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Hello BL. This blog post is an attempt to explain myself a little bit, and explain why I am often angry, agitated, and unhappy.
I think of myself as a failure. I have been successful in many things in life (games, sports, hobbies), but when it comes to school and work and life choices, I am a failure. I breezed through a gifted high school easily, and thus developed a habit of doing the minimum amount of work necessary to get by. This did not work when I applied the same approach at a challenging liberal arts college, and I flunked out after 3 semesters with a variety of disciplinary incidents in my file (nothing serious, just minor troublemaking and failure to respect authority).
For the next six years I did nothing productive, though I had a source of money with which to live on. I would make half assed efforts at jobs, though they never worked out, partly because I would get bored and frustrated easily, and partly because I have always had problems with authority. I shouldn’t say I did nothing productive – I cultivated a lot of my lifelong hobbies and interests, stared working out and became very good at racquetball and football, and became a recognized expert at a favorite board. But in terms of life progress, I didn’t progress at all.
Over those years I would self medicate with alcohol and drugs, but I never crossed the line into abuse, though my ecstasy use was pretty close. I have also been on various prescription meds over the years to treat various diagnosed conditions (ADD, depression, bi-polar, anxiety, OCD). Though, I always rejected the notion that I was bi-polar, even though all signs pointed to it. I always seemed to have ADD, but figured that was normal, and that I couldn’t concentrate because the material or work was really boring. When I was interested in something, I would lose track of the world around me and engage in that activity for hours.
The anxiety did not bother me much, because I didn’t have to deal with it. I had a girlfriend and close friends, and I did not need to deal with anyone I didn’t want to. Being borderline OCD didn’t bother me because, well, I think everyone else is weird for not being that way. I keep my place immaculate and have no tolerance for messes or thing being out of place. I like it that way. I do things a specific way and I don’t like interruptions to my routine and my space.
During these six years I did not cultivate any skills in dealing with the real world, interacting only with friends, family, and my girlfriend.
After six years of being this way, I decided to start doing something. I knew my money was running out, and that my girlfriend was losing patience waiting for me to fulfill my potential.
I returned to school and started working part time teaching SAT prep classes. I started over with school, and breezed through three years with a 4.0 average, and became one of my boss’s favorite teachers. I was not drinking often (I had always been a problem drinker) and was not using substances often.
This is where things started to derail. I don’t know if I burned out, if the years of using drugs and alcohol caught up with me, or if I just became more disenchanted with life than usual, but the last 5 years have been a disastrous serious of failures. I spent 7 semesters trying to finish that last year of school in three different programs (math, secondary education, and economics). I got numerous W’s, F’s, D’s, and C’s, and have nothing to show for it except thousands of dollars of debt and a GPA in the low 2’s. I walked away from the actuarial math degree despite crushing the first exam (no one else in my group even passed it). I walked away from the education degree because I couldn’t see myself interacting with teachers, students, and principals, despite the fact that my teaching and tutoring skills have always been praised.
My boss said I could take over his SAT teaching company when he was looking to retire in the very near future. I didn’t even pursue that incredible opportunity.
What did I end up doing? I walked away from all this so I could play online poker professionally. I have always loved games and cards and excelled at them, and I figured, “hey, I can make a living playing a game I enjoy.”
But I have failed, despite making $30 to $50 an hour and having the stats and ability to easily make $60 or $70 an hour. I lack discipline, and the emotional roller coaster of poker sends me to the highest highs and the lowest lows.
When I sit here clicking the mouse taking people’s money online, sometimes I hate myself. I feel guilty, and I feel like a failure. I could have done anything in life, and I am doing this? Taking advantage of people who are too stupid to realize how bad they are at a card game? It’s sad and depressing. But it’s a perfect job for me – I make my own hours and I have no boss. I don’t have to leave my home. And I can outplay and outsmart people and get paid to do it.
But my failure to make as much money as I should weighs on me. I am not getting anywhere, despite the potential to make $100,000 a year playing this game. I am deep in debt and struggling to pay my bills. Financial difficulties forced me to make four changes in my living situation in recent years, all of which were disastrous. I cannot live with people. I just can’t do it. I begin to resent them for things that bother me but that are not their fault. I need to live alone. Temperamental, OCD neat freaks who have a terrible time sleeping and work second shift and sleep at random times should NOT live with people.
But, I cannot afford to live alone. However, I cannot afford not to, because living here is putting me over the edge of insanity. I hate it here so much, and I don’t want to lose two close friends (whom I currently live with). My living situation is making it hard to play poker and my not playing poker is making it impossible to fix my living situation. I feel like I am stuck in a vicious cycle.
I am scared. I have given up much of my hope that I will ever succeed or get myself out of this. I don’t envision a happy future. I think about death a lot. I have physical and emotional pain that I carry with me from the time I wake to the time I go to sleep.
The emotional pain is the result of years of failure, of letting my parents down, letting myself down, letting my friends down, having my heart broken by most of the women I have cared about.
The physical pain is more problematic, as I have carpal tunnel syndrome and have had cubital tunnel syndrome. I had four surgeries for these (one on each wrist and elbow), but I am in constant pain and discomfort. It makes is very difficult to sleep at night, and impossible to sleep comfortably with a woman by my side (I need to sleep with my arms straight out to the sides, or else they start to hurt and I cannot fall asleep).
The pain and discomfort is aggravated by almost every single thing I like to do – games, darts, pool, sports, cards, weights, racquetball, and using the computer. I hate watching TV and don’t like watching movies. I just cannot sit still and I want to be “doing something.” But worst of all, I fear that this will prevent me from playing online poker, such that even if I do get all this other stuff sorted out, I will fail anyway because of this physical limitation. I just don’t know what else to do with my life, and that scares me and leaves me hopelessly depressed and anxious all the time.
I often don’t feel like living any more, though I would never do anything to hurt myself. But I am scared that I have nothing but unhappiness and frustration to look forward to. I am scared that the best times are gone, that my mental and athletic performance at the things I excel at is on the downswing, and will just get worse and worse. I am scared that I will never really fit in to this world; never find my place in society.
I hate leaving the house sometimes, it is just all so overwhelming and frustrating – traffic, hassles, dealing with authority figures who don’t see things my way, dealing with businesses who are trying to squeeze you for every dollar and ripping you off in the process, dealing with women who just hurt me and don’t understand me. I feel distant from my friends and family. Most of the time I don’t understand how they can stand to be around me, yet they care more about me than I do. I am scared that they will realize that I am not worth the trouble and that I will then be truly alone. I am scared that they are going to become parents and have no time for anything except their kids and their careers (This has already started to happen a little bit).
I decided to finally accept that I have bi-polar disorder and get help. I have resisted treatment for years because I was scared. Scared that it would change me, make me someone else, take away my edge, take away the manic highs and just leave the crushing lows. I was scared that I would never know if I was the one pulling myself out of the fog or if it was just the medicine. I was scared of the side effects, that they would mess with my appetite or my (at times) boundless energy or that there would be unpleasant sexual side effects (which there have been in the past with some meds).
But after my recent emotional meltdown, I have decided I cannot continue fighting this on my own. It hasn’t worked. I am going to allow the doctor to prescribe a mood stabilizer and an anti depressant. I am scared and apprehensive, but I am willing to finally give this a real try. I would greatly appreciate it if people would share any experiences they have had with this treatment, or if people would offer advice in general for what I should do at this point in my life, because I truly feel lost.
Thank you.
-FJones
I think of myself as a failure. I have been successful in many things in life (games, sports, hobbies), but when it comes to school and work and life choices, I am a failure. I breezed through a gifted high school easily, and thus developed a habit of doing the minimum amount of work necessary to get by. This did not work when I applied the same approach at a challenging liberal arts college, and I flunked out after 3 semesters with a variety of disciplinary incidents in my file (nothing serious, just minor troublemaking and failure to respect authority).
For the next six years I did nothing productive, though I had a source of money with which to live on. I would make half assed efforts at jobs, though they never worked out, partly because I would get bored and frustrated easily, and partly because I have always had problems with authority. I shouldn’t say I did nothing productive – I cultivated a lot of my lifelong hobbies and interests, stared working out and became very good at racquetball and football, and became a recognized expert at a favorite board. But in terms of life progress, I didn’t progress at all.
Over those years I would self medicate with alcohol and drugs, but I never crossed the line into abuse, though my ecstasy use was pretty close. I have also been on various prescription meds over the years to treat various diagnosed conditions (ADD, depression, bi-polar, anxiety, OCD). Though, I always rejected the notion that I was bi-polar, even though all signs pointed to it. I always seemed to have ADD, but figured that was normal, and that I couldn’t concentrate because the material or work was really boring. When I was interested in something, I would lose track of the world around me and engage in that activity for hours.
The anxiety did not bother me much, because I didn’t have to deal with it. I had a girlfriend and close friends, and I did not need to deal with anyone I didn’t want to. Being borderline OCD didn’t bother me because, well, I think everyone else is weird for not being that way. I keep my place immaculate and have no tolerance for messes or thing being out of place. I like it that way. I do things a specific way and I don’t like interruptions to my routine and my space.
During these six years I did not cultivate any skills in dealing with the real world, interacting only with friends, family, and my girlfriend.
After six years of being this way, I decided to start doing something. I knew my money was running out, and that my girlfriend was losing patience waiting for me to fulfill my potential.
I returned to school and started working part time teaching SAT prep classes. I started over with school, and breezed through three years with a 4.0 average, and became one of my boss’s favorite teachers. I was not drinking often (I had always been a problem drinker) and was not using substances often.
This is where things started to derail. I don’t know if I burned out, if the years of using drugs and alcohol caught up with me, or if I just became more disenchanted with life than usual, but the last 5 years have been a disastrous serious of failures. I spent 7 semesters trying to finish that last year of school in three different programs (math, secondary education, and economics). I got numerous W’s, F’s, D’s, and C’s, and have nothing to show for it except thousands of dollars of debt and a GPA in the low 2’s. I walked away from the actuarial math degree despite crushing the first exam (no one else in my group even passed it). I walked away from the education degree because I couldn’t see myself interacting with teachers, students, and principals, despite the fact that my teaching and tutoring skills have always been praised.
My boss said I could take over his SAT teaching company when he was looking to retire in the very near future. I didn’t even pursue that incredible opportunity.
What did I end up doing? I walked away from all this so I could play online poker professionally. I have always loved games and cards and excelled at them, and I figured, “hey, I can make a living playing a game I enjoy.”
But I have failed, despite making $30 to $50 an hour and having the stats and ability to easily make $60 or $70 an hour. I lack discipline, and the emotional roller coaster of poker sends me to the highest highs and the lowest lows.
When I sit here clicking the mouse taking people’s money online, sometimes I hate myself. I feel guilty, and I feel like a failure. I could have done anything in life, and I am doing this? Taking advantage of people who are too stupid to realize how bad they are at a card game? It’s sad and depressing. But it’s a perfect job for me – I make my own hours and I have no boss. I don’t have to leave my home. And I can outplay and outsmart people and get paid to do it.
But my failure to make as much money as I should weighs on me. I am not getting anywhere, despite the potential to make $100,000 a year playing this game. I am deep in debt and struggling to pay my bills. Financial difficulties forced me to make four changes in my living situation in recent years, all of which were disastrous. I cannot live with people. I just can’t do it. I begin to resent them for things that bother me but that are not their fault. I need to live alone. Temperamental, OCD neat freaks who have a terrible time sleeping and work second shift and sleep at random times should NOT live with people.
But, I cannot afford to live alone. However, I cannot afford not to, because living here is putting me over the edge of insanity. I hate it here so much, and I don’t want to lose two close friends (whom I currently live with). My living situation is making it hard to play poker and my not playing poker is making it impossible to fix my living situation. I feel like I am stuck in a vicious cycle.
I am scared. I have given up much of my hope that I will ever succeed or get myself out of this. I don’t envision a happy future. I think about death a lot. I have physical and emotional pain that I carry with me from the time I wake to the time I go to sleep.
The emotional pain is the result of years of failure, of letting my parents down, letting myself down, letting my friends down, having my heart broken by most of the women I have cared about.
