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 Content Rating Notice: XGC -- May Contain Extreme Graphic ContentOnly For: 18 and Older, Not Offended  |
| >> Book >> Drama >> ID #1019598 |   |
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 Can I do the things I wanna do That I don't do because of you? And I'll take a left and I'll second guess Into total mess And you're leaving me, yeah you're leaving me You're leaving me with a hated identity But I keep on a-coming here and standing in this state And I’m never really sure if you’ll take what I’m saying the right way But I'm not appalled or afraid; verbal pocket play Is as discreet as I can muster up to be Because the Cadillac that's sitting in the back It isn't me Oh, no, no, no it isn't me… I’m more at home in my Galaxy ~~Galaxy, Blind Melon ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** P.S. If you simply must blog, then you must read
And please visit http://fragileporcelainmice.com/ to pay homage to my good friends back in The Lou. |
| 165. Be back soon | ID #512081 |
| Posted: 5-31-2007 @ 1:20 pm EDT | |
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I'll be back as soon as I get my first paycheck...it will be next thursday...my upgrade has expired so til then I bid you a fond farewell... |
| 164. Fear, Finance & Fidelity | ID #511073 |
| Posted: 5-26-2007 @ 2:18 am EDT Edited: 5-26-2007 @ 2:22 am EDT | |
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I only see myself reflected in your eyes So all that I believe I am essentially are lies And everything I've hoped to be or ever thought I was Died with your belief in me so who the hell am I? When I was a dealer, Dave was so proud of me. He used words like “strong” and “tough” and “suga mamma” to describe me. I know that for the past few years, since I first started trying to get sober, he’s supported me, financially, emotionally and even at times physically. I owe his so much. He’s stood by my side though all that I’ve been through. But now, we’ve hit a major problem. Part of my new job means that I will have to speak publicly about being a drug addict. He’s worked hard to hide that from everybody down here, portraying me as a meek housewife that follows his lead. Sometimes that is true, but usually it isn’t. He does have a pretty important job as a member of the public works system and he even heads up the first team to respond in disasters. Anywhere else, that may be nothing, but here on the Gulf Coast, disasters are frequent. The members of his team are leaders in this community and he is their leader. He shoulders much responsibility in this respect. I stare in this mirror So tired of this life If only you would speak to me or care if I'm alive Once I swore I would die for you But I never meant it like this I never meant like this Not only do I now have a job that carries a huge responsibility with it, but I am tried of playing the meek little wife. There was a reason that I was the dealer and not him. I am a strong person! I always have been. What I am will always come though, no matter my profession. Whether dealer or healer, I will hold my head high and make no apologies! Fearing a loss of respect, Dave has turned his back on me, in every way that makes a marriage whole. He won’t speak to me, he won’t sleep with me…he won’t even eat at the same table as me. I almost can’t blame him… I once swore my allegiance to him, in front of God and everyone. And I meant it with all of my heart. But he is forcing me to choose… Am I a wife and mother? Or am I a recovering addict hoping to change the lives of other addicts??? It’s a critical choice…and it’s tearing me in two…I need him…right? I don't know if I'm real without you What is left of me without you? I don't know what’s real without you How can I exist without you? ~~Shame, Stabbing westward 48 days sober |
| 163. Confessions, Pt. II | ID #505533 |
| Posted: 5-1-2007 @ 11:47 pm EDT Edited: 5-1-2007 @ 11:51 pm EDT | |
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Now tickets to concerts and drinking at clubs, Sometimes for music that you haven't even heard of. And how much did you pay for your rock'n'roll t-shirt That proves you were there, That you heard of them first? Dave had a confession to make to me today. I was shocked. First, by the idea that he’s been holding back from me and, second, what the confession was. Turns out, he misses “the life” as much as I miss the drug… See, back in the day, we were something like local celebrities. We met famous people like Nelly, Papa Roach and, believe it or not, The Ramones!! (Minus Joey, of course.) Not to mention the other locals back in St. Louis, like Fragile Porcelain Mice, Sofachrome and The Urge. We were there so-called connection, and we got plenty in return for the sale to them and/or their band members. I could tell stories that you wouldn’t believe about folks that are now in such infamous publications like The Enquirer. Rubbing elbows and hob-knobbing with them made us feel important. We got to meet people