Tuesday, August 30, 2011

In Greenville NC

I'm in Greenville North Carolina. We left Friday at 5am. Leaving Green Bay WI behind, along with my heroin connections was painful. The last time I got high was on Thursday night. Now I'm down in the dumps from depression from withdrawal. I feel like I can't put one foot in front of the other.

On our way down here we stopped in Memphis TN, to see Graceland. You know, where Elvis lived. While there I just wished I was high so I could enjoy it. I'm so pathetic I can't enjoy anything with out some heroin for liquid courage. Liquid life. Anyway, Graceland was a lot smaller than shown on TV. Its a real tourist attraction. Head phones and everything to give the tour. Of course you weren't allowed upstairs in the bathroom where Elvis died.

When I go to Seattle I want to see the house that Courtney and Kurt lived in. I know they tore down the garage with the green room above it where he killed himself, but some of his ashes are under a tree there.

Greenville is pretty fucking boring. Although we did get a nice apartment with two swimming pools. A dog run, work out rooms. Its almost like our condo in Green Bay. One thing nice I can say about Greenville is that it smells really good. I think all of the mid south of America smells good. Really grassy.

The only reason I am able to blog right now is because I found some of my dad's percocets and am feeling a bit better. I'm setting up an appointment to get into the methadone clinic. I know I hated the Methadone clinic last time I was on it, but I've had enough of using. I just want to be happy, to put one foot in front of the other.

We don't get to move into these new apartments until Saturday, so right now we are in a small hotel room. It has a separate bedroom for me, but its ultra small. Poor Eleanor hates it. I think we all do. Fuck I can actually smile now that the pills are kicking in.

I haven't been able to read my blogs, so I'm lost on everything. I miss my dearest Gledwood most. He's on an upswing, while I'm down in the dumps. I just want to get on this Methadone, get moved into the nice apartment, swim, workout, play with Eleanor. Methadone is my great mood stabilizer. I wish it worked like that for Gleds.

Oh yes, and how could I go by without mentioning my book, now available for ebooks, only 7.99 on Barns and noble.com or bn.com. Normally it would be 9.99. Its also available on Amazon.com for Kindle. I know who cares.

Just wanted to let you all know I'm thinking of you. I love my readers. This blog has gone to hell. When I'm on dope I'm not blogging and when I'm off dope I'm not blogging. I just can't bring myself to blog. I can't put words in a beautiful way. It makes me sick how horrible my blog is. My book too for that matter. Still buy it. I need money to get to Seattle.

Tuesday, August 23, 2011

Anna Young's memoir ebook

My memoir, I Hate Myself and Want to Die, by Anna Young is finally available in ebook format Click here to purchase my book. 

Bi Polar oppisites attract

Yesterday I was just about to be clean two full days, until I went into my drawer where I keep my works, and found a rather large peice of heroin. Here heroin comes in chunks like rock cocain, but its brown...most of the time. So I shot up that chunk and got a good buzz. The night before I didn't sleep because of withdrawl, so after the H kicked in I fell asleep for 18 hours. I watched a movie first. BTW, there is this actor Joe Anderson who looks identical to Kurt Cobain. I wonder if he'll play him in the bio pic?

Today I'm going to be clean, I have no money and no prospects for money. I don't mind being sick that much anymore. Its just apart of being a stupid junkie. Also I'm in a up swing mood wise. Mania bring it on. I love you. You make me less sick, happy, feel like love is in my life. I don't want to kill myself for once in a long time. I know a crash willl come, but fuck it I'm happy now.  I went off my meds, to bring on a manaia. I knew it was my meds keeping me down. I need a med adjustment, but thats unlikely because I'm moving to North Carolina. Leaving Friday for the drive down there. I wonder if I'll find an H hook up?

If I do all junkies rejoice. Otherwise I can Doctor shop in NC, or go back to the Methadone clinic.

Sunday, August 21, 2011

Costs more money to go through a middle man to buy heroin

I'm clean one day. I'm not even that sick. Well the days not over and I have people who owe me money and maybe I can get some dope that way.  Aside from that I'm in a pretty good mood, for once. We are leaving for North Carolina in a few days. I'm getting away from these damn people and drugs.

I'm not to excited to go to Greenville NC, but its my best bet to get clean. I've been making poor choises in the money department. Doing things I used to do to get drugs. Things you know if you read my book.

