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First of all, I have nobody to blame but myself because I was warned that this chick was bad news but I had heard that about other girls in the past and found it was usually just based off rumors and misinformation. But in order to keep this simple lets just call her Q.
Now I had known who Q was before we started dating, and I knew that she was a very polarizing figure. Some people found her to be a problem wherever she went, whereas others considered her a true friend who didnt judge other people and simply was misunderstood. One of my other friends (we'll call him X) actually had a pretty big falling out with Q after his family made it clear they did not want him seeing her anymore, and it was through this friend I originally met her actually. I'll start out the day that happened.
I got a text at about 6pm asking me if I wanted to go meetup with some people and smoke some weed. Me being a pothead agreed rather quickly, and after picking up X we arrived at the house. It was a pretty beat down place if I had to be honest, although it wasn't falling apart either. Upon entering the house we were greeted by someone X knew (let's call him T) and he introduced me and we all shot the shit for a few minutes until X said "so are they almost here or what?". To which T affirmed that whoever "they" entailed, were indeed almost at the house.
So we go into his TV room and get ourselves situated and begin the process of rolling a blunt. With something to keep my mind occupied, the minutes flew by and the next thing I know the doorbell is ringing. T got up and opened the door and two people entered through the doorway. One was a guy I had never met before (last letter, let's call him G), and the other person was Q. I remember as they entered into the TV room I couldn't help but eyeball Q, she had a very nice bronzish skin tone and eyes that could stare into your soul. When she saw that I had a pile of weed broken up on the table, she immediately gravitated towards where I was sitting and introduced herself. I wasn't sure if she was really interested in me or just wanted to smoke but surprisingly G didnt seem to pay any attention as he was busy having a conversation with X the whole time.
So we all smoke a little bit, and proceed to watch the Phillies play the Mets on TV. Q had been talking to me the whole time basically and I couldn't help but feel like she didnt really enjoy hanging out with G at all. She would laugh at all my stupid jokes and then apologize for being so giddy when she smokes. I said it was no problem, and that she had a very sexy laugh (it made sense at the time, smokers will feel me). When I said that I could almost feel the couch getting wet, but I did not want to create any problems with G by hitting on her any further.
But then X tapped me on the shoulder and said he would be right back, and that he was going to run to get cigs with G. I was pretty high still, and part of me thought it was weird for him to do that but the other part of me just thought of my chance to really spit some game at Q, so I just kind of nodded and said "ok". So they both leave and I'm now sitting in a room with T and Q, and we had all just met each other really so it was kind of awkward. I felt like T realized this as he got up and decreed he had to go give his girlfriend a call or she would get pissed at him. So he goes into the other room and now its just me and Q left. I remember thinking about all the bad things I had heard about her, but dismissing them as hearsay after being around her for just that little bit of time. I asked her if she would ever make her boyfriend call her every night, to which she replied she did not have a boyfriend. I asked her about G and she said he was just someone she hung out with because he had a car and she could meet other people. I laughed after she said this, because it confirmed what I had been thinking the whole time. At that point she said "you have a pretty sexy laugh yourself", and I knew for sure I was going to hook up with this chick. Part of me wanted to take it slow, and wait until I wasnt stoned before making this decision, but her eyes were just fixed on mine and it was like I couldn't say no even if I had a gun to my head. She was just fascinating to me, how someone so notorious could be so kind and gentle. So I said fuck it, I am only going to be 18 once I might as well go for it, and I started to lean towards her. Before I could even get halfway there she more or less grabbed my head and we kissed for several minutes. At some point I remembered T would be returning to the room soon, so I pulled back and told her we should continue this at some other time, so as to not be disrespectful to T. We both exchanged numbers and made plans to text each other the next day. That night ended with X and G returning and everyone leaving after another blunt was rolled and smoked. I didnt say anything about Q to X because I didnt know how he would react, and some things are just better left unsaid.
So the next day I texted Q asking if she wanted to hang out and she replied back that she could in a half hour. I felt good because that gave me time to get a shower and make sure I was looking good. So 30 minutes go by and then 45 minutes and I decide to call her. She answers and says that she got caught in some traffic and would definitely be able to hang out in another half hour. I had no choice but to accept her explanation and finally, an hour later, she called me and told me to pick her up at her house. I picked her up and we went to a local shopping mall because she said she wanted to look at some earrings she was going to ask her Dad for her birthday. After we pulled into a parking spot, she put her hands around my head and we made out again for several minutes. I realized this was the first time we had been alone together since last night, and she couldn't do it when I was driving for obvious reasons but I was still somewhat taken aback that this girl was willing to hook up with a guy she had just met last night in a mall parking lot. Either way, it felt really damn good and left me feeling pretty happy as we entered the mall. I don't even remember what stores we went to inside really, it was more about just walking around together and getting to know each other better.
Eventually, she said she felt hungry and I put on my pimp hat and offered to buy her meal. She happily accepted and squeezed my hand to let me know she would not forget it, and her touch still made me melt at that point. I asked where she wanted to eat at, pointing out the food court had several large food chains to pick from, but she said she really wanted to go to a sit-down restaurant. I felt somewhat confused, since there were so many other choices to pick, but I wanted to keep up my catering to her and agreed to take her to TGI Fridays but explained I really didnt have that much money to spend on a large meal. I wound up spending 30 out of the 50 dollars I had, which meant I would only be able to buy one gram of weed later that night. I would never have used to let a girl persuade me to spend money on her like that before, but something about Q was different. I kept thinking back to how I felt entering the mall, and how I felt at T's house the other night, and how weed would never make me feel like that anyway. When I was with her I didnt even really think about weed, although it would still be nice to have. So that's how I rationalized it in my head, and Q said she would return the favor when we next hung out.
So for the next couple months we had a semi-boyfriend/girlfriend relationship going on, with me usually picking her up and smoking weed before going shopping somewhere. She was always making sure to keep me happy though, and it made me feel like the things I was buying her were somehow validated because of that. We had sex for the first time together about a week after meeting each other and I remember thinking in my head I was truly glad I met her. She was always there to cheer me up on a bad day, or turn a boring night into one of excitement and relaxation. And all I had to do was buy her some stuff every now and then which I figured all girlfriends would ask their boyfriends to do. It was definitely a good time in my life, and I still wish I could experience those months one more time.
But like any relationship, things started to become more difficult as we got to know each other better. I realized she was always a hassle to get a hold of when you needed her for something but the second she needed you for something it was expected for you to drop everything and immediately help her. Also, I soon decided I needed to remove myself from seeing her everyday because it was starting to become almost a part-time job. The sex was great in the beginning but after a while it just seemed like she didnt care anymore. Not that it was bad, it just wasnt the same. Plus, the neighborhood she lived in was kind of trashy, so I didnt really go over her house very often, except to pick her up really. She didnt really bring anything to the table besides giving me physical pleasure either, she was pretty unintelligent, had bad manners, dressed somewhat questionable, and I didnt even tell my parents about her because I knew they would not like her. I just told them I was always going over one of my friend's houses when I was really going to hang out with her.
*continued in comments*
Now I had known who Q was before we started dating, and I knew that she was a very polarizing figure. Some people found her to be a problem wherever she went, whereas others considered her a true friend who didnt judge other people and simply was misunderstood. One of my other friends (we'll call him X) actually had a pretty big falling out with Q after his family made it clear they did not want him seeing her anymore, and it was through this friend I originally met her actually. I'll start out the day that happened.
I got a text at about 6pm asking me if I wanted to go meetup with some people and smoke some weed. Me being a pothead agreed rather quickly, and after picking up X we arrived at the house. It was a pretty beat down place if I had to be honest, although it wasn't falling apart either. Upon entering the house we were greeted by someone X knew (let's call him T) and he introduced me and we all shot the shit for a few minutes until X said "so are they almost here or what?". To which T affirmed that whoever "they" entailed, were indeed almost at the house.
So we go into his TV room and get ourselves situated and begin the process of rolling a blunt. With something to keep my mind occupied, the minutes flew by and the next thing I know the doorbell is ringing. T got up and opened the door and two people entered through the doorway. One was a guy I had never met before (last letter, let's call him G), and the other person was Q. I remember as they entered into the TV room I couldn't help but eyeball Q, she had a very nice bronzish skin tone and eyes that could stare into your soul. When she saw that I had a pile of weed broken up on the table, she immediately gravitated towards where I was sitting and introduced herself. I wasn't sure if she was really interested in me or just wanted to smoke but surprisingly G didnt seem to pay any attention as he was busy having a conversation with X the whole time.
So we all smoke a little bit, and proceed to watch the Phillies play the Mets on TV. Q had been talking to me the whole time basically and I couldn't help but feel like she didnt really enjoy hanging out with G at all. She would laugh at all my stupid jokes and then apologize for being so giddy when she smokes. I said it was no problem, and that she had a very sexy laugh (it made sense at the time, smokers will feel me). When I said that I could almost feel the couch getting wet, but I did not want to create any problems with G by hitting on her any further.
But then X tapped me on the shoulder and said he would be right back, and that he was going to run to get cigs with G. I was pretty high still, and part of me thought it was weird for him to do that but the other part of me just thought of my chance to really spit some game at Q, so I just kind of nodded and said "ok". So they both leave and I'm now sitting in a room with T and Q, and we had all just met each other really so it was kind of awkward. I felt like T realized this as he got up and decreed he had to go give his girlfriend a call or she would get pissed at him. So he goes into the other room and now its just me and Q left. I remember thinking about all the bad things I had heard about her, but dismissing them as hearsay after being around her for just that little bit of time. I asked her if she would ever make her boyfriend call her every night, to which she replied she did not have a boyfriend. I asked her about G and she said he was just someone she hung out with because he had a car and she could meet other people. I laughed after she said this, because it confirmed what I had been thinking the whole time. At that point she said "you have a pretty sexy laugh yourself", and I knew for sure I was going to hook up with this chick. Part of me wanted to take it slow, and wait until I wasnt stoned before making this decision, but her eyes were just fixed on mine and it was like I couldn't say no even if I had a gun to my head. She was just fascinating to me, how someone so notorious could be so kind and gentle. So I said fuck it, I am only going to be 18 once I might as well go for it, and I started to lean towards her. Before I could even get halfway there she more or less grabbed my head and we kissed for several minutes. At some point I remembered T would be returning to the room soon, so I pulled back and told her we should continue this at some other time, so as to not be disrespectful to T. We both exchanged numbers and made plans to text each other the next day. That night ended with X and G returning and everyone leaving after another blunt was rolled and smoked. I didnt say anything about Q to X because I didnt know how he would react, and some things are just better left unsaid.
So the next day I texted Q asking if she wanted to hang out and she replied back that she could in a half hour. I felt good because that gave me time to get a shower and make sure I was looking good. So 30 minutes go by and then 45 minutes and I decide to call her. She answers and says that she got caught in some traffic and would definitely be able to hang out in another half hour. I had no choice but to accept her explanation and finally, an hour later, she called me and told me to pick her up at her house. I picked her up and we went to a local shopping mall because she said she wanted to look at some earrings she was going to ask her Dad for her birthday. After we pulled into a parking spot, she put her hands around my head and we made out again for several minutes. I realized this was the first time we had been alone together since last night, and she couldn't do it when I was driving for obvious reasons but I was still somewhat taken aback that this girl was willing to hook up with a guy she had just met last night in a mall parking lot. Either way, it felt really damn good and left me feeling pretty happy as we entered the mall. I don't even remember what stores we went to inside really, it was more about just walking around together and getting to know each other better.
