Wednesday, December 31, 2008

I'm Volenteering at the Humane Society

Okay, its true Anonymous got to me. I am a lazy fuck up, and a drain on society. All these things I embrace about myself. All these things I like about myself. Then again, I have alot of free time, and instead of reading, or blogging all day, I could use my time to do some good. I hate people, so volunteering with people was out of the question. So I called the Human Society by the Airport and asked if they need any volunteers. They said yes, but not at that particular pound. There is a Human Society on the Leeward side, and today I'm taking the bus over their, and I'm filling out the application, and going to the training session they have today. I'm hoping I get to walk the dogs, but if I have to clean up shit, I will do that. Anonymous would want me to clean up the shit. LOL!

I'm also writing two alternative endings to my book. I have two idea's of how I want it to end. One is sad, and one is still sad, but more likely what will happen, or I might do three versions, and end it at where I am right now. Finishing my first, first draft of a book is the most productive, and meaningful thing I've done with my life so far. This book is apart of me, and it will be hard to hear criticism. I don't mind constructive criticism,but when someone trashes the book for no reason but to trash the book, my feelings will be hurt. Lately I've been cleaning the book up, re writing parts that need to have more details, and more feeling. Then they're are parts where I over did the detail, and I have to make it more structured. Then I'm sending the book off to an editor I met a while back, at a internet cafe. Her name is Kathy, and she is a writer herself. She also said when I'm finished she would bring my book to her publisher. Hip hip hooray. From their who knows what will happen. I may be finished with the first draft, but I'm not completely finished. I have alot more work to do. ALOT!!!!
I ready for it tho, and I'm looking forward to it.

So anonymous, you've never read my book, and probably only read my blog on blogger, not my real blog on Myspace, still you judge me. If you hate my writing so much, then why fucking read my blog. Unless I know you, and your trying to hold on to something that's not their. Charlie, if it is you, move the fuck on. Get the fuck over it. Stop reading my blog.

Enough about all that bullshit. Not my book, but Anonymous bullshit.

As far as my Methadone treatment, and my use of Xanax, I'm doing really good at weening myself off the Xanax. I only take one 1mg pill a day. I only take more than that is when I really need it. If I'm having a panic attack. I plan on being off the Methadone in April, so when I get to NYC I will be methadone free. Then hopefully I can chip. I don't want to get strung out again right away. I want to wait until I'm able to take care of myself financially before I become strung out. I'm also applying for SSI, SSD, with the help of legal aid. So if I get that, I can start to take care of myself, and not live off my parents. Since my welfare is cut off for this month, I have already filled out my re application and have an appointment with my welfare case worker, and I will be bringing my mental health case worker with me this time, so I don't get fucked over again. I should have gotten my welfare for my mental illness, and not my addiction. It was just easier for them to give it to me because I'm a junky, than have me evaluated by one of their psych doctors. Hopefully I get it, but I shouldn't get my hopes up too high. Maybe I won't be a drain on society after all. Just on my parents, until my book gets published. Anonymous gave me even more incentive to get the book published. So thank you Anonymous.

Tuesday, December 30, 2008

I haven't got much to say. I just watched the suicide of Budd Dwyer. For those of you who don't know what I'm talking about, Budd was a senator, or congressmen, who shot himself in the head during a press conference in the 1980s. I have wanted to see this video for a long time, but could never find it...until today.

I thought the video would be very disturbing, but really it wasn't. He put the gun in his mouth, and it was over with. There was alot of blood coming out of his mouth and nose. It looked as tho he was still alive for about 2 seconds after he fell to the floor, and then you can see the life go out of his eyes. I wonder if it was painful? You can hear people in the background, when he pulls the gun out of the Manila envelope, saying, "Budd don't do it, and he hesitates for about 10 to 15 seconds, and then he shoots himself. Then you can hear in the background, a man saying don't panic, someone call a doctor, and the ambulance, and the police. Then they turned the camera off.

