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Last night I had multiple dreams of Jamal and me

I only have time for one right now

We we're driving down 5 free way up to Oakland after the day at the magical dolphin lake in Canuck land , to get some drugs and I was giving a hj and was laughing and I was smiling I felt the love I felt his cock I felt the warm ness of that night and his cum in my hand

Rip jbaby

Hi there, I need some relationship advice. If you read and respond it would be much appreciated.

So, my boyfriend and I have been together since August 2013.

How we met and how I became a heroin addict: We met by him being on the street, trying to make money, and by me seeing him around time and stopping to talk to him. I thought he was homeless and trying to get money for food and drugs, and wanted to help him by not giving him money, but instead giving him food, advice on how to get food stamps and somewhere to stay. I asked if he had an addiction problem like myself, so I could tell him off the local substance misuse place nearby for help. He denied. I exchanged numbers with him and told him (after seeing him quite a few times) that he could text me and come to mine to get off the streets and have a cooked meal and comfort. Of course, he wasn't really homeless, he just pretended to be so people would give him money so he could score heroin with.

I was at the time extremely depressed and suicidal, and one horrible night phoned him asking if he had any opiates (so I could try them before I died and then take an overdose. He didn't know of this of course.) Anyway, he finally started communicating with me properly and got to my house in 2 minutes! I told him I just wanted strong opiates, he put a small amount in intop of mine and picked up. He wouldnt say what it was for a long time, just 'some opiate' and finally admitted when I asked if it was heroin that it was indeed. He smoked the stuff though, and we smoked a small amount together. It numbed my depression out enough to put my suicide plan on hold, till I could needles. Days went on and we met up and smoked every single one of them. I didn't give a damn about my well being or being addicted due to losing my job, screwing up uni and the misery of fast tapering off benzos. My plan was to use and then one day soon take an OD. I just wish that just once, when I asked to get it, he had warned me how of how bad the wds are, and how if I thought my life was shit it was going to become 100 times worse. God damn. If anyone asked me for gear and didnt use, I would ask why they wanted to and try and help them instead of supply it to them without question. Especially if it was more than a one shot thing- I saw high everyday after I first smoked with him the 'opiate' and he never once said anything about how heroin has messed his life up and does it to pretty much everyone. I guess getting high was more important than looking out for someone else's best interests.

I'm wondering now if I should end it. I want to give up and am methadone, he is on it as well (thanks to me, although he has never thanked me for it). He says he wants to quit but won't go a day without heroin. He won't really talk to me unless its about heroin. He doesn't bother to make conversation with me about... Well.. Anything other than picking up, smoking heroin, money. I try and get him to engage in conversation other than this, but dont get a response other than a nod. I have realised that due to this, I often apologise for talking and go back to sitting in silence, waiting for the next smoke as we watch some crap tv.

I'm not even the most chattiest of people, have always been the listener in the past, but I am starting to yearn for a proper conversation, a friendly chat, anything! I want to do things other than smoke dark and occasionally cycle to pick up and get him some food.

I wish he would just give me a tiny amount of emotional support, as I try and do anything I can to help him. For example-nJust a hug or asking if Im okay after I saw my doctor this week, afterwards I met him and told him "that was horrible, he grilled me about made me explain every problem I've had since a kid". He nodded, not even looking at me, instead scanning who was around him which he always does in public, and eventually said something about picking up. (I was asked, like an interview, to tell my g.p about my problems with abuse as a kid, teen, adult, sexually and violently. Also on how I felt after a close family member died, my past domesticity violent bf that put up, being strangled out in the woods, everything bad with the g.p just asking the me the next topic). My bf knows of things such as my eating disorder, depression, PTSD and anxiety disorder but has never helped support me, other than getting smoke. I feel so guilty even saying that he doesn't but it's true..

