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?

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 !

I'm not sure what I should do, I had a dream and my therapist was in my dream, by the way the dream was NOT sexual. I am wondering if I should tell him about my dream or not????

I am Hartlepool_lad, I have tried to type my experience on the blog about seven or eight times but each time I have erased it, the abusive voice in my head yells at me that no one is interested in my story and that I am alone, pathetic and other words that have been planted in my mind which I don't wish to reveal at the moment.

My systematic mental and physical destruction was to start almost immediately, I couldn't call or meet friends I had to explain where I'd been why I'd had to go there and what I had been doing while there and who had I spoken to, my phone and internet were checked as were my texts and e-mails. Bank account details were demanded and checked almost daily and a reason had to be forthcoming if I had withdrawn money, receipts were checked if I had paid for anything with my card, I was cut off from contacting family as she would put it “this is the only family that matters to you now” this was being constantly shored up with abuse of the type that I was crap at what I do, a useless person and painful insults that I can only shudder at now, I was verbally abused everyday, physically abused every day, I have been beaten, punched, kicked, humiliated, stabbed, had buckets of hot bleach thrown over me her aggression hightened if the house wasn't clean enough the dish washer hadn't been emptied or the ironing hadn't been done exactly how she wanted, constant accusations of infidelity, squandering money, being a useless person.

Then the torture of previous relationships started, I was given full and frank details of all the one night stands she'd had, I was informed by an ex friend of hers that she'd had threesomes and multiple encounters in one weekend.

She would regale me with the sordid details of these encounters and once estimated she'd had in excess of two hundred that she could remember and not counting the drunken one night stands she couldn't, all the while telling me that I was worthless, useless, a crap person etc.

It all came to a head in September 2005 when after months and years of such brutal torment the stress levels had reached such levels that my brain shut down for three days, I didn't know who I was, anything about myself, what I did for a job, my past anything.

I was diagnosed with P.T.S.D. Dissociative Amnesia, severe depression, social phobia and I have lost everything, my memories of my life are just shadows, the event is, as always right at the front of my eyes, she still haunts my mind and still continues to influence me inside my head, I have no respite.

Hartlepool_lad.

Recently I was at a party where many people were intoxicated, myself included. There was a lot of dancing and girls grinding on guys and groping and whatever else happens on a dance floor probably happened here. While at this party I talked to a lot of people and remember every detail I just didn't have the proper control of myself as I was heavily intoxicated. Nearing the end of the night I was approached by a boy who somehow knew me although I wasn't sure who he was. I walked away but he was insistent to talk. He pulled me closer to him and kissed me. We made out and everything was fine. Now, at this party people were staying in tents or their cars on the property and I had a tent with my friend. This guy that I was with asked me if I had a tent and I said yes, he took that as an invite and said "that beats sleeping on the floor". I wasn't 100% comfortable with him coming back with me but, I am the type that has a hard time saying no when someone says they'll be sleeping outside or whatever else. So he followed me back to my tent and I warned my friend before he came in. I was quite tired as it was very late and I was ready to go to bed but this guy was grabbing me and kissing my neck and wouldn't stop. I would push his hands away and he would tell me to "stop" or "just let it happen". Although, I continued to ask him to stop he continued until i sat up and said he needed to stop. At that point he got angry and told me that I was being a tease and i needed to "get him off" before he could go to bed. I said I just wanted to sleep and was feeling quite emotional, he was about to leave when i started to cry, as I was just yelled at when I didn't want to have sex with him. He told me it was fine and we would just cuddle and sleep. When we were back under my blanket he started at it again and i continued to tell him to stop as i still wasn't wanting to have sex with him and he started getting angry again. He was kissing me and had his hand wrapped around my neck. I was afraid of his anger as i didn't know him nor what he was capable of and i didn't want him to wake people so i complied and told him that we could have sex. About half way through i started crying and he told me if i was loud he would choke me harder so i sat there and let him do what he wanted.

I complied and told him it was okay for him to do what he did although the multiple times i said no and i felt pressured into this situation. It continues to haunt my dreams and I don't feel like myself anymore. But, was it rape...