I really feel bad for his family. To have to witness their loved one kill himself. I wonder why he chose to kill himself in such a public manner? Most people who kill themselves do so in a very private way. Some people find a hiding place, so no-one will find them.

Sylvia Plath's first suicide attempt she crawled into a cubby hole in her house, and took an overdose. She didn't want anyone to find her until she was for sure dead. She didn't take enough of the pills to get the job done, so she woke up two days later, and someone herd her moving around in the cubby hole, and they pulled her out, and brought her to the hospital.

Mine where all private, excluding the attempts I made while drunk. Which are too numerous to count. Those I did in front of whom ever was around. I tried to hide the fact that I had just taken a bottle full of Dexedrine. Which by the way, was the stupidest way to attempt suicide. I took an upper, so I would have been awake for the whole dieing part until I finally died. Being suicidal and drinking do not go together very well. First of all you not thinking straight, and usually its hard to find a instrument to do the deed with.

My closest attempt was when I was stone cold sober. It was the most calm I have ever felt without drugs. First I shoot up enough Morphine to get me high, and then I took 500 aspirin with a bottle of wine. For whatever reason my dad checked in on me, and found me before I had completed the task of dying. I still feel like a terrible selfish asshole, cunt, retard, when I think about how my father must have felt finding his only living child lying their going. He already found his father's dead body when he committed suicide at our house, in our garage. Finding two suicides in one lifetime...my father is a strong man. I forgive all his faults, because I am no where near as strong as he is. I've seen my father attempt suicide, but he was drunk, and the next morning he seemed to be all better, although he was still blue, but he wasn't trying to hang himself. That happened the day after he found his dad's body. I was seven.

I believe I blogged about this before.

Anyway, the reason I wanted to see this video so badly was because before Kurt Cobain shot himself he watched the video of Budd shooting himself over and over for hours on end. I think after seeing that shooting yourself in the head is pretty much painless, it took out some of the fear of suicide for him. Of course Kurt used a shotgun, and Budd used a handgun. Perhaps there is a difference in the effectiveness of getting it done, and the pain involved. Kurt also injected a nice juicy shot of H before he put the Shotgun in his mouth, probably just to make sure it was painless.

Away, just thought I'd share this with you.

Also I have a question for "anonymous", if you hate my blog so much, and hate my writing, then why in the world do you read it? Are you retarded, or worse yet an obsessed Charlie who can't move on? "anonymous" why don't you go back to your job. Coward.
Lots of love.
Anna Grace

