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So I bucked up the other day, I went to a shirk. I forced myself with everything I had in me, like starting a 15 page report for school to get out of bed and go. I was so scarred and nervous, I have never been to a shrink before. I didn’t know this guy from Jack.( which incidentally was his name) You get there give them your 15 bucks, fill our some paper work and look around in the waiting room and wonder what the lady next to you is there for. There really are a bunch of crazy people in the waiting room. Kinda scary.
So I talked to this guy we will call Jack, and he was actually very nice, the first impression of him was great, I got to sit in a recliner that had duck tape strapped around the seem of the seat, I fount this partially odd for no good reason, but it was the first thing I noticed. I never thought it would be good for me to spill out my feeling to someone who is getting paid to listen to them, but it actually helped, If Jack was pretending to really care he did a good job and that is fine with me. Told him about my drug abuse of opiates, and all the other drugs I have tried and done which to no surprise filled up a whole page almost, he could hardly keep up. We then actually talked about ADD and ADHD for some more time. He thought it may be a good idea to talk with my doc. about going back on meds for this, well I am not really excited about this, but may be the best thing for now.
Then to the problem of why I did drugs he says I am having post traumatic stress disorder, which I really don’t want to talk about at this time, but its kinda crazy, because I never really knew what I was feeling there was actually a term for it. I have had these reoccurring thoughts in my head about an event that had happen almost like flash backs. Yea that is the best way I can describe it, you don’t know what it does to people. The thought just keeps repeating itself into your brain and you get this feeling that I really have a hard time describing, it almost eats at your insides and feeling like it needs to come out. Maybe in the future I can talk about this some more. Its just really hard to even relive it in the now, since I am constantly reminded of it subconsciously. I feel really sorry for the guys and girls that come back from Iraq and Afghanistan, what they see I can’t imagine, but it makes me cry. I’m a 27 year old dude, with a few friends over there, and most of them rarely talk about it, just like I don’t like to talk about my shit that had happened to me. Its a bummer.
Take care,
pol
I like to ruin photos of people. They are looking their best think they have the perfect photo then they develop it and they see my ugly mug making a stretched out face with one squinty eye. Yea I really have a good time doing that. I have had this feeling in my stomach like I don’t really like who I am, something about me wants to change, I yearn to be a better person, a more likable person, a more popular person. I don’t know why I feel this way, but I hate to answer the phone when one on my friends calls especially if I am with another friend, then I have to make up some lame excuss why I can’t hang out with them, because I am already hanging out with my other friend who runs in a different circle. This happens to me I would say a couple times a week. Now just think if I were popular how would I handle this situation. I mean honestly sometimes I don’t answer my phone to avoid the situation. So I have been buzzing my hair, I like it and all, but I think I am going to grow it out a little bit, mostly so I can leave it a mess and never comb it. Do you ever have friends that are just so needy, I do I had to fix his mom’s computer today, but before that I had to get him a sandwich from my work for him and his old bag, then he calls me on my way and ask me to get him a drink, fucks sake man give it a break, I am already waisting 3 hours of my time to fix your mom’s computer, now you want all this bull shit to go with it? He’s like on this medicine right for pain, well that may or may not have been were my problem with opiates started, but anyway, I guess you could say that he has a problem with them too. I don’t crave opiates now, don’t want them and no need for them, but the fuck knows I have a problem and still offers them to me. But tonight he was out, he ran out of his prescription Early, I’m talkin Early 7 days to be exact. So you know this fuck I call a friend wants me to find him some pills, DUDE I’m in rehab for the shit and you want me to go get you pills, that could be the one thing that sets me off my rocker, So I pretend to care and tell him I will try and we both smile at each other and know that, that will never happen. Then to top it off he wants me to take him to get this taxes done next week, after my physiologist apt., because his wife wreaked the car in Valium raged sleep at the wheel she had the other day into a telephone pole
So I had to go smoke a cig real quick I was kinda getting annoyed at the whole situation. But I’m all better now!
Take care
POL
I think I like to be sad and depressed, I like when people talk down at me sometimes, at work today this customer jumped my shit because the coffee was not ready when he went to get it, so like a 2 minute Wait would have killed him, but yea apparently, he about stroked out. I gave the fuck back his money and pretended to care. The point of this is that I kinda enjoyed him yelling at me, don’t get me wrong I didn’t jump up and down like I scored a bag of dope, but felt content. I don’t know if maybe this has something to do with my problems I have, but I guess I could tell my Physiologist about it, if I would ever go to one.
When I am happy it seems like there is something wrong, I almost feel better when I’m sad.
I love the big fat fucks that come into my work and try to put me out of my game, cause there wife is a bitch or husband, they try to get to me but I won’t allow it, I just smile at them and say I am so very sorry about that.
Sorry for it has been a while since I have posed, I will be back soon.
pol
stupid at 17, willing to try anything. I had no cares no worries, just trying to live the good life as a weezer album once said. This is when the drugs began to take hold. It all started out innocent, taking a couple of vicodin to feel good. This rapidly changed. Before i knew it i was doing dog food. (For the unhip this is heroin) I never though I would be a junkie. Never could this happen to me, but before i knew it I was a full blown addict. ON 4/10/2008 I said fuck this. I have no money, i always felt like shit, and was close to throwing it all away. For what? I heard of a drug that you could actually get from a doctor without faking something or making something out worse than it is, that would help you feel better. I though no fuckin way man for real? It was.. Suboxone…. In the last five days I have not used a single big of fuckin dog, or any type of those nasty phmarisutical pill. Suboxone is a pharmaceutical, but not the nasty kind. To explain in one sentence; it only partially hooks on to your opioid receptor and last 36 hours, were nasty pharmy’s fully hook and list for 4, then you feel like shit. In the coming days and years I am going to use this is therapy and hopefully someone will read this besides my friends and not do stupid shit. To all my friends who I have abandoned the last few years please forgive me you know who you are……… pol
