Where did I leave off? Well, I was nodding, because I took 14mgs of Xanax, mixed with my 100 and some milligrams of methadone. So I was in la la land. I can't believe how good I did on my previous blog considering the state I was in. I seriously couldn't keep my head up for the more than 10 minutes at a time.
So, I went early to the Mall, and got a good hook up for my benzo's which should keep me from keeling over from benzo withdrawl. This morning I really did luck out. My usual "people" where no where to be found. Lucky I went upstairs to the McDonalds dinning room, which really isn't a dinning room, its more of a place where junkies go to sit and nod out, while eating sweets. I got there early enought that the person I saw, wasn't so fucked up he didn't know who he was, where he was, or what he was doing. I had bought off this person before, and he was so out of it, he claimed that I had ripped this person off. This person diden't even remember that little scandel he caused, because he sold me the goods, and I was good to go.
I left the mall, and went to the clinic. I noticed that the group room was filled with candy, and places to sign up for diffrent types of groups, which would be good for me and my welfare. Which in turn would be good for me and my social security disablity. I sat around for a while, signed up for a group on Monday's 9am to 11am. Then I sat and talked to this guy in his 40's who was on Methadone treatment back in the 70's, when it first started. He was at the same dose I'm at, and he just quit cold turkey. He said that he's been clean ever since. He was trying to save a junky. Its like captin save a ho, he was captin save a junky. I sat and listened to his story, and told him mine, as much as I could in a half hour.
I had to get out of there, because I had an appointment with my pschycitrist, to get my Bi Polar Meds upped. The appointment was at 11:45, and I had to put gas in the car. So I stop at a gas station on Dillingham, and I put my parents debit card in it, and it says declined, and I went in and gave the cashier the 8 dollars I had on me, and put that all in gas, to get me to Waikiki, so I could go to my appointment, then to Longs Drug store to fill my script. While at Longs I went on a bit a shopping spree. I got Elle a few of her favorite bones, and some of her fav treats. I got her some expensive pee pee pads, that boast no smell. We put the pee pee pad in the bathroom at night and during the day so if she has to go, she goes on the pad instead of on the carpet, or the tile. I also got another ashtray, because we only had two ashtrays for three smokers, so it we were always fighting over ashtrays. Then I got some scors bars, and some Vita water. Liquid herion that boasts health benfits. I swear I love that vita water, and those scores bars. They are what is keeping me fucking fat. I'm going to need to start working out 6 days a week, instead of three days a week.
When I finally got home from all my running around, my dad was in a pissy mood. He had wanted to workout this morning, but he was waiting for me. So when I got home I went on the internet, and started blogging, and then I started to nod, and I went into my room so my parents wouldn't notice. I wound up falling asleep until dark, which is around 6:30pm here in Hawaii.
When I got up, my dad had already left for the bar. He's still gone. I'm expeting him home anytime now. He'll be pissed up, and be passing out on the chair next to the couch, and I'll have to get mom up, and get him into bed. So I can watch TV here in the Living room, until I'm too tired, and need to go in my bedroom. Which is usually around 3 to 5 am. I always end up watching Another Day in Paridise. For whatever reason that movies, whenever I watch it, it inspires me to write. Mostly about Heroin, and Xanax, and Methadone. Yet sometimes, it inspires me to write about other things, like my depression, my suicide that I plan on commiting after my parents die. All that shit.
Although, I think my dad is going to live to be 80 or 90, because, they say when someone has something to live for they hold on for as long as they can to make sure that whatever it is they are living for is taken care of. I worry if I got clean, that my dad would stop worring about me so much and would die sooner rather than later.
I hope both my parents live a long time. I hope that all that time they live, I'm not going to be a depressed, suicidal, maniac for the rest of my life.
What else can I tell you? Not much. I need to work out more. I need to stop with scores. Today I would say I ate about 6 scores bars, and drank three vita waters. Mother fucker. The only exersize I had was walking thru the mall, and back to my car, and up and down the stairs to the clinic, and taking Elle out for her walks. Non of which got my heart rate high enought to burn off all the calories I took in.
I need to make an appointment with my PCP, to get a pap smear, and to get back on my thyroid meds. Maybe I can get a script to Adderal, or Ritlan, or Dexadrine amphetin. (spelling.) I used to be on Adderal for my ADD, and it helped me get shit done, and it took the pounds off fast, because I never ate. The only time I ate is when I would get a head ache from not eating. I stopped taking them, becaue I was never able to sleep and it made my depressions worse. I tried to off myself by taking a whole bottle of my speed pills. Ever since then, I haven't asked another doctor to perscribe me ADD meds. I even tried the non narcotic ADD meds, but they made me piss the bed. Poor Pete had to pull me out of the bed when he realized I was pissing the bed. We had just gotten a new thousand dollar bed from my parents. When I was on those meds, pete was always trying to wake me up when he noticed I was peeing. I never did, so all he could do was pull off the bed, and let me pee on the floor, and let me clean up after myelf in the morning.
Pete must have really loved me. He's seen me at my worst. One time after anal sex, I had shit all over my back, and it was green. Whenever I drink grape soda my exerment turns green. Not sure why. I should google that. He's seen me drunk, and fight him fist fight, naked in a bar, infront of all his freinds. He's seen me almost rob drug stores. He's put up with me stealling money from him for drugs. Which he did break up with me for, but he ended up taking me back.
If it weren't for Pete being tied down, I'd probably still be with him. Even tho we broke up, and all that stuff. When we thought we had to be out of Hawaii by Feb.28th, Pete offered me a place to stay with him in Flordia. All I had to do was have sex with him again. The last time I had sex was with him, December of 07. So its been over a year. I wonder if Pete's had sex since then? He would tell me.
I'm sure he's had the chance, but sometimes Pete's picky, but when he's drunk, he'll literlly go home with anyone. A drag Queen if he was drunk enough. Expesially if he was on benzos. He has no memory if he drinks and takes benzos. No memory at all. I used to drink myself into blackouts ever night when I was homeless in Oconto Falls. I would wake up with Josh, or Pablo, or Pete in bed, and have no idea how the fuck I got there. I was only getting 30mgs Morphine every now and again. So when I didn't have opiates, or benzo's I would drink myself into a blackout, so I could forget my problems for a while, the problem with the drinking was, it made me even more depressed, and after a few weeks of blackout drunks everynight, I would be suicidal. Telling everyone who would listen that I wanted to die, but I didn't have the guts to kill myself any way, but with a gun, and nobody would give me a gun. ASSHOLES.
One day, after the guy I liked alot feel inlove with a woman I introduced him to, I packed up and moved back up to Michigan where my father was living, and where I new doctors where willing to perscribe me Dilaudid. HMMMMMMMMMMMMM..........I miss Dilaudid. MMMMMMMMMMMM............ I miss Heroin. Damn I hate this Methadone, mixed with benzos. It never makes me feel as good as a shot of Diladid, or Heroin does.
What to do, what to do.
I got to go, my father just go home from the bar, drunk, and of course he sat on the chair next to the couch, eathing like a fucking pig. I gotta get him to go into his fucking room.