Eventually, she said she felt hungry and I put on my pimp hat and offered to buy her meal. She happily accepted and squeezed my hand to let me know she would not forget it, and her touch still made me melt at that point. I asked where she wanted to eat at, pointing out the food court had several large food chains to pick from, but she said she really wanted to go to a sit-down restaurant. I felt somewhat confused, since there were so many other choices to pick, but I wanted to keep up my catering to her and agreed to take her to TGI Fridays but explained I really didnt have that much money to spend on a large meal. I wound up spending 30 out of the 50 dollars I had, which meant I would only be able to buy one gram of weed later that night. I would never have used to let a girl persuade me to spend money on her like that before, but something about Q was different. I kept thinking back to how I felt entering the mall, and how I felt at T's house the other night, and how weed would never make me feel like that anyway. When I was with her I didnt even really think about weed, although it would still be nice to have. So that's how I rationalized it in my head, and Q said she would return the favor when we next hung out.
So for the next couple months we had a semi-boyfriend/girlfriend relationship going on, with me usually picking her up and smoking weed before going shopping somewhere. She was always making sure to keep me happy though, and it made me feel like the things I was buying her were somehow validated because of that. We had sex for the first time together about a week after meeting each other and I remember thinking in my head I was truly glad I met her. She was always there to cheer me up on a bad day, or turn a boring night into one of excitement and relaxation. And all I had to do was buy her some stuff every now and then which I figured all girlfriends would ask their boyfriends to do. It was definitely a good time in my life, and I still wish I could experience those months one more time.
But like any relationship, things started to become more difficult as we got to know each other better. I realized she was always a hassle to get a hold of when you needed her for something but the second she needed you for something it was expected for you to drop everything and immediately help her. Also, I soon decided I needed to remove myself from seeing her everyday because it was starting to become almost a part-time job. The sex was great in the beginning but after a while it just seemed like she didnt care anymore. Not that it was bad, it just wasnt the same. Plus, the neighborhood she lived in was kind of trashy, so I didnt really go over her house very often, except to pick her up really. She didnt really bring anything to the table besides giving me physical pleasure either, she was pretty unintelligent, had bad manners, dressed somewhat questionable, and I didnt even tell my parents about her because I knew they would not like her. I just told them I was always going over one of my friend's houses when I was really going to hang out with her.
*continued in comments*
its indescribable but in a way it feels good to be recovering from internal injuries again. more seriously, it feels good to have decided the right path for myself, and to have disciplined myself to get back into the same level of health and wellness I was at while studying fighting a few years ago. having spent a week meditating on the return to this lifestyle, and nursing a healing torso, i havent felt this calm or at peace with myself and the world around me since i can really remember. the deep knowing of myself that is not unlike the weeks after a heavy psychedelic experience is a returning reward, and everything that seemed to be blocking my progress in life seems to trivial, far, and nearly irrelevant now.
its unheavenly hot here. office buildings' air conditioners cant even keep up with it, and work has become the dulldrums, my boss is even tossing around youtube videos more than working when the conditions are like this. the whiskey comes out at 3pm, though I usually dont partake, its just a symbol of our city's inability to adapt to the humidity of peak summer. the other day i went outside to do my daily round of knuckle pushups on my favorite patch of gravel laden sidewalk, and i barely got through half my set before i noticed something felt very wrong inside. in the last 5 years ive conditioned my hands to a degree that the (delusional) security state we live in is an endless source of irony, and i diddnt even realize for at least an hour afterward that I literally cooked my skin on that sidewalk it was so hot. my knuckles are covered in blisters and havent felt like this in many years, perhaps I have found a downside to my desensitization. naturally some hipster artist nearby was photographing (re: instagraming) an egg frying on a sidewalk.
the heat is wonderful for detox though. I spent a week jogging a mile in a heavy wool uniform to condition my body a bit further, and the blanket of humidity just sucked all the deep nasties right out of the recesses of my body. my body felt 5 years younger after a few days. my winter rut and binging on bullshit late at night really did a toll on me at my age, but im blazing right on back to my former state. my mind focuses more towards the endless cultivation of chi. i aim to have these hands pulling some emperor fuckin palpatine shit when im 40 years old, my will alone able to emit electro magnetic energy enough to command my own armies of minions, or at least power my personal server farm.
i have to be thankful everyday for the lovers i have close to me this summer. theyve provided me with the primary food i needed to nourish my soul back to a much more logical and serene place, and i am able again to resume my stoical observation of this universe. the unity of our currents had led to a wave making vibe, and i think we all may be in it for the long haul. our tribe is such a warm sanctuary, that i wonder if my plans to leave this city within a decade will change. im burning to live in the 4 corners of the world and everywhere else, but my love for some people here may prevent me from straying too far. we looked over a map of brooklyn this evening, with the emergency evacuation zones during hurricaine sandy active, and thought to ourselves that it would resemble the landmass within a few decades. at least were at the highest ground! but not sure if we can tolerate our brooklyn shaped like a flaccid penis.
for the things we do to our earth, we may never be forgiven . each day is a new opportunity to symbolize on which side of the argument we stand.
life simply doesnt feel meaningful without the arduous search for a higher plane of awareness.
oss
its unheavenly hot here. office buildings' air conditioners cant even keep up with it, and work has become the dulldrums, my boss is even tossing around youtube videos more than working when the conditions are like this. the whiskey comes out at 3pm, though I usually dont partake, its just a symbol of our city's inability to adapt to the humidity of peak summer. the other day i went outside to do my daily round of knuckle pushups on my favorite patch of gravel laden sidewalk, and i barely got through half my set before i noticed something felt very wrong inside. in the last 5 years ive conditioned my hands to a degree that the (delusional) security state we live in is an endless source of irony, and i diddnt even realize for at least an hour afterward that I literally cooked my skin on that sidewalk it was so hot. my knuckles are covered in blisters and havent felt like this in many years, perhaps I have found a downside to my desensitization. naturally some hipster artist nearby was photographing (re: instagraming) an egg frying on a sidewalk.
the heat is wonderful for detox though. I spent a week jogging a mile in a heavy wool uniform to condition my body a bit further, and the blanket of humidity just sucked all the deep nasties right out of the recesses of my body. my body felt 5 years younger after a few days. my winter rut and binging on bullshit late at night really did a toll on me at my age, but im blazing right on back to my former state. my mind focuses more towards the endless cultivation of chi. i aim to have these hands pulling some emperor fuckin palpatine shit when im 40 years old, my will alone able to emit electro magnetic energy enough to command my own armies of minions, or at least power my personal server farm.
i have to be thankful everyday for the lovers i have close to me this summer. theyve provided me with the primary food i needed to nourish my soul back to a much more logical and serene place, and i am able again to resume my stoical observation of this universe. the unity of our currents had led to a wave making vibe, and i think we all may be in it for the long haul. our tribe is such a warm sanctuary, that i wonder if my plans to leave this city within a decade will change. im burning to live in the 4 corners of the world and everywhere else, but my love for some people here may prevent me from straying too far. we looked over a map of brooklyn this evening, with the emergency evacuation zones during hurricaine sandy active, and thought to ourselves that it would resemble the landmass within a few decades. at least were at the highest ground! but not sure if we can tolerate our brooklyn shaped like a flaccid penis.
for the things we do to our earth, we may never be forgiven . each day is a new opportunity to symbolize on which side of the argument we stand.
life simply doesnt feel meaningful without the arduous search for a higher plane of awareness.
oss
About every 10 years I move, like MOVE move...across the state or the country. When I was 11 I moved from Colorado to Wisconsin and I moved from a small town in North Central Wisconsin to Madison when I was 22. I guess I'm going with the pattern by moving a week from today to Massachusetts at age 32.
It hasn't quite hit me yet. I'm guessing it might sometime when I'm on the long drive there. It's a nightmare to think of all the things I still have to do to prepare for this move. I feel so unprepared.
I'm going to miss it here, but I'm looking forward to a fresh start. Hopefully I can actually get out of my shell a little bit and make some new friends.
It hasn't quite hit me yet. I'm guessing it might sometime when I'm on the long drive there. It's a nightmare to think of all the things I still have to do to prepare for this move. I feel so unprepared.
I'm going to miss it here, but I'm looking forward to a fresh start. Hopefully I can actually get out of my shell a little bit and make some new friends.
I'm invited to two weddings in the next three months. In light of what I recently put myself through that's a little funny. Someday maybe someone will be writing blog posts about my wedding.
The first one is my aunt's. She's been with the same guy for THIRTY years. They are getting married in Larchmont, NY in September.
The second one is my friend's from Maryland. I'm actually a groomsman for that particular event. Which is interesting.
Last time I saw this guy, I was visiting Maryland for 5 days. I hadn't seen him in over a year. He picked me up to hang out, explained he had to go to Wal-Mart to buy a garbage can, and then got a phone call from his then-girlfriend while we were there. She started reaming him out about something, and he dropped me off back at my mom's place to go deal with it.
That was like four years ago. I barely speak to him, ever.
This is awfully cynical of me, but I think maybe the only reason I'm invited is so that I can be there to match the number of bride's maids that his fiance is planning on having.
This is the first girl the guy has ever been with.
Sigh.
I'll be more interested in visiting the area. I'm gonna take my film rangefinder and shoot the fuck out the town... see a couple friends I truly miss, and chirp out.
My aunt's wedding will be in September and that is gonna be tough for other reasons. I haven't really seen any of my extended family in about 8 or 9 years. I pissed a lot of people off by being a shitty son to my mom. I'll be making a lot of amends... but I know that if it all works out and I get to go, it will be a good experience.
The first one is my aunt's. She's been with the same guy for THIRTY years. They are getting married in Larchmont, NY in September.
The second one is my friend's from Maryland. I'm actually a groomsman for that particular event. Which is interesting.
Last time I saw this guy, I was visiting Maryland for 5 days. I hadn't seen him in over a year. He picked me up to hang out, explained he had to go to Wal-Mart to buy a garbage can, and then got a phone call from his then-girlfriend while we were there. She started reaming him out about something, and he dropped me off back at my mom's place to go deal with it.
That was like four years ago. I barely speak to him, ever.
This is awfully cynical of me, but I think maybe the only reason I'm invited is so that I can be there to match the number of bride's maids that his fiance is planning on having.
This is the first girl the guy has ever been with.
Sigh.
I'll be more interested in visiting the area. I'm gonna take my film rangefinder and shoot the fuck out the town... see a couple friends I truly miss, and chirp out.
My aunt's wedding will be in September and that is gonna be tough for other reasons. I haven't really seen any of my extended family in about 8 or 9 years. I pissed a lot of people off by being a shitty son to my mom. I'll be making a lot of amends... but I know that if it all works out and I get to go, it will be a good experience.
