I can't help but think you're REALLY wasting your time reading this. Don't even bother. God help you you're almost as lost as I am and the days where I might have even been able to give half ass solid direction are long fucking gone. You're both angry with me anyway, and that's all right, I don't hold that against you, all I can tell you for sure is that I'm not even worth whatever angst that I may have unintentionally caused you, so you lurk, but say nothing. Don't even trip, because I'm in a whole heap of trouble, and God help me I'm afraid. I've been down this road before, I'm afraid some bad shit is gonna happen, although I don't want it to. You two, like me will continue your chems. I tried, really TRIED the straight and narrow path for 2 yrs. It's a miracle I lasted that long.
Who knows what may or may not have happened had I never gotten detoured by that damned Tramadol. Giving up the mild buzz was no big deal, but the W/D's trying repeatedly to get off of it, even gradually, God what a nightmare!! For all the hell it put me through, just as well I switched to the REAL painkillers, but now sister crystal is back and fuck me, this addiction is bigger, stronger, and WAY badder than I could ever be and although the highs are awesome, I'm back to feeling chemical dependency full force and I'm in a mega shitload of trouble and I'm fucking scared to death. I don't think I can get out of it this time, God fuckin help me. I tried unsuccessfully before to manage a full time habit, but all I got was a shitload of unmanageability.
I cannot believe how utterly useless I am, a full time slave to my bodies damn needs, whether it's dope or food, one or the other. Friday, the chronic fatigue hit me full force as always, cause I stop the meth Thursday. I sleep 8 to 10 hrs Fri-Mon, but wake up tired still, and am still a slave to my cursed appetite. I cannot believe this. So, Tuesday rolls around, I decide fuck it, I can't take falling asleep 24/7. Aimee and Don helped me, but I didn't go 2 work Tuesday, only because instead of the usual place, I'd of had to drive all over bum fuck Egygpt to a place I'd never been in heavy late afternoon traffic, so I called off. I had fun where I was at, visited with the friends and group where I truly am at home--in my own element.
Linda drove us around to different stores, one of which was a tobacco shop. I end up buying a couple items, and of course run into an NA member, whose name I couldn't even remember, but I know he could tell I was under the influence. I didn't necessarily appear that way to normies, as I know how to maintain, although looking into that guy's eyes, well I know that he knew---and that he knew that I knew, FUCK. The shit was fucking killer, I hardly touched any. Linda, Cody, and I were sitting in her bedroom, and yes I'm thrilled to death to weigh around 200 lbs instead of a disgraceful hoggish 240 lbs. Cody did say though, "I can definitely tell you've lost a lot of weight." I'm happy about that, but what's sad is the truth.
I wish the truth was merely self discipline, but actually even when it was during my Atkins diet phase, I was tortured non stop by food cravings in the absense of dope. This is so not cool. I don't care about being a model anymore, but why can't I stop being bothered with cravings for bad food and only be content to eat 3 small meals a day? I ended up staying at Linda's all night, and Mom of course is very suspicious of my activities. It's absolutely rediculous that a 44 y/o woman has to feel as paranoid as I did when I was 15 and trying to sneak out of the house to see my illicit much older, outlaw boyfriend back in 1980. So I'm in trouble financially again. Dunno what I'm gonna do.
I'm hooked on dope again. Dunno what I'm gonna do about that. As for the cyber sex, it was all fun, but I'll never have live sex with him or anyone else. I see this, the lust has been replaced with fear, and God help me I cannot go through another jail term. I'm in a shitload of trouble, I'm scared because I don't know what's gonna happen and I have this feeling that after the highs, soon something bad's gonna happen and I'd rather have no life than jail, constant poverty, or W/D's. Lord end my life, or get me the fuck out of this...
Who knows what may or may not have happened had I never gotten detoured by that damned Tramadol. Giving up the mild buzz was no big deal, but the W/D's trying repeatedly to get off of it, even gradually, God what a nightmare!! For all the hell it put me through, just as well I switched to the REAL painkillers, but now sister crystal is back and fuck me, this addiction is bigger, stronger, and WAY badder than I could ever be and although the highs are awesome, I'm back to feeling chemical dependency full force and I'm in a mega shitload of trouble and I'm fucking scared to death. I don't think I can get out of it this time, God fuckin help me. I tried unsuccessfully before to manage a full time habit, but all I got was a shitload of unmanageability.
I cannot believe how utterly useless I am, a full time slave to my bodies damn needs, whether it's dope or food, one or the other. Friday, the chronic fatigue hit me full force as always, cause I stop the meth Thursday. I sleep 8 to 10 hrs Fri-Mon, but wake up tired still, and am still a slave to my cursed appetite. I cannot believe this. So, Tuesday rolls around, I decide fuck it, I can't take falling asleep 24/7. Aimee and Don helped me, but I didn't go 2 work Tuesday, only because instead of the usual place, I'd of had to drive all over bum fuck Egygpt to a place I'd never been in heavy late afternoon traffic, so I called off. I had fun where I was at, visited with the friends and group where I truly am at home--in my own element.
Linda drove us around to different stores, one of which was a tobacco shop. I end up buying a couple items, and of course run into an NA member, whose name I couldn't even remember, but I know he could tell I was under the influence. I didn't necessarily appear that way to normies, as I know how to maintain, although looking into that guy's eyes, well I know that he knew---and that he knew that I knew, FUCK. The shit was fucking killer, I hardly touched any. Linda, Cody, and I were sitting in her bedroom, and yes I'm thrilled to death to weigh around 200 lbs instead of a disgraceful hoggish 240 lbs. Cody did say though, "I can definitely tell you've lost a lot of weight." I'm happy about that, but what's sad is the truth.
I wish the truth was merely self discipline, but actually even when it was during my Atkins diet phase, I was tortured non stop by food cravings in the absense of dope. This is so not cool. I don't care about being a model anymore, but why can't I stop being bothered with cravings for bad food and only be content to eat 3 small meals a day? I ended up staying at Linda's all night, and Mom of course is very suspicious of my activities. It's absolutely rediculous that a 44 y/o woman has to feel as paranoid as I did when I was 15 and trying to sneak out of the house to see my illicit much older, outlaw boyfriend back in 1980. So I'm in trouble financially again. Dunno what I'm gonna do.
I'm hooked on dope again. Dunno what I'm gonna do about that. As for the cyber sex, it was all fun, but I'll never have live sex with him or anyone else. I see this, the lust has been replaced with fear, and God help me I cannot go through another jail term. I'm in a shitload of trouble, I'm scared because I don't know what's gonna happen and I have this feeling that after the highs, soon something bad's gonna happen and I'd rather have no life than jail, constant poverty, or W/D's. Lord end my life, or get me the fuck out of this...
