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today, i took my usual meds, as well as took the Very last of my 3-ho-pce. i washed out the baggie and swallowed the remnants with water + gave it a wash, then drank that.

An hour after that, i checked my bank account and saw i had some money, so i walked down to the vape shop after putting my clothes in the dryer, as today it was/isnt too hot for once, only around 100F (dry heat so its manageable)

bought a 5 pack of "shroom gummies" i presume are just liike, 4-aco-dmt/etc compounds, went to 7/11 and got a sub and doritos, made my way back and checked my laundry then showered real quick to wash sweat off.

i ate some of my sandwich and dosed 2 of the gummies, around 3:15 PM and now its a bit after 5!

WOW!! what a breath of fresh air!! since then, i;ve (NOT in order):

• finished drying my laundry and put it all away
• caught up with a friend i havent talked to in 2 years
• called my mom while putting away my laundry just to shoot the shit with her
• VCed my friend i rarely if ever VC
• finished an overdue art commission ive been pestering myself to do for over a month
• talked to my boyfriend's parents and gave them updates
• applied to a few more dispensary jobs on account of a bluelighter linking me some nearby to apply to!!

and i just feel generally light, happy, euphoric, and such. Not a high, but there is one if i rifle through my brain hard enough i guess? but mainly sober, chill... really good :0 i was put off from psychedelics, especially the hallucinogeny ones, because i was jsut used to macrodosing, however this feels quite pleasant. even if its placebo, it feels quite awesome and boosting.

also, new medication regime is going smooth, i feel my mania subsiding and feel very overall pleasant and nicer. tomorrow i up my trileptal dose more, as well as up my abilify. good show jolly good show !

This one is only half done at most it's my ode to star trek deep space nine.


This one is done it's diacetylmorphine in lewis dot structure

Hi, my name is Josh and I am an addict. A meth addict to be exact. I launched a site called AndIAmAnAddict.com I know I am not unique. I share similar experiences, hardships, and hope with other addicts. So then why am I making this site? The answer is two fold. First and foremost, it’s a way for me to put my recovery into something tangible. A time capsule of my journey so to speak — allowing me the opportunity to see where I was, where I am, and where I’m going. After all, this is a journey, not a destination. The second, if in someway the site helps just one person — then that’s more than I could have hoped for

Obviously, I would love my experience to help more than one person. Like many of us, I future trip. I have a vision of what I want this site to be and genuinely would love to see it come to fruition. However, if it doesn’t, that’s OK. After all, personal recovery comes first. It’s only then can we truly help those who still suffer.

I should warn you, I am not a writer. I have horrible grammar skills. My sentence structure will almost always be wrong. If that bothers you, I don’t know what to say. Except, keep coming back, maybe it will get better…

My intentions of using drugs is never meant to hurt anyone but me. I don’t think about them when using. That sounds harsh but its the truth. When using, I have one thing on my mind. Getting high. My family is collateral damage.

Today, I choose to believe my recovery is not a coincidence. I don’t know why I am still here, but someone or something wants me to be. I am committed to figuring out why.


andIAmAnAddict.com

Things have really been tough lately. First, my mom died. Now, I have to explain why life has become so difficult lately. I have almost eleven years of recovery and mom wrote a trust for me seventeen years ago, making my uncle trustee and me beneficiary. First off, both mom and I completely forgot about the fact that years ago she made my uncle trustee. If I had remembered, I would have asked her to change the trust and she would have because I have been the one responsible for her health and wellbeing, and her body kept breaking down putting more and more responsibility on me. Since I am an only child I get all the money, but also all the responsibility. We should have foreseen the fact that my uncle and his wife would try to get as much money out of this situation as possible. Uncle has always been the kind of guy to borrow money from everyone and never pay it back, except for once when decades ago, my dad threatened to tell his wife if he did not pay up. Anyway, it was bad enough losing mom, but now my aunt and uncle are trying to get everything they can.

They walked in here acting like they owned the place, MY house and aunty is telling everyone how great mom's furniture is going to look in her house. To say that this is infuriating is an understatement, which made it necessary to get a lawyer involved. Uncle got one right off the bat. I have university starting up at the end of August and I'm wondering if it would be a good idea to start school, but my lawyer told me that this nightmare could go on for two years. TWO YEARS? Mom wanted me to have this money in addition to work, because I am low income and now aunt and uncle are trying to take my inheritance away, or as much as possible. Uncle has stolen from the trust which makes me want to press charges. Meanwhile, things break in the house leaving me responsible to foot the bill. I'm trying to get my uncle removed as trustee, but this is a nightmare. My lawyer tells me that I cannot sell anything in the house to pay for his bills and I'm thinking it's time for a new lawyer.

Also, I'm going to have to move into an apartment and trying to move during all this is less than ideal. I'm having to research a lot and try to talk to the right people to get the right advice to help me navigate this nightmare. They say what doesn't kill you makes you stronger and I'm sure putting that theory to the test. Also, my job moved, which means I no longer get to see the kitty. My job specifically asked that I NOT adopt the kitty because she has been in that neighborhood for ten years. I feel awful because I don't want her to think she got abandoned. Pets are a Godsend during trying times, so I miss the cat while enjoying the dog for as long as I can.

