a thought

I like sleep. It's rejuvenating and not just for the body either it's good for the soul too. Just thought you ought to know....

ramblings of sobriety

I had what most would consider a normal day. I woke up, went to school and work, came home, ate dinner and am now doing homework. I hate normal. The truth is all this sobriety is a bit overwhelming. I'm not accustomed to it and I don't know that I want to become accustomed to it. I have looked at where my drugs come from, but here's the deal - it's not like addicts are all going to stop using, so what difference does it make if one addict quits? Those who choose to manufacture such creations are still going to do it. Kids are still going to grow up in crime ridden neighborhoods, in houses with addicted parents. The world we live in sucks plain and simple. It sucked when our parents gave it to us, it sucked when their parents gave it to them. My point is (yes I have one) It's no wonder there are so many of us in the world with addictions, even legal ones. My brain hurts. I've been thinking like this all day. I think I'll just smoke a little bud and wander to bed...

Fact (and a little naivity)

I'm not sure I understand addiction and all the info that goes with it. I was reading an article at the doctor's office that dealt with the manufacturing and ingredients of meth. (I think I need to do research.) Growing up I swore that I would never put anything into my body if I wasn't aware of it's ingrediants. That went to hell in a handbasket. I had no clue of all the different shit that was used to cook up a batch of meth. My own naivity shows through here. I mean I always knew that it was bad for you, I always knew that it wasn't "society approved", but what the hell? I feel really stupid, how could I have not known that maufacturers of meth sometimes cook this shit up in the trunks of old cars, or in their basements with their kids upstairs (Hello, highly explosive) I guess it just never occured to me to look at where my drugs were coming from...

recovery

I didn't actually manage to get the license plate number of the truck that ran me over as I slept. I slept long and hard though in the dungeon that is my room. I woke up yesturday with just enough time to make it to class, even though my skull felt like it was splitting open. Thank God I didn't have to work! I oozed back into my apartment (I had become a puddle sometime throughout the day) and seeped into my couch. I didn't turn on the light, I didn't turn on the tv, I didn't do anything, but slip into a delicious state of unconciousness. I woke up sometime in the night with my stomach trying to eat it's way out of my body. I blinded myself with the kitchen light as I turned it on and rummaged through the cabinet in search of soda crackers and hey, bonus for me, I even found juice of the orange variety in the fridge (When had I bought that?). I settled into the couch and zoned on an old Audrey Hepburn flick My Fair Lady. Bast curled up in my lap. I don't know when I dosed off, but I woke up a bit ago, still hungary. So, I guess I'll leave you and wander to school, they have food.

