Friday, June 29, 2012

Possiable new house

This house is in Green Bay in the Astor Park area. It was built in 1883 by a doctor with a wife and three sons. Try to ignore the decor. The men who are selling the home are very into antiques. Almost every piece of furniture in the house is antique. Exceptions, the media room, office, the top floor aka what would/will be my room, and the kitchen are all more modren.

 Below are the only photos I could find of this house online. There are number of rooms that are not shown in the photos I found. It’s missing two bedrooms, three bathrooms, the office, the sun room off the kitchen, and there are no pics of the interior maid’s quarters. No photos of the coy pond in the far back right yard. In one photo of the side right yard, if you look close you can see the statue. There is a big tree in the front yard with a bench built around it. There are not photos of the back porch, or the back side of the left yard. You can't see the front gates, or the fenced in yard. There is just so much, I can't wait to go back with my camera phone and take more photos.

From these photos you might think this house is an exonerate amount, but it is priced at the very affordable 224,900 thousand dollars. If my parents didn't buy this house they would be fools. Still it’s their money, and they can buy whatever house they would like. If we do get this house, we would keep some of the antique feel, but modernize some parts. This house is a landmark, so you can't make any changes to the house structure, inside or out. So it would all be decor changes.


Front of house view from right. The tree on the right is the tree with a wraparound bench. I was wrong you can see the front gate surrounding the front of the house.

View of front yard from the left, shows working water fountain, and amazing landscaping

Here is another view of the front yard on the left side of house. That pole is a light, and the path leads to the back of the house left side. Where the back poarch is.

Walkway on left side of the house leading to the back porch off the sun room. Path way is lighted at night.

View of the right side of the yard, in this picture you can see the bench that wraps around the tree if you look closely. In the distance you can see the statue, again amazing land scapeing.

First formal sitting room off the entrance. The current owners have it so filled with antiques and furniture you really have to see the house in person to imagine how it would look with less furniture, and diffrent decorations.

Second Formal sitting room, with view into formal dining area. Notice the fake dog...weird!

The drawing room second floor.

Formal dining area, you can't see the hallway leading to kitchen, or main floor bedroom in this photo. If they has put up a picture on the right side of table you would see the hallway.

First flight of stairs right off the entrance way.

Media room second level.

Main floor bed room.

Second floor Master Bedroom

Master bedroom vanity behind is dressing room, shower, a small room with toilet, etc...

The master bedroom bathtub, in the pic you can't see the chandelier.

Top floor game room, which would be my room, this is the front of the room, which I would make a sitting area.

The top floor room, back, where I would put my bed. There is no photo of the huge full bathroom.

View from top floor down the stair case.

Another bedroom, not sure which floor.

Kitchen, pic does not show sunroom off the kitchen.

Make something clear.

Just an update, and to clear up a contradiction. In my post, "Bummer Bitch" I had said I was going to see a suboxone dr. This is not true. I have no intention of ever going back on suboxone. No intention of getting off methadone for a long time.

The reason I said I was going on suboxone is because, the crazy person who found my blog and emailed, and called me over 50 times to get them heroin. I explained to them I no longer had a main man, I now went through a middle man, because I am on MMT. So after numours calls, texts, and emails, I gave in and gave them the last phone number I had for a main dealer. I had no idea if this was still the number. Anyway, I've told this story. This person goes to pick up the dope, and they ended up getting ripped off. They blamed me, thought I was in on it. To punish me they called my clinic and told them I ripped them off. I just wanted this person to think I was no longer going to the clinic so they wouldn't show up there to beat me up, or key my car, etc... so I just said I got kicked out.

Out of the clear blue...

Life, wow! That's all I can think right now. I don't want to make a reader uncomfortable, but I just have to write about this experience.

I got a call early this morning from a person I have not heard from in years. A person I knew for maybe three weeks way back when. This person was asking questions about Methadone treatment and clinics. This person didn't want to tell where they were living. It was all very odd. I wanted to help, but I wasn't really able to. This person found me through my blog. I don't so much mind that this person is reading my blog, but to call out of the clear blue and ask strange questions evading my questions. I really have to figure out where my phone number is visible, because this is the second time someone has called asking for help with drugs. The first one I had to get a restraining order against. I doubt this person will be a problem, but I really hope they deleted my phone number from my phone.

Anyway, this person was vague about where they were living. So I went to my stat counter, and I have all the people from Green Bay, De Pere, and Oconto Falls ISPs labeled to keep track of the local lunatics, and possible family members reading whom I've banned. So I figured out what city this person is probably living in. So I texted this person, and said something to the effect of, “I can tell where you are reading from, and I had narrowed it down to two cities. Wtf is going on; you call out of the clear blue. Are you ok? Then I gave some advice about clinics."

This person reply’s with something to the effect of, "I'm not interested in hooking up, I was just curious how your recovery is going. Blah, blah, blah".

Where this person got the idea I wanted to hook up is beyond me. I explained that I did not want to hook up either. Then I asked a question about recovery, got an answer, and then another weird text. Something to the effect, " look I don't know you, and you don't know me so don't judge me." So I just texted back, "Okay. Hope your recovery goes well. Bye." Then a reply saying sorry for bothering you.

If this person happens to read this, I just want to say sorry for writing about it. I just found it really strange, and the fact that you thought I wanted to hook up. Where did that come from? Aside from that, you're correct we don't know each other. When we did the stuff we did we were really just aquantinences, and fueled by drugs. We bonded over pharmaceuticals that's all there was to it. I'm very clear about that. I don't mind if you read my blog, or even leave comments or emails, (Everyone, I'm allowing anonymous comments again, for just a few days to see how it goes.) but please do not call or text me again. I have deleted your number and the texts. I hope you do the same. I'm not mad, just really weirded out. You must understand the last person who called me who was a reader of my blog; I ended up having to get a restraining order against. I really have to get my phone number off the internet.