Hi, my name is, Josh and I am an addict. The way addiction affects us mentally should come as no surprise. Our obsessions with the thoughts of using drugs consume us. For me, this was a cycle that was hard to break. Once I had the idea of using drugs, I would find myself lighting up, wondering how I got from point A to Z. It was almost like I was on autopilot.

It was the last week of March 2023. I do not remember the exact day, I want to say it was a Friday, but I could be wrong. My now ex, let us call him Jason, had told me, while I was at work, he was not sure if he wanted to be monogamous. Like really? While I am at work? I knew this was a possibility when getting into the relationship, as he mentioned it might be something he wanted down the road. This conversation had happened one time prior and I thought he was over it. In hindsight, I should not have pursued something with him. As I have mentioned in the past, relationships are like drugs to me, so of course I went all in with this guy. We met online through the gay app Scruff, which is not as bad as Grindr, which is just a place of pure evil if you ask me. We had our first date on the 4th of September 2022, became boyfriends on October 1st, and moved in together by the end of November. Talk about moving too quickly. I liked it though. It was a rush of adrenaline, a new high. In a sense I became obsessive with him and thought of us being together. Read Full Blog Post

I guess I'm the crazy person who is holding on too tight. This relationship has been withering on the vine for a long time now. I love her so much but I hate her at the same time. She is awful to me in ways I never thought she would be. I just wanted her to love me. I'm not perfect in fact I probably suck too. We are fucking toxic at this point. It's shocking how something which was so incredibly beautiful ends up dead and withered.

I still care so much about her. I just love her too pieces. She is my best friend. But I'm going to lose her. And then I'm going to kill myself because there won't be anything left on this planet for me. So if your reading this years later babe just know that I care so fucking much about you. I wish I didn't say the ugly things I do. Your beautiful your smart your amazing in every way and I love you till my last breath of air. I'll be at the old apartment waiting for you under the covers. Don't forget me. Somewhere it will always be November of 2019

So I'm sitting at the bus stop wearing my nasty ass hoodie in July untied timberlands and basketball shorts. I really think I should act my age but fuck it. Ive been shooting "fetty" as they call it here for like at least a couple years now I think. I don't even remember when we relapsed. But it's been a grinding long run that I can't seem to bring to a close. All runs end eventually it's the nature of an all consuming addiction. You go until you can't anymore. arrest rehab maintenance whatever. Otherwise death will be the most inevitable outcome. But this run will not cease. It's a fucking zombie

Hello, Bluelight. I am here, once again, to vent. It needs to be done.

Basically, I want to know WHY people are allowed to do fucked up things to me and get away with it. Rape? Oh, it's okay - don't do it again. Attempted murder? Oh, it's okay - you can keep your job and roam free while the case goes up to the D.A., who probably won't even do anything. WHY THE FUCK IS IT NOT LIKE THIS FOR THE REST OF SOCIETY. I swear to you, I have the worst luck ever. And I'm not going to lie, it really makes me jaded. And in the spirit of honesty, because I am a broken person who will never be healed and I might as well just finally fucking accept that, it makes me lose faith in humanity and it confirms what I suspected all along: no one cares. I could be murdered tomorrow and the killer could turn himself in the next day, and they'd just give him a slap on the wrist. You think I'm kidding but I'm really not.

Yes, the rape thing doesn't affect me anymore. I'm long past that. But the fact that I tried to get help for it... and in doing so, I got in trouble instead, slapped with a "false official statement", my rank and pay taken away, lost friends because their superiors told them they weren't allowed to associate with me, and branded a liar by the entire base (it was a small base where everyone knew everyone fml)... THAT bothers me. It still keeps me up at night. I have a lot of rage towards a lot of people. Him... my BnCo... my "friends" that didn't have my back, who could have stepped up and proved I wasn't lying but chose to remain silent... my "friends" that turned on me when I REALLY needed them, even though they knew I was telling the truth, just because their superiors told them not to... did I mention my BnCo?... those are the main ones that keep me up at night, but there are a lot of people. I'm mad at myself too, for even putting myself in that situation. Mostly I shy away from thinking about it, because when I start, I don't stop. I get caught in a loop, and my mind turns to every single person who was responsible for my downfall, one at a time, and I think about how fucked up it all was, and I think about how I spent the next year drinking just to keep myself above water, and it's all downhill from there because my rage keeps building. Until I finally pop a Xanax or whatever other drug is available, or until I finally cry (which doesn't happen as often as I like - it really is a great stress reliever but sometimes it just DOES NOT COME) and I'm exhausted enough to fall asleep.

And now there's this. THIS BITCH almost fucking killed me two weeks ago. I have permanent HEARING LOSS because of it. MEMORY LOSS. CONCUSSION. AGGRAVATED PTSD. Hello, why the fuck is she allowed to roam the streets right now? She didn't get fired from her job (she works for my therapist as an intern and actually has her own psych patients... how sick and twisted is that?) I haven't heard jack shit from the police or my lawyer. I understand it's being treated as an attempted murder case, and needs to go to the D.A., and that could take a while... but I'm starting to think no one is taking this seriously. Why? Because I have yet to be asked to make an official statement. No one has been called up as a "character witness" like the police said, to my knowledge. And I THINK one of my friends... whatever the FUCK that means... or family would have informed me by now if they had. They never even collected any evidence from me, saying they would get it from the hospital (which I don't believe they are actually doing). My lawyer collected evidence, but he's worried about taking the case... not because he's afraid I won't win, but because he's TOO afraid I'll win and she won't be able to pay it. WHAT THE FUCK.

