❤️ Dear Mum - 2015

This was in one of my books which was written in the event of my death. And this is a letter, I wrote to my mum... when I still had love for her, and hope this would be over.....

Dear Mum

Why mum? Why did you let them do this to me? When did your maternal instinct for me die? 

I will never experience that now. Being a mother. But I have a deep love for Orion and I would never do anything to hurt him. I’d kill anyone who did. That’s why I can’t understand this. 

I’m so sorry. Sorry I let you down. Sorry I’m such a disappointment. I’m sorry I’m not worth saving. I’m gone now. You finally have your perfect family.

I did want to try to cope. I was going to try auditing as a danger. But I needed to self medicate to have the strength to do that. We both know that’s not happening. 

I always preferred it when it you was on duty. I wouldn’t be tormented so badly. Fat Cunt, Sir Cunt A Lot and Nice But Dim could be so cruel. 

I would hear you cry. I know you would be hearing me cry too. Why didn’t you come for me mum? I though that was what you were supposed to do.

I can’t take this anymore. I hurt so bad. And when. I do see you and dad, you’re like strangers to me. Why do you lie to me? Why do you hurt me?

Like dad you were perfect until 2015. Couldn’t have asked for a better mum. I’m really proud I can cook, bake, sew all thanks to you.

I’m not meant for this life though. I’m not normal.

I know you’re gonna watch me take the pills. I know you won’t do anything. Please don’t watch me die.

I miss how things used to be. But it’ll never be the same again. 

I miss the theatre, shopping and going out. But you have Nice But Dim so I know any void created by me, can be filled.

So, I’m sorry. I’m with nan P and nan S now. And all my pets.

And finally, I’ll have the truth.

I loved you mum.

I just can’t take this anymore.

J

❤️ 10th April 2008 - Boyfriend Dramas

Today my heart has been destroyed. Today W***** dumped me. Life doesn’t feel like it’s worth living anymore. And to make matters worse, it’s over fucking Facebook.

I was playing an game called ‘Owned’. I was buying all my friends I could afford. I bought my ex T*****.

At 11.12am I get a text from R** saying ‘you clearly (want) T***** more than I thought. Even after that chat we had yesterday he is the first you buy (which he wasn’t). You might as well call him if you haven’t already. He will probably take you back. That’s clearly what you want. As for me, I’m fed up of hearing his name. I’m done’

I call him and at first he’s cold and emotionless. I’m crying and he doesn’t care. I can’t believe this is my loving, caring guy. He tells me it’s over, ignores my pleading, my cries, how much I’m hurting.

Eventually he hangs up and refuses to answer my calls.

I’m crying so much at work. L*** recons he’s just angry and will take it back and regret what he’s said and done.

However I’ve never seen him act like this before.

This is the real deal. He eventually switches off his phone to avoid my constant calls.

On Facebook he changes his relationship status to single.

I’m crying so much at work I get sent home.

At 1.59pm I finally get a text in reply to my pleas about how much I want R**, not T*****. How much I love him. The text reads ‘you’re not interested in him, but you write he’s your man’. That was in relation to the nick names you can give people you own. 

T*****’s girlfriend gave him that nickname  and unless I change it, it stays.

I try to explain but it’s pointless. I’m crying in bed. Ask M*** to bring some weed to smoke. W**** texts saying he wants his clothes that I washed for him.

I explain they’re drying and when they’re dry I’ll bring them to his mum’s or I****** (his work).

He calls me up angry saying he needs them now, he’s not got enough clothes at his mum’s.

I know this is complete crap. I tell him I really don’t want to see him. I’m hurting too much. I would arrange something over the weekend though.

Pissed he didn’t get the answer he wanted, he hangs up.

L*** arranges to come and see me after work, ‘we’ll get loaded’. She wants to keep me company. I tell her about the clothes, and say when she gets the bus, to get off the stop earlier by R**’s work.

I’ll give her the clothes, and she can give them to him if he wants them that badly. She’s cool with that.

I pack up the wet clothes into the carrier bag. I use Asda, coz R**’s a bit of a snob like me and they are the cheapest supermarket bags I could find.

Get a text at 3.24pm saying ‘sorry x’.

Anyway I do my make up, which I cried off, put on my blue Adidas tracksuit bottoms, a little jumper and white cropped fur collar jacket. I look hot. Even in a trackie. I get plenty of whistles and attention as I walk through Mitcham to meet L***.

No point driving in rush hour, such a short distance. I wait in the alley by I*******, L*** takes the clothes and comes back. She tells me she said ‘are you W****?’ And  ‘these are from J**. Sorry’ and laughed as she does.

As we’re walking away, L*** looks around and he’s standing outside the door calling me.  Not wanting to walk back I call him and ask what’s his problem.

Anyway ends up walking back. W*****’s suddenly got his emotions back. He’s got tears in his eyes (not that he would ever let one drop). He says what he said was in anger, he’s sorry, he’s been listening to our song all afternoon. Chris Brown’s With You. And looking through all my pictures on Facebook. He wants to talk. I tell him I was sent home from work crying, did that make him feel good?