I want anyone who is reading this to be aware that I fully acknowledge how lame and pathetic this is going to sound. If someone is being honest with me they will tell me what a jerk I've been, and they'll be right. Around Christmas I managed to get into a friends with benefits situation. It's become a tremendous problem for me; I am also in a real committed relationship and it is very serious. I swore I would never cheat and I cheated. For like eight months.
It's created so much inner conflict for me I don't even know where to begin. I know... poor me, right? Poor asshole cheater. Poor. Selfish. Fucking. Asshole. I don't want pity here. That's not why I'm writing this... I guess I'm hoping if I put it out there maybe it will go away. Like, I've been bottling this stuff and not letting it out... it has been driving me crazy. Really crazy.
For starters, I love the woman I am with. It absolutely has nothing to do with her and everything to do with my faults as a sick human being. Thanks (sarcastic thanks?) to the work I've done in AA, I can see that the whole thing is because of all this fear I have... and so much selfishness. The sex itself is some combination of the compulsions that did not die with my addictions and what it means to be human I suppose... but that doesn't matter.
I have this shitty liar inside me that says I need to fuck every single woman that I find attractive. It will never get enough sex the same way I could never get enough heroin. It sounds nuts to relate the two but that's how it feels. Like, chemical castration has become increasingly appealing. I wish I was joking. This thing, it tells me that I need people to be attracted to me--I need to be wanted, desired, accepted. I'm afraid that I'm not wanted, not desired, not accepted. I lie to myself: I think if people don't react to me a certain way then I'm not worthwhile. All this dishonesty, fear, and selfishness manifest in my physical actions. I have done something I swore my whole life I'd never do.
Finally, thank God, the girl I've been cheating with has "broken up" with me. I wish that would neatly solve this problem. It won't, obviously. I might not fuck anyone else for a while but the "voice" is still there... I still certainly have the compulsion to repeat the process all over again. I might not do any more damage to her, but unfortunately that won't stop me from damaging myself or my "real" significant other. I managed to delete her number but I will definitely be seeing her again and it will be difficult to resist giving her the looks and the flirtation.
I used to see someone like that Weiner dude and think how he is so full of shit. I thought sex addiction was fucking nonsense. Now, I'm not so sure. It's tough... it's such a blurry line. But the truth is, it doesn't matter. Even if it is a real thing it could never serve as an excuse.
If I can't stay faithful should I even remain in this relationship? I guess I know the answer to that. So what's the definition of faithful? What is a realistic ideal for me to set for myself?
Ideally, I...
I don't want to look at porn.
I don't want to think about fucking my neighbor.
I don't want to flirt with anyone else.
I don't want to be with anyone else.
Before I started cheating I was trying not to masturbate, counting days like a newly sober person. I don't know if that's realistic at all... it is one of the hardest things I've ever had to do and that is no exaggeration. The thinking thoughts part seems beyond what is actually possible to accomplish.
Still I want to strive for it.
Ideally, I want to be able to ask a beautiful woman how she is doing that day because I genuinely care. Not because I want the attention or the batting eyelashes or the reciprocation of interest. The motive behind the action is important, too.
I want to be the loving caring man who my real significant other deserves. I want to be putting her before myself. I want to be a man instead of a selfish fucking pig. God help me.
It's created so much inner conflict for me I don't even know where to begin. I know... poor me, right? Poor asshole cheater. Poor. Selfish. Fucking. Asshole. I don't want pity here. That's not why I'm writing this... I guess I'm hoping if I put it out there maybe it will go away. Like, I've been bottling this stuff and not letting it out... it has been driving me crazy. Really crazy.
For starters, I love the woman I am with. It absolutely has nothing to do with her and everything to do with my faults as a sick human being. Thanks (sarcastic thanks?) to the work I've done in AA, I can see that the whole thing is because of all this fear I have... and so much selfishness. The sex itself is some combination of the compulsions that did not die with my addictions and what it means to be human I suppose... but that doesn't matter.
I have this shitty liar inside me that says I need to fuck every single woman that I find attractive. It will never get enough sex the same way I could never get enough heroin. It sounds nuts to relate the two but that's how it feels. Like, chemical castration has become increasingly appealing. I wish I was joking. This thing, it tells me that I need people to be attracted to me--I need to be wanted, desired, accepted. I'm afraid that I'm not wanted, not desired, not accepted. I lie to myself: I think if people don't react to me a certain way then I'm not worthwhile. All this dishonesty, fear, and selfishness manifest in my physical actions. I have done something I swore my whole life I'd never do.
Finally, thank God, the girl I've been cheating with has "broken up" with me. I wish that would neatly solve this problem. It won't, obviously. I might not fuck anyone else for a while but the "voice" is still there... I still certainly have the compulsion to repeat the process all over again. I might not do any more damage to her, but unfortunately that won't stop me from damaging myself or my "real" significant other. I managed to delete her number but I will definitely be seeing her again and it will be difficult to resist giving her the looks and the flirtation.
I used to see someone like that Weiner dude and think how he is so full of shit. I thought sex addiction was fucking nonsense. Now, I'm not so sure. It's tough... it's such a blurry line. But the truth is, it doesn't matter. Even if it is a real thing it could never serve as an excuse.
If I can't stay faithful should I even remain in this relationship? I guess I know the answer to that. So what's the definition of faithful? What is a realistic ideal for me to set for myself?
Ideally, I...
I don't want to look at porn.
I don't want to think about fucking my neighbor.
I don't want to flirt with anyone else.
I don't want to be with anyone else.
Before I started cheating I was trying not to masturbate, counting days like a newly sober person. I don't know if that's realistic at all... it is one of the hardest things I've ever had to do and that is no exaggeration. The thinking thoughts part seems beyond what is actually possible to accomplish.
Still I want to strive for it.
Ideally, I want to be able to ask a beautiful woman how she is doing that day because I genuinely care. Not because I want the attention or the batting eyelashes or the reciprocation of interest. The motive behind the action is important, too.
I want to be the loving caring man who my real significant other deserves. I want to be putting her before myself. I want to be a man instead of a selfish fucking pig. God help me.
New piece
Planning to neaten it up a bit, get it on a t-shirt and maybe sell it. Maybe.
Planning to neaten it up a bit, get it on a t-shirt and maybe sell it. Maybe.
On Monday I have an appointment with a Suboxone doctor. Finally, I'll have my own prescription. I feel like having my own prescription will cut my anxiety levels way down. I didn't tell him I was prescribed benzos as well so I guess we'll see. He doesn't seem like the type to piss test... I hope not anyway... I'm already semi-maintained on Suboxone so he said he'd knock $50 bucks off the prescription. Holla. I am so anxious for Monday to come because tomorrow is pay day and I really don't want to spend that money on heroin... I don't think I will because I really don't have any other chance to get a Suboxone prescription. I feel like this is a step in the right direction...
note this is all second hand accounts as obviously I don't remember anything since I was a baby. This is not a sob story either, please don't feel bad for me because there are other kids who are faced with far worse and ultimately fatal conditions that never get a chance to grow up and be a cynical druggie who treats people like shit on the internet out of boredom. This is just simply me being an amateur psychologist and doing what I do best which is think to myself.
When I was born I actually had a heart defect where one of the valves was not functioning properly. I'm not a doctor, but all you need to know is some shit was fucked up, and they weren't exactly sure if I was even going to make it through the surgery, let alone back to my home.
I just can't help but wonder if maybe those events left a bit more of a mark than the scar on my chest.
For one thing, it is a widely held belief that the first few years of a child's life are by far the most influential in their development, and using that logic, you could surmise the first few weeks are especially important. As an infant, all you can do is trust your care to the people who are raising you and the hospital staff where you are born.
But if you are immediately removed from your own parents to be placed into surgical care, you lose that chance at feeling the unspoken bond of trust that all parents naturally form with their children at birth. And if the people who are supposed to be taking care of you need to cut open a hole in your chest within two days of entering the Earth, well you run out of people to trust pretty quickly. Of course, if I had known the situation I would have trusted the doctors, but we don't know anything as an infant besides physical senses.
To make a long and obvious ending short, the surgery was successful and after a month in an incubator I was finally released from the hospital and able to go home. Of course, as anyone who has had children will know, you are never too far removed from a hospital visit with a newborn, especially if there were any complications at birth. Not to mention the damage had probably already been done by that point.
"Why should I trust these people if they let me be put into that situation to begin with?"
is probably how an infant would rationalize the new world around it, if I had to guess (again, wasn't exactly keeping a diary at the time).
Now don't get me wrong, I had a perfectly fine childhood, and my parents were always there if I really needed help with something and I am honestly forever grateful for that. But at the same time, I just don't know if I ever quite got over that first month somewhere in the deep inner workings of my brain. They say first impressions are everything, and I'd say that includes our lives as a whole. If your first reactions are ones of discomfort and isolation, you are probably going to grow up looking at things negatively and avoiding interaction with other people whenever possible.
Not that I can't talk to people, I'm actually pretty damned good at putting up a front of friendliness, I just don't go out of my way to do it. And the sad part is this applied to my family as well, especially my brother. We are basically total opposites in a lot of ways but we do have some similarities in that we both think we are right about a lot of things and can be incredibly stubborn at times. And I'm gonna go ahead and confirm that statement by saying that, in actuality, he is not usually right about much at all. When your best talent is the art of bullshitting and deflecting blame for things, you generally don't have a sense of how people truly see you in life.
He is an eternal optimist, despite having a pretty slim selection of things to be optimistic about. I am an eternal pessimist despite not really having much to complain about. This leads to conflict naturally, but because of my pessimism I was actually pretty good at avoiding it. I knew when it was and when it was not going to be worth my time to disagree with him, and a lot of the time I simply said nothing to avoid having to get into an argument I knew neither of us would win due to the reasons I stated earlier.
He likes to talk to anyone who will listen, and I hate listening to people's problems when they are the own person's fault (see: all of his). So basically, unless I avoid him completely I get sucked into a trap of his myriad of complaints levied at anything and everything he finds offensive to him. And I do that as well to be honest, but I just keep it to myself in real life (maybe not so much in the lounge, sorry but you shouldn't have made it out to be such a dark place tbh, first impressions and shit).
But it's not like I hate my brother, I just don't really feel any emotions towards him. I wish him luck in whatever he chooses to do in life, but I just don't really want anything to do with whatever that may entail. And the more I think about it I kind of feel like that towards a lot of people, and I can't figure out why. I guess it all stems back to that trust issue, but you would think positive life experiences would help me get over that. And now im gonna sound arrogant here, but I actually had a lot of people who wanted to be my friend growing up and I just kind of... didnt extend the same level of friendliness. Not that I was rude, but very much avoided any invitations of furthering the process of getting to know each other.
And now that I think about it, that's a problem that is my own fault, and im doing exactly what my brother would do in writing it down for anyone who will read this. But the difference between me and him is I really don't need other people to keep myself occupied, whereas he cannot stand to be by himself.
But there's really not much else more to say about our relationship, it is pretty much one of saying "whats up" in the morning and "later" when we leave each other's company, so I won't go on about that.
At the end of the day, I know there is a lot of good people in this world, and I am certainly not very high on that list. But at the same time, there are a lot of bad people in this world too, and I would rather be able to avoid them at the cost of avoiding some good people as collateral damage rather than have to deal with bad people.
