#gia2o

[gia2o]

#my photos #xanax #benzos #benzodiazepines #personal #pills #money #cash #euros #drugs #addiction #narcotics #junkytheclown #gia #gia2o #dope updates #dope #nodsquad #bars #pink

[gia1o]

This blog is officially 1 year old. My life has changed drastically since I started this blog a year ago, for the better. Am I 100% healed, no. But I have come a long, long way. Last year, I was in an extremely toxic relationship with a man I still to this day have love for. He had his demons and I had mine. To pin the blame on just one of us would be unfair. To say that I don’t still love him would be a lie. It would also be a lie to say that I don’t miss him. However, I don’t love and miss the things that came with being with him. Most of the things, anyway. Hence why we are no longer together. Since him, I have changed my phone number for separate reasons. There have been days where I have been tempted to contact him and give him my new number. I have held myself back. I no longer cry for him or feel empty without him. Without any man, at that. I have found solace in solitude. I feel good. I am closer to my family now than I have been in a long, long time. I am a lot more honest with them as well. They might not know every single detail, but they know I am still fighting off some of those demons. They no longer keep themselves blinded from my evident progress. The thing is, I’ve learned how not to avoid red flags. In not only men, but in everybody that comes my way. I have learned to not chase those that pretend to love me and so easily walk away. I have learned to not put up with abuse. These are things I always knew I should do, but never did. Now, I do. For that alone, I am proud. I have grown a lot this year and not just by age.

Now, regarding my drug use. I still smoke fentanyl. I am no longer on the needle. I don’t care who you are or what you have to say, I will pat myself on the back for that anyway. I have not injected anything since the quarantine was put into place, and even before then, it was a lot less frequent. I live in Los Angeles county, in a city near Long Beach (for those of you unfamiliar with California, Los Angeles does not just consist of Hollywood, Santa Monica and Malibu. I live in the part of Los Angeles known as, “The South Bay”). There was this stuff going around here that I had been using for over a year called “fetty”. Which is black tar heroin, heavily mixed with fentanyl. It was the only stuff that was getting me high. When the quarantine was put into place, there was an outage. The main dealer that supplied all of my dealers with that product fell off the face of the Earth. No one knows exactly what had happened to him. At this point, I knew there was no going back to heroin without fentanyl in it. I tried huff, I tried all types of tar (Mexican and Afghan), I tried. I tried. And I tried. Going back two years from today, I was also off the needle and began snorting fentanyl. That connect got put away and that’s when I found the fetty stuff and began shooting again. Fortunately, or unfortunately, I don’t really know... I found out my fentanyl dealer is out of prison and up and running again. And as time goes on, I begin to find out that everyone and their mother is on fentanyl only. It’s rare to find anyone in my area that gives two shits about plain ole heroin anymore (a sentence I never thought I’d hear myself say). Two years ago when I was on fentanyl, everyone here judged me for it. Now, all those people that judged me for snorting fentanyl are doing so bad that they might as well be shooting it into their eye balls. I never enjoyed injecting fentanyl. I was always afraid of putting in too much and dying and that fear kept me from putting in too little to enjoy it. So a few months ago I found out that I got a great high from smoking it. It was a waste to snort it and too risky to inject it. But hey, at least I’m no longer poking and prodding away at my already scarred skin for hours at a time hoping and praying and hoping some more to find a vein. I am no longer crying in frustration. I am no longer making my loved ones wait for me while I’m locked away in a bathroom, bleeding all over the place and banging my head against the wall because I can’t find a spot. And when I finally have the audacity to come out and face everyone, I can’t even look them in the eyes because I can barely keep mine open. I am well aware that I am not a saint for no longer doing this. But now... now I have reachable goals that I am actually taking steps to reach instead of keeping my fingers crossed and thinking that everything will fall into place when I’m not doing jack shit about it. I am no longer breaking my exes windows because he locked me out after a fight with all my drugs and possessions being held hostage inside his home. I am no longer running up and down the streets of his neighborhood barefoot and in nothing but a towel chasing cars to help me because we couldn’t even wait to fight until I got fully dressed after a shower. I no longer feel unnecessary guilt for going out with my friends and having a good time without his presence. I no longer have to pawn my family’s and my things for way less than they are worth for a fix. I no longer. I no longer. I no longer. Yes, I am still playing with fire, but I’m out of the flames. I can’t guarantee full recovery, but I can feel it getting better. As long as there is still fire, there is impending doom. But whether the fire goes out or not, there’s always the danger of another fire.

Hope everyone is being as safe as possible. I hope everyone is either sober or staying high. I hope all of you are happy and alive.

Xoxo, Gia

#junkytheclown #gia #drugs #heroin #dope updates #me #addiction #dark #nod squad #love #nodsquad #tweakernation #recovery #fentanyl #opiates #gia2o #writing #writers #relateable #narcotics #iv drug use #blogging #tumblr #junkies #junky #opioids #opium #strength #hope

[aslan-leviathan]

#amigurumi #pikachu #nintendo #pokemon #crochet https://www.instagram.com/p/B0TT3-gIa2o/?igshid=1lw634trjl0td

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[gia2o]

#my photos #fentanyl #opiates #nodsquad #heroin #drugs #narcotics #addiction #china white #bic #lighters #tooter #smoking fentanyl #shooting drugs #junkytheclown #gia2o #dope updates #junkie #junky #junkies

[gia2o]

#my photos #me #gia #gia2o #junkytheclown #dope updates #girls #black and white #junky #junkies #drugs #high #stoned #stoners #420 #420 friendly #personal #brunettes #black hair #long hair

[gia2o]

#my photos #me #gia #gia2o #junkytheclown #dope updates #girls #piercings

[gia2o]

When I’m sober

When I’m sober I can feel the wheels spinning beneath me as I sit in a rushing car. Every bump, every piece of gravel is so sensitively felt. It’s unpleasant.

