Sunday, July 31, 2011

Brown County Mental Health was my home for some time

So you want to know what its like in the nut house. Its fucking depressing. Sure you see a lot of crazy people, some really crazy. Mainly I found thinking about killing myself comfortable. Kept my mind off using.

IN the day room there are two sides a tv on each side. One tv is always on news the second is always on music videos. I watched the music videos. I met a guy in there from my hometown of Oconto Falls who was only 21, but we flirted with eachother on down time which is all the time. He did laps around the facility and he leaned in and kissed me. It was sweet. I was taken aback. This 21 yr old kid had guts.

Then there was the guy always talking to the voices in his head. I never really listened to what he was saying. He was about 90 lbs.I think he was in there for not eating because he got put in the padded room for freaking out at meal time. Meal time is how our days are broken up.

I used. I didn't killl myself. I haven't the guts. I'm cursed to live out this long dull life for eternity. I'm in hell. I'm sick I haven't used in 24 hours. I won't be able to use until Tuesday. May as well kick the  habbit  huh. I thought I had it licked when I got out of the nut house, but I was wrong.

I'm a horriable person. Scared to kill myself with a gun. More afraid of what my parents would have to go through. I miss you Gledwood.

Wednesday, July 27, 2011

Pipe dreams

Today its  cloudy and rainy just the way I like it. I've made plans for my futer so I'm not going to kill myself. I'm actually getting a job. Saving money to move out to Olympia Washington. I've wanted to be out on my own for awhile, and a bus ticket is only 140 dollars, its a two day trip. When I get out there I'm going to be a nanny. Oh please don't let any of my futer employers read this blog. I'm actually good with kids. I plan on staying clean. I haven't used today...yet. If so and so calls and offers me some I'll have a hard time saying no. I really can't use because my physc doctor won't see me anymore if I keep using. I see him on the 29th and if I use today I'll be dirty when he UA's me.

I know my plan sounds like a pipe dream. Like I'll ever be stable enough to leave the comfort of my parents lap. They practically chew my meat for me, and pass it back and forth. I'm so unstable right now, I feel like I'm invincable. I can take so much medication and even the doctor said I have a high tolerance and that's why I woke up. Abuseing medications isn't a good idea when you want to kill yourself.  Right now I'm so clean I'm not even on Clonazapam, or Ambien, just my physc meds. If I go off those I have to go  back to the nut house for 90 days. My mom has to monitor my medication, and she's actually taking it seriously this time. I still have to monitor my self medication with H.

Since I've lied on here, I know you have a hard time beliveing me. This is all the gods honest truth.

Tuesday, July 26, 2011

Suicide attempt goes wrong. I'm still alive :(

 I just got out of the nut house today. I went in July 20th. On July 19th (the day my sister died 8 yrs ago) I took 90 Clonazepam, 30 Ambien, about 40 Percocets. I passed out before I finished the suicide note. The next morning my parents woke, and I woke up just natuarlly. Fuck I have a high tolerance. Since I used my dad's pills to try and kill myself, I had to admit that I attempted suicide. I felt fine though so I refused to go to the hospital. Then my mom goes and calls the police.

So I get to the hosptial, and even though its been over eight hours since I took the medication I still had to drink that Charcoal drink. That's a big deturant to use pills to off oneself. The only thing the doctor was worried about was my ancimpitphine level aka tylanol, soory my spelling sucks. Anyway, the tylonol is in the Percocets, so I had to be put in the ICU, and given the antidote to tylonol posioning. So I did my night in the ICU, and then I was brought to Brown County mental health. Where I stayed 6 days. They don't let you smoke there, but they do give out nicorette gum, and now I'm craving fucking gum. The only thing I gained out of staying there was worse depression, and read catcher in the rye twice. That damn Holden Caufeild he's aces.

