Thursday, March 25, 2010

I don't want to know how your garden grows

Nobody on the fucking Internet is going to save my life. They don't know where I live, and don't know when I'll do what I want.

I am lazy, I am useless, and am a waste of space and air. I've known this for a very long time. 22 years. Since I was five.

Yesterday I wrote a long drawn out blog. Just as I'm going to post it my computer shuts down on me. That was just how my day went.

At the beginning of the day, I herd Nirvana, Smells like Teen Spirit twice in an hour. So usually when I hear Nirvana my day isn't so bad. I'm such an idiot.

So my dad takes me to the Methadone clinic, and I have two appointments at the clinic, on with my drug councilor, and one with the Doctor of the clinic. The appointment went fine with my drug councilor. I was feeling pretty good about seeing the doctor. I was hoping he would up my dose or just give me a split dose. Usually it doesn't take much prodding to the clinic to up my dose. Well I guess since I've seen the doctor last there has been a change in policy and now they have to take blood to see you Methadone levels before upping dosage. I had, had my blood taken a few weeks before, and the doctor tells me that my Methadone levels looked fine. Little did he know that I had used that morning around 2am. I had gotten my hands on some extra Methadone, because my dose isn't keeping me from getting sick. So I told the doctor what I did.

This really was the first time I had taken any street Methadone. I only did it once, and it just fucking happen to be the day before a tropht test. Which means what my Methadone levels are when they should be at their lowest. Mine was in the middle because I had used. Trying to make the doctor believe that I had only used street Methadone once was like telling him that I had never used drugs before. Yeah right an addict who only used once, and it just happened to be on the day I get my blood taken.

The doctor threatens to kick me out of the clinic, and I start to cry, he tries to calm me down by telling me that he was going to give me another blood test, a peak and a tropht. One blood test in the morning when I get to the clinic when my levels should be at the lowest, and then another blood test three hours later when my levels are at the highest. Then he will tell me if I get to stay, or get to go up on my dose, or get to split my dose.

That morning I had called my prescriptions for Lexapro, and Clonazepam in to the pharmacy, its like two weeks early, but I hoped. I still have a few Clonazepam left, but I always worry about running out, so I wanted that script filled. When I get to Shopko the closest pharmacy to the Methadone clinic, they tell me I have to wait until April 1st to refill both of those scripts. The pharmacist came out and tells me he's writing down that I came in early for an addictive substance. The pharmacies know that I'm addict because when they type in my name and birthday its to check any narcotic prescription by calling the doctor to make sure he wrote it. Due to my past indiscretions with narcotic prescriptions.

Yesterday morning was horrible. All I wanted was for my dose to take effect and put me to sleep, so I could get the damn day over.

The day before Yesterday, I had my two second cousins over. They Kennedy, and Carly both under 12. I painted their finger nails, and toe nails. Put make up on both of them. Then they wanted me to read them my journals. So I did, I edited what needed to be edited for such Innocent ears. Still they were riveted with my boring life. I got board reading about my boring life, and brought them in to watch New Moon. I wanted to start reading them the book instead of watching the movie, but they wanted the movie. So I gave in. All in all, I had fun with the kids.

Today is nothing special but the first day of the rest of my life. I'm broke, I'm dumb, I'm ugly, I'm fat, I have an obsession with Kurt Cobain, I don't want to hurt my parents, so I'll keep myself just numb enough to not end it all.

I'll probably go into the bathroom, turn off all the lights, sit in a corner and crawl into a ball to comfort myself. It works for a while.


Sarcastic Bastard said...

I love you. You are a worthwhile person, and I hope you will see this eventually.

Just know that someone cares.


Melody said...'re right, no one on the 'net(or anywhere else),is gonna save you, you hafta save yourself. The only thing other people can do is let you know that someone is reading and give you what advice they can, good...bad, whatever.
Don't dig deeper into that hole of depression and self loathing/pity, drag yourself out and dust yourself off. I know, easier said than done but you CAN do it. Stop letting the negative comments of ignorant fuck holes get to you. I know that they do. You can't help it when you're in a bad place, mentally and emotionally.
Look, you're not me, I can't tell you exactly what to do because what works for a crazy cunt like myself may not be the best thing for a girl like you. We have alot in common but are very different just the same. All I can do is wish you the best and hope that you manage to compress all my shit into some kind of useable advice.
Anna darlin', stop being your own worst enemy! All the people around you, they can hurt you, make you feel like shit(no one is better at that than our own families), but really the person causing you the most pain is you. Love yourself for who and what you are, good...bad, whatever. It's the only way to get out from under your own shadow.
I'm always around if you need me, you know where to look.
Much Love and Kisses,

Mainely Butch said...

I have found your blogs...and I can relate,even though I am in an older stage of this addiction road. My chosen evil is cocaine, but I shoot my prescription 30mg oxy's to come down's a vicious cycle. I was addicted to heroin back in my 20's and the physical withdrawal after kicking twice has kept me away from it since then. I stayed clean form all of it for 18 years, and now I started using's a vicious vicious cycle my friend, hang in there.