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Well, I went tonight and spent money I shouldn't have on dope. (Meth is called dope here cause we don't really have heroin and crystal is sometimes called ice..)
I had been taking pills all day to try to quiet the craving since we had been unable to find any for the last 2 days or so.

A quarter of a gram runs $30 and $60 for a half. The shit is so expensive and it doesn't last long. I could only allow myself he quarter but between the 3 of us, me, my friend and the dealer. It didn't really cut it. I have only been doing it for about a month so compared to the other 2 guys I'm not as skilled with it nor have the lung capacity, so I don't get as good of a hit and feel a lil jipped.

So I waited until the dealer left and decided I would bang some of it. My friend prepped it for me. I could have done it myself but I didn't want to end up putting too much in, that could be bad. Went down without a hitch, but really, I prefer smoking it. My friend was very happy to hear that. He wasn't too fond of me banging it, he just wasn't going to tell me what to do with my own body and my own dope. It could have been that there wasn't enough in it but I like smoking it better because it has a good rush, you get to enjoy it more, longer, and it is more of a social thing. Needles have such a stigma attached to them that it certainly isn't social.

I will finally admit that I am in deeper into this than I really want to face. I can't believe it only took this long for the cravings to start. I said I was going to maybe do it only once a week but I have been doing it way more than that and when we can't find any that lil green meth monster starts chewing on my brain, "dope, dope, dope, dope". After a couple hits it quiets down and is content for a lil while. But I know it's gonna come back. Really the quarter was just a freaking tease. Just made me want more and of course enough is never enough. So I went and took the last of my Tramadol because it can get me a lil spun up.
I thought that I would be ok since I wasn't taking a whole gram at once. Well I was wrong. Total I think I had taken about 1,300 mgs and once I hit 1,000, I puke. It took awhile to kick in but my friend said my face just drained of all color and I said I didn't feel good.
Great a freaking repeat of the oxy puking episode. But it wasn't too bad, just once. Other than I had eaten VERY little and some,some how came out my nose. Now that was a new gross one for sure! I think it was how I had my head tilted. But I at least feel better now.

My arm really hurts though. It feels like I have a quarter sized bruise where I shot the dope. But there isn't one visible. I had a friend look at it and he says its hard to tell but it looks like a clean shot and I'll be ok. I hope so, I don't wanna try to explain that one! No more for me.

I really need to get a handle on this stuff. Cut back. Hell, I'm kinda motivated to get more hours at work just so that I can have more money to buy dope. That's not good. I'mstarting to worry a little and seeing how this can become very negative but I don't want to quit. Stupid I know, but I like it and I don't want to quit doing it for whatever reason...I really am not 100% sure why. It seems like the more I do it the more I like it or something. Maybe that is what addiction is...
I also wonder what I'm doing to my brain. I already have a lot of issues in there, could I be setting myself up for another psychotic episode?

It just doesn't seem to click.

This just doesn't seem like the girl that would end up banging meth. I feel like I live 2 different lives and actually I kinda do at times because I keep so much hidden. The sweet, up and coming girl who is going to college, and the wild drug using, never high enough party girl. I certainly can't live the last one forever.

I feel lost. I try to work it out in my blogs rather than on the threads. I seem to have a lot of trouble there lately. I don't know if its the meth or what. I think my interaction is normal but perhaps its not. I know that I "talk" a lot more than I set out to but that's kinda normal for any stimulant. I just feel like I don't quite belong anywhere. I'm just some misfit who can't fit anywhere.

I'd be more than willing to talk to anyone about all this through PM, just spare the lecture. I heard the warnings and didn't listen and now I'm getting into trouble. That is my fault, I thought I could handle it. Doesn't everyone who starts it? I just feel the need to talk to someone. I don't know if it's because it's such a secret and it bothers me or I'm just spun.

My good friend Alastair is in the army and has just come back to town from military exercises and is coming over for dinner tomorrow night.

We have occasionally got physical. He is very attractive and a good all round bloke to have as a friend with benefits, which he was before Ben and I started seeing each other.

So my flatmate Declan will be home. We are not hanging out much these days due to work and differing opinions on what real friends with benefits are.

He does not have what it takes to be a real true friend really. Hes usually nice but has been a cunt a couple of times so Im not interested in having much else to do with him.

I hope things are not weird tomorrow as Ali and I could fool around. Even he we dont we are very touchy feely. I would feel strange if it were Declan bringing a chick here. So I should talk to him about it but if I do he will probably make a big deal about of being uncomfortable rather than him being hurt.