And the term "bad" is so subjective but to me it basically encompasses anyone who doesn't think similarly to myself, which I have found to be somewhat hard to find replicated. Mostly because nobody thinks the same so I am really just setting everyone else up for failure by holding them to an impossible standard that isn't even really a good standard to begin with.
So, again, I am causing my own problems here but I'm also figuring out the cause of these problems on my own and have already solved them by simply accepting the fact that I will probably always be a pessimist.
And some people might say that is a sad way to live but at the same time, life can be sad sometimes and when you are considering every negative outcome that may happen you are not phased when they actually do happen.
So I don't know what exactly to really do anymore besides to just keep on trucking and get my jollies out of saying "I told you so" to people and hearing the ever occurring "you were right about that".
a lot of times I think I would be better off if I was more like my brother since ignorance really is bliss. And the sad part is I think he wishes he could be more like me in a lot of ways too.
If we could swap out some genetic traits to each other you could probably build a great human being, but I'm way too much of a cynic to think anything is great, let alone something as innately flawed as human beings.
I just wish I could learn to accept people for their flaws, and trust that it is not being done purposely with the intent to negatively impact my life.
But like I said earlier, that thought is still deep in my brain somewhere
Who can you trust?
and as of right now, it's a pretty short list
When I was born I actually had a heart defect where one of the valves was not functioning properly. I'm not a doctor, but all you need to know is some shit was fucked up, and they weren't exactly sure if I was even going to make it through the surgery, let alone back to my home.
I just can't help but wonder if maybe those events left a bit more of a mark than the scar on my chest.
For one thing, it is a widely held belief that the first few years of a child's life are by far the most influential in their development, and using that logic, you could surmise the first few weeks are especially important. As an infant, all you can do is trust your care to the people who are raising you and the hospital staff where you are born.
But if you are immediately removed from your own parents to be placed into surgical care, you lose that chance at feeling the unspoken bond of trust that all parents naturally form with their children at birth. And if the people who are supposed to be taking care of you need to cut open a hole in your chest within two days of entering the Earth, well you run out of people to trust pretty quickly. Of course, if I had known the situation I would have trusted the doctors, but we don't know anything as an infant besides physical senses.
To make a long and obvious ending short, the surgery was successful and after a month in an incubator I was finally released from the hospital and able to go home. Of course, as anyone who has had children will know, you are never too far removed from a hospital visit with a newborn, especially if there were any complications at birth. Not to mention the damage had probably already been done by that point.
"Why should I trust these people if they let me be put into that situation to begin with?"
is probably how an infant would rationalize the new world around it, if I had to guess (again, wasn't exactly keeping a diary at the time).
Now don't get me wrong, I had a perfectly fine childhood, and my parents were always there if I really needed help with something and I am honestly forever grateful for that. But at the same time, I just don't know if I ever quite got over that first month somewhere in the deep inner workings of my brain. They say first impressions are everything, and I'd say that includes our lives as a whole. If your first reactions are ones of discomfort and isolation, you are probably going to grow up looking at things negatively and avoiding interaction with other people whenever possible.
Not that I can't talk to people, I'm actually pretty damned good at putting up a front of friendliness, I just don't go out of my way to do it. And the sad part is this applied to my family as well, especially my brother. We are basically total opposites in a lot of ways but we do have some similarities in that we both think we are right about a lot of things and can be incredibly stubborn at times. And I'm gonna go ahead and confirm that statement by saying that, in actuality, he is not usually right about much at all. When your best talent is the art of bullshitting and deflecting blame for things, you generally don't have a sense of how people truly see you in life.
He is an eternal optimist, despite having a pretty slim selection of things to be optimistic about. I am an eternal pessimist despite not really having much to complain about. This leads to conflict naturally, but because of my pessimism I was actually pretty good at avoiding it. I knew when it was and when it was not going to be worth my time to disagree with him, and a lot of the time I simply said nothing to avoid having to get into an argument I knew neither of us would win due to the reasons I stated earlier.
He likes to talk to anyone who will listen, and I hate listening to people's problems when they are the own person's fault (see: all of his). So basically, unless I avoid him completely I get sucked into a trap of his myriad of complaints levied at anything and everything he finds offensive to him. And I do that as well to be honest, but I just keep it to myself in real life (maybe not so much in the lounge, sorry but you shouldn't have made it out to be such a dark place tbh, first impressions and shit).
But it's not like I hate my brother, I just don't really feel any emotions towards him. I wish him luck in whatever he chooses to do in life, but I just don't really want anything to do with whatever that may entail. And the more I think about it I kind of feel like that towards a lot of people, and I can't figure out why. I guess it all stems back to that trust issue, but you would think positive life experiences would help me get over that. And now im gonna sound arrogant here, but I actually had a lot of people who wanted to be my friend growing up and I just kind of... didnt extend the same level of friendliness. Not that I was rude, but very much avoided any invitations of furthering the process of getting to know each other.
And now that I think about it, that's a problem that is my own fault, and im doing exactly what my brother would do in writing it down for anyone who will read this. But the difference between me and him is I really don't need other people to keep myself occupied, whereas he cannot stand to be by himself.
But there's really not much else more to say about our relationship, it is pretty much one of saying "whats up" in the morning and "later" when we leave each other's company, so I won't go on about that.
At the end of the day, I know there is a lot of good people in this world, and I am certainly not very high on that list. But at the same time, there are a lot of bad people in this world too, and I would rather be able to avoid them at the cost of avoiding some good people as collateral damage rather than have to deal with bad people.
And the term "bad" is so subjective but to me it basically encompasses anyone who doesn't think similarly to myself, which I have found to be somewhat hard to find replicated. Mostly because nobody thinks the same so I am really just setting everyone else up for failure by holding them to an impossible standard that isn't even really a good standard to begin with.
So, again, I am causing my own problems here but I'm also figuring out the cause of these problems on my own and have already solved them by simply accepting the fact that I will probably always be a pessimist.
And some people might say that is a sad way to live but at the same time, life can be sad sometimes and when you are considering every negative outcome that may happen you are not phased when they actually do happen.
So I don't know what exactly to really do anymore besides to just keep on trucking and get my jollies out of saying "I told you so" to people and hearing the ever occurring "you were right about that".
a lot of times I think I would be better off if I was more like my brother since ignorance really is bliss. And the sad part is I think he wishes he could be more like me in a lot of ways too.
If we could swap out some genetic traits to each other you could probably build a great human being, but I'm way too much of a cynic to think anything is great, let alone something as innately flawed as human beings.
I just wish I could learn to accept people for their flaws, and trust that it is not being done purposely with the intent to negatively impact my life.
But like I said earlier, that thought is still deep in my brain somewhere
Who can you trust?
and as of right now, it's a pretty short list
I've decided I'd like to document some of my memorable sexual encounters of the past. The good, the bad and the ugly.
The first that pops into my head is the heinous encounter involving a guy I had been on a few dates with. We hadn't fucked yet but after a night out I invited him back to my house, where I lived with my mum. I was 19. When we got home I was keen to blaze some weed and asked him if he wanted to share a joint or whether he wanted me to roll him his own. He opted for his own, and when we finished getting stoned he went to the toilet. I was totally ripped, sitting on my bed waiting for him to get out but after 20min he was still in there. I knocked on the door and he mumbled that he'd be out soon but another 15min went by and no sign of him. I knocked again and he said he was coming out this time, so I started getting undressed and folding back the quilt ready for us to get in and potentially have sex.
All of a sudden I see him standing in my bedroom doorway looking totally delirious. He starts taking off his jeans but as he does, I see him collapse in slow motion, ploughing into the tv on his way done. The force of his fall sends the tv and cabinet crashing right through the wall, creating an enormous hole in the plaster which he is now stuck in. Half his body is now inside the wall. I'm so stoned, and I immediately trip out, as he is out cold and doesn't appear to be getting up anytime soon. The cunt is totally unconscious! Then.. I hear the dreaded sound of footsteps down the hallway. The door swings open. It's my fucking mother in her nightie, coming to investigate the loud crash and finding a guy passed out in a hole in the wall with his pants around his ankles, and me standing there like a useless stoned person.
Mum is furious and starts trying to wake him up. He finally stirs, then looks around and sees what has happened. Mum storms off leaving me with this pole-axed unit, and he tries to get up and start fixing everything, apologising to me, completely humiliated. But I have no sympathy; I am so turned off my this dude and his amateur weed tolerance and feel sick just looking at him and the giant clusterfuck in front of me. I tell him to get in bed and he falls straight asleep snoring, and I laid there awake all night wishing he wasn't all up in my bed.
In the morning he said he couldn't get a lift home for another few hours. Fuck that. He lived an hour away so I got in the car in my pyjamas, drove there in silence and despite more profuse apologising on the way, as soon as he stepped out the car, I sped off before he even had a chance to close the door. I never saw him again, but will never forget that demolition night for as long as I live.
The first that pops into my head is the heinous encounter involving a guy I had been on a few dates with. We hadn't fucked yet but after a night out I invited him back to my house, where I lived with my mum. I was 19. When we got home I was keen to blaze some weed and asked him if he wanted to share a joint or whether he wanted me to roll him his own. He opted for his own, and when we finished getting stoned he went to the toilet. I was totally ripped, sitting on my bed waiting for him to get out but after 20min he was still in there. I knocked on the door and he mumbled that he'd be out soon but another 15min went by and no sign of him. I knocked again and he said he was coming out this time, so I started getting undressed and folding back the quilt ready for us to get in and potentially have sex.
All of a sudden I see him standing in my bedroom doorway looking totally delirious. He starts taking off his jeans but as he does, I see him collapse in slow motion, ploughing into the tv on his way done. The force of his fall sends the tv and cabinet crashing right through the wall, creating an enormous hole in the plaster which he is now stuck in. Half his body is now inside the wall. I'm so stoned, and I immediately trip out, as he is out cold and doesn't appear to be getting up anytime soon. The cunt is totally unconscious! Then.. I hear the dreaded sound of footsteps down the hallway. The door swings open. It's my fucking mother in her nightie, coming to investigate the loud crash and finding a guy passed out in a hole in the wall with his pants around his ankles, and me standing there like a useless stoned person.
Mum is furious and starts trying to wake him up. He finally stirs, then looks around and sees what has happened. Mum storms off leaving me with this pole-axed unit, and he tries to get up and start fixing everything, apologising to me, completely humiliated. But I have no sympathy; I am so turned off my this dude and his amateur weed tolerance and feel sick just looking at him and the giant clusterfuck in front of me. I tell him to get in bed and he falls straight asleep snoring, and I laid there awake all night wishing he wasn't all up in my bed.
In the morning he said he couldn't get a lift home for another few hours. Fuck that. He lived an hour away so I got in the car in my pyjamas, drove there in silence and despite more profuse apologising on the way, as soon as he stepped out the car, I sped off before he even had a chance to close the door. I never saw him again, but will never forget that demolition night for as long as I live.
So I used to work at a bookstore from 2007 to 2009. I quit in late 2009 in order to go back to school, which ended up being a failure. I've been in desperate need for a job, so I reapplied to that bookstore I used to work at and lo and behold, they hired me back! So I've been working for the past 2 weeks. A really good Bluelighter friend was kind enough to front me some Suboxone so I could keep the job, as I desperately needed the work. I am going to use my first check to get my own prescription for Suboxone.