Friday, December 26, 2008

Its finally over. No more reason to be jolly. Soon it will be 2009, and soon I will be 26 years old. Feb. 2nd is my birthday. Yes, I was born on Groundhogs day, and yes, I've seen the movie. I like the movie alot, as Bill Murrary is one of my Favoirite comedic actors.
Christmas eve I spent in a mall with my father rushing around buying my mother and father gifts. I got my dad a watch from Fossil, my mom a necklace that says, " Live, Laugh, Love". She's obsesed with that mado. You know what I mean, dance like nobody is watching, love like you've never been hurt, work like you don't need the money. We've all herd it, and yes life should be lived like that. I try to, but since what I love everyone...including the goverment says I'm not allowed to be with. Without my love, I can't dance, and I definatly cannot work. Well I do work, on my book, and too me that is my job, career. I am a writer. A shitty writer, but no the less a writer. Whenever someone asks me what my job is or where I work, I used to struggle with how to answer them. Oh yeah, well I'm an unemployed Heroin addict. Now I just answer I'm an unpublished writer. I'm an artist whom very few, or more likely no one appreciates. LOL!
Now I love it when people ask me what I do. I like to see the shock in their eyes. Sort of like, "yeah unpublished, and you'll stay that way. Fool."
Wow, did I get distracted. This post was suppose to be about what my Xmas was like, but instead, I went of on a pointless tangit about my occupaiton or lack there of.
Anyway, my dad got my mom a digital camera, and my mom got my dad a very expensive shirt and shorts. I'd be mortified to wear something that cost so much. In my youth I was concerned with the brand of my clothes, but after 8th grade and when I began to read poetry, and write shitty poetry, I stopped caring about those labels. My dad tho, he still cares. He likes to go out to the bar, and ooze money. He wants his clothes and watch to scream, "I'm rich, come talk to me beautiful young women." I cringe thinking about my father at a bar hitting on young women.
They say women marry men like their fathers. Gawd no, I would not be able to stand someone like my dad. Every guy I have ever dated was the exact oppisate of my dad. Don't me wrong my dad is the best dad, or he tries his best, and he's funny, but he's way to caught up in the frivolus things in life.
Anyway...
Christmas morning, I brought out all the gifts, and gave my mom and dad both of their gifts. Then I got mine... A 300 gift card to Old Navy, and a bike. I was very excited about the bike. I've been wanting one for sometime. Getting around Hononlulu is much easier on a bike. My bike has pedal breaks, like when you were a kid and on your first bike, to hit the brakes you pedal backwards. That will take a bit of getting used to. I got a basket for the bike too, so Eleanor Rigby can ride with me. Just call me Dorothy. Get it...Wizard of OZ. Fuck OZ, I'd stay in the poppy field. Again I digress.
So this morning I woke up, and only had one Xanx bar left. OMG, I had to go downtown and get more. So thats what I did. I took my parents car to the methadone clinic by myself, and stopped in China Town to pick up, but of course no-one was holding. I lucked out and came across some guy who had five bars, and I bought that to tide me over till tomorrow. I was looking to make a big buy, so I don't have to go down their every other fucking day. I have money left over from Xmas gift buying. MY welfare is cut off for the month of January, so I'm gonna be hurting for pills. Which is going to suck. Why did I bother to get a second habit. I'm such an idiot. I'd rather get off the methadone, and use Heroin everyday, I want to feel that warm childlike feeling again. The Xanax doesn't do that for me. The Xanax is just my obsession with pills, and my need to take something to make myself feel like I have some control over my addiction. When I get off the methadone, I'm sure getting of the Xanax will be easy enough.
This blog is so fucking dumb.

Tuesday, December 16, 2008

why am I so....

fucking stupid? Today I said fuck my methadone. I'm not going to take it. Things went well up until around NOW.
Now I feel like an emotional pin cushion. Everything I have been numbing for the past 5 years is rising to the surface. I again begin to think about Kurt Cobain, and suicide. I start to think about my book, and how fucking shitty I am at writing. I start to think about my life. I stand outside and am in a daze. My dog has to go potty, so I walk her. Just from walking two steps I begin to sweat, and my nose starts to run, and my eyes water. I feel the sickness comming on, but could it be in my mind. Methadone is suppose to have a half life of up to 48 hours. Heroin's half life is only I believe 8 hours at most. Which means with H you get dope sick a lot fast, and harsher, but it gets over with alot faster and nicer. With the methadone, your dope sick for up to but not limited to a full fucking month. But.....its not the dope sickness I'm most afraid of. Its the mind fucking I'm most afraid of.
In your mind you littelly cannot think about anything else except opiates. No matter what, I've tried smashing my hand in a door, to take away thoughts. As soon as that inital pain of the slam went away I was right back to thinking about how I could get high. Panic attacks ensue, and maddness is all you know. If you do fall asleep, the only think your mind will let you think about is opiates. I remember one of my dreams.
I was up in my bed room, and I had a bunch of 8mg dilauded pills, I'm talking I had a garbage bag full of them, but for whatever reason I couldn't open the garbage bag full of the pills and use them, and then the bag got a hole in it, and the pills started falling out. Where ever a pill fell I herd a sound of music. Like a piano sound, and I was trying to remember where all these pills where droping by the sound they made when they dropped so when I was able to use them I'd be able to find them. When I woke up I was shivering and covered in sweat in a jail cell. Thats also where I feel asleep at. So there was no way I was getting high. NO matter what, and there was nothing I could do to stop the thoughts. so I decided to kill myself, but to no avail. The only thing I got was the jail nurse to write me out a script for Libruim. Mamas little helper. They only helped a little, but that little kept me from doing the deed. Suicide.

