/her. And sometime in my stupidity, my friend showed hers: she tried to get soap out of the soap dispenser at the sink, and surprised the hell out of herself when she realized that laundry detergent wasn't supposed to come out of it, but hand soap.

I spent the rest of the time until around 6:00 pm trying to explain to my friend how stoned I was. Each time I would try to explain it, I would say something like, "This is like a dream." Or, "I'm think I'm more stoned than you." And each time I snapped out of the 'dream state', I'd say one of those lines, and continue trying to explain it to her, while I drifted back into my delirium and became incoherent. According to her, I pretty much just kept repeating those lines for an hour.

I was still stoned when I started drinking, so I became cross faded. All I remember about that is not liking it as much as just being stoned. After 6:30, the rest of the night turns into a drunken haze. And tu'duh! I wake up in the morning with a bump on my head.

I've decided I don't like alcohol that much, won't spend a lot of money on booze, and that I like pot, and will continue to chronicle my drug use. :)


...oh ya, and somewhere in there, a jar of cookies was eaten, but I didn't notice I was eating them.



-ps. I apologize for my writing, while I'm sure you've seen worse, even I found it a little difficult to read. :| I'm really bad at describing things sometimes.
I love how I'm sitting here rolling around in my own mind in the absolute most intense euphoric ecstasy I have ever felt and the phone rings and I get up completely normal and answer it like nothing. And when I get off the phone I come back outside, put my earphones in and return to oblivion.


Meph IS god.
Well, it looks like after the first round of voting, Sub-Forum has won (having barely edged out porcupines and porpoises :p). So now we get to choose which Sub-Forum will be the theme. My thought here would be to keep this within the Community forums, as it would be hard to write an entry on European and African Drug Discussion for example, as well as to keep the number of choices low enough to keep from diluting the vote. And since the lounge is already a free-for-all, perhaps we'll sit it out as a choice for this round. Except as a write-in I guess.

So, the choices for this month now are:

  • Healthy Living
  • Current Events and Politics
  • Sex, Love and Relationships
  • Philosophy and Spirituality
  • Education and Careers
  • Legal Discussion
  • Second Opinion
  • Science and Technology

Since we're already a couple of days into August, let's hurry this up. Voting will be open until this time tomorrow (so let's say midnight Tuesday morning, GMT-7). Aaaaaaaand... vote!
This may not make sense if you read this before part 1. Although none if it my make any sense anyway. I'm really not a very good writer, but what the hell.

On Nov 3rd 1988 Margo and myself (Frank) married. We we're madly in love, and the first 7-8 years of our lives together we're a dream.

As you read in part 1 our lives were a challenge for the next 7-8 years to say the least. So many things happened during that period I only mentioned a few of the bigger things. Not even going into the financial part or many, many others. After all this is a blog not a novel. The main issue being my wives illness. Many times I thought during that period that wish my wife had cancer or some other more well known disease, rather then not really knowing for sure what she had or what the prognosis would be. It always worried me that the doctors weren't doing the right thing as they didn't know what she had in the first place. Although at Leyhe clinic outside of Boston in late 03 set her up on a regiment of IV treatments that did seem to slow down the disease for a while. But still the bottom line was her Immune system was attacking and killing her. Plus with numerous other health problems, COPD in her lungs, a bad heart valve to name a few.

By the time June 3rd 2003 came along I was using pain killers everyday. Taking Methadone, and snorting whatever else that was snort-able. Later in the year of 2003 Dilaudid was around and snorting that worked barely enough in keeping me going until this year. I was running on fumes after June of 03. Then on the other hand it was probably running me down even more. But their is no way I could have gone through quitting while trying to deal with that at the same time. We had almost zero support then. I was also trying to hold down a good job that is 48 miles each way. needing to keep that insurance going.

