Well, last night was a bad night. But today was a good day so far. Probably my last good day for a long time.
I'll start with last night, as you know I got some Methadone to hold me over for hopefully two days. As Methadone has a long half life. Methadone peaks about three hours after you take it. So I didn't want to waste the wellness Methadone brought me, so I stayed awake until 3am, and dreaded getting up figuring I was going to be sick. At six am my phone rings, I was sound asleep, but I woke up and looked to see who was calling. I didn't plan on answering it, but it was a name I knew might be a lead in the search for Heroin. So I answer the phone all groggy. The person on the other line says, your going to owe me for this one. I said,"what are you talking about"? This person says I got a gram of H for 120 dollars. I said, "yeah, but its probably cut to shit". This person says, "no I've used some of it, and its good shit". I say to this person, "I'm on my way over".
I leave the house at quarter to seven in the morning, and drive thirty minutes to this person's house. When I walk in this person has their works laying all over. I asked how much of the gram do you have left? This person tells me they had two grams, and is willing to sell me the left over gram for 130 dollars. I can even fix there, and decided if its good enough to buy. So I fix up, and god granted my wish, its good dope. I buy up my gram, and go home. At home I bang up .04gs and get loaded. I started this post at about 9am and its 2pm now. I keep nodding off, and having to delete a bunch of zzzzzzzzzzzxvccccccccccccccc;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;; bullshit.
Now tomorrow is the day I dread. I can't get as high as I am today and stay in my room with the computer and write and nod, I have to come out of my room and act normal. Which will be easy with a small shot of H. Tomorrow is the day my dad fills his pill box. Not even being this high makes the worry go away about tomorrow. Not just tomorrow. If he doesn't notice tomorrow, he'll notice when he starts to go sick. If he can just go without noticing until the 6th when he's almost a thousand miles away from me, then I'll be okay. Until then the stress of this is killing me. I'm never bothering with my dad's pills ever again. Hopefully by the time my parents come back I'll be on Methadone once again.
Now I ask you to pray that my dad takes mercy upon me. If I was in his position I would go ballistic, and want to kill my kid. That and the disappointment of knowing my child relapsed after a good amount of clean time. I'm disappointed in myself, I don't need anyone else to be disappointed in me. Those of you who hate me, I'm going to get mine. I wouldn't put past getting whipped by the belt. A 28 year old women gets whipped by the belt of her father. I feel like Frances Farmer. Either that or he'll scream at me, and call me junky whore. That he can't stand the sight of me. I have a plan to have my cousin come pick me up. So I'm not in his sight all day.