unspeakable deeds

I sat in my living room having just finished work, relaxing. I opened my school bag and slid the books onto the table. (sounds responsible right?) The phone rang, this would prove to be my ultimate mistake. I answered the phone, it was seven o'clock. No, I wouldn't mind getting together with a few friends for some drinks, besides I could really use to go out. Nine o'clock is good, just enough time to do a bit of homework, have a meeting with the closet god and get out the door. I made it out the door on time and headed to one of my girlfriends houses, well actually it's an apartment but it doesn't matter. As I walked down the hall towards her door I could hear the thump of bass, for some reason this made me smile. I was overwhelmed by the smell of weed and incense as I walked in the door. I love that particular type of incense, sandlewood rose. I had barley gotten my cost off when one of the guys handed me a blunt. (A little weed doesn't hurt right?) I sat down inbetween two of my companions for the evening and proceeded to get stoned out of my gourd, it was great. More people arrived and the music played on. I don't know when we left the house for the bar, but we must have looked like a gang as we spilled from the apartment into the hallway, down the stairs, across the lawn to our cars. I hopped in with five others in this really sweet old Caddy and away we went. We must have stopped at least five different places for drinks and shots before we reached our final destination. (Is it just me or has anyone else just went out for a drink and ended up foobarred?) The club was packed when we finally arrived, but we managed to find enough places for all of us, though we were scattered out a bit it was nice as there were people to visit and even more to run into. Some of the guys went to get us drinks and us girls we hit the dance floor. I don't know why but there's just something about getting lost in music that I find incredibly appealing. We danced a few songs, fought our way back to the table, slammed a sot, took a few drinks and fought our way back out onto the dance floor, this time with guys in tow. I don't know if it was in the middle of the first song or the second when the guy dancing against me slid something into my hand. I knew the feel of it right away, it was a bullet. Not the kind you fire from a gun with either, it's a vile with a curved top that fits snuggly into your nose and yes it was filled with powder. A cheshire grin appeared on my face as I turned twords him and went down on him. (it's a bump and grind thing) The advantage this gave me was that I while I was down, no one could see me. The first rush was intense, the second and third just sent me into heaven. I swipped my nose swayed my hips back into a standing position, slid the bullet back into his hands and was met with a kiss. This would not have been a problem, but he belonged with one of the girls we were with. This was not good, and I enjoyed it way too much. What began as a innocent night ended up turning into a sordid affair, literally. At first I was like a kiss, no big deal. Then there where hands sliding along my thighs and his body pressed tightly against mine (have I mentioned how unfair I feel this all was, it was an assault on my senses, my very lonley senses.) A part of my brain was struggling for air, with all of the people we were with, surley someone has seen this and even the most naive people could feel the energy between us. The music ended, we broke apart, his fingertips brushing against my ass as he moved away. I fought my way back to the table, searching for my coat. All I knew was that I was hot and just wanted to feel the cool air against my wet skin. I slammed what was left of my drink and pushed my way past endless faces to the door. I'm not sure when or how I got back to my friends apartment (I'm glad it was her's and not mine), but that guy I had been dancing with was who opened the door. The group was considerably smaller, maybe ten people or so. The music was on, but this time it was quieter, though now it was a radio station. I was ushered to the table where I found these insane lines had been cut up. One was mine? But I didn't order this. It's a gift? That line has got to be at least a quarter gram, if you put it in a pile and weighed it. Don't look a gift horse in the mouth? Well, since you put it that way... I think this was possibly one of the moments I am least proud of, I inhaled...all of it. (though it took a couple tries) Remembering at this point is incredibly foggy as we were smoking a blunt too, I think in the end we smoked a few. I don't know when I ended up alone with my guy, but it happened and things happened. I do have to say though it was a lot of fun, especially when his girlfriend joined us... A few hours later we did some more lines...

regret

There are a lot of things I've done in this life time that I'm not proud of, last night was one of them. I was with friends and we (yes, I fell) were doin some tweak. (It felt so good to feel the surge as my body took in the powder) Truley it all started out as an innocent evening with friends. A few lines, a trip to the bar (a few joints along the way) and home to my bed, or so I thought...

A new day

I ended my day as I haven't in a long time (semi-sober, I was smokin some weed but that's it). The truth is that not doing drugs is harder than it seems it should be. I sit in class or at work and all I really want to be doing is getting high. Life seems so much easier when I'm high. Right now I struggle to get everything done in a day. I sit here having been to all of my classes yesturday and having been to work last night. I needed to get high, I felt like I was going to explode if I didn't get some teak. I lived, I didn't give in, but I wanted to, I still want to. I don't want to struggle with all of the burdens that I've placed on myself. School work needs to be done, bills need to be paid and in moments I don't care if either happens. I want to stay clean, but I need my fix. I need to know that I can get everything done in a day I need to and without tweak there dosen't seem to be enough time. There's never enough time...