It was at that point when I started to plan on how and when to quit the opiates. My wife knew I was taking some of it, but I handled all her drugs by June of 03. So she really had no clue.
How was I able to take all I did without my wife going without? Filling the scripts on day 24-25 of a 30 day supple, and with my wife in and out of the hospital as much as she was, it was quite easy.
So when and how to quit. The when was an easy choice, when the drugs ran out. Since June of 03 I realize now I started subconsciously to prepare myself for grieving. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that my soul mate was not going to grow old with me, and their was nothing me or anyone could do to change it. We could only make everyday we had together as good as we could. I truly learned what it means not to take anything for granted. Just the simple act of holding hands, scratching each others backs, or even just talk to each other.
nigga gonna get spunned and have some fun
things are seeming to calm down as of late, at least for now and im enjoying every minute of it. the mother and i have come to some sort of understanding. like a mutual appreciation for one another. she was with this guy for quite some time but she broke things off with him on account of him getting on her nerves. he still tried to pursue a relationship with her but she would only call him when something at the house was broken. it was sad because i thought this guy was a really great guy and i could see he really loved my mother. but my mother would use him then avoid his calls or run to the bathroom when he randomly showed up. she even told him that if he decided to date other people she wouldnt care.
one day she rode over to his house to retrieve something of hers and she found him leaving with some woman on the back of his bike. she was shattered and couldnt believe it. at first i wanted to say, "well you asked for this" but didnt have the heart at the sight of my mom's tears, so i sat and listened to her for hours. what surprised me was her willingness to admit her faults. she's not one to down herself even when all evidence proves she was in the wrong, but this time she was actually saying how selfish she was and how she brought this upon herself. she even went as far as to say that she deserved what had just happened.
i listened to her all that night and was worried because i had never seen her so distraught over her own personal choices. and that can be worse than having someone else do something to you. i respected her for that and told her so. the next morning she was still upset and called in to work so we sat at the kitchen table drinking coffee and talking until noon. she finally called him and found out that the woman was a friend's girlfriend who was actually about 60 years old. the whole thing was just a misunderstanding. haha she felt so stupid, she came and hugged me and said she appreciated everything i had done and for listening so intently.
that night we had my sisters and their men come over for a cook out. we all drank and had some really good times. during which my mother took me aside and drunkenly explained how much she needed what i had done for her and that i kept her sane in a moment where she could have easily lost it. then she went on to say how she respected me as a person and that i deserve to have someone in my life. that she believes i dont love for convenience and whoever i choose will be an amazing person. i cant even begin to describe how much that meant to me.
it felt good to be there for her, to be a friend to the woman who gave birth to me. to build a bridge over the rocky waters that were between us. it may not be all over, but it's a step in the right direction.
I saw 'M' tonight. She called because she didn't like how we ended. We met outside an ice cream place and talked. It was confusing because I think she thinks she made a mistake. I can't be positive about that but it really doesn't matter. Its been proven that we don't have what it takes to stay together.

I guess the lesson that keeps being thrown in my face is acceptance. I need to accept that decisions have already been made earlier. I need to accept that the actions that came after those decisions have dug a chasm between us. I need to accept that I'm not the one for her.

This breakup has impacted me. I have changed from it. I don't like it one bit.

I hate this.
I've never done a journal or a blog, but I think it might help me to try to do one.
To start with I'm a 43 year old man trying to just make it through each day. It is starting to get a tad easier, why?? Not sure yet, I think that's one reason I'm writing this blog. Maybe I'll find something out in here. Goddess only knows why I didn't kill myself this spring. Well I can't say that, I know I was only living for one reason at that point, my son. He couldn't handle losing 2 parents one after the other. I just couldn't do that to him.

On February 27th of this year my wife Margo of over 20 years died, and so did I. She had been sick for over 10 years, really seriously from late 2002 on. On June 3rd 2003 she died in my arms. She wasn't breathing, had turned blue, and I couldn't feel a pulse. I freaked out and started to shake the fuck out of her screaming in her face to come the fuck back. Don't ask me who or why but she stared to breath and make noises. So began a 2 month stay in the hospital and the beginning of the end
Even at that point we should have been happy with any extra time we had together. In 2000 a bunch of specialist from the Boston area hospitals had given Margo about a year to live. They said she had some weird auto immune disease, which was secondary to some still unknown cause. Ya great thanks for all your help.. jeez....
In the late 1990's that was about the time I threw away about 15 years of sobriety, taking the occasional pain killer or two or three. I couldn't keep up with Margo's habit, after all they we're her pills right. But fuck man she was taking ungodly amounts of pain killers. So many of them the our insurance wouldn't pay for a lot of them (too early). I didn't know much of this, I just keep finding money missing from my wallet all the time. At some point there she stole a prescription pad from a doctor and started writing her own oxy scripts. After I don't know how many she wrote, the pharmacist being really, really cool about it handed back the script and said"you better take this back and have it checked theirs something wrong with it" then gave her the don't do it again look. Drugs change you and make you do and act in ways you would never do other wise. Before my wife got sick she worked at a hospital as an operating room tech and as a assistant for a anesthesiologist. She would never had thought of stealing or writing her own prescriptions.