that everybody wanted to meet and all of our friends envied us. If conversation at a party ever lagged we could always just say, “Have I ever told you about the time that I met the members of Breaking Benjamin backstage?” He always thought that we were backstage living the high life and sticking it to the man with people who had a wider audience than we did. Maybe we we’re, but that was then and this is now. He likes to say that it was a bonus to the job that we had, but I think we paid plenty… Aging black leather and hospital bills, Tattoo removal and dozens of pills. Your liver pays dearly now for youthful magic moments, But rock on completely with some brand new components. I don’t see it a “bonus,” I see it as a deficit. We could have bought all the bumper stickers and T-shirts and CD’s a lot cheaper than the co-pay for all the doctors’ visits and testing and hospital stays that my addictions has cost us. To him, we got all the celebrity and merchandise for free from all those musicians because they gave them to us for free. To me, we were being used. Does he really think that all those people even remember us? Yeah right, like they are sitting around saying things like, “Remember those dope dealers back in Missouri? They were cool!” Hell, no they aren’t! They have long since forgotten us and moved on to whoever the new dope dealer is back in The Lou. And every other city they tour, for that matter. Shit, they are all living in L.A. in huge mansions and eating caviar and drinking bottled water. Meanwhile, I am juggling the budget just to pay our rent and keep our water from getting shut off. Don’t you DARE tell me that we got anything from them!!! In the end, it all comes down to this; we are living right. That’s all we can do. We have no control over them, or anybody else for that matter. We barely have control over ourselves. I don’t care anymore about sticking it to the man cause I have to pay the man to keep my lights on… Now, we have the power to make a difference, I have the power to make a difference. Then, I was just another dealer to some rich folk. I know that I can tell all my addicted brothers and sisters and the world there is something better for them now…I never could when I was high… Excess ain't rebellion. You're drinking what they're selling. Your self-destruction doesn't hurt them. Your chaos won't convert them. They're so happy to rebuild it. You'll never really kill it. ~~ Rock N Roll Lifestyle, Cake 24 Days Sober |
| 162. Who's sober? | ID #505003 |
| Posted: 4-29-2007 @ 11:43 pm EDT Edited: 4-29-2007 @ 11:50 pm EDT | |
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Foot in mouth, and head up asshole. Whatcha talkin' 'bout? Difficult to dance 'round this one 'til you pull it out! So, I may not be such a great judge of character when I am sober… The lady that I “clicked” with after that NA meeting, L., and I have been talking on the phone for hours every day. I was damn near her disciple…until yesterday. See, she just dropped by while we were having a BBQ. Though my family really needs no reason to grill meat, we did have one. I was having one of those cravings…you know the ones for dope. So we got a mess o’ meat and a box o’ wine and before long all the neighbors were pitching in…some ribs here, a 12 pack there. It was so fantastic! It totally made the itchy arms that I get when I feel that need to jab a needle in them go away. L. pulls up to a block party going on. It was an awesome one really. Everybody that came knew what our “occasion” was and was more than willing to throw their support behind me. A few of them actually chased my dealer off when she saw the outdoor activity and headed over to my place. I was feeling totally loved and valued, if not a bit inebriated. But I didn’t feel like jabbing a needle in my arm anymore. Even after L. showed up, things went well. She had a nice bit of steak with all the sides. After dinner, we all went swimming and came back to my place to chill out as the sun settled in the distance. A few of the people decided to light a few joints they had with them. Now, I’ve never like smoking pot, but I had my wine so I didn’t say anything. But L. did. As she took a hit off of one of the joints that was being passed around, she said to me, “You know, you have to start your sobriety count all over again since you drank wine, right?” Steal, borrow, reefer, save your shady inference. King Guru done hung the juror with the innocent Now you're weeping shades of chosen indigo Got lemon juice up in your...EYE! Yeah, I took offense at her claiming that I was a bigger drug addict than she is while she was smoking pot. Maybe I even got a little rude. But I’ll be damned if somebody is going to call me black if they’re the damn pot! I have no problem with pot or the people that smoke it. I get nauseous when I smoke it so I don’t. It’s as simple as that for me. It’s real nice that she can recite the 12 steps and every single fucking bumper sticker that has been put out for those meetings, but if she’s smoking