I lanced my abcess it was awesome. Gray and green puss oozed out for minutes. I went to the doctor and he cleaned it out the rest of the way. Man that thing is deep. I have to pack gauze in it every few hours. The doctor tried to scare me from doing drugs by saying I could have lost my right arm if I let it go on as it was.

My dealer isn't answering his phone, So I've had to go thru a middle person who I have to share with. Which sucks.

Wednesday, August 17, 2011

I wouldn't be a hero if I wasn't such a zero

It seems to me that the only way I can deal with life is high on heroin. Without it I'm  suicidal maniac. On it I get excited about things again. I can watch TV without being depressed, I get excited about movies. Now I'm missing all that stuff  because all my money is going towards junk.

I'm moving to Greenville North Carolina for three months on the 27th, so hopefully I'll get away from this shit. I'm so sick of myself.  I have a big abscess on my right arm. Now forever I'll have a scar yet another scare to remind me of what a fuck up I am.
If anyone on here who doesn't hate me lives in North Carolina and wants to make a friend a loser friend just email me. I swear I'll make you feel better about yourself.

I'm going with my mom and dad to North Carolina. Fuck am I spelling it wrong? They won't let me stay in their apartment alone again after what happened with Jose and the drugs. The drugs, the drugs, the fucking drugs.

Why don't I play an instrument, I want to be in a band so fucking bad. I've written one song about my dog Eleanor. It goes I got a puppy, I named her Eleanor, I got a puppy I named her Eleanor.

I want to fall in love, and replace that need I feed inside me for love with heroin. I want to kiss in the moonlight. I wanna hold hands in the dark. I want someone who loves Elliott Smith as much as I do. I want someone to help me get inspired to write a good fiction book. Like that's possible. Me writing something good. LOL.

I'm getting so fucking old. I have no life outside of my using. I have no friends outside my using friends. Sign up with evil.  I am evil. The devil has needles in his eyes. I should have needles in my eyes.  I'm just so fucking depressed. I got high today, but its 2am now and its worn off, now I'm down in the dumps.

You know Gledwood, your the only one who has ever stuck by me. Even after I hurt you after my fake suicide. If only we weren't an ocean apart. If only you didn't think me nuts. If only is all it will ever be.

I've been crying in the bathroom. I drop to my knees and just weep. I turn to gold. I freeze. I weep, and weep.

Thursday, August 11, 2011

Nothing more to write, I don't have the right

I have nothing to talk about except drug abuse. I know your sick of hearing about that so I'll just not blog until I have soemthing to say.

Monday, August 8, 2011

You think everything is a lie. It is not.

So my computer went to shit on me. So know I'm using a hp mini, and I can't get used to the keyboard. I brought my computer in to get fixed they said my memory board wasn't working, or was failing. Which would cost more to fix than to buy a new computer. So my next check from SSDI I'm going to buy a new computer. I also get my royalty check in September. I'm sure it not going to be over 100 dollars. My first one was bigger because everyone I know or have known in highschool and thru jobs has bought the book.

By the way, I got a comment saying that I've never had a hard time as a junkie. I have lived on my own, I have been homeless, I had jobs where all the money went to drugs. I've pawned everything worth anything in the past, I've pan handled, I have had sex for money. I've committed felonies, I've been to jail, I stole money from my boyfriend to buy drugs. If you were to read my book you have a handle on the lifestyle that I glamorize so much. I guess I just like the lifestyle. I'm an outsider. I'm an anti heroine. I'm socially despised underclass of society.

I may be an idiot, and an attention whore, but I find that using the one drug most people won't touch sets me apart from the crowd. In real life I don't talk about my drug addiction much. I wear long sleeves even when Its 100 degrees outside to keep others from seeing that I use needles and have tracks up and down my arms. Although when I'm riding the bus and my sleeve creeps up and I see someone looking at my track marks I find that in a way I'm sorta proud, they can see the wounds of a pain I feel inside and the tracks are the only thing on me that shows that pain inside me. Yet I know that those that see those wounds don't think of a pain deep down inside. All they see is what they want to see.

Just like all you anonymous commenter's who think that I'm stupid, and crave attention in real life. In actuality I'm very quiet and shy. I hate to talk about myself, I hate cutting in on someone who is talking. I hate it when I see someone who is not listening and just waiting for their turn to talk. If you were to meet me in real life you would be surprised. I dress like I'm homeless, I hardly ever wear makeup, I don't brush my hair everyday, I don't use toothpaste when i brush my teeth. I'm the opposite of what you think I am. When in  group of people getting their photo taken I duck out. Although I love getting my picture taken. I keep no-one too close to me. I have no attachments to possessions, and non to other people aside from my parents. Although I could pick up and leave today to go to Washington and not be the least bit lonely, or at least no more lonely than I am already. I hate to buy things I don't need. I have one pair of holey jeans, about five black pants, and five t-shirts, and five long sleeve t-shirts. I change my clothes three ties a week, when I shower.