I feel myself wanting to cry. Say that was why I didn’t want to see him today and we’d talk tomorrow and went.

Me and L*** get lots of wine. L*** was right about him regretting it and not really meaning it.

At 5.40pm he texts me saying ‘I used the clothes as an excuse to see you coz I know I was wrong. I don’t like upsetting you. Sorry x’

Knowing the ball was in my court I tell him how much I was hurt and he couldn’t just dump me when he’s angry.

At 5.51pm he replies saying ‘I know. You say things you don’t mean when you’re angry. I close off. Just another thing I have to fix. Sorry’

Have a wicked night with L***. Get really twisted. Get loads of texts from R**. Ask him to give me a break. We’ll chat tomorrow. Can’t believe, all that hurt for nothing.

❤️ What They Did

This is another list of the sick things my parents did. This is what they believe it suitable behaviour to bestow upon their child who came begging for their help. They are well aware of my ADHD disability and the subsequent mental health issues I am faced with due to this. All of their actions actually do fuck all to help me remain abstinent. They just increase my ADHD symptoms, my OCD symptoms, the internal battle I face daily with self hate, anxiety and depression. And to cope with these feelings, naturally I rely on self medicating.

They have done NOTHING positive which will help me achieve sobriety and everything negative which pushes me to use.

* CCTV in both my own house and theirs. In every room. At first it was old school, where they would watch the recordings after I had gone to bed. Then they progress to live streaming.

* Then they added little speakers. I actually saw them feeding one under my floor boards once, from my neighbour’s house. It was white. They did this, so I could hear them react to my actions. They would also read out loud any text I wrote on my phone. In an attempt to make their daughter, who already has severe mental health problems believe she was crazy. Seeing as I already self medicated my mental health problems with drugs, by doing this, naturally, they increased my drug use.

* ‘psychosis’ naturally was only present, when they weren’t. For example, when they were ‘out’ or ‘in bed’. I never had ‘psychosis’ in their presence 

* which leads to my next point, although I was still banging up speed in copious amounts whilst Sectioned as I smuggled both my works and plenty of drugs in there, again I had no episodes of psychosis. I naturally used the payphone opposed to my hacked phone to place orders for drugs and stayed away from my bedroom as I stupidly let them know which room I was using, so when I was in there, they’d spend their time camped outside so they could throw stones at my window. Quite pathetic, but I get great pleasure knowing that old witch who gave birth to me suffered a heart attack and was alone due to this

* stole my post, opened the packages containing my legal highs, contaminated them and then re-sealed the items. They allowed me to inject substances which rotted my flesh. There’s photos of this on my blog. Pure evil.

* the constant surveillance I’m both the home I had purchased and their home, resulted in me using dangerous amounts of drugs outside of these properties. I would attempt to use as much as possible before I returned to either property. This resulted in numerous near overdoses and one almost fatal overdose, resulting in two ambulance call outs, costing the NHS

* changed all my lightbulbs to types which had cameras inside. Again there’s photographic evidence of this on my blog.

* told lie to the Sun to evoke as much public hatred for me as possible. And recently they use social media to do this. 

* had me Sectioned, well aware the reasons where far from imaginary. During my section, when the witch had the heart attack, I clearly saw Sir Cunt A Lot and Nice But Dim sheepishly return to their vehicles and leave.

* fuck up the reflection on window... yeah sounds mad. But I’ve seen the reflection of people with ‘scary faces’ only to see said people lying in someone’s back garden two doors away. Twice in my house I’ve had the same on my bedroom window. The second time I laughed as the people ran one by one, to whatever was causing this reflection and said allowed ‘oh! They’re doing this again’ and the chubby faced, Middle aged woman, who seriously needed to do her roots, stopped running and said ‘oh! She knows what we’re doing’ smiled, and walked sheepishly away... really killing the ‘Scream-esq’ effect they were trying to portray. More recently, whilst my cat was sat next to me on the arm of the sofa... around about over dose time September 2017, I saw my dad and Fat Cunt reflected, pulling nasty faces at me and laughing, as the reflection of the cat who was sat next to me walked by. Yeah... nasty pieces of shit right? 

* caused me to suffer from a great deal of paranoia. Something which still effects me today and will do for the rest of my life.

* Hacked my expensive iPhones and iPads. This enabled people to stalk me and naturally terrified the crap out of me at first. This resulted in me dumping a brand new iPad through sheer fear. I had strangers with big dogs circling me. I nearly weighed 8 stone, so clearly unable to defend myself. 

* this one is incredibly strange, but they altered my clothes, therefore ruining most of them. I actually am wearing a pair of jeans today which the witch altered. She removed the normal studs from down the side of the jeans and replace them with glass type studs. Of course I was super paranoid, so thought these may have been hidden cameras. Fuck, they could have been hidden cameras. Other favourites where taking all my shoes and making one of them too small for me. Making walking incredibly painful. Or adding god knows what to my jumper sleeves so they constantly scratched me.

