Monday, 1 October 2007

My 20th Birthday

Its my 20th birthday today. October 1st 1987. Its also my best friend Tom Bs birthday. I still say best friend even though I haven’t seen him in ages, but since secondary school, which was St Bedes, we were great friends. There were four of us; me and him, my best friend Helen who I have known since I was 7 (our mums are best friends, so are our sisters) and Joe Minervino. Our birthdays all fell within one week of each others, and in me and Toms case, on the same day- same time, same hospital, same year. We were never apart. Joe killed himself not long after his 18th birthday, which we never expected and devestated everyone that knew him. Helen… I don’t see her much anymore. She is 5 months pregnant, an alcoholic who is being given a couple of years to live. Everyone knew at school us 3 would turn out as wasters, end up dying… but not Joe. The injustice…. he is the one gone.
I have been depressed all weekend. When I woke up this morning I had nothing but one card and it served to make me feel even worse than I did. Birthdays are for celebrating the birth of someone special. All I have been doing recently is destroying my family and friends… I’ve been doing them no favours. My nanna is 81, and up until recently worked full time, was full of life, vivacious. Now, if she calls and I miss it a couple of times, the next time I answer and its her, I am greeted by hysterical crying because she has been racking her brains about the possibilities as to why I am not picking up, and she assumes the worse, that I am dead. Its horrible to see how I have, and am, ruining such a wonderful lady. She has stuck by me while I have had this ‘problem’ much more than my own Mum or anyone else. And I fear as if she will soon be gone. She has started to give up, and I know it. And I still don’t do anything about it. It’s.Not.Enough.
This morning I had 3 20bags of brown and 2 20bags of white. Now waiting for me at home (I’m at my nans with my twin nieces, who are 5, my sister, mum, nan, grandad) is 3 brown and a white. I’ve been doing far too much white recently. And I’ve just recovered from the worse abcess ever. When it burst, I cannot describe the amount of stuff that came out of it, and for 2 weeks I had 2 gaping holes in my arm, you could see right in. I have killed my veins so I can’t get anything. So I’m missing hits of light and dark (snowballs) all the time. In my experiences, misses that contain crack with brown are so much worse. I’m due about 5 in the next month I’m sure. I’d be rushing home if I could get a hit easily, but I’m losing so many I don’t need to get excited about it.
Everybody I meet is telling me I’m so thin, I’ve lost so much weight. I’m used to being curvy, 10-11stone usually. Now I am 9 stone, so even though I haven’t noticed my family have and all my friends. I’m constantly getting put down. They tell me I suite being curvy better. I used to have bad problems with overeating and purging. Now I don’t have the appetite for anything. I go days without eating. The only calories I get are from special brew. I have noticed things I took for granted; the things your body does, like heal itself are no longer present. Cuts I make in myself take ages to heal and they nearly always 99.9% of the time get infected and I need antibiotics. I am run down, big time.
There is a cake, loads of more food…. I’m expected to stand around all cheerfully with my Mum singing happy birthday at me when today I met her she sent me a text message saying “You look like an absolute tramp. You are so skinny and you look like a hobo. You don’t have that sparkle anymore. You are nothing nowadays” She has been calling me these types of things for ages. Doesn’t she realise the more she says that the more depressed I get? Not blaming her or anything, but it doesn’t help.
I will write more tomorrow hopefully. There is so much to note. Things have been nuts recently but since my family are about (even though they read this journal) I don’t want them to see. I can handle them reading it tomorrow, or the next day etc. but I just want an easy day. My 20th birthday has been horrible. I just wanted to hang myself. I really can’t stand this anymore. My habit is at least £100 a day and I can’t fund it anymore. I can’t cope with the alcohol either. I want to wake up and not be physically dependant on anything. But instead, I wake up to ice cold beers I have set my alarm at 5am to get up for, so I can place them by my bed for when I wake up at 8am. Then I inject a big fat hit of heroin and crack. Then its to finding a way to get money to get more drugs. Please. I’ve had enough.