I have been wanting to write this entry for a while now but every time I start I get a sentence or two in and stop. I just can't get it out into a thought I like the sound of. I feel like all my entries center on the same themes and I worry it's a symptom of the staleness that has enveloped my entire life.
I guess it starts with my geographical location on the planet. The thought of staying here doesn't excite me at all but the thought of leaving terrifies me to my core. I want to live somewhere happening somewhere with a good night life, liberal politics, and cheap pot. I have been thinking about seasonal work in Colorado. Maybe start in the summer season. I know running from my problems won't solve them. But going somewhere where I don't know the way to the dope mans house can't be a bad thing.

I feel a little better getting that out of my head. I'm gonna smoke a bowl and chill. I got more to say later.

%)

Make alittle love

Get down tonight

Get down tonight

Get down get down get down

Get dewed tonight

everything ive said b4, losing my arm, none of it stops a real junkie. im 43 and been doing this for 31 of them. in the last 24, ive done weed, booze, percs, ambien, and meth.....u know wat that makes me.........one pathetic sum beech.

Shortly after out accident we had been invited to a trauma survivors support group that is held once a month & its for people who have been through some sort of severe traumatic event. We have never gone to any of the meetings for numerous reasons. The biggest reasons have been that we always had my step-daughter on those weeks & its an hour drive, one way. I would feel bad leaving her all evening & I know she wouldn't want t go. Now our weeks have been switched & for the first time & we were able to go.

I'm so glad we went. We got to meet people who have lost so much, just like we have. My husband actually enjoyed it & wants to go back next month. We have found a group of people who understand what we are going through & are willing to help in anyway they can, even though they don't know you. There was a guy there who wrecked his sport bike going over 150 mph. He is now a double amputee, both arms. He is only 25 & was 20 when it happened. We met another guy who has lost his leg in a forklift accident and many others, a lot from motorcycle accidents & some from car accidents. He exchanged numbers with the guy who lost both arms. This experience made us both realize that we could both be a lot worse off & there is always someone worse off than you out there. My husband has considered amputating his left arm since it is basically useless & he wears it in a sling 24/7, but that is his decision. Its a hard decision to make!

This was a great experience for us both & I'm looking forward to going back next month!

The universe is made up of only time. You can have infinite complexity in a 2-dimensional enviroment by freeing yourself from common lore: there are no squares, every change in the length of sides constitutes a novel and independent shape.

So the underlying world is made up of geometry, with units of time flowing through structures of time, thusly all you need to chart creation is a ruler and protractor. The universe arises from this arithmetic and geometry via a chaotic emergent information cloud. Even the chaos is tame, however: the different values calls up information from an index, which is indexed for speed of use.

The warmer weather and oncoming summer months have me both excited and ambivalent. I'm ambivalent because lately I've been reading and listening to a variety of feminist literature and discourse. A common thread running throughout is that of the "heterosexual male gaze." From what I understand this means the way our patriarchal, male dominated systems encourage objectification and sexualization of the feminine form in unrealistic, distorted and unfair ways. In relation to magazines, advertising, and other media sources, this makes perfect sense to me. However, there also seems to be an implicit suggestion that heterosexual males simply looking at females is reason enough to accuse them of sexual objectification - or safely assume they are looking at them through "dominating," objectifying eyes.

My ambivalence centers mainly around going to the beach. If I'm at the beach and I see a woman wearing a bikini and I find them attractive, how does looking at them automatically mean I'm being sexually objectifying? There's a loud feminist voice which might say, you are doing the wrong thing; she didn't visit the beach today to be ogled by the "heterosexual male gaze-" but I find this position confusing. In one sense it's expecting males who find females attractive by nature and instinct to repress and deny the fact they find women attractive. Secondly, there appears to be a very clear double standard. Many times I've been at the beach with female friends, even my sister, and heard them swoon out loud about the six pack on this guy and the shoulder muscles on this other one. This suggests that sexually objectifying people you're sexually attracted to is completely normal and needn't be meticulously "kept-in-check" by some method of though-policing.

What I want to ask feminists is this. What do you suggest I do when I go to the beach this summer, and I see a woman in a bathing suit who I find myself sexually attracted to? Immediately avert my gaze in fear of potentially objectifying her? Stare at my feet? Look only at men so I don't get sexually stimulated? Stay at home? I'm feeling lost here. Perhaps someone could clear this up for me. No years previous to this have I ever sat at a beach and thought perhaps I was re-enforcing the patriarchal, dominating power imbalances feminists speak of simply for having a pair of eyes and working genitals.

