I hate my face, I hate this place,and I'm strung out again

Back in Honolulu Hawaii.

2012-01-30T17:13:00.000-06:00

My mom got an offer at Castle hospital in Honolulu. We just got here two and a half days ago. My dad is still in WI sealing up deals, taking care of odds and ends, and mailing us our stuff. I'm so happy to be back in Hawaii. I fucking love it here. I'm putting up some new photos. Some from here taking in the past few days on my phone. Then I'm posting one photo of me in that bikini you don't believe is me. Idiot.
right now were living in Waikiki on nahua st. The Pacific Ocean is the love of my life. I'm still on Methadone.

So check the sides of my blog with my new pics.

All my luv.

What do you want from me?

2012-01-22T12:42:00.000-06:00

Life is dull here in the US of A. I haven't touch a drop of heroin in ages. Well, what seems like ages. I realized a few days ago that I had been watching over ten hours of television a day. I hadn't pick up a book in over three weeks. So I got my hind end to Barns and Noble, and bought a few books. Right now I'm reading Frances Farmer Shadowland. A bio of the Seattle born actress/nutcase. I've read a previous bio, but this one is very different. It portrays Ms. Farmer as a loon.

Oh yes, I also found author central at Amazon.com and it tells you how many books you've sold, and where you rank on the sites top 8 million. I dropped from 200 thousand, to 1 million in only two weeks. I rank in the top 10 thousand in electronic books. In the past month I've sold 14 books in the US. It doesn't give statistics of other countries.

I urge those of you who come across this blog to click on the link at the top right of the page, and buy the book if it interests you. If I interest you, or if drugs interest you. I know those of you who read my blog regularly, I sound like a broken record. Buy my book, buy my book, buy my book and on and on and on. Why does it say my book is in its second edition? I thought it took a long time for books to change editions. Are first editions worth more than second editions? My book was 15 US dollar, and is now 9.99 US dollars. Is this because its not selling well? Can anyone answer my questions? I could google them, and probably will. I do really like to hear what those of you who read have to say.

I got my period. Three months late. I'm gushing out blood, and blood clots. I can smell the blood on my tampons. It smells like raw meat. Is it weird that I smell my tampons, and play with the blood clots that are on the tampon? I read that masturbating while menstruating speeds up the lenght of your menstruation, so I've had my vibrator out every night before bed. and I have an orgasm.

Tip to women who are constipated. You can go inside your vagina and push on the back wall. When you do so you will feel the fecal matter. When you feel it push out the fecal matter with your finger. Make sure to wash hands when done. I had a friend who use KY jelly and went up into her rectum to pull out her feces. That's a little too far for me. I've found pushing it out with my hands in my vag much easier and cleaner. Tell me, does telling the world this make me more attractive or less? Just kidding I know most if not all of you are totally grossed out.

I've lost some weight now that I'm back on Weight Watchers, and working out two hours a day. I'm down from 183lbs, to 176lbs. I carry most my weight in my stomach. The least healthy place to hold your fat. I'm working on building muscle. As muscle is what helps burn calories. I've been eating mostly protein, and cutting out all processed sugars.

OH yes, my mom did not get the job in Honolulu Hawaii. I think its because she is now 50 yrs old, and the hospitals are looking for younger women. Also I got my lips plumped with collagen. It cost me 580 dollars. Totally worth it. I also bleached my hair. Well not bleached, but went lighter. I have to scan the photos because I don't have a digital camera any more. Plus I'm not sure how to find photos on my new computer. I'll figure it out. Don't worry. Photos to come.

All my love to anyone and everyone who took time out of their day to read this rubbish.
xoxox

Hey you, yeah I'm talking to you. YOU reading this.

2012-01-13T12:27:00.000-06:00

A reader just texted me. Those of you who doubt me, ha ha ha. I'm here, I'm nuts, get used to it. Thanks for texting me reader.

Turns out 180lbs is not enough to get gastric bypass surgery. So its back to Weight Watchers. My mom got a call about a job in Honolulu HI again, and we just might be moving back there Feb. 20th. I don't want to go there fat, so I'm thinking of going on slim fast, and losing weight fast. I want to wear a bikini on the beach.

This morning I posted on Facebook, that I had a baby at 2am, this morning. It went viral. Within ten minutes I had 20 calls from family and friends surprised that I would not tell anyone I was knocked up. I had to stop the hoax before it got to my Grandma Grace. I didn't want her to think I would do something like that to her.

If you want to follow me on FB, look up Anna Young Green Bay WI. Follow me on twitter @ppfaceannagrace. If you want to read my book, go to Amazon.com and type in I Hate Myself and Want to Die by Anna Young. If you don't want to do any of these things good for you.

I'm addicted to Twitter right now. WTFuck facts are awesome. Did you know even though its rare, there are baby girls born with two vagina's. More people voted in the 2011 American Idol finale than in the 2008 Presidential race finale. Disney once produced an animated film called the Story of Menstruation. These obscure facts go on and on. I also like auto correct, when your Iphone auto corrects, and says funny and embarrassing things. No body cool follows me on Twitter. Too bad. If you follow me that would be cool. Yes, I'm talking to you. The one reading this post.

I'm fat. There have at me

2012-01-02T22:15:00.000-06:00

Well as I suspected I've gained weight since getting back on Methadone. So on January 9th I go in for a consultation for bariatric surgery. All I can do is worry that my insurance won't let me get it done. I've researched it in depth, and am willing to quit smoking, and going through all the hoops you have to go through to get the surgery.

Please pray that I get this life saving surgery. I know you assholes out there are going to spew shit out the tips of your fingers and onto this voodoo screen.

Oh goodness, that feels good to get off my chest.

Porno buffering

2011-12-28T19:51:00.000-06:00

Last night I could not sleep. Just thought after fucking thought ran through my head. I was remembering ever incident I never want to remember. Like being bent over a sink in a dirty bathroom getting fucked by some guy for a quarter of h. How I ran out on Eleanor when I relapsed this spring. Now my fucking computer is running for shit. I just watched a porno and masturbated, the fucking porn kept buffering.

Anyway, last night I ended up going and getting my dog off my parents bed, and putting her in my bed with me. Then crying until I felt like a little kid and fell asleep around four am. Then I get up to go to the clinic, and have to piss really badly. I get to the clinic and I don't have an UA, so I tell the nurse I'm going to use the bathroom. I go to open the door, and there stands some young man trying to pee. I look at him and say sorry dude. Then I go into the employee bathroom.I piss and talk to myself how this day is a bad day already. I also had an appointment with my there rapist, and by the time the appointment is I'm to lazy to go. So I lay on the couch and stew about how fucking bad my life is.

I hope tomorrow is a little better. Except I have to pay 36 dollars for not showing up to my there rapist, and now I have to wait another 90 days until I get a fucking take home. God, I hate myself and want to die.

Chrismas takes Kim and Kourtney

2011-12-25T15:02:00.000-06:00

Watching Kim and Kourtney take New York, Christmas day. This morning I got to sleep in till 9am. My mom woke me up and told me to get ready to go to my cousin Amanda's house for breakfast. I love going . Amanda's kids are great fun.

BTW, Kim's ex husband is a douche. I can totally see why she left him. Oh yeah, I went and saw the movie, The Girl with a Dragon Tattoo. OMG, it was excellent. The most horrifying rape scene I ever saw. I wanted to close my eyes. Then she gets him back and its great.

I don't have to go to the clinic tomorrow. We all got two take home doses for xmas. Same goes for New Year's Eve two take homes. One New Year's Eve there is a Big Bang Theory marathon on TBS. I know I have no life, and TV repeats get me excited. I love the show.

Wow this blog is very random. I really don't have any kind of life to write about. I'm off street drugs. I live with my parents. I got to the YMCA to work out. I eat too much candy and have to work out at least two hours a day. I must say I'm loving working out.

Never toast with an empty glass. It's bad luck. Love and respect to all who read this on this Christmas day.

Jolly old Anna

2011-12-22T15:42:00.000-06:00

I'm back online. I hawked my old computer, and was without Internet for a while. Yes, I did relapse. I used the 60 dollars I got for my computer to buy a bag of dope. So stupid. I used for about a week, and then upped my dose of Methadone. Now even if I wanted to get high it would cost too much, or I would OD trying to get high.

So tis the season. I sure am jolly. I got this new computer for Christmas. I watched two Christmas movies today. Home Alone, and the 1938 version of A Christmas Carol. I've been practicing my charades moves. plan on having a good old game of charades Christmas morning at my cousin's house. My mom gets my moves right away. I never guess my mom's moves. She did out of Africa, the movie. How the hell am I suppose to get that?

Last time I posted I believe it was about Justin Rose. Well, for a while we were texting each other on a consistent basis. He told me he didn't want a relationship. I was surprised at my reaction. I was not upset. I would much rather have a solid friendship than a sexual relationship. So I continued to text back and forth with him. Then one day I was like, dude; you have two babies who live with you and your a single father. You don't have a job. Your using dope. Fuck your a loser. So I deleted his phone number, deleted his facebook status as friend to not a friend. I had an ah ha moment. I don't want to be with another addict. I don't even want addict friends. What used to seem so glamours to me is now just so fucking pitiful.

I wasted my 20's on drugs. I'm going to be 29 in February. I want to have children soon, I want a writing career. I don't want to be attracted to men with no jobs, and no ambition. I don't want to date anyone who doesn't make over 50,000 dollars a year. So I'm changing my profile on okcupid.com to hopefully find that someone.

As you can tell from this post, I haven't been working on my grammar as much as I should. I still have my grammar work books, and my New Years resolution is too work on my grammar at least an hour a day. Start to write a new book. I have a couple ideas I'm playing with. Nothing solid yet.

I'm off to read all the blog's that I haven't gotten to read in a few weeks.

This human form in which I was born. I now repent.

2011-11-20T09:27:00.001-06:00

I don't know if you remember my blog about Justin Rose. A guy I had a affair with about 6 years ago. Maybe more. Well he found me on Facebook. I was excited, I thought he wanted to see me. Instead he wanted me to hook him up with my dealer. He had just gotten off Suboxone, and was sick.

I had looked him up like six months ago, on facebook, but could not find him. He didn't create a profile untl June. In June I was in the midst of drug addiction. I no longer cared about finding him.

Justin is now a father to, two beautiful babies. He's a single father. He says he wants to be friends. I want to be more than friends. He doesn't text me unless he wanted drugs. I figured out he was using me for a hook up. I was the one doing the texts asking him questions, telling him how I feel about him. I don't think he's over his children's mother.

Thank goodness he got back on Subs. I was worried about him. I'm not texting him everyday or anything like that. Every now and then I will ask him how he's doing. Right now I just texted him and asked if he wanted to go see a movie, with his children. He's a big sports fan, and the Green Bay packers are playing today, so I'm betting he will say no. Is it too forward to invite a guy and his kids to movie?

I really like Justin. He's smart, funny, dark, introverted. Great taste in music. He does have a violente streak. I don't know if having babies has melowed him out at all.

Should I just butt out of his life?

I'm still working on my grammar workbooks. I'm writing this rather fast, not thinking about where comma's, and weather I should use who or whom.

Dude's I just want to get laid, perhaps have a child of my own someday. Not saying I want Justin's baby. Not saying I'm ready for a baby just yet. Still my clock is ticking.

My shitty lovely grammar!!!

2011-11-08T13:49:00.003-06:00

Anonymous you are right my book is just a ton of grammar errors. So I got to thinking. Why? Why didn't the editor do his job. Fix my shitty grammar. So I took my Blackberry and called the publishing house. I asked, "why"? They sent me to speak with the editor. I did what any red blooded woman would do. I called him crying. Why? Why? Please tell me why? This is what bullshit answer he gave me. "If I cleaned up your grammar the book would have lost its tone. It would have turned into my book. " There is SO many grammar errors in my book that my book would not be my book anymore.

You want to know what I did. I went to Barns and Noble and got every book I could find on grammar. Two books. Grammar for idiots. Which I thought most appropriate. Then when Bad Grammar happens to good People. Then I found this other book, How to read like a writer. Which I Promise to read after I finish my two grammar books, and understand what grammar is, and why its so damn important!!

I googled books with bad grammar. Which book should show up, but Catcher in the Rye. A book most English teachers would scoff at had it not been a classic. In no way am I comparing my book to Catcher in the Rye. That would be like comparing Steven King to Edger Allen Poe. Still to good. Steven King I will admit is a prolific writer. I just don't like his books. I read this series of his books, the tower something. In one of the books he actually spent three sentences describing a fucking shoelace. It had nothing to do with the plot.

I must admit I haven't gotten to into my grammar books just yet. But...wait. I have a cup of coffee, a bottle of Adderal, and a coke in front of me. I'm going to start my grammar lessons...soon!! First I have to finish my pleasure book. One Day, which has taken me three days to read.

I'm going to get so good at grammar, you won't know its me who's writing this blog. I promise!

Trying to defend myself, and more obsessing about who does or dosen't buy my book

2011-11-02T12:08:00.001-05:00

I'm going to back to when I was using and not blogging because I was too busy finding money, buying dope, using dope, and repeat. I will not be using real names to protect the guilty and Innocent.

A normal day for me consisted of me waking up sick, when I had my 700.00 dollars to spend, I would take a 100.00 dollars out and call my dealer and buy two bags. This was the main dealer that I went through, the only one I had the phone number to. The dealer would say he would be there in 20 mins. I would go outside and wait for him by Subway down the road from my parents condo. He never showed up on time. I would sit there for an hour sometimes. I smokes cigarettes after cigarette, sometime I would bring nook and try to read, but my mind too preoccupied. When the dealer showed up my eyes lit up like it was Christmas time. I would bring back to my parent's condo, and say I had to do number 2. I would then proceed to cook up my shot, and sink pop it. From using it so much my veins are all shot. The only ones still working are the one in my thigh, and my jugular. I could never find the on in my thigh, and after shooting up in my jugular a number of times it has hidden on me. I could no longer stick my finger in my mouth and blow and get it to stick out. It was still there if I poked around a bit,, but I was inpatient. I found I got just as high sink popping as I did main lining. It just took 2 to 3 mins to kick in. I would shoot it in my ankles so I wouldn't have any bruises showing.

When my money ran out, I would So the dope costed 60.00 dollars. At this time I was writing out checks to myself from my parents account. I also stole their debit cards and would go to the ATM and get out as much money as could without being detected. I could usually get 50 dollars a day, so I would have to use half of what I was normally using. Then the money would run out for a few days, and I would have to go sick for three days. After that it was all in my head. Intense cravings, still a runny nose, watery eyes, sneezing and goose bumps, but not the aches and pain, and no longer shitting my pants. Then just when I thought I would never get high again, Ki Ki would buy a bag and share with me. I shared with her so often that when she had money she would catch me back.

At first we would go to Sarah and Kevin's place to use, but after a while they has so many people in and out of there they go a paper letting them know they were considered a shooting gallery. At least that's what Sarah and Kevin told us. The did have a paper showing that Jose the guy who I was sort of seeing robbed a store at gun point. He squealed on Kevin and Sarah telling them it was just a shooting gallery up there. I won't lie it was sort of a shoot gallery. People coming in and out paying Kevin 5 bucks to shoot up in their house. After they saw that letter they wouldn't let anyone up there to shoot the dope. So Ki Ki and I started shoot up in the car.

The guy I had a connection with had consistently good dope, the stuff Ki Ki's people's dope. I mean sometimes they had great dope, but then they would get this white shit and it was purse shit. It didn't make you feel better. At least not for long.

Call my mom at 920-621-8598 or my dad at 920-609-8581 and they will tell you the hell I put them through in my years of active addiction. My dad considers being on Methadone as me still being addicted to dope, just a dope a Dr. prescribes.

This confusing thing where some of you think my mom is me, or I am my mom is just ridicules. I once accidentally posted on my mom's face book page and suddenly I am my mom, or my mom is me. call me Anna 920-660-5231 and see that I am really me. This is Anna Young's blog. I Anna Young write it. I did once lie about having a relapse when I was one suboxone, because I was losing readers being on suboxone and not having any interesting blog anymore. Then the death thing, and I admitted that.

I got on the Methadone clinic again because it gives me back my life. If you were to read my book you see that I was a full blown junkie. I understand if you can't afford to buy the book, or if I Hate Myself and Want to Die is not your type of book.

I'm sick of being told that I've never been a full blown junkie before. If you read the book and get to the Hawaii part you see how bad I was really strung out. I sold my body for drugs and money. I even have a prostitution charge on my record. You think I wanted to fuck some old ugly men with uncircumcised cocks, and let them fuck me just for fun. Your sadly mistaken.

I guess I don't write passionately about my use on my blog because I put so much of it in my book. So I'll never get those to believe me after my two lies on my blog. My dad might be mad that I gave out his phone number to have bunch of people ask if I have ever been a full blown junkie.

I guess since I told all the haters to go away, they did. Since my stats are more than half what they used to be. Oh well. The people that do read, the larger percent of them read for more than an hour. 38% are less than 5 secs.

I still want to know why or why not you would or would not want to buy my book. I swear to you its a good book. Not the next great American memoir, just a good fast read. Its on sale on Amazon.com and on Barnsandnoble.com Its really cheap on nook, and kindle.

Question to those few of you who still read my blog.

2011-10-31T17:08:00.000-05:00

I want some honesty. First off I'll tell you that my stats have dropped to under half of what I would get two months ago. Even before I diablebed Anonymous commenters. I assume its because I lost trust from my lies, I haven't been posting regularly, and my post are not what they used to be.

What I really want to know how many of you who come across my blog even think of buying my book? If anyone has? I read the book for the first time since I got a copy, and I read it on my nook, and its not that bad of a book. Its actually a very good book in my opinion. Of course this is my opinon and is scewed because I"m the writer of the book. Normally I would say the book sucks and I have.

This book gives inisight to the non user what using is like. To the drug user its like drug porn. As an addict myself I can never get enough memoires of addiction to drugs. Not drunks though. I live with a drunk, and don't find it at all interesting.