I miss Ali. Hes older than me and really grounded. Its that vibr is the big difference between him and Declan.

Yanno what I find really nice?

I find it to be really nice of the fella who works behind the bar at the club because he partially opens my waterbottle before he gives it to me because he knows i'm too fucked up and weak to be able to open it myself and he knows that if he didn't I would probably die of dehydration because I would never be able to open it.

When I was in my twenties
I lived in an apartment
And every Saturday morning
Around 4:00 A.M..
I would hear the couple next door having sex through the walls

I’d lie on my bed
Smoke my cigar
And listen
“Call me a whore baby!” she shouted
“You nasty whore, I’ll fuck you to shreds!” he responded
She moaned and moaned
The lucky bastard…

Sometimes I would jack off and imagine what they were doing though that white wall
But after the first month
It just became mind-numbing
But there was one night I remember clearly
He called her a whore just as he did every other night
But this time
They weren’t having sex

There was the sound of a glass breaking
Followed by a thud smack against the wall
I went outside to smoke a cigarette
And saw the man who fucked her every week in a pair of handcuffs
He was getting in the back of a flashing police car
She was in a ambulance

I never quite understood what it all meant

sittin at the counter in the diner with nothin but a cup of coffee staring me back. The sound of plates clattering together and the swing of the kitchen door is always comforting. Every one looks the same anywhere you go. Pies and cakes behind the glass counter and women past their prime sighing and eyein up the tips in their apron pockets reminding themselves that theres a reason they work their hands to the bone in this bright formica purgatory.

Looking around booth to booth and nobodys alone. Everybody happy,at first I feel jealous but really I cant envy their ignorance. At least I know the score. Nothin is dependable except that everythings eventual. I can count on age, on my body slowly softening and fallin, I can trust gravity. i can count on drivin down the highway in the dark with no real destination just tryin to find somethin that dont exist. I can count on people leavin when it really counts, too, and I can count on there always bein a generic greasy spoon to rest my body in a minute to feel some kind of belonging, and people pretendin to care long enough til i get the check.

I know I dont belong here lookin like this. theyd say, hey now, wats a girl like you doin lookin so down? Come on sweetheart, cheer up will ya. It aint so bad! and Im sittin here feelin like fuckin ernest hemingway or some other bullshit miserable old fuck of a man who I probably would of hated if I ever seen them in real life. But here I am, and I see the same scene played out in hole in the wall bars and other questionable establishments at 30, 40, when my smile starts to wrinkle and the makeup just looks sad.

I can feel the imaginary cloud Im casting over everybody, but i know they probably dont even notice. Here I am brewin in my tired-ass feelings almost feelin guilty for bringin people down but I know they just as oblivious to me as I am to their family night at the diner lives. The waitresses probably prefer a handsome guy in a suit, just off the job, ready to be called hon and served "the regular". but they got me, a young one with no right to feel the way I do and quietly hope i get the fuck out.

I know they thinkin about that spot and how a real tipper could be sittin in my seat right now. How Im wastin their time with stupid coffees and not even a goddamn piece of toast or something. I know they hate me for sittin here silent , walkin around lookin like my dog just died or somethin. Jesus I can see my reflection in the pie case and its a joke. I dont even wanna look at my own bullshit-ass frowning face. everyone wonderin, the fuck is HER problem?

and they dont know that I been there too, and I know how its like to make your living off shinin everybody elses shoes, cleaning their shit and dirty toilets, feeding their fat ass bellies with a dinner on a warm plate and learning to apologize for even existing so you can take a couple dollars home for the night. They dont know that I care, for no reason except because I been there and I am there, and every day is a repeat of the last one and because fuck it. Why not.

They think Im some dumb bitch with a attitude problem walkin around all screw face for no reason, stingy ass no food orderin cunt who cant make polite conversation, just sit there and stare at the cheesecake behind the glass and probably leave a quarter on the counter when I go. But let em think wat the fuck they want. theyll see when I leave, when I give em more than it even costs for that little cup of diner coffee and Ill smile thinking about how maybe theyll feel a little better when I prove them wrong. I dont want thanks I just want somebody to know that I know they matter, and maybe somebody will show me the same thing someday. If not, fuck it, I still broke the mold of the parade of jackasses that streams in those doors every day demanding this and that and not even bothering to consider that waitresses make 2.80-something per hour to serve their rude asses.

