5/26/2009
Am feeling like a complete fucking idiot after what happened and quite numb. I was totally hustled and fucked out of a large chuck of $ (by my standards) and what gets me is that I gave those smack heads $15 to go buy smack. It’s never enough. The greed, never ending need, unfuckingbelievable. As I said before though, I don’t care what their story is, but fucking Don goes and gives $60 for a dime bag so he can supposedly go “reup?” Whatever. Granted, Don did spend 8 and a ½ fucking hrs waiting for the fool in the barrio, trying to call too, but the point is, “Dude if all he said he had was a 20, then just take the 20, give me the 20 bag, but DON’T give him all my goddamned money, I’m pissed, this is bullshit, even if Don is telling the truth, I can’t believe someone is THAT damn dumb.
Had I not been on the damn acid, I’d have NOT found any humor in the situation at all, but again, this is it. No more giving them $10-20 for them 2 take care of me, then STILL get fucked dry….shakes head, sighs. I NEVER had this horseshit go down when I did my own business, NEVER. Yet, I still find myself getting ripped off, making dumb decisions because I’m high, (my weak point) which in the past was always why I’d score directly from whoever, and most of the time head straight to my pad to party. Alone. That way none of this shit ever happened, unless I planned on company and wanted it, but whatever. Am not happy bout being out of $70 and only a $10 bag I got out of it. My fault, but lucky me, get to go through these fucked up W/D’s, thanks guys after spending $ for nothing almost.
This means forced sobriety off meth, or otherwise, sometimes Linda who is actually honest will front me a $20 if she has it, so when I get off work some Tuesdays, she has it ready for me. Aimee and Don, fucking get screwed into an 8 hr wait, as I told Don, “Dude how many fuckin times I told u, do NOT even bother if it’s gonna take til the 2nd coming! Again, whatever. Am very disappointed in those 2 scandalous fuckers, but I did give my problem some thought. Fuck these assholes, I’ll just make an appointment with my Dr., she can see that I’m still 50 or 60 lbs overweight, yes even though all the junkie men tell me I’m very beautiful now in spite of the extra weight because I did drop about 50 lbs, and can wear pretty clothes.
It’s even some normie males that I get attention from walking down the street these days when I dress nice. I’m flattered and happy about that. Brendan LOVES how I look, even better than when I was a respectable size 8. To each his own, but the point is that the doc has a clear record of this God awful obesity over the past 2 and ½ years once I kicked all dope the first time for that amount of time. She was concerned that my B/P was too high when I was clean and 100 lbs obese, but since taking the water pills she gave me, the high B/P is gone. Obviously if I’m not doing shit, it won’t be high at this weight, sooooo seeing as how it’s disgustingly easy to gain 10 lbs in 10 days, I can schedule a doc visit, tell the doc I need help losing weight, maybe she’ll right me an Rx for phentermine.
Even if it’s only 30 pills at a time every 4-6 months, it will help keep me from turning back into a beached fucking whale, good Christ. I’m 80% sure she would Rx me seeing as how I have an obvious need for them, it’s not like I’m some poor malnourished bitch from the Gestapo Camp Heil fucking Hitler, as Lord knows I have plenty of visable lard to spare……so perhaps no more meth, but tone it down to plain amphetamine every so often to lose weight…..legally….and besides actually doing it for a legit medical purpose…..I can just casually tell everyone with a polite smile to go fuck themselves and their scandalous deals can be shoved far up their constipated smack infested assholes…..I’m done. Dunno if they did or didn’t fuck me, will never know, but I will only deal with Linda, if at all anymore and no more than a 20….or I’ll take nothing.