For a really long time, I didn't want to admit that I couldn't completely quit opiates, but now I know that Opioid Replacement Therapy is the best solution for me at the moment...
So far, I feel like I've been doing okay. This position at the bookstore is completely different from my old position at the bookstore. If you want to guess, the bookstore I work for is named something similar to Narnes and Boble. When I was much younger and still in high school, it was kind of my dream job. I'm a nerd at heart and being around books all day makes my panties moist. (What?) So, yeah, even though it's stressful because I have to deal with the general public and my anxiety is through the roof. I'm also in a sales-oriented position which adds to the anxiety. But, hey, I've got my Klonopin if it gets too tough. Ha.
So today was weird. Well, technically yesterday now but I haven't slept in 24 hours...
While I was at work, I decided to text my dealer who will usually front me a bundle until I get cash. He texts me back saying that he has a job for me -- he wants me to bag up some bundles of dope for him because the chick who usually does it was being a bitch or something like that. I was also middling a deal for someone so I had to meet up with my dealer anyway. So it was like midnight when I left my apartment (I got home from work at 11:30pm) to go meet up with him. He picks me up in his car and we go to where he's staying in the city. Of course the motherfucker busts out some cocaine. You know, to help with bagging the heroin, right? 8( So yeah. I was feeling really fucking good after the first couple of lines. But then I started craving some of the dope and asked him for some and he gave me a nice little chunk. I wrapped it up in an old receipt from my job. So I am staring at a pile of dope and a pile of coke and I've been sniffing them back and forth ever since I got home at 8am.
I guess I'm living some weird double life right now... Nerdy bookseller by day, dope/coke fiend by night...and weekends...
For a really long time, I didn't want to admit that I couldn't completely quit opiates, but now I know that Opioid Replacement Therapy is the best solution for me at the moment...
So far, I feel like I've been doing okay. This position at the bookstore is completely different from my old position at the bookstore. If you want to guess, the bookstore I work for is named something similar to Narnes and Boble. When I was much younger and still in high school, it was kind of my dream job. I'm a nerd at heart and being around books all day makes my panties moist. (What?) So, yeah, even though it's stressful because I have to deal with the general public and my anxiety is through the roof. I'm also in a sales-oriented position which adds to the anxiety. But, hey, I've got my Klonopin if it gets too tough. Ha.
So today was weird. Well, technically yesterday now but I haven't slept in 24 hours...
While I was at work, I decided to text my dealer who will usually front me a bundle until I get cash. He texts me back saying that he has a job for me -- he wants me to bag up some bundles of dope for him because the chick who usually does it was being a bitch or something like that. I was also middling a deal for someone so I had to meet up with my dealer anyway. So it was like midnight when I left my apartment (I got home from work at 11:30pm) to go meet up with him. He picks me up in his car and we go to where he's staying in the city. Of course the motherfucker busts out some cocaine. You know, to help with bagging the heroin, right? 8( So yeah. I was feeling really fucking good after the first couple of lines. But then I started craving some of the dope and asked him for some and he gave me a nice little chunk. I wrapped it up in an old receipt from my job. So I am staring at a pile of dope and a pile of coke and I've been sniffing them back and forth ever since I got home at 8am.
I guess I'm living some weird double life right now... Nerdy bookseller by day, dope/coke fiend by night...and weekends...
I've been itching to type up this blog but I just couldn't get my head around it. If you are going to ask me what my name, is you already know the answer to that, I will not give it to you for privacy reasons.
I grew up in a conservative Asian family, and both of my parents are strict, though my dad is the stricter one between the two. I was not allowed to go out to parties until I was 18. I spent most of my time at home doing homework, reading books or watching movies.
I was a consistent honor student from grade school to high school, and this is because I didn't really have a choice but to study. Back in my former country, school was very important, and if you don't study hard, you are most likely to fail. School usually starts at 7 and ends at 5 pm. You have to have an extra curricular activity/activities if you want to remain as an honor student as it is part of our marks. So on top of being tired from academic studies, physically you are also drained.
I always hungered for the outside world, always had this hunger to experience what it feels like to go to parties, to sleep over, to have a variety of circle of friends but I just couldn't argue with my parents, for me at that time, they were always right.
As soon as I went to college, this is where everything started to change. I transformed from a conservative school girl, to a wild and liberated college girl. This is where I started skipping classes, drinking, going to parties and meeting a lot of people. It felt like I was free at last and I can be part of a popular group of party people and just live life to the fullest. This is the time where arguments with my parents specially my father were endless. Every single day my dad will always scrutinize my outfit, my habits everything that he can see that does not go with what he wants.
From the age of 19 up to the age of 24 I was a rebel. Anything that I felt that they deprived me of I wanted it. Going out every weekend was not enough, it needed to be everyday.
When I turned 24, I met Matt. Due to the horrible experiences I had with assholes I have dated before, I've decided that if I am going to date another guy, he should be the opposite of what I was. Matt was conservative and never liked parties and such. We dated for four years and this was my longest relationship. I loved Matt so much that I sacrificed my party life and obeyed every single thing he wanted me to do, to the point that I lost myself. I lost my identity and I lost my friends. At the end, he still left me not because of a third party but because we were never meant to be together in the first place. We are just so different, so different that thinking back as to how my relationship with him was, I wasn't really happy.
Again, since I limited myself from the outside world, As soon as we broke up, I went out a lot. I went to parties again. One of my girlfriends suggested I date this Russian guy who she thinks will be perfect for me since he loves going to rave parties. I started dating him but it was more of for sex and drugs up until I took an unknown substance which was supposedly mdma last year of December 2012. By February of this year I found Bluelight. I signed up as a member right away to find answers for the comedown I am experiencing but there was no magic pill to solve my symptom.
There are so many things that I regret which I wish I could take back but it's too late. I wish I never took mdma and just consumed alcohol. I wish I followed my parents advice because after all, they just want what's best for me. I might have messed up myself but I know that I am strong enough to surpass this. This comedown taught me a lot of things and made me realize that I have a purpose in life, and that is to help people who are suffering from drug abuse or who will be finding Bluelight due to a comedown. I want to be that person who they can approach and rely on. I want to be their pillar of strength.
I grew up in a conservative Asian family, and both of my parents are strict, though my dad is the stricter one between the two. I was not allowed to go out to parties until I was 18. I spent most of my time at home doing homework, reading books or watching movies.
I was a consistent honor student from grade school to high school, and this is because I didn't really have a choice but to study. Back in my former country, school was very important, and if you don't study hard, you are most likely to fail. School usually starts at 7 and ends at 5 pm. You have to have an extra curricular activity/activities if you want to remain as an honor student as it is part of our marks. So on top of being tired from academic studies, physically you are also drained.
I always hungered for the outside world, always had this hunger to experience what it feels like to go to parties, to sleep over, to have a variety of circle of friends but I just couldn't argue with my parents, for me at that time, they were always right.
As soon as I went to college, this is where everything started to change. I transformed from a conservative school girl, to a wild and liberated college girl. This is where I started skipping classes, drinking, going to parties and meeting a lot of people. It felt like I was free at last and I can be part of a popular group of party people and just live life to the fullest. This is the time where arguments with my parents specially my father were endless. Every single day my dad will always scrutinize my outfit, my habits everything that he can see that does not go with what he wants.
From the age of 19 up to the age of 24 I was a rebel. Anything that I felt that they deprived me of I wanted it. Going out every weekend was not enough, it needed to be everyday.
When I turned 24, I met Matt. Due to the horrible experiences I had with assholes I have dated before, I've decided that if I am going to date another guy, he should be the opposite of what I was. Matt was conservative and never liked parties and such. We dated for four years and this was my longest relationship. I loved Matt so much that I sacrificed my party life and obeyed every single thing he wanted me to do, to the point that I lost myself. I lost my identity and I lost my friends. At the end, he still left me not because of a third party but because we were never meant to be together in the first place. We are just so different, so different that thinking back as to how my relationship with him was, I wasn't really happy.
Again, since I limited myself from the outside world, As soon as we broke up, I went out a lot. I went to parties again. One of my girlfriends suggested I date this Russian guy who she thinks will be perfect for me since he loves going to rave parties. I started dating him but it was more of for sex and drugs up until I took an unknown substance which was supposedly mdma last year of December 2012. By February of this year I found Bluelight. I signed up as a member right away to find answers for the comedown I am experiencing but there was no magic pill to solve my symptom.
There are so many things that I regret which I wish I could take back but it's too late. I wish I never took mdma and just consumed alcohol. I wish I followed my parents advice because after all, they just want what's best for me. I might have messed up myself but I know that I am strong enough to surpass this. This comedown taught me a lot of things and made me realize that I have a purpose in life, and that is to help people who are suffering from drug abuse or who will be finding Bluelight due to a comedown. I want to be that person who they can approach and rely on. I want to be their pillar of strength.
A young cat just poked it's head in through the skylight to my room 'NO' I shouted in a bid to deter the cat from entering my pit of gloom. 'GO AWAY'.
The cat ignored my cries, stretching it's head forward & leaning forward before jumping onto the bed below.
'Great' I thought. Now there's a fucking cat in my room and I didn't even want company.
A beautiful grey furred cat of the inquisitive variety. I was secretly glad to have some cool company in this pit of despair.
'MEOW' said the cat, looking over at me as if asking for some assistance.
'What'? I questioned.
'There's nothing I can do' I said. And I certainly wasn't getting up to open the door. At least not yet.
You shall have to suffer your ill choice, at least for a few minutes yet.
The cat began to explore my room.
Treading fondly on the bed. Massaging the quilt with it's tiny little paws. Looking as if it had discovered the absolute lap of luxury.
The cat jumped off the bed and began poking around some plastic bags. Of which contained a sizable quantity of my earthly possessions.
This made me paranoid. I wasn't going to have a cat aggressively pissing all over my stuff. No siree.
I got out of my chair and opened the door 'COME ON CAT' I said in a stern voice.
'YOU MUST LEAVE NOW' 'Your time is over'.
The cat just looked at me bewildered.
I sighed and began to walk to the far side of the room.
The cat remained still as I reached down and picked her up before transporting her back to the other side of the room.
I placed her near the door so she could leave on her own accord....
The cat ignored my cries, stretching it's head forward & leaning forward before jumping onto the bed below.
'Great' I thought. Now there's a fucking cat in my room and I didn't even want company.
A beautiful grey furred cat of the inquisitive variety. I was secretly glad to have some cool company in this pit of despair.
'MEOW' said the cat, looking over at me as if asking for some assistance.
'What'? I questioned.
'There's nothing I can do' I said. And I certainly wasn't getting up to open the door. At least not yet.
You shall have to suffer your ill choice, at least for a few minutes yet.
The cat began to explore my room.
Treading fondly on the bed. Massaging the quilt with it's tiny little paws. Looking as if it had discovered the absolute lap of luxury.
The cat jumped off the bed and began poking around some plastic bags. Of which contained a sizable quantity of my earthly possessions.
This made me paranoid. I wasn't going to have a cat aggressively pissing all over my stuff. No siree.