Which one is going to kill me?

2011-10-28T10:32:00.004-05:00

I'm sitting in my room, I love my bed, I have silk sheets and pillow cases, a 1000 thread count Egyptian cotton down blanket. Comforters are too hot for me. I have three other sheets that are all over a thousand thread count Egyptian cotton. I bought all this when I still on Methadone last time. Now that the methadone is making me sleep all the time, I get to enjoy my bed more. I just wish I had someone to share my bed with.

I have been journal again on a daily basis. I was only journal on a weekly basis, sometimes a monthly basis. All my entire were about how much heroin I used, how I acne'd my blanket on the couch with cigarette burns. We aren't allowed to smoke in the house, so I take a blanket outside and smoke with that, and burn it to hell.I worried if my parents would notice that I was I writing checks out to myself from their checking account, or taking their ATM card and taking money out. They only caught me once and that's when I went way overboard and wrote out around a thousand dollars in checks to myself. Now I give them all my SSI checks which amount to 700 something to them to do with as they please. I complain about it, mainly yesterday when I was shopping online and found the perfect purse and the perfect winter jacket. The purse was a little over priced at 300 dollars. Two seasons ago. The jacket was on O.co, and it only cos ted 80 dollars. I wanted to waste my money on an over priced purse and coat. There is a perfectly good coat for me at Kmart, and I could look at Burlington coat shop for both a jacket and a purse. TJ Max which is like a Ross store in Hawaii with cheap name brand stuff. I really don't care about the name brand. I would have been a bit embarrassed to have a Marc Jacobs purse.

My favorite outfit I have right now is a black sweat shirt that I got for 4 dollars at Wal Mart and I cut the collar out so it hangs off my shoulders, with a white t-shit under it, and a pair of 18.00 dollar jeans I got at K mart. I also got a sweat shit in gray too, but I haven't cut that one yet. Since I got the outfit that I like I wanted a purse to go with. Something with a splash of color. I guess color is not in this season, because all the purses at TJ Max were brown, gray, black, tan, and yellowish.

I think I've switched addictions, I've gone from heroin to shopping. If I keep gaining weight I won't be able to wear the clothes I want. So I'm really working on weight watchers. Which after I'm done blogging I'm going to go to my Weight Watchers website and count my points for the day. I had three pieces of French toast, with light syrup, and two sausages that I gave to Eleanor my dog.

I know you guys tune into my blog to hear about how fucked up my life is, and today I didn't give it to you. Except yesterday I took like 12 benzo's with my methadone to get high. I didn't really get high just tired. I won't be doing that again. I also thought about calling my dealer yesterday, but I didn't.

On another note, remember the whole Jose robbing a store with a gun, and thank god I didn't know he did it, or go with him, but anyway now he's in jail. He used to call me all the time. From Brown County Jail there is a number that comes up. Now I'm getting a call from another correctional facility named Chris. Now I'm scared that since I wouldn't take Jose's calls, and now he's been transferred to prison, and is having someone call me for him. I'm afraid he's planning a hit on me. Mainly because I told the cops that I was with him last night at so and so's house, and when I woke up he wasn't there, but around 1pm he came back, and he had a gun. There were a lot of kids in the house, and I asked him why he had a gun in the house, he told me to never mind.

So my dad calls my use telling me he would give me 50 bucks, so I take so and so's car over to my parents, and go up stairs and as soon as I open the door a cop grabs me by the wrist and tells me to sit. I had no idea what was going on, but I figured it had to do with the gun. I thought, did he kill someone. I know he hated his ex girlfriend but loved he at the same time and didn't want any other man to be with her. Then the police ask me about a robbery. I forget the name of the place. I didn't know anything about that, but I did tell them where Jose was. What he was wearing, and that he had a gun. So in a way its because of me he got caught. I think he blames me for going to prison for 20 years. I guess he robbed two places and got 40 years, 20 in and 20 out.

Or it could be this crazy guy named Chris that I met in Brown County Mental Health aka the nut house, and I was talking about taking a bus to Washington and go to Seattle when I got out. He said he would take the bus with me and be my protector. He even go the bus times leaving and how much it would cost for the two of us. When I got out my parents talked me out of it. Going to Seattle with a crazy person, not the greatest idea. In a manic state a great idea. He ended up going and called me ever day he was there asking me when I was coming I told him I'm not coming, but he would beg and I would say I will think about it. The he didn't call for about two weeks, and one morning he calls and tells me just go out of jail for selling his Lithium to an undercover. STUPID!! Fucking Lithium. Now you understand how crazy and dumb he was. Maybe just crazy. Now I think he might be in jail and is calling me every day three, four times a day. It took me forever that in the pre recorded saying who it is on the collect call, that he was saying Chris. He could come back to Green Bay WI and kill me too.

Just so you know if I get killed its either Chris don't know last name, or Jose Machicoto.

I guess I leave you on that note.

If you want something don't hesitate to ask someone else

2011-10-26T12:49:00.004-05:00

Anonymous if you haven't noticed by now my spelling is atrocious. Still you understand what I'm saying. Do you think Rimbaud the greatest poet to ever live (in my eyes) spelled everything correctly? I sure don't. I'm reading the book Heroin and the thing must not have been edited because every five words in the book is spelled wrong. My book on the other hand was edited and done so mighty finely. So if you want to dis my spelling go ahead and do so.

On to other topics I lost three pounds thanks to hard work, and not eating all the candy bars I crave so much. That's a big dent in ten pounds I gained back on the methadone. Since starting methadone I can't cum any longer. If I remember correctly it took like two years for my ability to cum came back, and when I first started to be able to cum again I would piss while cumming. At least I don't have a libido, and not being able to cum is such a big deal.

Today I woke up at 3:30am, made myself some coffee, sat in the recliner and watched CBS news up to the minute until I feel asleep again sitting up and drooling on myself. I woke up again at 5am because I herd my mom get up. She's always happy with me when I make the coffee before she gets up.

At 5ish I got ready to go to the clinic. We are not allowed to wear our PJ's to the clinic (stupid rule) So I get all dressed up for my hour there while I read my nook looking good. P.S. I got the job at Green Bay vet clinic. I only be working on day a week, staying overnight with the animals who had surgery the day before. I have to do some training to recognize the signs that there is a problem, and if I can solve the problem myself or have to call the Dr. in. I get paid minimum wage, and don't work over 10 hours a week, so they can't take away from my SSI. So far the haven't bothered my about the check I got for my book sales. I don't get another check for three more monhts. Which should be a bit bigger than the first check I got, because it take up to three months for Amazon, and Barns and Noble and all other web sites who sell books to get their numbers in. The fist books I got a check for were the books I sold on the publisher's web site.

After December's check I doubt I will get any checks at all. Unless I get a literary agent to get me in a true publishing house. I have one other book I'm going to send around to agents to see if I can get a book really published. I know this will take years. I hope to have a real publishing house pick up on of my books before I'm 38 years old.

Wait back to the beginning I wouldn't say Rimbaud was my fav poet, I really love Allen Ginsberg, and Jack Kerouac ( I never spell that right) yet you get the just. I love the beat poets. I also love Walk Whitman, and many, many more.

When I left for the clinic it was raining cats and dogs, and thundering and lightning. I still got there in the normal 15 mins. it takes me to get there. As always when I leave for the clinic its dark out. I like getting up at the butt crack of dawn.

I'm begging to think I'm going to be a spinster. I don't like the bar scene, and all the guys who respond to my profile on okcupid.com are either damn, ugly, or only interested in sex. Believe me I'm not being to picky, Ive gone out with a couple of them and boy did those dates blow. It was when I was fat, so would email them a photo of me naked so they knew what they were getting into. Yet I told them they were not get getting sex on the first date.

Right now I'm imagining blood blossoming into a syringe, and its getting me off. Not sexually, just in a feel good way. I miss the needle. I wish we could inject our Methdone. I'm not sure if I should capitalize Methadone or not? Anyway the imagination of blossoming in the syringe.

As far as my book goes, people like a happy ending, and I didn't leave them with a terrible ending, but not a happy one either. Reminder to self always end a book on a happy note. My second manuscript I put in a happy ending.

Give me a break I'm trying to sell something

2011-10-25T17:09:00.001-05:00

The number one critizim I get about my book is that I should have started it earlier when I first started using, and that book is too short. Its ture. There is nothing I can do to get anyone who comes across this blog to spend $14.00 for a paperback, and 7.00 dollars for ebook.

I guess I can say the book really shows someone who's never used heroin or at least never abused heroin, and it shows how you throw your morals out the window and do things you'd never thought you'd do.

I"m looking for a litterary agent to find a big publishing house to pick up the book. I would love to see my book in Barns and Noble, or Boarders book stores.

I ask if your reading this blog for the first time that you click on the title of the book under the picture of the book and go to Amazon where you can read blurbs of the book, decide if its something you want to read.

2011-10-25T08:55:00.000-05:00

well, I'm allowing anon commenter's again. I'm in a good place and I can take the harassment. Plus I'm not getting many comments from commenter's.

Other than that, I don't have much to say, so I'll tell you what's going on in my mundane life.
Every morning I get up around 4:30am to 5:30am and I leave at 5:45am to go to the methadone clinic. I sit and read while wait for my number to be called so I can go dose. I drive hoe really fast to witch the Today show. I lay on the couch with Eleanor, who sometimes licks my teeth. Yes I do brush before she licks and after she licks. She also licks inside my belly button, which my parents think is very gross.

Around 10am my methadone kicks in and I'm tired, so I fight sleep to stay awake. I read until I fall asleep
while reading. When I get up I write in my journal. i stopped eating snickers, and other candy bars. I knew I had to stop or I would hit the 200lbs mark before I knew it. Now whenn I get a sweet craving I eat a fiber one bar only 90 calories.

I watch prime time TV and go to bed around

I read a bit more after I'm done journal, then its time for me to watch some TV. I watch the ID which has a bunch of 48 hours mystery's, and Dateline Mystery's. I've always loved a goo d mystery. I often take cat naps, and wake up craving candy. I have to smoke a cigg, and drink a diet coke

Then around 8pm I'm in bed by 8pm.

My life is boning. '

assorted ramblings

2011-10-22T10:17:00.000-05:00

I'm getting fucking fat. I've gained 10lbs. Just fucking great. I hate that part of being on Methadone. I used to resist my cravings for sweets easily, I worried more about my cravings for dope. Now its back to sweets. I eat up to three candy bars a day. At least my jeans still fit.

I watched a show Denis Nelison the serial killer on the ID channel here in America, man was he a twisted man. Just when HeroinHead Shane posted about his dad's death in detail the next day there was a show on here about his killer. I wonder if Neilson raped his 14th victim after he died. The man was a necrophiliac. No disrespect to Shane. I feel so bad about Shane's father's and they horrible terms of which he died. Leaving behind a son, a smart son who was raised in what you'd think would be the bringing up of a serial killer, but he's not a serial killer. As far as I know. Again no disrespect, but its always the one you'd least respect.

Moving on, I haven't had sex in a while, I'm worried that I'm like the Nielson man, unable to make lasting relationships. Ever since my addiction spiraled out of control. Pete my ex stuck by me while I was spiralling out of control, but in the end we went out separate ways. He lives in Florida now, and I call him once in a great while to see what he's up to. He never calls me, except when my first came out, he called to see if I'd send him a free copy. I said no, that he had to buy it, and he did.

Oh yes, two days ago Justin Rose, a guy I was obsessed with for ever, and had a relationship with him for a while after cheating on Pete with him. Read post called Justin Rose for full details. Anyway, he emailed me via Facebook to see if I could get him something, as in H. I told him I'm back at the Methadone clinic, he told me he was just getting ff Suboxone and needed something to tide him over. I tole him I could get a bag for 50, he said he would call in an hour, but never did. I same he found something cheaper and closer by. He lives 30 mins away.

I must say I was quite excited to hear from Justin, but all he wanted from me was dope. I wish upon a star that he would fall in love with me.

Must go read some blogs now. See ya later, or rather read ya later.

Just my morniing

2011-10-18T15:31:00.000-05:00

This morning I woke up at 6ish am. At 6:20am I left for the Methadone clinic. When I got to the garage I got in the Jeep, low and behold I tried to start the car and it didn't start. I go back up stairs to the second floor and into the condo. My father's guess was that the battery was dead.

I ended up having to take a taxi to the clinic. At first my dad gave me a 20 dollar bill, I knew thsi wasn't going to be enough, he swore up and down it would be enough. I ended coaxing another 20 out of him. I was correct it costed 19,25$ one way, so the total ride cost just under 40.00$ The whole way to and from the clinic I was terrified that I wouldn't have enough money.

When I got home and had no change for him, he was flabbergasted that it cost so much for such a short cab ride. Its 12 miles from my house ot the clinic. After all the dealing with the crouching that I got ripped off, I got on the couch and fell back asleep. I was up early and tired. My dad began yelling at me that I wa nodding out. Fucker. My dose is only at 65mgs and I'm not feeling that great yet.

My book, and rambleing

2011-10-17T12:40:00.004-05:00

I'm gaining weight. I have no self control while on Methadone. I'm trying to stick to Weight Watchers, but its hard. I've gained 5lbs. I working on yet another book, hopefully a better book than I Hate Myself and Want to Die (available on Amazon.com and Barnsandnoble.com)

Just click at the top of my blog where there is a picture of the book click on the writing that says the name of the book. Its a simple read, one to two days. I consider it junkie porn.

Aside from my book, the Methadone has really helped me to enjoy mundane things. Walking for no reason. I used to walk to get heroin. I'm watching TV and don't get sick of all the violence. I don't walk from room to room in our condo looking for the least depressing thing. The only thing that elevated the sadness was heroin. I had to use every day.

At the Methadone clinic there is at least 100 new people. The line in the morning is going outside the door. People who were addicted to Oxycontin, but since they changed the formula of the pill so you can't cook it so you can't even crush it. All you can do is swallow it. A lot of people who go to the clinic come from up north where heroin isn't available. So they end up at the clinic

Oh yes, if you are a heroin junkie, and want to be in a documentry film by MTV for their true life show see post below for emial, and phone number.

who want to be on True LIfe MTV, I'm a junkie?

2011-10-15T13:15:00.001-05:00

I got an email from a MTV producer who came across my blog and wanted to see if I was interested in being a True Life documentry about heroin addiction in the suburbs. Since I'm now on Methadone she said to pass it on, and if any of my readers are junkies in America to either email her at haganhinshaw@gmail.com her phone is 718-422-0704 ext. 105 If anyone on here who gets picked because I introduced you to them please tell me. I would love to know.

Aside from that I'm doing great on Methadone. I haven't used anything aside from Methadone since I started. What else would you like to know? Give me something to write about. My creativity has flown out the window.

More pointless shit

2011-09-29T11:13:00.000-05:00

I've been going to the Methadone clinic for almost a full week, tomorrow will be a full week. I'm at 40mgs and its not holding me over yet. My mood has improved a 100%. I'm no longer obsessing about Kurt Cobain. A huge deal for me. Jesus H Christ, I can' think of anything to write about.

I do miss getting high, I still have a needle fixation, and have shot up water once. I think I felt a small rush for about three seconds and then nothing. Wait its not that I miss getting high, I'm having cravings. I'm also having sweets cravings. I am being very careful about what I eat and how much. I'm terrified that I will get huge again. I really wish I could put up a before and after photo, but I hawked my camera for dope money.

I've also made the decision to give all the money I get from SSI to my parents. Nearly 700 dollars a month. Our rent is almost 900 dollars a month, so I'll be paying a lot more than half the rent. I also give my food stamp card to my parents, so I'm also paying for groceries. If I get that job at the Veterinarian's office cleaning out cages and staying there over night after an animal has surgery to keep an eye on them, all that money I'll be able to keep. I'll only be getting minimum wage, and I can't work over 20 hours a week or I loose my benefits.

On the 5th of Oct. I bring Eleanor into the vets office to get her blood work she has to get done to go to Hawaii. We have no immediate plans on going to Hawaii, and it takes four months to get the results back, so we won't be able to go until February 5th. Its good to have it done just in case.

As far as my writing, I'm working on getting a literary agent. The novel is called Here we go again. This one is a true memoir about my childhood, and growing up after the suicide or my grandfather at our house, witnessing my babysitter shoot himself in the head with a shot gun and kill himself a few months later, and seeing my father try to kill himself by hanging the night he found his dad dead in the garage. I go more in detail about my bi polar, how I showed symptoms at age 14, but was not diagnosed until I was 20 years old.

I've sent out the manuscript to four agents so far, and I paid 50 dollars to a friend who works as an editor at my hometown news paper to edit the manuscript. I'm not holding my breath.

I have this reader who had a lesbian dream about me. That's awesome!!! I hope it wasn't someone just kidding with me.

I'm awesome, no I'm not, I don't even have facebook friends.

2011-09-25T09:57:00.000-05:00

On Friday I began Methadone treatment again. Haven't touched a needle since Thursday, even though my dose is so low I'm still sick, and having intense cravings. I was started at 30mgs, and will be upped 5mgs every three days. Standard practice here in America. My moods have evened out. Unlike Gledwood who went coo coo for coco puffs when he went off heroin and onto Methadone.
Heroin stabilized me when I was using, but it was expensive and I could only use one bag a day, which wasn't enough to keep me stable. I woke up sick every morning, and had to scramble every day for the money to get a bag. Coming up with that money was quite a task, and I ended up doing things for money I never thought I would do again. Things like sleeping with drug dealers, stealing checks from my parents, using all my SSI money for dope. Doing shows for men, which means dancing and getting naked sometimes giving a hand job.

Now that I'm on Methadone, I'm giving all my SSI checks to my parents, for rent, and all other expenses incurred by my living with them. I'm getting a job at a vets office. It will only be a couple days a week, and sometimes spending the night attending to the animals who just had surgery. I do love animals, and think this job will be a good fit. Plus it will get me out of the house once in a while, without going to see my using friends.