Another forced 12 days or more off speed….the lesser, weaker Rx amphetamine will still work for me and do the trick, only without me getting ripped off, and without this whole sadness going down with my Mom as well. I was sad too, when I got a message from my old sponsor on my space, saying she will always love me no matter what, and she will. Sadly, I’m going to have to email telling her I love her back, but as she most likely guessed by now, I relapsed on Rx painkillers a couple months back. I see no reason to go into any more detail, as that is quite enough, but I cannot go on ignoring her, as I’m not a cruel person. Her heart will be broken, she will cry when she reads the email, but real friends deserve honesty and I will have to write her “there is nothing more you could have done to help me, so please don’t EVER feel that way. It’s like NA says, that addiction is a very clever, patient disease so to speak that did a hell of a job weaseling it’s way right back into my veins.
The Tramadol was too brutal for me to kick when being forced to have to deal with patients, it was HORRIBLE because I felt like crap for months, so eventually I said fuck it, went back to my real painkillers, just to be able to tolerate an easier kick, eventually, if at all. It’s VERY difficult too, as kicking now at 44 is A LOT harder than it was kicking at age 30, and even THAT was no picnic, but it gets soo much harder…If I could take time off work without suffering loss of income, which I would, that would be different, but that’s NOT the case, and I allowed my addiction to weasel it’s way right back into my life, DAMN that was clever how it did that. Mom and family are all ready aware of me breaking my sobriety with the pain pills, of course, in fact, Mom broken hearted said that there were some people that did have to take pills the rest of their lives, and while it makes her sad, she realizes that it is doable.
I do hope that I manage to reduce the intake by 2/3s for good, and hell even at my current high dose of pills now, aside from taking them for legitimate pain….it would act as an opiate replacement therapy, just like some people take Methadone. Am hoping too, that with the Rx phentermine, assuming she says ok, same thing. The dope will be legal, managed, and used for legit legal, medical issues as well. So, that’s my plan. I won’t go into it expecting that she will write the diet pills every so often, but there’s a good chance she might seeing as how she had been willing to before had my B/P been stable. Who the fuck knows, perhaps I might have another stretch of sobriety in the future, never say never. At this point, I would be QUITE happy with a month supply of diet pills every 12-16 wks to manage my weight. Off meth for 12 days, it was hard, but I did limit my meals to every 12 hrs, and no huge portions, though it aggravates me like hell how difficult that was. Sigh. I fucking don’t even want to be bothered with work today, my feelings are hurt, I hate lying to my Mom, and in the long run, quitting meth would be better for me anyway, even if I took a lesser, legal drug. I am so sad things happened the way they did. I feel betrayed, but I also feel a knife in my heart every time I have to deal with Mom over this meth business. Meth head Susie once told me I wasn’t the “scandalous” type. Aimee got upset with me for referring to myself as a “hooker” when I worked the streets for a short time or the escort agencies to pay for drugs.
“You have a HUGE heart, Tanya,” Aimee told me. “I’ve been in prison many years and a hooker to me is someone that will take someone’s every last dime, nickel, and penny for a hit of crack…YOU ARE NOT LIKE THAT AND YOU NEVER WERE!” I didn’t think of it that way, only as an honest way to make money instead of ripping people off, or even selling drugs (that never lasted long.) I love that Aimee can love me, talk to me that way, not even Mom cannot. When I’m using, all she see’s is a person that feels crappy going through W/D’s wanting to be left alone. Sigh. True, but around other addicts, they see my sweet side too, that the chemicals bring out, not just the sickness. When I am high around others that don’t use, I do whatever I can to keep that shit to myself, out of self preservation and to avoid observations/questions…..part of the effort required living a double life. Sad smile. I’m trying to heal my emotional damage. I’m really NOT a cold, mean, person….but I doubt most non addicts can ever really understand that….I’m trying to heal though…sometimes I can even help others, usually strangers with kind words perhaps, or insight, or listening without judgment to soooo many confessions of other’s psychic wounds…..especially at night, those that are under my care often times tell way more than they ever thought they would….I don’t always have answers, but I try to listen without judgment…..