Enough about that. I'm wondering if other bloggers have weird things like that happen to them, or is just me? I know I've done some stupid stuff with this blog, and things like the stalker and an old aquataince calling my phone are my fault. I put my number out there, but I never expected anyone to call. These types of things make me want to go back to a different blog, where when you Google my name this blog doesn't come up. Of course that would mean I would have to delete this blog entirely, which I cannot do. That would be like throwing away five years of journals. I've lost enough of my writing from my teenage years, I don't want to lose anymore. It would be pointless for me to go back to the two blogs I created when I tried to stop blogging here. I just couldn't stick with it; I reach a much larger audience on this blog. My need for attention is somewhat fulfilled by this blog.

New subject. I've haven't use h in almost a month. The low dose rapid release Adderall is doing some good. I'm getting a lot of things done that before I would only do half way, and then move on to something different. So far I haven't had any side effects that would cause me concern. I'm not depressed at all. In fact I'm looking forward to the futer. Even making plans. Something I don't do very often, and if I do, I set unrealistic goals and when I don't accomplish them I hate myself and want to die. As a matter of fact I haven't been living in my head too much lately. The Adderall makes me talkative so as I'm thinking I'm speaking. Well, I'm living in my head, but I'm not obsessing about myself and going over every little move I make, word I say or write, etc. I've been really focused on quantum physics, mainly black holes. Where the laws of physics break down. I don't understand everything about such a complex subject, but I get the nuts and bolts. I find it fun to imagine what possibilities there are. There is a famous quote, live isn't a puzzle to be solved, it’s something to be lived. I don't agree. Can't we do both?

I catch myself reading a lot of blogs. Making more comments on blogs. Answering comments on my blog. I've been developing characters; meanwhile, I'm re reading One Flew over the Cuckoo's Nest to study the writer’s techniques. Ken Kesy is a good writer. Great characters, with rich backgrounds. I have so many new books to read that I haven't read yet, but I just happened to catch One Flew over the Cuckoo's Nest on cable, and decided to give a re-read. It’s a quick read. I am almost finished with it already and I started it yesterday afternoon. I read today while my parents looked at the house we are bidding on right now.

This house was built in 1893, and it’s huge. Four floors, five bedrooms, and four and a half baths. A brand new kitchen. When we go back there next week I will take pictures and post them in a blog post. The house even has a name. "The Pink Lady". I could live on the top floor of the house, and my parents could have the bottom two. We could share the middle floor. Plus there are the maid’s quarters in the back yard, which I could live in, or use as a writer nook, or my parents could rent it out. Fuck if one of us won the lottery we could hire a staff and have them live in the house. The servant’s house has three bedrooms, a kitchen, and dining area, as well as a small living area. Did I mention this house has a drawing room? The kind of room you read about in old Victorian novels. The current owners are two men, who have it decorated with elaborate an expensive antiques. The first floor is for all intents and purposes a museum. The upper floors are decorated more modernly, but the spiral staircase going up to the top floors are decorated like a museum. The current owners have huge painted portraits of themselves and their cat in the master bedroom. OMG, the mast bedroom is breathtaking. I can't wait to post photos. I really hope our offer is accepted. There are no other bids on the house. Fingers crossed. I'm trying not to get my hopes up, but I can't help it. I'm used to disappointment.

Oh lord, I got to end this post. I'm up later than usual. I took my Adderall a little late in the day, and then I was stupid and texted that person who called me earlier in the day.

Live long, and prosper

Anna Grace Young

PS my spell check isn't working, so I'm just leaving this as is. Not even going to go back and read it over to see if I missed words, or made obvious spelling errors. Sorry if it’s unreadable.

Monday, June 25, 2012

An explination of my Adderal script, how it works with my bi polar diagnosis.

The title says I will explain my Adderal script and how it works with my bi polar disorder. It should say I will attempt to explain, with my limited knowledge of chemistry how my Adderal script works with the counter indication to not use such a drug, being diagnosed bi polar.

First off I will answer Gledwood's questions asked in the comment section of previous post when I mentioned I would be again using Adderal, but at a different release rate, and a different dosage. I should explain to those of you who have no background information about me. I have sever bi polar disorder, (also known as manic depression) and I'm a heroin addiction currently not actively using heroin because I am on methadone maintainece treatment. (aka MMT) In the past I was prescribed
Adderal XR,  (which means it is released slowly into the circulatory system and the affects last longer) the Adderal was at a high dosage (30mg) BID. (twice daily) I should probably explain what exactly Adderal is. Essentially it is an Amphetamine known on the street as "speed". My medication bottle from the pharmacy literally says, "Amphetamine-Dextoamphetamin". I'm not just on Adderal I'm on a number of medication for my mental illness. Lexapro 20mgs which is an antidepressant, Lamictal 200mg which is a mood stabilizer, and Clonazapam 1mg BID which is an anti anxiety medication, along with aforementioned Methadone 90mg, (I recently went up 5mg) I was at 85mg.