I'm also back to reading a book every day or two. I never read the Client before, and am finding very entertaining. Its taking me more than a day to read though. I've also read all the Charles Burkouski books I can find. Man is he a dirty old man, or was a dirty old man. Sorry if I'm spelling his name wrong, I'm too lazy to go to my room and look at the correct spelling.

I got a call from my marketing consultant about my book. Apparently I'm not selling very well, and they want me to do promotions. The set me up with a reading at a book store called the attic. They also want me to pay 500 some dollars to put my book in the New York review to perhaps be picked up by a traditional publisher. I don't know if I want to waste the money, as I know, no publisher in their right mind would pick up my book. Its crushing to know something you worked so hard on isn't selling. Just goes to show I'm terrible writer, and have no talent in my pathetic life.

Ha, ha, you asshole Anon can't put me down even more.

being bullied

2011-09-16T21:14:00.001-05:00

I used today, and yesterday. Before that I was clean for five days. I noticed when I'm not using, I'm not sick, but I sneeze a lot. What is that all about? Does anyone else experience this? On Monday I go to the Methadone clinic and get my paperwork done, and see the Doctor on October 5th and begin dosing that day. I guess there are a lot of new patients and there is only one Dr. on sight so I have to wait a few weeks before I can dose.

You wonder how I got back in, well I completed an outpatient rehab. I only had to go five times. At least I hope that will do it. My councilor said it would be enough, and the Dr. said it was enough.

That's not really what I wanted to write about. I wanted to write about bullying. Ever since I was in 3rd grade I've been bullied. When I was 14 I had, had enough and tried to kill myself. I took a half a bottle of Tylenol and laid down. Then I started to get nauseous and told my mom what I did and why I did it. When I got back to school after being in a physc ward for two weeks on the children's unit everyone in my class wrote a note that said next time use a gun. I was crushed. I was so ugly, stupid, and useless.

Now on my blog I get the same thing. I don't even read anon comments anymore, because they hurt my feelings. Yes I am a lier, I never denied that, I'm also a thief I never denied that. I'm always the one who gets haters. Its like my place in life is to be hated, even by people who read my online journal. I'm not witty like Melody Lee to come back at the haters with something clever to say.

I don't understand why I incite so much hatred? Why do people read if they hate me so much. After my faked suicide tons of people said they would stop reading, but I get more hits now than I ever did before that. I am disabling anon commenter's again. I don't read them anyway, so if you want to leave a comment you have to sign in.

When I was younger I was not fat, but the kids always said I was fat and ugly. One time my senior year I was walking into school. I had just lost 20lbs, and died my hair blond, I had on a cute expensive outfit. I was feeling pretty good about myself . That is until a car full of boys coming back from lunch driving past me as i was walking back into school, yelled, "Anna, you'll always be ugly" . I'll never forget that day. From then on I never again bothered to dress nice, or do my hair. Every now and again I'll straighten it, but I never do anything with it aside from brush it the once a week I shower. Mostly though I let it go curly. When it starts to get greasy I put it into a pony tail if I have to go somewhere.

I know this post is going to get the haters commenting. How I should just do away with myself. Well for once in a long while I'm not suicidal

I'm not saying I never bullied anyone. There was this fat girl in our class that I made fun of. She was the only one lower than me popular wise.

I was considered a dork, because I never did my homework, I always sat by myself, and I would read non essential books while the teacher was lecturing. I kept to myself, I wore shitty clothes, band t-shirts, holey jeans, converse high tops, I still dress like this.As you can tell from my photos.

My ten year class reunion was last month, and I didn't show. Even though I lost all the weight I gained, I wrote a book. A shitty book, but a book non the less. I've lived all over the United States, I don't have to work. I know that almost all my classmates on facebook have bought my book.

I'm asking that all you people hate me stop reading my blog.

drugs, cysts, and such assorted topics.

2011-09-07T22:40:00.000-05:00

Well, I made a call to one of my dealers, and what do ya know...they answered. So I've been on a three day binge. Stupid, so fucking stupid. I was doing pretty well off dope and I come back to WI only to start all over again. I gotta get outta this place. I'm high right now, and I'm just numb. I feel nothing at all. Not happy, not sad, just dead. I don't want to kill myself. By the way, I never once said that I wanted to kill myself because my book wasn't selling. I've wanted to kill myself for many reasons, but no because of my book. I didn't expect it to sell very well.

Oh fuck, I itch so fucking badly.Scratch till I bleed. I remember that time Courtney Love was on David Letterman, and she was scratching like a mad fucking women. That's the time she did the Drew Berrymore number and flashed Dave. I knew she was loaded when I saw all that itching. Then on her last appearance she admitted to being high on blow, and prescription pain pills that night/ day when it was tapped.

I lost my MP3 player, so I'm listening to a lot of Pandora Internet radio on my Blackberry. I'm really liking me some Bloodhound Gang. Old school stuff, not the "Lets do it like they do it on the discovery channel". I also like to watch cyst being popped on youtube. I wish someone I knew had a cyst I could lance. I had that abscess and that was fun to lance. The abscess is healing up nicely btw.

I guess I'm ready to be done with dope. Its no longer fun for me. It makes me itch, and makes me numb emotionally. Of course I say this while high, and as soon as I'm not high I'll be crying for more dope. I'm such an idiot. Using again, was the dumbest move I've made in a while. At least I'm not physically hooked right now, and can stop rather easily. Today was going to be my last day using, but for whatever reason my dealer called and wanted to make sure I knew I could call anytime that his phone was turned on again. No sht I knew that, I called you yesterday, or was it the day before that? I'm not sure my days are blurring into one and other. We still have no cable, not until Friday at noon. Luckily we have a vast DVD collection and I've been watching movies one after the other. I've been doing some reading, but I nod out as soon as I get to the second paragraph. I nod out watching movies right after the previews. It seems the only thing I can keep my eyes open for is watching cysts being popped.

My mom told me about this cyst my dad had on his taint when they were in Arizona. It hurt my dad really badly, being in such per carious location, so one night my mom put a hot compress on it and my dad fell asleep with that compress on. The next morning my dad sat up and felt and herd a pop. He looked down and there was oodels and oodels of puss and blood on the bed, on his stomach. My mom said it stunk something fierce. Anyway, my mom knew she had to get the hard core or the thing would come back. So mom gets down by his asshole, and balls. She presses on the hole where all the puss came out of, and when she presses on it out falls (I say falls because it didn't pop out she said it fell out) a huge hard yellow pocket of puss. Behind that pocket of puss, she pressed again and more puss comes flying out. This time it shot out like Tommy gun. I guess she was posed with her face right in my dad's ass because it got her right in the eye. I guess this went on for five minutes or more. Finally it was empty. She said there was a hole on his taint that was round and deep enough to put a q-tip in. .

You know how hotels don't wash their comforters very often!? Well my parents were in a hotel room when they juiced this cyst and it was all over the comforter. I feel bad for whomever gets that room the next night.

When there's nothing left to burn you have to set yourself on fire.

2011-09-04T16:51:00.000-05:00

I'm back in Wisconsin. We drove straight thru yesterday, got home at 11pm. We get here tired, we left NC at 4am, and when we got to out condo the key didn't work on our deadbolt, so we had to call a locksmith. He ended up having to drill into it to get the door open. Our cable is turned off because we expected to be gone at least three months. So now were stuck here with no tv. One good thing about no tv is that I can read uninterupted.

First thing I did when I got back was call my connections for H. No one answered. Both go straight to voice mail. I worry that they are in jail. IF so thank God I was gone or I'd probably be in jail with them. I guess I'm staying clean. That's a good thing. I'm no longer sick. Just jonesin.

I really did go to North Carolina. We are going to California, Santa Rosa. This time my mom took the test before we get there. She normally does good on these tests. Unlike me, my mom is not dumb. I got my brains from my dad. Sorry dad.

I would go into how I feel, but fuck who cares!

2011-09-02T11:15:00.001-05:00

Things have gone terriably wrong here in NC. My mom had to take a test to get into the job at the hospital. It was a critical thinking test, and she did not pass. So that means no job. So now we have to drive home to Wisconsin tonight. I'm scared to go back to Wisconsin. I've been clean almost a full week. I didn't go on the Methadone program. I took BMelons advice and stuck it out. I'm free of dope, but back in Wisconsin its right at my fingertips and my will power isn't that strong.

God things seemed like they were going to be so nice down here. A nice apartment, a new start. Now its back to old ways. Do I really want to be clean? I ask myself that everyday. I wish I could say for sure yes, I want to be free and clear of dope. Its just not so easy. Not like my parents think. Not like you non users think. No offence.

Life seems unbearable, I am insufferable to be around. I mope around all day. I had to take a percocet to get myself to blog. I don't consider taking a percocet getting high, because I don't get high, I just even out. So the truth is I haven't been totally clean. I have used my dad's pills. God am I a loser.

My book isn't selling, big surprise. All my friends and family bought the book, and now nobody else is going to buy it. I think about killing myself, but I couldn't do that to my parents right now, they are under a lot of stress. Anytime I would kill myself would not be a good time. I'm not saying that anytime would be good. I just don't feel like living. No one can help me. My medications aren't working.

In Greenville NC

2011-08-30T14:41:00.000-05:00

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.

book out on e book

2011-08-23T15:43:00.002-05:00

My book is finally out on ebook. The book is called I Hate Myself and Want to Die. 7.99 is the price.

Bi Polar oppisates attract

2011-08-23T08:04:00.000-05:00

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 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 dr. shop in NC, or Methadone clinic.

Steal the life thats inside of me.

2011-08-21T12:45:00.000-05:00

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.

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

2011-08-17T02:03:00.001-05:00

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.

nothing to say

2011-08-11T21:53:00.000-05:00

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.

Who Anna Grace Young really is!!!

2011-08-08T20:50:00.000-05:00

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.

move on with your life

2011-08-03T00:23:00.001-05:00

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.

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

2011-08-02T18:03:00.000-05:00

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

2011-08-02T10:22:00.000-05:00

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.

2011-07-31T18:08:00.000-05:00

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.

All and all is all we are

2011-07-27T10:25:00.003-05:00

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.

clean

2011-07-26T17:36:00.000-05:00

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.

The last thing I need to do.

2011-07-19T12:09:00.001-05:00

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, and 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.

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

2011-07-18T22:06:00.000-05:00

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.

Broken Hymen

2011-07-17T18:18:00.000-05:00

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

2011-07-17T11:35:00.001-05:00

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.

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

2011-07-16T19:53:00.004-05:00

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.

Crazy family

2011-07-14T10:59:00.000-05:00

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.

2011-07-13T09:07:00.000-05:00

Bad, bad girl

2011-07-13T01:53:00.001-05:00

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 155lbs. 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.

Oh yes I got my first royalty check today, and it was 1,290 dollars. I sold over 3,000 books. I almost shit my pants. I had to buy a bag to celebrate.

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.

Oh yes, I've been watching True Blood, and Big Brother. Sunday nights are the best night on TV.

lick me up.

2011-07-10T17:23:00.000-05:00

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 Hate Myself and Want to Die(Paperback)

by Anna Young

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.

2011-07-10T09:15:00.000-05:00

I'm so sick. I want to moto buy a bag. ve out so bad, 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 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.

Jose

2011-07-06T13:04:00.000-05:00

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.

2011-06-28T17:21:00.000-05:00

So here is what really happened.

About two months ago, I started using Heroin really heavily. I began again in Arizona. I met a young taxi driver who I asked if he could get me heroin. Four hours later I was shooting up again. Man did it feel good. I left Arizona, and started taking my dad's Percocets. I missed cooking up a shot, and putting it into my veins. So I found a dealer here in WI.

Me and my best friend were going out to the bars every weekend. She wanted to break up with her boyfriend Jose. She kicked him out, and he had no place to go. So when my dad left for Arizona I let him stay here. We didn't stay in the same room. He had a connection for H. It was expensive but convenient. 50 dollars for a quarter. I shoot up a quarter at a time. Its decent H. After a while Jose and I started "going out". All we ever really did was get high together. I really started to like him. He was still in love with my best friend. I comforted him when he would cry because he missed his family.

He would tell me that he liked me and then would cry because my friend was seeing someone else. I was getting mixed signals. We slept together every night and he would cuddle me. It was nice to have a man's arms around me again.

After my dad got back from Arizona I started using more than ever before. My book was out, and I was ready to kill myself. So I started to get careless about how much I used. Four times I ended up in a cold shower after ODing. During this time I called the Methadone clinic and tried to get back in, but they wouldn't let me unless I went into a 30 day inpatient treatment program. So I planned on getting myself into Brown County Mental hospital where I detoxed for 7 days. After that I was let out to go to the Jackie Nitchke center. A rehab program.

Wait I'm leaving out a big part. About two weeks ago Jose robbed a little Mexican store with a bee bee gun. I had no idea he was going to do this. So that day, when my dad called and said I had a check for 75 bucks waiting for me at home, I was all over that. I needed money to get my fix. So I took the car of the people I was staying with. I had to move out of my parents house because I had stole some checks from them, and I was using. They didn't want me in their house. My friend (Jose's ex) told the police she thought Jose was living at my parents house. So when I came to get my 75 dollar check I open the door, and a cop takes me by the wrist, and sits me down in a chair, and starts asking me questions about a robbery. I had no idea this had taken place, and all I could tell them is that I woke up around noon, Jose got home around one pm, and what he was wearing. I also told them about the gun I seen. As soon as I got up that day, I was calling my dealer but he wasn't answering. He was out of state reing up. So I'm sick as a dog, and no one is holding.

When the cops got to me, I was so sick, I had to get up and vomit three times. I had many track marks on my arms and hands. I had been sharing needles, and ended up with cellulites in my hands and feet. An infection from using dirty needles. We all had Hep C, so we figured fuck it, I would be glad to get HIV so I knew how I'd die. Turns out I don't have HIV, I guess god doesn't want me to get HIV. Still I have to get tested again a few months as HIV doesn't show up right away.

Jose went to jail, and I had a mental break down. Meghan (my friend) had told the police that Jose was living at my parents. I didn't tell on him, because I didn't know what went on. As soon as the police left I went to the crisis center and got myself put into detox. After seven days I was sent to rehab, where I only made it twenty four hours. I came home, and now my parents don't trust me. So I don't have access to the car, I can't leave unsupervised. I feel like I'm fourteen.

Sorry this is all over the place, but writing about it is hard for me. I really had feelings for Jose, and now he's going to prison for a long time. He thinks I told on him, but I didn't. My friend or I should say ex friend Meghan is trying to say I was with who ever Jose was with when he robbed the store. She keeps saying that I'm going to end up in a jail cell. Who knows maybe I will. Although I am innocent. Jose protected me from this, by not telling me what he did. Non of this is Jose's fault. I fucked over my best friend, taking the side of her ex boyfriend. I take all the blame.

Since I went through detox I haven't touched a single drug. I feel this is the perfect time to get clean. Gledwood was right, I was on Methadone longer than I had been on H. It seems every time I get strung out I end up getting caught with in two months, and am fucked.

IF you don't believe that I'm an opiate addict look up my record. When I killed myself off on the blog you guys went to great lenghts to find out if I was really dead. Looking me up on facebook. I had like 30 friend request. I denied most of them. Gledwood was the only person I really wanted as a friend on FB. Looking at the obits online for Green Bay WI. IF I did really die it would be in the Oconto Falls Times Herald, I'll be buried there.

OH yeah, the Methadone clinic would only take me back if I completed a 30 day detox, and since I was only there for one day and jumped the fence I can't go back. The clinic says I need more help than they can give me. I can't go to the one in Appelton, which is 30 mins from Green Bay because Meghan goes there, and she would do anything to get me in trouble. She hates me now. Everyone hates me now. Not saying I don't deserve it. I do.

So there it is. The truth. A jumbled truth. My book is written like an illiterate. They call it Midwest prose, but in reality its just a bad writer, writing a book. Has anyone on here bought the book? I know most of you said you wouldn't buy the book. After so many mean comments I stopped reading them. Sorry. My fragile mind can't take all the negative remarks.

When I'm feeling more like writing I will. Right now I can't even remember what I just wrote. I know I reiterated myself too much.

Sorry

2011-06-24T16:48:00.000-05:00

I'm sorry. I've pissed off a lot of people, worried people, and hurt people. This was not a ploy to sell books, it was a way to end my blog. I was going to start a new one. Then I realized that I will miss my online journal. I'm sorry I said fuck off to everyone. I don't mean it. I am just trying to keep the comments from hurting my feelings. I do deserve your cutting words. SB, I'm so sorry to hear you have given up on me. I understand. I should have thought of you.

I did generate a lot of interest. I'm sure I'll lose readers over this, but it is my journal after all, and I can do whatever I want.

2011-06-24T10:26:00.000-05:00

You fuckers, I am alive. Jesus christ my mom has nothing to do with this. I was going to end my blog. I've had a hard time lately. That homeless guy I had staying with me ended up sticking up a store and getting caught. I was on a binge using so much trying to off myself, but always ending up in a cold shower. I'm clean now. I was in rehab for a day. I quit, and I was in brown county mental ward detoxing. Now my parents won't let me go anywhere by myself. My life sucks. I shake all day, dream about heroin every night. Knowing I can't use is killing me. I am going to take a gun to my head. When I am dead no one is going to belive me. My book is out, I sold about 300 copies. Most to a book store here in Green Bay.

Sorry to Gledwood. Everyone else, fuck off.

Anna Grace Young 2/2/1983 to 6/16/2011

2011-06-22T19:02:00.000-05:00

Anna Young killed herself June 16th. She put a pistol against her head and painted the wall with her brains and blood.(her words) I'm her friend who she left in her suicide note to tell what happened to her on her blog. She wanted to make sure everyone knew that she knew her book sucks. Still everyone should buy a copy, because I think its a good book. It will be out on ebook within the next month.

Anna wanted me to say Good Bye to everyone who reads this blog. She's sorry she couldn't keep it up. She wants me to delete the blog two weeks after posting this. OH yes, and a special sorry to Gledwood her "cyber husband".

