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Name: RachMar Location: Durham, North Carolina, United States Gender: Female
Interests: pretty pictures, sad music, reading while eating. Expertise: minesweeper, children (?) Occupation: hostess/babysitter/student/bum
Message: message me AIM: faithinthegasman
Member Since:
2/5/2005
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| I'm gonna get him out, I'm so fucking pumped to make this thousand -- hypomanic, systematic, funky fresh. I'm dirty and greasy and oh-i-don't-care, whatever, okay. Only five raviolis was a disapointment.
I'm a disappointment.
His birthday is this Wednesday, and goddamn it I'll make the goddamn thousand it's gonna take to get him out.
Hope it's not more than that, Jesus.
I really want to sleep, but I feel so awake and my head keeps going "come one, just stay up til morning, it won't hurt, you'll be so productive!" but I know what a lie is; half of what that motherfucker utters is total bullshit, gotta tune it out...
Hey, wanna buy shit from me? I've got cool shit you can buy, a sewing machine, a Bose SoundDock...it's for a good cause.
I'm everywhere and nowhere and so very alone -- numb to it all. I've lost myself and I'd like to be reattached, if you please.
I love you and I miss you and I feel this horrible disconnect, this is so goddamn hard. I know it sucks on the inside, but it sucks on the outside too, in a different way that I don't think you quite grasp.
I'm getting you out.
I hate being the only one who WANTS to get him out, but the only one who doesn't have the financial means to do it.
Is it really that easy to make a thou, or is this hypomanic lies?
I MISS BEING MEDICATED OH MY GODDDDDDD THIS ROLLER-COASTER IS ABSOLUTELY EXHAUSTING.
talk to me, if you can stand it.
That's all.
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| Matt broke up with me about a week ago. He was "in love" with some other girl. Makes me wonder if he ever really loved me. I tried being friends with him, but I really have nothing but hateful words and tears to give, so I told him today that we needed to stop talking for a while. He objected, and is still talking to me, but I really think ignoring him, trying not to think about him is the best thing I can do right now.
I'm really miserable, just wanna be over him.
Last week I binged like anything. Cleaned out my bank account entirely--that's $350 dollars all sucked up by my veins. I overdrafted my account by four cents, and now I have probably a hundred dollars in fines in the account. I love my life.
I wish he still loved me...I'd give anything.
I miss Eric.
Fuccccck this.
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| Last night, laying in bed, it hit me: I'm gonna die someday. No more Rachel. And the world's gonna keep going without me. My body will be empty--soulless--and slowly or fast, I will be forgotten.
I cried.
In other news, I think I'm regressing. I'm afraid of the dark. I can't sleep with the lights off, or walk down a dark hallway. I just imagine someone grabbing me and killing me, I get this panicky-scared feeling in the pit of my stomach. I don't know what the fuck's wrong with me. Too much Law & Order?
I NEED SOMETHING TO DO WITH MY LIFE, I'M GOING FUCKING CRAZY.
At least life was interesting as a heroin addict. Now I just eat, sleep, and watch T.V. This is killing me inside.
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| I couldn't make it in the city. Well, in the esteemed opinion of the counseling department at NYU, at least. Spent two miserable weeks there.
Miserable cause I hated my roommates. Self righteous, closed minded, fake smiling bitches. And they were BEST FRIENDS, that was the worst of it. Being in the same room with them was a lonely experience. I felt invisible. I was invisible.
Miserable cause I'm a dope fiend, and that's a pretty miserable existence, in case you've never been one. I don't know how I let myself sink so low. It felt like the only way out was further down, unconscious, death. Anything to escape that pain.
Miserable cause I'm incredibly shy, though it's so easy to forget that when I'm at home surrounded by friends. I always forget how hard it is to come across people who, for one, I actually want to be around, and for another, want to be around me. And even then it's hard: I'm so awkward and anxious that I'll convince myself that people don't like me, don't want me around, that I'm making a fool of myself...I almost don't wanna make the effort to make new friends. No, there's not even an almost. I don't wanna make the effort to make new friends, period. I wanna keep Catherine for the rest of my life because there is no one like her. She's like...my soul mate, and maybe that sounds creepy, but it's not, I promise. No one on earth understands me like she does. It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
Now I'm back in Durham and the misery has been replaced with pure, undiluted boredom. Everything's fine, I guess. I'm pushing dope out of my life. I'm on Suboxone now. So grateful for that. And today I found out that I'm H.I.V. negative. I've never been more relieved. Even though there was such a small chance that I had it...I don't know. I mean, H.I.V., that's some serious shit. God I sound dumb. I just can't express it any other way. It's bloody serious! And I'm free.
But I'm bored. All I've been doing with my time lately is surf the 'net and watch Law & Order: SVU. That's a good show. But a good show is no substitute for a life. I wish I had something to do. A job or something. Been filling out applications. I hope I actually land something soon, I'm going crazy in here.
Every loser in Durham is trying to fuck me today. I don't get it. Just a coincidence, I guess.
Entertain me, damnit.
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| ...at me, not sleeping again. I'm too sad, dunno why I'm so sad tonight. Oh, it's B. Didn't talk to me, I don't know why, I think he still likes me but you can never be sure and here I am and my mood's so reliant on another fucker who can make mistakes and not be solid and reliable all the time like I want him to be...or maybe it's just an excuse to be sad, or maybe it doesn't matter because either way I feel like the saddest little girl in the world.
And what's the point in sleeping? I can't do it, don't feel like trying when it's so much easier to roll through the morning and rise in a couple of hours and pretend I slept through the night like I should have so my dad can't scroll through the symptoms of dope sickness and find it, "DING! INSOMNIA!" and I don't have anything to make myself well either, I took all the subs I had, got dope cottons, but I wanted to save those til I had enough....
...I need a suboxone script.
The other night when I still had that half gram on me I tried reading Junky, but I couldn't, not without shooting up, so I shot up and read some more, and it was pathetic because I can't even do something as simple as reading without it in my system.
I wish I wish I wish I didn't have to work tonight, I'm going to feel so awful and look so awful because I just don't think there's a possibility of me sleeping tonight....
At least I've got a hundred and thirty dollars in the bank and SOMEONE must have subs...
I feel better after writing this, weird?
Let's fast-forward, please, please, please? I don't want to deal with the whole sunrise-alone-sleepless deal.
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