I haven't used since last week Tuesday. I'm not sick, and I can go without. I still have cravings pretty intense ones too. While in the nut house they barly talked about my depression, they wanted to talk about my drug usage. The wanted me to go to AODA groups everyday, but I told them no. I don't belive in the 12 steps. When they did ask me if i was still suicidal I said no, just to get out of their faster. I have a reader who told me there is a easier way to kill oneself with Carbon Monoxide, but he won't tell me how. I beg of you to tell me how. IF you thinking of putting a hose on the tail pipe of the car, and the putting the other end in the window and use something to keep the fumes from escapeing, I've thought of that, but we have an underground garage shared with a least 60 people, someone is bound to find me before I'm done with.

I'm broke so I can't even buy herion. So I may as well stay clean. If I do relapse it will be to die.

Tuesday, July 19, 2011

I'm giving up on life

I was denied at the Methadone clinic again. There is no way I can go back. I'm damned. I guess its back to suboxone. I'm through with dope, too much lieing, scheming, cheating, stealing, everything wrong a person can do, I do. I just don't know that I can live without knowing I'll never feel that high again.

Heroin is like having the key to a room, and in that room is everything you want out of life and the afterlife. You want to keep that key so you can go back into that room.

If there is reincarnation I want to come back as a plant. As I believe being a junkie is like being a plant. Alive, but not feeling. Dieing without worry. No suicide, no love, no hate, just thirst,  hunger, and sunlight. Right now I hate the sunlight. I curse it everyday it shines. I want to live in the Pacific Northwest were its gray almost all the time.

I need a job, I need to write more, read more. I need to stop blogging so much, and journaling. Just reliving my usage. The last thing I need to do.

Monday, July 18, 2011

I don't do dishes I throw them into the crib

I finally got a hold of my dealer. I feel much better. I had no money, but my friend shared with me. At the moment I'm having a hard time keeping my eyes open. I'm trying to watch a film called Magic Bus, about Ken Keasy and Neil Cassidy Its about the bus trip they both took with a  bunch of beats, band hippies from LA to NYC.Just writing this is hard for me, everything is blurry. Fuck my dad just walked in and I was nodding out. Fuck I hate this.

Today I appealed my denial to be a client at the Methadone clinic. I had to write a letter to the head honcho, and then they take the letter before the Doctors. I called the Appleton clinic and they denied me because I live in Green Bay and they said there was to much clinic hopping. I doubt my appeal will work. I wrote the letter out fast, and at the end said, I pray that you take me back, my life hangs in the balance.

For me the Methadone helps to keep me as straight as I've been since 17. I remember hating it while I was on it. Mainly because I couldn't get high on it. That was a good thing for me though, I didn't use very much on it, when I was on a high dose. Of course in Hawaii I was on a low dose, and could get high without spending tons of money. Am I just fucking up my life more and more? I do want to get clean I want to stop this madness. I think a gun is my only true way out of addiction. The big sleep.

I wonder if after you die, a part of the brain dreams, and that's what makes up heaven or hell, how good the dream is or how horrifying. The brain is a mysterious organ. We could think it is dead, but perhaps its just working in a different way/ Then again I googled photos of shot gun blasts to the head, and some of their brains are almost all gone. How could that work, how could it be alive on a different pane when its all over the walls? Unless the brain keeps working even when in pieces or outside the body. Who knows what happens when you die.

I found a bar that I actually feel comfortable in. Its called the crusty Frog. Its definitely my scene, and a great juke box.
They actually have Elliott Smith on the juke box. You don't even have to do an Internet search for it. Its right there with rest of the music already downloaded on the juke box. They have the Pixies, Morphine, L7, Bikini Kill, Nirvana etc.I like to go to the bar when I'm having cravings and have too little money to buy dope , but enough to get drunk.

I've got to end this post. I have more to tell you, but you'll have to wait till tomorrow.

Sunday, July 17, 2011

Broken Hymen

My fucking dealer isn't answering his fucking phone. The other person I go through is a mid person and she can't get ahold of her dealer either. What are they taking Sunday's off?

I want to have sex really bad. I have my period though. I don't have anyone to have sex with. I could go to a bar and pick up some dispicable man.