I aint in the right body, I swear. Sometimes I wish I was old and ugly, so people couldnt say that youre young and pretty, go out and have some fun bullshit. I dont want to have fun, fun is shooting a fucking poison into my veins and the funnest part is hopin I dont wake up. Now thats amusement. Its goddamn fuckin great.

I cant take it anymore, I know my mood is like a magnetic force around me repelling everyone in the room,and it dont even feel that good to get away from the night anyways. I clean up my strip of counter and walk to the register, I aint gotta say a word. Two coffees? in a greek accent and I think god damnit that bitch wasnt giving me a refill when she offered all nice, more coffee? but hey wats 50, 85 cents anyways. even I got that much.

She rings it up and then somethin must be wrong because I see 1.25 flicker across the register, wait, twice? And here I was feelin like doin something right for once, and they want a buck twenty five for a 6 oz cup? And I pull a five from my pocket and get the change for the $2.68 and think about how this is one less bag tomorrow and in my mind i shake my head.

I aint got no job, no real possibilities for one, and they charge me more for 12 ounces than I would pay at a dunkin donuts even with a strawberry frosted. I dont go around on some lavish bougie-coffee-drinkin shit like that, Why the hell do you think i sit in a diner and only order a coffee? Because my budge is goddamn eighty five cents, and Im saving all the other cash I got for that sweet hit of bliss thats gonna knock me into the next galaxy the next chance I get to hit a home run into my arm.

Even when you tryina be nice they fuck ya. Aint that the truth.

But I pay the bitch, and fuck it. I put a dollar down under the ketchup bottle anyways and walk back out into the night rain.

This week I was greeted with the news that the situation up north has deteriorated, when any reasonable person would have expected that things couldn't have gotten much worse. The situation with the business and the industrial relations body is coming to a head in the next few weeks and for us, it's looking very ugly.

Mum is in a pretty medicated state and my sister has taken over handling the case, her recommendation that we settle out of court seems to be the right course of action, but mum can't understand how heavily the evidence is weighted against us. She wants to fight, in court, and for dad... a loss could result in us losing the business, maybe even her house.

Before this week I could have stated with some conviction that my sister was holding up well but the stress is getting to her and in our heated phone call on Thursday night, she was able to share some of that stress with me.

In turn I can't help but feel that this latest setback to my family is putting my recovery at risk. It's been a very sober three weeks now, during which time I have started putting some things in my life back together, even making tentative plans for the immediate future... the way a person does when they can actually see a future.

Still, I find myself growing so weary of reality so quickly.

I've been thinking lately about the person I used to be; someone others would have described as being cheerful, happy, social, relaxed, trusting, even positive. Every day that passes, I find the very idea of that person ever having been here more and more foreign.

I wake up drenched in anxiety, I spend the day lost in a haze of disinterest and at night I walk home cloaked in feelings of regret, remorse and an ever-deepening sadness about my life and the fortunes of my family.

Recently I've been noticing that I don't find many things funny anymore, taking other things way too seriously and also being quicker to anger. Alongside all of this... a growing sense, one that gnaws away at my conscience, that part of what is happening to my family is somehow the result of my actions (or inactions).

I don't know how to explain that this idea isn't just the warped thinking of someone who wants to be down on themself or someone desperately seeking to attach some karmic meaning to the tragedy that's playing out before them. It's just hard to accept that so many truly shit things, occurring with such cold indifference, should rain down in a such a short time.

Really I'm the biggest idiot god ever made. I'm bound and determined to ruin everything in my life. WHY WHY did I go off my med and all this other shit? Did I turn my brain off? If I can get through today without something horrible happening that would be awesome!! Get through this week? Oh please god...

free dope from seventeen year old kids! woo hoo! I thought it was a drunk dial from the neighbor, all he wants is clean gear!

Mephedrone is seriously like fucking god. Its so funny because every time before i'm about to do it i'm like wow this is a bad idea...and then i do it anyways and as soon as I come up i'm like how could I have thought this was a bad idea.

I am going to the club on friday with some friends.

Meph makes talking so effin difficult.

comin comin comin comin upup upperrrup comin comin uppppp cheayyy

I'm drivin down the Meph highway to heaven at speeds in excess of 1trillion, driving blinded and backwards.

Have you ever caught yourself clenching your jaw so much and was relieved to know that you caught yourself doing it...only to be caught with the fear that perhaps next time you might not realize your jaw was clenching for so long and you would crush your teeth.