When I was Adderal XR 30mg BID last time it tended to make my mental illness worse. My moods swings were much more intense and much more frequently than before I began taking the Adderal. Now here is where the chemistry and biology come in, and I'm not at all well versed with either studies. To my knowledge, the reason the Adderal was causing so many problems with my mental health is because, Adderal works on the same receptors in the brain that the antidepressant works on. Adderal is a man made chemical that is naturally released in the brain when you are happy, and stimulated. The antidepressant I'm on because theoretically my brain is not natural producing enough serotonin which is only one of the chemicals the brain produces that works on the brain like Adderal. Theoretically antidepressants help the body to naturally produce serotonin and other such chemicals that make "normal" people who are not depressed, and not maniacs stay that way. So my best guess is the Adderal floods the brain with these chemicals like serotonin that make you feel good, and when the Adderal floods the brain with these chemicals it kicks all the natural chemicals that the antidepressants helped create out and replaces them with these quick acting man made chemicals. Which means when the Adderal wears off I come down hard and stay down longer because my brain doesn't naturally produce the chemicals the brain needs to stabilize and feel "normal", which is causing the antidepressant to be pretty much not effective.

I stopped taking the Adderal XR because I felt lousy on them for the most part. The only good thing it does is make me able to concentrate on one thing for a much longer time than I normally would be able to. It also helps me think more clearly while the chemical is flooding my brain. Just imagine drinking 10 cups of caffeine at once and keep doing that all day long, and then just stop and boom no more energy etc.

My Doctor really wanted me to go back on Adderal because he thinks I'm too distracted all the time and moving from subject to subject without any order to my thought process. My Doctor believes this will cure me from being so distracted and random all the time. I was very against going back on it. Not just because of how it made me feel last time I was on it, and because every other doctor I asked if it was a good idea to put a person with bi polar disorder on Adderal which again is speed. Every doctor I asked aside from my personal doctor said it is not a good idea to put a person with bi polar disorder on Adderal.

Even though I was against going back on Adderal my doctor persisted, and hounded me to go back on it. So when I saw him last I just gave in. I figured I'd let me write me the script and I could just not take it. Then he would be appeased, and I wouldn't have to keep hearing how much Adderal would help me. This time I told the doctor the only way I would take the Adderal is if they were the rapid release kind, and I the dose had to be much lower. My doctor finally wrote out the script he wanted to write for so long. Adderal 10mg. He wrote it out for me to take twice daily (BID), but he said I did not have to take it twice daily. He said if 10mg was not doing anything I could take two 10mg pills at the same time equaling 20mg once daily.

When I first got the script filled and I saw amphetamine I was freaked out. I thought to myself people are always looking for these pills to get high. Here I am an addict and I'm being told by my doctor to take a medication which is equivalent to speed. I've been in rehab with people who were addicted to this medication. The thing is I do not like the feeling this medication gives me. I do like how I'm able to sit down and write a blog about one subject in an orderly manner. The upside to the rapid release and lower dose is it doesn't linger. I get the crash and I go to sleep. I forgot to mention I also have doctors script for sleeping pills. As well as the anti anxiety med I mentioned earlier, and this helps alleviate the problems I had with the long acting higher dosage Adderal. I've been taking one pill in the morning, and it wears off by 5pm if not sooner. I don't take them on the weekend, or on days I feel depressed, or overly happy.

I'm not sure how many people are really interested in medication, and its effects on me aside from Gledwood. So this one's for you Gleds. I'm pretty sure I got the chemisty and biology totally wrong. I tried.

Saturday, June 23, 2012

Exessive sweating of face, head, body due to Methadone? Here's a way to stay dry.

Hey, its your favorite blogger. Trying hard not to be too narcassitic. I failed and ended up inserting two photos of myself. Still I'm really trying to help others who suffer from excessive sweating. REMEMBER MAXIM. ONLY THE WORDS IN GREEN ARE CLICK ABLE LINKS TO TAKE YOU TO THE WEBSITES FOR MAXIM

If your on Methadone Maintenance, you may know there is a number of side effects. The most embarrassing of these side effects can be profusely sweating from you face, head, and neck. For women, this is even worse, because it makes wearing, and keeping makeup on impossible. Its uncomfortable, you are always wiping at your face to try and dry the sweat.  While doing this you're wiping all your makeup off with the sweat. Your hair looks unwashed because its damp from sweat. If your not rail thin, people make assumptions that you are fat, and out of shape, or a sweaty pig. Its not just women, men suffer too. The slightest exertion can cause excessive sweating.

Its not just the face and head, its the whole body really. I for one have been suffering with excessive sweating due to the side effect of Methadone treatment for years. Finally I found a product available that you can buy without a doctor's prescription. Its called MAXIM deodorant, not just for your arm pits. There is wipes for your face, neck, feet, and hands. Anywhere on your body. In GREEN is the link to Maxim website where you can learn about and buy the product. Just a click away is freedom for some people.

If your not sure how these wipes work, I've inserted the link below. Here's a "HOW
To" use MAXIM click the GREEN link below for a how to manual.

 Most of the people who read my blog, don't know me as a person to advertise a product. I mostly write about myself, my drug use, sex, and every other personal intimate detail of my life. So why am I now? First off because it was just three weeks ago I ordered my own Maxim wipes, and a week later received them. After three days of use, my sweating was all but gone. I was only sweating when I was truly working out. Then today I was catching up on one of my favorite bloggers, blogs written by  Gledwood, who mentioned his sweating, and on his comments there were a lot of other methadone and heroin addicts who are suffering from this unwanted side effect.
To the right a photo of me and my foundation make up is sweating off, even though all I'm doing is taking a photo of myself in my own air conditioned home.

I won't lie, this product is not cheap, and its not available in stores. You have to buy it over the Internet. It might be cheaper on, but they might not have the wipes yet, because they are so new to the market place.

I hope I helped at least one other suffer from this embarrassing side effect.  There are people who are NOT on methadone or heroin and still suffer from this also. There is some scientific name for it, hypo something or other. Also those of you who are addicted to opiates and are thinking about Methadone treatment, I don't want you to think for sure you will suffer from excessive sweating. Don't make a decision not to get methadone treatment just because you may or may not get this.

