i feel like a bag of shit. i keep looking at old pictures of myself, wondering where that pretty, skinny girl went. how she could possibly have turned into this. i can't believe i let myself go this badly.. i'm so scared to go out in public..
going to dad's today to get some percocet. i have no money for pot so at least they give me a mild buzz to make it through the days. five days til we get money. i hate the week before payday. we're always fucked. one week of happiness, one week of being broke and miserable.
hopefully things will change when i quit pot at the end of the month. we should have hundreds of dollars more each cheque..
how do sober people live? i'll soon learn.
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Saturday, November 6, 2010
que cera cera
i've been writing a lot more in a tangible diary. it fits into my purse so i just scribble in it when i'm out.
the days are creeping by, haunting me. i hear my watch ticking and it sounds like the world is ending. jason called me crazy. he said he was joking but it kinda hurt. only because i'm starting to feel crazy..
at the end of the month i'm buying a digital scale.
the women's rehab centre whose waiting list i've been on 7 months finally contacted me, i'll be having an appointment with them within the month they said. so i can finally quit smoking pot. i'll go there, then NA meetings, and hit the gym.. i need to fix me because i'm so, so broken.
the days are creeping by, haunting me. i hear my watch ticking and it sounds like the world is ending. jason called me crazy. he said he was joking but it kinda hurt. only because i'm starting to feel crazy..
at the end of the month i'm buying a digital scale.
the women's rehab centre whose waiting list i've been on 7 months finally contacted me, i'll be having an appointment with them within the month they said. so i can finally quit smoking pot. i'll go there, then NA meetings, and hit the gym.. i need to fix me because i'm so, so broken.
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