If you haven't I assure you it isn't as worrisome of a thought as you may think. But merely a interesting thought in which you thought.

Welcome to bad idea central where bad ideas become good ideas and good ideas become god. END. WIN. And hence starts round 3 of a terrible awful blissfunl game I call Mephopoly. The object of the game is to be more awesome than you actually are Let the games begin!

I think I'm in the lead! But iIm gaining on myself fast. Who knows who will come out ahead in a game like this! It's anyone game tonight!

My eyes are jealous because want to dance like I do. ...and I myself am equally as jealous of their fluttering madness. They just dance and flutter and dance and I tell them to behave but who am I to ruin a high like they're experiencing. My eyes are in heaven tonight and I'm not far behind. I'm rootin for them all the way!...and they're pullin for me too! I have a feeling we're gonna be havin a good time tonight but it is only possible that it will be as good as it is, because of those zany crazy eyes.

...and Isn't it always the case that you''e never happy with what you have, you always want something that someone else has. Luckily I have developed a plan to make everyone happy. However, shortly after formulating my plan I realized my eyes and myself are one in the same....and so it was written and so it was done... and all in all it seemed to work out pretty well for the both of us.

I know a pretty unique group of individuals who are in a power struggle to decide who is feeling the most amazingest blissness heavenlike godhighmephedrone this wonderful night that we have here tonight...I don't like to point out names but I think it's critical (I would like to take a second to point out that I could not think of a suitable word to put where I currently have critical and I thought for a good long time but important would not suffice so I typed the word important into thesaurus and low and behold as I read down that list of ever so equally wonderful words I was met with my perfect match and so we've been together ever since?....I think it is critical that I let these fantastic individuals be known to the world and they are My legs, my arms, my knees, my stomach, my heart, BOTH my colons the little ovary twins and last but not least my head because he is the ring leader and without his contributions none of this could be possible.

SOMEONES teeth are going to be sore tomorrow. What else is new?


I should not have done this at all tonight but we all know that doesn't mean anything and now I am reaching that point where I should stop dosing because the euphoria has turned into a very scattered excited ADHD-like euphoria whereas the desired euphoria is concentrated and clean cut. I am a little proud of myself however because I managed to do 4 doses but not go over 400mg.


Mkitties are actually alien drones sent from outerspace to commander human brains. They are very tricky and most humans are not affected by them because only until recently when a chemist concocted a chemical called 4-Methylmethcathinone, which is the key to unlocking full and uncensored access to our brains, humans began putting this substance up their nostrils. Once there, hope was all but forgotten and the humans were enticed by their own selves to dose and redose. And once it was all over the ever so tricky kitties shut off the command and the humans were free.... except that eventually they would want to do it again and the process would just repeat itself. Luckily the only harm done the the human was physical, during the physical destruction, the human was entranced in a state of pure ecstasy.

There's a new title under my name, as no doubt others have noticed. For the first time in ~5 years, I logged on today as a member of Bluelight Crew.

A lot led up to this decision and I know to a lot of you this probably seems pretty abrupt. I thought pretty hard about this, and came to the conclusion that it is in my best interest to step into a role with less visibility.

I will still be around here and there as a member of Bluelight Crew, but definitely not as much as when I was on staff, and maybe not for a little while.

If anyone would like to reach me that doesn't have my contact information, please drop me a PM or, preferably an e-mail. I won't be logging on every day anymore, but I am often available on AIM, gchat, and other sites that some of you already communicate with me on.

I wish Bluelight and especially the members of staff with whom I have worked the most closely all the best. I start an IRL volunteer position in about a month that is going to be mentally and emotionally taxing. It's time I got off the computer and started doing things differently - and so that is that, I'm retired.

Cookie:

Life is not a matter of holding good cards, but sometimes, playing a poor hand well.

G'day blog,

Im a weee bit drunk and a weeee bit high. I stepped off the wagon last night, its been months and its still affecting me. Im writing here to procrastinate from going to the shops to get food for my lorikeet.

I have decided to buy a Phillipino husband. Ive already had one and they are great, but I want a full blood gorgeous hunk with no issues.

Apart from that, all is kinda dull. My flatmate is going ok, we dont talk much as I cant be bothered and neither can he when there is tv.

My dad had a heart attack this week but he is home from the hospital and ok. He tried to lecture me on the phone but its my turn to give him lip.

