Yet again, I'm feeling panicked, and just plain worried about everything. I can't sleep, and I keep crying for no reason. I am all alone, or it is just me, and Eleanor my dog. My dad is in Wisconsin, and my mom is at work. It is 10pm, and I can't go out, because fuck I hate going out. It would just make me even more panicked.
This is the downside of being addicted to Benzo, aka Xanax. Once you start taking them when you don't need them, you end up getting a reverse reaction when you take one when you really do need one. Like right now, I need a Xanax to calm down, but I took two and it just made it worse.
I'm even contemplating taking my take home dose right now. If I did that I would have no reason to wake up tomorrow, but I wouldn't be able to sleep, so I would have to get up and go looking for Methadone on the street.
Damn this fucking addiction. I should have waited to use Heroin until I did something with my life, you know something creative. Something that would make me proud to be alive. Instead I got hooked before I could do anything. Now I feel stuck, stuck here, there, and everywhere.
I promised my parents that I would move back to Wisconsin with them for one month before I move out to Seattle. Somehow I have a feeling now that my parents are putting their money into building yet another house, I won't get out. I won't get out. Fuck I'll never get out. I am out in a sense, but I'm still stuck. How do I release myself mentally? How do just not care about my parents, and say fuck you bitches I'm leaving and I'm not coming back. So many people have done that, but me...nope I can't bring myself to do it.
One other thing, I was reading about people who have idols, and apparently having an idol, and an obsession with that idol means you can't think original thoughts. You just emulate what you think your role model/idol would do. Would....who the fuck knows. So I'm just a loser who thinks Kurt Cobain was cool. Really genius, he made great music, and at just the right time. Me I made nothing at just the wrong time.
The other day, after getting my dose I went to a group meeting, and the Methadone doctor was giving the presentation. It was about how Heroin, and Methadone work on the brain. In that presentation he didn't tell me anything I didn't already know. Before I ever did Heroin, or shot up a drug I bought a book called, "The Heroin User's Guide". Of course I didn't find it in any book store, I had to go to Barns and Noble and have them order it for me. I read that book from cover to cover at least 50 times. I know that Methadone is a synthetic form of Heroin, and Morphine is just one Molecule different from Heroin, and that molecule is the reason Heroin hits you faster and harder, some would say better. I know the pros and cons of using intravenously to smoking Heroin, I know that the safest way to use Heroin is to smoke it, second safest way is to snort it, but you can only snort China White H, and there is no China White down here.
All the other people in the group didn't get it. One kid/adult brought his dad who is a cop, and wanted to understand why his kid needed Methadone to stop using Oxycontin. This cop could not understand why his son couldn't just stop. People are so fucking ignorant. Even doctors, you go into a doctors office and the second you tell the doctor your on Methadone treatment, they dismiss you as just another junky here to get pain meds, when in reality if your on Methadone your not drug seeking, your there because your in real pain, and the normal vicoden the doctor would prescribe for an non opiate addict just would not kill the pain for a person on Methadone treatment.
Then I was thinking the whole time, while all these people who ARE ON Methadone treatment asked questions about shit they should already know, that the only reason I'm going down on my Methadone, and trying to get off it totally is so I can stick a needle in my hand/arm and feel that fucking rush Heroin gives you, or to even to just take a Percocet and feel a buzz. I'm sick of using Methadone to cover up that urge I have inside me to use.
I know that anonymous comments are the most truthful comments. I am a mediocer writer at best, and that I will never become a famous author, (which btw I never wanted to be a "famous" writer, just a published writer) they are right. Just because they are right doesn't mean I'm going to give up, fuck writing is the only thing I have. Without it I would have just now having a panic attack, thought about taking all the pills I could get my hands on, and just fucking ODing, and get this shit over with.
One good thing to mention, I have inspired my mother to write about her childhood. She never really told me much about her childhood. My Grandma, my mom's mother is totally unwilling to talk about the past. So I would never get anything out of her. I don't know why she refuses to talk about the past. I guess in her mind the past is the past, and there is nothing you can do to fix it. Still just hearing the stories, and relating to them is something family members want. I would love to know about my ansectors who migrated from Ireland, and all the other family, and where they migrated from and when. What they were like.
Fuck, I'm only 26 years into my life, and most likely will never have a child of my own, a blood related child, because of some sort of condition that was bestowed upon me. So if the purpose of women is to bear children, then I have no purpose at all. Even knowing this, knowing that I may never have a family or anyone who gives a shit about who I was while alive, I'm still writing it down for them. For you, and them, and everyone. No matter how boring, no matter how ugly and pointless my life is and will have been, I will have it written down...for someone to read someday.
I should trademark ppfaceannagrace. The only way to find me on the Internet is to google ppfaceannagrace, and all my blogs come up, and my Myspace page comes up. Although I noticed Myspacers are leaving in flocks, and going to other social networking sites, because myspace has so many technical difficulties. Who knows what the future will be like, I have journals, some just notebook journals, and some leather bound journals. I bought the leather ones to ensure they lasted longer than the notebook ones. So after my death, if they are not just thrown away, or put into storage like all my sister's stuff. How will my future family cousin's and second cousins know how to find my blogs, or my open journals.
My blogs are not written in any kind of good prose, they are just thrown on the page by my fingertips, without a second thought. I just write what I'm thinking, I don't think about what I want to write. I just write what I'm thinking.
Although for the book I have to think about what I'm going to write, but here on blogger, no I don't think about it I just write it.
My book is horrible presentation of prose.
Going back to that group where the doctor was explaining to us Opiate addicts how methadone and other opiates work on the brain, I realized I was smarter than most of, if not all the people in the room, aside the doctor. All that shows is I'm smarter than a bunch of junkies who agreed to go to a presentation about how Methadone works. In that presentation the good stuff, the doctor skipped over, all the "medical jargon", as he called it, is what I was interested in.
Being an addict of course I'm interested in the medical jargon. You never know when that can come in handy.
Note to self, buy a medical dictionary!
110, that is my IQ, which is as ordinary as it gets, 10 points really doesn't make much of a difference, I'm the same as a person with an IQ of 99-109. If only I had an IQ of 120 or even 115 I would be in a different class of intelligence. Yet I'm not. There is not much you can do to change your IQ. In reality there is nothing you can do to change your IQ. I've never taken one of these Internet IQ tests. I've always had mine done by a doctor in school, because I was diagnosed with a learning disability in Math and Language. I have a learing disability in Language, that's like telling a person who wants to be a pro basket ball player that they have no legs.
So tell me, really tell me what the fuck is the point. I know some anonymous person will tell me to just kill myself, and others will tell me that I'm a good writer no matter what anyone says. I just want honesty. The real honesty comes from the readers, and how many readers I have, and the comments those readers leave. I've found that people who's blogs get alot of comments are the best writers. They have large vocabulary, and titillating stories to tell.
What the fuck do I have to write about? Shit!
I'm too negative.
Thanks for reading, and really I mean it. I hope all is well with you, and your not in my negative mind set.
Anna Grace Y.