I don't know what Anna would have said here, but I'm going to say Anna was a troubled girl, who made me laugh, cry, scream, and many other things. She was loved by her family very much, and she was very selfish to hurt her family and freinds this way.

Anna Grace Young
2/2/1983 to 6/16/2011

If you don't want this blog to be deleted voice your opinion.

2011-06-10T15:55:00.001-05:00

Trying to get clean with methadone treatmentmy book is out, it just came out today and only available at www.trafford.com until next week when its available on all book sites such as amozon and barns and noble. Go buy it now.

2011-06-04T20:24:00.001-05:00

That guy, the latino is not my boyfriend. He's just a friend who I think is hot. I'm pretty sure he's using me for money and a place to stay.

Although its true the H is 50 bucks a bag in this town, but its good.

2011-06-04T12:36:00.001-05:00

I'm with my latin boy toy. We haven't had sex yet, but I did go down on him for a few minutes I don't know if he is attracted to me. He calls me baby and sweetie in Spanish, we hold hands and cuddle, we sleep in the same bed. We only kissed one day for a little while, that was the day I went down on him.

The really fucked up thing is, he's the father of my best friend's daughter. She said she didn't mind, but she hasn't spoken to me in over a week. When I brought Jose to his Methadone clinic and she was there she didn't even look at me. Speaking of the Methadone I tried to get back in, but they won't let me unless I complete 30 days inpatient rehab. What the fuck good is that going to do for me? I've been through it 3 times already. I have the damn AA handbook memorized. There is no way I'm going inpatient again. So I'm shit out of luck. Perhaps a suboxone Dr. Will take me on!

I'm fed up with using. The only good shit in green bay is expensive, 50 dollars a bag. Even when I go to Chicago the H there isn't as good as this 50 dollar bags is. Its cheaper in chy town, and I know that is where my dealer gets his, but he won't tell me his source so I can go straight to the source and save some money. You know how dealers are, u can't ask them anything except maybe the price of the bag.

I got to go I'm watching jose fix his car.

update

2011-06-01T19:15:00.000-05:00

I've been on a binge. Using everyday. Today I had to wait until four pm to get anything because my dealer wouldn't answer his fucking phone. I've been at it for almost two weeks now, and I'm only getting mildly sick when I run out. I can go 24 hours before I need another shot. I'm for sure going back on the Methadone clinic. I can't take all the money its costing me to keep up this habit, and all the worrying about when will he answer his phone.

Other than that I have a Latino lover. He's sweet as can be. He doesn't use because he's on Suboxone. He doesn't know that I'm using. Starting out a relationship on a lie, not a good thing.

I haven't been keeping up on my favorite blogs. Sorry Gledwood. You know I love you cyber hubby.

I can't write anymore because I'm nodding out.

Boring

2011-05-25T17:41:00.000-05:00

I've been gone, because I've been using way too much. I went through my supply that was suppose to last me until the first of June in five days. I've also been having my best friend's ex boyfriend and father of her child staying with me for the past four days. He sleeps in my room, and I sleep in my parents room. He's on Suboxone so he doesn't use with me. I can tell he finds it hard to resist when I'm doing it. I try to keep it on the down low by saying I have to go to the bathroom, but I come out and am suddenly talkative, my eyes are all droopy, and my speech is slurred. He knows I wasn't in there pooping. My friend is pissed a little that I let him stay here until tomorrow morning, but she knows that I have a soft heart for people with no place to live. When my friend and her now ex boyfriend were fighting all the time I offered my friend to stay here with me. She never did though. I think my friend's ex who is staying over at my house is trying to make my friend jealous. My friend knows I would never cross that line. I even babysat for her little girl while my friend(lets call her Sheila)"Sheila's ex was here, the babies daddy. I stayed sober that day.

Well, I wasn't actually babysitting, "Shelia" just wanted her daughter to see her dad, and since he's at my house I was here for it. We went on a walk, she rode her tricycle along the boardwalk just outside our condo. Sheila's daughter has had a set back on potty training since her mommy and daddy split up. Sheila is already seeing someone else, and that makes(lets call him Jim) Jim really jealous. He keeps saying he's going to kill himself. So I set him up with a profile on Okcupid.com, and he's been messaging women ever since I set up the profile. I think it makes him feel better. Jim is a really nice guy, he's Latino and very attractive. Just not my type, not dirty enough.

Oh well, its a messed up situation. Tomorrow Jim leaves to go to the homeless shelter and me and Eleanor will be alone for a few days. My parents will be back next week. This weekend I'm going up north to see my aunt, I'm going up there with my other aunt.

I've got to go. I can barely keep my eyes open, and I still want to catch up on my favorite blogs.

2011-05-21T20:39:00.000-05:00

I'm high as fuck, and I have to go out with my good friend to a bar, because she just broke up with her boyfriend. I wouldn't be a good friend if I didn't go with her. There is no way I can drink on top of the H I took right before she got here. I also took four two mg xanax.

I stuck to my guns on the name of my book. Just the photo I'm putting on the back of the book. I can't keep my eyes open to write anymore.

I want to be a Harlem Globe trotter and get paid in candy, but life doesn't work like that.

2011-05-20T11:42:00.000-05:00

I went to see my shrink today, so I couldn't have my morning shot. I don't want to get physically addicted again, so I'm trying to use every 48 hours. Its not working out that way though. I had a poke as soon as I got home. My Doctor put me on Welbutrin(spelling error) along with my Lexapro to stave off this depression I'm in when I'm not nodding out. I went to get the pills filled and my insurance company wouldn't pay for it without pre authorization. So the pharmacy is going to call me when my shrink authorizes the Welbutrin. I tried to get my Adderal filled, but apparently its too early in the month to get them filled. I'm out early because I gave some to a friend's brother.

My publisher wants to change the name of my book, "I Hate Myself and Want to Die", so I'm suppose to be thinking of names. I pretty stuck on I hate myself and want to die. They think it will scare people off. Plus my cover of a girl hanging herself is too graphic. I love that picture. The publisher is mocking up some covers for me to choose from, and giving me hints on what they want me to name the book. A Life Upside Down, is what my coordinator has suggested. FUCK that I hate that title as much as I hate myself. I'm going to stick to my guns on the title I want to name it what the fuck I want to name it. I've been reading the book over and over, I have the damn thing memorized by now, and I think I swear too much in it. Mainly in the first part. Also I wrote the book like poor me, my life is so fucked up and I can't save myself. In the end we all have to save ourselves. People who buy the book( I hope all of you reading) will think I'm a big whiner. Have I ever whined on here? I don't think so. I don't remember all my posts. So I might just be a big whiner, or a big wiener.

Gledwood, I have turned over the cushions, but still they are going to notice the burns in the carpet. I laughed at that comment, like I wouldn't have the common sense to turn them over. LOL! I love you. HMU BTW! HMU means hit me up. Like email me.

Lackluster

2011-05-19T18:08:00.000-05:00

I am bored
I'd rather live in squalor
Sitting in my own filth
Collection of all my wealth
Your the only one
My favorite open sore
Come on, help me score
living outside your door
I'm a helpless whore
Beat me down onto the floor
Make me a patient
Leave me battered and bloody
Lick my wounds
Watch my moods
I burn as hot as the sun
I don't care I'm just done

I know it sucks, but I was high when I wrote it. I haven't written a new poem in over six months. I read that Adderal decrease creativity. No wonder I haven't written anything creative in over six months. No wonder this poem sucks. I found a good Hunter S. Thomson book, Screwjack. If I don't take another shot today I might actually get through the first chapter.

condrictions

2011-05-19T09:08:00.002-05:00

I got some heroin. I drove down to Chicago last night. I left at six didn't get home until around midnight. I am broke now, but I have enough heroin to last me until my parents come home, that is if I don't over do it. I also have food stamps, but I won't have cigarettes, which really sucks. There is a bunch of quarters in this big jar of change we have, I think I might be able to get a few packs with quarters, and assorted other change.

I'm going to be in trouble when my parents come home, I've been smoking in the house, and have cigarette burns in everything. At least five in their leather couch. All my clothes have burns in them. I got about three on the floor next to the couch. I keep nodding out with fucking cigarettes. I always tell myself I'm going to smoke outside, but then I get high, and all my good intentions fly out the window.

I'm going to shower today. Yesterday's post was rather graphic about gross stuff. Ah I wouldn't be me if I didn't share everything about my life with all of you. My stat counter says only one person has read that post. Less than 50% of people who come across my blog read for more than 5secs. If you google Anna Grace Young my blog pops up, so anyone who Googles Anna Grace Young clicks on my blog, and are like fuck this bitch is crazy, I'm not even gonna stick around. Then there's the people who don't even take a look they just accidentally clicked on my blog. You know whats really fucked up, my blogs title says I hate my face, but I have tons of photos of my face. Can you say condriction.

I can't keep my eyes open to finish this blog.

Good blog, but not updated often is http://www.heroinjunkie.blogspot.com/, I think I got it right, I have to go check again.

I probably have hemorrihoids

2011-05-18T09:49:00.004-05:00

My mood has shrunk down, and now I wish I was strangled in utero by my mothers umbilical cord. I called all my sources in Green Bay for Heroin, and no one is holding. At least I'm not sick. Fuck I'd rather be dead that have to live this fucking useless life. I hate being your fucking entertainment. Still I write this fucking blog. I love the comfort in being sad. I know where I am, how things are going to feel, if only I could sleep. I have been taking Ambien at all times of the day, but it doesn't put me head down. It actually makes me more anxious. I could take being sad if it weren't for the anxiety. Waiting on call backs from dealers, Christ that makes me so fucking anxious, I have no finger nails left from biting them to the cuticles waiting on dealers.

I was so happy yesterday, and then I wake up this morning, (yes I can sleep at night) and my hands are shaking from anxiety. My nose is runny, I keep yawning, my eyes are watering. Its as if I'm making myself dope sick. Just mild shit, diarrhea, but I expect that from using. I was constipated for 10 fucking years. Not having opiates to rely on when I'm sad is truly a pathetic sight. I don't shower, my crotch stinks. My armpits stink. My hair is all greasy. My underwear have streaks in them from not taking time to wipe good. My anus bleeds when I take a shit. I think its still torn from having anal sex four years ago. Then being constipated on top of that for 10 years, I probably have hemorrhoids. Fuck what am I talking about.

I would go back to the Methadone clinic, but I'm losing weight so fast off of it, I don't want to be fat ever again. I'm down to 160lbs, don't know how many stones that is, but its a lot better than the 215lbs that I was. I have no money for new clothes, so I just wear this white dress all the time, and its too big on me, so my boobs fall out all the time. My bras are too big on me, so its pointless to put one on. At least my boobs don't sag, I was so worried about that with loosing this weight.

Clean

2011-05-17T13:48:00.001-05:00

I'm clean as a whistle. No drugs since Sunday. I don't even know why I used on Sunday because I wasn't sick anymore. I'm not sick now. In fact I'm happy. This could because of my mood disorder, but it could also be because I am just happy. I'm not really going to get into my mood here.

Even though I'm happy and without drugs, doesn't mean I'm still not craving them. I'm having using dreams at night and when I take a nap. Always with a huge syringe and needle, and black tar Heroin. Always in my left arm where I used to have a gusher. Its long since dried up, but in my dreams it still gushes. I've also been biting my tongue a lot. I have no idea what that is about. Maybe I just have a huge tongue.

I missed reading Gledwood's blog, but I went through and caught up on his blog. IF you want to read it click here Gledwood's blog. Gledwood's been cleaning his house. Thank the fucking lord. He's also back on antiphyscotic meds. I just wish that me and Gledwood could be happy at the same time, get our shit together and meet already. Life is short, and I'm getting old. I'm almost 30 years old. I want to meet him before I turn 30. I want to at least visit London before I'm 30. Depends on how many copies of my book are sold. As soon as its out I will have a link on my blog for those of you few who want to read it. Wouldn't it be nice if Gledwood and I could both be writers, and do it for a living. That's a rhetorical question geared at me.

My life has been very boring lately. All I've done is clean. The house is spotless now, and I have nothing better to do than update my blog, and chain smoke cigarettes. Which I'm going to go do right now.

Who knows maybe I'll get some dope tonight. Why? I'm happy. Jesus Christ this drug has such a pull over me.

Karma Police

Where'd you park the car? Where'd you park the car? Where'd you park the car? Where'd you park the car?

2011-05-13T12:13:00.000-05:00

The sky is moody today. I'm in withdrawals, sick as a dog I am. Although my mood is elevated. I feel like I'm in a manic episode. This morning I played Radiohead KidA really loud. Bothering the other tenets in the building. I've never had a sick manic episode. I keep repeating words over and over, along with sentence fragments. Not able to get all of the sentence out. I'm moody just like the sky. I'm sick, but not so sick that I'm on the phone with every possible source of Heroin or Dilauded. I'm not Dr. shopping. In whole I'm not doing what I usually do when I'm sick.

I have all these weird thoughts flying at me. Like I wonder how fish gills work? Did fish always have gills? Whats the difference between fish and paint thinner? They both smell bad. Was I born with a sixth toe and my parents just didn't tell me? Would Radiohead not wear underwear on the road? This is all coming at me at once. Then I feel the need to move. Not just legs jerking like usual when I'm sick, but wanting to dance, and scream. My dog thinks I'm going insane. Maybe I am. Maybe this is a drug induced mania. I'm thinking it probably is. I've been without any opiates for two days now. Tomorrow I get more, but why when I feel this good mentally?

I'm sorry Gledwood for not commenting on your blog, and I see you didn't blog yesterday either. I was in no mood to do anything yesterday. In fact I took a razor blade to my wrists, but I woke up this morning with blood all over my silk sheets, and I was still alive. Maybe I'm just glad to be alive, and that's why I feel so good while sick. I don't want to just sit in bed all day with sickness, I want to be productive. Its like my body is wanting to do one thing, and my mind is wanting to do another. I'm going to do the laundry. Fuck YES! That's what I'm going to do. Fuck drugs. They suck. Keeping me nullified. What a fucking bunch of shit. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. I think I'm going to go hide in a closet with no light and just let my mind keep me entertained for the rest of the day...after I do laundry.

Everyday is exactly the same

2011-05-11T12:32:00.000-05:00

So I'm out of dope, and out of money. I'm suppose to go to the Methadone clinic tomorrow, but I don't want to, and I don't think I can afford to go. With gas prices as high as they are, and driving 60mins everyday, there and back will cost a shit load in gas money. So I'm going cold turkey. If I don't blog for a few days don't worry I'm still alive, just very sick.

I had some Methadone today that I had bought off the black market. So I'm not sick today, and probably won't be tomorrow as Methadone has a long half life. I have one Dilauded pill I bought from a friend who just so happened to have some Dilauded and Oxycontin. This person was surprised that I chose the Dilauded instead of the OC. Most people around here don't know what Dilauded is unless they are a hard core addict. Everyone has herd of Oxycontin. Hillbilly Heroin vs Hospital Heroin. I pick hospital Heroin any day of the year over hillbilly heroin. My capitalization is off huh.

So I've had two comments say it would be interesting if I were to meet Gledwood in real life and blog about it or make a video out of it. I'm all up for it when I get better, but I don't think Gledwood is up for it. He likes his privacy. Gledwood isn't well enough to get it together to clean his house, I doubt he's well enough to get it together to come to NYC and meet me. Of course I'd be willing to go over to London, but I don't want to intrude on him. Who knows how well we'd get on in real life? I really do want to meet him though. I wish he felt the same way. Can't force someone to want the same thing you want. No matter how much you wish you could.

So I feel like today is yet another mundane day. Everyday is the same. Its so fucking lame. Another Nine Inch Nails song. Every Day is exactly the same. As always its for you.

Second post of day

2011-05-10T17:27:00.000-05:00

So I'm totally out of Heroin now. I used up my last shot a few hours ago. Right now I'm sure I can go cold turkey, get all this shit out of my system. Yet I know as soon as I wake up tomorrow I'll be counting the hours until my Methadone clinic appointment is. I do have some Methadone that I bought on the black market, but its not going to last me very long. If I could just ween myself off that way I'd be fine.

I really don't want to go back on Methadone. Same with Suboxone. Come on for the first time in years I want to be truly clean. Most who read this blog, know I never have wanted to be totally clean before. I've always envisioned using on the side. It turns out I can't just keep a chip, I'm either full blown strung out, or I'm on Methadone and or Suboxone.

As far as my mood, I can't really tell you what my true mood is, because I'm high. This morning when I woke up before a poke, I was depressed. My usual depressed self. I cry because of anything, even when high. I'm going to be having a tough time coming up in the next few days, and I'm scared. Thank God, I don't have to put on a brave face for anyone. For Eleanor I have to be somewhat active. I have to take her outside every morning to go potty.

The editor emailed me today, and said I'm very honoured to have edited a book by such a young talented woman such as yourself. I scoffed, thanks for lying. I read the book, I fucking wrote the book, I know it sucks. I know I'm definitely not a young talented woman.

I wish Gledwood would comment on my blog. I miss him, its been two days since I've opened my laptop. I was ungodly high for two full days. Got to go, I just got an email. Perhaps its Gledwood.

How to disappear completely

2011-05-10T11:12:00.000-05:00

Today the sky is gray, and threatening. I can hear thunder rolling in the distance. Its the perfect weather for the mood I'm in. I only have two shots left, and I'll probably use it in one shot to get high. My tolerance has shot up which sux. I'm lonely here all by myself, and poor Eleanor is lonely for my parents. I'm so sick of daytime TV. I can't bring myself to shower. I haven't anyone to shower for. Why fucking bother? I'll save a shower for when I feel complete shit, and the only thing that will make me feel the least bit better is a shower. I can tell my period is coming because I'm broken out with three pimples. Although since I've been on a heroin binge for the past two or three weeks I might not get my period this month.

I'm suppose to go to the Methadone clinic on Thursday, but I don't really want to. I really want to kick the habit cold turkey. I'm broke so there is no way I can get anything, which is really the perfect time to kick the habit. Plus I haven't been using more than a month, so it should be rather easy for me to kick it.