I got out of my chair and opened the door 'COME ON CAT' I said in a stern voice.
'YOU MUST LEAVE NOW' 'Your time is over'.
The cat just looked at me bewildered.
I sighed and began to walk to the far side of the room.
The cat remained still as I reached down and picked her up before transporting her back to the other side of the room.
I placed her near the door so she could leave on her own accord....
Today is day 4. On day three I cut the shit out of my hand at work. I make a living with my hands as a line cook. Later when I got home I fell down my stairs into a door and busted out the door frame. That's not going to be cheap. This is the kind of shit I do on illegal drugs but it's a lot more fun and makes for a much better story. Debated contacting my doctor but I decided I'll give it some time.
In contrast to my last post where I had %1000 ideas my brain is just not with me today. I can put together coherent thoughts though. Only because I have so few thoughts to choose from its hard not to stay on track. I feel like my creativity is shot but maybe I'm incorrect. I have the day off so I guess I can enjoy the haze of a Major Tranquilizer . I've been blazing the past 45 minutes and I'm not high. Seroquel is such a buzzkill. Well I mean I am high. I can tell I've smoked weed. But its like blazing while drunk an on Xanax bars. You just don't feel the weed the same way when your solidly tranqued. I just took a whiskey shot to get the stimulation a bit of alcohol seems to give in the morning. While your brain is frozen solid in anti-psychotic land even alcohol seems like a stimulant.
A couple hours later I am hungry. I smoke some more weed and eat a frozen pizza. The feeling of burnout is indescribable. My mind wants to do more but my body isn't up for it. Nicotine gum and diet coke don't disrupt the fog a bit. I need to go for a bike ride soon. With the Seroquel I wouldn't drive a car. Inebriated biking while not recommended is a lot less dangerous than driving a car and is thankfully my only option today. The bike ride is slow and painful.
I'm tired. To tired to be happy. To tired to be depressed. I'm a zombie in an emotional straight-jacket. At least I haven't needed my klonopin. I wish I could write better than this but I'm just dead. I will probably edit it tonight if I can get my brain going.
In contrast to my last post where I had %1000 ideas my brain is just not with me today. I can put together coherent thoughts though. Only because I have so few thoughts to choose from its hard not to stay on track. I feel like my creativity is shot but maybe I'm incorrect. I have the day off so I guess I can enjoy the haze of a Major Tranquilizer . I've been blazing the past 45 minutes and I'm not high. Seroquel is such a buzzkill. Well I mean I am high. I can tell I've smoked weed. But its like blazing while drunk an on Xanax bars. You just don't feel the weed the same way when your solidly tranqued. I just took a whiskey shot to get the stimulation a bit of alcohol seems to give in the morning. While your brain is frozen solid in anti-psychotic land even alcohol seems like a stimulant.
A couple hours later I am hungry. I smoke some more weed and eat a frozen pizza. The feeling of burnout is indescribable. My mind wants to do more but my body isn't up for it. Nicotine gum and diet coke don't disrupt the fog a bit. I need to go for a bike ride soon. With the Seroquel I wouldn't drive a car. Inebriated biking while not recommended is a lot less dangerous than driving a car and is thankfully my only option today. The bike ride is slow and painful.
I'm tired. To tired to be happy. To tired to be depressed. I'm a zombie in an emotional straight-jacket. At least I haven't needed my klonopin. I wish I could write better than this but I'm just dead. I will probably edit it tonight if I can get my brain going.
Today, or yesterday rather, I received my first acupressure treatment. I came to this by route of seeking treatment for my food and environmental sensitivities/allergies.
When I set up the appointment, the day before, the receptionist told me Angel would be treating me, but I wasn't quite sure that was what she said. I found this to be positive- that someone with this name would be attempting to help me... not that I like to put too much weight into such things, or not that I am not full of tests along the way.
But today when I arrived it was confirmed that she was the one who would be treating me.
I didn't have a lot of faith going in, but I try to. I try to keep an open mind. I have to. I'm desperate to get better. I'll take anything.
According to her tests, I was hyper-aware, or something like that... Hyper something. Everything is hyper-sensitive. But she didn't mean as in I'm actually hypersensitive to much, at all, just that I- me, my brain, is on fire. Or that's how I took it. I'm on watch. I'm afraid. She had me tap the diamond shape below my nose, five times, saying it is some kind of special point, and this allowed her to get better readings, where before I was all crazy.
It sounds crazy, really, but I try to keep an open mind, of unknowing. I know things aren't as they seem, always, so this is very possible. There's so much I don't know, and understand.
Oddly, counter to what I had been told by another doctor, I was found to be only allergic to dairy as far as individual foods go. Dairy can also mean eggs, I think. I'm not sure what I think about this. I haven't been able to eat much of anything for awhile without some reaction. But she told me I was reacting to my own acids. Cholic acid and another cholic acid. Dexa.. uhh.. I forget. Dec. I don't know. And acetic acid. Then there were "phenolics", generally, which I imagine goes into other things of that kind.
I already notice, that chocolate no longer makes me feel... "sick". Not quite the same. Maybe I just got it into my head. And I ate lamb without a bad headache or reaction... Basically, I'm allergic to myself, and my own processes. In a way. There's probably more, but it was, if this works at all (as it seems to), probably effected positively.
I saw that Donna, the girl I pay attention to sometimes, often, every day- nearly, had changed her facebook profile image to an angel, after my appointment.
Sometimes I don't know. I mean, I never know. I guess. Yea I say it could be coincidence, but this is something. And I don't want to get my hopes up, about it being true that I don't have as many actual allergies. But I know that, for instance, rice gives me hives, and her tests didn't pick up on that. But, I guess it could be the way I am reacting to my own system, which is odd, but possible. Any way, whatever she did, seemed to help, and I have felt better. Or hopeful, at least. But again, again, I don't want to jump up and down just yet.
I plan on treating the rest of my sensitivities, dairy, phenolic acids (wide general), and molds, and then trying acupuncture with the guy who runs that place, to see if that helps me with anything.
When I set up the appointment, the day before, the receptionist told me Angel would be treating me, but I wasn't quite sure that was what she said. I found this to be positive- that someone with this name would be attempting to help me... not that I like to put too much weight into such things, or not that I am not full of tests along the way.
But today when I arrived it was confirmed that she was the one who would be treating me.
I didn't have a lot of faith going in, but I try to. I try to keep an open mind. I have to. I'm desperate to get better. I'll take anything.
According to her tests, I was hyper-aware, or something like that... Hyper something. Everything is hyper-sensitive. But she didn't mean as in I'm actually hypersensitive to much, at all, just that I- me, my brain, is on fire. Or that's how I took it. I'm on watch. I'm afraid. She had me tap the diamond shape below my nose, five times, saying it is some kind of special point, and this allowed her to get better readings, where before I was all crazy.
It sounds crazy, really, but I try to keep an open mind, of unknowing. I know things aren't as they seem, always, so this is very possible. There's so much I don't know, and understand.
Oddly, counter to what I had been told by another doctor, I was found to be only allergic to dairy as far as individual foods go. Dairy can also mean eggs, I think. I'm not sure what I think about this. I haven't been able to eat much of anything for awhile without some reaction. But she told me I was reacting to my own acids. Cholic acid and another cholic acid. Dexa.. uhh.. I forget. Dec. I don't know. And acetic acid. Then there were "phenolics", generally, which I imagine goes into other things of that kind.
I already notice, that chocolate no longer makes me feel... "sick". Not quite the same. Maybe I just got it into my head. And I ate lamb without a bad headache or reaction... Basically, I'm allergic to myself, and my own processes. In a way. There's probably more, but it was, if this works at all (as it seems to), probably effected positively.
I saw that Donna, the girl I pay attention to sometimes, often, every day- nearly, had changed her facebook profile image to an angel, after my appointment.
Sometimes I don't know. I mean, I never know. I guess. Yea I say it could be coincidence, but this is something. And I don't want to get my hopes up, about it being true that I don't have as many actual allergies. But I know that, for instance, rice gives me hives, and her tests didn't pick up on that. But, I guess it could be the way I am reacting to my own system, which is odd, but possible. Any way, whatever she did, seemed to help, and I have felt better. Or hopeful, at least. But again, again, I don't want to jump up and down just yet.
I plan on treating the rest of my sensitivities, dairy, phenolic acids (wide general), and molds, and then trying acupuncture with the guy who runs that place, to see if that helps me with anything.
I'm going to document my return to using Seroquel XR for bi-polar maintenence therapy. Seroquel is an anti-psychotic with mood-stabilizing properties. I will post after significant changes\observations. So maybe 3 total over the span of the two weeks before I see my doctor again.
I went to the doctor and told him I stopped CT the Seroquel XR and Mirtazepine a while ago as I'm trying too loose weight, get a girlfriend, and do a bunch of other lifestyle changes all at once. I was in the middle of a manic episode for sure (and still am). He of course advised against doing this sort of thing in the future. I apologized many times. I don't really like the meds because I feel they make me tired. However they make me much more stable and normal. I need to settle for normal and tired.
Without these meds I've been feeling sooo good (for the most part). I lost 20 pounds in like a month. I've started riding my bike a lot and eating very healthy. I can ride 12 mph up and down hills for 30 minutes. Not much to you real cyclist but I feel like fucking Lance Armstrong. I'm 22 and want to get in good physical shape because I've never been before in my life. I look good now. And I know it. I can feel it. I'm doing good at work, my social skills and sense of humor is sharp, etc. I've become interested in women for the first time in over 2 years.
But I know that this is all very temporary. My mood swings are more severe. I get angry easily. My mind is going to fast for me to keep up with. I feel like I'm in the movie Limitless. Unlimited cognitive potential but time just seems to be skipping forward. I'm literally descending into insanity which is a profound psychedelic experience only the mentallly ill get to experience. 30 minutes before I wrote this I took 150 mg of Seroquel XR. Lots of alcohol and pot on board so this should hit pretty hard. 20 minutes later waiting...but to no avail so far.
So I do what any reasonable BL'er would do. I drink a couple more shot of Canadian Hunter and smoke another bowl hit.
This shit takes time to hit. But when it does it's a fucking ton of bricks. You better be near a bed I don't care if your just taking 25-50mg this shit is a Major Tranquilizer. Xanax is punk shit compared to Seroquel in terms of sedation. Be prepared to sleep atleast 8-10 hours and spend the following four in a daze after your first dose. But I'm fairly tuned up right now. And this Seroquel is not going to do shit for another hour most likely. It sure is killing my weed buzz which is why I take it before bed.
So I can feel the Seroquel now. Its been an hour. I'm going to fight it a bit because its a pleasant state for someone who is loosing their grip on their moods and emotions. I don't even care about being a zombie at this point. Knock me the fuck out please!!! I have Remeron and Klonopin around but I don't think I'll need either. Maybe one more shot and I'm fucking out. Will try to post a couple more sentences before I pass out... And here it goes; I'm truely feeling calm. Like I can sleep. I feel like a baby in their mothers womb. Ready for a nice cozy rest,
12 hours later I awake and feel like total shit. I'm too tired to smoke weed. Totally lobotomy is what it feel like first thing the morning. That's when you gotta get moving. I also ate several cookies in the middle of the night. I better not make that a habit.