I love Sunday's because I get to be alone and watch Big Brother on CBS, and True Blood on HBO. I prefer to be alone. I prefer to go to the library by bike or bus, and read ALONE, I like to get high alone. Pretty much the only time I want to talk is when I'm high, but I don't expect anyone to listen to me.

You may think you know me, you may think that I'm an attention whore, but this is just a blog. It doesn't represent who I really am. Sure I do have friends, non close friends. I keep people at a distance, even my parents. I love my dog very, very much, but if I had a ticket and knew she would be well taken care of if I left I would pick up and leave her behind. I don't depend on a man for attention, I don't feel like I need a man or a woman to make me worth while. I'm not worth while. I'm not special. When I get a comment that says I'm just an attention whore I laugh to myself. If anyone of you who knew me you'd laugh too. The people who know me laugh at these comments too.

The reason my family doesn't comment on my blog is because they are embarrassed of my blog persona. Sure some of your comments hurt my feelings, mainly when I' getting my period.

My dealer thinks I'm too quiet and at first didn't trust me. I wish I were less introverted, everyone seems to be having more fun than I am. I realize this is my fault. The only place I can really cut loose is in words. Its why I keep a journal, its why I blog, it why I keep 20 note books full of short stories with a chacter named Victoria. She is my alter ego. When I become manic I'm more like my alter ego Victoria.

I like True Blood so much, is because I want to be Sookie. She's perfect in my eyes. I like to read Sookie's stories. 

I've been using again, still just a chip, but if I keep it up I'll be a strung out junkie again.

Wednesday, August 3, 2011

move on with your life

I wrote that post in haste and in hatred. I'm sick of people trying to stifel my creative outlet. The best thing my parents could do is kick my ass out, and I plan on moving out as soon as my money is setteled. Normally I'm not a drama queen. I was just very pissed off. I will not stop blogging in my name, and no I didn't post on my mother's facebook about my book. My mom puts up clips of my book all the time. I can't stop her.

To the guy who said the book was poorly writen, as in Judy Blume on crack, you obviously never read the book, and if you did thanks for buying it. You just made me 20 percent of 15.04. If all you read was my blurb then you have no idea what the book is about because I changed a lot of things in the editing process.

I write, Its what I do. No one can stop me from doing such a thing. The fact that I'm not afraid to use my real name, and not some anonymous name gives me the guts to be truthfull. Under an anon writer, I could be some hack from Idaho who just makes up everything.

As most of you know by now, I'm not going to kill myself. I'm too chicken shit. So to all of you who are offended by what I write just go away. Read my stats, I get over 200 hits a day, and more than half stay for an hour. What I'm writing is resonating with people.

I do not apologize to my aunt, because she wants me to shut down the blog. Not like that's going to stop me from what I'm doing. Its not going to stop my suicidal ideations.

I went to the bar the other day, with a guy I've been seeing, and he reads this shit, but he never mentions it to anyone, he keeps it to himself. He understands its like a journal. A journal for all to read.

Yes, I'm 28 and yes I shouldn't able to live with my parents. I try to tell them, and they think if they let me go I'll just get worse. Maybe I will maybe I won't. I applied for a part time job in a coffee shop today, and I've got a plan to move to the pacific northwest.

I can't help if my mom plugs my book on Facebook. My family is dysfunctional, I'll be the first to admit, but we love each other.
I just can't stand being told to shut up about my life. I tried to end my blog, and guess what, no one believed me. I never had so many hits in the three days that was posted, and how many FB friend request I got just to see if I was alive. Your obsessed with me, and I didn't ask for that. Just read what i write. That's what a blog is for.

I made up a new dance move, its called move the fuck on with your life.

Tuesday, August 2, 2011

Aunt Debbie, no I'm not taking it down.

I have this aunt who thinks if she reads this blog she is going to save my life. No matter if the blog is all lies or all truth it is non of your business. Yes I'm calling you out Aunt Debbie. I no longer want anything to do with you. Its my life and I'll live and write about it as I like. You think your saving me, your stifling me. I have one creative outlet and its this blog. I have readers, and those readers buy books. Your a nosey, stupid bitch. Stop reading the blog, and that goes out to everyone who thinks that by reading this blog your going to help me. You think you know me so fucking well. You have no idea. Go ahead and try to put me in brown county for 90 days. Sooner or later I'll be taken off 15 min checks, and put on hour checks, and then I'll hang myself. Be prepared to take responsibility for a suicide because your a nosey bitch.