My MP3 keeps playing songs twice in a row. Its really getting on my nerves. Listening to Elliott Smith. My nose keeps running, my eyes watering, I keep sneezing, my muscles ache, I have bowel problems. I'm in hell. That gun is looking pretty and shinny. Just put the damn bullet in the chamber Anna. All this shit will be done with. Where the fuck are your guts. In school was knowen as the person who would try anything. I once jumped off the roof of the school on a bet, I ran through a bar naked with a beer box on my head on a dare. Now I can't even pick up a gun and do myself in. I can take chances with sharing needles, that's no problem. It seems to be no problem to everyone I shoot dope with. Some will ask does anyone have anything, I always pop up and tell them I have Hep C as does the other guy I usually share with, and still they use the needle. I wonder if I don't off myself if I'll die of Hep C?

Come on dealer answer your phone! I've been blowing up his phone for hours. I've tried to sleep away the day, but another side effect of not using when your a junkie is insomina. I just walked away from blogging for an hour and still no answer. I've been calling him since 11am. Can't he just answer and say he can't do it today? This is what sucks about Green Bay. Only two dealers that I know of. Well three, but one I don't really know.

Love Buzz for suicide

How do you know a junkie is lying? Their mouths are moving, or their fingers as it is. Honestly, my life is dull, I wait for my dealer, I get high, I scrounge up money to get high, call my dealer, get high, repeat endlessly.

The only thing interesting is my mood swings. I was in a up swing for about two weeks. Hence all the lies. Now I'm down. So fucking down. I took the hand gun out of my dad's room and put it in my room, with one bullet. The thing is you have to have pressure on the back handle of gun to get the trigger to pull. How the hell am I going to manage that. My hands will be contoured in such an awkward way. I suppose if I were to use a shot gun my hands would be contorted in an awkward way.

From now on I vow to be honest. Except the bits I have to hide from family. Who the fuck am I kidding my family knows what I'm doing. If I didn't tell you guys about the gun then maybe I would really do it. Now my family knows, and soon the gun will be hidden away. Like I can't find it, come we live in a rather small apartment. If you scroll all the way down to the bottom of my blog you can see my bedroom.

Yesterday I was riding my bike, and I saw this man skateboarding, he had pink hair, and I was instantly smitten. I pulled him over and took a photo on my phone of him. He was eating an apple. I wish I would have asked if he had money so we could get high, but heroin is such a touchy subject. You never know who is totally against trying the one "too hard drug" and who isn't. At least I should have asked if he wanted to hang out. Gledwood should die his hair pink. You here me Gleds. The man that I truly love, and wish I were closer to.  He has me locked in his manget tar pit trap.

I love to shoot guns. They make me feel powerful.. My dad takes me to the shooting range and I go berserk. As beserk as the rules will let me go. I unload onto that target, missing it mostly. Bad aim, actually I don't aim at all. I pray the gun will back fire and kill me in the process.

I could shoot myself in the mouth with the gun pointed upward toward the brain, like Bud Dwyer did in his suicide video. It would be easy to push the back of the gun handle to pull the trigger.

I would use pills, but all I have access to is 120 oxycodone, 90 clonazepam, 30 ambien. The Oxycodone are big pills likely to make me vomit, 90 clonazepam and 30 ambien god I take that on a daily basis, plus Oxycodone is an opiate which I have a high tolerance to. I've looked up how to make Cyndie on the Internet, but I'm no chemist, and to get all the chemicals is a bitch. Then there is carbon dioxide poisoning, but we have an underground garage shared with 100's of people, it would take a week to fill the garage with carbon dioxide, plus someone would notice me before I died. I would just have a bad head ache. Yet, I have found an internet video where a guy buys a canaster of co2 and puts a mask on and turns the co2 on full blast and he's dead in minutes, if not seconds. Then their is the helium which they say is painless. I should buy one of those clowns that you fill balloons with and just suck on that nozzle until I'm gone.

Daddy's little a girl ani't a girl no more.

Can you feel my love buzz? CAN YOU FEEL MY LOVE BUZZ?