I went to the doctor and told him I stopped CT the Seroquel XR and Mirtazepine a while ago as I'm trying too loose weight, get a girlfriend, and do a bunch of other lifestyle changes all at once. I was in the middle of a manic episode for sure (and still am). He of course advised against doing this sort of thing in the future. I apologized many times. I don't really like the meds because I feel they make me tired. However they make me much more stable and normal. I need to settle for normal and tired.
Without these meds I've been feeling sooo good (for the most part). I lost 20 pounds in like a month. I've started riding my bike a lot and eating very healthy. I can ride 12 mph up and down hills for 30 minutes. Not much to you real cyclist but I feel like fucking Lance Armstrong. I'm 22 and want to get in good physical shape because I've never been before in my life. I look good now. And I know it. I can feel it. I'm doing good at work, my social skills and sense of humor is sharp, etc. I've become interested in women for the first time in over 2 years.
But I know that this is all very temporary. My mood swings are more severe. I get angry easily. My mind is going to fast for me to keep up with. I feel like I'm in the movie Limitless. Unlimited cognitive potential but time just seems to be skipping forward. I'm literally descending into insanity which is a profound psychedelic experience only the mentallly ill get to experience. 30 minutes before I wrote this I took 150 mg of Seroquel XR. Lots of alcohol and pot on board so this should hit pretty hard. 20 minutes later waiting...but to no avail so far.
So I do what any reasonable BL'er would do. I drink a couple more shot of Canadian Hunter and smoke another bowl hit.
This shit takes time to hit. But when it does it's a fucking ton of bricks. You better be near a bed I don't care if your just taking 25-50mg this shit is a Major Tranquilizer. Xanax is punk shit compared to Seroquel in terms of sedation. Be prepared to sleep atleast 8-10 hours and spend the following four in a daze after your first dose. But I'm fairly tuned up right now. And this Seroquel is not going to do shit for another hour most likely. It sure is killing my weed buzz which is why I take it before bed.
So I can feel the Seroquel now. Its been an hour. I'm going to fight it a bit because its a pleasant state for someone who is loosing their grip on their moods and emotions. I don't even care about being a zombie at this point. Knock me the fuck out please!!! I have Remeron and Klonopin around but I don't think I'll need either. Maybe one more shot and I'm fucking out. Will try to post a couple more sentences before I pass out... And here it goes; I'm truely feeling calm. Like I can sleep. I feel like a baby in their mothers womb. Ready for a nice cozy rest,
12 hours later I awake and feel like total shit. I'm too tired to smoke weed. Totally lobotomy is what it feel like first thing the morning. That's when you gotta get moving. I also ate several cookies in the middle of the night. I better not make that a habit.
A lot has happened since I got busted Feb 2013. Too much to really get into, but a couple highlights: mom threw me out on the street about June 20, 2013 because she's getting older, wants things her way or not at all, wanted way more money than I could afford on fixed disability income like $600-$800/mo, is pissed cause I didn't either pay what she wanted as I did in the past or not pay but do a, b, c, d, e, and f if paying $300-$400/mo only. In other words stop sleeping all the fucking time, which I was/am guilty of, but not cause I want to. I told her 30 day notice at least please, she said no.
Funny thing is I'm thinking fine. It is what it is. This fatigue hit me like a pile of bricks end of 2008 and began while I had been alcohol/drug free 27 mo. It was in fact the last 9mo of sobriety I tried like hell to find out why and treat or cure the cause of being tired 24/7. Rent had to be paid, life went on, its demands went on so reluctantly MD found nothing, I felt tired 24/7 no matter how much or little sleep I got. Meth was the only treatment I knew would allow me to be awake and do something beside sleep.
After 3 yrs an my check that kept getting smaller an smaller with no relief from bills in sight, gave me a mother of an anxiety attack one night to drive. I've been off work since Oct 2012. I knew once kicked out, there would be nothing but a shitload of trouble with the law, as I've been on probation and had nowhere to go except sleep in my car and/or live at drug house. I got tired of sleeping in my car and like to shower every day, a luxury not even mom allowed more than twice a week. Long story short house got raided many times as I knew it would.
While not busted for more drugs, its a violation for me just to be there. As I said to my PO what was I supposed to do? Hud or discount housing takes a couple years in the mean time not even sober living homes want me cause of my Rx pain med. Fine by me if you wanna know the truth. While willing to meet halfway and not do meth, sorry not quitting both. Not ready, willing, or able at this time. Finally I caught a break, as I explained to my doc the legal hassles and asked him to write me some letters to get the courts to please back off demanding I pay these clowns for probation, court fines, blah blah.
When he told me he's very concerned and quite sure I have liver cancer, oddly enough I feel a huge relief cause now the world don't think I'm a liar an just bullshitting to get a free ride on the dole. They almost threw me in jail when I went to court as ordered every month for being in violation and living where I was, ect. I showed the public defenders the two letters from doc listing my many life threatening medical problems and glad I had told my P.O the reason I had been livin where I was and my sheets of med problems. The DA wanted to throw me to the wolves and I had begged my PD to please allow me to park car at moms and get property at motel. Its all I've got.
Hands behind ur back, I heard yet again and resigned myself to the fact I'm done. Its jails and the street from here on out. Yes, I know half this mess is my fault. As for the rest, it don't matter a dope fiend is by default a felon. Never mind I'm not the sort of addict that steals to get drugs. I was in fact asleep on the couch at my friends the day I got busted after being out of trouble with the law 7 yrs nor was I on probation or parole the time they unlawfully searched me even though they had who they wanted in custody.
Tough break. It is what it is. Although not jumping for joy having cancer, I'm damn glad for once I might be catching a break. The judge, pub defenders, and my P.O seemed to be on my side because of the proof of cancer/low income/homelessness. I make enough money to pay motel every other week that's it. I don't know what the hell awaits me in court tomorrow AM, but its specifically court for medical/legal/homeless and solves the housing issue by providing affordable housing or something, but I don't know what.
Hope it works out and that per chance maybe there's an end in sight to this whole flippin nightmare at last. Funny thing is, aside from the chronic fatigue, I don't feel like I have cancer. I haven't lost my looks yet because of it apparently judging by how men still look at me walking down the street. I'm pushin 50, an old broad except I don't feel old. WTF how did 1/2 century be practically gone? It feels good to have hope for once instead of never ending despair. If I get help with housing, anything other than jail or sober living, then this hell being on the street and harassed by the cops will have been worth it. While not in agreement with mom, I'm glad to be out of her house. She's gotten way too mean and way too rigid with her rules. No shower past 11pm, no more than 2/wk 2min long, no goin in or out of house past 8pm, no goin to kitchen or walkn down hall past 10pm cause it makes her nervous, bedroom must be picked up, mattress included, put back exactly as she always has it, to name a few rigid rules. I told her there's no way she'll ever get another renter, let alone one for $800/mo lol. She agrees. That said, I 'm just glad to be in this motel I paid for the week. I only hope tomorrow brings good news. Peace out.
Funny thing is I'm thinking fine. It is what it is. This fatigue hit me like a pile of bricks end of 2008 and began while I had been alcohol/drug free 27 mo. It was in fact the last 9mo of sobriety I tried like hell to find out why and treat or cure the cause of being tired 24/7. Rent had to be paid, life went on, its demands went on so reluctantly MD found nothing, I felt tired 24/7 no matter how much or little sleep I got. Meth was the only treatment I knew would allow me to be awake and do something beside sleep.
After 3 yrs an my check that kept getting smaller an smaller with no relief from bills in sight, gave me a mother of an anxiety attack one night to drive. I've been off work since Oct 2012. I knew once kicked out, there would be nothing but a shitload of trouble with the law, as I've been on probation and had nowhere to go except sleep in my car and/or live at drug house. I got tired of sleeping in my car and like to shower every day, a luxury not even mom allowed more than twice a week. Long story short house got raided many times as I knew it would.
While not busted for more drugs, its a violation for me just to be there. As I said to my PO what was I supposed to do? Hud or discount housing takes a couple years in the mean time not even sober living homes want me cause of my Rx pain med. Fine by me if you wanna know the truth. While willing to meet halfway and not do meth, sorry not quitting both. Not ready, willing, or able at this time. Finally I caught a break, as I explained to my doc the legal hassles and asked him to write me some letters to get the courts to please back off demanding I pay these clowns for probation, court fines, blah blah.
When he told me he's very concerned and quite sure I have liver cancer, oddly enough I feel a huge relief cause now the world don't think I'm a liar an just bullshitting to get a free ride on the dole. They almost threw me in jail when I went to court as ordered every month for being in violation and living where I was, ect. I showed the public defenders the two letters from doc listing my many life threatening medical problems and glad I had told my P.O the reason I had been livin where I was and my sheets of med problems. The DA wanted to throw me to the wolves and I had begged my PD to please allow me to park car at moms and get property at motel. Its all I've got.
Hands behind ur back, I heard yet again and resigned myself to the fact I'm done. Its jails and the street from here on out. Yes, I know half this mess is my fault. As for the rest, it don't matter a dope fiend is by default a felon. Never mind I'm not the sort of addict that steals to get drugs. I was in fact asleep on the couch at my friends the day I got busted after being out of trouble with the law 7 yrs nor was I on probation or parole the time they unlawfully searched me even though they had who they wanted in custody.
Tough break. It is what it is. Although not jumping for joy having cancer, I'm damn glad for once I might be catching a break. The judge, pub defenders, and my P.O seemed to be on my side because of the proof of cancer/low income/homelessness. I make enough money to pay motel every other week that's it. I don't know what the hell awaits me in court tomorrow AM, but its specifically court for medical/legal/homeless and solves the housing issue by providing affordable housing or something, but I don't know what.
Hope it works out and that per chance maybe there's an end in sight to this whole flippin nightmare at last. Funny thing is, aside from the chronic fatigue, I don't feel like I have cancer. I haven't lost my looks yet because of it apparently judging by how men still look at me walking down the street. I'm pushin 50, an old broad except I don't feel old. WTF how did 1/2 century be practically gone? It feels good to have hope for once instead of never ending despair. If I get help with housing, anything other than jail or sober living, then this hell being on the street and harassed by the cops will have been worth it. While not in agreement with mom, I'm glad to be out of her house. She's gotten way too mean and way too rigid with her rules. No shower past 11pm, no more than 2/wk 2min long, no goin in or out of house past 8pm, no goin to kitchen or walkn down hall past 10pm cause it makes her nervous, bedroom must be picked up, mattress included, put back exactly as she always has it, to name a few rigid rules. I told her there's no way she'll ever get another renter, let alone one for $800/mo lol. She agrees. That said, I 'm just glad to be in this motel I paid for the week. I only hope tomorrow brings good news. Peace out.
I realise I love smoking weed and listen to classical music.
and it's MMJ.
so fuck what I wrote yesterday.
I have a good life.
and it's MMJ.
so fuck what I wrote yesterday.
I have a good life.
first blog,y'all.
writing here has shown me that I have turned into a STONER.
I quit heroin 5 years ago and last smoked crack a year ago.
I have replaced that shit with marijuana.that's it.
having MI and smoking pot is interesting.
