3/19/2009
I went to the dentist for some oral surgery today, which turned out to be way more than just a “simple procedure.” It seems that lately anytime I go to just have a cavity filled, it turns into something like a crown or a surgery. Christ I’m gonna die broke paying for all this dental work. Sigh. At least I’m getting it done though, I guess. I’ve all ready lost 8 of my lower teeth, but my uppers are intact and straight. Today, he took off some of my gum, took off some of my bone, cleaned out the decay and sutured me up, so I have 5 stitches. He said, “You’re gonna be a little sore for a couple days.” Yeah, no shit. I took 3 painkillers when I got home and now almost 6 hrs later I’m sore again.
I had a migraine earlier plus the tooth pain and I wanted to get a buzz, so I figured I’d kill 3 birds with one stone. Doing drugs again is like slipping into a pair of old, comfortable slippers. As the pain left and the buzz came on it brought back old feelings of comfort, security, and warmth. I stopped by Linda and Aimee’s after getting a pedicure and my legs waxed. I’ve come to the conclusion that as much as I hate it, I’m fat, at least compared to my sexier, thin self, so deal with it. Self hate is like swallowing poison and hoping you won’t die. It’s self defeating, therefore pointless. Once I gained weight, I quit doing little niceties like make up and hair, plus pretty clothes the way I used to do when I was thin.
I cannot change the weight, at least not overnight, and truthfully I have serious doubts that I’ll ever be able to do it again without speed. So, today I did make up and hair, did the pedicure and legs. I asked the lady if she did Brazilian wax, some places do, some don’t. I shave most of it all off, except for a tiny triangle on top for decoration. I mean, I don’t want to be completely bald, just ¾ bald. The lady said they did, so next time I’ll try a wax. Having my thighs waxed hurt like hell before, so I switched to shaving, but I’ll try it again. Anyway, Linda said I looked nice and Aimee was asleep. I was hoping to get pictures of Aimee and I together looking nice because she really looks pretty when she dresses up and puts her make up on in spite of the fact that she too, gained weight. She never took off all the weight she put on while she was in prison for almost 2 years, but she’s still pretty, and so am I.
Truthfully, I so miss having the sexy, flat meth belly because I could wear lowriser jeans that showed off my belly button and I looked hot. All my customers sure as hell thought so back in 2005 or they wouldn’t have paid for me. I miss my meth looks, but I don’t miss being strung out. I’ve all ready got a small tramadol habit which is not fun and I know taking Rx painkillers for my gums and bone being sliced open won’t help, but to hell with it. I won’t take the tramadol for the 2 or 3 days I’m on my Rx dope. Rx dope is dangerous territory for me, in fact that was my name for my fiorinal with codeine pills, Dangerous. Crystal Hyde was the name for crystal meth, the alter ego
I became. Crystal was a girlfriend because when under the influence she taught me about clothes, make up, hair, and attracting the guys, whereas Dangerous was a seductive, soft, but strong lover ready to take me under his wing and wipe all my tears away when I came crawling to him for protection from physical or emotional pain. The catch was of course, once hooked, it was impossible to get out from under his thumb completely and now the dance is starting back up again, first with the tramadol and yes, I’ll have to be sure 3 days is the longest I take Rx painkillers.
After that, it will be back to tramadol and kicking. I’m having serious doubts as to whether I ever will get off this crap again, not because I don’t want to but because kicking makes me feel like fucking shit! I could handle a week of hell, but not another 2 or 3 goddamned months. Sigh. This is why I’d really like one serious dose of ibogaine so I can just be done with it. Mom asked why don’t I just go into detox. I said, “Are you kidding? No place is gonna detox me from a 4 pill a day habit from tramadol and besides that even if they did, medical detox would cost a hell of a lot more than $600 for 2 grams of ibogaine.” So fuck, I’m not sure what’s going to happen, but I’ll probably be stuck detoxing the slow way and that sucks ass. I don’t know if I can or will.