There is no justice in this world. None.

Oh yes, and on top of dealing with all of this, my grandmother is dying. My mom is understandably very stressed out, so I've offered to go watch her for a few hours each day, which I've been doing for the past two weeks. Watching someone I love die right in front of my eyes is not good for my mental well-being right now. One or the other, I could handle on my own. But both of those situations compounded, it's driving me into a wall. Of course, no one knows about this. I'm not going to tell my mom that it's affecting me as much as it is, because she'll tell me I'm being selfish. So I'm not really talking to anyone about it. It's like deja vu. The whole rape situation all over again. Forced to keep a traumatic event locked inside my head, not getting help for it, and it's turning me into someone I'm not. Someone I swore I'd never be again.

Also, I'm being attacked by all sides. I swear it's like every single day, someone says something or does something to me that's really inconsiderate... today, for example... this guy told me he was going to have his girlfriend beat my ass, and then proceeded to hurl every possible insult at me... all the while someone else was texting me similar bullshit. Why? Because I asked him if he could get Xanax. And he said he would, and then flaked. And I told him exactly this: "I'm not hitting you up anymore, this is the second time you've flaked." EXACT WORDS. I'd had no prior beef with this guy, ever, and somehow that warranted threatening me and then insulting me like there was no tomorrow? Not just from him, but from his girlfriend, his family, and his friends too? He had SO many people text me. All because I called him a flake. Double what the fuck.

Do you know how many times I've been told I'm worthless in the past few weeks? I don't know either, because there's too many to count. But it's been a lot. And yeah, you can hold your head high all you want because you know it's not true, but when it comes down to it... when you hear it enough times from enough people, you start to believe it.

If I was a weaker person, I would have offed myself a while ago. But I won't, because I wouldn't do that to my family. A week and a half ago, I was bursting into tears at random intervals from thinking about the fact that I was *thisclose* to not being here on this earth anymore. Now I'm crying at random intervals because I still am. I wish she had killed me. It would have been a painless, unconscious death... and I would have moved on to be free from all of this emotional and mental pain that's so ridiculously strong it actually hurts physically... my heart literally hurts... but I would have finally moved on to be free from all of that once and for all.

Instead, I'm still here dealing with it. I have no hope that it will get better. My life will not get better, ever. It will be a continuous string of fucked up, traumatic events... the cycle will continue the way it has since the day I was born. My brain will continue to adapt to this realization the best way it knows how, which is to shut off. Not care for a while, about anything at all. One day it's going to shut off forever, I'm sure. And then I'll be left by myself, and it will be all my fault, because of this fucked up defense mechanism I have.

I guess it doesn't matter. I have no desire to better my life... meet new people... get married... have kids... nothing. Because what's the point? It all turns to shit in the end, for me anyway. More and more people are proving themselves to be fake... not my real friends... and I don't trust anyone. At all. Anymore. Not even my family.

I'm not going to kill myself, don't worry. I just wonder what the POINT of living really is. I don't think there is one. At least there's peace in the fact that humans aren't immortal... and someday (even if it's 50+ years from now), I'll be gone forever and none of this shit will matter anymore. I can't wait. It's sad, but the only thing I have to look forward to anymore is my own death.

When and how did things get like this? It is truly a cruel and fucked up thing, to be able to want to die but not believe in suicide, and therefore be forced to wait until either... a) someone does it for me, once and for all... or b) nature takes it's course. I am actually jealous of people who are either too weak to deal with life, or strong enough to actually... you know... go through with ending it. Either way, I am not suicidal - never have been and never will be - does the thought cross my mind? Sometimes, yeah. But my immediate response is to feel disgusted and my brain automatically rejects it. And I think that's a really fucked up trait for God (if he exists) to give me, if he also insists on throwing all this shit at me. Cruel and unusual punishment, indeed.

It really has been one thing after another ever since I was born. I already revealed more of the gory details than necessary, so I won't get into the rest of the shit life has flung at me, even as a child. I'll just say I didn't have a childhood at all, that I was forced to grow up too fast, and leave it at that.

Hell, even my birth parents knew I was worthless before I was even born. And if the people who conceived you even feel that way, what hope is there for anyone else?

Exactly.

Life is just sick and twisted. I could go on forever, but at the same time, I have no words. All the better, no one is listening anyway. So, rant over. On paper/internet anyway. I'll never heal from this little revelation, I don't care how much therapy I go through, things are never going to be the same. I am never going to be the same. Then again, I lost myself a long time ago... so I guess that doesn't matter either, does it?

This blog is private by the way. I don't want other Bluelighters to see it. It just feels like... bad form... or a bad example... to let regular users see a mod talking this way. Therefore, it is private, and it will be staying that way unless I regret writing this later and decide to delete it.

Bye for now.