The physical pain is more problematic, as I have carpal tunnel syndrome and have had cubital tunnel syndrome. I had four surgeries for these (one on each wrist and elbow), but I am in constant pain and discomfort. It makes is very difficult to sleep at night, and impossible to sleep comfortably with a woman by my side (I need to sleep with my arms straight out to the sides, or else they start to hurt and I cannot fall asleep).
The pain and discomfort is aggravated by almost every single thing I like to do – games, darts, pool, sports, cards, weights, racquetball, and using the computer. I hate watching TV and don’t like watching movies. I just cannot sit still and I want to be “doing something.” But worst of all, I fear that this will prevent me from playing online poker, such that even if I do get all this other stuff sorted out, I will fail anyway because of this physical limitation. I just don’t know what else to do with my life, and that scares me and leaves me hopelessly depressed and anxious all the time.
I often don’t feel like living any more, though I would never do anything to hurt myself. But I am scared that I have nothing but unhappiness and frustration to look forward to. I am scared that the best times are gone, that my mental and athletic performance at the things I excel at is on the downswing, and will just get worse and worse. I am scared that I will never really fit in to this world; never find my place in society.
I hate leaving the house sometimes, it is just all so overwhelming and frustrating – traffic, hassles, dealing with authority figures who don’t see things my way, dealing with businesses who are trying to squeeze you for every dollar and ripping you off in the process, dealing with women who just hurt me and don’t understand me. I feel distant from my friends and family. Most of the time I don’t understand how they can stand to be around me, yet they care more about me than I do. I am scared that they will realize that I am not worth the trouble and that I will then be truly alone. I am scared that they are going to become parents and have no time for anything except their kids and their careers (This has already started to happen a little bit).
I decided to finally accept that I have bi-polar disorder and get help. I have resisted treatment for years because I was scared. Scared that it would change me, make me someone else, take away my edge, take away the manic highs and just leave the crushing lows. I was scared that I would never know if I was the one pulling myself out of the fog or if it was just the medicine. I was scared of the side effects, that they would mess with my appetite or my (at times) boundless energy or that there would be unpleasant sexual side effects (which there have been in the past with some meds).
But after my recent emotional meltdown, I have decided I cannot continue fighting this on my own. It hasn’t worked. I am going to allow the doctor to prescribe a mood stabilizer and an anti depressant. I am scared and apprehensive, but I am willing to finally give this a real try. I would greatly appreciate it if people would share any experiences they have had with this treatment, or if people would offer advice in general for what I should do at this point in my life, because I truly feel lost.
Thank you.
-FJones
Since the Journal is back-- are blogs being done away with?
Or will both remain?
Silly, both a blog and journal... Is there a difference?
-------------------------------------------
Life has been fairly ok. Been stressed from work, but I have visited with many friends this past week, caught up with a few I haven't in some time.
I saw Shpongle on Friday, went to a festival on Saturday, tanning bed Sunday (i am pasty gimme a break!), and today spoke with 3 nice, good strangers about monoatomic gold, illuminati, chelation, health, and all that disgustingly fun stuff. (imo).
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I rode my bike home in the pouring rain, with groceries, ice cold wind with just a sweater and jeans.
It was so cold my nipples hurt, and I only stopped shivering an hour ago. Cold to the bone.
I am sure many would say, just now eh?
Life is good, beyond the cynicism, apathy and general intolerance I have befriended.
It tends to be a reliable comrade.
I'd like to say --forgive me to everything, but i don't believe any actually fully--deeply forgive.
No matter how wonderfully enlightened.
Or will both remain?
Silly, both a blog and journal... Is there a difference?
-------------------------------------------
Life has been fairly ok. Been stressed from work, but I have visited with many friends this past week, caught up with a few I haven't in some time.
I saw Shpongle on Friday, went to a festival on Saturday, tanning bed Sunday (i am pasty gimme a break!), and today spoke with 3 nice, good strangers about monoatomic gold, illuminati, chelation, health, and all that disgustingly fun stuff. (imo).
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I rode my bike home in the pouring rain, with groceries, ice cold wind with just a sweater and jeans.
It was so cold my nipples hurt, and I only stopped shivering an hour ago. Cold to the bone.
I am sure many would say, just now eh?
Life is good, beyond the cynicism, apathy and general intolerance I have befriended.
It tends to be a reliable comrade.
I'd like to say --forgive me to everything, but i don't believe any actually fully--deeply forgive.
No matter how wonderfully enlightened.
I've been thinking a lot lately about the effects of alcohol, both social and personal. It seems to me that people come to the use of alcohol for a variety of reasons.
I believe the reason people first choose to consume alcohol is simply for the fact that it is a culturally sanctioned substance, it is in a sense a rite of passage for young people making the transition from childhood to adulthood (in fact it is one of the select few rites of passage practiced in 21st century North American culture). This first taste of alcohol gives people a vague understanding of the effects, the advantages and disadvantages and the social etiquette accompanying it. From this point on people will choose to either incorporate or disclude alcohol intoxication from their lives.
In order to proceed with this idea I can no longer rely on speculation as to why other people do or do not use alcohol, I can only state the options and dilemmas and the justification of those options and dilemmas which I encounter in the face of alcohol consumption.
Before I can effectively carry on I feel that I must give a brief personal description allowing you to see how and why I come to the conclusions that will state in this text.
I am inherently somewhat shy and self conscious. I am not a physically imposing person and I am not over confident in my abilities. Instead I hold a self doubting and critical viewpoint in relation to my self and the society in which I reside. Because I am not a physical presence I tend to play to my strengths ( which I believe everyone does in some sense ) and seek virtuosity in the realm of cognitive function.
Humans tend to be social creatures, we enjoy conversing with each other, experiencing with each other and just existing in each other's presence. When I put myself in social situations I have the tendency feel anxious, to question what others may think negatively about about my ideas and to simply disclude myself from verbal communication for fear of ridicule. Of course I do not openly show these attributes because I do not want to be perceived as having weakness, what I do instead is put on a sort of act. I pretend that things that bother me do not, I share in the beliefs of others when inside I may question them, I try to project strength, coolness, happiness, and adjustedness because I think that is what people want to see and I myself want to have seen so that I may pass under the radar of society and not be singled out as different . This I think is a common technique of intellectuals for survival in the social world stemming from the desire of human beings to feel a fitting in and connectedness to the space they inhabit.
Through early life and most of school alcohol does not really embody a factor in social interaction until highschool when one becomes aware of the party scene. The party scene is a very peculiar thing that places value in unusual places. For instance, this scene imparts honor on people who can drink the highest amount of an intoxicating beverage in the shortest duration of time and still remain standing. Even if you can not remain in an upright position and your body induces profuse spewing from the mouth your actions are simply dismissed as comical, set aside as inevitable in the grand scheme of things and forgotten. Accolades are imparted on those who are the loudest, strongest and most obnoxious, while quiet, questioning intellectual individuals are ostracized. This sub-culture is a funny one indeed. This is highschoolean popular culture as I know it. You may come from a different place at a different time where this was or is not the norm, and so you may reject my ideas, I only wish to convey experience as a tool to allow like minds to converge.
The goal of admiration among peers I think is quite high on the to do list of the average person. To feel validation and acceptance is quite an attractive prospect and I myself am rather attracted to it, even though I think that sometimes the easiest way to a possible outcome is not necessarily the best I still sometimes feel like a moth drawn to the flame. Of which I can conceive there are two possible ways to gain respect from ones peers: The first is to defy, reject and bend the wills of those around you collecting disciples who will follow you down your intellectual journey, or to blindly submit to the excepted notions of your time and place. The first of this duality requires much laborious effort, uncertainty and quite possible alienation while the latter requires only hollow belief, self compromisation and offers unwavering acceptance. This poses quite a quandary, and one that I think has plagued many encompassing all time and location. Do you become the self righteous, cynical, misunderstood intellectual, or the slack-jawed, all-accepting un-questioning automaton? The choice is ultimately yours, choose wisely though because the implications are dire.
Now to my dilemmatic options regarding social alcoholiastic tendensations.
I. My first means to an end concerning alcoholiastic tendensations is to simply deliver myself to the ways of the party scene, surrendering my beliefs and embracing the beliefs of the of the whole of alcohol sub-culture.
II. My second ends to a mean is to place myself in a party situation absent of alcohol being just an observer of the current state of affairs. This option is a lonely and disconnected one for I do not feel a connection to the whole based solely on my chemical difference in opposition to the group.
III. My third option is to disclude my self from the party going scene indefinitely eliminating all social contact and forcing myself to drift in my own imagined belief system.
IV. In the final option I can factualize myself moving completely from the party sub-culture, and erasing all of its beliefs intending to use for alcohol for it's cathartic and self realizing psychoactive effects in order to utilize it for my own selfish purposes.
The choice is is mine and it is yours, I am not here to guide you down a path or to even open you up to the path but to simply say that there is a path, choose it as you may. Insanity can be defined as repeating the same pattern over and over again expecting a different result
Question everything and assume nothing and remember that there is no knowledge without experience.
I believe the reason people first choose to consume alcohol is simply for the fact that it is a culturally sanctioned substance, it is in a sense a rite of passage for young people making the transition from childhood to adulthood (in fact it is one of the select few rites of passage practiced in 21st century North American culture). This first taste of alcohol gives people a vague understanding of the effects, the advantages and disadvantages and the social etiquette accompanying it. From this point on people will choose to either incorporate or disclude alcohol intoxication from their lives.
In order to proceed with this idea I can no longer rely on speculation as to why other people do or do not use alcohol, I can only state the options and dilemmas and the justification of those options and dilemmas which I encounter in the face of alcohol consumption.
Before I can effectively carry on I feel that I must give a brief personal description allowing you to see how and why I come to the conclusions that will state in this text.
I am inherently somewhat shy and self conscious. I am not a physically imposing person and I am not over confident in my abilities. Instead I hold a self doubting and critical viewpoint in relation to my self and the society in which I reside. Because I am not a physical presence I tend to play to my strengths ( which I believe everyone does in some sense ) and seek virtuosity in the realm of cognitive function.
Humans tend to be social creatures, we enjoy conversing with each other, experiencing with each other and just existing in each other's presence. When I put myself in social situations I have the tendency feel anxious, to question what others may think negatively about about my ideas and to simply disclude myself from verbal communication for fear of ridicule. Of course I do not openly show these attributes because I do not want to be perceived as having weakness, what I do instead is put on a sort of act. I pretend that things that bother me do not, I share in the beliefs of others when inside I may question them, I try to project strength, coolness, happiness, and adjustedness because I think that is what people want to see and I myself want to have seen so that I may pass under the radar of society and not be singled out as different . This I think is a common technique of intellectuals for survival in the social world stemming from the desire of human beings to feel a fitting in and connectedness to the space they inhabit.
Through early life and most of school alcohol does not really embody a factor in social interaction until highschool when one becomes aware of the party scene. The party scene is a very peculiar thing that places value in unusual places. For instance, this scene imparts honor on people who can drink the highest amount of an intoxicating beverage in the shortest duration of time and still remain standing. Even if you can not remain in an upright position and your body induces profuse spewing from the mouth your actions are simply dismissed as comical, set aside as inevitable in the grand scheme of things and forgotten. Accolades are imparted on those who are the loudest, strongest and most obnoxious, while quiet, questioning intellectual individuals are ostracized. This sub-culture is a funny one indeed. This is highschoolean popular culture as I know it. You may come from a different place at a different time where this was or is not the norm, and so you may reject my ideas, I only wish to convey experience as a tool to allow like minds to converge.
The goal of admiration among peers I think is quite high on the to do list of the average person. To feel validation and acceptance is quite an attractive prospect and I myself am rather attracted to it, even though I think that sometimes the easiest way to a possible outcome is not necessarily the best I still sometimes feel like a moth drawn to the flame. Of which I can conceive there are two possible ways to gain respect from ones peers: The first is to defy, reject and bend the wills of those around you collecting disciples who will follow you down your intellectual journey, or to blindly submit to the excepted notions of your time and place. The first of this duality requires much laborious effort, uncertainty and quite possible alienation while the latter requires only hollow belief, self compromisation and offers unwavering acceptance. This poses quite a quandary, and one that I think has plagued many encompassing all time and location. Do you become the self righteous, cynical, misunderstood intellectual, or the slack-jawed, all-accepting un-questioning automaton? The choice is ultimately yours, choose wisely though because the implications are dire.