I told you in my last post. I'm making a small change. I'm not going to write about getting high, and heroin all the time. I'll still tell my secrets and be hated by lots of people. In this change, I'll be writing more about methadone treatment, mental health problems, and books. Those are my three favorite subjects, next to writing about sex, back when I was young, thin, and attractive. Now I'm getting older, fatter, and uglier. So if you see my photos up top, and think gross, I don't want to read about her sex life, picture some sex kitten with blow job lips, and yourself, or you as a sex kitten, with another sex kitten. Different strokes for different folks.

Here is the link to the official Maxim website again. Don't cry ever again because your to embarrassed to go in public because of how much your face and body is sweating. So again click link below and go to official Maxim website.
Where to buy Maxim wipes for face, and body.

Friday, June 22, 2012

Something is chainging in my mind. Who am I?

This blog started as a place I could write about heroin, where I could admit how much I loved it, how much I glamorized it. The things I did to get it, the process of injecting it into my veins. I wrote about every aspect of heroin and opiate pain pill use.  I began blogging back in early 2008. I first began on Myspace. At first I had a lot to write about. People who knew me, but didn't know the true me read my blog and changed their opinion me, for the good or the bad. I had never told anyone how I truly felt about things that had happened to me in my past. The majority of people who read my blog on Myspace were people who knew me in real life. People who knew me before I became a drug addict, people who knew me and knew in a way how strange I had been since early childhood. Who watched me grow into an even stranger teenager, and adult. They didn't know my thought process, and even though I was a very novice writer in 2008, I began to explain in words what I was thinking when I did certain things, and what things happened to me, and how I felt about those things. It was the first time since elementary school, that others told me I should keep writing, and should write a book.

When I moved to Hawaii in the summer of 2008 I began this blog, here on blogger. Some people who knew in real life followed me over to this blog. This blog began when I first started Methadone maintainece, and I was still using black tar heroin, and Xanax on top of my Methadone dose. I was no longer getting the complete high from opiates that I got before Methadone. It was after my first two stints in 28 day rehab programs. Which in my opinion is when getting high became less fun, and more of a need. Something that I knew was taking over my life. Hurting everyone around me. Before rehab I was having fun, I was hooked and would get sick, but I didn't feel I was hurting anyone aside from myself. Then I got into legal trouble which landed me in jail a few times. Which made getting high a little bit scary. Not the getting high part, as much as the buying heroin or pain pills part. When I was in Hawaii back in 2008, it was my second time living there. I had first moved there with only my mother back in late 2006 to later 2007. When I had ran away from court ordered rehab and if found was going to go to jail for up to a year. My parents didn't want that, so they got me out of Wisconsin and down to Hawaii. My parents were split up at this time. They were still reeling from the death of my sister in 2003. So was I. My mom was drinking all the time, and I had no rules, it was as if I was living by myself in Waikiki beach, Honolulu Hawaii. I was doing heroin, smoking crack every now and again. Doing coke and heroin together. Using every drug I could get my hands on, but every day I was using heroin. That came to an abrupt halt when my dad flew down to Hawaii to bring my mother and I back to Wisconsin. So I went back to Green Bay WI, and had to live off my  dad's Morphine prescription. Again when I got back to WI, I started writing.

After a while in Hawaii, my stories ran out, I got lazy. I became redundant in my posts. Always writing about using that day, nodding out in the middle of a long post, and not finishing posts. At this time I was also working on my book, and my book was about my life in Hawaii the first time living off my mom, with all the freedom in the world. I was telling this story in depth in the book I was writing, and it was hard for me to write posts about heroin, but I felt I had to keep writing about it. There is no doubt it was a subject I could talk, think, write about forever. I glorified heroin, thought people who were against heroin and hated junkies were complete losers and closed minded. I was only attracted to people who were in on the heroin scene. At the Methadone clinic there was plenty heroin fish. I was in my early 20's. I was emotionally only 17 or 18. I stopped growing emotionally when I started using heavily. I was in a word stupid.

All this while I hated myself. I had done everything wrong in my life, and I should have been the sister killed in an accident of some kind and killed. I was ugly, I was gaining weight, I was isolating myself. I was apathetic. All I cared about was getting high just to stop the hatred I had for myself.  Stupid, untalented, going nowhere, no will power, lost every good friend, used people, manipulated my family, an on and on in that way.

My life went on this way for years, each year I gained 10lbs or more. I had to turn myself into jail, and serve my sentence for prescription fraud so I could get my disability checks for my bi polar disorder. Which is a whole book in in itself. I did my time in jail, and was off all drugs, even methadone. For whatever reason, I guess it was that I didn't think I was strong enough to quite using drugs, I went straight back to the methadone clinic the morning I got out of jail, and was back on the juice the next morning. After one of many suicide attempts, and stays in Brown County Mental Health a doctor was intoroduced to me. He told me he could get me off methadone and onto Suboxone, get me on speed to lose weight, and get me on bi polar meds to keep me as stable as I could get. I had been on nearly every bi polar drug there was and I still had episodes. Mostly depressive.

