❤️ 06th April 2015 - Journal Part 1

Another crazy day in this abhorrent household, being forced to communicate, live and survive with my destructive, heinous, loathsome ‘family’.

Well today I received an email from R***, my drug addiction Counsellor. She's asked to see me at 3pm on Monday. Her email was very unexpected. Recently I have neglected my counselling, so I knew due to her initiating communication the outcome could not be good.

It was filled with negativity and I could feel the apprehension R*** must have been consumed with whilst typing.

‘Dear Jay

It would be nice to see you. Can you do Monday at 3pm?’

Warm regards

R***’

The email was sent Friday, it was Monday now. In fact I only have a couple of hours to spare. Due to my chaotic, all consuming drug addiction, I had only noticed her request.

I hit reply saying

‘Hi R***’

Sure. I’ll be down shortly’

My drug use has sky rocketed, being the UK's most favourite junkie has certainly encouraged me to use more. As ethylphenidate has a relatively short half life, within half an hour, any euphoria has vanished completely, putting the carpet cleaner, of the same name, into second place.

By 2-4 hours any positive effects are slowly diminishing and the 'come down' starts to crescive slowly until negativity surpasses positivity.

My cool calm head starts to pick up its pace. As if I'm Lewis Hamilton, in a formula one racing car at Brands Hatch.

It jumps and flits from subject to subject, with no clear route from thought to thought. 'Look at the robin', 'that cloud looks like a fish', 'where can I bang up?', 'my jumper's itchy'. Thought after thought. Constantly, unrelentingly chaotic.

The anxiety begins to cause a pain in my chest. As if I have a large ball of spinning energy. The feeling of dread and doom radiating from the bottom of my rib cage, spreading through my body. 

The anxiety and chaos in my head is undoubtedly increased due to psychosis by mum and dad naturally, in turn, this increases my drug use.

I'm certainly not coping with this whilst being sober. If I'm having 'drug induced psychosis' I'm absolutely consuming the drugs.

This is what my crazy, evil family clearly cannot comprehend. Doing this shit only makes me use more. However they're in too deep now to admit they've clearly failed and their sick version of psychosis has only elevated my drug use.

Using speed was an imperative requirement to survive. It was a prerequisite of life. Air, food (albeit very little), water, shelter, warmth, sleep and speed.

❤️ 28th April 2017 - Journal

I Long for a syringe filled by 1/3 with glorious blue crystal ethylphenidate. It's now illegal to sell and my parents scared me by threatening a second admittance to he hellious Springfield. I gave them my drugs. I have them my works. I have now not used drugs intravenously or one week. Last Friday Dr. P told me I might not get my Concerta back. I told her I would endure 3 months prisionment for my 'normal'. That's the only reason I have not banged up. Otherwise a replacement legal high is already out there.  4-me-TMP.

#itsnotaboutthedrugs @Gemma_Stalked

❤️ 10th April 2015 - Journal PART 2

Well I've just escaped from Springfield. Although I was officially discharged this morning they tried to get me to stay. I realised something was amiss upon my arrival. Suddenly there was a flurry of activity in the staff office. 

The head nurse, who had little time for me during my detainment, when I needed support and advice, had a sudden interest in me. 

Refusing to give me my buprenorphine,  nor unlock the door, separating me from imprisonment and the free world, I sat in the waiting room as a sense of panick and urgency engulfed me. 

My heart began to race, my palms moistened and my head raced as they said I wasn't free to go. I had only just picked up around 20 grams of speed and fresh works. Unable to use a toilet I panicked they would be taken and destroyed should they search my bag prior to taking me prisioner again. 

Being sectioned wasn’t an issue. Losing £150 worth of speed was.

I stated the doctor discharged me, they couldn't over rule this. I knew my rights. All I had done was research this during my stay.

It was now 7pm and any doctor they could reinstate my section, had long gone home. 

So, they asked me to say as a voluntary patient. This I too refused. They kept me, trapped for a good 45 minutes, trying to delay my discharge and get me re-admitted. 

However, unlike the patients who should actually been on a mental health ward, I was far too aware of my rights and the lack of power a couple of nurses had with regard to my detainment. Which is none. 

They only gave up on their lamentable attempt to re-section me, upon realisation my bed had already been allocated to a new patient and they were full.

I agreed to return for my buprenorphine, which is fine as it's Friday night and MDART can't script me until Monday.

And the reason why they wanted me back on the ward? On Wednesday and Thursday when I had leave, I stayed at my friend's house and didn't go home to mummy and daddy.

No doubt my evil family have influenced this (in hindsight I am fully aware they asked for me to be detained and the patient Glen Who had befriended me, Had done so purely to get me resectioned)

My argument was, if they had asked where I was staying, I would have been congruent and said my friend’s house. I'm an adult so surely I can stay where I like.

I got quiet upset, but not due to the impending detainment. My fear was being sectioned and my speed being confiscated. This would mean I would have to wait a whole day until visiting time when I could get my friend to sneak some in for me. 