Now to my dilemmatic options regarding social alcoholiastic tendensations.
I. My first means to an end concerning alcoholiastic tendensations is to simply deliver myself to the ways of the party scene, surrendering my beliefs and embracing the beliefs of the of the whole of alcohol sub-culture.
II. My second ends to a mean is to place myself in a party situation absent of alcohol being just an observer of the current state of affairs. This option is a lonely and disconnected one for I do not feel a connection to the whole based solely on my chemical difference in opposition to the group.
III. My third option is to disclude my self from the party going scene indefinitely eliminating all social contact and forcing myself to drift in my own imagined belief system.
IV. In the final option I can factualize myself moving completely from the party sub-culture, and erasing all of its beliefs intending to use for alcohol for it's cathartic and self realizing psychoactive effects in order to utilize it for my own selfish purposes.
The choice is is mine and it is yours, I am not here to guide you down a path or to even open you up to the path but to simply say that there is a path, choose it as you may. Insanity can be defined as repeating the same pattern over and over again expecting a different result
Question everything and assume nothing and remember that there is no knowledge without experience.
I think tyrosine is slowly saving my life, its slowly making me feel half-human again. Neuroephedrine ftw!
I really don't care much about anything. Just gotta wait and see. I'm still working on getting into rehab soon.
We'll see...
I'm having a hard time figuring out what happened with me and 'M'. I understand what the reasoning is, I lied about using which violated our trust. This is something that was fixable. She decided it was too much for her and turned her back.
She was probably looking for an out and I handed her one. It just seems like it is so easy for her to walk away.
I'm going to miss her for a long time.
We'll see...
I'm having a hard time figuring out what happened with me and 'M'. I understand what the reasoning is, I lied about using which violated our trust. This is something that was fixable. She decided it was too much for her and turned her back.
She was probably looking for an out and I handed her one. It just seems like it is so easy for her to walk away.
I'm going to miss her for a long time.
So if any of you guys have read any of my old journal entries you'll see that i did try to quit dope. I was in such a miserable placethat i honestly thought i was all better right away.
I relapsed so many times. I did indeed relapse after my last journal entry. I figured Ishould start keeping a new online journal on this blog. It'll prob help me, and could posssibly help another addict.
Right now I am seven months clean. It's a freakin miracle. I relapsed so bad this last time after I started going to N.A. that i ended up suicidal in the hospitals's psych ward. I had a psychotic episode bought on by wihdrawels that led the staff and security to throw me into seclusion, then chain me to the bed in four-point restraints.
Now I am on suboxone. Not a lot of people agree on it but it helps me and it actually keeps me clean. This recovery stuff is not easy. Yea keeping it simple is an easy concept, but living an honest program takes a lot of honesty,openmindedness, and willingness.
It'd be a good idea for me to try to log on to this journal more often and share my experiences, strengths, an hope.
For now I will go,but one last note that I have to say is: if you're a junkie, read "the herion diaries" by Nikki Sixx, the bassist from Motley Crue. You will not believe how much the average person can relate with a rockstar, simply because we are all addicts.![:\](https://bluelight.org/xf/BL_Images/Orig_Emoji/wrygrin.gif "wry grin :\")
I relapsed so many times. I did indeed relapse after my last journal entry. I figured Ishould start keeping a new online journal on this blog. It'll prob help me, and could posssibly help another addict.
Right now I am seven months clean. It's a freakin miracle. I relapsed so bad this last time after I started going to N.A. that i ended up suicidal in the hospitals's psych ward. I had a psychotic episode bought on by wihdrawels that led the staff and security to throw me into seclusion, then chain me to the bed in four-point restraints.
Now I am on suboxone. Not a lot of people agree on it but it helps me and it actually keeps me clean. This recovery stuff is not easy. Yea keeping it simple is an easy concept, but living an honest program takes a lot of honesty,openmindedness, and willingness.
It'd be a good idea for me to try to log on to this journal more often and share my experiences, strengths, an hope.
For now I will go,but one last note that I have to say is: if you're a junkie, read "the herion diaries" by Nikki Sixx, the bassist from Motley Crue. You will not believe how much the average person can relate with a rockstar, simply because we are all addicts.
I think I bring a lot of my depression upon myself. Feeling like "poor me" because my husband's gone, I'm 800 miles away from family, and I get overwhelmed raising our 2 children by myself, at least for now.
I need to concentrate on what is good in my life. Make a list of everything I have to be grateful for. I'm also going back on my meds, Wellbutrin and Prozac... I probably shouldn't have gone off of them.
What I am grateful for:
* I have a wonderful husband who loves me, and would do anything for me. He is my rock, and I love him with all my heart. We've just celebrated our 4th anniversary (though he was in Iraq for that), and I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with him.
* I have 2 healthy children, though they drive me nuts at times. I love them, and am truly happy I have them.
* I do have some education, I'm an LPN, even though that's a long way from being a nurse practitioner, its more than some have.
* We are financially secure. Finally. This deployment has sucked, but at least the pay is good. We've bought a new car (paid in cash!!!) and paid off debt, and still have a decent savings. Its nice not to live paycheck to paycheck anymore.
* I have family who loves and supports me. I should lean on them more, but I don't like worrying them.
* In less than 2 weeks I'll be at my sister-in-law's, and won't have to be alone all summer. I'll be surrounded by people who understand me, know the struggles I've dealt with, and will help me become more in control of my addictions.
* And my husband has been ordered to drill sergeant school when he comes home! I can't wait, that'll be 3 years that he's non-deployable. The hours suck, but its a hell of a lot better than him being gone for 12 months.
I think those are the main things. I'm human, so I can't expect to always look at the glass as half-full, I know I'll have another feel sorry for myself day, but that's okay. I feel that writing (typing, really) this all down will help me deal with my emotions better. At least I hope it will.
~October
I need to concentrate on what is good in my life. Make a list of everything I have to be grateful for. I'm also going back on my meds, Wellbutrin and Prozac... I probably shouldn't have gone off of them.
What I am grateful for:
* I have a wonderful husband who loves me, and would do anything for me. He is my rock, and I love him with all my heart. We've just celebrated our 4th anniversary (though he was in Iraq for that), and I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with him.
* I have 2 healthy children, though they drive me nuts at times. I love them, and am truly happy I have them.
* I do have some education, I'm an LPN, even though that's a long way from being a nurse practitioner, its more than some have.
* We are financially secure. Finally. This deployment has sucked, but at least the pay is good. We've bought a new car (paid in cash!!!) and paid off debt, and still have a decent savings. Its nice not to live paycheck to paycheck anymore.
* I have family who loves and supports me. I should lean on them more, but I don't like worrying them.
* In less than 2 weeks I'll be at my sister-in-law's, and won't have to be alone all summer. I'll be surrounded by people who understand me, know the struggles I've dealt with, and will help me become more in control of my addictions.
* And my husband has been ordered to drill sergeant school when he comes home! I can't wait, that'll be 3 years that he's non-deployable. The hours suck, but its a hell of a lot better than him being gone for 12 months.
I think those are the main things. I'm human, so I can't expect to always look at the glass as half-full, I know I'll have another feel sorry for myself day, but that's okay. I feel that writing (typing, really) this all down will help me deal with my emotions better. At least I hope it will.
~October
To my multiple addictions, past and present-
Coke- you fucked up my life. i left everything and everyone i loved because of you. you made me degrade myself by stripping for cash, all those men i let see my body, just for a few extra bucks to buy another bag. you brought me to my rock bottom, but i BEAT YOU!!! and no matter how bad the temptation gets, i'm not going to have anything to do with you ever again. I haven't seen you in over 2 years now, and I hope to not see you for the rest of my life!!!
Opiates- you snuck into my life so slyly, i didn't even realize it. All those doctors giving me meds for every little ache and pain... then you took over, and I made up more and more aches and pains to get you. Chasing after you has fucked up my health insurance, and god knows what you've done to my liver. At the end, you just made me feel like shit. And I thank you for that. You didn't give me the high I wanted anymore, and that made it so much easier to turn my back on you. I left you just over a month ago, and I have no regrets. You suck!
Adderall- You're the one that keeps sucking me in. I binge on you for weeks, then am left depressed, and so fucking tired. I don't know how many times I've been on the verge of a heart attack because of you. I HATE YOU!!! Over the next 3 months I'll have no access to you, and I hope I can become strong enough to say no to you when I return. I hate you I hate you I hate you! You make me hate myself because of the weaknesses you bring out in me. I've finally recovered from my last binge, and I hope to god that that was my LAST binge, period. I want nothing to do with you ever again. Get out of my life!!!!!
~ October
Coke- you fucked up my life. i left everything and everyone i loved because of you. you made me degrade myself by stripping for cash, all those men i let see my body, just for a few extra bucks to buy another bag. you brought me to my rock bottom, but i BEAT YOU!!! and no matter how bad the temptation gets, i'm not going to have anything to do with you ever again. I haven't seen you in over 2 years now, and I hope to not see you for the rest of my life!!!
Opiates- you snuck into my life so slyly, i didn't even realize it. All those doctors giving me meds for every little ache and pain... then you took over, and I made up more and more aches and pains to get you. Chasing after you has fucked up my health insurance, and god knows what you've done to my liver. At the end, you just made me feel like shit. And I thank you for that. You didn't give me the high I wanted anymore, and that made it so much easier to turn my back on you. I left you just over a month ago, and I have no regrets. You suck!
Adderall- You're the one that keeps sucking me in. I binge on you for weeks, then am left depressed, and so fucking tired. I don't know how many times I've been on the verge of a heart attack because of you. I HATE YOU!!! Over the next 3 months I'll have no access to you, and I hope I can become strong enough to say no to you when I return. I hate you I hate you I hate you! You make me hate myself because of the weaknesses you bring out in me. I've finally recovered from my last binge, and I hope to god that that was my LAST binge, period. I want nothing to do with you ever again. Get out of my life!!!!!
~ October
5/26/2009
Am feeling like a complete fucking idiot after what happened and quite numb. I was totally hustled and fucked out of a large chuck of $ (by my standards) and what gets me is that I gave those smack heads $15 to go buy smack. It’s never enough. The greed, never ending need, unfuckingbelievable. As I said before though, I don’t care what their story is, but fucking Don goes and gives $60 for a dime bag so he can supposedly go “reup?” Whatever. Granted, Don did spend 8 and a ½ fucking hrs waiting for the fool in the barrio, trying to call too, but the point is, “Dude if all he said he had was a 20, then just take the 20, give me the 20 bag, but DON’T give him all my goddamned money, I’m pissed, this is bullshit, even if Don is telling the truth, I can’t believe someone is THAT damn dumb.
Had I not been on the damn acid, I’d have NOT found any humor in the situation at all, but again, this is it. No more giving them $10-20 for them 2 take care of me, then STILL get fucked dry….shakes head, sighs. I NEVER had this horseshit go down when I did my own business, NEVER. Yet, I still find myself getting ripped off, making dumb decisions because I’m high, (my weak point) which in the past was always why I’d score directly from whoever, and most of the time head straight to my pad to party. Alone. That way none of this shit ever happened, unless I planned on company and wanted it, but whatever. Am not happy bout being out of $70 and only a $10 bag I got out of it. My fault, but lucky me, get to go through these fucked up W/D’s, thanks guys after spending $ for nothing almost.
This means forced sobriety off meth, or otherwise, sometimes Linda who is actually honest will front me a $20 if she has it, so when I get off work some Tuesdays, she has it ready for me. Aimee and Don, fucking get screwed into an 8 hr wait, as I told Don, “Dude how many fuckin times I told u, do NOT even bother if it’s gonna take til the 2nd coming! Again, whatever. Am very disappointed in those 2 scandalous fuckers, but I did give my problem some thought. Fuck these assholes, I’ll just make an appointment with my Dr., she can see that I’m still 50 or 60 lbs overweight, yes even though all the junkie men tell me I’m very beautiful now in spite of the extra weight because I did drop about 50 lbs, and can wear pretty clothes.