I went into jail late 2009 right after we got back from Hawaii the second time. We had moved back to my home town Oconto Falls. I was still on methadone. I was at my fattest. I never left the house. I watched TV, I read, and I wrote. I'd take months off from working on my book. I wasn't putting my all into the book any longer. Yet, the book was the only thing I was living for. Writing was all there was for me. This blog was the only human contact I had aside from my parents. I was in my mid to late 20's. There was no heroin to be found in my home town, or in the nearest big city Green Bay. The only time I would get heroin is when I would drive down to Chicago and buy it. Which was twice. In the summer of 2010 I moved with my parents to a condo in Green Bay. I went on the Suboxone. I didn't wean myself off the methadone and the first time I took Suboxone I was thrown into acute withdrawals. I tried for a week to make the Suboxone work, and I was still sick, and mentally unstable. I went crawling back to the methadone clinic. They let me back in, and I stayed on until the winter of 2010, and began weaning myself off the methadone to go back on Suboxone. In my mind Suboxone was going to work for me. Here is were my blog got fictional, but I led the readers to believe that what I was writing was the truth. I lied about a relapse for a month or two. One day I wanted to tell people what really  was going on in my life. So I admitted to my lies. Wow, was there a backlash from the readers. People began to question everything I ever wrote. Some people thought I wasn't even a heroin addict or drug user. This one person thought this blog was being written by my mom. I don't know how that idea got started, I think it had something to do with face book. I lost a lot of readers. Still this wasn't the worst backlash I would get for lieing to my readers. The worst was still to come.

Now I'm on Suboxone, and weight watchers, losing weight, exercising, finished my book had it at the publishers. My mom had taken a three month job as a traveling nurse in Yuma Arizona. My Doc who was writing the Suboxone got his licence to write narcotic prescriptions taken away. That was all well though, I thought I could wean myself off the suboxone easily. I was already only taking half my prescribed dose once every three days. In April of 2011 I was waiting for my book to go on sale, and was going on a vacation to Yuma with my aunt to visit my mother. It just so happened that the first day in Yuma I ran out of the Suboxone. I figured oh well. I go three days without it all the time. I figured I would get mildly dope sick and not be able to sleep. Luckily my doc had prescribed me Ambien. It was going to be fine in my mind. I was ready to stop and only use occasionally. Five days into my three week vacation, I was at the ER, and lying to a doctor to get a prescription of a Dilauded filled. He gave me two week script, at 4mgs, four times a day. I only needed two to get high, or at least that's how it was before I started methadone and Suboxone. I didn't anticipate how high my tolerance had become. It turned out I need four pills just to feel better. Eight to get high. Soon I was out of that script, and off to a different hospital and got another Dilauded prescription. This time I  only got a weeks worth.  That was gone in a day and a half.

A few days later, I was in a cab, and noticed the driver had track marks on his hand, and large pupils. I figured either Coke or Ice. So I meekly asked this cabby if he knew where I could get some Heroin. He look at me stunned. I showed him my fresh new tracks from the Diluaded. I gave him 80 dollars, and he came back around 1am after his shift was done, and my mom was working night shift, and my aunt had already left back to WI. So I had a hook up for heroin. I ended up staying in Yuma a little longer than I had intended, but that was okay because I had not bought a round trip ticket.

When I did go back to WI, I called an old friend, and she ended up hooking me up with a dealer through her boyfriend. Who was Jose'.  My dad left May 5th, to Yuma until June 1st. I was left to my own devices, and a check book full of blank checks. The heroin in Green Bay was much more expensive than it ever was in Hawaii, Chicago, or Arizona. So I stole money. My friend and Jose' broke up. Jose' moved in with me for a few weeks. My mom and dad came home from Yuma, and Jose' moved to a shooting gallery. I ended up moving in with him for a few weeks.  Then Jose' ended up committing armed robbery, and the cops came to my parents house thinking Jose' was still living there with me. I was lured to my parents house with the promise of money. When I got there I was grabbed by the arm, and pulled onto a chair. The condo was swarming with cops. I was questioned about Jose' for over an hour. Jose was calling me, and the other people who lived in the shooting gallery were calling me. They were calling to tell me what I already knew. There was a swat team behind the house, and all the roads to the house were blocked off. Luckily the only one at the house was Jose' waiting for me to get money. He had no idea the police were coming for him. I had no idea he robbed a store at gun point that morning, but I did see he had a gun that day when he got home. I asked him about it, and he told me to never mind. He told me he only had 200 dollars, and he wanted to buy coke, and I needed heroin. My dealer wasn't answering that morning into the afternoon. I was hoping when I got to my parents and got the money, by then someone would answer, or I would go through a middle man with a different dealer. Well, needless to say my plan on getting well were thwarted. After Jose' was taken into custody, and the house searched, the police left, and promised to be back if they found I had anything to with the robbery. I knew I was in the clear with that, because I had no idea.

My parents were sick of me. I had done shit like this too many times in the past 8 years. They made me check myself into Brown County Mental Health to detox, and then go to another 28 day rehab. Turns out I had to stay in detox longer than I had expected. The doctor brought me to court and I was made to stay in the nut house until the doctor found me mentally stable enough to attend 28 day inpatient treatment.  I don't remember how long I was there. When I finally got out, my dad came and got me. My mom was still angry with me and didn't want to see me. My dad has a soft heart and just wanted me to be better. So I had a half hour to pack and be at the rehab on time to check in. I packed fast. Forgot tons of things. Most of all I had no make up. I had left it at the shooting gallery and the police took it for some reason. They also took my digital camera, and all it had was one photo of Jose' that I took to put up on a dating website. I still haven't gotten that back. I got to rehab, and it was my fifth time in inpatient rehab and my second time at this particular rehab. I was still mentally craving heroin. I still had diarrhea, I couldn't focus, I could barely get out of bed. This rehab had you scheduled to be in some kind of group therapy every hour of the day with fifteen min. breaks in between to smoke. I couldn't bring myself to talk in rehab because all I wanted to do was get high and talk about getting high. Not recovery. Finally the day ended, and it was after 7pm and we had free time until 10:30pm when we had to be in our rooms. I just laid in bed and listened to my MP3 player. Elliott  Smith songs over and over.