I went to the dentist for some oral surgery today, which turned out to be way more than just a “simple procedure.” It seems that lately anytime I go to just have a cavity filled, it turns into something like a crown or a surgery. Christ I’m gonna die broke paying for all this dental work. Sigh. At least I’m getting it done though, I guess. I’ve all ready lost 8 of my lower teeth, but my uppers are intact and straight. Today, he took off some of my gum, took off some of my bone, cleaned out the decay and sutured me up, so I have 5 stitches. He said, “You’re gonna be a little sore for a couple days.” Yeah, no shit. I took 3 painkillers when I got home and now almost 6 hrs later I’m sore again.
I had a migraine earlier plus the tooth pain and I wanted to get a buzz, so I figured I’d kill 3 birds with one stone. Doing drugs again is like slipping into a pair of old, comfortable slippers. As the pain left and the buzz came on it brought back old feelings of comfort, security, and warmth. I stopped by Linda and Aimee’s after getting a pedicure and my legs waxed. I’ve come to the conclusion that as much as I hate it, I’m fat, at least compared to my sexier, thin self, so deal with it. Self hate is like swallowing poison and hoping you won’t die. It’s self defeating, therefore pointless. Once I gained weight, I quit doing little niceties like make up and hair, plus pretty clothes the way I used to do when I was thin.
I cannot change the weight, at least not overnight, and truthfully I have serious doubts that I’ll ever be able to do it again without speed. So, today I did make up and hair, did the pedicure and legs. I asked the lady if she did Brazilian wax, some places do, some don’t. I shave most of it all off, except for a tiny triangle on top for decoration. I mean, I don’t want to be completely bald, just ¾ bald. The lady said they did, so next time I’ll try a wax. Having my thighs waxed hurt like hell before, so I switched to shaving, but I’ll try it again. Anyway, Linda said I looked nice and Aimee was asleep. I was hoping to get pictures of Aimee and I together looking nice because she really looks pretty when she dresses up and puts her make up on in spite of the fact that she too, gained weight. She never took off all the weight she put on while she was in prison for almost 2 years, but she’s still pretty, and so am I.
Truthfully, I so miss having the sexy, flat meth belly because I could wear lowriser jeans that showed off my belly button and I looked hot. All my customers sure as hell thought so back in 2005 or they wouldn’t have paid for me. I miss my meth looks, but I don’t miss being strung out. I’ve all ready got a small tramadol habit which is not fun and I know taking Rx painkillers for my gums and bone being sliced open won’t help, but to hell with it. I won’t take the tramadol for the 2 or 3 days I’m on my Rx dope. Rx dope is dangerous territory for me, in fact that was my name for my fiorinal with codeine pills, Dangerous. Crystal Hyde was the name for crystal meth, the alter ego
I became. Crystal was a girlfriend because when under the influence she taught me about clothes, make up, hair, and attracting the guys, whereas Dangerous was a seductive, soft, but strong lover ready to take me under his wing and wipe all my tears away when I came crawling to him for protection from physical or emotional pain. The catch was of course, once hooked, it was impossible to get out from under his thumb completely and now the dance is starting back up again, first with the tramadol and yes, I’ll have to be sure 3 days is the longest I take Rx painkillers.
After that, it will be back to tramadol and kicking. I’m having serious doubts as to whether I ever will get off this crap again, not because I don’t want to but because kicking makes me feel like fucking shit! I could handle a week of hell, but not another 2 or 3 goddamned months. Sigh. This is why I’d really like one serious dose of ibogaine so I can just be done with it. Mom asked why don’t I just go into detox. I said, “Are you kidding? No place is gonna detox me from a 4 pill a day habit from tramadol and besides that even if they did, medical detox would cost a hell of a lot more than $600 for 2 grams of ibogaine.” So fuck, I’m not sure what’s going to happen, but I’ll probably be stuck detoxing the slow way and that sucks ass. I don’t know if I can or will.