Bloodt lumpy blood going thru his heart and hes giving ME shit!! OH no you dont dad!

Anyway. going out tonight apparently with some girls from work. Tarted up to the nines. Ill bet ya I bail and go tp bed instead!! HAHA

i think mdpv is a cool guy. Eh keeps up awake for 4 days and doesnt afraid of stimulant psychosis. But my sat evening was great.

Music...an important force in our lives. But what kind of force? It makes us happy, sad, angry, excited, inspired, disgusted...it changes us. From the worst cover to the most tearful and heartfelt live guitar solos, this is evident. So why do we focus on static tracks and not the live or the reinterpreted? Music is supposed to crack the shells our souls are encased in and let them touch the rest of the world. This is why I love guitar hero. Even despite its static nature, it still is a form of creation - every track I play well binds into my psyche and plucks the strings of my heart as I press each note. Music is both meditation and prayer for change at its highest level...maybe recognition as such would spur greater art and appreciation.

I know that I have blogged a lot lately, I doubt a single one was anywhere near sober. Now that the money is pretty much gone and the scripts have run out. Sober is reality. Other than alcohol I guess but I KNOW and KEEP learning that me and alcohol is a really bad combo. I don't think my current weight helps much because it doesn't take much to get me tanked. Everclear is idiotic, period.

Jesus I have done so many idiot things lately. I want to take a moment to say I'm sorry to those who actually are still around enough to read it.
Posting when high seems fine, because to you, you feel fine and pretty normal.
Apparently I spend time rambeling, not thinking about what I saying, and pretty much making a total ass out of myself. Pretty much how stimulants can effect most people. So for that I'm sorry.

Right now I decided to take a post from another thread and add it here as well to be kept for myself and for others to also see that well, I can be somewhat clear-headed and realistic. Although when you're in the shit hole, it isn't fun to look at.
Looking in the mirror can really such at times.

"My bf called me on being off my medication (I'm sure the drug use going through the roof isn't helping at all either). Why did I ever go off? Because I thought I would be ok. No. Perhaps that's why I've kinda made an ass out of myself as of late.
He said we had done this before. When he met me, I had a set plan for my suicide. He was my support until the meds started working and I could get it together. He said we can do it again, together.
But lately, he is distance, angry, unreadable and non-responsive so I may have thrown it all out the window to stupidity.
And that fear put me even more at risk.

After reading this post, I did take a look at myself. I am crying for help, but refusing to take action to get it. Why don't I go to therapy?
I'm afraid. Last one, I hinted at a suicidal feeling and it was BAM, my mother in there and demanding inpatient. I will NOT go inpatient. It's hell and lord knows I can't afford any of it.
Other-forced rehab. If I open up about using opiates and meth. I'm so scared I'll end up back in rehab. I want to at least TRY to clean myself up.
Plus there was always the guilt. I'm not on my own, my parents and a good insurance pays for medication and therapy if I decide to get it. But even my mom having the pay the co-pay comes with SO much guilt. As to why she has to pay because I'm fucked up or that is the gist of what she says to me.

I'm hoping once the medication has time to work the thought will stop. I KNOW I need not to get drunk. The last 2 times ended in some psychotic and/or dangerous suicidal behaviors. Depressant you damn idiot...

Right now I'm struggling SO much with my thoughts. I cry so easy, even though I try constantly to force myself to swallow it. I just can't fall to pieces here. Everything else is crashing around me, I at least have to hold it together. I'm not quite sure what I'm going to do, but I do know I have no plan and I'm not a suicide risk at this time. I'm just so scared of where I could be. "

My friend knows this and is trying his hardest to get me to go out to the demos (please tell me you guys have those in other places at fairs and shit right?). He said no alcohol, since last night the Long Islands kicked my ass. It keeps the green drug monster away (and as I said in another thread....I should have listened to you guys about meth. I should have listened...) But I just ended up sitting alone crying and then decided to drive myself home...drunk. When will I have a day that I don't act like an idiot?

I am depressed and don't want to go. I have a TON of homework I need to do (I have become completely unmotiated to even try anymore). Plus applications to fill out and resume to redo/update.
The 3 hours a week for $8 an hour isn't cutting it. Not to mention I spend money on meth. IDOT.
But I have to kick myself for thinking, new job, more pay = more money for drugs.
I have to say "Jesus Leslie when will it end. Knock this shit off already. Before it happens like your friend said it would, him picking you up on a street corner to take you home to your mother because he can't stand to watch you die."
Coming back to reality SUCKS.