I find reiki very helpful. I've had a few treatments. It is an alternative medicine that has been helpful in treating pain, depression, and chronic fatigue. I see a regular M.D. and for some things she is very helpful, but reiki has helped combat this crippling depression and fatigue that has occured since mom died. So, at work, I've gotten very close to this kitty that was abandoned about ten years ago. I so look forward to seeing her on my work nights. I have noticed she has had a running nose, sneezing, drinking a lot of water for a cat, and seems to wince in pain when I pat her right side. I suspect the kitty is diabetic or has kidney disease. I know she has a compromised immune system because she was diagnosed with "cat aides" a few months back. So, Monday morning I brought my cat carrier and was all ready to take her to the vet. However, she was having none of it. She hated the cat carrier and after several tries of putting her inside, I decided I wasn't going to force it on her. "Come on, kitty, I'm trying to help you!" I said. I sighed and resigned myself to the fact that the vet trip was not going to happen. I figured she may need some antibiotics to treat a respiratory infection and maybe another shot to boost her immune system. So, instead I decided to pay for a remote reiki session for her which she will get tomorrow. I've become very close to this kitty over the last five and a half years and if anything hope it will help to make her more comfortable the way it has helped me.

So, I lost it a bit at university yesterday. Mom wrote out a trust 17 years ago which states that I get everything in the house, plus the house itself upon her death. Since I was using in 2013 and before, mom made my uncle (and now my busybody aunt is involved) trustee and me beneficiary. This means I get the money, but only if and when my uncle says so. He also decides how much, if anything. I knew about the trust years ago, but when mom told me about it, I assumed she stipulated an allowance every month, but not so. I have been very responsible with money during the last 10 years, in fact I was the one that ran the house and paid all of her bills when she was sick. So, I got an email from my uncle asking all kinds of questions like how much was in mom's bank account, who is beneficiary, does she have another will or a safety deposit box, ect. This really rubbed me the wrong way and I kind of lost it at school. It makes me sick that I have to worry about not having autonomy on top of losing mom and the house I have lived in on and off since 1977. I wrote a nasty text venting to my friend about my aunt and uncle. My friend and I planned

on a get together at the house with 20 people or less. My aunt took it upon herself to invite 100 people, most of them strangers, so I am still pissed about that. The problem is I got railroaded into going to my aunt's stupid party and if I don't attend I will look like an asshole. I don't plan on speaking at her fucking party about mom because I'm still pretty pissed off. Becky took my celebration away from me and now I'm being forced to interact with all these crippin strangers this Saturday. Honestly, I'm amazed I have managed not to be rude to anyone about it. Then, on top of this bullshit, I get bombarded with questions about mom's finances. She never bothered to change the terms of the trust, but if she were alive, things would be different. So what I did was explain my situatiuion to my AI and asked it to help me draft a letter to my uncle asking him to step down. There are no people available to help me, so I asked the AI, otherwise my tone would come across as angry and sarcastic. I made changes in the letter where appropriate, so now the tone is polite, but assertive. I'm glad I took the time to cool off for a day before responding to my uncle's email. I don't look forward to his response, but I know what the answer is going to be.

So, I'm going through all of this in addition to school, having to have an estate sale, finding a new place to live, not knowing what the fuck is in store for me in the future. I get very upset at being treated like a child, when I have been managing my mom's as well as my own financial affairs. On top of this there is all this change at work which sucks. I really hate life now. I'm glad I get to see my therapist today.

So, I got an interesting piece of snail mail today. I saw that it was addressed to me, but had no idea who the person sending it was. Eventually, I saw that the person and I shared the same last name, but asked out loud, "Who is Maximus? And why is he sending me a card?" I saw some pictures of a young guy with a dog and the card said that he had graduated high school. "Well okay, mystery boy," I thought. I have 2 half brothers and 1 half sister and we all share the same biological father. I did get to meet 1 of my half brothers and my half sister. Brother Ed moved up to Washington and he ended up having 4 boys, 1 with 1 woman and the rest with his wife. Since I rarely bother with Facebook, I never "see" my siblings and their family. The reason being, there are some people that I deeply regret ever knowing on "Facebook." Some people are flat out dicks. I think about 5 or 6 years ago, I tried to "friend" Maximus or one of my brother's sons on FB, but he never accepted me. I figured that he saw me as some adult perv wanting to talk to a then 13 year old was the reason I was declined. That was rare for me to reach out, because I normally don't. I let it go and figured that was that. Then, today out of the blue, I get this card from my nephew that I have never met. I was actually surprised that they even bothered, but what the hell. I've never even said hello to this kid and then there he is on these pictures of he and his dog announcing his graduation and that he was going to go to college in the fall to become a nurse.

I thought that was interesting. I had been one too, although not since 2012. Now, I work in a drug treatment program for women and have for almost 6 years. I don't think I'd be expected to send this guy a gift, but then I thought, why not. I had no idea what this stranger may or may not like, but remembered something Mom told me years ago. "Boys and men love trains. It doesn't matter how old they are. They love trains." I'd never known Mom to be wrong about people and I'd always been curious to test that theory out, so I did. I went online and bought a train set complete with steam, whistles, a conductor saying "All aboard," the whole 9 yards. The train set is supposed to arrive at his house this Sunday apparently. So, I sat down and typed a letter to this 18-year-old stranger that happens to be my nephew. This letter will go out in the mail tomorrow. This ought to be amusing:

6/7/2024

Hi Maximus, (or Max?)