The house needs to be cleaned, but I can't bring myself to do that either. I'm so fucking lazy, and I feel so fucking pathetic. I have to go to the post office today, but I don't want to leave the house. Yesterday I never walked out the front door.

I'm out of Adderal because I sold it to a friend who needed it, and without speed I'm super lazy. Plus its going to make kicking a lot harder. Having speed when I'm withdrawing keeps dopamine in my brain. Switch on addiction for the other. I might call my doctor and say I lost my pills, and see if he'll fill them early. Although I highly doubt as I just got them filled last week. There are other pills of mine that I need refilled, but I'm too lazy to go to the pharmacy to get them filled.

My friend owes me 200 dollars, Which I need to live off of for the next two weeks. I hope my friend pays me back asap. Although if I have that 200 bucks I might go out and spend it on dope.

I wish that Gledwood and I lived closer. He's my best friend and I relate to him more than any other person in the whole wide world. Its not fair that he lives over 3,000 miles away. I hope he's in a better mood than I am today.

This post is so fucking dull. I'm so fucking dull. I wish someone would just put a gun to my head, and pain the walls with my blood.

The condom is the glass slipper of our generation.

As always this song is for Gledwood, and everyone else who want to disappear completely

say it isn't so.

2011-05-07T08:25:00.000-05:00

Today I go in to Weight Watchers and get weighed in. I think I lost about three pounds. Which would put me down to under 170lbs. I need to buy new clothes, because all my clothes are too big on me. Plus I need summer clothes. I don't have any money to spare this month, so I can't buy any clothes. I also have to mail my dad's pills down to him. So I have to get to the post office before noon, when they close. I'll be glad when those pills are out of my sight. They just seem to call my name. Even though I have dope right now, I want to rely on those pills when I run out.

On Thursday I go to the Methadone clinic. I won't be going to the one in Green Bay, but the one in Appelton WI. The clinic in Green Bay wouldn't let me back in unless I completed a 90 day in patient treatment. I hope nothing happens to me before Thursday. I'm scared that I'll end up in jail again. God help me.

I know I was miserable on Methadone for those four or five years I was on it, but this time I'm not going above 30mgs. I might go sick for a while, but my body will get used to only 30mgs of Methadone. I'm also worried about gaining weight back. With Weight Watchers, I've changed my eating habits. I also work out now days. As soon as I get on the Methadone I'm going to go back to water aerobics. I still walk on the treadmill three to four times a week. Plus I walk Eleanor(my dog) every day. Some days for a couple of hours. So I've made lifestyle changes, which should keep me loosing the weight. I must admit the junky diet works really well. I loose weight a lot faster when I go sick.

I'm embarrassed that I wrote that sex scene yesterday. Ah, who cares. I'm sure if some guy reads it he'll get a little excitement out of it. Like Brucey, Valaire's husband. I guess he read it on the toilet, and when he was done the key board was all sticky. Hmm, wonder what he did while reading it?

I think Eleanor is depressed. She misses my dad. So I've got to go, and smoke a cigarette.

I wanna fuck you like an animal.

2011-05-06T13:42:00.000-05:00

I'm in a great mood today, as I'm high. Although Eleanor(my dog) has something wrong with her ears. She keeps shaking her head. I'm afraid she has ear mites. She could have gotten them from the mouse I think I've seen scurring around after Eleanor goes to bed. Today I gave her a flea bath in case its fleas. I'm going to go to Petco and buy some ear mite medicine just in case its ear mites. See I'm pretty productive when I'm high. Not when I'm loaded, but when I do just enough to catch a good buzz. Its like a glow, my body feels great, my mind feels great.

Today I have to vacuum, wash the floors, run the dishwasher, do some laundry. Then my friend is coming over and we are going to the bar. I won't drink because why drink when I already feel great. Drinking just makes me depressed. The other day when I was waiting on dope, I drank Vodka mixed with Crystal light lemonade. I ended up so depressed. I don't know how Gledwood can drink without getting even more depressed.

OH yes, when I was on the phone with my friend Kaycee I told her that I was clean. Well, it turns out she reads my blog, and knew I was bullshitting her whenever I talked about sobriety. Sorry Kaycee. I'm just embarrassed to be a drug addict, and your doing so well. When will I ever get my shit together?

Gledwood is in a very bad way right now, and I ask those of you who pray that you keep him in your prayers. Otherwise just send him good wishes.

So my book has been edited, and this is what they told me. "your book was written more like a screen play, so we had to do a content editing instead of just line editing." I guess I used too much dialogue, also my sentence structure was terrible. Which they tried to put in a nice way, but it was a nice way of saying you suck at writing, and we had to do a shit ton of editing. I must say they didn't change the book drastically, but they did fix my writing drastically. I never did proof read my book before editing, I figured that was their job, but with my next book I'm for sure going to do proof reading, and by a book on sentence structure to make sure my sentences are structured correctly. If I were not high right now, I'd be more down on myself about this. Right now being high I feel like I can learn to be a better writer. I've already finished my second novel/manuscript called teenage angst. I'll post a tid bit for you guys in my next post.

Both my parents are in Arizona again. So its just me and Eleanor(my dog) here in Wisconsin. I emailed Jess(a guy I used to sleep with and was obsessed with for a few months last summer) and asked him to come over and give it to me hard. So next Wednesday we are going to fuck. I can't wait, I've lost nearly 45lbs. He hasn't seen me since I lost the weight. My boobs are smaller, but so is my ass. Hopefully he'll be turned on. When he gets here I'm going to be just sitting around naked with my dildo out. As soon as he gets in the door, I'm going to undress him, and get down on my knees and suck his cock. I'm going to suck his cock until he's just about ready to cum, then I'm going to make him watch me masturbate until I cum. After that I'm going to lay him down in my bed, and get on top of him and his hard cock, and I'm going to ride him reverse cowgirl style. Gently play with his balls. I'll ride him slowly letting my pussy come right up to the tip of his cock, almost all the way out, then I'll come down on him slowly, but hard. All the while I'll be playing with his balls, and my nipples. I'm going to go just a little bit faster, then I'm going to take his cock out of my pussy, and suck on it again. Then right before he cums I'm going to get into doggy style position so he can put his cock in me hard, and fuck me hard and fast until he cums. When he pulls out I'll quickly turn over and let him cum on my tits. I love to see a man cum. Then feel the warm cum on my tits.

I wanna fuck you like an animal. As all songs I pick this one is for Gledwood.

I love writing about that. My libido is pretty low right now, but I still need some cock. I'm too high right now to be able to cum, but if I weren't I would be fingering my clit, and using my dildo. My pussy does get wet just thinking about Jess coming over. Of course I'll be thinking of someone else while I'm fucking him. Someone I don't know what he looks like, but I do have enough info to make it possible for my mind to form a picture.

Graphic post, view discretion is advised

2011-05-05T15:59:00.000-05:00

Graphic content. A man shoots himself at a press conference in front of cameras. His name is Bud Dwyer.

My freind Kaycee, and a song for Gledwood

2011-05-05T12:45:00.000-05:00

Last night I got a call from my oldest friend. We've been best friends since third grade. We spent every waking minute together. We were so close, nothing could separate us. Our personalities are very similar. We both have too much empathy for our fellow human beings. We put ourselves last. Kaycee is her name, and she is and always has been very popular. Even though I was her best friend I wasn't popular. Ha, imagine that.

Kaycee and I stuck by each others side until High school started. I started popping pills, drinking, chasing any kind of high to make me feel better about myself. Kaycee always held a place in her heart for me, and saw I was going down the wrong path. She tried to save me a million times, but I wouldn't listen.

Today Kaycee lives in Milwaukee, has a great job, a great rich husband, a beautiful home, she's an aunt, and her sister has another baby on the way. I know she's a great aunt, as she is great with kids. Unlike myself. Don't get me wrong I love babies, but when they get into the two's I get fed up with them. I still love them though. Kaycee is the greatest person in the world, as far as I'm concerned. She doesn't let her wealth change her, She's smart as a whip. Makes me laugh whenever I talk to her.

Kaycee is the same age as me. She has a career, a husband that adores her, money, she goes on vacations all the time, she has a nice car. I should be jealous of her, but I'm not. She deserves everything she's got.

I've had me a poke this morning, as my connection came through. My mood has been enhanced by a chemical. I wonder if I hadn't acquired this addiction if I would be as successful as Kaycee? Where would my life have gone?

Even when me and Kaycee were super close, I had thoughts of suicide. Being the least popular person in our group was hard. Being ugly, stupid, lazy, and always saying the wrong thing makes a person hate themselves. This was always my burden. Kaycee kept me alive when I was sure I was going to kill myself. I never made an attempt on my life until Kaycee and I parted ways in high school. Not until addiction took over my life.

I have to go now. Important things going on. Such as me having a poke.

I'll leave you with a song I find fits me very well. As always I dedicate it to Gledwood

Your like a sore on the roof of my mouth that won't heal because I can't stop tounging it.

2011-05-04T17:56:00.001-05:00

That's not a bad thing Gledwood. It just means I can't forget about you. Even when I try to go as high as possible or as low as possible. This song is about loosing your mind.

For everyone who has ever lost their mind. Myself and Gledwood included.

Fantasy, ideations

2011-05-03T12:34:00.000-05:00

Not much new today. I'm depressed even after a poke. I started watching a movie about a writer who gains literary success for his first book, but the rest of his books are flops, and he ends up killing himself. So typical. I could see that ending coming a mile away. I gave up on Television and started reading Wild Boys by Burroughs again. Wild Boys isn't my favorite book, but its better than whats on TV. Every half hour I start to cry. I'm going to Chicago in a few hours, and I don't know if I can make the voyage. Plus the contact down there hasn't called me back to tell me if things are ready. I'm buying a rather large amount. 200 dollars worth. Almost two grams. I've been thinking of offing myself with this batch. It calms me down to think about the idea of killing myself. It makes me anxious to know I don't have the guts.

I need to shower, but can't bring myself to do so. I hate getting wet. Then having to let my hair dry. Perhaps I'll have another poke, and things will seem better. I use the word seem, because in reality things are shit, but with a chemical enhancement things seem less shitty.

I keep putting my head in my hands. When I sigh I then inhale I can smell my own scent. I'm not so dirty as to stink. I just smell what my dog smells on me, a lot less intense though.

Let me go through my suicide fantasy. First my dad leaves for Arizona on Thursday. I'm left alone with Eleanor. I put out enough food for Eleanor until a week from Friday. I clean the whole house meticulously. I get really high on Friday night. I stay up 24 hours. I write my note, leaving behind my last request along with the songs I want played at my funeral. All Elliott Smith songs. I feel they are soft, depressing songs, great for a funeral. I put out two pee pee pads for Eleanor so she has a place to go potty while I lie on floor dead. At noon on Friday I take an overdose of Clonazepam, Ambien, and Heroin, plus Methadone, I die an half hour to an hour later. Poor Eleanor doesn't understand what's going on. She probably lays by my cold body. After a few days of my parents calling they call the police to check on me. My body is found, and I'm starting to decompose. Perhaps Eleanor has eaten parts of me. My parents come back to plan my funeral, Eleanor has someone to take care of her. (I thought about killing Eleanor with me, but I think that's even more selfish than killing myself)

Don't worry, I'm not going to do it.

The low down.

2011-05-02T18:29:00.002-05:00

First things first, he didn't notice. *sigh* Second, I'm going to Chicago tomorrow for more dope. *sigh*
Third, Osama Bin Landen is dead. *uh, oh well* My dad made me look at the picture of Bin Laden shot in the head. Once he had me look up be headings, and we found one. I watched the damn thing. I thought they would cut his head off with a sword in one fell swoop, but nope the took a knife, and it took time. You could hear him trying to scream even though his throat was cut. I still have a hard time thinking about that. Okay enough of the macabre.

I still have some H left over from the g that I bought, but soon it will be gone, and I thought I'd stock up.

Now I just have to worry about my dad getting sick, or having back pains. I bought some vicoden from a friend and put it in the Tylenol for him. If his back is hurting and he needs something extra he always goes for the Tylenol. Hopefully that will work. I just got enough for him until his pills come this week. He leaves before they get here, which means he's going to have to go two to three days without any opiates.

I was so worried about this pill thing, that all I did today was lay in bed with my dog. I have silk sheets that I bought, and a nice down comforter that I bought, and its really comfortable. I only did a small shot of dope today, and I can feel that I'm already getting sick.

I woke up this morning with the shakes. I don't think it was withdrawal shakes, I think it was nerves. I put off fixing until around noon, and I layed in my bed just wondering what my dad was going to do when he noticed. Then around 5, about an hour ago, I decided I needed to make plans for more dope. So I texted so and so. They said tomorrow, I said okay. I'm excited to see what kind I get. Brown or white? Who knows maybe black tar. I doubt it. I had been listening for my dad to do his pills all day, at 5:30 I went over to a friends house to pick up so and so's money to bring down to Chicago with me tomorrow so I can get so and so some dope. When I got home I looked at my dad's pill box and it was full, and he didn't say a word. I don't know what to do with myself now. I'm still worried. I feel like scum for this.

I also called the Methadone clinic today, and they can't get me in until the 18th and that's not even for sure. My ex councilor said they may not even take me back on because of my mental health problems. How can they not take me because I have such severe mental health issues? Isn't that against the fucking law. I want help to stop, or I know I'll die, but now the Methadone clinic has to put my case through a review. I could have screamed.

So that's the low down.

satisfaction for the day

2011-05-01T14:27:00.001-05:00

Well, last night was a bad night. But today was a good day so far. Probably my last good day for a long time.

I'll start with last night, as you know I got some Methadone to hold me over for hopefully two days. As Methadone has a long half life. Methadone peaks about three hours after you take it. So I didn't want to waste the wellness Methadone brought me, so I stayed awake until 3am, and dreaded getting up figuring I was going to be sick. At six am my phone rings, I was sound asleep, but I woke up and looked to see who was calling. I didn't plan on answering it, but it was a name I knew might be a lead in the search for Heroin. So I answer the phone all groggy. The person on the other line says, your going to owe me for this one. I said,"what are you talking about"? This person says I got a gram of H for 120 dollars. I said, "yeah, but its probably cut to shit". This person says, "no I've used some of it, and its good shit". I say to this person, "I'm on my way over".

I leave the house at quarter to seven in the morning, and drive thirty minutes to this person's house. When I walk in this person has their works laying all over. I asked how much of the gram do you have left? This person tells me they had two grams, and is willing to sell me the left over gram for 130 dollars. I can even fix there, and decided if its good enough to buy. So I fix up, and god granted my wish, its good dope. I buy up my gram, and go home. At home I bang up .04gs and get loaded. I started this post at about 9am and its 2pm now. I keep nodding off, and having to delete a bunch of zzzzzzzzzzzxvccccccccccccccc;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;; bullshit.

Now tomorrow is the day I dread. I can't get as high as I am today and stay in my room with the computer and write and nod, I have to come out of my room and act normal. Which will be easy with a small shot of H. Tomorrow is the day my dad fills his pill box. Not even being this high makes the worry go away about tomorrow. Not just tomorrow. If he doesn't notice tomorrow, he'll notice when he starts to go sick. If he can just go without noticing until the 6th when he's almost a thousand miles away from me, then I'll be okay. Until then the stress of this is killing me. I'm never bothering with my dad's pills ever again. Hopefully by the time my parents come back I'll be on Methadone once again.

Now I ask you to pray that my dad takes mercy upon me. If I was in his position I would go ballistic, and want to kill my kid. That and the disappointment of knowing my child relapsed after a good amount of clean time. I'm disappointed in myself, I don't need anyone else to be disappointed in me. Those of you who hate me, I'm going to get mine. I wouldn't put past getting whipped by the belt. A 28 year old women gets whipped by the belt of her father. I feel like Frances Farmer. Either that or he'll scream at me, and call me junky whore. That he can't stand the sight of me. I have a plan to have my cousin come pick me up. So I'm not in his sight all day.

Mostly about Gledwood.

2011-04-30T22:09:00.000-05:00

I only got 20mgs of Methadone, but it was free. Methadone should hold me over for 48 hours. Then what? Sick, fuck I don't want to go sick. This 20mgs of Methadone isn't even holding off the sickness. Thank God for real friends, or I would be without Methadone completely. I'd be sick right now, well worse off. My luck with drugs is so very bad. I can't get a proper shot of H. I was suppose to get some H tonight also, but now I have to wait for up to a week. Fuck I hate Green Bay. I should move down to Chicago.

Right now I'm watching a British movie with Robert Pattionson in it. Something about a bad mom. Poor Robert Pattionson has to play a teenager and he's 24-25. Damn that boy is hot. Nothing compared to my dear cyber husbandGledwood darling. There is a lot of bloody this and bloddy that. Bloody hell, I can't keep track of the bloody movie. Bugger off now, is another thing they say. Do me head in why don't ya. Oh I'm down with all the British lingo.

Oh at long last I feel the Methadone kicking in. Bloody Christ that took long enough. Now that I've taken all 20mgs of the Methadone I won't have any opiates in my system when my dad finds out his pills aren't actually his pills. FUCK ME! Please people pray for me to get some opiates soon. I would do with Vidcoden/Hydrocodone. I don't care if the Tylenol kills my liver. I have hep C already my liver is probably scared to bloody hell.

I can't get off the British accent. I just adore listening to it. A Brit could read to me from a dull book and I would be captivated just by the accent. I wish there were more Brits here in Wisconsin. There were a few in Hawaii, but mostly Australian's. I knew a few Irishmen in Hawaii. I couldn't understand a word on of them said. I also met a Scottish man who I really couldn't understand. The slang over in Scotland is quite hard to decode.

Gledwood, I've put this song up before, but this time I dedicate it to, since I have a boy hangover on you once again. It seems I get on these tangents or emotional rollercosters where I believe Gledwood would save me from myself. Therefore I'm in love with him. Its quite pathetic actually. Not that Gledwood doesn't deserve affection and love, but that I don't even know him in reality, and fall in cyber love with him over and over again is pathetic. He does these sweet things, and has Valarie comment and makes me smile even when I'm in a black mood. Why do I have to be nearly 3,000 miles away. I think at least we would make a great friends. I've only got one good friend. I'm sorry if I embarrassed you Gleds.