I hope that through reading this blog and some of my more sober posts, that some of the non-drugged, real me, who really is a decent person might just show a little. Who I am and what I'm doing isn't matching anymore. And I have to work on that...

I have been so excited for my family vacation (which I leave for on Tuesday).
I am seeing my parents for the first time in four years and my brother who I haven't seen in almost a year-My brother has been in Iraq the last nine months.I have had alot of anxiety over it......
He has sent me emails as often as he can and has told me about his life there.
Though (and I hear often) it is not as crazy over there as it once was- my brother is on recon missions that put him in harms way often....
He has written about alot of really hard things to know,for me, and I can't imagine living it......
His living conditions are appalling-
Anyway- I was very happy when he arrived back on US soil for his 2 week leave, 2 days ago.
His girlfriend called today and said they were out at some friends of hers house and drinking.....
I guess my brother was fine for a while and then she said he just lost it.
She said he started balling his eyes out in front of everyone (my brother VERY VERY RARELY cries)- then he tries to fight people and pushes his girlfriend and takes off down the road......
I guess he was trying to fight poles,shit in someones yard and was suicidal.
He feels like he is suffocating sometimes, thinks he needs to be watching everywhere for attacks or bombs-
I guess he was in a pretty bad situation a few weeks ago (and I can't imagine how bad b/c he has told me some pretty frightening stuff before this incident in which he just says was 'really really bad') and they required he to see a Psych in Iraq-
The psych I guess didn't think anything was wrong then and told him he needed to talk about how he is feeling.
I am really worried about how to move forward b/c when I called he was asleep but we talked a few minutes and he said he didn't want to see another psych (I suggested when we all get together he go onto a base and see someone).......
I know he is bothered by being in Iraq b/c he thinks the war was started for shit. But he feels it is his 'duty' and we can't just pull out......
Oh I am nervous.

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Well I am a noob at this I really don't know what I am doing but I have questions that I would like informed people to help me make some medical decisions.

I have taken an SSRI twice (the second time doesn't matter I wasn't on it long enough to know how it would effect my current state of depression....) But I took Paxil and I have a cutting issue and it made it worsen and I even got stitches because the cuts were so deep... They threw me in a psych-ward for like a week and switched me to prozec and fuck I took like four days worth and I said fuck that and I stopped it immediately, so I didn't know how it will effect me.... But now my doctor wants me to try Celexa... I don't know about it.
Can anyone tell me if you can climax on the SSRI, or is it with all SSRI's that you don't climax? 8)

So we did it again, in and out, with plausable deniablity. all fueled by amphetamine and black BDU sets.

its amazing what you can get done in 14 minutes, when your prepared to do what must be done.

anyone who wants more, can contact me privatly, and if i dont know ya, dont expect alot of info.

and to everyone who says modern conflict is sterile and done at range or via a comp op wpn system....lets just say My knife would disagree. there are times that require doing the nasty things face to face.

so dont join up expecting it wil only even be on a screen, cause its alot different when you feel the warmth of his blood soak your bdu's

fuckin I'm sore...I ran 8 miles, 56 minutes with 75lbs of gear and a gasmask....fuck yeah.

now for a short tactics lecture.

okay, one of the big things that SF units so good, is they seem to avoid ambushes, sentries, main formations, ect....how this is done?...generally, by finding the hardest, longest, most unpleasant route of getting somewhere, and taking it.

why?...people tend to be lazy. they like roads and firm ground, not mountians and bogs. they tend to avoid them, thus, they dont see us, as thats where we go. ideally, its nice and fucking hot, or cold and rainy...once more, that generally makes people avoid going out, giving us the chance to work unseen.

works for other stuff too...no one tends to expect your coming the hardest way possible.

Yesterday I realized that even though my friends are junkies, they care about me like family in a sense...but we're a junkie family...you know what I mean? Like, get this.

I had been thinking about getting another dub of black but my homie beat me to the punch and called me first asking if I could give him and his lady a ride into town. I wasn't doing anything important and was planning on copping anyway so I said I'd be there in 45min. When I picked them up they were both in a rather chipper mood making me laugh the whole way into town. After they made some money from selling some benzo's we wen't and copped some H and like we always do, we went into king soopers to get high after.