Awesome mix. Just sayin.

Started selling off our stuff. I know its just stuff but it fucking sucks.

i posted in other drugs a bit over a month ago that i missed a shot of ambien and the result was the amputation of left arm just above the elbow. in my post i said no more ambien, well, i stumbled on some yesterday and while i didnt shoot them a did eat 3 10mg pills. felt relaxed, next thing i know i come to about 5 hours later. no recollection of anything. checked phone, made several calls and sent a few garbled texts. when will enough be enough???? death??

also and this is of course my opinion, i think ambien is the scariest drug ive ever encountered. i dont know if 30-200mg is gonna put me down, i black out, all kinds of shit, im more scared of it than i ever was heroin. with h i could at least take a taste to gauge how potentate it was. not so with ambien, and its legal...fuk me.

i made this a blog in part so i didnt have to necro bump the original, lost an arm thread, but mainly im just embarrassed to post this in the other drugs forum for the world to see. i realize anyone can read this, but its more of a stumble upon thing. peace all.

I realize I have given the short version of the accident but not the full story. So I figure now is a good a time as any. Our story... On March 17th my husband Bobby & I took off to meet a good friend. We were itching to get the bikes out after a long winter. To be completely honest I truly don't remember what happened that evening. I don't remember the day before that or quite a few of the days after, when I woke up in ICU. I only know what I have been told. Luckily Boomer, our friend riding with us that day, was not hit by this idiot who crossed the center line & took out Bobby first & them hit me. So this dude took out not one but two motorcycles & the riders. Our friend was very lucky & narrowly escaped the same fate as Bobby & I. From what I understand Bobby's bike landed on him, pining him to the ground. I was thrown from my bike, I believe. We were both air lifted to Charlotte, CMC's trauma unit. They didn't expect Bobby to live, he was bleeding out. His carotid artery was severed on site. I'm not sure they expected me to make it either either. I was intubated at the wreck site. I had the worst possible trauma score you can have & still be alive, when I was admitted that evening. I mean how many people live after being hit head on by an F150 truck while on motorcycles. There is usually one outcome to an accident like this one & its generally a one way ticket. Yet we are both still here. When we arrived at the trauma unit our list of injuries grew! Bobby's artery had to be re-routed & a stent placed. He also had an anyurism of the heart, simply from the impact. They placed mesh netting around his heart. His almost lost his left arm. It was crushed & mangled. However after at least 6 surgeries, they were able to save his arm, which he still has lots of pain in which is caused from a brachial plexus avulsion. Basically the nerves that connect the arm to the spinal cord were ripped out of his spinal cord. That is what avulsion means. His left leg still has a tib/fib fracture & this is the second titanium rod they have placed in his leg. They have also tried a bone graft, which did not take. There is a very large piece of bone missing from his leg, they actually searched the wreck site that evening for it, but it was never found. He also had a break in the ankle of the same leg. He had some cracked ribs & his collar bone was fractured. Bobby also had two strokes sometime during the incident due to the large amount of blood that he lost. He was non weight bearing on his left leg only, however considering the condition his left arm was in he is not able to use crutches. He had to be in a wheelchair once he was able to get out of the hospital bed. I was brought in with a large laceration on my head & the socket of my eye was broken & my nose. Obviously a severe concussion also. I had a few cracked ribs on the right side & a chest tube was placed due to a right side collapsed lung. I had numerous cracks in my pelvis which were really painful. My collar bone was also cracked. On my left leg I had a tibial plateau fracture (my knee cap was broken) they repaired that the night I arrived in the trauma unit. The left ankle was shattered & has 3 plates & approximately 27 screws. My right leg had a tib/fib fracture toward the ankle that they also set the evening I came in. The right knee was completely destroyed inside. When I read my medical records they originally said it was inoperable. After a few months I finally had surgery on the right knee to replace all the ligaments & tendons destroyed that night of the accident. I had so much going on they had to wait to do that surgery. It really tore that knee up! While still in the hospital they also placed a cast on my left wrist & the last couple of fingers. They were broken too.I also had a brachial plexus injury. However my nerves were only stretched, not ripped from my spinal cord. I was told it should get better on its on, but I still have problems with it. I was non weight bearing on both legs for over 4 months and just like my husband I was also wheelchair bound if I have go anywhere. I had a transfer/slide board that had become my friend for a few months. That board is how I would get into & out of the car, onto the toilet, or in & out the wheelchair & last was in & out of the shower, when I could finally have one. I was told I had 9 to 12 months of rehab on my right knee. So now after 3 months of basically being confined to the house, to the couch actually... Bobby has no control or use of his left arm, it is basically dead weight & he has to wear a sling, yet he has constant nerve pain throughout the left shoulder arm & hand. He had an appointment in Minnesota the middle of July to see a specialist that we hope could help him with his left arm. We were hoping they may be able to reverse some of the damage done & maybe get some function back. They did a nerve graft & a tissue transplant but it has helped none with the pain or function in the arm. Of course both bikes are totaled, not that it matters. So was that guys F150 truck. You can't ride a bike with one arm & this incident has pushed us over the edge so we have chosen to no longer ride motorcycles, too much was taken from us that evening. Riding was truly a passion for the both of us, that we will no longer be able to enjoy. Now we live each day in pain while trying to figure out how best to live this life we are left with. While this guy who hit us pays his traffic ticket & goes about his life. My mother was wonderful through all this. Without her I don't know what we would have done. She had to do everything for both of us. She would load us into her car & take us to our doctors appointments which were an hour one way. No trauma centers near where we live. We live in the country. So this is our story. Unfortunately it never gets any easier to tell or explain, no matter how much time passes.