So that’s it for now about me and my demons. The older I get, the more it seems I don’t know….but in my experience, it appears to me that everyone has varying degrees of some forms of mental illness, whatever form they might take…
Am feeling like a complete fucking idiot after what happened and quite numb. I was totally hustled and fucked out of a large chuck of $ (by my standards) and what gets me is that I gave those smack heads $15 to go buy smack. It’s never enough. The greed, never ending need, unfuckingbelievable. As I said before though, I don’t care what their story is, but fucking Don goes and gives $60 for a dime bag so he can supposedly go “reup?” Whatever. Granted, Don did spend 8 and a ½ fucking hrs waiting for the fool in the barrio, trying to call too, but the point is, “Dude if all he said he had was a 20, then just take the 20, give me the 20 bag, but DON’T give him all my goddamned money, I’m pissed, this is bullshit, even if Don is telling the truth, I can’t believe someone is THAT damn dumb.
Had I not been on the damn acid, I’d have NOT found any humor in the situation at all, but again, this is it. No more giving them $10-20 for them 2 take care of me, then STILL get fucked dry….shakes head, sighs. I NEVER had this horseshit go down when I did my own business, NEVER. Yet, I still find myself getting ripped off, making dumb decisions because I’m high, (my weak point) which in the past was always why I’d score directly from whoever, and most of the time head straight to my pad to party. Alone. That way none of this shit ever happened, unless I planned on company and wanted it, but whatever. Am not happy bout being out of $70 and only a $10 bag I got out of it. My fault, but lucky me, get to go through these fucked up W/D’s, thanks guys after spending $ for nothing almost.
This means forced sobriety off meth, or otherwise, sometimes Linda who is actually honest will front me a $20 if she has it, so when I get off work some Tuesdays, she has it ready for me. Aimee and Don, fucking get screwed into an 8 hr wait, as I told Don, “Dude how many fuckin times I told u, do NOT even bother if it’s gonna take til the 2nd coming! Again, whatever. Am very disappointed in those 2 scandalous fuckers, but I did give my problem some thought. Fuck these assholes, I’ll just make an appointment with my Dr., she can see that I’m still 50 or 60 lbs overweight, yes even though all the junkie men tell me I’m very beautiful now in spite of the extra weight because I did drop about 50 lbs, and can wear pretty clothes.
It’s even some normie males that I get attention from walking down the street these days when I dress nice. I’m flattered and happy about that. Brendan LOVES how I look, even better than when I was a respectable size 8. To each his own, but the point is that the doc has a clear record of this God awful obesity over the past 2 and ½ years once I kicked all dope the first time for that amount of time. She was concerned that my B/P was too high when I was clean and 100 lbs obese, but since taking the water pills she gave me, the high B/P is gone. Obviously if I’m not doing shit, it won’t be high at this weight, sooooo seeing as how it’s disgustingly easy to gain 10 lbs in 10 days, I can schedule a doc visit, tell the doc I need help losing weight, maybe she’ll right me an Rx for phentermine.
Even if it’s only 30 pills at a time every 4-6 months, it will help keep me from turning back into a beached fucking whale, good Christ. I’m 80% sure she would Rx me seeing as how I have an obvious need for them, it’s not like I’m some poor malnourished bitch from the Gestapo Camp Heil fucking Hitler, as Lord knows I have plenty of visable lard to spare……so perhaps no more meth, but tone it down to plain amphetamine every so often to lose weight…..legally….and besides actually doing it for a legit medical purpose…..I can just casually tell everyone with a polite smile to go fuck themselves and their scandalous deals can be shoved far up their constipated smack infested assholes…..I’m done. Dunno if they did or didn’t fuck me, will never know, but I will only deal with Linda, if at all anymore and no more than a 20….or I’ll take nothing.
