So here is what really happened.
About two months ago, I started using Heroin really heavily. I began again in Arizona. I met a young taxi driver who I asked if he could get me heroin. Four hours later I was shooting up again. Man did it feel good. I left Arizona, and started taking my dad's Percocets. I missed cooking up a shot, and putting it into my veins. So I found a dealer here in WI.
Me and my best friend were going out to the bars every weekend. She wanted to break up with her boyfriend Jose. She kicked him out, and he had no place to go. So when my dad left for Arizona I let him stay here. We didn't stay in the same room. He had a connection for H. It was expensive but convenient. 50 dollars for a quarter. I shoot up a quarter at a time. Its decent H. After a while Jose and I started "going out". All we ever really did was get high together. I really started to like him. He was still in love with my best friend. I comforted him when he would cry because he missed his family.
He would tell me that he liked me and then would cry because my friend was seeing someone else. I was getting mixed signals. We slept together every night and he would cuddle me. It was nice to have a man's arms around me again.
After my dad got back from Arizona I started using more than ever before. My book was out, and I was ready to kill myself. So I started to get careless about how much I used. Four times I ended up in a cold shower after ODing. During this time I called the Methadone clinic and tried to get back in, but they wouldn't let me unless I went into a 30 day inpatient treatment program. So I planned on getting myself into Brown County Mental hospital where I detoxed for 7 days. After that I was let out to go to the Jackie Nitchke center. A rehab program.
Wait I'm leaving out a big part. About two weeks ago Jose robbed a little Mexican store with a bee bee gun. I had no idea he was going to do this. So that day, when my dad called and said I had a check for 75 bucks waiting for me at home, I was all over that. I needed money to get my fix. So I took the car of the people I was staying with. I had to move out of my parents house because I had stole some checks from them, and I was using. They didn't want me in their house. My friend (Jose's ex) told the police she thought Jose was living at my parents house. So when I came to get my 75 dollar check I open the door, and a cop takes me by the wrist, and sits me down in a chair, and starts asking me questions about a robbery. I had no idea this had taken place, and all I could tell them is that I woke up around noon, Jose got home around one pm, and what he was wearing. I also told them about the gun I seen. As soon as I got up that day, I was calling my dealer but he wasn't answering. He was out of state reing up. So I'm sick as a dog, and no one is holding.
When the cops got to me, I was so sick, I had to get up and vomit three times. I had many track marks on my arms and hands. I had been sharing needles, and ended up with cellulites in my hands and feet. An infection from using dirty needles. We all had Hep C, so we figured fuck it, I would be glad to get HIV so I knew how I'd die. Turns out I don't have HIV, I guess god doesn't want me to get HIV. Still I have to get tested again a few months as HIV doesn't show up right away.
Jose went to jail, and I had a mental break down. Meghan (my friend) had told the police that Jose was living at my parents. I didn't tell on him, because I didn't know what went on. As soon as the police left I went to the crisis center and got myself put into detox. After seven days I was sent to rehab, where I only made it twenty four hours. I came home, and now my parents don't trust me. So I don't have access to the car, I can't leave unsupervised. I feel like I'm fourteen.
Sorry this is all over the place, but writing about it is hard for me. I really had feelings for Jose, and now he's going to prison for a long time. He thinks I told on him, but I didn't. My friend or I should say ex friend Meghan is trying to say I was with who ever Jose was with when he robbed the store. She keeps saying that I'm going to end up in a jail cell. Who knows maybe I will. Although I am innocent. Jose protected me from this, by not telling me what he did. Non of this is Jose's fault. I fucked over my best friend, taking the side of her ex boyfriend. I take all the blame.
Since I went through detox I haven't touched a single drug. I feel this is the perfect time to get clean. Gledwood was right, I was on Methadone longer than I had been on H. It seems every time I get strung out I end up getting caught with in two months, and am fucked.
IF you don't believe that I'm an opiate addict look up my record. When I killed myself off on the blog you guys went to great lenghts to find out if I was really dead. Looking me up on facebook. I had like 30 friend request. I denied most of them. Gledwood was the only person I really wanted as a friend on FB. Looking at the obits online for Green Bay WI. IF I did really die it would be in the Oconto Falls Times Herald, I'll be buried there.
OH yeah, the Methadone clinic would only take me back if I completed a 30 day detox, and since I was only there for one day and jumped the fence I can't go back. The clinic says I need more help than they can give me. I can't go to the one in Appelton, which is 30 mins from Green Bay because Meghan goes there, and she would do anything to get me in trouble. She hates me now. Everyone hates me now. Not saying I don't deserve it. I do.
So there it is. The truth. A jumbled truth. My book is written like an illiterate. They call it Midwest prose, but in reality its just a bad writer, writing a book. Has anyone on here bought the book? I know most of you said you wouldn't buy the book. After so many mean comments I stopped reading them. Sorry. My fragile mind can't take all the negative remarks.
When I'm feeling more like writing I will. Right now I can't even remember what I just wrote. I know I reiterated myself too much.