Below are pics of our bikes, after the accident. I rode the black Ninja. You can see that the yellow one is a lot worse. It was hit first.

Question: "Do you know where I can get any syringes? I can get them through my dealer, but he charges too much for them."

Answer: This is such an important question because it’s critical for IV drug users to use a fresh needle each time they never_share_syringesinject. The best resource for needles is your local needle exchange. Don’t be afraid to go! It won’t be all creeps and low-life junky scum. Well, they'll mostly be junkies, but definitely not all scum! Most Needle Exchanges usually have lots of extra resources that I would highly recommend taking advantage of. The one closest to me prints out a schedule every month and includes activities like yoga, acupuncture, overdose prevention courses, safe shooting courses and a slew of groups for people interested in recovery, as well as Suboxone and Methadone treatment programs - all free to IV drug users! The user who directly asked me this question did live close to a needle exchange but didn't think she could get any without turning some in. Most needle exchange will offer anyone who comes in at least a few needles for free. Mine gives 10 needles - including all the supplies you could need to inject – to anyone who walks in the door, whether you exchange some or not. Most usually have special deal days as well. Like turn in 10, get 15, or even double exchange days - 2-for-1! I started by turning in a few needles at a time, now I turn in 700 at a time. (I don’t take advantage of the special deal days anymore. I figure I have enough).

I know that unfortunately many people don't live close to a needle exchange. And in some places merely being in possession of syringes is a crime that can get you locked up. It’s a sin, if you ask me, but it’s the way the world is. So instead of sticking it to the man and risk getting locked up by openly trading syringes, I would suggest using a more discrete method like mail order. If you buy in bulk, I've seen them as cheap as .17 cents online. Here are a couple of cheap places that I found.

Affordable Diabetes

Bulk Syringes

Vitality Medical

Many states allow anyone to purchase syringes as well. It's up to the local pharmacies to decide whether or not to sell to the public. In California, Walgreens is only magor pharmacy that sells them. It is $3.19 out the door for a pack of ten. Even though it's illegal to be in possession of syringes for drug purposes in New York, I personally know that Duane Reade also sells syringes to the public, I've bought them there before. It's more costly than a Needle Exchange or even online in bulk, but in a pinch these pharmacies can be a life saver. Do some research on your home state and see if any pharmacy sells syringes without question!