* Heard the witch’s next door neighbour, who must assume drug abuse equates to loss of hearing, tell her builders, loud and clear, while I was 20 feet away from her ‘that’s the girl from the Sun’. Oh, and I’ve had a homeless person and crack head in Brixton confirm this. And then there was the Asian guy on the bus who spilt the beans upon my disclosure of the truth. Oh and some other girl tell her Boyfriend I was the girl from the Sun doing cocaine. I was quick to correct her it was crack... and there’s countless more examples providing

Evidence of this. Recently I take pleasure in pulling out my brand new £1,500 phone, to hear people exclaim I have a new phone. This is especially great after they insult me on their crappy iPhone 5’s.

* had new keys cut, after I was fed up and frankly super insecure over the security of THE HOUSE I HAVE BOUGHT, got new keys cut. When I returned to my house, after spending exactly the last of the cash I had in my bank account, another set of keys had appeared and my house was unlocked.

Recently, after my security camera caught Fat Cunt entering my property illegally, I paid yet again to have the locks changed. Unfortunately this was when N was here... and I have no doubt he’s playing their stupid game. Most likely being blackmailed due to his choice of shall we say... self employment. So even now, I am finding evidence my property is being entered without my permission.

* the also took full advantage of my OCD, which has gone crazy since moving into this house and the explosion of mould, mould mites and dust mites. They took pleasure in driving me crazy. So I’d clean the witch’s kitchen floor, and some fucked up contraption, clearly hidden under the kitchen kick boards, would blow dirt back out again, meaning I was never able to keep it clean. I actually cared for the witch then, and thought this was especially cruel, not only to me, but to the witch too, as she had cancer. So I gave up in the end. Let the witch clean it. I tried to help the cancer riddled Bitch, they continued to fuck it up. So Fuck it.

* stalked me, and enrolled the public (by the lies told on social media and in the Sun). I actually have named and shamed the recent fuckers doing this. Yeah, this will reduce my anxiety won’t it.. 

So here’s just a few of the nasty actions they have undertook.

And remember the lies they have told you? They want me to stop drugs right? Yet every single evil action listed above does nothing but increase my ADHD and mental health problems, which in turn, increases my drug use.

This has nothing to do about helping me get clean and everything to push me to suicide.

❤️ RESEARCH CHEMICAL SUPPLIER

Ok, I’ve been naughty. 

My curiosity for legal highs has perked its ugly head, complete with horns and snarling grin 😈

So for some reason, don’t ask why, I chose not to use my favourite site on the dark net, but used google. This meant paying immediately (No Escrow - this means you pay, but the seller doesn’t get it until you relsease it, you release when you receive the product).

So I used a company called

AceChemStore.com

I ordered 4F-MPH an analogue of Ritalin. Waste of money really when your tolerance to Ritalin is already stupidly high. Anyway product review to follow.

Anyway, Ace Chem Store

I order on the 19/09/17, screen shotted bit coin transfer and emailed it to support@acechemstore.com and asked for a change of delivery address.

Nothing....

19/09/17 - Wanted address changed. Emailed sales@acechemstore.com and Support@acechemstore.com both failed realised need to send proof of order and payment again

20/09/17 - Emailed  acechem@tutanota.com. The said nothing in relation to to adddress being changed. Just ‘we send order when we get money’ *not faulting their poor English. I’d be buggered to say that in another language! 

21/09/17 - asked about address changed. Asked to send order ID! My ID was already in this email trail as I attached a picture earlier no with this. So sent photo again. Ace Chem goes quiet.

04/10/17 - chased them. Asked for frigging ID again. Still using the same trail of emails I had added this to numerous times previously 

05/10/17 - still nothing. I I chased them up. Left a bad review on some Glass Door type company connected to their website. Said throw some freebies and I’d change this. FINALLY HAD CONTACT ... asking me to confirm my payment! They asked for proof of payment again!! So I send again. Just told it would be sent tomorrow. 2 week’s after their payment was taken from my account! 

Their only other response was the payment page! No apology! 

Anyway I had a real moan at them. Told them I ordered fentanyl from Canada on the same day which arrived in 2 weeks.

Promised them they would get a whole page my my blog dedicated to them, and I got over 100 views a day. Any clever company would at least apologise not to look like utter wankers. Maybe send some fancy freebies... I mean those make up bloggers are laughing aren’t they!! I’d love to get the same perks!!

Blog about my cocaine and here’s a free sample!

Any drug dealers using them dark net, feel free to be a groundbreaking company, the first, in the drug field, to utilise a blogger. 😄 but still, I’m serious. 

Or pharmacists, drug researchers, etc I get so jealous of reading about people getting to test LSD, probably with the infamous Professor Nutt... yet, when do I see these trials advertised???

I’d be first choice candidate. Well for drugs I have experienced, but don’t currently use. You know I’m not allergic and won’t die. I know what to expect. I won’t freak out when the IV ketamine reaches my brain, because as horrendous as it is, I’ve done it before. 

