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Vent/Rant Thread vs 3 (Triggering Content)

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i kind of hate my suboxone doc for rx'ing me adderall

i called her during lunch break, told her i don't suffer from ADD, but said i think they would help complete me

she just upped my dose from 10mg to 30mg in 22 days

when i use them somewhat responsible, they really are miracle workers,but i just don't have the control to have a full rx on me

sure i can have someone hold them for me , but i cant? why? cause i can't

when i abuse them, it's not like i completely lose my mind, or put my self in dangerous situations, but it totally has me by the balls

this is my first post in TDS(maybe 2nd or 3rd), you know whyy?

cause i'm so freakin sleep deprived and tweeked out, making me act out of character....acting out of chacter is actually what makes me like them so much, usually it turns me into the person that i THINK i want to be

/rant
/rant,NOW
 
why i have trouble thinking of my photographs as art, in 25 words or less

my first week of elementary school was pushed back a little bit because there was a teacher's strike, so it was kind of close to xgiving. in our first art class we were drawing our first grade versions of cornucopias. i colored in my grapes purple. the result is that my art teacher (mrs hanke was her name) SCREAMED at me. GRAPES AREN'T PURPLE. THEY ARE RED OR GREEN. THERE ARE NO PURPLE GRAPES AND ONLY SOMEONE THAT WAS STUPID WOULD COLOR GRAPES PURPLE. ever since then whenever i even think of being artistic i freeze up.

jesus christ, what a fucking bitch. what kind of a warped asshole does something like that to a little kid? i am crying now thinking about it and it was more than 30 years ago. and my elementary school career was FULL of SHIT LIKE THAT. FUCKING GODDAMNED BULLY ASSHOLES WITH NOTHING BETTER TO DO IN THEIR PUNY MEANINGLESS LIVES THAN CRUSH A BEAUTIFUL, SWEET LITTLE KID'S SPIRIT. JESUS GOD MY CHILDHOOD WAS FULL OF ASSHOLE BULLY ADULTS SCREAMING AT ME. FUCK.

even though he never met me harry chapin wrote this song and i swear to all that is good and light and beautiful in the world that he wrote it for me.

flowers are red - harry chapin

so nowadays when someone tells me that my fotos are art and that they are touched by them it makes me feel so goddamned good it's unbelievable. but sometimes, just for a minute, it makes me think FUCK YOU MRS HANKE. FUCK YOU SO MUCH. FUCK FUCK FUCK. i wish i could go back to being that little 6 year old kid and saying FUCK YOU I WILL COLOR MY GRAPES PURPLE IF I FUCKING WANT TO. BITCH.
 
jesus god fuck her so much. i forgive her. i have no time or place in my life or heart for hate, but still, fuck you. how dare you do that to me or any other little kid. how fucking dare you. i hope you stub your toe right now if you're still alive.
 
and i remember every one of your goddamned names. every one of you that went out of your way to crush my spirit. i know that none of you remember me. i don't care. i forgive you all. i pity you for whatever happened to you that the only way youknew to get your jollies was to bully and humiliate a defenseless little kid. i forgive you all but i reserve the right to periodically say FUCK YOU.
 
GRAPES AREN'T PURPLE. THEY ARE RED OR GREEN. THERE ARE NO PURPLE GRAPES AND ONLY SOMEONE THAT WAS STUPID WOULD COLOR GRAPES PURPLE
Click to expand...

LOLWUT? You're kidding me? So, not only was she a screaming bitch she was colourblind too? And she taught art? How did that work? What colour did she insist you do grass in, blue or something? :\ I can't get the exact shade here but 'red' grapes I buy are fucking purple mate. Or green. Never, ever seen a red one in my life!? What a remarkable human being. 8)
 
michael said:
why i have trouble thinking of my photographs as art, in 25 words or less

my first week of elementary school was pushed back a little bit because there was a teacher's strike, so it was kind of close to xgiving. in our first art class we were drawing our first grade versions of cornucopias. i colored in my grapes purple. the result is that my art teacher (mrs hanke was her name) SCREAMED at me. GRAPES AREN'T PURPLE. THEY ARE RED OR GREEN. THERE ARE NO PURPLE GRAPES AND ONLY SOMEONE THAT WAS STUPID WOULD COLOR GRAPES PURPLE. ever since then whenever i even think of being artistic i freeze up.

jesus christ, what a fucking bitch. what kind of a warped asshole does something like that to a little kid? i am crying now thinking about it and it was more than 30 years ago. and my elementary school career was FULL of SHIT LIKE THAT. FUCKING GODDAMNED BULLY ASSHOLES WITH NOTHING BETTER TO DO IN THEIR PUNY MEANINGLESS LIVES THAN CRUSH A BEAUTIFUL, SWEET LITTLE KID'S SPIRIT. JESUS GOD MY CHILDHOOD WAS FULL OF ASSHOLE BULLY ADULTS SCREAMING AT ME. FUCK.

even though he never met me harry chapin wrote this song and i swear to all that is good and light and beautiful in the world that he wrote it for me.

flowers are red - harry chapin

so nowadays when someone tells me that my fotos are art and that they are touched by them it makes me feel so goddamned good it's unbelievable. but sometimes, just for a minute, it makes me think FUCK YOU MRS HANKE. FUCK YOU SO MUCH. FUCK FUCK FUCK. i wish i could go back to being that little 6 year old kid and saying FUCK YOU I WILL COLOR MY GRAPES PURPLE IF I FUCKING WANT TO. BITCH.
Click to expand...

