Current mood:	content
Current music:	Nirvana - Do Re Mi

A long awaited update
So this is my December; not only the month that exists in a year, but the atmosphere of snowfrost and grey shades that cover whats left of my gloomy soul. Uh oh, i'm turning into a cheesy, melodramatic goth now.

These stupid Darvocets that the doc gave me for my prostate pain DON'T FUCKING WORK and make me loopy as hell. Not to mention dizzy and drowsy. I fell over two fucking times. When I asked him for something stronger, with less side-effects(like Tylenol 3, mind you, which is still very mild)he basically told me to fuck off... just not in those exact words. He knew that I had abused Heroin since he treated my infected arm. Yes, yes, I sucked so much that I botched up an intravenous injection of black tar and got a subcutaneous injection. Whatever they cut it with sure as hell wasn't very healthy. So it swelled up, and I couldn't move it without immense pain. It got really hot and gave me a fever. So the doc gave me antibiotics, and of course no pain meds thank you very much. I had to call him back to ask for pain meds for my goddamn prostate problems too. Fuck you Dr. Mansolo, I hope you get in a car wreck and feel immense pain that you can't get help for, and have to live with it for a few fucking days. Anyway i'm done ranting. The basic point is, that most doctors stress that PAIN SHOULD BE DEALT WITH FIRST, and then the possiblity of dependence. You always treat the pain first and ask questions later. Some doctors don't obey this nowadays with the Oxycontin scare and they're fucking assholes in most cases.

I moved out the apartment about two months previously. It was going well for awhile. But then my roomates and I started indulging more and more into drugs and it turned ugly, like it always does with the rotten fruit of excess. I got to the point where I couldn't get a job, I had no money to support my two ballons a day drug habit(ballons cost fucking $15 in Austin, and that's if you know someone well enough. If you're an outsider they cost $20.. what a gyp). So I moved back into my mom's house and went through withdrawal. I had sold most of my Adderall(90 10mgs per month)and most of my Klonopin(120 1mg's a month), so I had to withdrawal from those two. Think how fun it is to withdrawal from uppers, downers, and opiates at the same time. Then think about stepping on a rusty nail a few hundred times and getting lockjaw. That begins to describe the mental pain. The physical pain is cold sweats from hell, horrible aching joints, diahhrea that takes 6 Immodiums to cure, and being unable to do anything while wanting to do something because you're so bored and weak. But I'm 8 weeks sober now. And I feel like my dopamine, seratonin, and my endorphins have returned to normal finally. I realized that I can't trust myself on Opiates. I can handle other drugs(yah yah, most NA people will tell you that drug addicts will get addicted to other drugs but that is not true)fine. When I don't sell my Adderall and Klonopin I use them exactly how i'm supposed to. I hardly ever drink alcohol, and I hate drinking more than two drinks and I fucking hate getting drunk. Alcohol is a shitty ass drug, I have no clue why it's so sociable.

I'm going to ACC for Spring quarter. I want to transfer to UT, and soon. I don't know yet what I want to major in, but I want to major in something in Liberal Arts. I was thinking of psychology. No, not becoming a Doctor but maybe becoming a addiction counselor. But basically I want to help people. I was also thinking of Civil Rights, or joing the Peace Core. I just feel a need to start helping people, since all of my life i've taken and never given back. I need to balance my karma.

So anyone going to ACC around here? I'll be at the Northridge and Cypress campuses each week and it would be cool to meet a live journal user.

Anyway, I love ya guys and i'm thankful for your support. I've stopped doing the bad things which was the only way I could support my drug habit and I feel much better not having to bury the ever increasing guilt, and using Heroin to escape from it. I'm going to write a huge story about my experiences, loosely based on them of course for my Composition 2 class. It will be called "The Essential Art of Escapism." Sounds catchy eh? I figure if I write well enough that the teacher might find that I have some talent and encourage me to write more. My dream was always to become an author. There is nothing greater than reading a book that changes your philosophy of life, or that enriches your life.