Wait only the good die you. I'm no good. I'll live to ripe old age suffering from life. I hate this plane of existence! I'm debating on waiting until I get my royalty check and using it all to buy Heroin and offing myself one big shot. If only I could find a vein. By then my vein that's blocked by missing too many times will be clear. I've been skin popping lately. It sucks. I want that rush. That God like feeling. God is in a gauncho. gauncho is the Spanish way to say needle. I call it a gauncho because I like it better. I don't know if I'm spelling it right.

Saturday, July 16, 2011

A mean ploy to hurt my feelings, or a real person who likes me a lot?

Today I was ungodly dope sick. I no longer steal my dad's pills, so I went and bought ten measely mgs of methadone to try to take the edge off. Its not working. My friend was suppose to get a bag today, but he had to wait for his boss to call to get money to buy the dope. His boss never called.

Yesterday on the other hand the dealer came over to my friend's house while I was there and was cutting the dope. He gave us a lot of dope. Me and my friend shared a bag, and as soon as I hit my vein and pushed the H into my blood stream I was out of it. I hit my head on the floor from falling over after nodding out. It seems like the high didn't last as long as usual, unless I was out of it for, four hours and didn't remember the time  passing which is vilely possible.

Aside from my drug use, God I wish I would have never found God in a needle. Perhaps I've found Satan in a needle, and he's lead me astray.I'm feeling like the loser I know that I am. If only I could find the courage to off myself.

I've been thinking of getting a job. Something to supplement my income and buy more dope. Maybe Appleton Methadone clinic will take me in. Green Bay said no, but they told me to try the Appleton one. Why they would not allow me back at my local clinic, but allow me to go to Valley Health services clinic.

Ahh, I never got a royality check. I don't get one until September. As far as I know I sold 300 some books. I lied because I feeling bad about myself, and thought if I told you readers that I sold a ton of books and made a bunch of money, that I would feel better, then I went on and defended my lie. All I can say is I'm a lier. The only true thing in my blog is my addiction. I do weigh 150lbs, but I don't wear a size six, I wear a size 8-9 depending on the brand. I can fit my ass into a size six, but like a commenter said they are bursting at the seams. Well that feels good, no more lies to keep up.

All my freinds who have bought the book have been facebooking me and telling me "how good they think the book is". I know they realize the book is written like a idiot with a pen. Its so embarrassing. Here on my blog I'm not too embarrassed how I write, after all most of you  hate me. I did get a comment from some anon saying he was madly in love with me. Knowing my readers it was just someone fucking with me. I know I'm unloveable. I lie, I steal, I use drugs, I live off the government, I'm a shitty writer. The list could go on and on.

I've got something interesting to tell you, about a lie I'm telling my family, but unfourtany I can't write about it on here for fear of familywould read it, and my cover would be blown.

If this person is really madly inlove with me, please email me at younganna@ymail.com
If its just another anon just fucking with me, well thanks for once leaving a comment that didn't make me feel like shit. I hope Gledwood isn't jelous as he is my  cyber husband. Perhaps it was Gledwood proclaiming his love for me in anon form. I doubt it, he would just email me it.

There is a fly attacting me right now. It true they are attracted to shit.

Well this was a shitty post. Hope you enjoy some of it.

Thursday, July 14, 2011

Crazy family

People, I'm not lieing. First off when I last checked my stats on royalties it said I had only sold somewhere around 300 books, that was only the amount of books I sold at Trafford.com, that was not including all the other book selling web sites. As far as my weight, I gained ten pounds being back at my parents home. They feed me everyday. Even on Heroin I can gain weight. I get cravings for candy on heroin too. Not just Methadone.

So aside from defending myself for making money on a book, and gaining weight. I still wear a size six.

Yesterday, my councilor didn't call back. She was off yesterday. Thanks a lot Jamie. I'm waiting for her call right now. She's in a meeting. This is all about getting back into the methadone clinic. I know the Methadone clinic isn't an answer to all my prayers, but it is a way out of active heroin addiction. Better than the Suboxone was. I used to not take my suboxone and take my dad's pills and get high. Not as high as H, but a little buzz.

