❤️ 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.

❤️ Letter To Independent Press Standards Organisation- June 2015

During the height of my fame I ended up speaking to the Independent press standards organisation. I explained my situation about in falsely missrepresented in the press.

Funnily enough I’m like when I telephoned the Sun and was told to check myself into a mental hospital, my complaint was taken seriously almost as if they were aware of my situation. Below is the letter that followed.

Dear H

I feel it’s imperative to prove a little background information. I am an  adult sufferer of ADHD. I was previously prescribed methylphenidate. Duty sale misfortune both at home and at work I started to also use legal Ritalin.  Soon after I was a mess. I neglected my prescription and just abused ethylphenidate. I deeply regret this.

My parents then began undertaking some very nasty behaviour, claiming it was all in my head. I have been and still am tortured by them.

Around March I noticed I appear to be famous. People photographed me or appeared to text my location. My congruency resulted in me being sectioned. No one believed my parents could undertake such horrific actions. I have evidence to prove that invasion of privacy was not in any way a psychotic episode.

I found even when clean people still appeared to stalk me.

That distressed me so much it resulted in an overdose.

Thankfully when disclosing the horrific actions my parents have done several strangers informed me this was due to an article in the Sun including a photo with me smoking crack cocaine. Something I really indulge in.

It would appear the intention of this is to make me believe I am mad, yet prior to my parents knowing, I used considerably more, with no psychotic episodes.

My parents have destroyed my home, my car, my possessions and now my reputation and career in education

Any decent parents would’ve paid for and ADHD psychiatrist all rehab and detox.

The Sun has breached the following

1) accuracy - I used crack cocaine occasionally I use Ethylphenidate for ADHD. When so many people strive to destroy and hurt you I’m certainly not in during disabling consequences of my disability

- misleading photo

- misleading statements

- did not distinguish between comment conjecture and fact 

- not fairly reported

- clear defamation.

2) privacy

- no respect for private life.  Whilst I have struggled with drug addiction since I was 17 I have always worked and contributed to society

- no consent for photo

 

3) Clandestine devices

- unsure whether my friend took the photo or my father /press did this

I am completely broken. I was sectioned unlawfully. I will never work in education again so will need to retrain

My loss of endings could easily amount to £150,000.

I will not live a lie, to Eastfork consciences of my sick parents.? They have done actions to me which places them up that with Fred and Rose West.

They’ve destroyed my whole life and have got the nation to hate me when I desperately needed the help and support.

I am praying you can help me. All I want is the truth and some help with drug addiction

Update -  Unfortunately all evidence of the article had been removed by this date so no further action could be taken

#itsnotaboutthedrugs

@Gemma_Stalked

❤️ 10th October 2017 - Journal

Well I’m back at work. The job isn’t perfect but I love it. I’m working and contributing to society again.

In this role I literally only have to complete 4 pages of paper work, which admin soughts  and uploads to the system.

NCS come in once a month to do CV workshops, so I don’t even have to stress about that.

Someone else goes out and sources the candidates. A job broker finds the jobs. All I have to do is get candidates to come in and apply for vacancies.

I will get bored as I will literally be sitting at my desk all day just seeing candidate after candidate. But I will not have to travel across loads of boroughs,?worry about travel fares, stress to get to meetings miles away for. 9 o’clock in the morning. I guess it’s an easy role.

It’s only my second day and I’ve already lost my candidate virginity. So my first one completely unsupervised. 

I wanted to have at least four meetings booked by the end of today. I have 10 meetings booked.

The staff are all really nice so praying to God nothing gets caught out about my previous work history and I’m able to settle in and do a good job. 

I went to the toilet earlier and took some Ritalin. I take it correctly due to its bioavailability and my high tolerance. Went for a cigarette afterwards. Amen and the receptionist was like oh the lady who went in the toilet after you found something you left behind. I shit myself it was the plastic syringe even know I’ve been very careful about making sure it was in my bag before I had left. Panic Field my brain.... only to notice my energy drink was on my desk. I had left in the toilet.

I told a story to the receptionist that I was worried I’d left my Tampax in the toilet. I do love to panic and think the worst.

I had a great day even though I was tired from lack of sleep last night.  Had had a cheeky Monday night smoke. Didn’t sleep till 2 AM.

But as I travelled closer and closer to the place I call home I noticed my mood slowly dropping and dropping.

By the time I arrived home I was in a foul mood and I remained in this mood all night.

I have taken this mood out on N. This house is poisonous. Because I am now working my counsellor has agreed to have email sessions with me. I long to email her now when I need her help but I cannot be assured I actually have privacy. Either time I’m aware I have privacy I probably won’t feel the need to email her. My evening depression is only likely to get worse.

I don’t know what today I hope I can move quick because this house is killing me.

#itsnotaboutthedrugs

@Gemma_Stalked

❤️ October 2016 - Rehab - Email To My Counsellor

Subject - Are you back at work

 

Can I please arrange a session with you when you're next working late. 

I miss talking to you. It's harder here as
I have to build up the courage to disclose all my sh*t again.

You said (I wanted to say promised, but I don't think you actually did, but let's pretend you promised!) you would still talk to me.

I've got a lot of hatred over what my sick fcuk family did.

Let me know when this might be possible

X 

Counsellor

HI J,

it may be a good idea that you stay with the therapeutic work you are doing over there, I believe you  it's hard to build up a new relation with someone who does not know you yet (feeling maybe exposed? )  but give it the best you can...it is a process. 

My Tuesdays evening are usually taken up, as you can imagine  they tend to be popular but I will try to find some time in between appointments for a chat.  e-mail me a contact number or a way to contact you. 

A warm hug, 

Rx 

#itsnotaboutthedrugs

@Gemma_Stalked