junkieby-grace-blog - Tumblr blog

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Put more love into the universe

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Welcome to, Hell.

Being enslaved to heroin for the past ten years, has put me into some fucked off situations... I've sold my body for money, to support my heroin habit; webcammed; pimped out, insecure, easily influential high school girls, including, some that I looked as my younger sisters... I've stolen people's valuables, in the past 10 years, I've stolen a little over 2 million dollars from my father's company- most recently, it got so bad, my father's department laid off over 56 employees because the company was suddenly going broke... I've turned into a money hungry, selfish, greedy, dope-fiending, junkie; I've turned into a cheater... I have never been one to cheat, ever... I love my husband so much! He's the love of my life, my rock and foundation. I've never, in my life, ever allowed someone to make me convince myself that I needed to second guess my relationship/marriage...unless dope has ever been involved. My husband is a strong man, and isn't one to cry, but breaks down when he hears me start to second guess his love for me; he tries very hard to help me calm down, and reminds me of his love for me...but the drugs have consumed my thought process, and we both know that the reassurance through the phone that the prison system allows him a half an hour to catch up with me. Both of our tones drop, he now sounds sad, and as the shot finally hits my pleasure system, I try to pretend like I care. The phone call, ends abruptly, with a short, and monotone "I miss you. I love you. goodnight baby" *click*. My heart drops, and my stomach churns; the euphoric feeling I felt 5 seconds before, is now gone as if it was ever actually there... I feel the need to get higher, and to try to numb the ache in my heart, from his absence by my side. Everyone, makes efforts to cheer me up, as does the guy who's hurt that I dont want him the way that he wants me; I numb the pain just a little more, and become more apathetic than before, and lead this poor sucker into the bedroom, and if it feels right, I allow him the pleasure of banging the shit out of me. By the time, I'm committed to sobering up, I have a million more messes to clean up, and staying clean, becomes last on my list of priorities. As I push the last, tiny, drops of my dose, into my vein, my head throws back, and my eyes roll up, in my eye sockets; my heart rate slows down, almost instantly, and the drugs rush to my head, making my entire body heavy and limp. My hearing and vision come and go for a few minutes...my breathing staggers, and my chest is heavy. I try to stand, and my legs give way, and I feel myself start to fall; i catch myself on the sink, and splash cold water on my face... I know he's waiting for me, in the room next door, so I pull myself together, enough to get myself from the bathroom, to the bedroom, and give him complete control over my body; still such a scary thought and idea, at that point in time. He hoists his giant body, on top of mine, to show his dominance over me; this was the first time I was having sex, since Dustin did what he did; My nerves were already high strung, and now they were on the highest alert. I was terrified of being hurt again, and I refused to have anyone degrade me the way that they did.... EVER again..

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96 and counting (pt.2)

I tried so hard to hold on, but white knuckling only works for so long. 140 hours, and I fucking held on; one impulsive decision later, I'm heating up the spoon, dropping my cotton in the middle. Sucking every last drop up into this plastic device; searching for the prize vein, that's gonna take in all the gold... Another fucked off night bringing me nothing but more bad luck, and disappointment, about to vanish into thin air, with one poke to my skin. Of course, i pushed the needle in once there was blood in the syringe; of course, i ignored every thought, or voice telling me to take it out of my arm...of course, I ignored the better half of me begging me not to do this to myself again, and not to take this road. Of course I got high. And of course, it didn't stop there...how could it? A week later, and my doses have increased, I went from one shot a day, to one every hour...All the plans made with my husband for our family when he gets home, seemed like nothing but the most distant dream... All I suddenly cared about, was who had heroin, who had money if I didn't and how I could make their money, mine, to acquire more heroin to feed the demon occupying my insides.