I guess from now on I can't write about what I need to write about, because all my fucking family thinks they are some kind of saviors, oh I should work on another book. Fuck I already have two different books finished. I'm too lazy to send them out to publishers. They suck, and no publisher would ever take them. I know this. Why does everyone in my family who reads this shit have to make phone calls to my parents, go on and on about how fucked up Anna is. I guess I'm just entertainment to everyone. I understand that from the readers I don't know, but from family.

Wednesday, July 13, 2011

Amazon.com link to buy I Hate Myself and Want to Die by Anna Young





I want to be spanked hard by my daddy

I've been a bad girl. I used again today. Its like H is calling out to me.I called the Methadone clinic today, and told them I attempted treatment and my ex councler said she would talk to the Doctor to see if I can get back in. Thing is,  I lied about how long I was in rehab, and I lied and said I got kicked out of rehab 18 days in. In reality I walked out not even 24 hours of being there. So if they ask for proof that I was in JNC rehab for 18 days and wasn't kicked out I'm fucked. Probably fucked for life and won't be let back in ever again.

I can't go to the one in Appleton WI because my ex friend she would make up shit about me doing every thing wrong just to get me in trouble. She's like that.

The one thing I'm afraid of going back on "done" is that I'll gain the weight back. I'm down to about 165lbs. I crave sweets so much on it. Plus my parents don't want me to go back on it mainly because last time I was at too high of a dose, and was nodding out all the time. Although last time I was there they didn't up your dose so fast, and they did a peak and troft to make sure the Methadone was at a stable level, not getting you so loaded you couldn't even drive for fear of nodding out. The first time I was there they didn't do any of this, and I was at a dose of 190mgs, and I was loaded every day for a few months, until my tolerance went up. Of course the Methadone isn't as good as H, but what is? ( my opinion)
In other news, Gledwood chopped his hair, and died it blond, bleach blond. He also got a new pair of specks. I know he wants his privacy, and doesn't want to post any photos, but I sure wish I could I see this new Gledwood. He also said in one of his post that he was meek like a mouse. I would have never figured him as meek, from his blog. He's so open on his blog. Perhaps not as open as me, but that's a good thing. I'm in deep shit with my readers for lieing about my suicide.


I wish I could tell you more, but certain people are reading and hindering my open ness. Is that one word or two words? This is why I want to start a new blog. It would take time to get readers, get good stats, make up a good name.

There is so much going on in my life right now, and I can't ever write about it. Knowing my aunti will call my parents and tell them that I'm using, and that I'm haning out in a shooting galary all day. I have to ride my bike there everyday. My parents don't let me use the car after the whole Jose thing.
Oh yes, I've been watching True Blood, and Big Brother. Sunday nights are the best night on TV.

Sunday, July 10, 2011

lick me up.

Screw it, I can't hide my new blog, so I'm just going to tell you whats going on. I've been using again. I have some friends that would let me move in with them for only 150 dollars a month. I just can't figure out how to tell my parents that I'm moving out. I have it really good here aside from being treated like a teenager. I know my parents have no reason to trust me, and only want the best for me. I'm just finding this addiction very hard to over come.

There is this rehab in California called Passages, and they don't believe in the 12 steps program. I don't believe in the 12 steps either, and I really want to go to this rehab. There is no way me nor my parents would be able to afford it.  I always see commercials for it during intervention. I wish there were more treatment programs that didn't involve the 12 steps. I have step on down, I know I have a problem, and my life has become unmanageable. Drugs have a hold on me. I'm letting my parents down, I'm letting my family down. I wish I would just over dose.

I spent all my money for this month, so I'm going to have to go sick until the first. A good time to quit, don't you think. I'll be over the sickness in three to four days, but then comes the cravings. I find the cravings the hardest to overcome. Don't get me wrong being sick sucks, and I'm a big baby when it comes to it. I do have a friend who helps me out when I'm craving really bad. 