God forbid should I be in an accident and get IV ketamine and not morphine. I’m already worried at my reaction. Hate the stuff. AMAZING for opiates withdrawals and worth tripping your tits off for an hour to then be able to sleep and feel normal the next morning and half the afternoon.

I see it as imperative. I’ve not slept for 6 week’s properly (1-3 hours max a night), during opiates Withdrawal. Ended up getting a script from my favourite Psyche Dr. P. Even if it’s just one night’s sleep in a week and the ability to bathe, wash hair, go shopping!

Anyway ketamine and to some extent it’s cousin Robustins Light Blue cough medicine, helps sleep.

Anyway this 4F-MPH clearly wore off ages ago. This post is SO ADHD.. I wouldn’t bother with Ace Chem Store ☹️

You can now sign up for my posts via email, if you click the full website, it’s on the left hand side.

#itsnotaboutthedrugs

@Gemma_Stalked

❤️ 01st July 2017 - Journal

Had an ok day. Still better than before, but still have chronic anxiety. It stops me eating, relaxing and makes me feel awful.

Went to see R*** and went to a barbecue.

R*** makes me so fucking horny. It’s annoying feeling like this when there’s so many people around. I struggle to keep my hands off her.

Still it makes it more exciting when I do touch her. I like it when we’re caught.

3 guys almost walked in lamppost when we were kissing and getting touchy in the pub.

Guys at the BBQ noticed us flirting. We were alone in the front room and I was playing with her, and she was touching me also, when some guy came in.

Some black girl was nasty to us. We went to the toilet to some cold and she was ramming the door. Then 15 minutes later she was slagging us off.

Me and R*** thought her distain stemmed from our clearly evident drug taking, but we were wrong.

She later apologised and said she thought D** (the guy whose party it was, who invited R***) had thought he had ordered two prositutes / strippers.

We were in dresses / heels and everyone else was quite hippy and dressed down. 

She turned out to be really nice. She apologised and was very ashamed that she stereotyped is, as she was also fucked on MDMA, so definitely no drug concerns.

I explained I didn’t go out that often, so when I did I wanted to wear nice clothes and shoes. She asked why, and I said I had a mortgage and bills. Her jaw hit the floor when I said mortgage. It’s quite sad that blonde hair, slim, tan, dress and heels creates connotations of being a stripper / hooker.

Me and R*** got an Uber. It’s so cheap. £35 from north London to mine via Barbican. I need to pay R*** £40. I forgot my password for internet banking (it wouldn’t let me use a thumb print for new transfers).

I think it’s a massive turn on not being able to do what I want to do to R***. I was only able to snatch small glimpses of felling her body. I love her bum and thighs. Her dress was really short so it was easy to slip my hands on her ass when I was walking behind had and she loves it too.

It’s like she switches to a nympho if I flirt with her. Just like she said about the 5 or 6 different personalities in her.

We got rather cosy in the garden and D** came over and said he fancies R*** and said something about us being touchy feely.

And the coke dealer wanted a threesome too. He’s hot. I’d be up for that.

Anyway this is a log of my life, so when I die, the truth can be told. But it needn’t be all doom and gloom.

R*** thinks I’m super hot, which is weird as she’s WAY out of my league. But anyway I can’t be that bad looking if I’m pulling girls as hot as R***.

And I recon I’m fucking M*** tomorrow. About time. 10 years’ we’ve flirted, but one of us was in a relationship.

I’m gonna party, fuck, get drunk and take drugs like there’s no tomorrow. Because it’s likely that ‘no tomorrow’ is likely to happen at some point should they carry on.

Came home to find the two empty Concerta bottles I had left on the bed moved to the windowsill.

I decided to bang up a sunburn. Would have done it booty bumped otherwise, but if they fuck with me, I’ll fuck with them.

I’m gonna order more from TOR. I don’t want to live. If I abuse drugs there’s a higher likelihood I could die and have fun too.

When they stop traumatising and abusing me (and it IS trauma and abuse according to counsellors at Longreaxh), I’ll stop self medicating.

I’m gonna try new legal Highs, the ethylphenidate wasn’t all that. My tolerance sky rocketed, but I made a gram last 3 days. I’d easily do that in a day, if not more.

❤️ I GIVE UP

Ok so I decided to do things properly. Wasted a whole day of annual leave to go to MDART and get my script.

For some reason they TTO Saturday and Sunday (normally just Sunday is a TTO)

Coz TFL is a useless piece of shit and can’t operate some fucking lights there was major delays and the tube stopped at Tooting Broadway.

By the time I got off there it was 6.30pm. The time the chemist in Morden it was 6.30pm. As the TTO was two days, that means I’ve missed three days. That means bye bye script.

So I’m getting b so I don’t get sick. I’m also now wasted in Spoons in Tooting.. two large cocktails and 20mg diazepam

I have no annual leave left to visit MDART for a restart. 

To top it off, I was supposed to have a phone session with my counsellor at 4.30pm. Took half an hour for lunch especially. Did she bother to call? Did she fuck.