Another forced 12 days or more off speed….the lesser, weaker Rx amphetamine will still work for me and do the trick, only without me getting ripped off, and without this whole sadness going down with my Mom as well. I was sad too, when I got a message from my old sponsor on my space, saying she will always love me no matter what, and she will. Sadly, I’m going to have to email telling her I love her back, but as she most likely guessed by now, I relapsed on Rx painkillers a couple months back. I see no reason to go into any more detail, as that is quite enough, but I cannot go on ignoring her, as I’m not a cruel person. Her heart will be broken, she will cry when she reads the email, but real friends deserve honesty and I will have to write her “there is nothing more you could have done to help me, so please don’t EVER feel that way. It’s like NA says, that addiction is a very clever, patient disease so to speak that did a hell of a job weaseling it’s way right back into my veins.
The Tramadol was too brutal for me to kick when being forced to have to deal with patients, it was HORRIBLE because I felt like crap for months, so eventually I said fuck it, went back to my real painkillers, just to be able to tolerate an easier kick, eventually, if at all. It’s VERY difficult too, as kicking now at 44 is A LOT harder than it was kicking at age 30, and even THAT was no picnic, but it gets soo much harder…If I could take time off work without suffering loss of income, which I would, that would be different, but that’s NOT the case, and I allowed my addiction to weasel it’s way right back into my life, DAMN that was clever how it did that. Mom and family are all ready aware of me breaking my sobriety with the pain pills, of course, in fact, Mom broken hearted said that there were some people that did have to take pills the rest of their lives, and while it makes her sad, she realizes that it is doable.
I do hope that I manage to reduce the intake by 2/3s for good, and hell even at my current high dose of pills now, aside from taking them for legitimate pain….it would act as an opiate replacement therapy, just like some people take Methadone. Am hoping too, that with the Rx phentermine, assuming she says ok, same thing. The dope will be legal, managed, and used for legit legal, medical issues as well. So, that’s my plan. I won’t go into it expecting that she will write the diet pills every so often, but there’s a good chance she might seeing as how she had been willing to before had my B/P been stable. Who the fuck knows, perhaps I might have another stretch of sobriety in the future, never say never. At this point, I would be QUITE happy with a month supply of diet pills every 12-16 wks to manage my weight. Off meth for 12 days, it was hard, but I did limit my meals to every 12 hrs, and no huge portions, though it aggravates me like hell how difficult that was. Sigh. I fucking don’t even want to be bothered with work today, my feelings are hurt, I hate lying to my Mom, and in the long run, quitting meth would be better for me anyway, even if I took a lesser, legal drug. I am so sad things happened the way they did. I feel betrayed, but I also feel a knife in my heart every time I have to deal with Mom over this meth business. Meth head Susie once told me I wasn’t the “scandalous” type. Aimee got upset with me for referring to myself as a “hooker” when I worked the streets for a short time or the escort agencies to pay for drugs.
“You have a HUGE heart, Tanya,” Aimee told me. “I’ve been in prison many years and a hooker to me is someone that will take someone’s every last dime, nickel, and penny for a hit of crack…YOU ARE NOT LIKE THAT AND YOU NEVER WERE!” I didn’t think of it that way, only as an honest way to make money instead of ripping people off, or even selling drugs (that never lasted long.) I love that Aimee can love me, talk to me that way, not even Mom cannot. When I’m using, all she see’s is a person that feels crappy going through W/D’s wanting to be left alone. Sigh. True, but around other addicts, they see my sweet side too, that the chemicals bring out, not just the sickness. When I am high around others that don’t use, I do whatever I can to keep that shit to myself, out of self preservation and to avoid observations/questions…..part of the effort required living a double life. Sad smile. I’m trying to heal my emotional damage. I’m really NOT a cold, mean, person….but I doubt most non addicts can ever really understand that….I’m trying to heal though…sometimes I can even help others, usually strangers with kind words perhaps, or insight, or listening without judgment to soooo many confessions of other’s psychic wounds…..especially at night, those that are under my care often times tell way more than they ever thought they would….I don’t always have answers, but I try to listen without judgment…..
So that’s it for now about me and my demons. The older I get, the more it seems I don’t know….but in my experience, it appears to me that everyone has varying degrees of some forms of mental illness, whatever form they might take…