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04/20/2015-final goodbye

04/19/2015 9:56pm

I saw your tweet, and with everything i was putting myself through, when it came to the beyond fucked up love triangle, sav, eli and i were entertaining, the lyrics you had tweeted, were relatable as fuck. I remember you immediately, calling my phone, not even 2 minutes after I favorited and retweeted your shit; We exchanged awkward, small talk for a bit, before, we remembered that, our friendship has always been so much more than the bullshit ‘how’ve ya been’? ice breakers, and lots of awkward silences; When you tell me, that you’re doing shitty, and you just needed someone to talk to, I encourage you to spill your guts… and so, the long explanation begins, and I can hear your heart breaking more and more, as you go into detail, about the games that Sarah is playing, and how much you want to hate her, but you can’t…. I empathize, and you ask me about my situation, and I laugh, scoff, and just try my best to brush it off, but you hear the crack in my voice, and you know you can’t just let me avoid it, as you start to bring it up in our conversation. I bitch for awhile, about how unfair it is, and ask you over and over again, why I wasn’t good enough, till my eyes are filled with tears, and my emotions take complete control, and I’m a incomprehensible mess, and you let me sob it out, and we agree to go to see the second avengers, the upcoming Saturday… for a few more hours, we talked, and the talk wasn’t as sad anymore, and there were more laughs and fucked up jokes about the situations we’d found ourselves in when it came to love, and just trying to mask our pain…

04/20/2015 1:06am …our yawning is contagious, and we both decide it’s time for bed; our alarms will ring early, and we’ll have to force ourselves to get up and be apart of society, even though, we don’t want to… you say goodnight, as do I, but right before I hang up…. I ask you one question: “Bobby, are you sure you’re alright..? You’re not going to hurt yourself are you..?” For whatever reason, I felt like I needed to say those words to you, and you said “kenz. I would never do that… goodnight. I’ll call you in the morning. And I’ll see you Saturday..”

….. 'I would never do that…’

….'I’ll call you in the morning, and I’ll see you Saturday….’

04/20/2015 3:17am you’d stolen your father’s shotgun, the one he always used when your family would take me hunting, and you drove your truck to Sarah’s house…she’d messaged you, playing games again… but instead of going home; you let the pain of her games, bring you to your knees, and give you the courage to put a bullet in your head…. on her front lawn. Your heartache was so blinding, that you forgot to see the bigger picture: life beyond high school/Sarah. Just two hours after we hung up on the phone, you’re on her front lawn, bleeding out everywhere, with a bullet in between your eyes…. with a note in your hand, covered in your own blood, telling everyone how sorry you are… but that you’re so much better now…. I still haven’t seen avengers 2, and to this day, I refuse to…. I’m distant from your grave, but know my love for you is still as big as the universe itself.. I wish you’d seen how worth it, you truly are…

03/20/2019 one month away, from your 4 year anniversary, and I miss you the same way I did that day I found out you had died…. I used to re read our texts, and call your phone to listen to your voicemail, but now. I just remember all the fun we had… like I said, I wish we’d had more time… because we could’ve set the world on fire… but instead you let the world swallow you up, in its hateful, heartbreaking flames.. I miss you.💔

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03.11.19

Today, telling myself that I would kill myself tomorrow, didn't work. Today, trying to convince myself that I was nowhere close enough to "worth it", and that the people who loved me would get through the news of me being gone; their lives would carry on without me eventually... Sav would find a better best friend, and Tj would find a new roommate ; Dan and Anthony would hang out with other people who smoke bud and just chill and listen to the music that made the 'cool' kids label us as 'emo' or "wrist slashers".. Colton would grow up in the care of my parents, like he already is; and Adam...

Well, I'm not sure what Adam would do... he claims, he'd go off the deep end; but... would he actually..? Things like such are so easy to say...but lots of times, its unfortunately, an exaggerated statement. Its not that people don't care, but they know life goes on and death, demons, struggles, and although it broke their hearts, life doesn't stop for the rest of the world when my heart beats its last. Realistically, he'll be upset forba really long time, may relapse, and recluse again, find recovery again over time, meet a girl who makes him smile because he sees me in her eyes; and they'll fall in love, and end up getting married and having children... they'll grow old together... they will accomplish every goal, and do everything that we didn't get to do... Eventually, everyone would move on and continue to contribute to society. And I'd just be the memory they envision, sitting in the same spot that all of our friends and us went to and sat at every Friday night. You'll hear that laugh whenever you sit in your spot, and look across from, I'll always sit there.. but instead you heard him cry, and beg you to value your life just a little bit more, the way that he values it.. he begged me to love myself, the way you did, for just the few seconds it would take to shove my fingers down my throat, and make myself throw back up the pills I'd taken; he begged me to love myself through his eyes for just 5 minutes. But, 5 minutes was far too much to ask, and it was already too little too late, by the time my phone rang, and his caller ID lit up the screen; he heard me vomit every pill back up, and into the sink, toilet or the floor- wherever I ended up making it to, first... Today, telling myself that tomorrow I would kill myself, did not work the way it has, every other day before today. There was something about today, that overwhelmed my heart, and crowded my stomach, causing a knot to ball up in my throat, making it feel hard to breathe... today, it was impossible to see a silver lining; today, it was impossible for me to convince myself that I was worthy of living.