a new idea

I can't keep doing this to myself. I can't keep striving to better myself and yet (I'm begining think I am an addict, I beginging to think my friends(?) were right) I keep falling down. I sit here smoking a couple of hitters of weed, quite content to not be tweaking, to not be trippin, to not be fucked up (well at least not drug wise) beyond reason or comprehension. Before I hit the bathroom wall I couldn't even achieve an hour or two without a line, I am doing better. I'm trying to keep my use of heavy drugs (powders, liquids etc etc) to my time, not when I need to go to work (this is a drag as powders made work go by way faster than it goes by now) or when I need to go to class. This is my newest idea, I am attempting responsibility. We'll see how it goes...

a rough morning...well day

Sleep was blissful in its tranquillity... I awoke to a new day, I snuggled with my cat and did the stupidist thing I could think of. I stood up. My entire world began to spin out of control. I sat back down. (I'm not totally stupid, I know black spots mean to sit down) I held my head in my hands and seriously contemplated simply passing out, but I could never get off that easy. The back of my head, right at the base where your neck and skull attach, began to ache. The dull throb spread like fingertips toward my forehead, my scalp tingling as they went... a deep and forboding sense of nausea began to creep into my already overwhelmed senses. I wanted to die and not video game, get to try again die, but die, dead, never comin' back, passing into the summerland kinda dead, ya know? I managed to crawl (I have rug burn to prove it) to the bathroom. There I sat and dry heaved (I can't remember the last thing I ate) until my ribs began to ache with every lurch. I laid down and I cried. (This only made the headache worse) After picking myself up and actually onto my feet, I shuffled down the hallway. I searched the cupboard for the cure all to all stomach ails, soda crackers. Then I opened up the fridge and upon looking (I had to admire the glow) decided an extremely cold glass of water would be great. I padded to the couch, turned on the tv, slowly munched some soda crackers, sipped some water (decided to let it warm up a bit, as it made me queezy), took a darvaset and faded in and out watching tv for most of the day...I missed class...I called in sick to work...this is not good.

A very long day

I discovered many things over the past day or so. The biggest was how much dirt had accumulated in my appartment. A bit after my last post a friend stopped in, it was good. The problem began from there as I turned (now completley wide awake) and stared at my home. I found facing me the havok of the past three weeks, complete with half empty boxes of lo mein. (Mind you this is about all my stomach was willing to handle) It was disgusting...I found dirt I didn't think could possibly exist. I began by simply picking things up (no biggie right...) I'm not sure what exactly the first distraction was, but I do recall the bathroom taking about two hours to complete. (It's not that big) I vividly recall staring at the floor with a toothbrush (in places) in hand, going around the toilet and anything else that could be gone around. By the time it was all complete it was so bright it hurt the eyes to look at it. When I was finally done there my attention turned back to the project of trash collection. This lead me to the dimise of my loving room, just looking at it hurt. There were blankets crumpled up on the couch, this lead me to start to fold them, which lead to picking up the cusions, which ultimatly lead to me pulling out the vacuum... (This may sound like a normal day of cleaning, but one must remember that something as simple as a single cat hair will create an ultimate obsession with all of the hair in the house.) I vacummed the living room floor on my hands and knees. Then I moved the furniture...all of it. Somewhere, somehow I became distracted by the kitchen. ( I still haven't finished the living room yet) There was yuck and more yuck. (I think it just may have seemed this way to me) I drew a hot sinkful of suddsy water and plunged my hands in, got distracted by the bubbles for a bit (It was awhile, but it wasn't like I was looking at a clock) and then remembered the task at hand. The dishes, but oh look a ketchup bottle that needs to go in the fridge... The fridge, I think there may have been things in there that had reached the point of taking up residence and hey look, that shelf could really use to be wiped down. I put the ketchup back onto the counter and begin emptying the shelves, and then the door and hey look below the drawer is a cat hair (have I mentioned my black fluffball I have aquired named Bast?) I can't begin to count the minutes spent in the depts of the fridge. Though shortly after I got it back together I discovered the freezer and well, you can guess how that went. By the time all was said and done I discovered my sink had no more bubbles and was cold. Only one thing to do, empty it and fill it again. Oh and yes I got distracted by the bubbles once again... Then I did the dishes and got distracted again with the filling of the third sinkful of dishes. After the washing and the drying and the putting away I started to wipe down the counters, where guess what I found? Yeap, hair. Have I mentioned my obssesed hatred with hair? Everything was moved, everything wiped down. The floor was completed on hands and knees. I even pulled everything out of the cupboards and wiped the insides down. I completed the kitchen. Which lead to finishing the living room and my bedroom. I think it was about half way through my bedroom when I realized that I needed to be to work in a little less than an hour. Enough time to get ready (add in clothing stress) and fly out the door to work. Oh and don't forget the lines I did on the way out the door. Work was, well work. I stocked, I checked, I acted as sober as possible when 'on the floor'. I came home, relished in the warmth and wetness of a shower, smoked this joint that I had rolled sometime well on cigarette/weed/line break the night before, sat down before my screen and decided to share my very much longer than I had ever intended day. (and yes I skipped a lot, but those are other tales for other times) I will say that a soft pillow and the warmth of my blankets sounds so very delicious...

