Tuesday, February 8, 2011

don't tell anyone...

I wanted to start this blog so I can write about the reality of my life without any lies, stories, or pretenses. I've always kept a journal and been honest there if nowhere else, but the practice never failed to get me into trouble from childhood on. At this point in my life, I can't afford to lose what I have by outing myself and my habits, but the act of writing truthfully is cathartic. So here's my secret blog.

My name is SJ. I'm a white female in my 20s living in America. I'm currently living with my parents until I finish school and find a job. I'm a single mother to a 2 1/2 year old girl who I will call R. [To be honest, it's not going to be easy not typing her name, because I chose the most beautiful name I could think of for her, since a name is the first real gift you give your child. But anonymity is important for both of us- therefore, she is R.] I'm a Dean's List student at a local culinary school and I love food. I eat healthy and feed my daughter even healthier. I'm also a secret junky.

I started using oxycodone in April 2010 with my ex-boyfriend. I'd wait until my daughter went to bed at night, eat one 30mg roxicontin, smoke weed, and float away into space. By August, I was snorting them, selling them for someone else, and using daily. I guess I have an addictive personality. By the end of September I was alternating between smoking and snorting the blues (as they are colloquially known in my area) and had a full-fledged physical and psychological addiction. I've tried quitting, but didn't put much effort into my attempts (honesty! holy crap!) so I never managed to last longer than a few days, and even then only when using suboxone. I think I want to quit, I'm not quite sure if I'm happy or sad with the way my life is going. The only thing I'm 100% sure of lately is that I love my daughter and I'm happy with her. I doubt that will ever change.

Sunday is the first day I'll write about, I guess. I basically stayed in the kitchen all day making food for the super bowl, although I don't care in the slightest bit about the game and didn't even know who was playing until the day of. I made a large array of delicious snacks which I ate with my daughter while ignoring the television, which I enjoyed greatly. It reminds me, if just for a second, that there's more to my life than just baby and pills and weed. I also have my kitchen skills and passion. But then to remind me, my dude sends me a text asking if I needed any blues. I said yes, figuring he wouldn't be by until 10pm at the earliest and it wasn't quite 7pm then. He said he'd be over soon, so I put a coat and shoes on R and we jogged over to the ATM. She loves going for night runs when it's cold out, and we weren't in a huge hurry (to my dude, even "soon" means "in a couple hours") so I let her wander and see the plants and play with her gloves and all those little things that toddlers find so amusing.

I let her stay up late in anticipation of receiving a text from this dude letting me know that he was on his way. She was watching the halftime show anyway- she loves the Black Eyed Peas. My parents were both home, and they could keep an eye on her while I went right out front to his car to "smoke a cigarette". My parents know nothing of my extra-curricular activities and must be kept in the dark. But by 830, he hadn't hit me up so I went ahead and lay down with R in the bed and watched cartoons with her and gave her a back rub to put her to sleep. Sure enough, I get a text "I'll be there in 10." Crap. I lay with her until he calls to tell me he's right outside, tell R that I'll be right back and just watch the cartoon for a minute, and go outside to "answer my phone". I run to him, make the exchange, and am back in before 2 minutes are up. I return to our room and R is fast asleep- how cute. I kiss her, go back outside and sit in front of the garage, and proceed to get blitzed smoking 2 1/2 blues, which is 75mg of oxycodone, along with 2 bowls of high-quality tree. I'm not sure why I did that much. It's sort of a mystery to me at this point.

Yesterday morning I woke up without a trace of withdrawal symptoms, probably because I smoked such a ridiculous amount the night before. I wasn't worried about sickness because I still had 2 blues for the day. I always get nervous when I wake up knowing I don't have anything to keep me well. I bathed R and got myself ready for school. We were in the classroom that day since it was a Monday, which isn't very interesting. I just eat a lot of fruit and doodle in my book when we aren't actively taking notes. Fruit is one of the main ways I've lost 36 pounds recently. Well, that and drugs I suppose. But I started out a bit overweight, so my current weight is perfect for my height and frame- I don't look skinny or malnourished or strung out or anything. I sniffed half a blue before school and half a blue during school in the bathroom. I missed my ride to the bus stop closer to my house (I think he wasn't at school yesterday?) and also forgot my bus pass at home so I had to take the 20 bus all the way from school. My dad picked me up instead of having me transfer to the 4 bus because apparently R hadn't napped and was driving my mom crazy. I get home, hug R, sniff a quarter of a blue to give me energy, and start cooking.