But, my roommates saved the day, per usual. And I was well taken care of; my father was told of my nearly fatal suicide attempt, and I believe this is when everyone realized how much I truly needed help... my secret was out, that I was not as strong as I appeared to be; in fact, I was a lot weaker than I was hoping they would know. I know you interfered where you probably wished I could have, or anyone for that matter... trust me, I felt your broken heart, when I was laying on the bathroom floor, trying so goddamn hard to not throw up all the pills I'd just consumed. I knew, you were done watching me try to kill myself. I knew you were putting an end to heroin, and my toxic behaviors, once and for all. I knew you were done; and I was ashamed of the look you gave me, when I closed my eyes to sleep that night.

It was almost the last time I was alive. Those, were almost my last moments... and you did what you do, and made sure that, I would see many other days, if not one more.

Thank you... Bobby, thank you... I still love you, and appreciate you. Even after all these years... as your birthday, fast approaches, I miss you even more, and find it necessary to visit you, all the way out in Blue Ridge; and I'll steal a sunflower from your tombstone, like I always do, and pour a beer out in your honor. And I'll try my best to hold back tears, because I dont like to cry, but eventually I'll break down, begging you to come back, and stay for just one more fucking day; one more hug, one more camping trip, one more joke, one more everything.... I just wish we'd had more time, but life got busy, we got older, and suddenly school and bullshit became most important. For me, it was heroin, and for that I am sorry. I wish I'd given you more time with me not dopesick; or angry, or high... I wish, that you could see me today... it's still a battle, i won't lie, but i actually try to fight. Maybe that's why, you intervened and those pills found themselves in the toilet, rather than poisoning my insides, killing me slowly. Maybe that's why, i was saved... because you see who i am today, and it looks more and more like the best friend you used to know... anyways, happy birthday fucker. Your headstone, isn't your face, but i guess until it's my time to go, it's going to have to do... love always, kenz.

Fly high, you prick. 03/24/1998-04/20/2015

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To my beautiful, Blue-Eyes

I'm so sorry for all the petty fights we had; they weren't worth all nights we were too angry to say 'I love you' before hanging up on one another. All the name-calling and insulting I did, while I was hurting, and I missed you too much to call you babe and I was on the verge of losing it; I'm sorry lots of people, treated my heart like it was just a piece of paper, and they were so quick to ruin it and throw it all away... every note, and lyric, doodle and love poem written upon it, thrown into the abyss of garbage awaiting the company of this tragic, battered piece of paper. I'm sorry that I told you that I didnt have to explain things to you, as if, you being in prison made you any less of half in this relationship; it doesn't. Your opinions always mattered, and whether it's over a phone, written in a letter somewhere in a paragraph, or you say it as we go to sleep, and your lips are whispering sweet, never ending good nights, in my ear 2 inches away from me. Those moments, mean so much more to me than I ever told you they did; I was more focused on protecting my heart from getting pummeled, rather than embracing a love I knee I'd never experience again, had you ever decided that I wasnt worth all the trouble, someday in the future: near or far.

Darling, my deepest apologies for treating you as less than me, and holding resentments against you knowing you were sick; it wasnt fair of me to expect forgiveness to the fullest extent, and not reciprocate it back... I'm a damaged human, and things are hard to do, no matter how much I want to do them, like forgiveness for instance... I'm sorry for reminding you that you aren't ever here when i need you most; I'm sorry that I make you feel inadequate, and like the worst husband ever... your love means everything to me, and even after you move on from me, and start a life with someone new, I'll still feel that same exact way, and I'll miss your love from afar, but pray to the gods above that you are loved by someone who could do a far better job than I did, loving you. I used to believe no one could love you more than me, until it was apparent that maybe my love wasnt what you needed from the jump; that thought scares the hell out of me, but jesus Christ I beg to God that you needed me the way I need you...even if it was only for a small moment in time; I'll always miss you... I hope you know that. Please know, that I love you more than the sun loves the moon, and my stars shine bright as day and only for you and you're the only one in my universe, and you will be forever. I truly meant the words I vowed to you, so long before we said them at church... so long before we even got the chance... in case you're reading this, dont cry for my absence. I'll be with you for the rest of your life, watching you live and grow into the man you are supposed to be and I'm so very proud of you my darling... please do not cry, or feel alone, for I am always with you. Someone will love you, the way you truly needed, and be more for you than I ever could imagine to be.. Lastly, I'm sorry that I didnt make it to our wedding day, or to even see you make it home. I'd like to say I put up a good fight, but I gave in so easily and I was exhausted... it was selfish, and impulsive but it was the best choice I ever made for the both of us.. you deserved a chance to live; to love, and be loved; to experience happiness in its rawest forms... and I'm sorry I wasnt right next to you, when all the best memories you have were made, and I'm sorry you had to say goodbye, long after I was already put of this world... watching you cry for so long, I knew would kill me, but I had to save your life from the demon that occupied mine... I wouldnt change it if I had to go back...