I get MMJ for anxiety,but the pot instead makes me a lil paranoid.
hard to admit.
i want it to be perfect.
I want to start sobering up for real.
it's just too much w subs,pot,psych meds,coffee by the litre,cigs....
soon I will be posting about being clean.
peace.
writing here has shown me that I have turned into a STONER.
I quit heroin 5 years ago and last smoked crack a year ago.
I have replaced that shit with marijuana.that's it.
having MI and smoking pot is interesting.
I get MMJ for anxiety,but the pot instead makes me a lil paranoid.
hard to admit.
i want it to be perfect.
I want to start sobering up for real.
it's just too much w subs,pot,psych meds,coffee by the litre,cigs....
soon I will be posting about being clean.
peace.
Stomach: almost empty. Have some Alprazolam and Clonidine in case I feel bad or too excited.
T - 1.00: I take 75mg Lyrica
T - 0.30: I take 100mg Modafinil
T - 0.00: I take 30mg Memantine with a Red Bull. Smoked 2 cigarettes.
(after coming home I read on Wikipedia that Memantine acts as a non-competitive antagonist at different neuronal nicotinic acetylcholine receptors, and a study proved that Nicotine works as a sort of agonist for Memantine, which also acts as an agonist at the dopamine receptor, improving the wakefulness with smoking)
T + 0.30: I take another 10mg Memantine. Still feeling nothing noticeable from the Memantine I think, just feeling awakened and a more social than usual from the Modafinil probably
.
T + 1.00: Ok, now I'm starting to feel weird, the same Memantine feeling I remember from before and from tiny doses of DXM. I feel like inside of my head is getting hotter; definitely something the Memantine is doing. My vision is also affected, I almost can't tell, but all my vision feels.. weird, and very often I see afterimages. I think I'm getting a little nervous and more awake than I was an hour before.
T + 1.30: I'm feeling better, my attention span has increased noticeably, I can focus much better in tasks such as reading, programming, or playing video games. I'm taking 10mg more Memantine with some Coffee.
T + 2.00: Watching pretty pictures feels different, specially where there are lots of different tones of colors, it's like all tones appears to be important. I'm enjoying this, so I'm taking 50mg Modafinil more (reaching 150mg)
T + 2.30: A very subtle mild similar sensation to Ketamine can be felt sometimes; I thought I felt nervous or with much anxiety, but in reality I'm experiencing a strong thinking process about everything around. I'll take 1mg of Alprazolam, more because of the Modafinil than the Memantine.
T + 3.00: I'm feeling great, the only problem is that there are lapses of time that I'm at loss at everything, but except that, It's like I'm processing everything around me and I can totally focus on any task. I'm taking 75mg of Lyrica just because it feels good to me.
after this, I spent 2 hours chatting very happily with some people, but when my friends went to sleep, play something, or work, I began to think about my life abruptly and realized how lonely and poor I was, it wasn't a panic attack, I had some of those before, it was a very logical conclusion of my meaningless existence.
I went to bed and watched some cartoons for kids to not worry about anything, because I was like scared, and after taking some more Lyrica, 150mg I think, and 4mg of Alprazolam, I was able to fall asleep...
but it didn't end there.
When I wake up, my brain was rebooted. Typical effect of a NMDA blocking receptor drug.
My perception of my existence was different, I wasn't enlightened or anything like that, I was aware of my situation, and the fake cloud of happiness I had been keeping in my mind to not despair was destroyed or removed.
I began to do things more responsibly the next day like a machine, and was thinking forward all the time.
So, in the end.... I think we have a VERY POTENTIAL DRUG here for self awareness, to get the ego of ours destroyed and reboot our way of thinking; I'll keep taking 10mg per day of this drug now, after a big impact (50mg was enough for me), it helps me think way more objectively and I'm self aware of myself. That in the process may be a good thing or not, I really SUFFERED that night. But it was worth it.
T - 1.00: I take 75mg Lyrica
T - 0.30: I take 100mg Modafinil
T - 0.00: I take 30mg Memantine with a Red Bull. Smoked 2 cigarettes.
(after coming home I read on Wikipedia that Memantine acts as a non-competitive antagonist at different neuronal nicotinic acetylcholine receptors, and a study proved that Nicotine works as a sort of agonist for Memantine, which also acts as an agonist at the dopamine receptor, improving the wakefulness with smoking)
T + 0.30: I take another 10mg Memantine. Still feeling nothing noticeable from the Memantine I think, just feeling awakened and a more social than usual from the Modafinil probably
.
T + 1.00: Ok, now I'm starting to feel weird, the same Memantine feeling I remember from before and from tiny doses of DXM. I feel like inside of my head is getting hotter; definitely something the Memantine is doing. My vision is also affected, I almost can't tell, but all my vision feels.. weird, and very often I see afterimages. I think I'm getting a little nervous and more awake than I was an hour before.
T + 1.30: I'm feeling better, my attention span has increased noticeably, I can focus much better in tasks such as reading, programming, or playing video games. I'm taking 10mg more Memantine with some Coffee.
T + 2.00: Watching pretty pictures feels different, specially where there are lots of different tones of colors, it's like all tones appears to be important. I'm enjoying this, so I'm taking 50mg Modafinil more (reaching 150mg)
T + 2.30: A very subtle mild similar sensation to Ketamine can be felt sometimes; I thought I felt nervous or with much anxiety, but in reality I'm experiencing a strong thinking process about everything around. I'll take 1mg of Alprazolam, more because of the Modafinil than the Memantine.
T + 3.00: I'm feeling great, the only problem is that there are lapses of time that I'm at loss at everything, but except that, It's like I'm processing everything around me and I can totally focus on any task. I'm taking 75mg of Lyrica just because it feels good to me.
after this, I spent 2 hours chatting very happily with some people, but when my friends went to sleep, play something, or work, I began to think about my life abruptly and realized how lonely and poor I was, it wasn't a panic attack, I had some of those before, it was a very logical conclusion of my meaningless existence.
I went to bed and watched some cartoons for kids to not worry about anything, because I was like scared, and after taking some more Lyrica, 150mg I think, and 4mg of Alprazolam, I was able to fall asleep...
but it didn't end there.
When I wake up, my brain was rebooted. Typical effect of a NMDA blocking receptor drug.
My perception of my existence was different, I wasn't enlightened or anything like that, I was aware of my situation, and the fake cloud of happiness I had been keeping in my mind to not despair was destroyed or removed.
I began to do things more responsibly the next day like a machine, and was thinking forward all the time.
So, in the end.... I think we have a VERY POTENTIAL DRUG here for self awareness, to get the ego of ours destroyed and reboot our way of thinking; I'll keep taking 10mg per day of this drug now, after a big impact (50mg was enough for me), it helps me think way more objectively and I'm self aware of myself. That in the process may be a good thing or not, I really SUFFERED that night. But it was worth it.
this is inspired by the buzzfeed-style lists of X things about Y. this is a_c's week in pictures (with the help of google image search). and i think other people should make picture lists about themselves...
sunday nights are spent here
monday morning i feel like this
tuesday i keep thinking this
wednesday nights are spent playing this
sunday nights are spent here
monday morning i feel like this
tuesday i keep thinking this
wednesday nights are spent playing this
*bmmrp bmmrp brrmp*
Lonewolf waking up to his alarm clock, knocking over countless cans of steel reserve as he reaches to turn it off.
his roomate opens the door.
"whats all the commotion?"
who said it first? they both held a straight face
a wave of empty 211 cans spill out the door.
lonewolf pulls out a gun.
lonewolf begins to confronts his roomate's intrusion by crushing an empty can on his forehead.
Staring into his soul of a roommate with his evil injin eyes.
He drearily wanders past a few unopened cans nestled inside of his wizardlike sleeved pajamas dropping to the floor.
roaring to the sound of his jeep Cherokee he makes haste to the nearest convience store/gas station
Lonewolf waking up to his alarm clock, knocking over countless cans of steel reserve as he reaches to turn it off.
his roomate opens the door.
"whats all the commotion?"
who said it first? they both held a straight face
a wave of empty 211 cans spill out the door.
lonewolf pulls out a gun.
lonewolf begins to confronts his roomate's intrusion by crushing an empty can on his forehead.
Staring into his soul of a roommate with his evil injin eyes.
He drearily wanders past a few unopened cans nestled inside of his wizardlike sleeved pajamas dropping to the floor.
roaring to the sound of his jeep Cherokee he makes haste to the nearest convience store/gas station
I'll come out and say it; I've been feeling sad lately. I normally hold bloggers who whinge hedonistically in contempt but i'm starting to see the value in doing them. Where else can I write what's happening in my life candidly almost like a journal but with the possibility that hundreds of strangers might see it on the internet? The future, it's a wonderful thing.
So, I've been discovered "using" again. I live at home. The anxiety and terror in my parents eyes is devastating when we try to discuss why and how I do drugs. Before I paint an uglier picture than you might be concocting; I'm not mixing meth and heroin into speedballs and waking up to crawling bugs under my skin. I'm a habitual codeine indulger, pot smoker, and psychedelic experimenter. Do I have a dependence on drugs? Yes. Have they fucked up my life? As any frequent drug user would probably say; I don't think so. How can you tell? How do I know I didn't land that job because my otherwise pervasive anxiety wasn't dulled so well by the small dose of codeine I took before the interview? Yet how do I know if it's the codeine which simultaneously is making me look like an uninterested, "to-easy-going" slob?
How do I know, from my own experience, if I'd be happier in the long run completely sober? Intellectually, it makes sense. But the holes I fill with substances, cannot be filled by another; they can only be filled by myself. And, whilst it seems paradoxical, the sickness I feel living in this world whilst sober seems to confronting; honestly, frightening; and not just from an intellectual standpoint. I can feel the sickness of the world in my bones. Perhaps some people wake up everyday and without knowing it, involuntarily, have already swallowed the red pill - and the rest of the day is a fight not to get some blue pills to balance out this most cruel and burdening of gifts.
So, I've been discovered "using" again. I live at home. The anxiety and terror in my parents eyes is devastating when we try to discuss why and how I do drugs. Before I paint an uglier picture than you might be concocting; I'm not mixing meth and heroin into speedballs and waking up to crawling bugs under my skin. I'm a habitual codeine indulger, pot smoker, and psychedelic experimenter. Do I have a dependence on drugs? Yes. Have they fucked up my life? As any frequent drug user would probably say; I don't think so. How can you tell? How do I know I didn't land that job because my otherwise pervasive anxiety wasn't dulled so well by the small dose of codeine I took before the interview? Yet how do I know if it's the codeine which simultaneously is making me look like an uninterested, "to-easy-going" slob?
How do I know, from my own experience, if I'd be happier in the long run completely sober? Intellectually, it makes sense. But the holes I fill with substances, cannot be filled by another; they can only be filled by myself. And, whilst it seems paradoxical, the sickness I feel living in this world whilst sober seems to confronting; honestly, frightening; and not just from an intellectual standpoint. I can feel the sickness of the world in my bones. Perhaps some people wake up everyday and without knowing it, involuntarily, have already swallowed the red pill - and the rest of the day is a fight not to get some blue pills to balance out this most cruel and burdening of gifts.