Anyway here's the song for you.

poor me, pitty party.

2011-04-30T09:04:00.000-05:00

Well as of this morning all of my dad's pills are gone. He has two days left, and then nothing. How could I be so selfish to let another addict go sick. He will never allow me to give him Methadone I bought on the black market, so I plan on trying to dose him. Not with much, as I'm afraid his tolerance isn't what mine is. 10 to 20mgs is what I plan on giving him in his soda or coffee. I'm not sure what amount of Oxycodon 5mgs is compared to Methadone. I'll have to research it. I know at the clinic they start you off at 30mgs no matter what your addicted to, and how potent it is.

My post last night was in the heat of the moment. I was sobbing, and felt so guilty and I just wanted to end it all, but I have things to live for. Plus if I killed myself and my dad didn't have his pills he would go nuts. He may even kill himself. He has told me if I died he would kill himself. So in reality if I kill myself I'll be committing murder. If there is a hell, I will surely burn.

I have my book coming out and that is a good reason to stay alive. Not hurting my parents even worse than disappointing them with my relapse is a good reason to stay alive. My book Teenage Angst is a good reason to stay alive to see if I find a publisher, along with the book I'm writing now about my relationships with men. A very sexual book. No title as of yet. Notice the theme here all about me. Narcissistic! Self involved! Selfish! Stupid! All words that describe me.

I'm also getting some Heroin today. I'm going to save that for before I go back to the Methadone clinic so I have it in my system, and not Methadone so the clinic doesn't know I've been buying Methadone off the black market. They might not except me if I'm using Methadone without a prescription. I'm not sure of their policy. Even though when I went to the Methadone clinic in Hawaii I had Methadone in my system and they dosed me that day, but I also had a prescription from a doctor in Michigan who gave me the Methadone in lue of Dilauded.

I wish that my favorite bloggers blogged more. Come on Bmelonsandlemondade, Gledwood, John(pinsandgrins) Danny, Melodylee, and the rest of you I follow. HeroinHead hasn't put out a new post in ages. Aside from the one the other day in respect of a writer who died.

What else can I say, were all gay. Stolen words.

The whole wide world.

2011-04-29T20:32:00.000-05:00

I'm in so much pain right now. I'm not sick, but so depressed it hurts. I keep thinking Anna, you can stay alive to see your book through. THE BOOK IS SHIT! The title rings true, I really do hate myself and want to die. I can't take credit for the title though, I got it from reading Heavier that Heaven about Kurt Cobain, where I learned Kurt wanted to title In Utero, I hate myself and want to die.

Some people read this blog and think I'm interesting, and can write about my life honestly. In reality this blog is all I have. It saves me from the suicidal thoughts rolling around and around in my head. Right now I can't stop crying. I'm so lonely, and just wish I had the guts to end it all.

I know this post is going to be every one's least favorite, but I'm writing it for myself.

I always wanted to be a singer songwriter. Turns out I have no talent. I have no ear for music. I love to listen to it though. I was so inspired by Kurt Cobain, and then he went and killed himself. I think fuck I don't even know the real person that Kurt was, and our up bringings are nothing alike. The only thing we have in common is an addiction and depression, millions of us do have that in common with him. I just wanted to be something special and it turns out I'm just normal. Everything I hate about other people, is what I hate most about myself.

Oh god, my eye makeup is all over my face. Why doesn't lighting strike me down right now. Why are we made to suffer through this life. Why do I drive past people on the street and wonder how they can wake up each morning not needing any kind of drug to stave off the sadness. How can they be so blissfully unaware? How are they happy? Sometimes driving past a family I just burst into tears and wish I could switch brains with them.

Do I make myself so sad? How do I stop? Its so hard to get off drugs, and I did it once, it just seems so impossible now.

I just don't know what to do with myself. I'm so lost. This world is so big, and my place is so small. I'm afraid if I die with no children I won't have anything for anyone to remember me by. This scares me to no end. I'm so vain, and narcissistic that I can't even let myself die without leaving something behind for people to remember me by.

I can't stand when people think I think I'm anything like Kurt Cobain. I'm nothing like him, I'm Anna Young and I have my own issues, and problems. I don't need his.

I can't say anything more.

Guns and pills

2011-04-29T12:17:00.000-05:00

That damn wedding is finally over, and now the TV is recapping it all. My God, I'm so sick of this wedding bullshit. If I ever get married Las Vegas and a drive thru window will do for me. Although I would like a small wedding on the beach in Hawaii. Small! I would also like to be loaded when I'm married.

Sometimes I get really high, and I get sick of it when its wearing off and that euphoria is gone, but your pupils are still pined and you keep nodding off no matter how hard you try to stay awake.

I'm off to weight watchers, I know that I lost 5lbs from weighing myself on our home scale. This junky diet is really working.

When my dad notices that I took all his pills, I'm afraid he won't leave for Arizona, and he won't let me go anywhere. I had a nightmare, that I was shooting up in my room, and my sister was there, and she saw me. She told my parents. My parents then ripped my room apart taking all my drugs and flushing them down the toilet. Trying to trap me in the house. As I tried to pack my things, and make my way over to the homeless shelter, or over to my friends house. I knew though in my dream that my friend couldn't help me out because she's in a very precarious position in her home life. Plus my friend is trying to stay clean, and wouldn't want me around using. I felt like a teenager not a 28 year old adult, who can leave anytime I want to.

If I get lucky and my dad doesn't notice the switch out of pills I did, I'm going to send a note with the pills down to Arizona that tells him that I took the real pills, and that I'm going back to the Methadone clinic.

Yesterday I saw my shrink, and I told him I was using, and you would never guess what he did. He gave me Narcan in case I overdose. Which was really cool of him. Although I will be by myself using and if I OD, I'm not going to get that Narcan in my system myself. He gave me the liquid form, and wrote me out a script to syringes to inject the Narcan. That's the first time my insurance ever paid for syringes. I have to keep the Narcan in the refrigerator, so I told my dad its a drug like Suboxone that keeps me from using. I told my friend that I got this Narcan, and if she knows I have Heroin and she calls which she does everyday and I don't answer that she should come over and give me a Narcan shot. It takes time to OD, it takes time for your lungs to stop working. I've never herd of someone ODing instantly. Its probably happened. Kurt Cobain took a mega dose, that would kill three men over again, and still he had the time to put a shot gun in his mouth and pull the trigger. I wonder if he shot up so much dope to make sure the gunshot didn't hurt, or if he just wanted to make sure he died? Both probably.

Gledwood, will you marry me? Just thought I would ask. I loved your commentary on the wedding. Your so witty. My ideal Internet partner.

So, the point of this post is like the wedding today, I'm royally fucked. Dad's going to get sick. May 5th can't come fast enough. That's the day my dad leaves for Arizona. I will be free, but bored, and full of guilt, until his pills come via fed ex around the 6th, and I can overnight them to him with the note.

Sorry to go on and on about this, but its the only thing I'm thinking about. I'm sure you could care less weather my dad goes berserk and kills me for yet again stealing his pills. Tomorrow I get Methadone from a different friend. If he starts to get sick, I'll put 5mgs in his soda. Hold him over.

I'm making the drive down to Chicago again sometime after the 1st when I get my SSI. I won't be able to spend a huge amount, because I only have like 300 dollars to last me a month.

Gleds, about the guns in America. Its absurd. The only reason you can have a hand gun is for protection. eg: if someone breaks into your house you can shoot that person for trespassing. You have to get a special perment to get a concealed hand gun, and its rather hard to get. There are still considered for self protection, eg: a gun in your purse or glove compartment is in case you get mugged, or car jacked. America is split in half on the gun issues. It is in our constitution the right to bear arms. The right wingers don't want to loose that right. I imagine they are afraid of getting their hunting rifles, and shotguns taken away. I did once have a boyfriend who used a hand gun to shoot a deer. Willy was his name. He was my high school sweetheart. I was 15 and he was 20 when we started dating. I look back and think gross, he was child molesting. I felt so bad for that deer. He collected hand guns, not for protection, but for fun. He never planed on using it. Except when I broke up with him, he put one of the guns to his head. Its gang members, and serial killers that really show the cause to eliminate the right to bear arms from our constitution. Getting a gun is easy here, its the perments to carry them with you at all times that's hard to get. A lot of people get put in jail for carrying hand guns on their person without a perment.

2011-04-28T14:47:00.001-05:00

"King's Crossing"

The king's crossing was the main attraction

Dominoes falling in a chain reaction

A scraping subject ruled by fear

Told me whiskey works better than beer

The judge is on vinyl, decisions are final

And nobody gets a reprieve

And every wave is tidal - if you hang around

You're going to get wet

I can't prepare for death any more than I already have

All you can do now is watch the shells

The game looks easy, that's why it sells

Frustrated fireworks inside your head

Are going to stand and deliver talk instead

The method acting that pays my bills

Keeps a fat man feeding in Beverly Hills

I got a heavy metal mouth that hurls obscenity

And I get my check from the trash treasury

Because I took my own insides out

It don't matter 'cos I have no sex life

And all I want to do now is inject my ex-wife

I've seen the movie and I know what happens

It's Christmas time, and the needles on the tree

A skinny Santa is bringing something to me

His voice is overwhelming, but his speech is slurred

And I only understand every other word

Open your parachute and grab your gun

Falling down like an omen, a setting sun

Read the part and return at five

It's a hell of a role if you can keep it alive

But I don't care if I fuck up

I'm going on a date with a rich white lady

Ain't life great?

Give me one good reason not to do it

(Because I love you)

So do it

This is the place where time reverses

Dead men talk to all the pretty nurses

Instruments shine on a silver tray

Don't let me get carried away

Don't let me get carried away

Don't let me be carried away

This is such a beautiful song. I wish I could have seen Elliott live. I'm very depressed.

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What shall I do? I'm fucking strung out and don't want to be.

2011-04-28T10:51:00.000-05:00

Its official my dad is going to go sick. I'm in big trouble. I'm terrified, and want to kill myself, but I want to stay alive to see the release of my book. It was suppose to come out in May, but its been pushed back to September because it needed so much editing, and I made some many changes. Plus I want to see if I make any money off the book. I doubt I will, but the book is a reason to stay alive. My dad will be in Arizona when May's supply of pills come in. I'm going to fed ex them straight to my dad, that way I won't be able to use them. I'll go back on Methadone or Suboxone.

I have an appointment with my shrink today, and I don't know if I should tell him about my relapse. He might take away my sleepers, and my clonazepam, along with the Speed. I am going to ask for a reference to a doctor who does prescribe Suboxone. God, I wish my Dr. didn't loose his licence to prescribe narcotics.

Right now I still think I'm in control of my addiction, but fuck, now that I've taken all my dad's pills I know I'm out of control. I have two really bad problems. First I'm an addict, second I'm bi polar. If I do kill myself before the book comes out I want to do so on Heroin, and sleepers, and Clonazepam, and Xanax. Non of those pills cause nausea, so I won't vomit it all up before it kills me. Heroin does make you nauseous sometimes, but since its been injected your not throwing up the actual Heroin. I don't get nauseous from Heroin, so I won't have a problem. Watch me chicken out. Although if my dad is really disappointed in me, and screams and yells, and disowns me I'll definitely be on my edge. I hate myself so much for stealing his pills. I feel like the scum of the earth.

Danny, I would write more about sex, but I'm not having any so you'll have to wait and see if I decide to off myself, and if I don't I will try and get some cock. Then write about and post it for all to read. I will write more jail posts. Although jail was very boring, but there is a lot that goes on day to day that was abnormal. Like this old bitch that was in the Metal health unit with me and she was disgusting. She farted, didn't wear underwear or a bra, so you could spell her sticking pussy. She wouldn't even take a whores bath. Then her tits sagged down to her waist. Watching her eat made me sick to my stomach. Then there was the lady who was mentally retarded, who had put her kids in a dresser and set it on fire. She took a shit in the shower, and the guards tried to make me clean it up. I was like hell no, that's your job. The guards tried to tell me that I would get points as a good inmate. I asked would it get me out faster, they said nope. So I said fuck off and die asshole, you clean up that shit and blood. She was also on her period. That's another little taste of what I faced while in jail. BTW, all three of the retards kids died, but she was found not fit to stand trial, so she was waiting to be sent to the State Mental Institution.

Here on TV its all about the Royal Wedding. Just get that damn wedding over with, and why do us American's care. Its a different country. I'd much rather be English than American, so I shouldn't throw stones in a glass house. I'm mostly Irish, but no English blood that I know of. I haven't done my genealogical charting, but from what I've been told, I'm mostly Irish on both sides. I do like Irish accents. Its English, but you still can't understand them. I need a bloody fag. So I'm going to end this post.

Another jail post

2011-04-27T20:45:00.000-05:00

More jail stuff. I want to make it clear, I was only in county jail, not prison. I did my 77 days in county jail.

In jail people segregate themselves by race. Whites with whites, blacks with blacks, Mexicans with Mexicans. Yet I was in the mental health part of jail, so I made friends with add different races. I made good friends with a Latino girl named Anneta. She was in the same pod/cell block as me for 10 days. Both of us didn't like cards, and at the time were to sick, and scared to watch TV, read, do anything but talk to each other. Then she got moved to Gen Pop, and I was alone again. Then there was this white lady who was very suicidal, she drank the cleaning products they brought in for us to clean with, and tried to slice her wrists with a pen. From drinking the cleaning products she just had a horrible stomach ache. With pen all she did was scratch herself.

In Wisconsin, they don't allow any opiates in jail. Only if your in the hospital, and even then they are very hard to get the doctor to prescibe you to it. Even if your on Methadone. No tapper, just cold turkey. One person I was in jail with died from a seizure coming off Methadone and Xanax. At that time the state government reviewed their policy on not weening people off of at least Benzos. There was never any changes made, exception one jail, in Appleton WI. There they give you your Methadone.

In jail there were no drugs to find. Sure people cheeked their drugs, but they were mostly phsycotropic drugs. I didn't want any of that, I was getting Clonazepam, because I have a good doctor, who insisted I needed my Clonazepam in jail. I was also getting my bi polar meds.

I only had one fight in jail, and mind you I'm not an aggressive person, until I'm pushed to a point. This black girl was always on the phone, and I called my parents every day at four pm. This girl wouldn't let me use the phone two days in a row to call home. Finally I confronted her, she got into my face talking Ebonics, and I just lost it. I took her by the hair, and slammed her face into the ground three times. I hit her over the head with the phone until the phone broke. Which sucked, because I just wanted to call home. The guards came in, and all the other girls in the pod vouched that it was the black girls doing, and I was just defending myself. She got put in segregation.

IN jail it smells like body odor, smelly pussy, dirty hair, and shit. God forbid one of us got our period, and we only had these really thin pads to use, which got blood all over the place. Which reminds me I should get another HIV test. Its been about that amount of time when the virus would show up in my bloodstream .

If there is anything else you'd like to know just ask. I'll post about it. This one is for Gledwood.

Oh yes, I want comments again. Even the haters. I miss the attention. I'd rather be hated for what I am, than loved for what I am not.

Horriable teaser

2011-04-27T11:43:00.000-05:00

Well, today I had to take some of my dad's pain pills. I hate doing this, and am terrified he will find out. I know he's going to find out, but I just dread that day. It will be next week Monday or Tuesday when he refills his pill box.

I woke up not being able to sit still. My legs were jerking uncontrollably, my heart rate was high, I couldn't focus on anything. So I made the bold move to steal the pills. Now I'm so much calmer, not depressed, not happy, just even. Just another mundane day here in Wisconsin. Nothing good is on the TV. So I figured I'd blog. Let you people who read this be bored by my pointless post.

I'll talk about my time in jail. I've been in jail five times, only two of those for more than a day. My first time in jail for 13 days, I was not allowed my medications, because at the time I didn't have a shrink. Plus I was withdrawing from Methadone 140mgs. I would have these intense dreams about using. I would wake up in the middle of the night not knowing that I had actually fallen asleep, thinking I just used, and would have to look at my arm to see no new pin pricks. From being in withdrawal, and being bi polar, I aimed to attempt suicide in jail. I didn't have anything sharp, but a pencil, so I was going to stab myself with the pencil in my jugular. I ended up thinking if I told the guards I was going crazy I would get into the Mental hospital(much better than jail). Well it didn't work that way. I told the guard I was thinking of suicide but I didn't really want to do it and hurt my parents. So suddenly two guards came into my cell and took me out. They told me I had two choices, either go into solitary confinement naked for three days, or be put in four point restraints. Since I was sick, and I didn't want a cell mate I chose the three days. I did my three days...and you can read the rest in my book I Hate Myself and Want to Die, coming out in September, by Trafford Publishing house.

During my 77 days in jail, I was given Bi Polar medication, along with anxiety medication. This is because first I had a shrink, and second it was a jail in a different county. The jail I was in for 13 days was in Green Bay, the jail I was in for 77 days was in Oshkosh. Oshkosh was a much better jail. It still sucked, but at the end of that 77 days I was free and clear. No probation, no worries about the law, plus I was going to start getting SSI. I won't say I wasn't depressed, as I cried like a baby, I was again withdrawing from 140mgs of Methadone. I was sick for about the first month, then it got better. While in jail I was so afraid that one of my parents was going to die, and I wouldn't be let out to go to their funeral. For those of you have ever been in jail, you know how people write on the walls I love so and so. Usually a boyfriends name, well I wrote I love mom and dad everywhere.

I was kept in Pod A, which was the mental health pod. Pods are cell blocks. I moved cells four times. For one day I was accidentally moved into gen pop, but was taken out before the days end. The nurse noticed the mistake. I didn't eat for 16 days, they put me on a liquid diet, and gave me soda. So I wouldn't die. They even threatened me with solitary for attempting suicide by starvation. I told the nurse I just couldn't eat because I was withdrawing from Methadone, and I was depressed. Which was the truth. I wanted to see the light at the end of being in jail. I ended up getting a kidney stone. Which is the worse pain in the fucking world, and they didn't bring me to the hospital until after I passed the stone. The pain killer I got was Tylenol. I was writhing in pain. The whole experience sucked. I didn't learn anything except how to be a better criminal. I think like a criminal now. What can I steal? How can I get away with this? Shit like that.