Early the next morning I got up before everyone, I packed my bags and called my dad to come get me, or I was going to the homeless shelter. Mom wanted me to go to the shelter, but my dad said I could come home, but I was to have no freedom. Somehow I got around that, and would call my dealer to meet me outside our condo, and I'd say I'm bring my dog Eleanor out to go potty. I'd buy enough for three days. I only took two shots a day. One when I got up, and one about two hours before I went to bed. My parents could tell I was high, but they didn't want to believe it, and I told them it was because of my Clonazepam. Then my parents realized I was stealing checks. I had been for 5 months, and they just noticed. My parents threatened to call the cops. Instead I promised to give them all my checks from SSI until I paid back the 1,500 dollars I had took in checks. They thought this had stopped my use, but when they weren't looking I would take their debit cards, the ones I knew the pins to, and I would get the money out with them, that way they couldn't be sure it was me taking the money out. There is an ATM machine just across the  street, so I'd call my dealer, and get the money from the ATM and was getting high.

One day, I just got fucking sick and tired. My book had come out the day I went into rehab for a day. I decided I was going to buy a large amount of dope, and end it all. I figured this was the best way to die. Then I would get high, and not feel like killing myself anymore. So I had enough of feeling good, then bad. Going sick for a few days until I could steal a debit card. Finally I called the Methadone clinic, and got back on it. So here we are 2012. I had tried to kill off my blog, by killing myself off on the blog. I posted a post written as though someone else had written it, and said I had killed myself, and that's why I hadn't posted in months. That's when shit hit the fan on my blog. People where googling obits, my local news, checking mine, and my families facebook pages. Finally after a few days, I realized no one believed it. I wrote a short blog and told everyone to fuck off, except one person who I have always felt a kinship with on the blog. I was so self involved that I forgot about all those people out there who read my blog often, and felt like they knew me. Had been reading my blog since I started. People I liked. People who in a weird way cared about me. I royally screwed them. It took hundreds of comments from these people and many others to realize, I was an idiot. I finally gave a apology, but it was too little too late. No one trusted anything I wrote any longer. Even Gledwood doubted everything I wrote. So I just gave up, and started lying, and putting in little truths here and there to make it semi believable. No one trusted me. I lost hundreds of readers. Before the suicide fake, I was getting around 200 unique hits a day. Now I get around 30 unique hits a day.

Today I realized something. I am sick of heroin, and opiates. I just need methadone and a councilor, and physc docto,r my bi polar meds, and I'm okay. I'm not great, I'm not so depressed that I just wish I would die. I wouldn't mind dieing, but I'm not going to kill myself. I realized that my book, no matter how bad it is, it is something I finished. I am ashamed and disappointed in myself because I didn't take my time and put all I had into my book, I would take a few months of not writing a word on the book, and then I'd feel like I needed to get it done, and I'd write 10 pages. Not write again forever and quick through down some words telling my story. I got sick of it, and one day I sat down, and wrote the ending in one day. I just left the my life as an addict hanging. Writing a quick epilogue trying to bring the reader up to where the book ended. So my book is the worst thing I've ever written, and the only thing I've ever accomplished.

The title of my blog no longer fits me. At least not right now. I'm not strung out again. I haven't used in weeks. I still don't like my looks, and I really wish I could get the hell out of WI, and to NYC and live life. Until then I'm focused on reading, and examining every author's techniques, sentence struckters, grammar, character development, theme, and I'm even trying to get metaphors.

In conclusion, if there is anyone who still reads my blog and has been reading since the beginning, I have changed. I am growing up. I'm trying to stop my apathy. I am embracing my strangeness, and ugliness, and hone what little talent I do have. I've written bits and pieces of other books, never getting more than 20 pages in. When I feel ready, and the story is ready to be told I will write another book, this time putting my all into it. This time getting it published the traditional way. I used to tell myself I can't do this, no one will like it, or read it. Now I believe I can do it, and people will read it, and I can become the one in one hundred and thousand author's who sell more than 50,000 books in a life time.  I'm still Anna Grace Young, and I still think you should just read my words. Come back if you like, or never come back. I can say I will not write a post about myself that is not the complete truth without notifying the reader at the top that the post is fiction. I started as a writer who had only one subject to write about...dope, and I'm blossoming into a writer who can write about many different subjects. Those of you who love to read drug stories, you can buy my book by click on the title of my book in the picture of it at the top of your screen, or if your on your phone and can't see it, Its called "I Hate Myself and Want to Die", by Anna Young. The cover is light blue, and the picture on it is of a hand and wrist with cuts on the wrist, the title in baby pink letters. If you don't want to buy the book, go back to the 2008 to 2011 early 2012 posts and read about heroin all day. Plus I am positive I am bi sexual, and prefer women.

Tuesday, June 19, 2012

Bummer Bitch

I like to think of myself as the bummer bitch. Not so much of a negative creep, but I'm a real bummer, and I'm a bitch. Even though I'm a nice person in real life. Some people might disagree. There is a song called Bummer Bitch by Freestone. The band who plays the song is not a punk band, but the punk world took the song seriously. The band was just making fun of punk music. Ironic. Makes me think the person who sent it to me doesn't know much about music. They thought this band really was a punk band. If you listen to the b sides it hurts your ears.

Man I've got problems. I can't really talk about them on here. Police matter.