Fuck 'em is right, Michael. Your photos are art. I had the same exact experience only it was a tree. Amazingly enough it was also second grade. I was so shy back then that I would cry if anybody even looked at me too long. It was a new school, a new part of the country and I barely even lifted my head up. All the kids made fun of my northern accent and the one world I trusted was the world of art. I loved it and it loved me back and all the sudden here is this old lady saying in front of the whole class that I needed to start over with a new coloring page because instead of a green tree with brown bark on the trunk and red apples in it, I had colored it all my favorite colors out of the 64-crayon crayon box that was just about the only bribe that got me to even go to school in the first place.

Maybe that is why I became an art teacher, so that I could say to every kid that takes a risk and explores and pleases him/herself in the process, "wow! look what you did! You rock!" The most important thing I say to my students is what I still say to myself every day as an artist: that negative overly critical voice is art's enemy and your enemy, too. Art is not the finished product. Art is the risk and the diligence and the result is sometimes shit and sometimes fantastic.

Forgiving them and not carrying around those fatal voices is the healthiest thing you can do. Bravo!
 
a friend of a friend on facebook got yelled at by her art teacher for coloring flowers on trees pink. a little while after that she moved somewhere where cherry trees were in bloom. what the fuck is wrong with these people? how dead do you need to be inside to not realize the beauty in an orchard of cherry trees in full bloom? have you never seen a goddamned magnolia or apple tree in bloom? i will never understand how someone so blind to the things around them would sentence themselves to decades as an art teacher.
 
^^ whos world is this, mine thats who, I'm colouring it, if you want green trees look outside or color your own..

Location..?? has to be a LOS (leftover salmon) quote.. good friend of mine is playing with Vince in GAT:)

Fuckn hate that after quiting all the drugs and feeling great now i STILL have to do it all over again when I QUIT cigs... I FKN HATE CIGS< HAVE FOR EVER NOW
 
I feel so sick. How did I let everything pile up like this? I overextended myself in school and work and am fucking both up terribly.

I miss my beluga. I wish he wasn't insane.

I wish my eye would stop twitching, sometime this week.

I wish I hadn't smoked all my speed so speedily.
 
If it ain't one goddamn drug problem it's another... I quit bupe just over a month ago and now I'm fiending for Xanax like a madman...

And of course that changes the rules of the game... You tell a guy you want $600 worth of roxies and he'll (usually) be there in a fucking flash-- tell em you just need about ten Xanax bars to help you deal with opiate PAWS and all of a sudden the motherfucker develops dementia and loses his watch while I'm sitting here trying not to tear my fucking hair out...

I think the acute withdrawal with all the puking and shitting and akathisia was easier to deal with than this shit... My god when will this end...
 
I don't know what's wrong with me. It's like I can't stop doing things that I know will hurt me. I'm not even talking about drugs, just in general, every fucking thing I do is self-destructive, and I know it when I do it but I fucking do it anyway. WHY do I have this sick fucking compulsion to hurt myself?! What the fuck is wrong with me? I hate this. I hate this so much.
 
i made fun of a girl at work for having had an eating disorder.
i threw up breakfast because i thought I looked fat in the mirror while brushing my death.
i am a terrible person. but everyone thinks I am good and nice. it is just a matter of time before I fail people and they hate me.
 
It's like every time I go on a run I end up doing more and more damage to myself. I'm just puzzled at the why?

Why the fuck do I continue to do this? It hasn't been fun in a long long time, I'm a miserable person surrounded by miserable people, but no amount of pain removes this desire to push the envelope FURTHER.

I'm... :\
 
is it "doctor shopping" to try to find a psychiatrist who is open to giving me a higher dose of meds when needed when my current one has claimed he will never up them?
he has this typical middle eastern man talking to a woman thing going on. i told him i got a job, and he was like "this is the way society works. you take care of yourself. you have a job". what the fuck, yes all of my lifes problems are solved because i managed to land some shitty J O B (not career. not something i like. not something that will benefit me psychologically but worsen things)
like i don't know that, motherfucker? why the fuck do you think i am here? who the fuck does he think he is? these rinky dink dime a dozen medicaid welfare psychs dont listen to a damn word you say. it's "go to the hospital if you feel suicidal and don't sell your pills" and out the door. plus when i told him to down my paxil because i couldn't have sex on it i reallly doubt he needed to clarify that i can't orgasm, what the fuck did he think i meant? i lost the ability to have sex? i forgot how? i think he just wanted to hear me say it. or maybe he's just so gross it felt dirty.
in any case it's a real shame the hot psych i was infatuated with works at another place and thinks i'm a drug seeker. it's actually pretty relieving though because i'm guessing all of his patients are in love with him and it's pretty fucking embarrassing, because you know. rich doctor. crazy lady. don't think it would work out ;)
 
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