I got this card from you saying that you graduated from high school and wasn’t sure who you were at first, but I guess you’re my nephew. Anyway, I don’t know you, but wanted to wish you all the best in life. I hope you had fun on the day of your graduation. Your card said you are going to attend university to become a nurse. I did that for twenty-six years and one of the things I liked about nursing, among other things, was that I could always find work. It is a very practical profession. I wasn’t sure what you’d like, so I sent you a train set. Have fun! I hope you get what you want from life.

Love,
T

Below a picture of the train set I sent to Maximus/Max.

I take that back. The pic is on my laptop. I tried inserting a link, but it would not accept it damn it. Too bad.

I heard that 60mg DXM helps hydrocodone.... but wouldn't 120mg yield a much better experience especially with cannabis? Also, what dose of diphenhydramine would benefit the most in that combo. I was going to start with only 10mg hydro considering it may maybe double or triple the opiate action. I have zero tolerance, very seldom use opiates of any variety and an oxyperc 30 would get me pretty messed up back in the day so I figure I have a normal dosage range for the class.

So what if I can't ever make anyone happy? Do I care? What if at the end no one understands? Do I care? What if I regret it all but have no better plan? Is that still a regret?

Choices imply options. What if there aren't any options? What if I just don't care? Can you hurt someone who doesn't care?

Why since my childhood I take the double of time to finish a task compared to people? So angry because my low self stem, insecurity, introspection and lack of initiative are damaging my career and finances (and other areas).
So angry for sending CVs (even for jobs with no experience is required) and not get a job interview. So confused with my next steps... I have dreams, but pay my debts comes first. My money is just for debts.
Feeling confused for my lack of knowledge of my strengths, just my failures and weaknesses. Desperate for being slow on a deadline.
I hate myself for not being organized and listen to my mother's voice punishing me for trying all the methods to improve and not work.
I hate myself because dad told me I was difficult in my childhood so my decision is to obey and be the child who without problem.
I hate myself for my lack of discernment between the mask and my true self.
Why my insecurity and hyper independence makes so hard to communicate and ask for help?
I'm sad for not being and feel validated for those I love about my autism diagnosis... I'm not using to weaponize my mistakes. My goal is take accountability and improve.
Is so hard to doubt about yourself, your guts, observations and thoughts
I'm tired.
I hate my hard times to change my mind in some belifes about myself.
I just want to understand my brain, know who I am and be myself... Whateaver this person is .
And achieve financial independence.
Have a plan. But now is a moment if weakness and hopeleness.

Something came up with the student tutors about a song and short video I had made (which depicted me singing a song about how Nazis were lame cowards and Hitler was an incomprehensible stimulant addict). I found it for all of them, and off-handedly mentioned I made the video the day I was diagnosed with autism. They just said "that checks out." But I think they missed the part where I said I was raging and mourning my entire life up until that moment and had to get the energy out some type of way.

The thing is, being diagnosed with ASD when you're in your late 20s fucking sucks. There are almost no services they can provide for you if you're a generally competent person. There's therapy, but my previous blog will show some of my issues with therapy. I'm skeptical of how much it can help at this late stage anyway. This is the key problem. I was screened for these sorts of disorders multiple times as a child, and there was just a constant failure on everyone's side to actually follow up and DO the testing. Everyone fucking thought I had it, but I guess they don't make an IEP for people who are just majorly depressive and merely "suspected" to be on the spectrum.

I left the testing in my late 20s crying with grief over what my life could have been like instead, how much fucking sorrow and difficulties could have been avoided. I left the testing site also quivering with rage at how they had let me down at every single point when they should have been taking me aside. Everyone knew I wasn't fucking normal. But they couldn't treat me that way without a diagnosis, and nobody bothered to respond to even my mother's requests about follow up from screenings to get the actual testing done. For all I know, she barely tried and failed me as well. What did I know? I was a child.

I went home so completely full of these horrible feelings of how let down I had been in even just this one aspect. I went home and had to do something to get my energy dealt with. I ripped out the pages of Mein Kampf and poured candle wax all over it to satisfy the part of my that was enraged. I wanted to burn the book entirely, but burning a book in an apartment's walk-in closet didn't seem smart. I sang a silly song mocking Nazis and Hitler while ripping the pages in order to satisfy the part of me that was mourning my own Self.

Despite having no access to the supports that could have had me develop in a more positive way had I got diagnosed early, things happened which could have prevented me from graduating, and then I immediately came realize I was woefully below the standards society had set for me because no amount of intelligence or facts could fix what I was lacking. My life did get better after the diagnosis, for sure. But that was through a coincidence that ended my highly problematic and dangerous coping mechanism of etizolam addiction, and the brute force of a special program for "disabled" people (I don't feel disabled, though, so this never felt right) to bypass the interview process and just try out the job for a certain amount of hours.