I’m a fucking red zone patient!!! The worst catagory. When you become an IV drug user, you kinda lose all your friends. She knows I rely on her and I’ve waited 10 Days to speak to her.

After my two failed recent drug ODs, the couple of seizures I’ve had on coked, and the rest, you’d think she’d had kept my appointment as a priority.

So fuck doing it the right way. Fuck detox. Fuck counselling 

Shit I’m wasted and just got a next cocktail. The last one (plus benzos) has just hit me now.

Better down this, take some pills and fuck off.

I am so tempted to overdose and actually make sure I die.

More fentanyl anyone?

 

Let’s see if MDART actually send someone to my house for not for disengaging

Shit I’m so wasted I can’t keep my eyes open. Better rolls and cigarette And get the next bus home.

#itsnotaboutthedrugs

@Gemma_Stalked

❤️ Unknown Note

I binged today

Ice cream 

Cake

Chicken pie

Ice cream 

Wine

Nuts

Crisps x 3

5 Jaffa cakes

2 yoghurts

Dried fruit snack

Cheese and pineapple

Ham

Must starve tomorrow 

In fairness I haven’t eaten properly for four days. I was back to 9.1lbs

❤️ Junkies And Credit Scores

I might be a junkie, but it doesn’t mean I’m on benefits and in debt.

My recent credit score I’m rather proud of, seeing my rough patch I’m just recovering from 

So to all my haters, I’m considerably richer than you! 954/999

#itsnotaboutthedrugs

@Gemma_Stalked

❤️ 大きな日本 🇯🇵

読んでくれてありがとう

読んでくれてありがとう

私はこれが助けて欲しい

親切で、裁判官ではない

🇯🇵 ❤️

❤️ Drug Myths

I see a lot of incorrect information on drugs, and it drives me crazy.

I want to dispel some of the myths people believe about drugs. This post will be a work in action. When I encounter more myths I will add.

1) Addicts are skinny 

Wrong! Cocaine addicts are notorious for being overweight. The cycle of cocaine addiction tends to go like this. You get drunk and use, naturally you neglecte to eat. However you wake up ravenous! Because you didn’t eat the day before, you binge! You crave junk food. You scoff junk food. Even if you’re rich enough to use daily, it’s VERY rare you can afford enough to use more than being sober. In my experience cocaine addicts are chubby! I’ve only met one person who was addicted to cocaine and was slim. This person was a top earning lap dancer / prostitute, and was SLIM. Not skinny.

2) Heroin addiction equates to tin foil and evidence of needles

Wrong. When I was heavily addicted I smoked heroin in a spliff. No one had a clue. However unlike cocaine addiction, you do lose weight.

3) Addicts, especially injecting addicts, are skinny, homeless and on the streets, who would rob your granny for her pension. I am an testimony of how incorrect this myth is.

4) You can easily spot an addictwho injects. Wrong. I got away with secrecy for ages here. Look out for long sleeves in summer, or like me, someone who goes OTT with fake tan

Reality Check

Here’s my real experiences to look for

1) the person who eats junk food constantly, when no longer a teenager, who stays slim. When you smoke crack and heroin all night you don’t eat. During the day you binge on shit. People marvel at your fast metabolism.  Unless you’re undiagnosed hyperthyroidism, it’s an easy indicator you’re on drugs.

2) Pin prick pupils. The give away for opiate addiction 

3) Cannabis can make you both hyper, giggly and chatty AND quiet, lazy and give munchies

4) If you notice a colleague who’s very hungover and lethargic, only to take a early lunch and be productive and active after ‘going to the bank’ at 11am. In hindsight this was a major red flag I was a drug addict.

5) weight loss. While cocaine makes you binge, by the time you’re onto crack or injecting, you’re gonna join the size 0 club.

6) someone who flicks their ash into a container to save. Many crack heads save their cigarette ash to place on foil on their pipe. I did this often. People noticed. They just didn’t know why.

7) Ridged plans. I was not spontaneous when I was in the height of addiction. If I had made plans, I would socialise. If I didn’t make plans, chances were I would need to score that evening, so wouldn’t come out.

8) A sense of urgency, mood change. From withdrawal to high.

9) When addicted to heroin, that doesn’t equate to immediately feeling ok. In fact, I’d be feeling incredibly sick, score, smoke a b spliff AND still vomit my guts up.

10) Scabs and scars... on your face. Whilst I never circumed to this, I’m well aware that stimulant users love to pick and something which isn’t there. Scabby faces are likely.

11) Bambi eyes - Ecstasy give away. The police are clued up on this now, but I’m astonished at the number of times in the 90’s I was pulled over with bambi eyes, chewing my face off, and was let drive away. 

12) a ‘cannabis’ bong, which has been scraped. No weed smoker is going to scrap the residue off their pipe. A crack Head however!!

Anyway, comment anonymously if you can think of any others I’ve left off. I’m constantly watching films and cussing their representation of drug use. If I’ve missed anymore I’ll add. And as I encounter more this will be updated.

❤️ Definition Of........