Thursday, December 11, 2008

LOOK ON THE BRIGHT SIDE SUICIDE

I wish I could scream on this fucking thing. I NEED TO LEARN TO PLAY THE FUCKING GEETAR, BECAUSE THIS WRITING ISN'T WORKING FOR ME, I NEED A LARGER AUDIENCE. I NEED TO MAKE A STATMENT. I NEED TO BE HATED. I NEED TO TELL THEM ITS NOT OKAY TO MAKE THEIR BABIES CRY.
I WANT TO TELL THEM I HATE THEM. I STINK, I HAVEN'T SHOWERED IN OVER A WEEK. WE HAVE NO TOLIET PAPER, AND I'M NOT GOING TO BUY ANYMORE. I DON'T NEED TO WIPE.
DON'T FUCKING STARE, I HATE YOU, AND I'M NOT NICE. TAKE YOUR LEFT WING AND BREAK IT OFF, BECAUSE YOUR NOT GONNA GET WHAT THEY CAN GIVE. I HAVE A FEVER, AND I'M JUST A LITTLE JUNK SICK, AND I'M CLOSE TO DEATH, BUT I DON'T CARE.
I'M TAKING THIS WEEK OFF, YOU CANT HAVE MY SEX.
I WANT A WIFE, AND HUSBAND, MAKE MY CLAN COMPLETE FOLLOW ME. FOLLOW ME. I HAVE NOTHING TO SAY. I AM NOTHING. WE HAVE NOTHING. I LIE, I STEAL.
I MAKE NO SENSE AND I MAKE VERY MUCH SENSE. I REALLY DO HATE YOU. I REALLY DO HATE MYSELF MORE.
I NEED TO FIND A SCENE, AND I NEED TO BE CARRIED AWAY BY THE DEVIL.
I HAVE TO GO, BUT I CAN'T WIPE. I HAVE TO GO BUT I CAN'T WIPE I HAVE TO GO BUT I CAN'T WIPE.
VERSE CHORD VERSE.
THATS IT. THATS ALL THERE IS. AM I TOO STUPID TO DO THAT. YES I AM YES I AM YES I AM YES I AM YES I AM.
FUCK YOU. DO YOU EVER THINK AT ALL.

Tuesday, December 9, 2008

Dry...

I predicted right. Now one was holding any benzos today. I was downtown for three hours looking to score some benzos. Everyone was dry. It always that way at the begining of the month. Everyone gets their welfare, and goes straight down town to pick up. By the time I can get away from my parents, all the Xanny bars gone.

I don't know how I'm gonna get away tomrrow morning to see if downtown has any of my pills. I'll have to be imaginative. Library, and mall are pretty worn out.

I'm getting off the methadone. I can't take how fat its aking me. No matter how much I work out, I'm still fat Add benzos to the mixture, and my metabolizm probably is slower than turtle.
I got to go.

Sunday, December 7, 2008

I'm fucking up.

I'm SO bored right now. Its 10pm here in Hawaii. My dad just got home from the bar, and I just woke up out of my 3 hour long nod.

I had a pretty shitty day. I was suppose to go snorkeling today, but that of course fell thru. My parents just wern't up for it. I of course then decided that I should go and restock up on my Xanax bars. I'm down to 8. So I took 80 dollars out of my welfare, and went down to China Town, to buy 20 bars, and 20 methadone. I needed the methadone because yesterday my friend Jake missed his dose, and promised me if I gave him my take home for Sunday that he'd pay me back today at 3pm. He never showed, nor did I expect him to. When I was with him yesterday, I bought 100 dollars worth of baby blues. Which is 30mg Oxycodone instant release. The only thing that can break thru the 130 mgs of methadone I'm on. So as soon as I got my 10 baby blues, yes they coasted 10 dollars a piece, I went straight home to put them in my veins. I did 5 of the baby blues in one shot, and I felt a little buzz, but nothing like it would have felt had I not been on MMT. So I did the other 5, same thing. A little buzz, but not the heaven feeling. I wasted 100 bucks. I fucking hate myself. I wish I would have just spent that 100 dollars on bars, and extra methadone.