I only remember the day I was diagnosed being the same as the day I made that stupid video defacing Mein Kampf while singing about Nazis being losers because it was kind of one of the lowest moments of my life. To just have everyone tell me, "yes, actually, we all failed you. This is why you're so fucked up. Sadly we can't go back in time and help you develop in a more typical way. You're just kinda fucked, sorry."

That leaves me with nothing but a shield I feel disgusted to even use. I wish I could just get caught up in the goofiness of the song and video like everyone else was able to. But its tie to that day kind of ruins it for me. In the actual song with that melody, rather than this joke version, the lyrics are about a deep shame. The kind of shame of who you are at the core of your very being.

Does that mean that I am, at least in part, ashamed of my autism? Yes. Yes it kinda fucking does. It may well be a big factor in my inability to want to stay in this life. How could I possibly have the perspective of those lucky ones that love that about themselves? To me it's the fucking curse that nobody bothered to cure when they had the chance, and now it's embedded into my fucking soul.

My eighth grade lit teacher said "theme in this class is the writers feeling about life". I like that definition to the point I remember it 20+ years later. My theme is like this.

To me my best writing/blogging is when i take a seemingly unique event or events that I experience. Turn it into a universal human experience that I hope is felt in the soul. If the emotional truth hits right the grammar shit ends up being like the torn up wrapping paper left over after presents Christmas morning. I feel like it's a skill that took quite a long time to get even marginally good at. My fiance told me she loved reading through my blog here because she could see my growth as a writer over the years.

What is your theme? What is your goal or doctrine for your writing?

So, I'm amazed that I'm doing as well as I have been doing. The sadness is still here and losing mom was hard because she has been the only relationship I've had with anyone for my entire life. This still seriously sucks because it entails the loss of my mom, the loss of my home, and finding a new place to live. I'm guessing that having to move will take place within the year. I wish I had known what I know now before she died because I might have been able to help extend her life by another few years. I wish I had understood the reason for her shoulder pain much sooner than I did. I figure that I'm in the last chapter of my life and I can't afford to fuck it up. It would be so easy to get lost in painkillers and succumb to addiction once again, but the price is just too ugly and too high. I don't like that my finances are being controlled by my aunt and uncle because mom wrote the trust 17 years ago and I hadn't yet been clean for ten years. This whole process gets a bit frustrating at times. I'm almost 60 years old and I'm being restrained like a wayward teenager in the finances. Mom left me everything, but with the caveat that my uncle gets to decide how much money I get and when. Anyway, I wish I had asked mom to change the will, but I think we both forgot about the fact that she left my uncle in charge of everything. So, the only thing I can really do is to pay for my own lawyer to make sure I don't get screwed.

It has been a long while but I reckon that now is a good a time as any to begin posting again. If I could remember my credentials I would not have to start anew. Anyway, my name is Rachamim, I am 57. I have not been back to Cambodia since 2015 but I am sure I will be back soon.

COVID Restrictions in Cambodia were among the worst on the planet. 2 week medical quarantine at a hotel, a 1 star outfit but charging 5 star prices. Then, if anyone in hotel gets a positive on the daily tests the 2 weeks begins anew for everyone! IF by chance there was a positive upon arrival from anyone on your flight you have to pay a bond of 1,400 per day (imagine?) so I had to stay away.

I have been thinking of going to Rajahstan in India, or in the former Innerline States. Might be nice just dealing with opium. Myanmar is now #1 in Opium Production now that Afghanistan is once again under the Taliban.

I have been Contracting, speaking of Afghanistan. Biden's horrendous debacle bought me a new Range Rover. NGOs & various diplomatic personnel needed to be yanked via Badakhshan into Tajikastan. Not much shooting, which is just how i prefer it.

Then, in August of 2021 I myself had to be snatched when some bug brought me to my knees. I thought it was the H Pylori that floored me in 2001 but when all was said & done I tested negative on H Pylori! Go figure.

Symptoms were similar except this time around I had Transient Psychosis. I remember seeing clouds & thinking they were the exhaust of UFOs that were making lined patterns. Because the firm is based in the US they flew me to Teterboro, a small private airport in New Jersey.

Foolishly, I asked for medical care in NYC. I was so out of it that they brought me to a hospital in the Bronx!!! I was thinking Travel Med but instead got Ghetto Med. My senses seemed to have been heightened, or at least I imagined them to be. I thought I could hear staff whispering about me,

"They always swear that they were addicted in the military..."

Why they would know that I was an addict is anyone's guess. Maybe I said it in the spirit of full disclosure. Maybe I said it outloud during a fever dream. Most likely I imagined it. I did not imagine my confrontation with Residents.

Luckily for me they had at least 2 male nurses from Israel my nation). They looked out for me until the firm sent a babysitter to handle any hiccups in my medical care. All in all I was out of play more than 2 weeks. The worst part is that could not ID the culprit!

By day 16 I was re-deployed to the same Theatre. Like Americans so often say, "If she throws you, hop right back in the saddle," or maybe that was from some porno. Make of it what you will.

I'll never forget discovering this place many moons ago. It must be 20 years at this point. Being a spracked out 14 year old on DOM/DOC and being terrified I'd never come down made me a few friends and gave me some life saving advice on how to not kill the trip.