Ok, what kind of person am I describing 

- Incredibly high IQ, around the 150 mark

- Completed the Mensa tests for adults in the newspapers aged 7

- Raised with a strict catholic father

- Middle class

- Convent education 

- 10 GCSE’s, 4 A Levels, 1 AS Level, NVQ 2 & 3, CPCAB Level 2 Counselling, IOSH Qualified

- Safeguarding Officer

- First Aid qualified

- Fire Marshall

- Works in Employability helping people on benefits over come their barriers and secure employment 

- Work has been award winning

- Donates to cancer and animal charities

- Volunteered at Cats Protection

- Sky dived for Battersea Dogs Home

- polite, please, thank you, may I?

- honest 

- home owner (single too)

- psychic 

- believe in karma

- does fake tan

- curls her hair

- hair extensions 

- nice clothes

- clean

- wears make up

- owns a hot tub

- owns a pedigree pet

- rescues animals

- lives in a presentable home

- works

- has sky TV

- has broadband 

- owns an iPhone X

- has designer handbags

- is kind

- loyal

- articulate

- intelligent 

- owns expensive jewellery 

- has a house full of possessions 

- is empathetic 

- Is buying a 3 bed house, with ensuite, parking, garden, downstairs cloakroom room, OUTRIGHT. Yes that right, single (much hated) female, and mortgage free at 36

.....

- they also smoke crack

- take heroin

- addicted to opiates 

- injects drugs

- uses cocaine

- addicted to benzo

- has been detox and rehab

- and failed all three times 

- has been sectioned 

- has to hide the tracks on her hands before work

- has ADHD 

- cannot function without opiates or Ritalin 

- feels nothing from Ritalin anymore, she cannot get out of bed without it 

- no high from opiates, need to stave off sickness and feel normal.

You can bet if you work in a company of 100 or more staff. You’ll work with an addict... maybe even a junkie like me. Whether it’s OTC codeine or IV heroin (probably done during a break at work), we have the ability to have addictions and be functional.

Bar major fuck ups, we tend to work hard. We’re good employees. We need our payslips to fund our habits. We do not want to lose our jobs. 

You may notice certain behaviours, and fall for our excuses. Sweats - cold or flue, exhaustion - insomnia, vomiting - 24 hour bug, most likely we’re skinny to small. Size 4 to size 10. We’ll eat a lot at work (as when we’re at home we’re using and not eating), but we have ‘fast metabolisms’. Our energy levels can dramatically change. This is when we’ve used. But we’re working hard now, so you say nothing. We take lunch at 10.30am To go to the bank as it’s too busy at lunch time. After that we frequently go for a smoke or to the toilet. We may get anxious and edgy when we’re running out.

But our positive aspects outweigh the quirks.

So don’t judge me. You don’t judge those you know, you just aren’t aware about. I was smoking crack and heroin all day every day whilst employed.

- I’m a junkie 

#itsnotaboutthedrugs

@Gemma_Stalked

❤️ 11th October 2017 - I Love My Job!

I LOVE my job.

Today I saw two clients. I enjoyed helping them both. One has a reputation for being negative and lazy.... he wasn’t with me! Actually got him to apply for a job with the Royal Mail! And set him homework to check their website for more jobs.... and he ‘was’ dead against training / education.. even managed to change his mind on that one.

The other appointment was just an introduction, and he was lovely too.

Yesterday I ended up having to do a registration completely on my own... my mentor was on a conference call. Well she said conference call, it sounded more like a personal chat. Anyway, did it... all on my own... perfect!!!

I never got one registration correct in my last role, it was so complicated. And if there was one error, you couldn’t correct it. The two hour registration session had to be respected.

Disclosed to two colleagues how depressed I was before I got the job offer and my intentions. I hope I didn’t shock them.

So, whilst I will always be an addict (even if I’m clean), and most likely always be a junkie (banging up occasionally), it doesn’t mean I cannot be a person who contributes positively to society.

God sent me two angels on Wednesday the 27th.

J and A

#itsnotaboutthedrugs

@Gemma_Stalked

❤️ TO ALL THOSE WHO COMMENTED

To everyone who has commented I am apologise for not replying.

I had notification set up to an email account I was not using therefore did not receive them.

Comments will be applied to more frequently from now on.

#itsnotaboutthedrugs

@Gemma_Stalked

❤️ Once Upon A Time - April 2015 - Springfield Spies

Once upon a time there was a perfectly sane princess, forced to be in an institute full of people related to the Queen, knew 2 Pac and whose fathers were hyena’s.

She was locked away by her evil step parents, in a Dickensisen esque institution. In this awful, ex-prison, overflowing with incredibly sick patients, conversing with Jesus, whilst insisting their devotion to the church of Satan.