When I’m sober every gust of wind, even the small ones unnoticeable to those around me, sets my skin, ironically, on fire. I shiver with a burning sensation under the first couple of layers of my skin.

When I’m sober, I cry. I cry and I don’t know what hurts more. The reasons I am crying about or the pain following the damp trail left behind by the wet tears. Down my cheek, soaking my shirt as my tears unite.

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[gia2o]

Disco balls and lava lamps

Home phones with a cord

Box TVs and stereos

Rubber ducks, no tears shampoo

Green grass and elmer’s glue

Pancakes every Saturday

Homework through the week

Flying kites and birthday cakes

Sunday school at church

Green grass and sunflowers

Dressing up on Halloween

Homemade costumes and candy bags

Kids on every street

Up and down on bikes they go

Same with trampolines

Slip and slides and water guns

Clear lip gloss and Barbie dolls

Legos, go fish, Lincoln logs

Monopoly and uno

Flintstones and Simpsons

Geraldo and Donahue

Scholastic news, library cards, Time magazine

Curfews, groundings, a spanking or two

Braiding hair and coloring books

The smell of crayons and sharpies too

Not all children know the joys

Of all these little things

These memories may be dear to you

They’re even dear to me

But not all children know the joys

Of all these simple things

No mom. No dad.

No holidays. No tradition.

Kids in the system.

Kids on the streets.

An injustice and no one listens.

#me #gia #gia2o #gia1o #junkytheclown #dope updates #poetry #childhood #poverty #system #truth #blogging #writing #writer #basics #kids #foster care #abuse #sad

[gia2o]

#my photos #me #gia #gia2o #junkytheclown #dope updates #dope #janky #girls #personal #long hair #black hair #brunettes

[gia2o]

#my photos #personal #gia #gia2o #junkytheclown #nature #cats #black cats #pets #animals #cute #green #school #college #california #los angeles #south bay

[gia2o]

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[gia2o]

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[gia2o]

#my photos #me #girls #brunettes #gia #gia2o #junkytheclown #dope updates #black and white #long hair

[gia2o]

#my photos #me #gia #gia2o #junkytheclown #dope updates #pink #pink aesthetic #green #tea #brisk

[gia2o]

It’s a gloomy summer still in August. Way passed “June Gloom”. I went on a walk today. One foot in front of the other. I was next to my mother. My dad and my brother, well, they weren’t home. They are pure. Unlike me and my mother. My brother goes to meet a friend to play tennis. My dad visits his friend’s dad; an old man he likes to keep company. The second they leave, believing my mother and I will make good choices, her and I watch out the window to make sure they drove off and away. Not much longer we have our walking shoes out and we are out the door. But no, we are not going out for a nice, summer walk. It’s gloomy anyway, so why not be gloomy ourselves? One end of our street has a post office, and the other side, a market. Our house is in the middle. Both places being a little over half a mile away. We head towards the market because the post office doesn’t sell booze. We wouldn’t have gone out to walk if we didn’t have a bottle to go home with as a reward. Tequila being the chosen trophy. We get to the market in a relaxed state. Ask the cashier for a bottle of tequila of which the brand name I don’t remember. My mom changes her mind, but not for the better. “Actually...”, she says. “I’ll take two and save is another trip.” We pick up a small container of ice cream and two large gatorades. The ice cream for me, and the two fruit punch gatorades for her because “she needs the electrolytes.” “What am I doing?”, I asked myself. Now I understand all those years she was watching me hurt myself and chose to enable me because she didn’t would rather me stay close and unhurt than to stop me and risk me shunning her. I kept my mouth shut, and wrongfully so. I need to learn how to say “no”. We go to pay. The cashier asks us if we need a bag. My mother declines and takes her designer backpack off and stuffs all of our “treats” into it. Nothing but her wallet and our mandatory masks were in there prior. She is too weak to carry this backpack now, so before she even tries to put it on her back, I put it on mine. She asked me if it was heavy. I told her no. I lied. We walk back home and now she’s in more of a hurry. Paranoid my dad or brother might beat us home, even though we logically knew that they both would be gone for hours. I now see behaviors in her that I saw in myself before. The mind of a paranoid addict is enough to drive a person mad. We get home, and as I knew, no one was there. As I knew, no one got home until hours after. I take the bottles and pour my mother a single drink and hide the bottles. She did not like this. I did not care. She felt betrayed. I did not care. The reality of her bad health and my no good enabling slapped me across the face. I explained to her why I decided to do this and that if she has a problem with it, I will have no choice but to tell my dad and brother about our little adventure. She did not like that. I did not care. She felt betrayed. I did not care. I told her I loved her too much to let her to destroy herself to death. She understood, thanked me, and gave me a hug. When the boys got home, we told them we went for a walk. They asked where we went. “To the post office and back”, I said.

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[gia2o]

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