It’s even some normie males that I get attention from walking down the street these days when I dress nice. I’m flattered and happy about that. Brendan LOVES how I look, even better than when I was a respectable size 8. To each his own, but the point is that the doc has a clear record of this God awful obesity over the past 2 and ½ years once I kicked all dope the first time for that amount of time. She was concerned that my B/P was too high when I was clean and 100 lbs obese, but since taking the water pills she gave me, the high B/P is gone. Obviously if I’m not doing shit, it won’t be high at this weight, sooooo seeing as how it’s disgustingly easy to gain 10 lbs in 10 days, I can schedule a doc visit, tell the doc I need help losing weight, maybe she’ll right me an Rx for phentermine.
Even if it’s only 30 pills at a time every 4-6 months, it will help keep me from turning back into a beached fucking whale, good Christ. I’m 80% sure she would Rx me seeing as how I have an obvious need for them, it’s not like I’m some poor malnourished bitch from the Gestapo Camp Heil fucking Hitler, as Lord knows I have plenty of visable lard to spare……so perhaps no more meth, but tone it down to plain amphetamine every so often to lose weight…..legally….and besides actually doing it for a legit medical purpose…..I can just casually tell everyone with a polite smile to go fuck themselves and their scandalous deals can be shoved far up their constipated smack infested assholes…..I’m done. Dunno if they did or didn’t fuck me, will never know, but I will only deal with Linda, if at all anymore and no more than a 20….or I’ll take nothing.
Another forced 12 days or more off speed….the lesser, weaker Rx amphetamine will still work for me and do the trick, only without me getting ripped off, and without this whole sadness going down with my Mom as well. I was sad too, when I got a message from my old sponsor on my space, saying she will always love me no matter what, and she will. Sadly, I’m going to have to email telling her I love her back, but as she most likely guessed by now, I relapsed on Rx painkillers a couple months back. I see no reason to go into any more detail, as that is quite enough, but I cannot go on ignoring her, as I’m not a cruel person. Her heart will be broken, she will cry when she reads the email, but real friends deserve honesty and I will have to write her “there is nothing more you could have done to help me, so please don’t EVER feel that way. It’s like NA says, that addiction is a very clever, patient disease so to speak that did a hell of a job weaseling it’s way right back into my veins.
The Tramadol was too brutal for me to kick when being forced to have to deal with patients, it was HORRIBLE because I felt like crap for months, so eventually I said fuck it, went back to my real painkillers, just to be able to tolerate an easier kick, eventually, if at all. It’s VERY difficult too, as kicking now at 44 is A LOT harder than it was kicking at age 30, and even THAT was no picnic, but it gets soo much harder…If I could take time off work without suffering loss of income, which I would, that would be different, but that’s NOT the case, and I allowed my addiction to weasel it’s way right back into my life, DAMN that was clever how it did that. Mom and family are all ready aware of me breaking my sobriety with the pain pills, of course, in fact, Mom broken hearted said that there were some people that did have to take pills the rest of their lives, and while it makes her sad, she realizes that it is doable.
I do hope that I manage to reduce the intake by 2/3s for good, and hell even at my current high dose of pills now, aside from taking them for legitimate pain….it would act as an opiate replacement therapy, just like some people take Methadone. Am hoping too, that with the Rx phentermine, assuming she says ok, same thing. The dope will be legal, managed, and used for legit legal, medical issues as well. So, that’s my plan. I won’t go into it expecting that she will write the diet pills every so often, but there’s a good chance she might seeing as how she had been willing to before had my B/P been stable. Who the fuck knows, perhaps I might have another stretch of sobriety in the future, never say never. At this point, I would be QUITE happy with a month supply of diet pills every 12-16 wks to manage my weight. Off meth for 12 days, it was hard, but I did limit my meals to every 12 hrs, and no huge portions, though it aggravates me like hell how difficult that was. Sigh. I fucking don’t even want to be bothered with work today, my feelings are hurt, I hate lying to my Mom, and in the long run, quitting meth would be better for me anyway, even if I took a lesser, legal drug. I am so sad things happened the way they did. I feel betrayed, but I also feel a knife in my heart every time I have to deal with Mom over this meth business. Meth head Susie once told me I wasn’t the “scandalous” type. Aimee got upset with me for referring to myself as a “hooker” when I worked the streets for a short time or the escort agencies to pay for drugs.
“You have a HUGE heart, Tanya,” Aimee told me. “I’ve been in prison many years and a hooker to me is someone that will take someone’s every last dime, nickel, and penny for a hit of crack…YOU ARE NOT LIKE THAT AND YOU NEVER WERE!” I didn’t think of it that way, only as an honest way to make money instead of ripping people off, or even selling drugs (that never lasted long.) I love that Aimee can love me, talk to me that way, not even Mom cannot. When I’m using, all she see’s is a person that feels crappy going through W/D’s wanting to be left alone. Sigh. True, but around other addicts, they see my sweet side too, that the chemicals bring out, not just the sickness. When I am high around others that don’t use, I do whatever I can to keep that shit to myself, out of self preservation and to avoid observations/questions…..part of the effort required living a double life. Sad smile. I’m trying to heal my emotional damage. I’m really NOT a cold, mean, person….but I doubt most non addicts can ever really understand that….I’m trying to heal though…sometimes I can even help others, usually strangers with kind words perhaps, or insight, or listening without judgment to soooo many confessions of other’s psychic wounds…..especially at night, those that are under my care often times tell way more than they ever thought they would….I don’t always have answers, but I try to listen without judgment…..
So that’s it for now about me and my demons. The older I get, the more it seems I don’t know….but in my experience, it appears to me that everyone has varying degrees of some forms of mental illness, whatever form they might take…
Am feeling like a complete fucking idiot after what happened and quite numb. I was totally hustled and fucked out of a large chuck of $ (by my standards) and what gets me is that I gave those smack heads $15 to go buy smack. It’s never enough. The greed, never ending need, unfuckingbelievable. As I said before though, I don’t care what their story is, but fucking Don goes and gives $60 for a dime bag so he can supposedly go “reup?” Whatever. Granted, Don did spend 8 and a ½ fucking hrs waiting for the fool in the barrio, trying to call too, but the point is, “Dude if all he said he had was a 20, then just take the 20, give me the 20 bag, but DON’T give him all my goddamned money, I’m pissed, this is bullshit, even if Don is telling the truth, I can’t believe someone is THAT damn dumb.
Had I not been on the damn acid, I’d have NOT found any humor in the situation at all, but again, this is it. No more giving them $10-20 for them 2 take care of me, then STILL get fucked dry….shakes head, sighs. I NEVER had this horseshit go down when I did my own business, NEVER. Yet, I still find myself getting ripped off, making dumb decisions because I’m high, (my weak point) which in the past was always why I’d score directly from whoever, and most of the time head straight to my pad to party. Alone. That way none of this shit ever happened, unless I planned on company and wanted it, but whatever. Am not happy bout being out of $70 and only a $10 bag I got out of it. My fault, but lucky me, get to go through these fucked up W/D’s, thanks guys after spending $ for nothing almost.
This means forced sobriety off meth, or otherwise, sometimes Linda who is actually honest will front me a $20 if she has it, so when I get off work some Tuesdays, she has it ready for me. Aimee and Don, fucking get screwed into an 8 hr wait, as I told Don, “Dude how many fuckin times I told u, do NOT even bother if it’s gonna take til the 2nd coming! Again, whatever. Am very disappointed in those 2 scandalous fuckers, but I did give my problem some thought. Fuck these assholes, I’ll just make an appointment with my Dr., she can see that I’m still 50 or 60 lbs overweight, yes even though all the junkie men tell me I’m very beautiful now in spite of the extra weight because I did drop about 50 lbs, and can wear pretty clothes.
It’s even some normie males that I get attention from walking down the street these days when I dress nice. I’m flattered and happy about that. Brendan LOVES how I look, even better than when I was a respectable size 8. To each his own, but the point is that the doc has a clear record of this God awful obesity over the past 2 and ½ years once I kicked all dope the first time for that amount of time. She was concerned that my B/P was too high when I was clean and 100 lbs obese, but since taking the water pills she gave me, the high B/P is gone. Obviously if I’m not doing shit, it won’t be high at this weight, sooooo seeing as how it’s disgustingly easy to gain 10 lbs in 10 days, I can schedule a doc visit, tell the doc I need help losing weight, maybe she’ll right me an Rx for phentermine.
Even if it’s only 30 pills at a time every 4-6 months, it will help keep me from turning back into a beached fucking whale, good Christ. I’m 80% sure she would Rx me seeing as how I have an obvious need for them, it’s not like I’m some poor malnourished bitch from the Gestapo Camp Heil fucking Hitler, as Lord knows I have plenty of visable lard to spare……so perhaps no more meth, but tone it down to plain amphetamine every so often to lose weight…..legally….and besides actually doing it for a legit medical purpose…..I can just casually tell everyone with a polite smile to go fuck themselves and their scandalous deals can be shoved far up their constipated smack infested assholes…..I’m done. Dunno if they did or didn’t fuck me, will never know, but I will only deal with Linda, if at all anymore and no more than a 20….or I’ll take nothing.
Another forced 12 days or more off speed….the lesser, weaker Rx amphetamine will still work for me and do the trick, only without me getting ripped off, and without this whole sadness going down with my Mom as well. I was sad too, when I got a message from my old sponsor on my space, saying she will always love me no matter what, and she will. Sadly, I’m going to have to email telling her I love her back, but as she most likely guessed by now, I relapsed on Rx painkillers a couple months back. I see no reason to go into any more detail, as that is quite enough, but I cannot go on ignoring her, as I’m not a cruel person. Her heart will be broken, she will cry when she reads the email, but real friends deserve honesty and I will have to write her “there is nothing more you could have done to help me, so please don’t EVER feel that way. It’s like NA says, that addiction is a very clever, patient disease so to speak that did a hell of a job weaseling it’s way right back into my veins.
The Tramadol was too brutal for me to kick when being forced to have to deal with patients, it was HORRIBLE because I felt like crap for months, so eventually I said fuck it, went back to my real painkillers, just to be able to tolerate an easier kick, eventually, if at all. It’s VERY difficult too, as kicking now at 44 is A LOT harder than it was kicking at age 30, and even THAT was no picnic, but it gets soo much harder…If I could take time off work without suffering loss of income, which I would, that would be different, but that’s NOT the case, and I allowed my addiction to weasel it’s way right back into my life, DAMN that was clever how it did that. Mom and family are all ready aware of me breaking my sobriety with the pain pills, of course, in fact, Mom broken hearted said that there were some people that did have to take pills the rest of their lives, and while it makes her sad, she realizes that it is doable.
I do hope that I manage to reduce the intake by 2/3s for good, and hell even at my current high dose of pills now, aside from taking them for legitimate pain….it would act as an opiate replacement therapy, just like some people take Methadone. Am hoping too, that with the Rx phentermine, assuming she says ok, same thing. The dope will be legal, managed, and used for legit legal, medical issues as well. So, that’s my plan. I won’t go into it expecting that she will write the diet pills every so often, but there’s a good chance she might seeing as how she had been willing to before had my B/P been stable. Who the fuck knows, perhaps I might have another stretch of sobriety in the future, never say never. At this point, I would be QUITE happy with a month supply of diet pills every 12-16 wks to manage my weight. Off meth for 12 days, it was hard, but I did limit my meals to every 12 hrs, and no huge portions, though it aggravates me like hell how difficult that was. Sigh. I fucking don’t even want to be bothered with work today, my feelings are hurt, I hate lying to my Mom, and in the long run, quitting meth would be better for me anyway, even if I took a lesser, legal drug. I am so sad things happened the way they did. I feel betrayed, but I also feel a knife in my heart every time I have to deal with Mom over this meth business. Meth head Susie once told me I wasn’t the “scandalous” type. Aimee got upset with me for referring to myself as a “hooker” when I worked the streets for a short time or the escort agencies to pay for drugs.
