Monday, January 19, 2009

Overstimulated and underappreciated

I have no earthly idea why the fuck I am still awake. I had a somewhat eventful Friday but......Ugh! One of the reasons I decided heroin was so choice was that in the beginning (before I got strung out) I could get high as fuck and then feel absolutely fine the next day. Not so with speed, it takes me days to get normal after one night.....or so. You are so right Kelley, we are indeed downer girls....but boredom is a motherfucker.
I could go into all the little details about what went on Friday night/morning but I haven't the presence of mind to do so right now. My inner story teller is on a bit of a hiatus, she's a moody cunt and has decided to hold my recent bout with the cryssy against me. So I'm gonna do what I do best, some misc bitching interspersed with random news of my less than interesting life.
First the bitching...heheh what a surprise. My bitch-cunt psych put me on Cymbalta. Words cannot describe the dislike I feel for that woman and her condescending ways...but I'll try anyway. I think what stands out the most about my last visit was when she looked down her nose at me and asked, "Sooooooooo *long pause* Melody, what exactly is it you think I can help you with?"
That asshole didn't even wait for an answer before she started uh-huh-ing me and scribbling notes on her stupid clipboard. Then she asked me how I did on the last crap she prescribed me. Uh clonodine and Elavil....? Hmmm how did I do on what amounts to blood pressure medicine and an anti-depressant older than my mother? Well the clonodine dropped my pressure so low I was having heart palpitations and that lame-ass 29th generation tricyclic made me twitch like a marionette with turret's! Not a pleasing combination and definitely not what I was looking for in a medication. I'm not particularly depressed and my blood pressure is just fine. For whatever reason she can't wrap her mind around the fact that I'm not suffering from some kind of depressive disorder. These days the only thing that makes me feel blah is the fact that I've been denied the pleasure of shooting H for months. *grumbling*
I'm supposed to be getting treated for anxiety and some other shit that makes them want to put me on anti-psychotics HAHAHAHAHAHA! I am so not psychotic! I have no idea why they think that, it started with the tray incident when I was in lockup and has plagued me ever since. I understand why my actions at that time might have been interpreted as a psychotic episode but come the fuck on! I had been on an INSANE run, shooting dope every day and/or taking methadone for YEARS and I do mean years! All that time with no break made for the most miserable withdrawl experience I have EVER been through. I had been guzzling methadone for months in an effort to lessen my habit, so when I got gaffled up I had to kick that shit cold.
Luckily I had been on self destruct mode for a few weeks and when they caught up with me I had eaten about 20mgs of Klonopin and done a crazy big shot. Seriously, it was the kind of shot that you know is too much even as you draw it up. I remember chewing K-pins while I was loading up the outfit thinking "shit the bed Loretta this is way too much dope"............and then sticking myself with it anyway. I was not really caring that day. I have a vague recollection of walking to Rite aid and then getting slung over a cop's shoulder. Then I was in an ambulance....then I was getting booked....then I woke up 3 days later when the COs were dragging my ass into the showers to get ready for court. The lucky part being that I slept through the first few days of my kick....too bad it lasted for 3 months.
I wish I could get a copy of my mugshot, I was so wasted that I had 3 cops holding me up, one on each arm and a third holding my head. It's fucking hilarious, you can see them in the shot and my eyes are rolled back in my head, I may even be drooling. Haha if I ever manage to get my hands on it I'll post it up.
Sorry. got carried away with my war story, back to the bitch-cunt psych. She ignored me as usual and then told me she thought I was suffering from several disorders but that in her opinion I enjoyed being afflicted. She said (in so many words)that I have been so batshit crazy for so long that it has become a huge part of who I am.
Hmmm she may be right for once though I don't really think I'm crazy.....but that's probably what a crazy bitch would say. A circular argument at best and I'm too burned out to pursue it right now.
I found my "sensitive" Casper on myspace and I'm happy about that. He commented some poetic nonsense on my myspace blog that basically amounted to telling the world that I made him into the junky mess he is now. Oh well, he's not gonna surprise anyone with that info, Bako is the kind of place where everybody knows your business...and loves to discuss it on a regular basis. They know all about me, Casper and everybody else.
I can only take credit for a small part of Christian's junky journey. I got him started and then pulled my usual bullshit and ditched him for Casey. We ended up selling to him and his misc girlfriends over the years and he and Casey are cool now. I was with Casper for maybe 6 months but it was long enough for him to decide that he wanted to be as retarded as I was and shoot some dope. After much whining and pleading I gave in and the rest is Bako junk history. Now he's as big a Dopefiend as I ever was and he talks like a character out of a W.S. Burroughs novel. I think this is ridiculously funny and tell him so, he also has a fixation with Johnny Thunders but that's cool 'cause The New York Dolls were the shit. I do think the J.T. is a lil (ALOT) whiny though, shh don't tell Cas, his sensitive nature couldm't take another betrayl.
So yeah, I miss Christian and it worries me to see him look so wrung out and skinny but what can I do? He's my friend and I love him, we have history together. His family thinks I'm the devil.....can't say I blame them. As far as his mom is concerned not only did I wreck his heart, I ruined his life....yep, that sounds like me at 17. Hell, it kinda sounds like me now. Nah, I'm way more responsible about shit now. I AM!
I think Regina is gonna make the trip with us as far as Cali, she wants to go to Bako and look up friends and enemies alike. It should be interesting to say the least. Reg has rage issues and will probably start shit with half the usual. After that we're gonna head to LA and Ventura and maybe go see Jerry, then she'll fly back to Washington.
I got a call from Anna last night, she told me she's packed and ready to come here. I'm happy and I really want to see her but her kids are like a 3 ring circus. She has an 11 yr old son who has grown into a serious discpline problem. I love the kid but he's a prick and I swear I will drop him in the desert if he pisses me off. I've been getting taunted with auntie Melody comments from all sides and Casey has enjoyed reminding me that I will be suckered into babysitting on a regular basis. UGH! I will too, I know it.
I feel like sheeeeeiiiiiiittt! Wow, this is not going to end anytime soon, I feel it in my aching bones. I am going to be feeling like crap and acting like a sawed off cunt for at least another day.
I have to go in for an EMG on Wednesday, my doc tells me that I have somehow acquired peripheral neuropathy and since I'm not diabetic or HIV positive they need to do some tests to figure it out. I got another pint of blood taken and they ran the usual panel and came up with jack. I'm disease free and everything is working as it should. So this tingly thing is either idiopathic or I have some unknown degenerative nerve disorder. SWEET! Maybe I can look forward to a facial tick and incontinence sometime in the distant future. Sexy!
On the upside, I hear you get some choice meds for that shit and if I'm gonna spend my twilight years twitching and pissing myself I may as well do it loaded on Dilaudid and Oxy. HAHAHA, see I'm not depressed! I think that this is a very positive way of looking at things.
That psych can go get fucked where she breathes, I will NOT be taking the Cymbalta! I checked with some of my junky underground and heard nothing but horror stories connected to it. It sounded way too close to what happens when I take Seroquel...NO THANK YOU! If I want to feel like I have a hellacious case of cotton fever I will do it the old fashioned way.
So enough of this, I'll leave y'all now. I'm gonna go eat a few percs and try and pass out. I'll post Friday's meth moron-a-thon next time, I'm spent. Love to ya kids, Melody.