My speed was in a zipper pocket on the flap that closed my shoulder bag. I opened the bag and flipped the front between the back of the bag and me. 

My feeble plan, should they make me stay was to hide the front flap and I'd just empty the items inside the bag. I would state the same items were in it as when I left and hope they would not notice the bulging sectioned packed with my precious drugs. 

I went to the court yard to smoke a cigarette and utilised not being watched. Waiting for K and G to leave me alone, I quicklya shoved a smaller bag of speed and the benzos in my bra cups.

Now I'd just need works sneaked in. I hoped I could see N**** prior to being imprissoned so I could give him the speed and my works. Of course, bar one syringe and one pin which I'd hide in my Timberlands. On my initial admission, their search routine was so inadequate, they completely ignored my weed grinder filled with weed.

Thankfully for me they realised my bedroom had already been allocated to someone else bed. My tears and protests stating my rights meant eventually I was allowed to leave. 

I truly hated Springfield. It was full of very sick people who weren't with it. I'm a junkie, I need rehab not being locked up and left to rot.

Only good thing was being able to use in peace. The pay phone got around the problem of my hacked mobile phone. 

They broke all requirements of the law regarding being sectioned, providing no treatment for the reason of my admission. Some days there wasn’t even enough food to feed the whole ward. Thankfully food wasn’t high on my agenda when I was using my beloved speed.

Good bye Springfield. Little did I know this meant hello chaos.

❤️ 10th April 2015 - Journal PART 1

Hooray! I'm officially discharged from Springfield after 10 days. Days 8 and 9 were spent 'on leave' and I stayed at my friend's house. I'm dreading returning to my parent's.

I have to return at 5pm for my TTO (To Take Out) buprenorphine. I'm down with medical abreviations. I've had 7 hospital admittances since November and out of 112 days, 52 have been in hospital. That's not far off half.

17/11/14 - 04/12/14

18 Days

Detox

Dove Ward

Crawley Hospital 

27/12/14 - 31/12/14

5 Days

Cellulitis 

Champney's Ward

St. George's 

16/01/15 - 20/01/15

5 Days

Cellulitis 

Keate's Ward

St. George's 

09/02/15

1 Day

Accidental Overdose

Urgent Care

St. George's 

17/02/15 - 27/02/15

11 Days

Detox

Dove Ward

Crawley Hospital 

09/03/15 - 10/03/15

2 Days

Overdose

Resus & Urgent Care

St. George's 

01/04/15 - 10/04/15

10 Days

Sectioning 

Springfield

St. George's

It's the non-accidental overdose that landed me in Springfield. Lessons learnt? Yes do it properly next time. Sectioning is the punishment for half arsed attempts on suicide via overdosing (I was under the pretence Glen and Steve were genuine patients at the time of writing).

❤️ April 2015 - Camera Lightbulbs

Well, I was sectioned for thinking my parents had lost all respect for my human right of privacy and were filming me in both their and my home.

I was told I was being paranoid. No one was filming me. My mother even screamed this at the doctor and social worker responsible for my freedom.   

Being a harden junkie I've smashed many a light bulb. The Eco ones are fab for making a crack pipe if desperate. 

So I was rather baffelled when I took a lightbulb down and notice the weight. It usurped every light bulb I had ever hold.

So I smashed it open and look what I found.

What a complex circuit board for a lightbulb. And why a battery attached I do not know. Lightbulbs do not need batteries.

So I googled hidden cameras Lightbulbs and look what came up

So clearly being filmed isn't a disillusion. I've been locked up unlawfully. 

❤️ 10th April 2015 - 17th April 2015 - MEET THE JUNKETTES!!!! Part 3

Finally! The last instalment of the Junkettes, AKA the people who happily decided to mass stalk me. They made me incredibly mentally ill. I will have this paranoia for life. 

I have never heard of anyone doing this to a drug addict before.

I assume, initially, the intent was to get me to stop. But it didn’t. It only increased my anxiety, thus my self medication to cope.

These people should hand their heads in shame. I am a petite lady. The majority of these stalkers were big grown men, who could easily over power me.

This was a very scary time in my life. Which will stay with me forever.

As you will see, mobile phones feature heavily. This leads me to believe some kind of tracking app was used. Only this time it wasn’t Pokemon they were hunting.

It was a real human being, with feelings and emotions. I’m sure they wouldn’t permit this to be done to any of their loved ones.

The fact my loved ones created this, hurts so much. I honestly thought my daddy would protect me from nasty, evil people forever. Yet he gave them the ok to do this

My daddy 1981 -  2015 - my Superman. My hero.

My daddy 2015 - Date - I don’t know. He scares me now. He makes me feel the way he used to protect me from people who created these feelings.

I miss him so much. My heart aches. I know I’ll never have my hero back.

It’s true, you don’t know what you have till it’s gone. RIP Daddy. Hello That Man!

Bus should be 163 not 168

#itsnotaboutthedrugs @Gemma_Stalked