pot and telling me that I am not sober isn’t that just wrong? It’s wrong on so many levels that I can’t even count them! L. and I got into a huge argument about the whole “drug of choice” thing and it ended up with her leaving in a hurry. She called me today and I agreed to go have coffee with her so we could talk. After all, she is the first person in all my years of meetings that I have ever considered worthy of being my sponsor. The only thing she wanted to tell me about was how I was an alcoholic. Fuck it all. So she doesn’t like the taste of wine, so what? Perhaps it all that ganja that keeps her from sticking a straw up her nose. At least it is perfectly legal for me to sit in my home and get drunk. How dare she lecture me about using alcohol as a crutch? I am well aware of what I am doing here. I am (possibly) trading in a debilitating, crippling, illegal addiction in for a less destructive one but in the long run I will not be dying from dope. Who are you to wave your finger? So full of it. Eyeballs deep in muddy waters Fuckin' hypocrite! Liar, lawyer, mirror, show me. What's the difference? Kangaroo done hung the guilty with the innocent ~~The Pot, Tool 22 Days Sober |
| 161. So sad... | ID #501406 |
| Posted: 4-13-2007 @ 2:42 am EDT | |
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When I was young I knew everything She a punk who rarely ever took advice Now I'm guilt stricken, Sobbing with my head on the floor Stop a baby's breath and a shoe full of rice You should’ve seen us when we were kids. Really, we were all something else. Dave was as sharp as a tack and A. was the funniest guy I had ever known. Me, I ran around with my razor sharp wit cutting down everybody. Everybody, that is, except Dave and A. They were part of my team, but I was the head of it; I was always the smartest. We were so full of hope, so full of promise. Dave and A. were going to open an auto repair shop and I was going to own the bakery right next door. We planned to call it “Brake and Cake.” We had it all in order. I even went to college to get the accounting degree we would need so that we wouldn’t have to hire an accountant. It was going to be a family venture. That’s what we were, brothers and sister. Somehow, it all went awry. I can’t quite pinpoint it, but it wasn’t all just the dope. There was more to it. Like when A. got married and his wife just didn’t fit in or when I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder or when Dave got in trouble with the law. Exactly what it was, I can’t tell ya, but somewhere along the line we all lost a bit of ourselves… My best friend took a week's Vacation to forget her His girl took a week's worth of Valium and slept And now he's guilt stricken sobbing with his Head on the floor Thinks about her now and how he never really wept How are we supposed to act? Dave came home early today. He left yesterday right after the funeral and drove until he couldn’t stay up anymore. He was in Mississippi when he pulled over and got a room. He didn’t say it, but I could feel the tension in the air when he walked in the door. We embraced, a tight, gripping hug of fear, but neither of us cried. Too many times we’ve lost friends before. We’ve sat stoically though funeral after funeral and trial after trial (for those who have gone to prison for the rest of their life) and projected the very image of strength. Nothing has rattled us like this. He said it best when he gave me an ultimatum. “If you use again, even just one more time, I’m taking the kids and going to California.” He didn’t need to tell me. I’m scared, and I mean BIG time. I’ve been taking my meds like clockwork and not answering the door if it’s my dealer. And she has come looking for me…like the Grim Reaper… A. was one of us. We called ourselves The Untouchables because nothing ever happened to us, the three of us. We were invincible. Whatever it was, it always happened to a friend of ours. It never happened to one of us. Still, I have to wonder…why A.? Why not me or Dave??? We've tried to wash our hands of all this We never talk of our lacking relationships And how we're guilt stricken sobbing with our Heads on the floor We fell through the ice when we tried not to Slip, we'd say it… So Dave has the next three days to stay home with me. They call it bereavement leave. It’s supposed to be for grieving and while we both are, I doubt it looks like it to anybody else. We haven’t even said A.’s name out loud yet. I pray, pray so hard, that this is not the final straw that takes me down. I know that I tend to go back to dope under stress, good or bad. But I can’t even worry about that anymore; I gave that to God. For the first time since I don’t know when, I trust Him. Isn’t it when I am at my weakest that He will carry me? He will save me, if it is right that he do so. But Dave, the way he is taking this…I can’t quite put my finger on it, but it has something to do with the silence. It’s like Dave died right along with A. and I can’t even talk to him anymore. I guess I’ll give it a few more days. After all, we did just lose our brother… For the life of me I cannot remember What made us think that we were wise and We'd never compromise For the life of me I cannot believe We'd ever die for these sins We were merely freshmen ~~Freshmen, The Verve Pipe 6 days sober |