Lately I haven't been able to find a single vein, so I've been skin popping all my shots. It really sucks. I'm so inpatient. I'm sure if I sat there and took the time I could find a vein, but I just want that high. My friend has this one vein that he's been using ever since he started shooting up, and it still gushes. I used to have this on gusher, now there is so much scar tissue over it, that the needle would have to be two inches long ( maybe not that long) still I would need a long needle to get through all that tissue. The veins on my hands are all cashed. Plus I can't go into my hands because my parents would notice right away.

My parents said this time if they find out I'm using they are calling the cops. I don't think you can go to jail just for being high. They have to find drugs on you, or syringes, a spoon with cotton in it that has traces of H still in it. I never leave paraphernalia laying around. I never use at my house. I found a secret location to use. I never get so high that I'm nodding out during the day, I wait until my parents are asleep.

I know if I moved out, my parents they would be disappointed, and worried. I'm thinking of going to the diversion house, its for people with mental illnesses. Since I have bi polar, and when I was in Brown County Mental Health they told me if I wanted I could have a bed there. That is if I had decided not to go to rehab. Instead I opted for rehab. STUPID! I was there less than twenty four hours. What the hell is going through rehab again going to do for me. A flippen 12 step rehab for Christ sake. I know that they tell you if you want to stay clean you have to go to meetings. I mean NA or AA meetings. I hate talking about my drug use when I'm not using. All it does is make me want to use. Sitting in a group all day talking about how using has ruined our lives, and having asshole patients aka clients "carefront" you and tell you what they think is hindering you from staying sober bugs the heck out of me. I have no idea how people get through 28 days of treatment. Plus there is no treatments around here that are duel diagnosis. The closest one is in Madison. I had a bed there once, but like the idiot that I am, I didn't go. Still it was a 12 step program. I hate to repeat myself, but I just don't believe in the 12 steps.

They say, at around forty years old people get sick of being an addict, and that's when they really want to make a change. For whatever reason I just don't want to change who I am. Even though I hate myself. I think that if H were legal I wouldn't hate myself so much. I feel like such a loser that a substance has such control over me, and I'm consistently disappointing the people I love.

I've been sharing needles and cookers. I don't care if I get HIV. Actually I want HIV. I'd probably still outlive my parents. I know that sounds sick, and demented. Don't get me wrong I feel bad for those people out there who are HIV+ or have AIDS and wish they negative. I just don't deserve to be healthy. Still getting HIV would devastate my parents and family members. I wish my family would give up on me. I just want to be free. If Jose would have never robbed that damn store I would be free. I had moved out, and was doing just fine. My dad still called three or four times a day, but I was free to do as I pleased. Its not as if I were doing good, God fearing things, like going to church every Sunday, and reading the bible on my free time. I was getting H, using H, finding money for H, and then repeating the routine.

Jose wasn't really my boyfriend, he was more of a using partner. We looked out for each other. When one of us didn't have money to score, the other one did. Then he started using Coke, and in my opinion coke leads to nothing but jail. Its the worst drug there is out there. That's the drug snob talking. Still every experience I've ever had with coke has lead to a jail cell. So I stay as far away from that stuff as I can. If I were to move out, and one of my roommates started using coke I would be out of there so flippen fast. I would go to the homeless shelter.

If I did move out I wouldn't be able to blog very often. Like I blog a lot right now. I've been busy figuring out a way to get high. I would still go to the library and update this damn thing every now and again.