“You have a HUGE heart, Tanya,” Aimee told me. “I’ve been in prison many years and a hooker to me is someone that will take someone’s every last dime, nickel, and penny for a hit of crack…YOU ARE NOT LIKE THAT AND YOU NEVER WERE!” I didn’t think of it that way, only as an honest way to make money instead of ripping people off, or even selling drugs (that never lasted long.) I love that Aimee can love me, talk to me that way, not even Mom cannot. When I’m using, all she see’s is a person that feels crappy going through W/D’s wanting to be left alone. Sigh. True, but around other addicts, they see my sweet side too, that the chemicals bring out, not just the sickness. When I am high around others that don’t use, I do whatever I can to keep that shit to myself, out of self preservation and to avoid observations/questions…..part of the effort required living a double life. Sad smile. I’m trying to heal my emotional damage. I’m really NOT a cold, mean, person….but I doubt most non addicts can ever really understand that….I’m trying to heal though…sometimes I can even help others, usually strangers with kind words perhaps, or insight, or listening without judgment to soooo many confessions of other’s psychic wounds…..especially at night, those that are under my care often times tell way more than they ever thought they would….I don’t always have answers, but I try to listen without judgment…..
So that’s it for now about me and my demons. The older I get, the more it seems I don’t know….but in my experience, it appears to me that everyone has varying degrees of some forms of mental illness, whatever form they might take…
You would not BELIEVE this motherfucking SURREAL day I've had.....hell I almost don't believe it, then again, notice I said ALMOST? That's for the same reason you'll guessed folks. That the life of yours truly, one Tanya T has never been anything BUT a very vivid Pulp Non Fiction type of story, unlike my very famous, talented, but not even close to livin on the edge as his very real half sister. Yours truly fuckin doesn't need a fiction writer with a bizarre mind to make shit up because my life is so off the wall it doesn't NEED to be made up, and trust me to your last dollar, it is not.
Before we go any further, how do you say "fuck you" in LA? Trust me, haha. That's exactly the theme that sums up this whole insanity in 2 words. "Fuck you" and "trust me." I gotta see the funny side of shit though, and truthfully what made that possible was the fact my very dear friend and fiance Erik sent me one hell of a motherfucker of a trip! And then some. I don't think I have the time to write like I want, but cut to the chase, I spent $70 for a quantity of some good shit right.....I got a motherfuckin dime, haha, joke's on me. The reason is that unlike 2 1/2 yrs ago, so much has changed. I NO longer have direct connects. I have junkies and tweekers for middle men and I got fucked up the ass dry w/o lubrication. Still, I'm a long time veteran junkie, I know how it goes.
I may or may not have been hussled and played like the fool by my friends but even so with well meaning hearts. Dunno if they got fucked, or they're fuckin me, it don't even matter. I took a 1/4 of the trip paper from Kupid, which according to him was 2 hits. Damn good thing I asked a few blogs ago, otherwise I would have done 1/2 of the tab doing 4 hits. Erik, did not lie. That shit knocked me way hard and fast on my ass and then some. I still need to kick back and trip alone in order to get the info I want from these trips, but you know what? I hold nothing against what anyone of them may or may not have done. I was able to laugh about it and say, "Well, at this rate, I guess you guys r gonna cure me of my tweek habit REAL quick." It's true. I spent $70 I don't have to get high, got a dime, shot my shit, at least it worked.
The trip made me see life in it's proper perspective though believe it or not. That's the thing. This trip showed me that I tend to let stupid bullshit make me angry and that there really is no need. It's harder to see and understand that perspective, especially when 12 days sober off meth, wanting sleep 24/7, in spite of the painkillers I've been taking to help ease off the speed. I do know this, I was treated like royalty at Grand Junkie Central Inn for the day/night. "Ah Tanya need ice water? Tanya need cold cloth? Tanya want me to shoot her? Tanya want the fan on?" It was sweet in a way. "Tanya want these sunglasses?" They were the expensive kind, over $100, a pair. "Sure bout that? Really?" "Take them." I may or may not get compensated tomorrow or the next day. Not counting on it.
If it happens fine, if not, I won't have my panties in a wad over stupid bullshit, but damn that means I'll have to quit or find another direct source....Fuck it....don't really know....Had a fun day, went by fast. although I did TOO much acid, those 2 hits were fuckin mega tripn me over the top. I saw shitloads of pastel, bright colors when I'd shut my eyes and the image of whoever I was lookin at was burned into my vision in bright pastels. I told Linda also, that, "I feel as if I'm going into labor, that everytime people come and go in and out of this trip, they are contractions and I feel compelled to push." Linda said, "I know what you mean." "Do you? Did you have to suffer labor at all?" "Yes, 4 or 5 hrs," she said. When in serious pain, that is a long ass fuckin time.
Mom had 26 hrs of hard labor with me, poor thing, but they refused to do C section. And when I terminated a pregnancy back in 1990, it took 3 days to pass, I felt contractions, and it HURT like hell. I found out years later the Tarantino women all had to have C sections cause we're not built to pass a child. Mom was the same way, so I got a double damn dose, fuck. If I'd of had the kid, he'd probably been more brain damaged than I was at birth.....so it's just as well. Neurosurgeon told me I could only ever have C section, otherwise, my birth defect of hydrocephalus could rupture causing severe brain damage, coma, and death. I came into this world damaged goods, my head is my weakness, and had I tried to deliver a normal pregnancy back in 1991.....it would not have been good.
So I wonder in retrospect if these contractions I felt during this trip meant anything....Like deal with people, deal with human issues and expel them, or else I'll just have unresolved damage to try to heal in another life time....No thanks, it's easier to get as much pain and crap over with at once as possible. Still, when I'm not on acid, that doesn't FEEL easy at all. I just want the easy way out, to swallow a handfull of pain pills, park the car in some tight space, let the engine run, go to sleep, nice long slumber of oblivion sounds seductive.....except I know it's a lie. Life is never created, or destroyed, only changes the form it takes which is YOU however you spell it. There is no way out of life. Death is not an escape, although how I've sooo longed for it to be so many times.....
I've always been so much better at running from uncomfortable or painful shit I didn't know how to deal with, rather than take the more difficult way and face, deal, and resolve them. I've been a runner my entire life. I've read that a junkie is nothing more than an experienced escape artist.....In my case it's soooo true. So, for today, I don't have 2 worry about w/d's. Tomorrow? Who knows. I'll let it take care of itself. Half the battle of kicking is being able to accept the fact that there is no way around it, and that I will have to get through it, pain or no pain, fatigue or no fatigue. W/D's, the thought of them make me wail and moan for the fact I'm gonna hurt like hell being separated from the chemical suggestion of ecstasy and bliss. That's a hard damned lover to let go of....as if I lost a 25 year marriage....that's how I felt when I was separated from Mr. Prick for 2 and 1/2 years. The pain, the longing, how I miss him....
Before we go any further, how do you say "fuck you" in LA? Trust me, haha. That's exactly the theme that sums up this whole insanity in 2 words. "Fuck you" and "trust me." I gotta see the funny side of shit though, and truthfully what made that possible was the fact my very dear friend and fiance Erik sent me one hell of a motherfucker of a trip! And then some. I don't think I have the time to write like I want, but cut to the chase, I spent $70 for a quantity of some good shit right.....I got a motherfuckin dime, haha, joke's on me. The reason is that unlike 2 1/2 yrs ago, so much has changed. I NO longer have direct connects. I have junkies and tweekers for middle men and I got fucked up the ass dry w/o lubrication. Still, I'm a long time veteran junkie, I know how it goes.
I may or may not have been hussled and played like the fool by my friends but even so with well meaning hearts. Dunno if they got fucked, or they're fuckin me, it don't even matter. I took a 1/4 of the trip paper from Kupid, which according to him was 2 hits. Damn good thing I asked a few blogs ago, otherwise I would have done 1/2 of the tab doing 4 hits. Erik, did not lie. That shit knocked me way hard and fast on my ass and then some. I still need to kick back and trip alone in order to get the info I want from these trips, but you know what? I hold nothing against what anyone of them may or may not have done. I was able to laugh about it and say, "Well, at this rate, I guess you guys r gonna cure me of my tweek habit REAL quick." It's true. I spent $70 I don't have to get high, got a dime, shot my shit, at least it worked.
The trip made me see life in it's proper perspective though believe it or not. That's the thing. This trip showed me that I tend to let stupid bullshit make me angry and that there really is no need. It's harder to see and understand that perspective, especially when 12 days sober off meth, wanting sleep 24/7, in spite of the painkillers I've been taking to help ease off the speed. I do know this, I was treated like royalty at Grand Junkie Central Inn for the day/night. "Ah Tanya need ice water? Tanya need cold cloth? Tanya want me to shoot her? Tanya want the fan on?" It was sweet in a way. "Tanya want these sunglasses?" They were the expensive kind, over $100, a pair. "Sure bout that? Really?" "Take them." I may or may not get compensated tomorrow or the next day. Not counting on it.
If it happens fine, if not, I won't have my panties in a wad over stupid bullshit, but damn that means I'll have to quit or find another direct source....Fuck it....don't really know....Had a fun day, went by fast. although I did TOO much acid, those 2 hits were fuckin mega tripn me over the top. I saw shitloads of pastel, bright colors when I'd shut my eyes and the image of whoever I was lookin at was burned into my vision in bright pastels. I told Linda also, that, "I feel as if I'm going into labor, that everytime people come and go in and out of this trip, they are contractions and I feel compelled to push." Linda said, "I know what you mean." "Do you? Did you have to suffer labor at all?" "Yes, 4 or 5 hrs," she said. When in serious pain, that is a long ass fuckin time.
Mom had 26 hrs of hard labor with me, poor thing, but they refused to do C section. And when I terminated a pregnancy back in 1990, it took 3 days to pass, I felt contractions, and it HURT like hell. I found out years later the Tarantino women all had to have C sections cause we're not built to pass a child. Mom was the same way, so I got a double damn dose, fuck. If I'd of had the kid, he'd probably been more brain damaged than I was at birth.....so it's just as well. Neurosurgeon told me I could only ever have C section, otherwise, my birth defect of hydrocephalus could rupture causing severe brain damage, coma, and death. I came into this world damaged goods, my head is my weakness, and had I tried to deliver a normal pregnancy back in 1991.....it would not have been good.
So I wonder in retrospect if these contractions I felt during this trip meant anything....Like deal with people, deal with human issues and expel them, or else I'll just have unresolved damage to try to heal in another life time....No thanks, it's easier to get as much pain and crap over with at once as possible. Still, when I'm not on acid, that doesn't FEEL easy at all. I just want the easy way out, to swallow a handfull of pain pills, park the car in some tight space, let the engine run, go to sleep, nice long slumber of oblivion sounds seductive.....except I know it's a lie. Life is never created, or destroyed, only changes the form it takes which is YOU however you spell it. There is no way out of life. Death is not an escape, although how I've sooo longed for it to be so many times.....
I've always been so much better at running from uncomfortable or painful shit I didn't know how to deal with, rather than take the more difficult way and face, deal, and resolve them. I've been a runner my entire life. I've read that a junkie is nothing more than an experienced escape artist.....In my case it's soooo true. So, for today, I don't have 2 worry about w/d's. Tomorrow? Who knows. I'll let it take care of itself. Half the battle of kicking is being able to accept the fact that there is no way around it, and that I will have to get through it, pain or no pain, fatigue or no fatigue. W/D's, the thought of them make me wail and moan for the fact I'm gonna hurt like hell being separated from the chemical suggestion of ecstasy and bliss. That's a hard damned lover to let go of....as if I lost a 25 year marriage....that's how I felt when I was separated from Mr. Prick for 2 and 1/2 years. The pain, the longing, how I miss him....
I go out to the kitchen to make myself another drink. I'm out of everything else and I'm hurting. She gives me shit about how I shouldn't be drinking alone in my room. I say 1. Its memorial. and 2. Just because you have family problems it doesn't make them mine (her dad is an alcoholic) She responds that they should be my problems. Well I told her, its not like I'm drunk. "But you shouldn't drink alone, not in my house you won't." Well its not like I have any friends to hang out and drink with and I'm not going to pay $3 a drink at a damn bar and its Memorial Day at 8pm.
God I just want to kill myself. Someone send me enough barbs to make it painless. If it goes down the drain with sean I swear I will fucking do it. I can't live without love...see DS rant. I hate myself and I just want to die....
God I just want to kill myself. Someone send me enough barbs to make it painless. If it goes down the drain with sean I swear I will fucking do it. I can't live without love...see DS rant. I hate myself and I just want to die....
I'm so tired of all of this. I hate being an addict. I'm grateful for what keeps me going off the deep end, but, at the same time, there are times when I want to remove those chains. It wouldn't make my life any better, it would make it worse.
