Let’s Cut Our Wrist and Then Burn Down Something.

I’m really fucking high right now, so if this comes off sounding crazier than usual, (or better than usual...hehe) you’ll understand why, but I had to get high. I haven’t been high for a long time now, mostly because I just can’t afford to buy any. It really hasn’t bothered me much not smoking, until the past week or so. I’ve been feeling jittery, nervous, agitated, or high-strung, as my last probation officer put it, from the moment I get up until the moment I force myself to lay down for a few hours of sleep.

I’ve had this feeling off and on over the years. When I was a teen and it would happen, I would often find myself locked up either in jail or in a nut house somewhere. That was one of the reasons I began smoking weed... To help calm me down and relax me from the agitated state that my mind often goes to for no reason. Fuck both of those places! Being locked up when I’m in this state of mind is usually never any good... I’m probably going to cut myself with the first sharp object I find or get into some altercation with those who have me incarcerated.

I’ve been trying everything short of cutting myself, or fucking with law enforcement, to bring myself out of this unsettling mood, and nothing seems to be working. So, when a friend from Tulsa called and asked me to stop by, I didn’t hesitate. I figure it’s better to be high than to commit a crime, injury myself, or do something else stupid.

I was met at the door with a 6-point beer and a hefty blunt, which I lit before I made it back to his bedroom. We sat on his bed, watching the news and discussing the latest information about Michael Jackson dieing. Half-way through the blunt, I began talking about some of my stress from the past week, and before I knew it, my stress was greatly diminished. Shit that I had been stressing over, suddenly didn’t feel like that big of deal any longer.

I FORGOT all my problems.. hehe.

A couple hours later, in possession of a limited amount of marijuana, (in case the stress returns), I cautiously made my way through Borg territory, and safely through the front door to my nicely chilled home. After relaxing for a little while, I managed to get some laundry done, and the house straightened to acceptable standards. Next, I called my little friend, and of course she told me to come right over.

The effects of the blunt still lightly lingered, so when we smoked a bowl, my high kicked right back in to a nice and relaxed state. If only this shit was legal there would probably be a lot less killing in this world. I mean, think about it... For me... If I’m high, I’m engrossed in other thoughts, I’m not angry or thinking about smashing in someone’s face.


If you don’t light up the darkness, you’ll always being living in the shadows.

I Did it Because...

I need to sleep like a baby.
(Me at one month old)

I had to go out for a drive tonight. I've been stressing over not having enough money for anything. I want to steal, but I refuse to let myself. Instead I just drove...around and around. I don't have money for weed and I'm tired of drinking, so I have to do something to take my mind somewhere else.

Finally got my rush. Wasn't a big one, but enough that I should sleep tonight. Thank you Officer RR. Just wish you wouldn't have been the one, I'm almost getting use to you. Anyway, I at least talked a little this time, which my therapist says is good. Still, not sure about that.

However, when the second officer showed up, panic set in even before I knew who the officer was. I'm not sure if I'll ever get past that feeling. I just knew I had to leave right then...luckily I was 'free to go' this time.

Officer R mentioned briefly that he was personally affected by someone's marijuana use, and that was why he was so hard on users. In my opinion, different people handle it differently. Where it maybe a problem for some, for others it can be a lifesaver. For me, there have been times had I not decided to 'go smoke one' someone might have ended up dead. Marijuana calms me down and keeps me from going on a possible violent killing spree. At other times, it kept me from taking my life. I just don't think about death and dieing when I'm high. Maybe marijuana wasn't for the person he knows, but for someone else it could mean life or death.

Time to sleep...I've got somewhere to go tomorrow...hehe.

This is as Normal as I Get

A person sent me an email the other day after they spent a little time on my site, and asked why I wasn’t currently taking medication for my bipolar disorder. He also said maybe I should be willing to try some of the newer meds that are out there. The thing is, I have tried many of the anti-psychotics out there. Too many to name each one.

All that I have tried over the years, leave me with some type of fucked up side effect, that is worse than living with the wild rides.

Here are what some of the atypical anti-psychotics can cause:

Metabolic Syndrome, increased risk for cardiovascular disease
Major Weight Gain (we're talking 50+ pounds in a fairly short time here)
Akasthisia (uncontrolled restlessness--feeling like you're jumping out of your skin)
Tardive Dyskinesia (irreversible, involuntary, dyskinetic movements)
Neuroleptic Malignant Syndrome (potentially fatal inability of body to regulate core temperature)
Diabetes
Loss of sexual orgasm.

Seroquel (another atypical) induced diabetes, massive weight gain (>100lbs) and metabolic syndrome in me. Abilify caused akasthisia and eye twitching.