I got out two weeks before Xmas, and it was the best Xmas present I ever gotten.

How do explain something no one can understand without going through it.

2011-04-26T17:07:00.000-05:00

Okay, I'm going to explain the ins and outs of my bi polar mania. As per Gledwood request.

Before I started Bi Polar medications, I would get these really grandiose feelings. I was the best at whatever I was doing, I could do no wrong. Nothing in my life could go wrong. I would talk, talk, talk. Those of you use Heroin, you know that feeling when your high, not super high, just feeling great, and you want to talk, about anything? That's how I talked. I wouldn't sleep for days straight. The longest time I've ever gone without sleep is 5 full days. I was put in a mental hospital during this mania. The main reason I was put in the hospital, is because I was seeing a bear with no eyes, and he was following me. He stood on two feet, it was more a man in a bears costume with no eyes. I became very paranoid and accused my parents of wanting to kill me because I was so much better than them. I had an overly high self esteem. This happened when I was on drugs, Dilauded, and it still didn't even me out. It felt more like I was on Crystal Meth. Oh god, and sex, I wanted sex so badly. I HAD so much sex.

There is a lot of contradictions in how I felt and acted. Doctors thought I was on Crystal Meth, but I was on Dilauded. Even in the hospital during a forced sobriety, I should have gone through withdrawals, but I never felt a thing. I was just happy. Happy even though I was in a locked mental ward. Still I couldn't shake the paranoia, and that damn man in a bears costume with no eyes was after me.

I was bull rushed by an all male staff one night after getting violent with a nurse because she was forcing me take medication that wasn't Dilauded. I got a shot in the ass of Haldol, and Advant, and put in a padded room for 8 hours. In this room I talked to myself for hours on end, laughing at how hysterical I was. Finally the Haldol, and Advant did its job and I finally slept.

God this is hard to explain. I've never really had to put into words how I feel when I'm manic.

Before medication my moods swung wildly. From month to month, I was up and down. Getting hospitalized for both mania, and depression. They would prescribe me meds but I wouldn't take them so I could get happy again. I used to tell my mom I just want to get happy again. Those of you who have taken a first hit of Crystal Meth sort of know what a mania is like. Sorta! You feel like you can do anything, and be anyone, go anywhere, be anything. I would repeat myself over and over. Think the same thought over and over. Then suddenly have a million thoughts crash into one, and all those pieces of thoughts were thought over and over again. I don't think you can understand how that feels unless you've experienced it. I'm always very productive during a mania, I clean, read, write, take care of all affairs needed to be tended to.

Now that I'm on medication, my moods don't swing as often. Probably ever two months really bad swings. Normally I'm just depressed. No matter what anti depressant they put me on.

This is really hard for me to write. It makes me sick to my stomach. I just want to be happy again.
Just to be clear I didn't and don't always see an eyeless bear. That was a one time mania. Although I always have feelings of paranoia when I'm manic. I believe that everyone is talking about me, and why wouldn't they, I am after all God's gift, or so I felt.

Bye, Bye, Black bird.

2011-04-26T09:48:00.001-05:00

Well I'm out of H, and my friend hasn't come through with a little Methadone to hold me over. So I took some speed this morning to make me feel like living. It gives me the shakes, and I can't sleep. Well I wouldn't be able to sleep anyway. I do have sleepers, and Valium. I should just lock myself in my room with my sleepers and Valium and sweat it out. Come out seven days later, an extra few day more than I need just to make sure.

Has anyone ever seen the movie Candy? If your a junkie I suggest you watch this movie. It really describes the ride H takes you on. Trainspotting is one of my all time favorite movies. That's where I got the idea to lock myself in a room and detox. Although I'm not completely strung out. Its more a mental thing right now. Aside from a runny nose, watery eyes, and a sick stomach, along with yawning all the time. I can cum really easy also. Just the slightest touch and I'm screaming OH GOD, OH GOD! Soon, if I don't get any H, or methadone, or Oxycodone aka Percocets, my sexual appiete will come on strong. I could call Jess, and get some that way, but I'm not ready for that just yet. Jesus, if its not drugs, it sex with me. I swear to you, I must have borderline personality disorder. I take risks just to feel alive. Like going down to a gang ridden area of Chicago with a Purto Rican who I can barely communicate with and go into a drug dealers house, who has never met me and make him weigh the Heroin in front of me.

My mood is up and down all at one time. From second to second, minute to minute my mood changes. This I assume is due to the little withdrawals I'm going through. I could take some of my dad's Oxycodone, but I've taken so many he's already going to go sick this month. I have a secret about that, that I can't share on Internet due to family members reading. I'll leave this secret in a blogs comments that I always comment on. Its a stupid secret, but I'm terrified my dad will notice so I had to do something. Those of who don't know if its pins, needles, and grins, or Hashish dreams and nightmares, or Gledwood. I love all these blogs, but I'm particularly fascinated with one of them.

I just got news, that I won't be able to get Methadone until Saturday. So three days of detox. That should get rid of the small withdrawals I'm going through, but the cravings will still be there. On May 7 or the 10 I'm going to go back to the Methadone clinic. Stay on a low dose. Yet, I don't want to be on Methadone, because I'm loosing all this weight, and going back on Methadone will make me sedentary, and bring back my appiete. Do I wait until I'm down to my normal One hundred and forty pounds, and then go back and maintain that weight, or do I go on Methadone and fight really hard to loose weight. That damn Methadone makes me crave sweets something fierce. That's all I eat when I'm on it. I haven't eaten in two days using H. I'm suppose to go out to lunch with my dad at Red Lobster for his fifty fourth birthday. I don't know if I'll be able to eat. I might just get shrimp scampi, and eat as much as possible. God, I'm so not hungry, food just disgusts me.

I know its not healthy to starve, because then when you eat again your body will take those calories and store them right away as fat because your body thinks it will starve again.

So that's all there is to it. My life. Day to day. My thoughts, ideas, fears, desires, and flaws.

Pull the trigger

2011-04-25T12:11:00.001-05:00

I said in my last post that I would post two short poems. These are my poems from my adult life, not my teenage angst days. I'm not sure where my parents stored those poems. I would have to rifle through a lot of stuff to find them, so your left to read my shit. I mean they are truly shitty poems. Pure rubbish.

Opiate Cat Tails(has nothing to do with opiates)

Little monsters in the details
looking in the mirror I see no reflections
I lost my words, they have no inflection.

Meaningless love fights for death
A loveless dove takes its first breath
My favorite whore is dead
My favorite whore always in my head.
If you go I will surely die
If you stay I will surely lie
Lay dead in my bed.

Take the knife kill your wife
The man is a lady, the lady is a man
said the man to the lady.
A whores in my bed.

Sixteen Marigolds

16 magrigolds 12 of them are dead
I haven't the heart to look at them
My heart is a black bird flying away to sit on my perch and die

16 merigolds 12 are dead all those merigolds bloom in the frost
My tears freeze on my face in the cold
Thoughts wander off to the needle and I miss my works

16 Merigolds 12 are dead
I smoke my camel cigarettes without looking and my 12 dead merigolds
my poor dead merigolds.

I'm a half dead merigold 16 of me are alive 12 are dead
So there is some bad poetry for you to suck on. Only I know what they are truly about.

Aside from that, I woke up not sick, not sad, just normal. I could have gone without dope, but it was there waiting for me, calling me, and I fixed. I shouldn't use the word fix, because I wasn't fixing anything I was just getting myself closer to being fully strung out. My life is ruled by addiction, such a sad thought. My life is ruined by my addiction. Who knows what I'd have become had I taken the straight road. Lived in the straight world. I've lost 11 years to a needle.

When your not high you glorify that high in your mind, then you get high for the first time in a while, and it feels great, then you stay high, and you wonder why.

I guess I don't have anything good to say. I'm waiting on a friend to get me some Methadone to hold me over until I can afford to buy some more gear. Which will hopefully be a long time away. I wish that now, but when I'm out I'll be craving it, and calling around for it. Paying too high a price for it. Change that line of thought. I will not use anymore. Its a waste of time, money and a life. God grant me the serenity.

Go ahead leave your anon comments, you have a right to say what you think/feel.

2011-04-24T10:48:00.000-05:00

Today is Easter Sunday, and I woke up very depressed. I had tears in eyes for no reason at all. So I fixed up a small shot, and got ready for our family lunch. I think my depression is being caused by my use of Heroin. I had bad depression before I started using again.

About a month ago I was in a mild mania, and was able to start a new book chronicling my time with Jess. If you haven't read my blog before, Jess was a guy I was obsessed with for about five months. We dated for a short time, and I had told him I didn't want to be in a relationship when we first started having sex. When I said I was finally ready for a relationship he said he wanted to keep the things as they were. Just a sexual relationship. I was heart broken. The book is part non fiction and part fiction. I'm not creative enough to write about something I just made up completely from my imagination.

The book is part erotic fiction, with a story line. I can write about sex in detail and not feel embarrassed about it in the least bit. I wrote my second book, Teenage Angst about my time in Middle school and high school as an out cast, who couldn't stand being near people. How I used pain medication and extasy, and shrooms, etc to make myself like people a little. I still don't like many people. I prefer to be alone. Although it would be nice to have a male companion who understands the ins and outs of Bi Polar, and addiction.

Now that I'm thinning out I've been getting a lot more male attention. When I was in Arizona I was asked out by a taxi driver, the same one who hooked me up with the Heroin. I was whistled at a number of times while walking from doctors office to doctors office while doctor shopping for Dilauded. I'm not going to lie it feels good to know men find me attractive once again. I'm still forty pounds away from my average weight of one hundred and forty pounds. If I keep on using, I will probably get down to 120lbs. Which at that weight I look like skin and bones. I truely look like death warmed over. Black circles around my eyes, not to mention the black eyeliner that I wear. Pale skin, tattered clothes with cigarette burns in everything I own. Never a smile on my face unless I feel that rush when I mainline. Then I feel better any other time I've known in life. Including orgasms.

I've enabled anon commenter's again. I feel people who read this blog have the right to express their feelings, and opinions. No matter how rude, cruel, or nice. I'm sure I'm going to get comments about how I'll never be attractive, and no matter how much weight I loose men will never want to be with me because I'm such a fucking loser. I get a lot of mean comments. It was just that one where the anon said I think that I'm like Kurt Cobain, or Elliott Smith, and that I was fat, ugly, and stupid. I just couldn't believe that someone would think that I have the audacity to think I have any talent at all. If I wanted to be compared to someone I would rather it be Anne Sexton, or Sylvia Plath. I do write poetry, but I burn most of it because its so bad. My parents have kept about five notebooks full of my poetry from my teenage years, mainly because I was published in a local Magazine. In my adult years writing poetry has been mostly about opiates, at least in some way. After Pete and I broke up(Pete my boyfriend for five years back when I was addicted badly and broke up with me after stealing 1,000 dollars from him) I wrote some romantic/love lorn poems. In a way my poems are still love lorn, but geared towards my love of opiates.

I will post a few poems in my next post just to show you how I haven't the talent Anne Sexton or Sylvia Plath had. I relate a lot to Anne Sexton. I just read a book called Heroin and Genius, and it talked about all the talented people who were brought down by drugs, drink, suicide. Rimbaud was my favorite story, he was such an interesting man. I wish I had half his guts. I relate to Rimbaud because he burned his poems also. Some of them. No I'm not saying I have any talent at all. I just relate in very distant way.

Oh God, am I going to get shit for this post. I know non of you want to read poetry, so I'll make it two short poems. I assure you they are atrocious.

disabled anon comments

2011-04-23T11:26:00.002-05:00

Okay, I'm going to try to explain this as best as I can. First and foremost I'm not lying on my blog, I'm lying to my family. Which makes it hard to be forthcoming. I tell my family that reads my blog that I'm lying. The comment about my track being googled was what I used as a cover when my aunt called me immediately after seeing this photo. Although she did see my blanky and blanket in the background. Which was hard to explain away.
My dad will probably notice that I'm stealing his pills when he refills them on Monday or Tuesday. Which will be a sort of relief. Then I can go back to the Methadone clinic, and get on a low dose of Methadone and keep using on the side. Methadone doesn't keep the depression away, so when I need to I would use the H to keep from feeling like killing myself.

I used my jugular because I was in a hurry and couldn't find a vein. I wanted to mainline and didn't want to skin pop. So I went to where I know I could get a flash, and the blood come into the syringe. I don't normally do this. Only when in a hurry. My mom was in the next room.

I swear on my sister Angie's grave that I'm not lying.

So yesterday I went to Chicago with the middle man, and we went to the north side, I ended up getting a good deal, I got a gram for 100 dollars. Normally here in GB its 130 to one hundred and forty. Green Bay is dry except for what the middle man who supplies most of GB has, and what I have. The H was strong, and I only need 0.2g to get high. I mean wasted. Nodding and everything. I did this after my dad went to sleep so I was up until around...well right now. I just did a really small shot, less than 0.1g just to keep me in a good mood, and try to explain to everyone why things aren't adding up. My dad has already left for the bar to drink himself into a good mood, or for all I know to see his mistress.

This blog is a struggle for me to keep up, and keep my family in the dark. Would you rather me lie to you or my family? I would rather lie to my family to keep from hurting them. BTW, my arm isn't that fat, it just an extreme close up. I went to weight watchers today and I lost ten pounds, so I'm down to 180lbs. Having a bit of habit keeps me from eating so I'm loosing weight like you wouldn't believe.

I may even delete this blog and go over to Wordpress and start a new blog so I can be honest and not have to lie to my family . This way they won't find my new blog, because I won't advertise it on facebook, and Twitter. I would loose a lot of readers, but at least I wouldn't be bombarded with cruel insults on my comments.

I set my settings to not allow anonymous commenter's. The one I got last night when I was just about to fix, it said something about me not being a female Kurt Cobain, and that I was a lame fat junkie. It saddened me to think that people think that I'm trying to be like Kurt Cobain. That man had talent I will never have. I don't even have a little talent in my pinkie finger. This I know about myself. There is no need for people to remind me that I'm a useless fat junkie. Thank God I had dope to fix up with as soon as I read that comment, because it almost sent me over the edge. I just felt like killing myself knowing, and having other people tell me how I have no talent. Just thinking about that comment makes me cry.

I know I lied once about using, and I'll always have non believers. Short of having someone come over and see me or skype my using, there will be non believers. I would like to see one of you try to be honest about using on your blog where family members read it, and keeping them from believing it. Its a tedious balance.

Even Gledwood questions my use. He's my closest friend on here. Gledwood if you have skype I'm willing to show you the bags of H I got, and show me fixing. I'll do enough to nod out, and you'll see that I'm using again. The Heroin I got was China White, and it doesn't even have to be cooked up you just have to put water in it, and stir it with the tip of the plunger, and put a cotton ball in and suck up the H. Its not clumply, its pure powder. The dealer was a black man, I don't know if he had any gang affiliation.

Gledwood, you do realize your not in my positon, I have to go to the North Side of Chey town aka the windy city, because that's where my middle man goes. I did set up a contact with him, and have his number so when I want I can come down by myself to pick up. Only when I'm picking up a sizable amount though. The thing is I don't feel safe unless I have a man come with me. Back before the Methadone I would go down there by myself, because my dealer would meet me just outside of Chicago at a gas station. So I didn't have to go into the inner city.

So now when my aunt reads this I'm sure I'm going to get a phone call or email asking me whats going on. Who are you lying to, me or the readers. The only thing I can do is start a new blog somewhere else. Hopefully my followers will still come read. Those of you who don't believe just don't read it.
The mass of my comments are rude, and cruel. I don't see anybody else's blog where the readers are so cruel. I know you want the satisfaction of knowing you hurt me. Here you have it. You've hurt me.

I'm getting so frustrated it sounds like I'm advocating using opiates, but in reality I would never advocate the use of Heroin or Opiate pills. All it does is cause pain. Not just the addiction, which kills you inside and out, but writing about it and having people call you fat, useless, junky. I have low self esteem. I don't deserve anything, and I'm not asking for anything. You don't have to believe me. I know I'll still get cruel comments because I admitted that they hurt me.

Well, I have my medicine now, and those who want to hurt me with their words you'll have to show your name. With my medication those words don't hurt any more than sticks and stones. When I'm high sticks and stones don't hurt as much. Still I remember every word.

As far as my veins go. I have tiny veins. I don't have those arms where you just stretch out your arm and clench your fist and tons of veins show up. Mine are hidden, and I have to take a lot of time feeling them out, and poking around to find one. I never even knew I had any good veins on my right arm, until a nurse took blood from that arm. After that I marked it with a indelible marker for when I needed it. Turns out its a very good vein, except after I miss a little, then the blood won't blossom in again for another day. My wrists are all scared from a suicide attempt, along with the forearm. As I sliced my arms four times up and down. Although every now and again I can get into my wrist. My hands have long dried up. That's where I first started banging. I had many different veins on my hands. My legs are too fat to find a vein in. Hopefully while on weight watchers I'll get down to 120lbs again, and will be able to find a vein in my thigh. "Goal set".

That's all I've got. If things don't add up I can't explain anymore than I already have. Your just not going to believe me. So just stop reading. I may enable anon commenters again, but right now I'm not ready to read your straight up mean and hurtfull comments.

Anon nay sayers this is what I say.

2011-04-22T09:04:00.000-05:00

Wow, what a bunch of anon's questioning my usage of Heroin. When I get my ten bags today I will take a photo and put them up on my blog for the day. I took a photo of one track mark because its the vein I use most, I go into my wrist a lot, but why put up four photos of all my tracks? I thought one would do it, but obviously not.