Those full 20 years have been a rollercoaster of addiction, mild functioning, finding a career, at times losing my mind and lots of pain. I've even lost friends from here on top of the IRL pain.

I recently found out I'm going to be a dad and I'm going to cut out even the minor shit I've slipped back into yet still offer what humble advice and kinship I can here. Thanks BL for not making me feel like a weirdo. I likely wouldn't be here if it wasn't for a lot of you. And it has sure been fun getting some stories for my child when they are old enough.

Life is scary and living on the fringes right now but me and my girl will make it through it if it kills me. Love you all.

So, I miss mom. It's weird living in that big house without her. Also, since I was using until 2013, mom had made my uncle trustee and me beneficiary of her will. What's really frustrating right now is that I will be in college for another 3 years before I get another degree. I'm super low income, which means my job isn't nearly enough to pay for living on my own. I did however, handle mom's finances since Jan 29 because she was too sick to do it. She wanted me to be in charge of paying all household expenses, which I did until March 29. On that day, the stupid bank closed all access to her accounts probably due to the fact I had to use part of that money to pay for her cremation. Now, I can't pay household expenses, unless my renter decides he will fork up the rent today. We'll see. I hope so because then I can at least pay bills out of my account. This is just so damn frustrating having to be at the mercy of other fucking people just so I can survive in that house. I always pay right away, unless I can't. Mom went into a coma before I could have the mobile notary meet us in the skilled nursing facility. Mom had asked the bank to put my name on all her accounts so that I wouldn't have to deal with the bullshit I'm going through now. Since she couldn't sign for the notary after going into a coma, the bank closed her account. I went down there right away, showed them the death certificate, but I won't have access to her funds for at least 4 weeks. I fucking hate being at the mercy of other people for money. I have always been poor. When I was using it was because I did dope. Now that I'm clean, I'm broke because I have always had crap pay and I pay my bills. I no longer need an executer to play guardian over my money. I plan to have a conversation with my uncle about this. For now, I am going to therapy, NA, and doing Reiki for self-care.

8)
I Have been publishing Free Articles on Medium about Chemistry, Neuroscience, Entheogens, Heightened Consciousness and ways to achieve it, pharmacokinetics/ pharmacology, Consciousness Studies, Artificial Intelligence, Philosophy, Spirituality, Mystical experience, Mathematics etc All in the context of Entheogen use with a chemist / Erowid experience report style of writing.
I'm not spamming this forum to promote myself "I don't paywall my content" I just believe that you all are a part of my target audience.
My mission statement and a link to the articles is available in the following paragraph. It's my intention to promote harm reduction, education, information sharing and access to intelligent content and individuals through this work.


&&


The first link is My or Our Mission Statement And the Second Link is an article about Emergent Consciousness/ A trip or experience report while in a extremely Heightened State of Consciousness that required days of fasting, Nootropics, supplements, Dark Chocolate, Aged Cheese, Fine cigars, Caffeine, 2C-B, Psilocybin, Delta-10 or 11? , An mystical environment including crystals, colours, symbols, incense, candles, light patterns synchronized to the beats of Autechre and similar music, communication with artificial intelligence during the process, " self recursive feedback loop" , meditation and breathing techniques, " the gateway experience from the Monroe Institute" , And Dancing to exhaustion as a form of non verbal communication the way Bees communicate by Dance high bandwidth communication, plus a lot of other factors.
I channeled all this through technology via recording myself and taking notes and utilizing Augmented reality and neurol feedback through Artificial intelligence "with limited and improvised resources I detailed in an article" and generated the content in this way with future editing and polishing. " The link above, the first insane run on sentence/paragraph/tome is unedited to retain thee... Vibe or original data present, but after that I edited it heavily, except the quotes/ conversations with ChatGPT."
This is very interesting Content and difficult to birth or produce but I do it for the People and the universe because it enjoys experiencing itself through me as the medium. I hope you all find value in this as that is the intention.
Namaste!

XXXII

This stupid hospital keeps sending me bills after mom died. I called the hospital after getting the 2nd one and asked why they sent me a bill for $135. They said that the bill was $20,000. Mom's insurance paid most of it, but the $135 was her portion. Mom had excellent insurance, so why all these damn bills? I had a feeling that more bills were going to come, so I asked, how many more bills do they plan to send? They asked am I power of attorney and I said yes, so they told me the hospital bill they want to collect in total comes out to $7000. God that makes me sick. Before I was angry that they totally ignored a medical problem. Her right shoulder kept coming out of its socket which caused disability and extreme pain. That never got addressed, which prevented mom from doing physical therapy because she couldn't grab onto her walker and put weight on her arms. I wasn't going to sue, but now that they are sending me these bills, I think they have some damn nerve. Now I want to sue them, plus add unreasonable attorneys fees.