You may not ever understand how any of this is out of love, just know I loved you enough, to figure out how to keep you living regardless of if I was present or not; this was the better option... I'm proud of you. And am so happy for the life, I've watched you make for yourself... just know I always hear your 'i love yous' and i hear you end the petty fight first, now so, you never miss that i love you when you say goodnight. I saw you learned.

Thank you.

Forever and always,

Your ghost wife xoxo

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03.08.19

Arguing with you kills me; because we've never fought before. I'm tired of you not being here, and yet we still find shit to argue about. You dont see how fucking hard I try and work and hustle just to take care of you while you're fuckn gone. And I'm not sure you even fucking notice or care at this point...whatever. I guess I'll try to pretend I don't feel the distance between us getting bigger and your patience growing shorter. I dont want to lose you but I feel I already have. I knew everything you wrote on those thousands of pages was too good to be true. Just know my heart will always belong to you even after you're long gone and you've moved on just like I said you would... it's okay. My heart will always beat and I'll learn to live without you all over again.

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03.08.2019

Today, I remember everything, about the night that changed my life... and today, I hate myself and everything even more than usual. Today, its difficult to move past it... today, more than usual, I feel like dying. Today, I wish more than other days, that I didnt make it. I'm not sure how to be okay again... I'm not sure how to get off heroin... I'm not sure of anything, anymore...

Someone, please just...kill me. I don't want to live with this weight. I've been with my best friend of eternity, all fucking night...and she's concerned, I can tell... but, i pretend to not be bothered. Shes back to the girl i knew before the drugs, and shes wondering where the fuck i am; she sees a body that doesnt even resemble the girl she once knew anymore, and she cant see the me she used to see in my eyes, tonight. I'm blinded and clouded, by the spell heroin has put me in. Breakdown, number one, starts in the car with some emotional songs as the sickness sets in, and my body begins to hurt and tremble... it's unfair. I didn't want all of this... I miss myself...and the life I thought to be so goddamn "boring" and literally walked away from.. it's not fair, what this disease in my brain, puts me through. I don't understand why I do the shit that I do...and that bugs me the most.

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"I will kill myself tomorrow... not today, but tomorrow is the day. I will make it through today, but tomorrow is the day..."

-things I tell myself to make it to see another day.. 03.08.2019 8:33am

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Shoot life away..

03.08.19

I'm nowhere near happy... I'm more than miserable. Miserable is an understatement; I have started to miss the quiet suburban life as a mother and a wife... I miss my sleep, and I miss waking up, and not being in pain, or sick to my fucking stomach... or, having seizures every other day, due to the damage done to my brain from the sudden spike, in my drug use; I'm miserable. I havent been living for months... I'm not even sure that I'm surviving anymore, either; I think I'm existing... getting from day to day, barely making it... unaware of who I even fucking am anymore... desperate for someone...anyone...to pull my ass out of this fucked up cycle that I cant seem to put the fuck down, even though I don't want this for myself anymore... I miss the love I had for myself, when I was clean. I miss my husband...and the family we created together; the opportunities people gave us in sobriety... I miss my life that seemed so boring and plain... looking back, it's what I was supposed to do with my life. It was my purpose... I've never been so surrounded by people, and felt so alone at all fucking times... I want to die. I hurt myself today, to see if I still feel and I don't...I dont know what's scarier... I'm completely and utterly numb... I guess after all these years, I finally accomplished what I'd been trying to achieve: 100% numb. But I'm lifeless now... that's not what I wanted. I guess, I shot away my life with heroin... and I'm scared it's too fucking late... it's too fucking late for me.. i know my emotional spirit is lifeless, and my physical isnt too far off either... I'm gonna die a using addict... i wasnt prepared for this to be my reality. I've made a big ass fucking mess... and i cant even clean it up it's so beyond me, now...beyond my control. I dont want to die... someone... anyone? Please fucking save me from myself...