Oh yes, when I tried to commit suicide on here, so many of you said you wouldn't follow my blog anymore, and I've gained three readers. I was sure I would lose at least half my readers, but I didn't. I perhaps lost some of my lurkers. I know I pissed off a lot of people with my first apology by telling everyone to fuck off. I just felt like that at the time. I felt like why the hell do you people care so much if I live or die? All I am to you is words on a voodoo screen. A bad writer. A illiterate book writer. I got so many mean comments after I told everyone to fuck off that I just started reading my comments again. I still have a ton of haters out there. I don't get why everyone still calls me fat? I've lost almost 70lbs. I weigh one hundred and forty pounds now. I haven't posted any photos, because I pawned my camera. I fit into a size 6 jeans. I still wear a size 38 C bra. I still have a bubble but. Probably why so many black men hit on me. Not that I don't like the attention. As most of you can tell from my blog I'm an attention whore. The number one thing I hate about my personality. I hate other attention whores, and when I see it in someone else it makes me sick, and to know I have that character flaw bothers me to no end. So, point is when you call me fat it doesn't hurt my feelings anymore. I'm finally thin. Not as thin as I'd like to be, I'd like to be 120lbs. Wear a size two. If I keep on going as I am on H, I will be down to a size zero. They say coke makes you skinny, but I find H makes me skinner. As soon as I get a new camera I will put new photos of my new body. And no I don't have extra skin. My skin shrunk back to it original size. I do have stretch marks on my thighs, and lower back, and a few on my stomach next to my belly button. I've has stretch marks on the sides of my breasts since I got breasts. They aren't bad though. The ones on my thighs and lower back, and stomach are not dark, or thick, they are light and thin. Thank God.

Its really hot here in Green Bay WI. If I move out I won't have air conditioning, or cable TV anymore. I will still have my cell phone, because I pay for that. I would miss my baby girl Eleanor Rigby, but I know she's in good hands.

Drugs, drugs, moving out, losing weight, admitting I'm an attention whore, blah, blah. I wonder how someone can read this crap. Actually I just looked at my visit lenghtes, and I'm at 61% less than 5secs. Normally I'm at around 50 to forty for less than 5 seconds. Maybe its because I haven't been keeping up on my blog much, or its because I've lost a lot of readers due to my stupidity. As you can tell I'm really stupid, I couldn't even create a new blog without linking it to this one. As an anon commenter pointed and called me an idiot.

I know my family is going to read this and be all up in my business. Just kick me out of the house. Make me fend for myself. I've been spoiled and babied for too long. I need to learn to make it in the real world. I know I'm lucky to have a family that cares so much for me, I just feel like I'm being smothered.

Just out of curiosity how many of you have bought my book, I Hate Myself and Want to Die? I know those of you who read the preview I blogged that was unedited left many people thinking "my god this book is the worst". Well the book has been edited, I'm not saying its the best book in the word. Its definitely not even one of the top million. I know I've sold 800 books so far, it tells you how many you sold on mytrafford.com you need to know my email and password. I was just wondering if anyone who reads this blog bought the book. If I knew how to put up a link I would. Gledwood put up an advertisement on his blog (thank you for that Gleds) Still I don't know how to put up a link where you can just click on the picture of the book and be brought to Amazon or Barns and Noble, or even Trafford.com.

My book still isn't on ebook. It says its still in production. You would think it would be easier to publish an ebook, than to publish a paperback. The ebook is only going to cost 9.99 US dollars. The paperback costs 15.04 US dollars. I don't know if this will get you to buy the book, but if you would like I'm willing to sign them. If you would like me sign the book just email me at younganna@ymail.com and I'll give you my home address, and I'll sign my name, and thanks for buying the worst written book in the world. It is a first edition. I know that a local book store called the Attic bought 40 books, but they got the bulk rate which means I only make 15% roalityes, otherwise I make 20% roalityes.

 
I think if you click on that, it will bring you to www.amazon.com and you can buy the book in paperback if you like.
 
I hate the picture on the front. First off the wrists are slit the wrong way. I wanted the picture on the back cover to be the picture on the front cover. Instead the production people wanted that cover. They thought the picture of the girl hanging herself was too macabre, but a picture of hand with slit wrists isn't? WTF. I think it looks too much like a Million Little pieces. Which by the way, was a much better book. Oh yes, I have the book under fiction, because I used real names in it. It is a memoir. Most of it is true, but some parts have been embellished. Like pulling down my sweat pants in Pete's car and stashing a cigarette cellophane with Valium in it and putting it in my "glorious vagina" I actually put the Valium up my crotch before Pete even got there to pick me up and bring me to turn myself in. Also the part about picking my nose and eating it when I got out of jail, not true. I did pick my nose, and wipe it in the smoke shack, but I stopped eating my boogers when I was 5. Yeah right! Gross I know. A good booger is tasty every now and again.
 