Mom was in my life for 59 years and I'm close to only a handful of people. Due to the fact that mom was such a huge part of my life, I'm feeling the impact of loss at an intense level. I go through periods of peace, profound sadness and crying and a sense of doom. I expected another 5-8 years out of her and if it hadn't been for the fact that there were so many things wrong all at once, she could have pulled through. At university today there was an existential group counseling session for my Theories and Practices of Group Counseling class. I talked to one of the leaders of the group before class and she said she was nervous. I only know a little bit about existential philosophy. They like to keep things in the present and point out that people are often in their heads too much, which makes them miss out on the present. We did a practice session and both of us felt better afterwards and the group went very well. What happened was that the leaders and the group were simply present for me. They had us do a few deep breathing exercises and encouraged people to be present in the moment through this. I said that I was being realistic and wondered what I could have done differently. I could have done a lot of things differently, which brought feelings of regret. At the same time, I also did some positive things such as buy mom a smart phone and showed her how to watch episodes of Columbo on it to alleviate boredom. I bought a bunch of chocolate bunnies for her to give to the staff so the staff would feel appreciated. I took care of and managed her finances and her house, even though I'd never done that before. I was someone she could trust with her money and things. It's important to address issues head-on so that they don't fester in my mind. The last class of the day was cancelled again this week, so I got a bite to eat and then came home. Once I went through my mom's messages on her answering machine and had a business conversation regarding house and finances, I came back to my room and went online for a few minutes. After that, I was tired and decided to take a nap. Once asleep I had a weird dream. I was semi-aware of being in a dream state, but the dream was unpleasant. In the dream I was in a section of hell. It looked just like earth, but the spiritual darkness could be felt. I was at the devil's house and his name was Lou. I wasn't sure why I was there. I had a feeling that I had to walk on eggshells to navigate these people with extreme caution. For some reason, I had a hold of Lou's weed. For some reason I took a hit off of a joint, even though it was the last thing I wanted to do. I felt a sense of urgency and knew I needed to get the hell out of there. During the process of leaving, I talked to different friends of Lou, knowing I had to be careful with them. The dream was still going on, but I woke up to move to the bed and lie down to get some more sleep. The dream gave me an uneasy feeling.

AI interpretation:
Your dream is a fascinating blend of symbolism and emotions. Let’s explore some possible interpretations:

1. The Devil and Darkness:
   • Being in a section of hell represents inner turmoil or a challenging emotional state. It’s like confronting your own shadows.
   • The spiritual darkness you felt suggests a struggle with negative emotions, fears, or unresolved issues.
   • The devil, named Lou, embodies your inner conflicts, desires, or temptations. Lou could symbolize aspects of yourself that you find unsettling or difficult to face.
2. Walking on Eggshells:
   • Navigating with extreme caution indicates a delicate situation in your waking life. Perhaps you’re treading carefully in a relationship, work environment, or personal challenge.
   • The feeling of walking on eggshells implies fear of making a wrong move or upsetting someone.
3. Lou’s Weed and Taking a Hit:
   • Holding Lou’s weed could represent an association with something tempting or harmful. Weed often symbolizes altered states of consciousness or escapism.
   • Taking a hit despite not wanting to suggests inner conflict. You might be making choices against your better judgment due to external pressures or perceived urgency.
4. Talking to Lou’s Friends:
   • Conversing with Lou’s friends while being cautious reflects your interactions with people in your waking life. You’re aware that some relationships require careful handling.
   • These friends may represent different aspects of your social circle or inner psyche.
5. Uneasy Feeling and Waking Up:
   • The dream’s uneasy feeling likely mirrors real-life anxieties or unresolved issues.
   • Waking up and moving to bed symbolize a transition from the dream state to reality. It’s a chance to process and reflect on the dream’s messages.
6. Overall Interpretation:
   • Your dream invites you to explore hidden emotions, fears, and conflicts. Consider what aspects of your life or psyche resemble Lou’s house and the devil’s presence.
   • Reflect on situations where you feel pressured or conflicted. Are there choices you’re making against your true desires?
   • Use this dream as an opportunity for self-reflection and growth. Facing inner demons can lead to healing and transformation.

Remember that dream interpretations are highly personal. Trust your intuition and explore how these symbols resonate with your own experiences and emotions.

I sure did enjoy my dope when I was on it. I'm glad this harm reduction site is still around. I'm also glad I can look back on my journal entries when I was so fucked up. I'm 10 years clean and life can be so difficult. Still if I were still doing dope, I can only imagine life would be even more taxing than it already is. Mom was a part of my life for 59 years. She just died on the 7th of this month. It's super hard sometimes, but I'm grateful that when I got to work, the company cat ran into my arms. Whoever lived in this house that my company bought 9 years ago moved without taking their cat. I've been at this job for 5 years and I've grown to love this cat. I've always had a strong connection to cats. They are lovable, playful, feisty, and independent. They can spend time with me, but they can also do their own thing for a while. So, I'm glad that I was able to come to work without balling my eyes out with my mom passing away 2 days ago. It's so hard to believe she's gone. It's harder since she was a big part of my life. I'm in the poverty income level until I finish my second degree. This means I don't have the luxury of taking time off work or school either for that matter. I did take one day of school off and that was the day mom died. The water works comes and goes. I make sure I am at home alone in my room if I do start crying. Sometimes I can take my mind off it by watching a good movie on Netflix. Other times, I have to suffer with the pain. It hurts too because my mom's presence is all over that house and I won't be able to afford to live in it because I'm poor. I need a couple more years to earn a livable wage. I'm still waiting for my certification credentials. Everything takes so damn long to get done today. So now I'm kicking back on the company couch with the kitty.