In the mid and late 90's even before the medical stuff with my wife, we found out both my son and my wife had an eye disease called retinal cone dystrophy. It's a degenerative eye disease that will take most of their vision. Fucking yahoo!! My wife had lost her drivers license already at that point, they said our son would never drive. His eye sight seemed at that point to be almost as bad as Margo's. Plus after Margo losing her mom, step dad, brother then best friend. Things we're just totally sucking for us.
It doesn't matter how good of a relationship you have with your mate, when things are really bad, it in time can eat into resolve and even your love. We separated two times during that time, losing the best thing we had going. We didn't stop communicating because of our son, and in time we finally got past blaming each other for letting things get in between of us, and get in our way.
The years 1995-2003 seemed so hard for us then, we didn't have any idea just how hard things could get.
Thank you for reading.:)

IF ANYONE EVER READS THIS, PLEASE NEVER TAKE WHAT YOU HAVE FOR GRANTED. THIS IS ONLY A FLEETING MOMENT THAT WE HAVE HERE.
Hopefully, a lot better to me. Or at least what I've went through.

In the middle of January, I contracted an osteomyelitis. A bone infection in my left hip. Like the stereotypical male I ignored it. Two weeks later, I'm covered in sweat (I don't usually - nervous system is shot due to that damn break in my neck) walking into the clinic here on campus. One of the doctors saw me shivering in the clinic's waiting room and IMMEDIATELY whisks me into a waiting room. One check of my blood pressure (60/30) and a temperature of 103 and she dials 911.

The really funny things about this is that I'm rhyming off one-liners and flirting very suggestively with the doctor. Now this is something I'd never do. I respect what they do immensely. Well, if you're going to die, what the hell. I have since apologized to her and she just laughed.

So, I get loaded into the ambulance and taken to the ICU straight past the ER. Bad huh? Yep, it's bad. My little heart can't pump enough blood to keep me alive. I start to have convulsions and shake violently on the bed. I'm immediately given IVs to help with the dehydration and low blood pressure. No luck. It helps a little bit then the BP starts to lower again. They make a call to an infectious disease doctor in Hamilton to see if there's anything. Only a new medicine that requires government approval for use. Don't have time they say. Do it anyway this doctor says. It works. My BP gets up to almost normal for me (100/60) and stays there. This drug works. If 4you thought coke in Australia was expensive get a load of this. This drug (that I have no clue what it's called) costs $1100 for each pill and I have to take 14 off them. Thank god for socialized medicine.

So now I'm in ICU and everything starts to stabilize. Except for one thing. They left me in one position on a back board for 8 hours and the little pressure sore on my hip (where the infection got into the bone) is now a large pressure sore. Fucking nurses!

I get discharged to my parents and spend the next three weeks completely on my left side on an air mattress. Do want to know the best high? The first time you sit up again and all that blood rushes to your head. Pass-out city!

And now I have nurses coming in twice a day to do the dressing. Plus, I can only spend an hour twice a day in my chair. All my other time is spent lying in bed being bored to tears. That time will grow.

I have moved back to Toronto. I'm not sure if it is the right choice but I can see the effect it was having on my parents. At least here I can do my own thing and cheat a little on that one hour.

So, everything right now is on hold. School is hold, rugby is on hold, life is on hold. Right now there are more important things to reflect on.

In regards to BL, one of the things that happens when I'm sick is that I get EXTREMELY irritable and cranky. To the point where I don't give a shit about anyone else and little things that slide off my back become issues. Many reasons for it but irrelevant here. Suffice it to say that if I offended anyone, I apologize. Generally, I know how to say things in the right way. I'm sure if I went back over my posts I'd find something, but I'm not going to spend the energy to check. I do know that I sent a PM to Damien that I hope he can ignore. Sorry bud.

On to better things...

D_T
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