Friday, February 26, 2010

Journal March 20th 2008

I could never write something as beautiful as Mad World. I find that kind of sad. Truth be told I'm scared to write my true, true thoughts. I'm scared to write anything really! Its that time of year again soon it will be the exact day a year ago, the day I don't dare mention. The day my sister was born. The day, the day, I know what day. The day I wish to never return.

I find my life at this moment peaceful. Not happy, not sad, but bearable. I am 25 years old. I have no friends that are human. I do have parents with whom I live. I do have a routine with which I am comfortable.

I am a drug addict. I haven't used since November 2007. I am on Methadone Matience. This drug works well for me. Without it I go insane. Without it emotions hit me so hard that the air is knocked out of my lungs, and I cannot breath. With it I am comfortably numb. Perfectly complacent. I have no desire for relationships...with anyone. I have no desire for sex. I feel as though I can live on candy bars and sunshine. Its as close to childhood as my adult body can go. I miss childhood so much. How something new is around every coner. I miss the way cold dry air smells, or how the stars in the sky could be so close yet so very far.

I love the way my parents love me no matter how horriable I really am. No matter how many times I break their hearts. I love feeling safe. Safe enough not to wear a mask. Safe from the monsters under my bed, even the devil in my head.

I can't be so introspective, I feel unbearably vunerable. If I pour myself out like ink from my pen, onto this paper I become nothing more than a puddle. So dark and shallow, and sad, really sad. I will end up driving myself mad.
As sure as the night will end I worry that I will never write again.
~Anna Grace~

Nothing really changes here in Anna land. The only thing that has changed is I used again in 2009 sometime. Fuck I used in 2010, who am I kidding. Not much, but fuck I did once. Not Heroin, god no, I wish. No I don't wish. I wish I worked at Dunder Mifflen paper company in Scranton Pensylvania. At The Office.

Thursday, February 25, 2010

rose colored glasses

A great day for Anna Grace. Found this morning I found out that my insurance is paying for my daily dose of Methadone. They are also paying for the gas miliage there and back. Whoop, Whoop! My parents can no longer make me feel like shit for paying for my methadone. 95 dollars a week, 18 dollars a day, 390 dollars a month. Its free, its free! I still have give my father all my SSI checks until I pay back the 5,000 dollars he used to pay for my lawyers when I was in a bunch of legal trouble. After I pay that back I can save up the money and move on to not so greener pastures.

I say not so greener, because nothing is ever as good as it seems while your buliding it up in head. Nothing has ever lived up to my expectaions. I guess I have way too high of expectations.

I have to admit something. This is embarrassing. I'm so not this type of girl. I'm not goth, although I often get along with goth people. I love the movie Twilight, I love the book Twilight. I watch the movie everytime its on Showtime. Sometimes three times a day. I want to look like Bella. I want to marry the guy who plays Edward. Robert Patterson. I have such a thing for British guys, I don't know why. Something to do with the Sex Pistols, and the Smiths. Wait are the Smiths British. I could "Bing it" and find out, but I'd rather look stupid. I wish I could move to England, but my SSI wouldn't carry over to any other country. I'm stuck in the States, if I want to live off the goverment. If I sell my book tho, England here Anna comes. Beware.

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

dream about Marty and other assorted things.

I'm at my wits end with my father. He is such a fucking hypocrite. He takes 3 Percocets and clonazepam a day. He is prescribed these drugs for an old back injury he received in the service. Someone in my dad's place is the last person to be questioning me if I'm taking his Percocets. No dad I am not taking any of your medication.
I'm on 100 mgs of Methadone, Percocets would do nothing to me. I would not get high. The Methadone does make me sleepy(god I wish I had a I don't)and I sleep from 11am to four or five. Every afternoon I get up and my father is on my case about being high. Every time he doles out his pills he swears up and down that some are missing. I just want to smash my dear fathers face in. In my fathers defence I've never seen him nod out. But he drinks like a fish.

Today my Mom, and Dad drove me the Methadone clinic this morning so they could go grocery store. I've just found out that my insurance pays back the gas mileage I use driving from Oconto Falls to Green Bay every fucking day. Tomorrow I find out if my insurance covers my Methadone dose. Oh God would that be a saving grace. I pay my parents my entire SSI check every month and give them all my food stamps, but they still complain about paying for the Methadone.

You know what, I want off the Methadone. I want to be awake during the day, I want to be able to read for longer than an hour or two a day. I'm sick of always craving sweets, and always eating sweets making me fatter and fatter. I'm just so so so so afraid I would relapse and hurt my parents again and again with my drug use. I want to move back to Hawaii or over to Washington State, and be far away so as they wouldn't be able to see what I am doing. I want to get high. Those are the worst words that I could possibly tap out.

Today on our way home I blurted out that I really want to drive the jeep into a tree. My dad yells at me when I say things like this, as if his yelling at me makes me feel so much better, and my mom just chalks it up to her anti depressants aren't working.

I had this dream last night about a kid I went to school with. Now he is a man, but when I knew him or of him he was a kid, so in my mind I think of him as a kid. In this dream I met up with him in a bar and for some reason he just started trying to jump my bones. (I'm a girl and don't have any "bones" to jump.)I kept saying you and your wife just had a child, and I have no libido on Methadone, and this is just not the right thing to do. Still he was relentless, and somehow we ended up at what in my dream was his childhood house. In that house we started to talk about books, and writing, and suddenly I wanted to have sex with him, but he was telling me he has a wife and just had a child, and this was wrong. Then I woke up confused. WTF did that dream mean.

I've made up mind, I'm not leaving this house for any other reason than to go to the clinic, and to run to the gas station every now and again. Plus I'm going on Nurti System.

Sorry so scattered.