Using clean needles is so important. It’s literally a life or death matter. If my readers get nothing out of my blog but this, HepCComicI'd be happy. I use clean syringes all time, I slipped up a couple of times, only with my bf and now I have Hepatitis C. Years of safe shooting practice wasted by my one little indiscretion. I’m being proactive about it and it’s something that can be cured these days, but what a terrible thing to put your body through just for a quick high. If it means putting off getting high until you get home, or even until the next day, wait! It will always be worth it! Even Hepatitis C is a lot better than other diseases you could contract, like AIDS.

Communicable diseases are only one of the reasons to use a fresh needle every time. Using dirty syringes can lead to abscesses or other type of infections. In addition, the damage you do to your body by injecting with dull needles is sizable. It takes me a while to hit a vein. So, it’s not uncommon for me to go through four or five syringes during the course of one injection. When one gets too dull after trying a few different spots, then I swap it out for a fresh one. Keeping your veins fresh isn't just important so that you can keep shooting for years to come (if you choose to). It’s also important for medical situations. I've often thought about what would happen if I was in some kind of accident and needed an IV drip or blood. Where would they go? Not to mention that phlebotomists have only been successful one out of the last eight times I've tried to get blood drawn. When I needed to get my Hep C results, it took over a month and a half. And I always use a fresh needle and always have. This is just wear and tear after years of injecting. It will happen a lot sooner to you if you don’t take safe shooting practices seriously. Don't let these types of medical situations arise. Keep your veins in good shape by using a fresh needle each time.

So show society wrong and be a smart drug user. Just because you use junk doesn't mean you have to treat your body like junk!

Methadone Junky

Not an easy task! And I still haven't gone to bed! Posting it wasn't an easy task since I was tripping balls the whole time, lol. Finally it's ready! It took me all day to make it short enough to upload! Last nights attempt to shooting heroin, after I already injection LSD a couple hours early and was on a FANTASTIC Trip!

I'm leaving the USA in a few days. In preparation, I'm quitting heroin "cool turkey." I hate that I have to quit. I find that life is actually better on drugs than off them. With heroin, I have something pleasant to look forward to a few times a day. Not that it is the only thing I look forward to, but it enhances the non-drug things I enjoy about life. But I'm committed to quitting it here and now, gradually, rather than going through full withdrawals at the customs and immigration lines at a foreign airport. Even gradually, it sucks. I'm in pain, sweating, and it feels like I'm under a mountain of stress and anxiety.

I lived my early childhood in a mixed, mostly Puerto Rican neighborhood in south Florida. I had Puerto Rican playmates, and, constantly exposed to the Spanish language while living there, I was quickly becoming bilingual. We eventually moved to a part of the country whre only English was spoken, and I quickly forgot my spanish. I did pick up a lot of it again while traveling in South America. It was actually fun to practice there -- the natives appreciated the effort I had made to speak spanish and were never condescending.

Now I'm about to move overseas for work, and I want to be able to function in the language of my host country so I don't come across as some obnoxious american who thinks the whole world ought to speak english. I can read it quite well and write it OK, but speaking and understanding it spoken is very difficult. Memorizing 5000 words and learning grammar hasn't helped me at all. Out of desperation, I got an audio language course, the "Michel Thomas" method. This seems to be helping... It's very basic, but has a lot of tricks of pronunciation which are impossible to pick up from reading it. It has listening and speaking lessons as well. I'm finally able to follow basic conversations and understand radio broadcasts.

I was back in school. 8th grade. Something seemed like home-room. I was in there. Trying to figure out my schedule. There was a test. Had to think outside the box. 72-12 is 60 (inches) was one problem. Very basic. Estimating distance by rulers. I was with others from my class, but it didn't process that they were there and I wasn't alone in having to repeat.

I had let someone borrow baking soda. A teacher. I had been caught once between doors. I get chills, strange, as I write this. It was terrifying (?), and I don't know if it was me. A girl was moving. She lived above me. Going to live with her parents. A neighbor took her for ice cream. One who had a daschund... But not the same guy. The girl gave me gasoline, in a plastic gas-can, and these hair tie things that I thought were hers- that i thought I'd give to my nieces, but found out they were a male neighbors.