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Q

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03.03.2019

Today, is the first in a very long time, I've allowed the dopesickness to take full effect. I slept for two days straight, it's almost time for me to go back to work, until my phone buzzes with a text saying 'due to weather, no work tomorrow' I sigh in relief; it's been hours, and I'm still sick... I can't keep fucking doing this... I howl a tiny bit, as my bones crack all throughout my body, causing my stomach to churn, and my head to go fuzzy. I look at pictures and previous posts, I miss my husband. But this heroin, has gotten me into messes I cant seem to get out of... fuck. The hunt begins and whomever can find it, will be my prince charming for the next 24 hours... fuck.

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“And once the storm is over, you won’t remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. you won’t even be sure, whether the storm is really over. but one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm, you won’t be the same person who walked in. That’s what this storm’s all about.”

—

haruki murakami, kafka on the shore

it makes you stronger than ever

(via astound)

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Miserable at Best

02.16.19 12:41am

I've hesitantly put down the needle, now to work on the heroin. As I prepare my line, to snort, just so I can function, I whisper to my best friend, TJ, that I fucking hate heroin... he said he did too, because of what hes seen it do to me. Getting off heroin, is harder than people who do other drugs, actually think. Because, it's not a choice... I passed that point a long ass time ago. I have no choice anymore.. And I had no choice when he invited us and after my rejection I could get high for free; every addict's life story. I never expected to go through the things that I went through, the things I shouldn't have had to endure. After all of this, I had no faith that I would come back from this somehow.. I was confused, in pain, and locked up with fear. When his eyes met mine as my vision blurred, I could hear Twiztid give me the advice a couple months ago; "don't ever come here by yourself" everything got blurred, and I was spinning. I felt my heartbeat slow, and then stop; that's when I hit the hardwood floor, seizing out and trying to catch my breath and stay as calm as I could. 10 years of heroin use, and a million overdoses and almost ends, and I knew that this was it this time.... I knew I was face to face with death and I was actually scared. All the beat moments of my life played over in my head, and I could feel a tear trying to form in my eye, but nothing came out. No one wanted to help. I didnt want to shoot up. And, in that moment, I just wanted to go home. I'd never wanted to be at home more in my life, than in that moment. I was scared. I'm still scared... but... I don't think I have that right. I went there to use. I went there to get drugs. I chose not to call someone I trusted... I chose this. Before I knew it, my pants were being pulled off by some strange boy I didnt know anything about, in the room where Brian and I used to chill with his homeboy, but this was not the familiar face I hoped it'd be. I'd met him once before, and Brian warned me not to be here.. He could tell this guy was nothing but trash, and my heroin addiction was how he was going to bait me in. And I failed that test fast, and impulsively just so I didnt have to worry about my next hit. See withdrawals terrified me more than death, but the truth is I don't think I'd ever been so close to dying before in my life. I felt fire on my skin and tried to scream for help, but...no sound ever came out. I tried to move. I tried to get up and run, but my body was so heavy and stiff, all I could do was lay there defenseless. I don't remember much after that... but I know it hurt, I know it burned, and I know I was praying to God that I would die. I closed my eyes to try and be anywhere else but where I was, but absolutely nothing was taking me out of this. My body was already dead, and my organs were shutting down, I was freezing and then hot again off and on for what felt like years when in reality, it was only seconds apart. And then everything was dark and quiet; I couldn't feel my heartbeat or even hear it, I was not in that house anymore, It was finally over. And no one knew where I was... I woke up hours later to a practically empty house. My body was still numb, and my emotions were even number. I hadn't remembered what had happened yet, and then it hit me all at once; I wasn't safe. I needed to get out of here. I was a person before this, now what the fuck am I? I'm a mother! I'm a daughter. I'm a wife a friend, goddamnit! I'm important to other people!!! So why would they pick me? I just don't understand why it had to be me...

The next day was spent in a blinding shock... I was twitchy, I was nervous, I was scared, and i didnt want to be touched... the flashbacks sent me into hyperventilation, and pure fear consumed every single fiber in my body. I was bruised, in pain, and also in withdrawal; And worst of all, I was still alive. I didnt know why... all I knew was that I no longer have the will to want to live. Trauma changes you... and for the rest of my life I'm convinced it will never be "I'm doing great!" Or "I'm doing okay/fine"... I think I'm stuck with being "miserable at best".