Why did I decide to be a teen mom?! I love my husband, my life with him. But I also wish I could have experienced so much more. I wish I could have been a college student, living on campus, partying and cramming for mid-terms. But life didn't deal me those cards.
Its so much harder having to deal with all of this with no help. My husband is 1,000 miles away, in the fucking sandbox where we have to fear for his life daily. I only thank god that he doesn't know what I've been battling.
2 more weeks, I'll be with family. Smoke a joint or two, and hopefully calm the fuck down. I'm out of xanax, and, let me tell you, life sucks worse without it.
I'm not sure what I was trying to say with this. I guess I'm just going to take another temazepam, drink another beer, then fall asleep... at least when I'm sleeping life doesn't seem to suck quite so bad. Because it sucks right now like you couldn't believe.
~October
Why did I decide to be a teen mom?! I love my husband, my life with him. But I also wish I could have experienced so much more. I wish I could have been a college student, living on campus, partying and cramming for mid-terms. But life didn't deal me those cards.
Its so much harder having to deal with all of this with no help. My husband is 1,000 miles away, in the fucking sandbox where we have to fear for his life daily. I only thank god that he doesn't know what I've been battling.
2 more weeks, I'll be with family. Smoke a joint or two, and hopefully calm the fuck down. I'm out of xanax, and, let me tell you, life sucks worse without it.
I'm not sure what I was trying to say with this. I guess I'm just going to take another temazepam, drink another beer, then fall asleep... at least when I'm sleeping life doesn't seem to suck quite so bad. Because it sucks right now like you couldn't believe.
~October
It feels like Sean has just been avoiding me well for a long time. I know part of it was being all BPD because I quit taking my meds but I am now.
First he is sick for 3 days.
Then I can't because I need the extra hour of sleep for work and I never want to go home.
Today, I don't even have my evening classes, but he has to do homework for SEIDA.
ARE YOU SERIOUS? NO WAY that could take all day.
I said it felt like he was avoiding me...
what did I get text back?
"Fuck you"
I said it FELT like.
I don't know what to do!! I'm hurt, sad, depressed, lonely and there isn't ONE fucking drug in this WHOLE DAMN HOUSE to make feel a little better! So all I have is to cut and I WILL NOT do that. I don't know if I can even stop once I start seeing the blood running down my wrist.
So all I can do is sit here and cry...
and wait to see if he feels like texting me again or not.
This feels like repeating my last relationship, feeling single and sleeping alone a lot, but not being so. Being told things like that when you say the wrong thing (Sean doesn't do it often at all). And the pulling away...Michael pulled away more and more until he just said he didn't want me anymore...perhaps thats what I fear so much.
God, I'm glad no one can see mr cry...I have more over this this week than I have over him. (Other than fights and crap.)
GOD DAMN IT!
First he is sick for 3 days.
Then I can't because I need the extra hour of sleep for work and I never want to go home.
Today, I don't even have my evening classes, but he has to do homework for SEIDA.
ARE YOU SERIOUS? NO WAY that could take all day.
I said it felt like he was avoiding me...
what did I get text back?
"Fuck you"
I said it FELT like.
I don't know what to do!! I'm hurt, sad, depressed, lonely and there isn't ONE fucking drug in this WHOLE DAMN HOUSE to make feel a little better! So all I have is to cut and I WILL NOT do that. I don't know if I can even stop once I start seeing the blood running down my wrist.
So all I can do is sit here and cry...
and wait to see if he feels like texting me again or not.
This feels like repeating my last relationship, feeling single and sleeping alone a lot, but not being so. Being told things like that when you say the wrong thing (Sean doesn't do it often at all). And the pulling away...Michael pulled away more and more until he just said he didn't want me anymore...perhaps thats what I fear so much.
God, I'm glad no one can see mr cry...I have more over this this week than I have over him. (Other than fights and crap.)
GOD DAMN IT!
1. i used to carry around a scrabble board and scrabble dictionary in my car. lexulous has now somewhat replaced my urge to play in person, along with the fact that i have no car.
2. playing word games has given me a large vocabulary. when i write papers for school, i like to include bizarre words to see if professors notice.
3. i am an incredibly picky eater but i am willing to bet i have tried more random foods than most people. i try most anything a few times before declaring that i don't like it.
4. i prefer salty over sweet. in fact, i have been known to eat pretzel salt instead of the actual pretzel. and i like my dark chocolate with salt crystals in it.
5. i like to procrastinate. its rare that i do assignments in advance. yet i still get really good grades.
6. i hate talking on the phone and calling people. i used to hate calling businesses too, but i can do that now. i still won't call people i don't know well even if it causes great inconvenience to me.
7. i am really shy around people i don't know. i have a bad habit of talking thru other people; i will say something to person A with hopes that person B will hear and enter the conversation.
8. the only tv i watch regularly includess jeopardy, good eats, top chef, iron chef and football.
9. i am a huge steelers fan thanks to james. several years of making me watch football has paid off.
10. i am insanely brand loyal when it comes to food. i would rather not eat than consume something from a brand i don't like. i guess this goes back to me being picky.
11. i refused to watch ghostbusters growing up because the secretary has the same name as me. i still have not seen any of the movies in the entirety.
12. i love the smell of new plastic toys.
13. i love to travel. i wish i had a job where i made enough money and enough flexibility to travel when ever i want to.
14. i am a beer snob who drinks coors light. i would go broke rather quickly if i kept drinking microbrews that i like. the dogfish head 120 is $9.50 a bottle
15. i am stubborn. if it comes down to doing what i want, or what someone else wants, i don't understand why i should be the one to concede. i also don't understand the idea of not playing games to win.
16. i declared i was moving cross country because i was bored in ohio. i moved here with no job and no plan, but everything seems to be working out fine. i have a job, a place to live with my two best friends, am in grad school and making new friends
17. i don't wear my engagement ring to work because i hate getting it all dirty. and because over thanksgiving the diamond fell out and i had to have it reset.
18. i can't sleep if i don't have pajamas on. and i prefer to have my eye pillow and teddy bear and pillow and blanket too. and there needs to be some sort of ambient noise in the background.
19. the first car i drove was filled with little furbies from mcdonalds. someone kept leaving them on my hood every morning junior year. i still don't know where they came from.
20. i prefer the aisle seats on flights so i can get off the plane faster.
21. i hate crowds of people that just stand around and have no purpose. i dislike waiting in lines and most other things associated with large masses of people.
22. while i may bitch about my job, i do love what i do. spending all day playing with little kids beats an office job any day. even if the bureaucraticness annoys me.
23. i swear, a lot. its pretty amazing that i have typed this much with out saying fuck.
24. people say i have some sort of accent and lots of people assume i am foreign when they meet me. other than sounding like i am from the midwest, i don't think i talk funny.
25. football manager doesn't amuse me
2. playing word games has given me a large vocabulary. when i write papers for school, i like to include bizarre words to see if professors notice.
3. i am an incredibly picky eater but i am willing to bet i have tried more random foods than most people. i try most anything a few times before declaring that i don't like it.
4. i prefer salty over sweet. in fact, i have been known to eat pretzel salt instead of the actual pretzel. and i like my dark chocolate with salt crystals in it.
5. i like to procrastinate. its rare that i do assignments in advance. yet i still get really good grades.
6. i hate talking on the phone and calling people. i used to hate calling businesses too, but i can do that now. i still won't call people i don't know well even if it causes great inconvenience to me.
7. i am really shy around people i don't know. i have a bad habit of talking thru other people; i will say something to person A with hopes that person B will hear and enter the conversation.
8. the only tv i watch regularly includess jeopardy, good eats, top chef, iron chef and football.
9. i am a huge steelers fan thanks to james. several years of making me watch football has paid off.
10. i am insanely brand loyal when it comes to food. i would rather not eat than consume something from a brand i don't like. i guess this goes back to me being picky.
11. i refused to watch ghostbusters growing up because the secretary has the same name as me. i still have not seen any of the movies in the entirety.
12. i love the smell of new plastic toys.
13. i love to travel. i wish i had a job where i made enough money and enough flexibility to travel when ever i want to.
14. i am a beer snob who drinks coors light. i would go broke rather quickly if i kept drinking microbrews that i like. the dogfish head 120 is $9.50 a bottle
15. i am stubborn. if it comes down to doing what i want, or what someone else wants, i don't understand why i should be the one to concede. i also don't understand the idea of not playing games to win.
16. i declared i was moving cross country because i was bored in ohio. i moved here with no job and no plan, but everything seems to be working out fine. i have a job, a place to live with my two best friends, am in grad school and making new friends
17. i don't wear my engagement ring to work because i hate getting it all dirty. and because over thanksgiving the diamond fell out and i had to have it reset.
18. i can't sleep if i don't have pajamas on. and i prefer to have my eye pillow and teddy bear and pillow and blanket too. and there needs to be some sort of ambient noise in the background.
19. the first car i drove was filled with little furbies from mcdonalds. someone kept leaving them on my hood every morning junior year. i still don't know where they came from.
20. i prefer the aisle seats on flights so i can get off the plane faster.
21. i hate crowds of people that just stand around and have no purpose. i dislike waiting in lines and most other things associated with large masses of people.
22. while i may bitch about my job, i do love what i do. spending all day playing with little kids beats an office job any day. even if the bureaucraticness annoys me.
23. i swear, a lot. its pretty amazing that i have typed this much with out saying fuck.
24. people say i have some sort of accent and lots of people assume i am foreign when they meet me. other than sounding like i am from the midwest, i don't think i talk funny.
25. football manager doesn't amuse me
Fully Aware & Amazingly Conscious
I've hit a bit of a spot
where I stagger about .. a fat ass walrus with too long of tusks.
I've concluded, making anyone happy-- is hardly my calling. Beyond personal of course.
I am a catalyst, in the damned crucible we stand in.
Forever will be loathed, marked with some hellish tar-- but with great intentions and warm heart.
I stand with wide open hands and receive the angry response. I choose not to edit, omit or revoke.
I do my best, I say what inspires, I refuse to bring myself lower -- as all I have are my words that bring meaning. If I invoke some feeling to someone, no matter what, then my job was well done.
I've hit a bit of a spot
where I stagger about .. a fat ass walrus with too long of tusks.
I've concluded, making anyone happy-- is hardly my calling. Beyond personal of course.
I am a catalyst, in the damned crucible we stand in.
Forever will be loathed, marked with some hellish tar-- but with great intentions and warm heart.
I stand with wide open hands and receive the angry response. I choose not to edit, omit or revoke.
I do my best, I say what inspires, I refuse to bring myself lower -- as all I have are my words that bring meaning. If I invoke some feeling to someone, no matter what, then my job was well done.
there's so much inside that im not able to let out. im miserable. in the midst of old memories manifesting into the present and holding steel cold criticism with a laughing face. id cling to anything at this point just to feel grounded. id probably take up being a jehovah's witness if they came knocking at the door at this ungodly hour. id stare at the pamphlet while the watch tower mirrored my mixed emotions then fall blindly into another failing option, wondering what happened. it's all in my head, im sure, but what good does that saying really do? just points out the obvious. where else would my scattered thoughts of guilt mixed with self loathing be? not in this doritos bag...that's full of deliciousness.
as much as i think im ok, im not ok. when i stop for just a second, when im at my most relaxed...i fuck things all kinds of up. i dont know how i do it but by some kind of psycho shit magic i manage to lower my position in whatever im in. it's not like i have anyone to blame either, it's all here in me waiting to pop up and say, "haha fucker youre goin down!"
and im like, "noooo"
but it happens anyway and i end up looking as well as feeling like an over grown ass/bastard/failure.
life is hard, this is bullshit, i have no idea what im doing. no more now, k?
as much as i think im ok, im not ok. when i stop for just a second, when im at my most relaxed...i fuck things all kinds of up. i dont know how i do it but by some kind of psycho shit magic i manage to lower my position in whatever im in. it's not like i have anyone to blame either, it's all here in me waiting to pop up and say, "haha fucker youre goin down!"
and im like, "noooo"
but it happens anyway and i end up looking as well as feeling like an over grown ass/bastard/failure.
life is hard, this is bullshit, i have no idea what im doing. no more now, k?
