So 2 weeks have gone by already. The 12 induction days are now over, what a relief ! I can still remember how I was living this, how days went by so slowly, with those 2 ‘girls’, those 2 bi*ches ‘rendering ‘ my life hell. Today, while we were on our meth doctor’s rendez-vous or consultation, one of my ex-induction friends (i accept to employ the word ‘friend’ here, how kind of me!) was talking over to me and that conversation TOOK ME BACK TO THE DAYS! Yes, back to the 12 induction days when we were all together, ha! To cut this story short (since I’m not writing about this today, some other day maybe…), I’m just glad I made it out! I imagined two more days with these animals in that cacophonic jukebox, that cacophonic cage, and I would have hung myself out dry, shyiiit. Believe it or not, I even made a rope out of my blanket, ready to be used… “Anytime!” I mumbled, without even shedding a tear, not even afraid of dying, well it was just for a few minutes, since that feeling quickly got out of me.

So today, when I went over to my meth doctor on consultation, the latter asked me if all’s well, if I didn’t get any side effects from my methadone or if I encountered any craving during my first week out and if I’m happy with my current meth dose. Well I told him the truth, nothing but the plain truth: every morning, I would wake up with my yawnings and running nose well, not as much as the time when I was addicted to heroin like back in the days LOL, but I’m not supposed to get any of this, not even an inch of all this ! My body was not on top mode, which is true as compared to the days when I was on induction. Even if I didn’t sleep at that time, my bosy was not as torn as it is now; we had less physical activities, less thinking to do and most of all, no stress at all, no phone ringing, no email to check, no meeting, nothing! As on my current life situation, when all’s back on other than the heroin cravings gone, I would have to, for instance, assist my parents in cleaning their yards, yes yards with an ‘s’. The truth? Well, I prefer to stay at work premises rather than spend a day home when my parents are at home as well since there would always be somewhere to go, something to do, no rest at all. And the days where we have nothing to do (meaning no cleaning or house chores), well, we would spend the days at the beach swimming and running on the beach. And I’d be all cranked up the next day at work, body all messed up, cramps, etc…

So I told all this to my meth doc and the latter just thought that was gibberish, from what I could conclude. The first thing he would mention was that I didn’t do as much physical efforts in an office, forgetting the fact that office is a part of my life. He said he would raise my daily meth dose but the question remains, since he didn’t write anything in front of me, and that’s quite discouraging.

Because then, the devil would lurk around me and maybe at a later stage, push me back on the streets who knows?? I know very well that a higher meth dose (maybe a 5ml raise might do to start with) is not recommended. Is it not better to be on a relatively higher meth dose than to hit back the streets ?

Think about it !

My mom wants me to get rid of my scars...But i find i really don't want too. I don't not want to wake up and not see them there on my left shoulder, on my left wrist and my right hip bone. Sick? Very, i know. My own mom looked at me like i was crazy when i told her, which i probably am. No healthy person cuts themselves, that's obvious. Or at least in my case, used too.

I stopped cutting maybe a couple of months before high school graduation but it wasn't due to my mother finding me out. Instead my boyfriend did and made me promise to never do it again, cutting my mother to the punch line. My mom found out a month after him, i believe. She didn't believe me when i told her i stopped, so i gave her the scissors i used to hurt myself. That was my second step to stopping i guess. My third had to be when she got me medicine to take away the scars...but now on the fourth step, actually putting the stuff on, i'm stuck.

I've put it on once or twice but not religiously. I hate the idea of them not being there. They give me comfort and make me feel better. Am i wrong in wanting them there?

I have a poo phobia ! Help?
It's been going on for months now nearly a year, everytime I go out I feel like I'm going to poo my pants, I start panicking and just go straight home! But once I'm home I'm fine and don't need the toilet, also when I'm out my belly starts to hurt like I'm going to have diarrhoea but I don't. It's ruining my life! I never go out because of this! I don't like to travel for long or stay out long incase I do poo my pants help!

I have been wondering this for a while now. Ever since I was little, my Mom tried to fit in with her boy friend's life style. The guy could have been a raging alchoholic, who was a complete ass(most of them were) and she would stay with him, no matter what. Last year, I told my mom that my step brother had been sexually abusing me for a little over two years. When I told her, she at first seemed shocked and had called him in the room with my step dad. They kicked him out of the house for two days; during those two days, my mom didn't talk to me, yet alone speak to me. She began making me feel guilty for getting in trouble, and even tried bribing with my graduation dress for my 8th grade ceremony. I eventually gave in, and they moved him back in. I was forced to live with him for six months, until I ran away to my dad's house. The thing that I have had trouble coping with is how she could have just turned away from me. It hurts so much. I would have maybe understood if she was a dad, since they don't really go through the pregnancy and the pain mothers feel. I have just have had the hardest time grasping how my mom could have just left me like that. She told I could tell her anything. Why would she have done that? I'd like to assume she just has some mental illness that she had never told me about, but maybe she just didn't care what happened to me.

Until recently, I never viewed my introversion as much of problem. I was told at work that I "need to be more social". This really struck a cord with me because I never thought that as I began my adult life my introversion may limit my success . So I decided to start this blog and chronicle my journey of becoming 'more social'.

Why are you so quiet? He must me hiding something...

Now this is easier said than done of course. My whole life people have been telling me, 'you're so quiet', 'you should talk more' or my new favorite 'be more social'. It's gotten to the point where some people feel uncomfortable around me because I'm so quiet. What is it that makes them so uncomfortable? Is it that my behavior or lack there of, is so unusual they just can't stand it? Is it that I'm some psycho who's going to snap at any moment? Is it the natural human tendency to be afraid of someone who's not like you? Not my problem right? They should be more understanding. Well unfortunately in a world of extroverts it is my problem. As much as I would love to live in a world where everyone accepts each other the way they are, that's just not reality. It's an extroverts world and if I'm going to thrive and not just survive, I've got to get to work and figure something out. So I'm going to be more 'social'. I'm not sure what that will look like, but in the following months, if not years, I will try and look deeper into the complex relationship that introverts and extroverts have and attempt different strategies for becoming more 'social'.

Why is it that quiet people make others feel uncomfortable?

Please share your thoughts.