I didn't cook my whole shot, maybe about 3/4ths of it, but I could tell it was a little more then I was used to. While cooking my shot I was so excited that I spaced the two valium's that I took only an hour prior to shooting which led to my scary experience. After shooting I knew I did too much, not enough to overdose, but I coudln't even stand on both feet. I have cuts on my leg from falling in the parking lot afterword's trying to get to my car. I even ditched my rig in the dirt because I was so positive that a cop was going to see me and question me.

The moment my homies saw me they freaked out and knew I did too much. My skin had lost all color and I could barely talk. Then to my surprise...they took care of me. Getting me water, and sticking around to make sure I didn't sit still and go into a nod that I wouldn't ever wake up from. You know, I always thought of my junkie friends as the kind of people where if I came close to overdosing, they would just steal my dope and money and leave me in an alley. But after today, I realized I got love for them and they got love for me...while only these two for now.

i have a fear of people. its not so much groups of people, or interacting with random people. i do both fine. but as soon as i feel i let someone down, or they could be mad at me, i am unable to talk to them. like to the point that i have panic attacks when i think about confronting the person.

so, yet again, i fucked up in school. in part, it was because i fell behind on an assignment, and then proceed to skip the following classes to avoid confrontation with the professor. i dug myself a similar hole back in ungrad...

anyhow, i finally spoke to my professors (a few weeks after the quarter ended) and they were all willing to work with me. at this point, i am just raising my grades from incompletes to something resembling a passing grade.

so while school resolved itself (provided i finish my work), i still need to deal with my mental health. i've been going to the gym regularly, which is helping a little (4 times last week, and exercising at home everyday!). and schoolwise, i wrote out a schedule that i am doing a fairly good job of sticking to. but i still need something and i am unsure of what.

Really the forums only cause me pain. Angry words and personal attacks that leave me crying. Yeah, it's stupid but damn me for being so sensitive. If I could turn cold and hard I would in a second because I just can't bear the pain.

I get a lot of "just quit", guys, if it was that easy none of us would do drugs. I am in far deeper than I ever thought. I try to come to the only place I can share and be honest and not hide my secret life and it doesn't work. I get more of the above mentioned and those who I trusted and called my friends have asked me not to even speak to them. Really, it cuts me to the core.

Emotional pain for me is a physical ache in my chest. I wish I could explain. I can't blame everything on BPD (if wish people would take a moment to ACTUALLY understand it instead of thiniking they do) but I think that is wear is stems from.

Everything is spiraling downward annd I feel like I'm falling into a dark well scraping my bloody fingers and nails trying to get out. Only causing more pain, a pain I wish someone could understand rather than make fun of and laugh in my face as I fall broken to the floor.

I know this all can seem kinda dramatic, but honestly this is truely how I feel. Suicide is on my mine now that I am alone, What is the point of this pain? Maybe I'm just too fucked up and my life will always be full off it. I FEELso unwanted, aburden, a waste of space...maybe I should try to actually do it right this time

Really I'm pouring my pain, suffering and hopelessness out here...but I know it isn't going to do any good nor change the way ppl see me. They will dislike me all the same. But at least if I decide to leave all this behind, it won't be a surprise.

I missed it!!! I was sleeping still this morning , but a lot of my students in Korea saw it, as well as some of my friends here...%)

The solar eclipse of July 22, 2009 was the longest total solar eclipse of the 21st century, lasting as much as 6 minutes and 39 seconds in some places. It caused tourist interest in eastern China, Nepal and India.

The eclipse was part of Saros series 136, as was the record-setting solar eclipse of July 11, 1991. The next event from this series will be on August 2, 2027.[4] The exceptional duration was a result of the Moon being near perigee, with the apparent diameter of the Moon 8% larger than the Sun (magnitude 1.080) and the Earth being near aphelion[5] where the Sun appeared slightly smaller.

This was the second in the series of three eclipses in a month, with the lunar eclipse on July 7 and the lunar eclipse on August 6.

It was visible from a narrow corridor through northern Maldives, northern Pakistan and northern India, eastern Nepal, northern Bangladesh, Bhutan, northern Philippines, the northern tip of Myanmar, central China and the Pacific Ocean, including the Ryukyu Islands, Marshall Islands and Kiribati.

Click to expand...

As viewed from Quezon City, Philippines

As I read through threads filed under "The Dark Side," it is striking, the degree to which human beings -- drug users in particular, since we become so wrapped up in how we feel at any given moment -- manufacture agony for themselves, and expect to be regarded as suffering saints because of that agony.