In other news, I went out to the bar over the weekend. I didn't drink. I hate drinking unless I'm dope sick, and have to drink so I can pass out. I went to the only cool bar around here that plays decent music and has pretty good bands. Its called the Crunchy Frog. Last summer when I'd get dope sick I'd go there to drink myself into oblivion. I had no money, but usually I got my drinks paid for. Also its the cheapest bar around. I drink Pabst, and take shots of Southern Comfort. When I want to get really hammered, I just drink SO CO and 50/50.  I like sweet old fashion ends on the rocks. I had a pretty good time. I went with a good friend, and she couldn't drink either because she's knocked up.

Abrupt subject change.

I'm now reading Naked Lunch, I've read it before, but I never sat down and read it really close. So this time I sitting down and reading it really close. Burroughs being my favorite writer, I'd like to learn his writing technique, and how he structers his sentences. I've been working on writing a 1000 words a day. Practicing his writing style and infusing my style with it. Although I've found that I tend to mimic Victorian writers more than recent writers.  I finally got some of the short stories I had in my head out. Maybe I should move to Iceland where its night half of the year. I'm at my most creative at night. I've noticed that many people have the muse strike at night rather than during the day. After I finished Catch 22, I read Little Women. I can't even explain how that era of writing appeals to me. I read Little Women in a little over 24 hours. I just couldn't put it down. Plus Jo is a writer, and in my imagination I think she is a little like myself. hahaha. Cutting off her long hair. She cut hers off for a noble reason, I cut mine off so I wouldn't have to brush it as often, or at all really.

I also wanted to note, when I check to see who's reading my blog, and I figure out who you are from your ISP's and I label you. I also can see what you typed into the search engine that brought across this blog. I made a big mistake entitling one of my posts, I can lick my own pussy. Now most of my traffic is because of that post title. The posts that are most read of mine, are the posts that I wrote in detail about my sexual actives.  The lick my own pussy post  had nothing to do with licking my own pussy. So those of you who have come across me because of that post title, I'm sorry. I can lick my nipples, and my nose. Only a very few of the "lick my own pussy" people who come across this blog ever read it for more than 30 seconds, or ever return.

 I was suppose to see my head shrink tomorrow, but turns out I can't. I have to go to the Suboxone Doc tomorrow. Big shock to those of you who know me as a methadone girl, but something popped up, and I had to move over to suboxone.  Which really isn't good for me, because it's so easy to cheat on Suboxone. I know I'll be spending my money on dope again.  Which really sucks, because I had over 2000 dollars saved up to move out of this one horse town. I really wanted to go to Oregon, or Seattle. Somewhere where this fucking sun doesn't shine all the damn time. Who would think Wisconsin would be too sunny, but its way too sunny for this bummer bitch.

I saved all that money. That's okay though because my parents are bidding on that old house with a maids quarters, aka my writers nook. Its really only three months that I have to bear all this sunshine. I often wish the sun would explode and then implode into a supernova.

Some people's children!

Live long and prosper

Thursday, June 14, 2012

Super Massive Black Holes

What is death? Is death something we should fear or should we embrace it? Heaven, Hell? Are black holes a place where everything caught in goes to die, or are they the mothers of galaxies? Does a plant feel? Is being under the influence of heroin the best I will ever feel as a living human being on the planet Earth? Is a living human being going to be the only form of existence I will ever experience? Are there parallel universe's? Is there really 11 dimensions? What does 42 mean? Is there a superior race? What the hell is the point of EVERYTHING? Is there a point? Is there meaning in anything, everything, nothing? Is there a collective consciences? Will I ever know the answer to these questions? Are we meant to know the answer to these questions. Anti matter, it's out there. In death will all these questions be answered, and more?

How much do you love the show, Through the Warm Hole on the Science channel? Question everything.

 I hope so much that Dec. 21st. 2012 our sun explodes into a supernova and bye bye Earth. At least bye bye life on earth as we know it. This is a selfish want on my part. I guess I really want it to end for me. I have so many people I love in my life with new children, and they are so happy. They want to see those children grow, become adults, and someday procreate and pass on their DNA. I have no children. The only reason I would want to live is to write. Even though I'm no good at it, I love it non the less. I have stories buzzing through my head. At night my mind comes alive with characters as real to me as my family. The thing is, I'm so apathetic/lazy that I hardly ever write down these stories. So what should I do to remedy this? The only way I know to remedy anything. Take drugs. My physc doc wants me on adderal so bad, and I don't want to go back on it, because it made me so anxiety ridden, and my moods swung like an ape in the trees. The only way I'll go back on Adderal, is if they are not extended release, and its a low dose. This way, I will get the rush of energy I need to write all these stories down, and it won't last too far into the night disturbing my sleep.

I hate to put Methadone down in anyway, because it has helped me in many ways, BUT it is making me more lazy, fatter, less focused. Without it, I'm on heroin. Lets just for a moment assume I could get off Methadone and not go back to heroin. Say the depression bit passes without me committing suicide. My brain normalize or at least goes back to the way it was before opiates were entered into system. Back then I was prolific in my out put of poetry. It just flowed out of me like a full bladder. Yes it smelled and read as bad as piss. I read on an epic level. Book after book. Literature was my life. Just imagine if I had spent the past 10 years honing those skills, instead of falling into addiction? What's the point of imagining Anna? There is no going back, and now you have to hone your skills as an adult. Can an old dog learn new tricks? God I could kill my fucking dad. Drunken asshole. I got to go.

Wednesday, June 6, 2012

Negative Creep

Its been awhile since I wrote a blog. I have lots to write about. First I want to say hello to Jamie. I knew you couldn't resist reading my blog after I've talked about it and all the people who hate me in our meetings. I assume this is why I'm now getting observed UAs. Its okay, I don't mind if you read. I like you a lot. I let everyone read what's going on in my life. Just so you know this is not a total non fiction blog, I sometimes write fiction. If you go back and read some old comments on old posts you'll see how much people hate that I lie. I don't like to say lie, I like to think of it as artistic versions of the story. BTW, I never brought in urine. I have no idea how one would keep it warm enough. When that pee comes out its flippen hot.