Anyway...
I'm getting off track. No one had any Xanax bars. I did get my 40 dollars worth of methadone, and 20 dollars worth blue heaven's, which are the 100mg Morphine. 20 dollars bought me 5 of the 100mg Morphine. As soon as I bought the morphine I took all 5 of them. I ate them. I figured it'd just be a waste to shoot them up, so I just took them. I knew that with the 8mg of Xanax I had taken, and my methadone I took that morning, that those 500 mgs of morphine would at least put me on the nod.
So after I made my purchases, I sat down to talk to this one person I knew who said he could get me some bars, and suddenly two police cars pull up, and park in front of us. They get out of their cars, and ask the guy I'm sitting next too if he is so and so. He wasn't so and so, and then they mentioned the person they were looking for was wearing green fatigue pants(army pants). I knew who they were talking about, so as soon as the cops got back in their cars, I went to were I knew the guy in the army pants was, and since he was in the bathroom, I told the people who were outside the door who were in his little circle of friends to tell so and so that cops are looking for him, and for him to not go back to were he usually is.
I was scared because i had just bought those morphine from this guy, so as soon as made sure he knew he was on the radar of the 5-0 I high tailed her outta China Town. I went to the Library, and then home. When I got home, I attempted to blog, but nodded out.
So, so far, I'm 160 dollars. Jake owes me 15 methadone pills. Hopefully he pays me back in Xanax instead. On Monday, I'm gonna try to find Jake, and get the money from him, that he owes me. I know he has it too, because he just got his welfare, just like I just got mine.

Also I met this girl on myspace, and she shares the same dream as me. She lives in NYC, and I want to move there so bad, and my parents are moving there in September. This girl from myspace is also a junky, and just wants to live out the junky dream. I of course want to finish my book before I go back into full blown junky.
Man, before I moved to Hawaii, I was doing so good with only the methadone. Then I move back to Hawaii, where I know everyone who's holding, and how easy it is to get, and just like a junky I went out and started using benzos again with my methadone, and now I'm gonna get my take homes taken away. Son of a bitch. I'm fucking up, I'm fucking it up. I have to stop now. I have to. If I want to finish this book, I have to stop fucking up. I have too much to lose right now.
Gawd, I'm so torn. Like always.
Any advice?

Saturday, December 6, 2008

Trying to get clean with methadone treatment. Using benzo's tho. I hate being an addict. SOMETIMES!

Today I used, both benzo's and baby blues. Baby blues here in Hawaii are short for 30mgs instant release Oxycodone. I spent 100 dollars, on these pills. I had to shoot up five to feel anything.
After I got the pills, I bought some clean rigs, and a pill crusher. I got on a bus home, to use the baby blues. I was so anxious to use, that I almost got caught by my parents for getting it ready in my room, without the door locked. So as soon as my that happened, I put the works away, and waited. I looked at my email, did some blog reading, and whatnot. Then when I figured my parents were asleep, or close to, I went into the bathroom to wash my face, brining my works in with me.
From there I sat on the floor, and proceeded to go about the ritual. Crush the pills, put in spoon, fill syringe with water, squirt the water into the spoon, carefully trying not to push out the water too fast, and cause the pills to be sprayed all over the floor. Then when you have the water and the pills in the spoon, you light a lighter under the spoon and wait for it to boil. When it boils clear, your ready to put the cotton in, and suck up the concoction in the syringe. After that you run the syring under cold water, and then tie off, find a vien, and insert the needle of the syringe, and pull back until you see that black blood rush in, and then you push the plunger in and wait. 10 seconds later theres that feeling. That feeling nothing compares too. Except maybe heaven if heaven really did exsist.

So now I've opened pandora's box.

So I'm gonna go take another shot.