❤️ 04th June 2015 - Journal

Bought new clothes. As I tried them on I heard 'I've gotta watch her she's a junkie'. Just left changing room door open. 

Again in the toilet.

Banged up in wooded waste land.

Tried to speak to The Sun and although I was telling them a member of the Met Police broke the law, they seemed weird. Told me to go hospital. Something not right here.

Found Internet cafe where my brother could spy on me. Makes me so sad. Dunno if he was speaking fluent Spanish. If so well done fat cunt!

Honest I'm surprised.

Got on bus and got talking to Junkette. Well one saw me go to my bag and said in Punjab or similar 'she's banging up'. I replied I was getting my phone. I got the head phones and pretended to talk. Saying out loud what my parents where doing and that it was legal Ritalin. This enabled me to engage with one.

After hearing the truth he felt sorry. I asked

'Why am I famous'

'You were in The Sun'

Wham! Everything fell into place.

Got hostel in Brixton where Junkette was waiting to make sure I didn't bang up.

Crying in tears I tried to find a pay phone to call home. 4 ate my money but didn't work. As I walked the street I told people it wasn't true and more confirmed. A picture of me smoking crack taken by my  bestie. 

My mother still lied. I cannot believe they have ruined my life. And lied. Suppose

'GIRL WITH ADHD USES LEGAL RITALIN' doesn't evoke as much hatred as dirty crack junkie. This is why The Sun seemed weird on the phone. 

This must have been January, possibly when I was in hospital as my LinkedIn profile got more views than an MP.

Not only have they destroyed my house, car, possessions, killed my rabbit, had me sectioned, but now I know why everyone is on track mark watch.

They control my internet so I can't find the article either. I knew people wouldn't lie for them forever.

Either they tell the truth or, if I fight for it, when I win, there is no family. 

They prevent me calling The Mirror, why? The truth WILL come out. 

All they have done is make me use more drugs. They could have paid for ADHD doc, got me concerta, paid for detox and rehab. 

That's all I want my Ritalin. I can't get it until detox is booked. My drugs team are full of excuses as to why it's not being booked.

I want to go. I want my meds. I'd be willing to do daily drugs tests for concerta. I'm heart broken.

My career in education, over.

Everyone is pushing for me to fail. Not one person will help me. I need help. I can't do this alone. I'm scared, weary and running out of fight.

Before I met people and then they decided whether I was nice or not.

Now they all hate me and I have to prove I'm nice.

I wanted a quiet life. Rescue chickens, growing vegetables, peace, being anonymous.

I can never forgive them for taking that from me.

Along with the sick things they've done, they're up there with Fred and Rose West for sickest parents. I'd rather physical abuse. It lasts 20 minutes and it's over. My abuse it 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.

I'm trying to fight for help and the truth. Otherwise I'm heading for suicide.

I can't fight the whole of the UK.

I'm so devastated. Not only have my whole family ganged up on me, tortured me, destroyed my life, but lied to the national press.

I will never pretend this is in my head. If they want me in their life the truth is imperative.

Death has never seen more appealing.

Junkie Jay (not my real name but I will change it by de-poll)