Locked away, where I shouldn't be, lacking a companion to engage in the simple necessity of conversation. Staff attempted to talk to you, but without fail Mad M would attempt to enter the men's corridor, smoking and they would dash off to prevent her attempting to have a nap in one of the male rooms. Or crazy K would torment some innocent target. Or Nit Picky G would call an ambulance. I could go on. Needless to say, no one sane would talk to her. They were too busy stopping the insane from destroying the place

I allowed my parents to visit on day two. They were fully aware of this fact. This was no place for a drug addict. I needed rehab or detox. Not a mental institution. I knew I was in crazy town. I would get no treatment to deal with my admittance. This is a clear breach of the mental health code of practice. No Win fee anyone?

Desperate for them to see this was far from appropriate. My drug addiction, ADHD, self medicating, nothing to do with the reasons for having me locked away, would be addressed. I hoped home treatment would be agreed and would have refrained from daily intravenous drug use to have assured this. 

Instead of taking me out of this hellish prison they reinforced their lie that their cruel actions where nothing more than a mirage, created by my poor sick brain. As they were kind loving people incapable of such hideous actions. 

My heart and soul sunk. They didn't even have to admit to it, but the lies broke me a little bit more each time.

I was there as I believed they we're surveilling me. I have evidence of people tracking my movements and evidence there was some kind of sick Big Brother CCTV installed in my home and theirs. 

Upon me looking out my window or leaving my house the local community would snap into some The Trueman Show type acting.

What my sick family was doing was big. Big enough to have me locked away unlawfully.

I decided to make the most of my time imprisoned in this institution by spending my time using ethylphenidate intravenously psychosis free (bar the annoying niggle via my bedroom window... Yeah psychosis, only from outside my window! Yeah that's authentic! Go Mum and Dad).

Upon admittance I was rather annoyed that I hadn't attempted to hide my works. 

Their half are searched upon arrival meant I was able to use ethylphenidate stashed in my one bra cup and the benzodiazepines firmly stashed in the second. I simply refused to have the doctor do the medical, claiming I was too upset. This allowed me to go to my room. There on I hid this in my food packets.

And although I had a resolved result to utilise my detainment to wean myself off. I was never using less than 1 g a day as per before my detainment. New works (Needles and syringes) quickly arrived. 

However due to the amount of time the real crazy's required from the staff, sneaking some fresh works in was child's play.

Day one I inhaled the ethylphenidate from my bra, after my parents and their refusal to remove me from this hell. Then when the works arrived I went straight back to my 1 gramme daily intravenous habit. To be honest, without this helping me through this unbearable misery, without a doubt, suicide upon discharge would have been inevitable. This saved my life.

The ethylphenidate numbed the indescribable aching cascading from my heart, through my veins, to each millimetre of my skinny, malnourished body. I kept hearing my mother's lie to the doctor and social worker 'SHE THINKS I'M FILMING HER'. How I longed for 'yes we'll treat her at home' instead. 

This resulted  in such chronic depression I feel suicide (remember I had a bag full of antipsychotic and benzos) would have been my only other choice to escape.

My mother shouted her lies to the people responsible for removing my freedom unlawfully. I found my mother tended to shout a lot when it came to telling lies. Unlike my father who would faff around in an anxiety ridden haze before moving on to 'Let's Shout Coz We're Crap Liars'. She clearly forgets psychosis would respond to requests earlier on.

This hurt. Like most junkies I'm where I am because I struggle to cope with huge amounts of pain in my less than perfect life. Creating more hurt will definitely not encourage me to use more. Nope no. I'll definitely stop using. Yeah right that's sarcasm.

I was able to use freely bar the odd annoyance when in my bedroom. So simply I often used and left immediately to prevent this annoyance. Having seen my father, brother and his girlfriend or how I like to refer to them, Sir Cuntalot, Fat Cunt and Nice But Dim, walking back to the car park and the odd noise whilst in my room. 

The only ‘psychosis’ I experienced was Hearing the fat cunt, Sir cunt a lot and nice but dim outside my bedroom window. I also saw Sir cunt a lot and nice but dim walking to the car park. I saw fat cunt doing the samBar that, I was banging up to my hearts content and psychosis free.

Finally I only heard it when my bedroom window was open. Almost as if it was human created, not created by my brain.  That would mean unlawful sectioning (Legal help gratefully accepted)

I now realised why they had been so eager to see which room I was in. So they could continue to torment me whilst locked up exactly where they wanted me to be. 

But bar this pathetic attempt at making me think I was mad, I was 'psychosis' free and banging up more than when I was on the outside.

Weird how my psychosis can be turned off by shutting a window or leaving a room. Yeah psychosis! Go thickos! 

The only other psychotic episode was seeing the sanitary box emitting a white flash. And then a red then white flash on the bugged mobile phone - across from the camera.

Karma was watching over me though. Whilst the three Cunt-a-teirs tormented me, my mother suffered a heart attack (because of me she would scream in my face at a later date). After being subjected to their cruel actions this gives me immense pleasure. 

Anyway psychosis over back to the nut house. After day one and my parents realisation this was not a suitable place for a junkie, I would get no treatment over my ADHD, self medicating, addiction therapy etc. a man in a dressing gown appeared.

Labelling him another nut nut, I spoke to D, a long termer with a section 17 implemented meaning day release. 