I just bought a pasta machine, so I set out to make whole-grain cheese ravioli to go with the tomato sauce I'd cooked up the night before. I made up the dough and allowed R to help me feed it into the sheeter- she's such a good helper. We ate, played with blocks, and I put her to bed in a more leisurely manner than the night before. Dude showed up to serve me at about 1130pm and I got 2 to add to the half I still had left over. I went to sleep as soon as I scored them instead of immediately smoking one, which I was hoping I'd have the willpower to do.

Part of being a secret junky, also known as a "functioning addict", is making sure you always have enough to last until you can get more. Slurping down your whole stash quickly, making a late-night buy and using it all, going into withdrawal the next day, then scoring and getting wasted off all of it immediately, etc- these are behaviors I can't allow myself. I really like waking up with some, it satisfies the psychological addiction which I believe is the real problem. That's the part of my brain that creates imaginary physical symptoms when I know I don't have any more pills or am waiting for a delivery. I could have just used an hour ago, and the monkey on my back whispers in my ear that my nose is starting to run, my stomach is starting to turn, my head is starting to pound, and it can all be fixed with drugs. I can tell it's fake because the minute the blues are in my hand I feel perfectly fine. That monkey is a real pain in the ass.

Today was a preschool day for R, so I woke up and took her at about 845am. I came home and took a shower. I love taking a shower on R's preschool days because I can actually wash my hair as well as my body without hearing "Mama? You takin' a bath mama? I come in and find you soap?" or watching tiny hands throw open the curtain. Sometimes I skip showers on non-preschool mornings just because I hate rushing and I don't want her to slip and fall on the wet bathroom floor while attempting to enter the shower in her pajamas. Then I did a half because I hadn't gotten wasted the night before so the (possibly imaginary) withdrawal was raging. Then I went with my mom to the doctor's office so that we could go out for breakfast before school. I ate a couple salads with beets and cabbage and other healthy stuff with olive oil and rice vinegar on top instead of creamy dressing (all creamy dressings are mayonnaise, and mayo is gross). I did another half at 1130am before going to school, where we made fruit pies and fruit tarts. I'm looking forward to eating those tomorrow after they've had a chance to cool down.

My dad picked me up from school today since he was driving right by me about 10 minutes after my class let out. I got home at 445, did another half, and went to pick up R. A half doesn't get me high at all, it just gets me "normal" and energetic and focused and in a much better mood. The only time I actually get high is at night after R is asleep. I love that kid so much. We went to our favorite natural-foods store to pick up all the specialty ingredients we can't live without (R has severe digestive issues and instead of paying for expensive medical tests I just cut the foods I know affect her from her diet completely) like almond milk, organic muesli, kefir, robiola cheese, miso paste, raw green energy bars, and ground flaxseed. I made us grilled fontina on sprouted whole wheat bread for dinner, and put R to bed.

My pill dude originally told me he could come by around 11pm, but then changed his mind and said he was staying the night in a city about an hour away at a mutual friend's house. I smoked my last blue at about 9pm tonight, which means I'll wake up with fake withdrawal symptoms since I'll know I'm out. Sucks to be me, but that's all just part of being a junky, secret or otherwise. He says he can come by tomorrow morning before he goes to work and I go to school, but he's not the most reliable businessman so it's not exactly a sure thing. I really do hope he comes through or else I'm going to have to start quitting before I'm really ready to. I'm thinking it might be best if he doesn't and I start kicking (I do have a very small amount of suboxone to wean myself off with, but I don't want to waste it on a 2 day break). But of course I'm saying that now, when I'm still high. Let's see how I feel tomorrow morning.

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