07th May 2018 – Journal

I awoke to realising I felt super sick. I was trying not to vomit, and knew I didn’t want to swallow a pain killers as this would certainly result in me being sick.

I was already heaving.

Clearly one of my mother’s colleagues has purchased (or more likely is a council tenant) a house which is very near mine. This was the same house I heard my brother, mother, niece and aunty at the other day.

My head was killing me. I had a really bad sinus pressure headache. As I sat there feeling a bit sorry for myself (naturally talking to myself), I heard a sarcastic ‘BOO HOO HOO’.

I was clearly being listened to.

So I then said how I had pneumonia and told my mother and she didn’t even bother to come and see me... and that’s how I ended up letting dick head moving back in and being raped!

She didn’t have anything to say to that.

I wish I knew what I’m doing wrong.

I stupidly let my Ritalin wear off this afternoon and felt like I was going to die when I had a chronic anxiety attack.

Thankfully taking my Ritalin stopped this.

I said, knowing I was being listened to, if it wasn’t for self medicating with substances which caused a dopamine re-uptake would mean I would have killed my self long ago. Illegal substances would switch the kettle off in my head which made me feel like this. And then I would get a couple of days of peace before the kettle finally boiled and I NEEDED to use again.

Thankfully now, I CHOOSE to use.

Before Ritalin I HAD to use.

I said yet again, their congruency would result in myself paying for 6 - 12 months of rehab and doing it properly.

I told them, if they stop abusing me, I’ll stop using....

I was still stalked.

There was still abuse.

I don’t know what I can do to make this stop.

When I went through opiate withdrawal... they abused me.

After rehab.. they abused me.

Yes I lost my job through stupidity when I relapsed. But I got another job. They still abused me and have ensured they’ve messed that up.

My alarms not going off, and me being late... just makes my colleagues hate me even more.

All I have ever wanted is to be liked and to make them happy.

No matter what I do on earth, the abuse will never stop. They care more about trying to preserve the fabricated ideology that they are ‘caring’ parents than they do about me, or my sobriety.

They could stop. They could make a slight attempt to redeem themselves. They’ll never stop.

They’ve destroyed my career. When you’ve taken from society (drugs counselling, detox, rehab) a person like me wants to give back. My job is helping disadvantaged people secure work. And I’m good at it. But my frequent lateness, means I will not get a reference anymore. No one at my company likes me due to the lies they have told to the press.

I’m aware a major referral link to my blog is a news website. Of course, my hacked phone couldn’t access it. And now my tweets about it and the link have vanished.

I found the code for my camera... and my security camera vanished the next day.

I don’t know why they hate me so much. I don’t know why they won’t stop and let me be happy. I don’t know what I can do to make it stop.

The lovely girl who joined the project I worked on, and initially wanted to be my friend... no longer talks to me and doesn’t reply to my messages.

If they really fucking cared, why would they destroy a chance of me having a sober friend I could do normal things with?

I have decided... as I’m aware I will be late for work or miss work the whole month.. after payday I’m not returning.

As my career is destroyed.. so I won’t get a decent job again, and my house sale is bullshit, I’m gonna take the biggest loan I can get. Rent my house. Vanished. And spend the whole loan on drugs and my suicide.

I’m going for the exit bag with helium... as I’m pretty sure any attempts to overdose peacefully or purchase sedatives, will be unsuccessful. Still, I can buy £200 of street heroin and bang it up.

I’ll take Orion with me. He’s 10, he’s skinny and sickly. I swear this house is making him ill, like it did Tsega and me. He vomits has diarrhoea, and cries all the time for attention. No one will love him like I do.

My bunnies, are young.. and due to the fact they’re neutered and vaccinated, and have so many accessories, will be easily adopted.

It kills me I can’t be their forever home. I love them so much. But as there are three of them, they’ll be fine. The crazy lady who spoiled them as babies will easily be forgotten.

I’m so sad I have to die to stop the abuse.

I’m so sad my own mummy and daddy care more about their reputation than the life of their child.

But until I die, the abuse will continue. Nothing I can do will make them happy. Nothing I can do will stop them abusing me.

It’s so sad.

But I’ll have a decent afterlife... as I’ve never intentionally hurt anyone.

I know the truth will come out. And my suicide will only ensure this happens sooner. They’ve made this big. They’ve made me famous.

My cousin was a much worse druggy than me. For a good 10 years. Leaving his pins all over his room. Going out for a family meal, spending ages in the toilet and returning with blood stains on his shirt.

I’d never do that to my family.

I just needed their support.

Instead they destroyed me.

And while I’m alive I’ll never know why.

God, if I’m meant to live, give me a sign.

Jay, the Famous Junkie.