Finally, on day 3, after my parent’s one and only visit, in comes S. He looked the part, wearing a ladies dressing gown and pyjamas. I assumed he was another nut job.

It much later, he was playing music in the smoking area did he catch my attention.

'My love 

Your love

My love 

Ohhhhhhh'

The lyrics of a garage tune I remembered. I started singing along. It was followed by a favourite, 'Do You Really Like It' by Pide Pipper and the MCs.

I sang each lyric with Nit Picky G getting more and more excited with my ability to sing along.

'What else you got on there' I said approaching. He had a few garage tunes I loved and my theme tune! Stan by Eminem. I demanded he played the latter.

'Coz that shit helps when I'm depressed

I even got a tattoo with your name across my chest 

Some times I even cut myself to see how much it bleeds 

It's like adrenaline the pain is such a sudden rush to me'

‘Sometimes I even cut myself to see how much I bleed,

It’s like adrenaline the pain is such a sudden rush to me’

‘Bout that guy who cudda saved that other guy from drowning, but didn’t. And Phil saw it all at the show who found him, that’s kinda how that is, you coulda rescued me from drowning, now it’s too late, I’m on a thousand downers now and I’m drowsy’

He introduced himself as S and seemed impressed at my version of Stan, belting out both Dido and Eminem.

S, like me, there for an overdose. Like me, benzos. He had fag burns all over his hands from stubbing out his fags. He had real moments of what sincerely appeared to be real depression and did seem a genuine patient until my discovery upon discharge.

S entertained me with tale of his cocaine fuelled past, joined me for an evening joint daily and spoke of his time on Roehampton's nut wars at Queen Mary's.

We both shared a love of drawing and when not smoking a sheet of A4 could pass away an hour of time. Which when in a place when time stood still, meant more than I can give it credit for.

That’s not where the similarities ended

- music

- self admittance for and OD

- likes drawing 

Things that didn’t add up

- did actually seem depressed 

- stubbed fags out on his hand

- short stay 

- depression

- smoking weed with me (staff never checked my grinder, filled with weed)

- talked about cocaine and benzo use 

- talked about personal life 

S is still questionable over his authenticity. He has spoken about the nuthouse in Roehampton.

However he gave me a companion and I was grateful.

I wouldn't have questioned S if it wasn't for Glen who appeared the day after, overdosing as well!

The following day Glen arrived.  We spoke on his second day which was my day five

- In for OD

- sad

- artistic

Weird 

- very short stay

- said little about his personal life

- not Depressed

- to nice

- gave me band, lighter and ring

- He lied that MI5 checked my house and there were no cameras

- freaked out when I discovered surveillance equipment

- Bank statement showing £900 paid by the Home Office

-‘ said he would help with my home and screwdown the floorboards but he didn’t

Also

- he was nice and believed me when most people didn’t

- He was kind and let me happiest place in the queue when we queueing for lunch

- intimidated the strangers that was stalking me

- heart weird but he was okay with me banging up

This raised alarm bells now I am looking back in retrospect.

Glenn and S provide much relief from the boredom.  S even wore my onesie. Reminiscent of L doing the same in Dove Ward

We had all been admitted for overdosing. I found out cleanse reason was  floxacillin (Prozac).. I found it hard to believe as this causes serotonin syndrome so you would be shaky have tachycardia and be anxious. Anyone who went through this syndrome to severity would definitely die.

They did provide a welcome break from the shuffling brain dead other in mates.

S even wore my onesie for a joke.

Glen was homeless after Springfield and abused my good nature.’m however Wednesday I was given leave from 6 PM to 8 PM on Thursday and 8 PM to 8 PM on Friday. I had an appointment on Friday at 10 AM and I was officially discharged.

It was clear there was no question With regards to my mental instability. I was sane.

As I waved goodbye to Springfield I also waved good bye to my freedom and privacy. 

Friday night they try to detain me. I have not been staying at my parents house from Wednesday to Friday. 

Clearly my parents had played that old ‘we are concerned devastated so try to make her stay’ card. I pro tested using my discharge. The Junior nurses cannot overwrite a decision made by the senior psychiatrist. Then it was suggested that I stayed as a voluntary patient. I refused and the guise of staying at my mummy and daddy‘s house. I was free, but imprisoned. No longer a detailed patient on section 5 but imprisoned as it is of my intravenous ethylphenidate vanished.

As  I waved goodbye to Springfield, I also waved goodbye to my human right of privacy.

Although this was the last I saw of S, Glen had a plan to remain a constant in my life. His intention where to get a perfectly sane human, sectioned again for the highly illegal reason of using drugs intravenously.

As you'll know from my previous Springfield Spy post, Glen's story didn't add up. Then I found his spy book.

Then the penny dropped. My parents realised Springfield wasn't suitable, there was no other 'normal' people like me, and two people who overdosed turned up. 

Neither S nor Glen denied my initial accusation of them being spies.

So welcome to my sick world. I'm sure you can share my sentiments of hatred towards my family.

I will never love them again.