Okay, that's enough of a welcome to a new reader. I'll get to what's going on. Where do I start? So much has happened. I guess I'll start with my crazy reader who got too close. This reader moved to Green Bay, and didn't have a hook up for H. So this person googled how to find heroin in Green Bay, and what pops up? My blog. Of course my email address is on my blog. This person emails me to help him or her get h. I figured it was some kind of set up. So I ignored the email. The next day I check my email, and there is 42 messages from the same person. Crazy google person, begging me to help him or her get heroin. After reading all the messages I felt bad, and decided I would give them the last phone number I had for my dealer. Now that I no longer use on a daily basis, when I do use I have to go through a middle man, and buy a bag for this person. So I wasn't sure if the number I gave this person was still the number my man is using. I doubt it would be, because he switches phones like I change underwear. So weekly. I gave this person the number and forgot about him or her.

Later that night I started getting these crazy threatening messages. Saying I ripped this person off, and I'm gonna be paid back. The only place this person knows where to find me is at the clinic, and knows that I go there everyday. So this person was telling me to watch my back. I was like WTF. I didn't recognize the number.Si I had no idea why someone would be so mad at me. Well, after calling the cops and doing some other digging, I find out it was the person who had emailed me to get h, and I gave the phone number to. What I found out later was that, this person called the number and set up a meeting to buy dope. When this person got there, he or she was robbed. This person thought that I was in on it. The cops talked to this person and this person denied all of this, but I had the emails and text messages to prove it. I guess this person didn't want to admit to buying heroin. So to those of you who google how to find heroin in Green Bay WI, and come across my blog, DO NOT email me to hook you up with a dealer, or to be a middle man. There is a little more to the story, but I can't divulge those detail because its now a police matter.

In other news, my parents are looking at buying this awesome old house, that is a landmark here in Green Bay. Its in Astro Park, and it was built in 1888. It has five bedrooms, three bathrooms, a huge spiral stair case, three levels plus an attic and basement. It even has a drawing room. Like in old books, everyone got together in the drawing room to take tea, and listen to someone sing or play the piano. This is not the best part of the house, the best part. It has servants quarters!  A small house in the back of the main house, behind the waterfountin, is the sevents quarters. It has two small bed rooms, a sitting room, a small kitchen, and a bathroom. I could live in the servants quarters, and it could be my writers nook. You would think this house is really expensive, but its not. Its only 250,000 dollars. For a house this big, with a huge city lot, and a smaller house plus a garage on the property, this house is priced to sell. So we may be moving soon. I hope so. I'm also selling my bedroom furniture. I have a sleigh bed, and matching dressers, and a night stand. I now want a old bed with iron rods. Not a queen, but a double size bed. Just one dresser, and a vanity. Sorry to bore you guys. I just love thinking about my writers nook. I can just picture myself in the beautiful garden reading under a parasol.

Speaking of reading, right now I'm reading Catch-22 by Joseph Heller. At first I hated it. I didn't get it. Then I realized its not written in chronological order. After I realized that I began to like the book more. Its not really my favorite book. Its not one I'd read more than twice. Not like Anna Karenina, or David Copperfield which I'd read a million times. If I was stranded on a desert island and I could only have three books, for sure Anna Karenina would be one. As you may or may not know, I'm working my way through a list of the top 100 books everyone should read. I'm not going in order.  I've already read a number of the books on the list. From this list I'm finding books that are not on the list that I'm buying. Such as Jane Eyre and Dorian Grey. One book I'm dreading is "The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy". I have no idea what that book is about, but I remember there was a movie that came out about 7 years ago with the same title, and I don't really remember the movie, I just remember that I did not like it.

As I've mentioned on google+ I got these great new baby doll dresses. I love them. I also got a tiara, a 50's hat with netting over the face, a bunch of flowers to clip in my hair, and a daisy crown, and a sparkling head band. My dad hates my new look, and would not go to the movie with me and my mom, because I was wearing my tiara with a t-shirt, black pants, and a yellow hooded sweatshirt. I love wearing my tiara. I love my Daisy crown, and my hat. I feel British in my hat. I'll post some photos soon. I look like a fat doll. One dress makes me look like a fat little girl, the other two are more grown up, but I had to bring them to the tailor to have them taken in.

I said I had lots to write about, and it turns out that's not true. Well, its true, but what I have to write about is not very interesting. I wanted to mention that the pictures I have on google+, someone marked the one of my vagina as obscene. So now nobody can see it. When I get my period I'm taking a photo of my vagina with a string hanging out, but I'm going to do it really close up, so it will take people a while to figure out what exactly it is, and if they figure it out, they can't be sure so they hopefully won't mark it as obscene.

What I've learned from this stalker situation is that I cannot put up so much personal info about myself on the Internet. I'll always write about personal things, but I'll never put my phone number up, or my address, or my parents names, and licence plates.

Funny thing about my licence plates. Now that my parents got the new car, I drive the jeep. My parents have personalized plates on the jeep. One day someone who goes to the clinic was driving behind me on my way to the clinic, and when I got out the person asked me if my plates meant to say die. Just goes to show what a negative creep I come off as.

A shout out to my friend Bev. I hope your doing good. Sorry I wasn't around when you were having problems. I probably would have made it worse, since I'm a negative creep. Talk to you soon.
Hi Gledwood. xoxox

Live long and prosper