And this is just a few of the problems I experienced while using these drugs. Now on the other hand, there is marijuana. Marijuana causes you to have the munchies, but other than that, there are no other fucked up side effects to worry about. When I’m having a really bad day dealing with my bi-polar disorder I want to smoke. And I don’t have to worry about involuntary body movements, or gaining 100 more fucking pounds. Their ‘wonderful’ drugs caused more problems than any street drug I have ever used. That’s why in the past 6 years I have refused their way to ‘cure’ me. I chose not to feel normal, if that is the price I have to pay. I’ll just smoke, and try to feel as close to normal as I can get.

This is what works for me. Some might still find peace in using the anti-psychotics, it is just not my choice. Use what works for you.

Don't Knock on Deaths Door, Instead Ring the Doorbell and Run

I wasn’t going to write about my weekend adventure, mostly because I haven’t felt like writing, or doing anything else for that matter. So hopefully this will help to bring me out of deteriorating mood that I’ve been in the past couple of days.

People having been telling me if I get out and do things that will make my moods better, so when a friend called and wanted to know if I wanted to go riding around with them, I thought why not I wasn’t doing anything else, except for sitting on my fat ass staring blankly at the dingy white walls around me.

My boys stayed with their dad, so I didn’t have to worry about them, even though they are old enough to be left alone for a few hours. My friends picked me up around 8 and we drove into Tulsa, after stopping off and picking up a 5th of Tequila from the local liquor store. We then stopped at my friends house, where we smoked a blunt and started in on the Tequila. I hadn’t smoked since I got arrested back on the 2 of April, so I quickly became high, which felt really great. Best mood I’ve been in for days.

There are some weeds when you smoke them they make you feel laid back and relaxed, where other weeds have the opposite effect, anyway on me they do. Well, this was one of the those other kinds of marijuana where when you smoke it, you want to get up and do a thousand things. You can’t sit still, you feel restless and most of the time I want to get up and clean something after smoking. Problem was I was at someone else’s house, so I had to sit there shifting back and forth in my seat while my friend made call after call. I was starting to regret coming, and thought about what I would be doing if I were at home....alone. Not a good thought, I was better off getting drunk and high. I took another huge drink.

Finally my friend hung up with a big smile on his face, and told us it was time to head out. While driving we passed around the bottle and enjoyed listing to the songs being played on the radio, until we made it to a house on the west side of town. My friend ran in and came back out just a few minutes later with a giant duffle bag. He quickly opened up the trunk of the car and sat the bag inside, then jumped back into the drivers seat. Immediately the strong odor of marijuana filled the car. Panic mode set in. Am I going to regret anything in the morning? Will I be waking up in jail cell? Little thoughts like these are scrambling around in my brain, making it hurt. I’m still in a little hot water for the other charge, so I damn straight didn’t want another one, or have to call another friend to come bail me out of jail. I sit back deep into the seat, take a few deep breathes and another sip from the bottle.

We safely made it back to his place, where he took the bag out and we all went back inside, sat down to smoke some more. It was then that I saw what all was in the duffle bag, over 5 pounds of bricked up marijuana. My mind begins racing, wondering what the fuck I was doing there at their house. I don’t want to be caught up in any crap, so I begin questioning, in my head, the friendship I have with them. I don’t have a lot of friends, but most of the friends that I do have are all drug addicts. I don’t have a single friend who is straight. So, if I decide not to hang around them, then I’m left alone with my crazy thoughts. Neither one is a good option, but in the end my mind thought, I would rather hang with someone than be totally alone. I just went along with things. Whatever happened would just have to happen.

After several rounds of drinks and joints being passed around, my friend broke down most of the weed into different bags and then placed it all back into the duffle bag. We then got back into the car and drove around to different places delivering the product to people he knew. While they went in the houses I just sat alone in the back seat cradling the bottle of Tequila.

Somewhere around midnight, we stopped at a place in Tulsa called Sharky’s. My friend told me he had to drop off one last package to someone inside, then we would head back to his place. At this point, I was so drunk I could barely stand, but I had to pee so bad I got out the car to go inside to the bathroom. From outside I looked in and saw my neighbor, and being drunk I thought I would sneak up on her and scare the crap out of her. Just for a little fun.

So, I’m tiptoeing drunkenly my way towards her, when I look up and notice who she is talking to. I damn near peed on myself! My heart felt like it was going to explode when I saw two local police officers standing there talking to her. They know who I am, and one of them I have been told is now working with the DEA. Shit! My mind screams. I backed off real fast. Even though they weren’t in their uniforms, and look a lot smaller out of their uniforms, they still scared the crap out of me. I quickly made it back to the car, praying they hadn’t they seen me.