My dreams the past two nights have been about people leaving... In ways.

I had let the woman borrow baking soda. My teacher. As I approached her to borrow some of hers, as I was going to use it to thicken peanut butter to caulk a hole as part of a project/thought experiment for the class, she was unresponsive. She had just told me to do it. I kept asking her if I could use the stuff I thought was baking soda. A black dog that seemed familiar wouldn't leave her side. She wouldn't move. I alerted the others. A girl I think. I moved her body- the teachers. She had been hunched over as if she was working on something... Around over a microwave oven. I moved her body, at this point associating her fully with my mother. Her body was lifeless, stiff, cold. Eyes glasses over, but dark. Almost dull like. Skin blue-white. Dead. I screamed, expressing stress with the situation. My mother was dead.

Two screams. I'm pretty sure they were out loud in life. I meant to wake up 4 hours ago. It was 1231.

Needle Meet LDS

Poking Around for Hours....​

I apologize for not staying updated on my blog. I've recently suffered a great loss . My boyfriend and life-partner was killed in a car crash a little shy of three weeks ago. He was the sole fatality in a single car accident, where speeding was likely the cause. Unfortunately, I watched the video, and there is almost no question he died instantly, which should give me some little relief. I wanted to clear up any misinformation for anyone who suspected overdose. This is without a doubt the most heart-wrenching, indescribably painful, life crushing tragedy I have ever experienced. It's taken me this long to even turn on my computer. Obviously, daily haiku's are put on hold for a while. This Labor Day weekend during the three night Phish run at Dick's Sporting Goods in Commerce, CO would have been our three year anniversary. I still plan on attending, despite how painful it may be. We met on PhantasyTour.com when I sold him a TAB ticket for 4 hits of acid. I was with someone at the time, but little did I know I had found my soul-mate and after about 4 months of friendship and Phish tour, we finally made it official at Dick's 2011. We had three wonderful, loving, kinky, laughter filled, years. We both struggled massively with severe addictions to both heroin and meth, but we had come a long way and he had recently graduated from rehab. NO matter how carefully I tried to compose them, I have no words to describe what a devastating experience this has been and how how utterly and completely destroyed I feel. It's not that I don't want to live life, I would just rather be with him where ever he is. At this point my world is so dark, I seem to have forgotten what light is like and have little faith that I'll experience it again. Although time has shown me that eventually life keeps going after these kinds of tragedies, although I don't know how. I sincerely wish I was in the car with him, or even instead of him. Greg, I cannot express how deeply I loved you. I would give anything in this universe to have you back by my side to share every detail of life with. I'm so unbearably sorry for anything I've ever said or done that would make you doubt that. I would trade my entire life for just one more day with you. Just one more chance to tell you how much I love, to kiss you, to hold you, to just be in your presence. You were there for me when times were darkest and helped me see that light was possible. And now it's all gone again and I have no idea how I'm going to make it through without you. Please be there for me when it's my turn to pass to the other side. Neither of us were perfect. But you were perfect for me. Please forgive me for all my wrongs and remember my love for you. I wish everyone had the chance to know the wonderful, caring, loyal, sweet-hearted, brilliant, creative and truly unique person that you were. You're passion for life was contagious and you brought out the best of me every single day of our lives together. You helped to form a large part of me, a good part that wants to take control of her own life. There will not be a moment of any day that I will not think of you and long for you. I never believed in soul mates, but you are my soul mate. There's nothing more to say. I don't know when the next time I'll have the strength to blog again, but I'm trying to pull my life together. I just don't know how long it will take me.

Here's the story if anyone cares to read it. Just a short blurb that ended my entire life. http://www.latimes.com/local/lanow/la-me-ln-crash-fire-110-freeway-downtown-20140729-story.html

It usually happens around this time today ...
craving hard but no sweats . no chills.
weird.
Too good to be true style weird.

Methadone Merry-Go-Round