lost (well, I was)

I got lost...as a matter of fact I just (literally) crawled in the door. I often forget how tweaking really makes time go by at an unusually rapid pace. I also forget how often, when I don't have a screaming responsibility (work, school), I lose myself into my own little world. It's a really good thing that I have friends to help me home and drop me off on my doorstep. Really these last two days are an intreaguing tale, that will have to wait until I become coherent again...which may be a day or two as the last day was longer than it may have appeared. (and it didn't even come with a warning label: Warning this day may be longer than it should be...why can't life come with warning labels?)

can't do this

I can't do this, I'm exhausted. I was up late, really late. I worked really early. Needless to say even with a few bumps work was longer than it should have been... Can you really see pink elephants if you've been up to long?

staring out my window (sorta)

I managed to get a bit of sleep last night, but my morning bump set me about my day quite nicely. I got up, went to work, got off about three. Met up with some friends, did a few lines along the path to tonight. So here I sit, once again staring out the window... I wonder if I'll live like this forever, I hope I do. Then again there's a part of me that hope's I don't. I don't know I'm lost. Lost within myself were it seems no one can find me, where no one cares to find me. I want so many things and I can't schieve any of them... I used to dream, but latley the dreams have stopped coming. I was supposed to be starting this great adventure (life on my own) and I have nothing... nobody... I can't even manage to keep plants alive... Why do I do this to myself? What fun is it to become a prisoner of your own mind? I should have stayed with my friends, I should have just stayed all night long as don't know how long this high is going to last... This is what I get for trying to be responsible...

wading through

Here's the deal, I like to be high. I like to be high so much that I stopped by my dealer's on the way to work today. (only a few lines and never while actually at work) Mind you I work in a department store, in a department all by myself. The great thing about this is that my boss loves me to death because of all the shit that I get done in a shift. I love it because hardly anyone shops in the Home Fashions department very much. On a busy night I get maybe three customer's. (and they usually don't have anything from my department) Otherwise I pass the time blissfully putting together displays and stocking shelves. Added bonus is that they work around my school schedule. I think I've come to the conclusion that one must be a productive addict, just dangle your feet off the end of the dock into the water kind of thing. Maybe wading on occasion, but never actually diving in and going under. I don't really miss the constant fog it seems that I have been walking through for so long, but I'm not able, not willing to completley let go...

another day

I am pleased to report that the mirror laid untouched for a time yesterday, though not all day. I stayed up late, but not all night and I tried to remember to eat something besides the toast. It was a good day, I wasn't so out of it that I only half heard what was going on around me because of the stuppor that I was in. I needed enough to help me function, to help me think.

the next morning (well, for me)