| 160. Great Expectations? | ID #501134 |
| Posted: 4-12-2007 @ 12:21 am EDT | |
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Every street is dark And folding out mysteriously Where lies the chance we take to be Always working Reaching out for a hand that we Can't see... I don't get it, I just don't get it... I didn't want to relapse; I fought it with everything in me. I loved sobriety and all it's perks...you know, like knowing what the hell is going on in the world around me and being able to talk to other people without believing they were after me...simple little things like that... I quit smoking on March 1st. It was the four month mark of sobriety for me and that is where I usually get all that damned grandiose thinking, like thinking that I am not an addict because I have gone four hole months sober. (LOL, isn't that silly?) So I decided to take the next step forward in my battle for a productive life in order to bring on a new challenge. I slapped on a patch that very first morning. Funny thing is, by the end of the second week, I could forget to put my patch on in the morning and not notice. I smoked for 17 years, up to 4 packs a day at some points, and I didn't miss cigarettes at all. In fact, I started to love the smell of my dish detergent, a fresh newspaper, and even Xmas the Dog. I love being a non-smoker more and more every day. So why can't I kick the cravings for dope??? Invitation to the last dance Then it's time to leave But that's the price we pay When we deceive The vast majority of meth addicts will end up dead as a result of the drug. It's devastating. Every day, every move, every thought is controlled by the drug. You can't even see what's real and what is a mirage after being high and not sleeping for days at a time. I thought I was loosing my mind by Easter Sunday. It was almost three weeks into my binge and I had slept a total of 14 hours, 2 hours at a time and then poured a box of wine down my throat in an attempt to stave off the cravings. I kept hearing this ringing. It had been going on for days and the weird thing was that every time I heard it Dave would yell at me that I was ringing. I thought the ringing was just in my head but if Dave actually heard me ringing...well, why the hell would I ring. It was my phone. I just didn't understand what he was saying. I finally found it. It was in the bottom of the small trash can that sits next to my nightstand. The caller ID said it was A. calling from his cell phone. I answered but it wasn't A. It was his ex-wife calling to tell me that A. had died early Saturday morning from a heart attack. Meth, it's sneaky. There is no such thing as a meth overdose, really. There is no official toxicity limit for meth. It just blows up your heart. Dave left Monday for A.'s funeral but not before making sure I was back on my meds. They make me so tired that I can hardly stay awake. Cymbalta...Depakote...Seraquell...Lithium...I'm almost a different person now. At least I am numb. I don't think I could stand this without Dave here. I wanted so badly to go, but Dave said (and I sorta agreed) that Missouri would be a bad place for me right now. I don't want to be like A...I don't want to be one of the 90%+ of meth addicts that die addicted to the drug. I don't want to keep doing the same thing over and over and over. I just don't know how to fight this thing anymore; I can't fight it. I give up. I give it to God. The only thing I can do now is hope he's there... ...campfire flickering On the landscape That nothing grows on But time still goes on And through each life of misery Everybody's gotta hold on hope It's the last thing that's holding me ~~Hold On Hope, Guided by Voices Day 5 sober |
| 159. One small step for Sugarkind | ID #500303 |
| Posted: 4-8-2007 @ 12:32 am EDT | |
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They showed you a statue and told you to pray They built you a temple and locked you away But they never told you the price that you pay For things that you might have done..... Okay, so tonight I am sober…somewhat. ..in this case “sober” meaning I ain’t high on meth. It’s a start, right? In desperation, I reached for old reliable…the cheap box of wine. Quite frankly, I can’t afford any better and I’ve already blown half of my furniture budget on dope. There is no way I will get the furniture I need for the new house. I’m gonna have to swallow my pride and tell my dad what I’ve done so that somebody will buy my kid a bed. I suck… Anyways, I had a point, that point being that I wish I knew what the hell I was getting into when I snorted that first line. A friend here on WDC recently told me that it changes people, and boy was she right… When I stop and think about the dreams