I have a history of disordered eating and drug abuse, so my main example of this tendency is: me. I can be one melodramatic, woe-is-me, whining little bitch some of the time. Drugs aggravate this tendency immensely. Be the substances in question uppers or downers, legal or illegal, the common thread which ties all my drug use together is that of manufactured drama. I feel bad for an instant, so I take something. Or I feel good, but have an instant of wanting to feel better, so I take something (and end up feeling much, much worse).

An eating disorder is nothing if not manufactured drama. It injects a feeling of epic struggle into otherwise mundane activities. Rather than changing habits and activities so they are actually meaningful, an eating disorder -- or drug abuse -- or wallowing in depression -- allows a person to become absorbed in self-imposed misery and therefore stave off boredom.

Example: I spent yesterday smoking, napping, and eating. And the day before. Today, I am ten dollars poorer, and have nothing to show for those lost days, aside from feeling like I've been inflated to twice my ordinary size owing to the gigantic blobs of food slowly working their way through my digestive system.

The emotional pendulum of drugged living, like the feeble wallowing of depression, is all sound and fury, ultimately signifying nothing that will last beyond any given moment. The cure to depression is action. "But it's hard to act when you're depressed!" Damn straight -- I felt worthless and bloated this morning, felt like doing nothing at all. But I still forced myself to get onto the treadmill, and mere minutes into the workout I was feeling better, and now, about fifty minutes into it (I have my laptop rigged up onto my treadmill), I feel fucking amazing.

"But that's an illusion as much as a drugged feeling is! All you're doing is enjoying an endorphin high!" Absolutely true. And so what? People in a state of depression or anxiety tend -- or at least I tend -- to make that state out to be some kind of natural baseline. I think there is also a self-aggrandizing tendency to make sufferers of depression, anxiety, eating disorder, whatever out to be more intelligent, more noble, more perceptive, whatever, when in reality depression is just as much an illusion as an opiate or endorphin or any other kind of high. I prefer pleasant illusions to unpleasant ones. I'd prefer the truth over either set of illusions, but one thing drugs have been good for is revealing just how shaky any given set of assumptions is.

I think I was feeling some pain last night...withdrawal pain. Of course it was nothing compared to what I'm used to experiencing, but my legs did keep me awake most of the night, and i hate not being able to regulate a consistent temperature for more then 15 minutes. Even though I have been doing cotton shots today and yesterday, it still had been 48-72 hours since my last real dope shot, so I guess this would be the worst of the pain I'd experience unless I decided to use again, which for the most part is always on my mind.

On another topic...

I was going through old documents on my iPod, and came across a relapse scenario I had to submit the day of my graduation while I was in rehab. Reading it again makes me realize how much I was "in love" with this drug while I was in treatment. Here is a snippet of the two page paper:

...I opened the balloon with my teeth and took it out from the foil…I got a whiff of the faint smell of vinegar. My body trembled, I couldn’t wait. The surrounding people in the stalls and bathroom’s just added to rush of getting high, I took a small scoop of dope and poured it in the cooker with a little bit of water and heated it up. I dropped a cotton ball in and watched it suck up the dope just like how I would be in a few brief moments. I took the clean rig I had and stabbed it straight into the heart of the cotton, pulled back the plunger, and watched the syringe fill with a dark brown liquid.

By this point I couldn’t stop myself, I had no control over my hands, no control over my thoughts, this was how it had to be. I unstrapped the belt from my waist and tied up. I let my hand hang low so I could see which vein would be the best pick. For the first time in months…I actually had a choice for which vein I wanted. I pushed the needle in and felt it break the surface. It was time to register; I pulled back a little till a small air bubble filled the tip of the barrel. As I went deeper with the needle the bubble filled with blood. By this point I could barely contain the overwhelming feelings. I let go of the belt with my teeth and it spiraled around my bicep till it was a loose hold.

I took one deep breath and pushed the plunger down. I watched the barrel empty into my vein. By the time I pulled it out I could already feel my head spinning and legs going limp. I stumble to clean up but manage. I walk to the theater and meet Mama’s, the darkness provides the perfect cover…

Damn, just reading that makes me crave again, now I can see why everyone in treatment said they were "disturbed" after I read my paper.

If you want to read the whole paper, see my entry by clicking the following link.

http://www.bluelight.ru/vb/blog.php?b=1717