With that, I just really want to say I'm sorry again. I want to thank my close cyber friends, Gleds, Guy in the silk taffeta dress, Sarcastic Bastard, Tatyanna, and all you anonymous lurkers, even the haters. I write my journal online because I love attention.

Moving into a shooting galary would be so nice right now

I'm so sick. I want to move out on my own and I have a place to go, but I don't want to hurt my parents. I just wish the Methadone clinic would take me back. I wish I could move back into the shooting galary. There was always someone there with dope. Someone willing to give you a taste to get well, as long as you share yours when you've go dope.

I started a new blog. So I can talk about all my escapades. Where I go what I do. I can't say the name of the blog. Hopefully someone will figure it out. I'll still update this one.

Wednesday, July 6, 2011

Jose commits armed robbery and goes to jail

I hate this life. I hate what I've done to myself. Rewiring my brain to crave opiates. I hate that I faked my death and upset so many of you. I hate that SB hates me. Gledwood no longer believes a word I write. Life just sucks. I'm going to buy a four bags of H and off myself. I would rather go out that way than to shoot myself. Even though a gun to the head is the most sure way to die. No narcan to bring you back from the brink of death. I'm not going to say if I used or not, because of nosey family members. I am even considering starting a new blog, hidden from the sight of family. Most of my family wishes I would just delete this blog, but I'm too vain to do that. I used to burn my journal's full of poetry when I was younger, but that was shit poetry. Some of what I wrote on this blog is at least interesting. Not all of it of course.

Like I would really kill myself. How many times is that, that I've threatened to off myself. If I was really going to do it, I would just get it over with already.

We, as in my mother, father and myself, along with Eleanor Rigby might be moving to Janesville WI, which is on the boarder of Illinois. My mom hasn't gotten the job yet, so I don't know if we are moving. We also may be going back to Hawaii this winter. My dad keeps telling me he's not going to let me out of his sight. Fucking A, I'm almost 30 years old, and they treat me like I'm 15. That's a 15 year difference. I may not be as mature as most 30 year olds. Still I have the right to move out. I have a place to go. Still I can't hurt my parents by moving out on them. I did it once, and Jose goes and robs a store, leaving me behind. It wasn't like Jose was the best guy in the world. Two people with addictions should not be together. His addiction was Coke, and from what I've seen of Coke it always brings you down a shit ton faster than heroin. At least that's my opinion. He robbed a store and got around 300 bucks. First thing he did with that money was go buy coke. Shitty coke. Even though I was dope sick, and he could have fixed me, he went and bought coke. That sounded selfish. Coke is more expensive than heroin. He bought a 100 dollars worth of coke, and it cost 50 dollars for a bag of H. I guess he's the one who robbed the store, I shouldn't expect him to buy me anything. Fuck I don't want to use stolen money.

Jose Oded on 2 bags of H. Yes, he did use H every now and then, but he was on Methadone, and I assume the mixture of methadone and heroin made him more prone to an overdose.

My friend had her baby. I haven't mentioned her in my blog, because she is someone my parents consider off limits. I haven't been able to see the baby because my parents don't let me leave the house. No my friend is not Meghan. She says I'm dead to her now. IN fact she is doing everything in her power to get me put in jail. Unlucky for her I haven't done anything illegal. I wasn't with Jose when he robbed the store, and I didn't even know Jose was going to rob a store.

Can you tell I'm obsessed with this robbery. I just wish he would have been smarter than that. Did he really think he wasn't going to get caught. I herd through the grapevine that he's getting forty years which he took as a plea deal. I doubt he'll actually sit forty years. His public defender has to do something to keep him from sitting that long.

I keep getting calls from the jail from Jose. He wants me to put money on his books, he says he's hungry. Jail food is atrocious.

I got to go and read my favorite blogs. Sorry for ranting on and on about Jose, and not telling you about what's going on in my life. Seriously though I need to start a new blog. Yet on the back of my book it gives this address to get people to read my blog.