that I used to have of what I could be then and compare them to the person I am today…well, I can’t say that I am totally not myself but I can say that I am not the person I hoped to grow up to be. She wouldn’t recognize me. You got a nice white dress and a party on your confirmation You got a brand new soul And a cross of gold But Virginia they didn't give you quite enough information I thought of moving to the South as some sort of baptism. I’ve even rationalized Katrina as some sort of extreme baptism, what with all that water. So many times, I have told myself I was a whole new woman now. I had a whole new wardrobe and all new furniture and a new place to live and new friends. How could I not be a new woman now? Well, like will find like wherever you go and of course I managed to find the very, very few meth addicts here in the south and/or they found me. I am the same woman with the same addictions, just in a different geographical location. Not only did nobody tell me when I snorted that first line that meth would consume me, but nobody told me that no matter how far I ran away from it, it would find me. My dealer/friend(?) said I was “white-knuckling it” tonight when she called to see if I was coming down again and I told her I was too drunk already. I meant to be too drunk. I don’t want to be on meth anymore, especially not for Easter. She progressed even further, calling me a pussy and a punk, and then I could suddenly see myself in her…and it made me sick to my stomach. It was crossing the line, an imaginary one, which I had always drawn for myself between dealer and pusher. I would like to say that I never pressured anybody like that, but I’d be lying. So many times a regular “client” had come to me with no money when they were crashing. I always hooked them up, thinking the whole time what a conscientious drug dealer I was. In truth, it was all for me anyways. Those regulars, they were my bread and butter and if they didn’t stay on it I would lose money. That was why I did it and I’m sure that is why my dealer now was willing to throw me a bone tonight. So yeah, I’m human. I’m mean and nasty when it comes to business and I’ll fight you to the death if it comes to my family, I’ll even tuck my tail between my legs if it gets me what I want in the end. I know what I want, and what I want is to not be one of the 92% of meth addicts that die addicted to the drug or in jail. If that means turning myself into an alcoholic first, then so be it. Bring it on, Alcoholism. I can take it! I’ve battled meth…now let’s see if I can win… They say there's a heaven for those who will wait Some say it's better but I say it ain't I'd rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints Sinners are much more fun... ~~Only the Good Die Young, Billy Joel |
| 158. Damned if I do and damned if I don't | ID #500117 |
| Posted: 4-6-2007 @ 11:42 pm EDT Edited: 4-6-2007 @ 11:44 pm EDT | |
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So I finally get the balls up to come back here and see if I had been abandoned. I can’t say I was shocked, but not only had I not been abandoned, the entire community rallied around me filling my inbox with great advice (thanks, BeautyFromAshes |
| 157. Thanks, but I don't deserve it | ID #499657 |
| Posted: 4-5-2007 @ 2:51 am EDT | |
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Okay, this sucks. This is my journal now and I’ve nowhere else to write about this but I guess its better that ya’ll knew anyway. I’ve had a relapse. I’m sober now, but only by a few hours and I’m so sad… |
| 156. Later... | ID #498408 |
| Posted: 3-29-2007 @ 9:53 pm EDT | |
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So take the photographs and still frames in your mind Hang them on a shelf in good health and good time Tattoos and memories and dead skin on trial For what it’s worth, it was worth all the while It’s something unpredictable, but in the end it’s right I hope you had the time of your life ~~Good Riddance, Green Day This place has meant the world to me, really it has. I have never felt as at home anywhere than on these pages. Where else can a person go and make it public knowledge that they are a drug addict and find people that not only accept that but make no judgments? You guys have been like family. I was planning to make this a long entry with a personal note to all of my friends here, but I just can't. I am so sad that I won't be around for a while. It's not that this site takes up too much of my time, it's not that anybody has hurt my feeling or anything like that. My subscription expires at noon tomorrow and I just don't have the money to renew it what with all the things that we need to get for the house. So I should be back sometime after June 1st, the date we plan to move into our new home. Our house payment will be almost less than half of our rent payment is now so I will have some money then. In the mean time, I will be reading blogs, I just won't be writing one. |
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