The poll is over. The State of California decided to give Kristen a Glock-19. Or at least the guy who sold it too me did, as I slumped over the counter, wearing a perfectly pre-meditated pink shirt that puts my tits on display and tiny skirt that I picked out for the occasion. My eyes pure glossy and unnaturally blue from the colored contacts which help hide my lack of pupils at the moment.
Kristen: I passed the background check??
Guy: Yeah (grin) why do you look so surprised?
Kristen: oh (think fast)..no I'm not surprised about that. I'm surprised how fast you were able to type all that info in. It looked very hard. Very impressive (seductive smile).
Guy: Thanks (grin)
I hired more help this week and was able to plow through a mountain of work. I'm back on track in relatively in control, and in 10 days, armed.
Kristen is going to a party tonight.
original post:
KristenInControl.blogspot.com
My housekeeper just left and not more than a minute later I manage to propel Soma's cat food through the air along with her water. Over tired and undernourished I went to glance out the window at the tamale dealer who loudly started expelling his tamale laced propaganda to anyone within a 2 mile radius. I don't speak a word of Spanish but I've lived here long enough to know what hes saying. Fuck off, I think to myself as cat food particles smash against the back wall of my dining room. It occurs to me that Soma eats better and more frequently than I do. An ex-girlfriend got me in the habit of buying the most goddamn fru-fru cat food available. Allergen and gluten free and certified organic. I actually don't mind though. She is in perfect health and seems content to lay on the ledge by the window, sleep, and occasionally, she will try to assassinate my other cat.
I've been living of Starbucks for the last week. But I don't really care. I never really care about food. If you were to ever go to a restaurant with me it would be the most annoying 10 minutes of your life as I scanned and re-scanned the menu looking for anything that appealed to me and making fun of the other food as I did so. What makes it worse is that I'm a vegetarian, so my choices are already limited. Because of this, its very easy for me to get in the habit of eating nothing but instant oatmeal for a month straight, or living off Starbucks coffee and there selection of 'health' bars for weeks. I probably save a lot of money on groceries but I'm not exactly sure because it seems I'm always recharging my Starbucks card. So much so that one of the baristas actually pulled me to the side of the counter one day and told me I NEEDED to get the Starbucks platinum card, saying I spent enough to make it worth it. I normally would have shrugged this off with my usual expression of deliberation mixed with complete apathy, but it was his deadly serious nature and the WAY he said I needed it. His eyes wide with paranoia, as if not only my life but his life were depended on it.
I've been hiding out all week. Avoiding email (other than my cell's reminders), instant messaging and any other form of communication kept to a minimum so I could focus on finishing a project that has been very...challenging. But I did it. Sleeping in 2 or 3 hr shifts and working until I couldn't type another line of code or do another line of amp. I was even too tired to masturbate. It's pretty bad when you think of doing it as you lay down after being awake for 38 hours and fall asleep while attempting to do it. I foolishly set up a date for Tuesday night but that didn't work out and I'm actually glad it didn't.
I forgot about it but apparently I booked an appointment to get shot up with some botox and probably Rystalyne, Juvederm, or collagen tomorrow. I have no idea why I booked it with this doctor so far away when there are like ten thousand of these guys within the city limits. I like the fuller lip effect the Rystalyne or Juvederm give me but I wish it was permanent. I'm also planning to meet friends at the beach afterward which makes me nervous. It's California though, so I'm sure injection marks go well with tan lines.
I'm sleepy now.
When you dream of a building, the building is generally you, what state it is in, whats inside the rooms. How the rooms change.
Dreaming of hotels is symbolic of the outside world, and other people.
Early this morning I dreamt of a hotel, a large lobby that has stood for many years and has changed many times. It had become modern, with new paint. I tried taking photos of it but there were too many people in the way.
I remember waling to my room, *something* 26, I think it was floor one tho. I remember their being hundreds of rooms, and walking between and behind all these people to get to my room. I never quite got inside tho.
I feel different now, ironic that I'm in a state of change when change this the theme. I definitely felt the hotel was a way station, halfway between where I was and where I am going. I could look back (somewhat crowded) on the past and find my way to where I need to be in the future.
Lately I've made a concerted effort to change the way I look too, I just feel the need to shed the old (whatever that was) and feel "new".
Interesting times. Good times. I'll let you know what happens.
Dreaming of hotels is symbolic of the outside world, and other people.
Early this morning I dreamt of a hotel, a large lobby that has stood for many years and has changed many times. It had become modern, with new paint. I tried taking photos of it but there were too many people in the way.
I remember waling to my room, *something* 26, I think it was floor one tho. I remember their being hundreds of rooms, and walking between and behind all these people to get to my room. I never quite got inside tho.
I feel different now, ironic that I'm in a state of change when change this the theme. I definitely felt the hotel was a way station, halfway between where I was and where I am going. I could look back (somewhat crowded) on the past and find my way to where I need to be in the future.
Lately I've made a concerted effort to change the way I look too, I just feel the need to shed the old (whatever that was) and feel "new".
Interesting times. Good times. I'll let you know what happens.
25 Things About Me
- My mom has 16 siblings
- My dad has 9 siblings
- I'm an only child
- I recently started eating meat again after 14 years as a pescetarian. I don't think I'll ever get used to it and will always continue to be on the lookout for meatless options.
- I'd do anything for my cat, I truly think we've saved each other's lives and have a special bond.
- Even though I have such a large extended family I'm not really close to anyone, including my parents
- At the same time though, my worst fear is my parents dying
- I'm almost at hermit status right now and try to avoid contact with people as much as possible
- If I had my way I would sleep all day
- I don't particularly enjoy baths, but miss them when the option isn't there
- I over analyze just about everything in my life, sometimes to the point of it driving me insane
- Reading is my favorite past time, with listening to music coming in as a close second
- I hate milk but love most dairy products
- I live by myself and absolutely love it
- I've never seen Jurassic Park and refuse to ever see it
- I was born in Denver and lived in Littleton, CO and would have been at Columbine High School on the day of the shootings if we hadn't moved to Wisconsin when I was 11
- I fell off a mechanical horse when I was 4 years old and got a concussion
- I traveled around Germany and other places in Europe right after I graduated high school
- I often wonder "What if..." but I try not to think too much and think that everything has happened for a reason even if I never know what that reason is
- I'm an extremely private person
- I'm kind of worried about my future, especially as I'm getting older
- I'm obsessed with Smurfs and anytime I see one that I can afford at the time I pick it up
- I just got my first mosquito bite of the year
- I joined a gym a few weeks ago but have a difficult time going unless I just got done with work
- My parents met at work and now 30 years later still work with the same company
Ever since Natalie Dylan’s agent blocked me from Natalie’s Official MySpace page in February, I went from feeling love (for the first time in at least 18 years) to feeling like I’ve been raped, hopeless and like I’m dying.
Last night I went to this annual Homeowner’s Association meeting and got screwed really bad. This is the development (HOA) where I lost a potential $1,000,000 due to their mismanagement. Here’s an email I sent to others who were ripped-off:
After the meeting I went to a friend’s house, got stoned and lost my mind, saying all kinds of crazy things. When I got home, I started drinking wine. Got kinda drunk, went to bed at 1:11 am, woke up feeling like I was gonna pass out and die . . . bad-assed hangover.
About a month before, I OD’s on Meth . . . my first time smoking it . . . stayed up three days and finally went to the hospital ‘cause my heart really hurt after it severely fibulated shortly after the OD.
Seriously thinking I’m going to quit smoking cigs (only smoked about 5 roll-Ur-own/day) and drinking to get drunk. Due to the Meth, I also quit Coke. I believe part of the reason I felt sooo badly last month was the withdrawl from Coke.
Peace & Love,
Raquel!
Last night I went to this annual Homeowner’s Association meeting and got screwed really bad. This is the development (HOA) where I lost a potential $1,000,000 due to their mismanagement. Here’s an email I sent to others who were ripped-off:
Absolutely outrageous meeting last night. I asked if they're going to ding us any more $$$ on the Unit 2 lots and Steve Russo, who seems to be the spokesperson for this group said, "I'm looking through the books now and haven't decided if U owe us $15,000 more."
I then said, "How can U charge us for money the bank lost?!" Instead of allowing him to respond, I added, "Did U borrow money from National Bank?" He said no, they used all their own money. . . .
I just called Steve Russo about the above and started crying about how I planned to build there, buy a backhoe & water truck, had four lots in Unit 5 surveyed to build on etc.
Russo said he was looking at how much more $$$ in Unit 2 were spent. I never got a firm commitment that he wouldn't bill us for that. I suggested a meeting with him and he said if he does plan to ding us for more $$$ in Unit 2 he will tell us and have a meeting. There will be more expenses . . . he said the County wouldn't approve the sewer in Unit 2.
I told him of the ponzi-scheme the former owners did on me to sucker me into this by buying three lots in Unit 8 that I couldn't sell because of some contract they had with the builders prohibiting them from buying from private owners . . . no one wanted to build next to a KB Home (I don't blame them) . . . I told him how lousy those buildings in Unit 8 looked compared to the development east of there with porches (balconies).
He agreed it was kinda stupid that I'm paying taxes on Unit 5 lots when the lots are indebted over $40k. He said it will be hard to just make those liens just go away because someone payed money for those lots. I suggested that those who paid the $$$ (liens) on those lots probably got the $$$ from the bank but he said the books for the bank are pretty good and so-far, don't show that.
I couldn't sleep last night thinking about this . . . how I got screwed. I told him of Bob Baumbauer how Bob told us that we were overcharged for bringing the water two-miles up Houghton . . . ALL the lots in that community were charged for bringing the water up. "ALL" meaning the developments east, south and west of us were charged for that.
The partners in NT Properties are long-time lawyers in Tucson, which might explain why every lawyer I've been to has said, "conflict of interest."
I'm really at a loss about what to do feels literally & figuratively like I got screwed/raped and I'm gonna lose the $66k I was stupid enough to invest to improve two lots in Unit 2.
Steve Russo was kind to me on the phone and is open to U calling him. I think we should all have a small meeting with Steve.
One more thing: I nominated myself to be on all the boards but won no seat even though there was an open seat (they allow five members).
Best Wishes,
Raquel!
I then said, "How can U charge us for money the bank lost?!" Instead of allowing him to respond, I added, "Did U borrow money from National Bank?" He said no, they used all their own money. . . .
I just called Steve Russo about the above and started crying about how I planned to build there, buy a backhoe & water truck, had four lots in Unit 5 surveyed to build on etc.
Russo said he was looking at how much more $$$ in Unit 2 were spent. I never got a firm commitment that he wouldn't bill us for that. I suggested a meeting with him and he said if he does plan to ding us for more $$$ in Unit 2 he will tell us and have a meeting. There will be more expenses . . . he said the County wouldn't approve the sewer in Unit 2.
I told him of the ponzi-scheme the former owners did on me to sucker me into this by buying three lots in Unit 8 that I couldn't sell because of some contract they had with the builders prohibiting them from buying from private owners . . . no one wanted to build next to a KB Home (I don't blame them) . . . I told him how lousy those buildings in Unit 8 looked compared to the development east of there with porches (balconies).
He agreed it was kinda stupid that I'm paying taxes on Unit 5 lots when the lots are indebted over $40k. He said it will be hard to just make those liens just go away because someone payed money for those lots. I suggested that those who paid the $$$ (liens) on those lots probably got the $$$ from the bank but he said the books for the bank are pretty good and so-far, don't show that.
I couldn't sleep last night thinking about this . . . how I got screwed. I told him of Bob Baumbauer how Bob told us that we were overcharged for bringing the water two-miles up Houghton . . . ALL the lots in that community were charged for bringing the water up. "ALL" meaning the developments east, south and west of us were charged for that.
The partners in NT Properties are long-time lawyers in Tucson, which might explain why every lawyer I've been to has said, "conflict of interest."
I'm really at a loss about what to do feels literally & figuratively like I got screwed/raped and I'm gonna lose the $66k I was stupid enough to invest to improve two lots in Unit 2.
Steve Russo was kind to me on the phone and is open to U calling him. I think we should all have a small meeting with Steve.
One more thing: I nominated myself to be on all the boards but won no seat even though there was an open seat (they allow five members).
Best Wishes,
Raquel!