I seriously want nothing to do with you ever again. Leave me the fuck alone. Yes, I'm doing this in a public format, because you can't keep shit to yourself. I dared my parents to read the whole blog, but they wouldn't. I wonder why, because they are afraid of finding out the truth, or what I make up as my own truth. I'm not going to stop writing because you think its your place to call my family and tell them what you think. You and my dad, can be prudes all you want. I"m not stopping this blog. Most day's all I have to look forward to is blogging.

So go fuck yourself, wait I'm sure your afraid to masturbate.

Defending my glamorizing of Heroin as a junkie

Last night was an interesting night. I bought 4 bags of H, two for me, one for a girl friend, and one for a guy friend. I also borrowed money to my guy friends girlfriend. As I said in my comment on the last post under anonymous I said I don't have much of a habbit any more. All I get is the shits when I'm out of dope. I usually only do half a shot when I'm using, and I get loaded off it. Yesterday though I did a full shot, 1/4 gram. I missed, and thought I was just really high, until I fell out, and no one could wake me up. They said my breathing was labored, and they through water on my face, slapped me, shook me, through me in the cold shower.
The shower didn't wake me up. Just as they were going to call the ambulance I came too from being so freezing cold and everyone slapping me. I had ODed. Unfortunately there were people around to get me to come around. If I had brought that shot home with me, and took it at around 8pm after my parents went to bed I would be dead right now. I'd be free from this realm of caring that boulder up the hill and then going back down the hill and back up again. I'd be in for the big sleep.

As I said I have another bag of H just waiting for me. I think I'm going to wait 48 hours before I use again,, so I don't get another habit. Just keep a chip. I'm still going to do the bag at around 8pm at home after my parents go to bed. I might even buy another bag just to make sure I don't wake up.

Some may say this is a cry for help. Telling people my plan. This isn't the first time I've ODed. Although it is the first time being shoved in a cold shower and not woken up. It was the most painless way to die. I just stop breathing.

Another thing, is people always say if I were a real junkie I wouldn't glamorize my usage so much. Perhaps I'm not you average junkie. Or should I say chipper now. If only you people could see my track marks, could see how I have no veins left to use. Which is why I had to skin pop yesterday, and didn't fall out in a few seconds. I fell out in a few minutes.

Did I ever say in my post about the nut house that I was going through withdrawals? No, I said I was thinking about using. That I was having cravings. Big difference. Thinking about suicide calms me down. Which is why I'm so calm right now. I probably won't do myself in with that 1/4 of a bag in the next 48 hours.  I'll do half the bag like normal people who don't want to die.

I've lied on this blog before. I said I would never do it again. I swear I will never do it again. I'm just being honest. No more bull shit. I am a junkie, I'm just not strung out anymore. Going to the nut house two times in the past two months has kept me from getting strung out. As a matter of a fact I would rather have a chip than be strung out. Although I still wake up thinking about dope, and fall asleep thinking about dope. I think that would qualify me as a junkie. If you think you have to be stung out to be a junkie then so be it. I've been strung out before, and I know it sucks. I've also detoxed off 140mgs of Methadone in jail. I know what its like to be sick. So sick it seems like your life is going to end.

I'm sick and tired of people questioning my use. Even if I put up  photo with me and a needle in my arm, still some would call bullshit, because I lied twice on here. Once about having relapsed, and once about my own suicide. Two lies. I've always come out and told you I was lieing.

As for the nut house, to go more in depth. Your locked in the phyc ward, nothing to do but read, watch TV, and talk to other crazy people. Some so crazy you can't even hold a conversation with. A lot of the people in there are in there for public drunkenness. So they come in all pissed up, and are let out as soon as they blow zeros. Usually I'm the only girl in there that's not disgusting so I get hit on a lot by the boys, and even some of the girls. The past two times I've been in there, I got four phone numbers, and am now friends with two on Face Book. I even text the 21 year old who kissed me in the hallway. I don't normally keep in touch with the nuts, but this one came from my hometown, and he seemed pretty normal except for the suicidal thoughts.

That's enough defending myself and my drug usage for now. Yes I do glamorize my usage because I love being high. My life seems like less of a shit hole.