I get into the backseat of the car, when suddenly in my mouth there is a party going on and everyone is throwing up. I promptly open the back door, and upchuck everything I had for dinner. When my friends all returned and see the puke beside the car, I requested that I be taken home for the night. I had enough excitement. And people wonder why I don’t want to leave my house some days.

The hardest thing I've had to learn in life, is which bridge to cross and which bridge to burn.

Marijuana....When will the insanity stop?

Pot Prisoners Cost Americans $1 Billion a Year

The latest numbers are out…nearly 800,000 Americans were arrested on marijuana charges in 2005. When will the insanity stop?

American taxpayers are now spending more than a billion dollars per year to incarcerate its citizens for pot. That's according to statistics recently released by the U.S. Department of Justice's Bureau of Justice Statistics.
According to the new BJS report, "Drug Use and Dependence, State and Federal Prisoners, 2004," 12.7 percent of state inmates and 12.4 percent of federal inmates incarcerated for drug violations are serving time for marijuana offenses. Combining these percentages with separate U.S. Department of Justice statistics on the total number of state and federal drug prisoners suggests that there are now about 33,655 state inmates and 10,785 federal inmates behind bars for marijuana offenses. The report failed to include estimates on the percentage of inmates incarcerated in county and/or local jails for pot-related offenses.
Multiplying these totals by U.S. DOJ prison expenditure data reveals that taxpayers are spending more than $1 billion annually to imprison pot offenders.
The new report is noteworthy because it undermines the common claim from law enforcement officers and bureaucrats, specifically White House drug czar John Walters, that few, if any, Americans are incarcerated for marijuana related offenses. In reality, nearly 1 out of 8 U.S. drug prisoners are locked up for pot.
Of course, several hundred thousand more Americans are arrested each year for violating marijuana laws, costing taxpayers another $8 billion dollars annually in criminal justice costs.
According to the most recent figures available from the FBI, police arrested an estimated 786,545 people on marijuana charges in 2005 -- more than twice the number of Americans arrested just 12 years ago. Among those arrested, about 88 percent -- some 696,074 Americans -- were charged with possession only. The remaining 90,471 individuals were charged with "sale/manufacture," a category that includes all cultivation offenses, even those where the marijuana was being grown for personal or medical use.
These totals are the highest ever recorded by the FBI, and make up 42.6 percent of all drug arrests in the United States. Nevertheless, self-reported pot use by adults, as well as the ready availability of marijuana on the black market, remains virtually unchanged.
Marijuana isn't a harmless substance, and those who argue for a change in the drug's legal status do not claim it to be. However, pot's relative risks to the user and society are arguably fewer than those of alcohol and tobacco, and they do not warrant the expenses associated with targeting, arresting, and prosecuting hundreds of thousands of Americans every year.
According to federal statistics, about 94 million Americans -- that's 40 percent of the U.S. population age 12 or older -- self-identify as having used cannabis at some point in their lives, and relatively few acknowledge having suffered significant deleterious health effects due to their use. America's public policies should reflect this reality, not deny it. It makes no sense to continue to treat nearly half of all Americans as criminals.

I've been to the edge.

I’ve been to the edge, falling off into what feels like a deep endless pit; Hitting face down in mud so deep that when you finally stood up the mud reached your knees. I would attempt to climb out, only to fall back into the muck a little deeper each time.

I first smoked marijuana at the age of 12 with a friend of my fathers. I didn’t really know what to expect and honestly I didn’t care. I was thinking more about the fact that my father’s friends were giving me attention. After only a few hits of the marijuana my head began to fly to other places, and it made me smile. The high kept my mind off what my fathers friends took turn doing to me, while I laid naked in the grass.
From that earliest time of being abused, I learned being high helped to make things ‘okay’, or at least easier to deal with. I guess that’s why I can’t stop smoking weed; it allows me to feel ‘okay’ when things aren’t going so good.
On New Years Eve I got high with a few friends for the first time in a few months. The next morning I got high again with the left over roaches that were in the ashtrays. I was so relaxed and at ease hiding in my back bathroom alone, smoking every little remaining piece that I could find. Later that evening my body wanted more, my mind wanted more, and I wasn’t going to deny myself any longer.
It’s been 5 days now since I’ve returned to smoking, and I already feel out of control. I just finished smoking 2 joints and as soon as I’m finished with this I’m going to go smoke another. It would help if the fucking weed was good, but the last bag I got from a bitch friend in Tulsa, the shit will barely get you high. One of my other connections from Eden got into a fight with his girlfriend and she threatened to turn him into the police, even though she smokes herself, so he won’t be selling any of the good stuff for a little while. My third guy from Glenpool got locked up, so now I’m going to my number 4 guy tomorrow or Saturday to see what he’s got.
Addictions suck.