After the meeting I went to a friend’s house, got stoned and lost my mind, saying all kinds of crazy things. When I got home, I started drinking wine. Got kinda drunk, went to bed at 1:11 am, woke up feeling like I was gonna pass out and die . . . bad-assed hangover.
About a month before, I OD’s on Meth . . . my first time smoking it . . . stayed up three days and finally went to the hospital ‘cause my heart really hurt after it severely fibulated shortly after the OD.
Seriously thinking I’m going to quit smoking cigs (only smoked about 5 roll-Ur-own/day) and drinking to get drunk. Due to the Meth, I also quit Coke. I believe part of the reason I felt sooo badly last month was the withdrawl from Coke.
Peace & Love,
Raquel!
It's now been 8 days since I had any meth. What helped me stick to the intended break was the thought of the hassle of having to get more. Of course, the other reason I decided I HAD to do it was the fact that I knew that I had 2 (now 1) week of traffic school from 6p10p each Wednesday. I've been fighting with the chronic fatigue, but still, again THANK GOD I haven't had to deal with the dreaded apathy that often accompanies meth come down or feel the way I felt when I was reducing my Tramadol intake. So, the only drugs I've had that are "fun" are my Rx painkillers. They, again thank God, soften the blow from the meth come down, although it was VERY tempting to go score even a dime just so I could get through my damned day shift on Tuesday.
My patient is now very angry and rowdy because he is deprived from running, due to his fucking cast from his knee surgery. The thing that sucks is that he's gonna be like that for WEEKS, UGGGGH! I did tell my patient's mom that I would be taking Tuesdays off the last 2 wks of June. That helps soften the blow of having to deal with him. He really wore me out, I could have USED a very small amount of speed to deal with him, but I refrained, mainly because of the bloody panick attacks I suffer if I have to drive. A very minute amount doesn't hurt me, sort of like when I was taking one diet pill a day to lose weight, but didn't want to chance it. I came very close to shining on the traffic school I was required to attend tonight, mainly because I'm so tired. I came home from work Tuesday at about 9pm, went straight to bed, stayed there until 5:30pm, when I left for the school.
I'm glad I did go and now am dreading this other stupid fucked up CPR class I'm required to take which is 4 hrs long. I can't work without it, and it's just another bullshit thing I have to do before the end of the month. Every other year it comes around, and every other year I hate it. It's fucking CPR, pretty basic stuff, I'm tired of it, plus I guess I'll have to actually go to them instead of them coming to me as in the past. The lady I hired the last 3 times moved to Arizona, great. Sigh. Whatever, another bullshit thing I hate to do that has to be done. Once I finish the traffic school next week, the point for speeding will be off my record. I'm feeling ok now, slightly buzzed from my Rx. I left the house at 3:30am this morning for a trip to the pharmacy. As always, I gave them a couple days to refill the script, thank God my doc is REALLY good about authorizing the refills right away.
I've been making 45 pills last at least 10 or 11 days, which is good for me. Of course as soon as I came home 10 minutes later, I knew Mom would be confronting me. "Where did you go?," she asked. "To get drugs," I said. "To get drugs? You mean the 24 hr pharmacy right around the corner?," she had to verify. "Yes mother," I said. She's not exactly thrilled about the prospect of me being on "real" drugs again, but anything as long as I'm not on that dreaded crystal meth as far as she is concerned. I see her point, but as I told Dave who dropped off the $60 for the mushrooms I paid him for 6 months ago, that never came through. "Lately I am sick and goddamned tired of the IRS, probation, medical and dental bills, plus the medical insurance itself, the auto insurance (which I couldn't pay last month) the auto maintainance, FUCK. I get no damn paid vacation or sick time and it seems like all I ever do is pay THESE goddamned motherfuckers, fuck."
It felt good to vent to Dave. "Yeah makes you want to go back to taking drugs again," he said. Yeah, haha. He wasn't a bit surprised when I told him I'd been a wee bit off the wagon on and off the past 6 wks, although, as before when I WAS following my meth slamming schedule, an enforced schedule of some sort with me, is mandatory. I am actually glad for the fact I DID and AM taking at least a 3 wk break, who knows maybe longer. Probably the best time to take another mini vacation will be the 2 wks in June I'm taking off on Tuesdays at the end of the month. There's more to life than paying all these Tom, Dick, and Harry's. I'd love to make a little extra cash on the side on the PC from home, but that got me fucked up the ass without lubrication. Guess I won't be trying that again, except who knows, perhpas I'll sell shit on EBAY the way my friend Amy the chiropracter did. Aimee, my best friend, the junkie tried what I did, and she's the one that warned me about the scam these dick heads pulled. Now, I gotta see bout getting my damn money back, hopefully I can, as they blatantly lied about the actual charges. Anyway, that's bout it for now.
I got to get on about the business of writing these IRS, probation, and student loan people to get off my fuckin case. I'm not even buying shit, and there's still way more bills than income for me, which pisses me off. I'd like someday too, to not have Mother Warden monitoring my activities day and night, Christ I'm 44 NOT 15.
My patient is now very angry and rowdy because he is deprived from running, due to his fucking cast from his knee surgery. The thing that sucks is that he's gonna be like that for WEEKS, UGGGGH! I did tell my patient's mom that I would be taking Tuesdays off the last 2 wks of June. That helps soften the blow of having to deal with him. He really wore me out, I could have USED a very small amount of speed to deal with him, but I refrained, mainly because of the bloody panick attacks I suffer if I have to drive. A very minute amount doesn't hurt me, sort of like when I was taking one diet pill a day to lose weight, but didn't want to chance it. I came very close to shining on the traffic school I was required to attend tonight, mainly because I'm so tired. I came home from work Tuesday at about 9pm, went straight to bed, stayed there until 5:30pm, when I left for the school.
I'm glad I did go and now am dreading this other stupid fucked up CPR class I'm required to take which is 4 hrs long. I can't work without it, and it's just another bullshit thing I have to do before the end of the month. Every other year it comes around, and every other year I hate it. It's fucking CPR, pretty basic stuff, I'm tired of it, plus I guess I'll have to actually go to them instead of them coming to me as in the past. The lady I hired the last 3 times moved to Arizona, great. Sigh. Whatever, another bullshit thing I hate to do that has to be done. Once I finish the traffic school next week, the point for speeding will be off my record. I'm feeling ok now, slightly buzzed from my Rx. I left the house at 3:30am this morning for a trip to the pharmacy. As always, I gave them a couple days to refill the script, thank God my doc is REALLY good about authorizing the refills right away.
I've been making 45 pills last at least 10 or 11 days, which is good for me. Of course as soon as I came home 10 minutes later, I knew Mom would be confronting me. "Where did you go?," she asked. "To get drugs," I said. "To get drugs? You mean the 24 hr pharmacy right around the corner?," she had to verify. "Yes mother," I said. She's not exactly thrilled about the prospect of me being on "real" drugs again, but anything as long as I'm not on that dreaded crystal meth as far as she is concerned. I see her point, but as I told Dave who dropped off the $60 for the mushrooms I paid him for 6 months ago, that never came through. "Lately I am sick and goddamned tired of the IRS, probation, medical and dental bills, plus the medical insurance itself, the auto insurance (which I couldn't pay last month) the auto maintainance, FUCK. I get no damn paid vacation or sick time and it seems like all I ever do is pay THESE goddamned motherfuckers, fuck."
It felt good to vent to Dave. "Yeah makes you want to go back to taking drugs again," he said. Yeah, haha. He wasn't a bit surprised when I told him I'd been a wee bit off the wagon on and off the past 6 wks, although, as before when I WAS following my meth slamming schedule, an enforced schedule of some sort with me, is mandatory. I am actually glad for the fact I DID and AM taking at least a 3 wk break, who knows maybe longer. Probably the best time to take another mini vacation will be the 2 wks in June I'm taking off on Tuesdays at the end of the month. There's more to life than paying all these Tom, Dick, and Harry's. I'd love to make a little extra cash on the side on the PC from home, but that got me fucked up the ass without lubrication. Guess I won't be trying that again, except who knows, perhpas I'll sell shit on EBAY the way my friend Amy the chiropracter did. Aimee, my best friend, the junkie tried what I did, and she's the one that warned me about the scam these dick heads pulled. Now, I gotta see bout getting my damn money back, hopefully I can, as they blatantly lied about the actual charges. Anyway, that's bout it for now.
I got to get on about the business of writing these IRS, probation, and student loan people to get off my fuckin case. I'm not even buying shit, and there's still way more bills than income for me, which pisses me off. I'd like someday too, to not have Mother Warden monitoring my activities day and night, Christ I'm 44 NOT 15.
went to a trance party in the forest saturday. most of the people there were from the city and I decided were pretty much retarded. no one knew how to tend a fire and they didn't even dig a shitter for all the foolish etarded saps. In the morning my local crew and I were the only people recycling and picking up.
Anyways, the trance sucked, and there were hardly any dancers, which makes no sense to me. You come 3 hours from your big city and just sit around a fire the whole time? Isn't the whole point of getting out of your urban environment to feel safe in the woods and go nuts with your crew? My people and I needed to get out into the forest and we also wanted to represent our local psychedelic tribe and make sure these folks didn't trash our woods. Even though the music and the people did not inspire me, I still danced my fucking ass off, tripped hard, and did my part. That is work and it is good work. And it doesn't need a pat on the back because it is my work and I'd do it regardless.
When I am at a party I try to inspire people to work for the community, even if the community only lasts for a night. It's kind of my trip and I know not every one feels or knows that its important to actively be a part of the community. Everyone wants to though, they just don't know that sometimes the littlest things can sometimes be the biggest. Every one wants to be the fuckin president but they don't want to pick up after themselves. It boggles my mind.
Luckily that was just the start of the outdoor party season and there will be way more psychedelic tribes getting together soon. On the solstice there is going to be an awesome psy party in the woods and this weekend there is a bigger party with some psytrance and darker dnb and dubstep people. Hopefully this seasons we can have some intentional fire ritual going on, at least in the psy circles. The is another thing that bugs me about most outdoor parties is the placement of the fire. It isn't something you really think about until you've been to a party where they place the fire in such a way that it unites the dj with the dancers as well as the people just trying to keep warm. It is something you will mostly see in the more psychedelic psytrance scene. Some of of my people actually travel around to different psy parties and build fires where the wood is arranged geometrically to try and invoke different spirits and energies into the gathering. They have used merkabahs to do this very intentional fire ritual. The energy of those parties is just phenomenal. When the fire is transformed into a portal and treated as an entire being in itself it brings in a whole other level of higher intelligence.
peace.
Anyways, the trance sucked, and there were hardly any dancers, which makes no sense to me. You come 3 hours from your big city and just sit around a fire the whole time? Isn't the whole point of getting out of your urban environment to feel safe in the woods and go nuts with your crew? My people and I needed to get out into the forest and we also wanted to represent our local psychedelic tribe and make sure these folks didn't trash our woods. Even though the music and the people did not inspire me, I still danced my fucking ass off, tripped hard, and did my part. That is work and it is good work. And it doesn't need a pat on the back because it is my work and I'd do it regardless.
When I am at a party I try to inspire people to work for the community, even if the community only lasts for a night. It's kind of my trip and I know not every one feels or knows that its important to actively be a part of the community. Everyone wants to though, they just don't know that sometimes the littlest things can sometimes be the biggest. Every one wants to be the fuckin president but they don't want to pick up after themselves. It boggles my mind.
Luckily that was just the start of the outdoor party season and there will be way more psychedelic tribes getting together soon. On the solstice there is going to be an awesome psy party in the woods and this weekend there is a bigger party with some psytrance and darker dnb and dubstep people. Hopefully this seasons we can have some intentional fire ritual going on, at least in the psy circles. The is another thing that bugs me about most outdoor parties is the placement of the fire. It isn't something you really think about until you've been to a party where they place the fire in such a way that it unites the dj with the dancers as well as the people just trying to keep warm. It is something you will mostly see in the more psychedelic psytrance scene. Some of of my people actually travel around to different psy parties and build fires where the wood is arranged geometrically to try and invoke different spirits and energies into the gathering. They have used merkabahs to do this very intentional fire ritual. The energy of those parties is just phenomenal. When the fire is transformed into a portal and treated as an entire being in itself it brings in a whole other level of higher intelligence.
peace.