I don't know why it makes me angry that no-one believes me. I shouldn't care. Its just a diary after all. As far as suicide who knows I may live out a long loner life. I have made several attempts on my life, and have had to be resuscitated after a dose of 500, 350mg aspirin along with a bottle of wine. I've slit my wrists, which makes it hard to find a vein on my wrist, and up my forearm.

I guess its up to you. Believe or don't. It is after all happening to me, and not you.

Gledwood, to shoot up in the jugular you have to make sure the needle is pointing down, and squeeze you neck so you can see the jugular, then you stick the needle in pull the plunger back and when the blood comes rushing in you push the heroin home into the jugular. Its easier if you have someone to do it for you, while you lay down and your head is upside down hanging off the bed, and then they go in and do it for you. Which I did when I was shooting coke on that binge in my book.

As for the book that I sent you, is the first draft, its been edited and things changed to make descriptions better. Along with the dialogue.

It came through

2011-04-21T20:42:00.000-05:00

OH my God, I praise you lord. I shall acknowledge passover. My connection came through, and I'll be getting my gear tomorrow. I put up a shit fit, and said I don't want my money back, and that I'm going down to Chicago with this guy, and I'm making sure he's not ripping me off. eg: giving me five bags instead of ten because now suddenly the bags are twenty dollars.

I'm not in that bad of way right now, my dad went to the bar, and I took ten of his Percocets. That's fifty mgs of Oxycodone. Just please dear God please don't let my dad notice the missing pills. He would have a shit fit, and more importantly he would be disappointed in me.

I'm not desperately sad right now, but I did just take three ten mgs of Ambien so I could fall asleep and get to tomorrow faster.

That photo of my track mark has to come down soon, my family will see it and want to look at my arms and realize why I wear long sleeve shirts and sweat jackets all the time. I just put it up there to prove to the nay sayers that I am truly using again.

How many times do I have tell anon commenter's, whatever you say I already think of myself. Your words can't hurt me as much as my thinking hurts me. So have at me.

The commenter who introduced me to the song Legalize Heroin thank you. I love it. I love Iron and Wine too. Bright eyes, and Elliott Smith, and all those singer songwriter's music.

I don't know the exact time its coming in tomorrow so I'm going to be in tizzy all day. Lord all mighty please let it be early. Now I should let those Ambien kick in and sleep this day away.

Do you want your money back. Fuck no.

2011-04-21T10:51:00.000-05:00

I'm home in Wisconsin, and guess what? No dope, the person sold it on me and is giving me my money back. He's out of gear and has to drive down to Chicago to get more. I tried to explain that I wanted him to take my money and buy more gear while down there, but he's Purto Rican and we can't communicate very well. I'm crying my eyes out. I have works and no gear. There is nothing anybody can do for me.

Oh well its probably a good thing. Forced sobriety. I might go out and get drunk, buy some alcohol get jiggy wit it. LOL! That's so not me. Aside form the getting drunk to forget part.

The flight home was misery, I had four layovers, and gates far apart. Walking thru those airports I definitely went down in weight. Yay me. Fuck me. I'd rather be fat and high , not sad and skinny. The thing is when I get strung out I get really skinny. Down to 120 lbs last time I got strung out. That really doesn't matter if I get skinny, or if I get high, if this sadness gets any worse I'm going to hang myself. My dad leaves back for Arizona May 6th, and I'll finally get it over with sooner rather than later.

This bipolar isn't working out too good in my favor, too many lows as compared to highs. I took some speed today just to get something into my receptors to make me feel at least like moving. IF it weren't for the speed non of you would be able to read this new post. I need me a cigarette and a shower. So I'm leaving with this. I hate my face, I hate this place, and I'm not strung out again.

Wait a minute. I want to clarify something, I don't want to be strung out, I just want to use every few days when I'm sad, just to make the sadness dull or go away. Although if I have a lot of dope around I can't contain myself and I use it all right away. No will power.

Who isn't?

2011-04-19T17:39:00.000-05:00

The day is going along. The sky is big and blue, the sun bright and overhead. The temperature is in the mid 80's, not a hint of humidity is in the air. I'm in a foul mood. I even took 10mg of Dilauded, and didn't feel a thing aside from no more runny nose, and I stopped yawning every few seconds. A small habit I acquired here in Yuma.

Out by the pool are two very pretty girls, and two little baby girls. One of the girls is the mother of both babies. They have awesome tattoos and I want a tattoo on my shoulder down to where a short sleeve shirt would stop. I would have an underwater picture with a mermaid, and fish, and flowers. I'm almost thirty, I can do what I want to my body. Still I would disappoint my dad if I got a big tattoo. I have two tattoos now. One on my foot of a four leaf clover with my sister Angie's name in it, and a tattoo on my ass of my ex boyfriend Pete's lips. Both are small tattoos. I got the one on my ass done while I was high and drunk, and everyone said I would regret it, but I don't at all.

Tomorrow morning I leave for the airport at 5am. In Wisconsin I have 8 inches of snow to look forward to. I'm used to 80's and 90's, and I'll be going back to 20 degree weather. Poor Eleanor is going to be shocked. I'm suppose to have ten bags of H waiting for me, but the chances that its still there are 50/50. So really I have nothing to look forward to at home. Bad weather, bad, overpriced, dope cut to shit. Hip hip hooray. Plus I have a long flight with three layovers. All with a huge purse, and carring my dog in her bag. I think I'm going to pretend I can't walk and get into a wheel chair, so one of those trolleys comes along they can pick me up and bring me to my gate. Fuck it I can walk. Weight watchers says...walk, walk, walk.

Last night I didn't sleep a wink. I shot up around midnight, and I nodded out, but never really slept. I'll probably sleep good tonight, but I have to get up early, and we have no alarm clock. Well my mom has one on her phone, but what if we don't hear it? Why did I pick a flight that leaves so early. I should have asked my parents to up me to first class. Like that will happen. My parents don't even fly first class. It would be nice on the long flight from San Diego to Minnesota. The rest of my flights are at most a hour.

I don't think anything could pick up my mood right now, aside from a big shot of Heroin. That Mexican tar I got was more potent than the Dilauded I have. Great now I have a tolerance, making the H I "might" have at home even more shitty.

Who doesn't think of themselves as the black sheep of the family? Just wondering. If you do or don't feel like a black sheep tell me why. Leave a comment or if you don't want people to see email me. You can also get my blog emailed to you. Right underneath my picture is a white box and at the right end it says submit, well just put in your email address and click submit. Boom, every time I blog your alerted by email. I like it, I follow a number of blogs this way. BTW Gledwood you should get this fancy button. Many of us would like to know immediately after you blog. Those of us with smart phones, our emails ring on our phones, have it best. When your board you always have a new blog to read. Oh yeah, my email is younganna@ymail.com or younganna1983@gmail.com

Nobody commented under my last post. I guess I just reiterated what everyone thinks, or what most people who read my blog think.

The DEA is killing people. Aren't they suppose to save people?

2011-04-18T17:53:00.001-05:00

Its not my last day in Yuma Arizona. I'm here until Wednesday. I'm not going to have enough drugs to get me home. FUCK! I've used up all the H, and some of the Dilauded. When I wake up in the morning I'm so depressed and anxious that I feel the only solution is to either shoot up, or kill myself. I choose to shoot up. Right away I feel better.

If only shrinks would prescribe diamorphine as an antidepressants. It may not work on everyone, but people with sever mental illness like bi polar should be allotted diamorphine for the depression. Not so much to get you loaded, just enough to take the edge off. To let you sleep an average amount of time, eat an average amount of food, keep your moods stable. Of course this is all a dream. Perhaps in Amsterdam they will allow this.

When someone is contemplating suicide and has made several real attempts on their own life leaving them with permeate damage to their health, and all other medications are not stopping the mood swings, and suicidal ideations then as a doctor with a dieing cancer patient would, prescribe morphine, dilauded, etc a shrink should be able to prescribe a patient dieing of bi polar, or any other mental health disorder where suicide is a high risk , and the patient is in real pain. Diamorphine, Morphine, Dilauded etc should be a way to treat such a patient. Why physical pain is teated with narcotics, but emotional pain is treated with drugs that even the doctors themselves don't know how they work, or even if they work. Most don't.

Fuck the DEA. Just legalize drugs, and save lives, millions of millions of lives. Not only from suicide, but from violence, gang wars, drug wars etc. This I will never see in my lifetime. People have had the idea that all drugs are killers and that alcohol is okay to use in moderation. Crack, and alcohol are the drugs that cause people to become violent. At least we're getting somewhere with pot.

I just wish that someone would acknowledge that emotional pain is as bad as physical pain, and in many cases causes physical pain. Yet the DEA, keeps doctors from prescribing narcotic medications as needed. Doctors are afraid to get their licence pulled. I have a good doctor and he got his licence to write narcotic prescriptions pulled, because he knew how to teat people with real emotional pain.

Oh me, oh my!

2011-04-16T16:15:00.000-05:00

Oh me, oh my, am I feeling better. I found a taxi cab driver who found me a heroin connection, and I got a doctor to write me out a script to Dilauded. I'm only using every other day, and as small amount as I can. I use just enough to take away the sadness. The H down here in Arizona is Mexican Black Tar, and its not cut to shit. It cost 90 USD for a gram. I almost shit my pants when I herd how cheap it was. Then I was sure it would be shit dope, but I used about .02 and it layed me on my ass. Right now I'm using up the H, because I'm leaving on Tuesday for Wisconsin, and I can't take the H with me. I can take the Dilauded with me, because its prescribed to me. I only got forty, four mg tablets of the Dilauded, but I also have ten .02 bags of shit H at home waiting for me...hopefully. I had my hook up hold it for me, and this person swears its still there and they didn't cut it and sell part of it. Which is what I would do if I didn't know the person so well. My connection knows me well, so hopefully this person won't screw me over.

I want to Thank Gledwood for making me laugh when I thought it was impossiable to even form a smile on my face. I want to thank Boomer too.

I am scared that when I get home and run out of dope, I'm going to be totally strung out again. The last thing I need. I can't go back to the Methadone clinic, my parents are so proud of me for being clean. Shit just thinking about this and writing it down make me need another fix, because it depresses me. I hate being honest with myself. If I do have a habbit when I get home, I'll just have to kick it. Kick it old school, cold turkey. I will probably tell my shrink so he can prescribe me clonidine to help with the withdrawls.

I got to go and take a shower.

Its a long lonely journy from death to birth

2011-04-14T12:22:00.000-05:00

A morning I'll never forget. I was in Michigan at my parents house with my boyfriend at the time Pete. We had driven up to Michigan a day early, we were suppose to go to Michigan the next day with my sister Angie. I was dope sick and had to go up to Michigan where my dad had Oxycontin. So we left a day ahead of my sister.

The night before Angie was suppose to come to Michigan, while Pete and I had already driven up there, Angie had a beer party at house. She had just broken up with her boyfriend of five years. She was in a depression from the breakup.

The morning of the day Angie was suppose to drive to Michigan, there was a knock at the door at four am. I was up still high and nodding out. I open the door, and its the police. They asked to speak to Dean Young my father. I wondered and worried what did my dad do to get the police to come to our house at such an early hour. I went up stairs and woke up my dad and told him the police were there asking for him. Pete and I stayed up stairs because I was worried it was about me stealing his Oxycontin. My mom had gone down with my dad. I was in the hallway listening, but I couldn't hear much.

Suddenly I herd my mom scream, NO, NO, my babys dead. I knew right then Angie had died. I slide down the wall in shock. I came down stairs and saw my mom lying on the floor crying and screaming. The police where still there, and kept asking do you need us to keep you from hurting yourself, or your family to my dad. My dad was in shock. He got to go on the phone and had me call family memmbers telling them Angie was dead. She had died in a drunk driving accident.

My aunt and Uncle had decided to come and pick up my parents because they were too distraught to drive. Pete and I had to drive my car, and my parents car back to Wisconsin. I listened to the band Morphine the whole way home. I had just introduced her to the band Morphine a few days earlier when I drove her to get a tune up on her car. She liked the last song on the album. I cried and cried. I needed more Oxycontin to numb myself. In my parents dispare they were taking the Oxycontin as much as I was and they were giving me a hand full.

My dad had wanted Angie's room cleaned out because he didn't want to come home and know she was dead and have to look at her room empty forever. So pete did as best he could, but my aunt stopped us knowing we would want to go through her room. By the time we had got home the entire family and friends were there waiting for us to show up. They all brought food, and sympathy. I was in such shock and so high I just wanted to be alone, away from everyone except Pete and my parents. The only people who knew the pain we were in.

When my parents showed up I went into my room alone and got so high I couldn't even walk. I made Pete leave me alone. I asked why her, not me I want to die. She wanted life. She was productive, and I was lazy and useless. I kept imaging what she went through. Did she know she was dieing and did it feel so good she just went away? Did she feel pain? Every horriable thought went through my brain. I couldn't numb this pain all the way with opiates. I needed some control so I sliced my leg and bandaged it up to feel the pain, or some of the pain Angie felt.

I miss my little sister so much and just want to join her where ever she is. Along with my Papa Donald who killed himself, and my grandma who died of cancer, but really they oded her on morphine so she wouldn't suffer any more. I don't want to suffer any more, I want to be oded on diamorphine to make this pain go away.

Angie died at 19 years old. I was 20 years old. The year was 2003.

This was the last song I shared with Angie.

Hate myself more than you, what should I do.

2011-04-13T21:05:00.000-05:00

I hate myself more than you hate me. They say people without jobs have lower self esteem. Well I do believe that to be true. Yet when I had a job, I would still go up and down in moods. I even attempted suicide while working. I started to mainline H when I had a job. Am I a statistic? Yes. When I say hate I mean HATE. I'm not even a good Heroin addict. I always loose connections. Unlike Gledwood who can keep a connection even after he quite using. I guess you just have to be in a big city. In Honolulu was the only place I had a regular connection. Other wise I doctor shopped.

The two things that I think about are killing myself, and using Heroin. Thinking about using makes me anxious, thinking of offing myself makes me feel peaceful. I did Gledwoods test on his blog and I scored a 51 severely depressed, and suicidal ideations. NO I'm not going to a doctor. All I want is a big shot of H, and a bottle of Ambien, and just fall asleep forever.

I have no friends. Aside from using friends, which we all know are not real friends. They are out to take your dope every chance they get. Some aren't above killing you for your money if you have alot, and they can get their hands on it after your dead. Thankfully my connections where not evil like that.

I think about my Hep C and I hope that it hurry up and kills me. Put me on diamorphine drip and kill me off that way. God, I would kiss that doctors feet if he hooked me up to diamorphine drip, and kept upping my dose until the inevitable happens.

I hate being sad, but when I'm in an even mood, I miss the comfort in being sad. Isn't that the most fucked up thing you've ever herd? When I'm in a manic mood, the world is at my feet. I love the manic episodes, but I'm more of depressive manic depressive.

If when I get home and make the decision to use those ten bags of H and use it to OD, I will post a goodbye post. With my luck I will again survive another attempt. I think of the people I hurt, and I had decided to do this even though my parents are alive and will be devastated. I'm selfish, self involved, vain, and not worth the air I breath.

Rape me

2011-04-12T20:37:00.000-05:00

Please someone email me or comment. I'm so board, and in desperate need of dope. I know non of you can help me out in that area, but I just want to hear from you. I want my blackberry to ding with a new email or comment. My email is younganna@ymail.com

I'm stuck in a small apartment with nothing to do but read and write. I'm too introspective to be alone. I smoke cigarette after cigarette. I journal about the most mundane things.

I'm watching the show Intervention, my drug porn. Why I do it when I don't have dope I don't know?

unwanted cleanliness

2011-04-12T12:10:00.000-05:00

I'm still in Yuma Arizona, and I can't find any gear. One would think a border city to Mexico would be full of gear. I can't stop thinking about that bliss gear brings. My eyes are vacant, my body is sluggish, I'm unhappy. Normally I can spot a junky a mile away, but here there are pot heads. Gear users are usually whites between 25 and 35. I know that there are Purto Rican's who have good dope, but since I don't know the city that well, I have no clue where to look.

Yesterday I asked a cabbie to help me find some gear, but he called me back and said he would call me back when he had a chance. He was really busy last night, so I never got a call back. I ended up taking Clonazapam, over the counter sleep meds, and Ambien. Still I woke up at 3:30am and couldn't fall back asleep so I took another Ambien. I ended up having horrible dreams.

Suicide has been plaguing my mind as of late. The only reason I don't do it, is because I have more books in me, and I want to write them and see them in print. The books are shit, but I have words I want to write down. Although I feel wasted, as if I can't bring myself to set a plot, and create characters. If I loose my will to write I will finally do what I've threatened a million, no a trillion times. Fuck it, I just want to sleep eternaly, or go to heaven, or be reborn, whatever happens when you die.

Anyone from Yuma reading this should email me and tell me where I can get gear. That's Heroin to you who aren't in the loop.

Sorry my spell check isn't working. That's all she had to say.

Thats some shitty dope you got there.

2011-04-10T18:36:00.000-05:00

I'm in San Diego California right now, we drove down from Yuma Arizona. What the fuck can I say? Its been a hell of a trip, and not in a good way. Its been cold, and rainy and in the fucking desert, come on.
One good thing did happen I got Dilauded off a doctor in the ER, but he only gave me 2mgs and only ten tablets. I ended up getting insulin syringes, which weren't long enough to slide into my scared veins. My fucking good veins are like leather to poke into.

I've been using Heroin on and off at home, but its shit heroin, cut like a whore who's john knifed her. It takes me at least for bags to get high, and those are .02 bags. They cost forty a piece. If I were to pick up a habit again I wouldn't be able to keep it up the shit around Green bay is so shitty. Sometimes its brown, sometimes its white.

I just want to get back to Green Bay where I have ten bags waiting for me...hopefully. I paid for the shit, it better be there. Unless when they went to Chicago it was 20 dollars a bag and then I only got five bags.

I'm stuck here until next Friday at least. With no dope. Its like hell on earth.

By the way I'm not lying this time to make my blog more interesting.