I think that I have slept for to long...I dosed off shortly after my last post. I woke up about an hour ago. Don't ask me the time, it would require actually being able to comprehend a clock. Not that you want to know, but I showered (I think I forget how good the water feels...) actually ate breakfast (well, toast anyway) and managed to keep it all down. (thank god for weed, it quells the nausea) I live in a different world when my body is 'clean', I think in different patterns (none of which make sense to anyone but me I'm sure) it's strange. I sit with a cup of steaming Earl Grey (honey and lemon, yummm) looking over my computer, wondering about the things I choose to do to myself. Knowing the sweet alure, the tantalizing tingle of excitement at the thought of picking up my mirror. (I know there's enough to get high, I've already cut it. It's amazing what you find when everyone leaves) But I wonder why I think I need this seduction...

ramblings of an insomniac (of sorts)

No one will ever understand that I need my release. How am I supposed to fit everything in, in only twenty-four hours? Work, school and play, I need to play it's what keeps me going. Either that or it's what calms me down. I don't know. Maybe I should eat, maybe I should sleep. I know there are people out there who don't live like this. People tell me that I shouldn't live like this... But if they knew how much it hurts both physically and emotionally to stop. I'm finally happy with myself, in a way. People used to stare and make fun of me because I was fat. Now it seems I suffer an almost equal taunting because I'm too skinny, my skin has erupted with holes and breakouts. My friends used to ask what diet plan I was on. You should have seen their faces when I told them I was doing it on my own. I never said it was healthy and no I'm probably not technically doing this on my own. But I can finally go shopping in any section of a store that I want, I've never been able to do that before. I always had to go to 'special' stores for fat people. I'm tired of lying to my parents, but they'll never understand. Maybe I'll just curl up in the corner and die (truth is I am out of everything except a few joints all of my other junk has been consumed into the depths of my body). My mind tweeks at that thought, but I'm not a junkie, I can stop doing powders (Angel Dust, Coke, Glass...never touched Heroin)... I quit drinking, (a shot would be nice right now though) I quit trippin', (shrooms and acid) (God I miss that, well the good trips anyway) I don't take buttons anymore, though I do still smoke pot. I quit powders once already, It won't be that big of a deal and who says I have to quit?

I've seen the sun rise to many times in the days that have passed. I can't think or maybe I think to much. Thoughts run through my head in endless streams. I can't seem to stop them. My mom called last night, I made the same excuses I have been making for months when she asks why my grades are slipping and why I don't sound 'normal'.

a quick drop in

I cant begin to express the tiem that I have been haivng. Its been a long day or two... how long has it been? oh well I finally made it home and I thought that I would drop a quick line to well, me I guess... ooohhhh the door, yeah!!!!!!!

good company

One of my girls stopped by to see me today. We sat around doin lines and just shootin the shit about life and how much people suck. It felt good to laugh, to be in the company of a real friend. I shared with her the tale of going out and she agreed that I don't need people who are just going to criticise everything I do and the choices I make. She invited me to go to a party with her tonight, and I think I'll go. I often forget how good it can feel to be in the company of people who accept who you are and the things that you do...

a different kind of night

I did something tonight I haven't done in a long time. I went out. Out to the bar with a group of friends. I could see their side glances at me, them whispering behind my back. Talking about how much I've gone down hill, how terrible I look. They have no clue, no idea about what I do. They offer their judgements of me, without trying to see that I am ok, I am happy. Just because I don't conform to their world of what's right and what's wrong. What's the difference between them going out every night and getting totally sloshed and me doing Meth? It's my drug of choice...

I left the bar feeling hurt and a bit disgruntled. These people that I had viewed as my friends are just hyppocrites. Mean and vindictive hippocrites, they sit on the side and make judgements about things they don't understand... They don't even have the common courtsey to talk about me when I'm not there. They think the noise will cover what they say... This only confirms my suspicions that they are trying to change me, who I am because they think what I do is wrong. They know nothing, they don't know how good I finally feel about myself. Meth allows me the ability to forget, the things I've done, the choices I've made, the person that I have become. I like to forget, I like not having to feel...to not have to care about anyone, or anything