Friday, January 23, 2009
fdsg hate titles @ 2:13 PM
I haven't slept since I woke up at 3pm on Wednesday afternoon. While it was all good and lovely at first, right now it kinda bothers me because I sadly am forced to go to work tonight to participate in a photoshoot.Yeah. A Photoshoot. On no sleep. Probably looking cracked out.FTL.I don't know, I get ahold of those pictures before anyone else first cause I get to be the one to put them on the stupid website, so I can always attempt to edit my cracked out-ness.... but IDK if it'll work or not. Never took pics like this.Videos, yes. Videos I wish I never did take because I didn't know how fucked up I looked until I wasn't and watched it back. Its funny cause you always think your acting normal and your just not.IDK. Maybe I shouldn't go. But I do need money, have to pay my room this week, and I am thus far... $200 short. Well, that is if I ever get my fucking check cashed. But then again, I don't have to pay it until Monday. So ugh.I swear to fucking god this dope is never ending. I get some Wednesday before work because I had a rough night the night before, but really needed to be awake to work.I order $20, pay for $20, get a $50 because apparently my new dealer is fucking awesome, and gave me more because his last batch was kinda bunk.But seriously, $50 used to last me a day. ONE DAY. How in the fuck am I on day three and at the rate this shit is going, I could probably still be up for another two.And I can't just stop doing it. IDK if any of you have done it before, but coming down is the worst feeling in the world. The only time people will let themselves go through that much pain and sickness is when they run out.Either that or their body finally collapses and falls out. That's usually better. Well, I like it better anyway. I sleep for like 24 hours after that.Blah, drugs suck. This shit needs to finished.LOL I kind of find this funny. Here I am, I have the best dope I've gotten in awhile. Burns slow, lasts long, isn't making me grind my teeth, I can still eat on it (maybe not as much as I usually can, but I can eat a small meal) and I can take a short nap for like an hour every now and then. I don't feel horrible. I just feel... unmotivated. I suppose.In other news, I finished my website. Finally...http://beth-riesgraf.info/I was having some issues with the domain earlier, but its all cool now. So yay. MaryWIN.Also, for any of you that actually looked at what I did via the last post... I've been requested to do more, so I am. & they got worse. So so soooo much worse. But I love them. They're so twisted and perverted and fucked up and it makes me LOL.UGH. I wanna take a fucking nap. Work bad. Sleep good.Work bad. Sleep good.Fucking blah. You know my cats are eating dog food? Yeah, apparently the stupid store decided to stock 476384 thinsg of dog food, and no cat food... but yet cat litter. I'm like wtf dude. SRSLY.Fuck all the bullshit, I need to eat something before I die. The end.Labels: beth riesgraf, dope, drugs, meth, website design, work
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
i hate subject lines @ 12:43 AM
I tried an experiment yesterday.The thing is, I really don't EVER want to upload hundreds or thousands of fucking pictures one by one. That just sucks. Very much so.Though, after I uploaded all the award shows/premiers photos, leverage promotional photos, and leverage behind the scenes photos of Beth I was like wait a minute.The entire reason I can't bulk upload files is due to them blocking the port on their wireless modem, right? Well, dial up doesn't use that.Yeah, I shuddered at those words too. Dial up...However, I was correct in thinking my FTP would work with dial up. It's painfully PAINFULLY much slower than I'm used to my FTPs working, but it's less time consuming then uploading them one by one. I've uploaded most all of them except the last two episodes that aired. I'm uploading The Wedding Job right now before I do The Stork Job, because even though it came after it, The Stork Job has close to 400 screencaps of Beth cause it's a very Parker-centric episode, so I'm going to upload those while I sleep cause it's gonna take a couple hours. What I did with The Nigerian Job last night.Steve (my friend/customer/minion) is going to buy the domain name for me, because apparently no one can get off their dope fucked asses to drive me to cash my stupid check, let alone have me put the money on a freaking prepaid credit card. Two days of "oh yeah we'll be over" and then just NOT.I'm slightly convinced the people of Leverage and TNT probably think I'm so wacked out stalker Beth fan, which while is highly annoying because I'm not, there's nothing I can do about that. If ya'll haven't noticed, I tend to have a thing for under appreciated talented actresses. Like Hudson for example. Hudson's still my favorite actress by far, but do I stalk her? No. Why? Probably because half the time I'm not even sure if I want to be in the same vicinity as her because I tend to get lectured about something everytime I am lol. She's like a fusion between my mother and my sister, the way she lectures me. It sounds odd, but you wouldn't get it unless you knew my mother and sister lol. I still love Hudson though, don't get me wrong, the woman has taught me more in this life than most other people I've come across. But I concider her an "unappreciated talented actress" because 98% of the time when I say "Hudson Leick" people are like "Who?" and then I gotta say "Callisto from Xena" and then get a "duhh" kind of look from them to which I have to explain, "The blonde psychotic bitch that always wanted to kill Xena and had rocks fall on her head all the time." The people are like "OHHHH!!"And Beth is more under appreciated than Hudson is. My website is going to be the ONLY fansite out there for her once it's launched. THE ONLY FREAKING ONE.Granted, to be fair, this is her first big role. On a side note, I'm half convinced her first role was actually a artistic hardcore porn film, and it's driving me insane because I can't figure it out. Not that my reason (or my main reason anyway - I am only human after all) is to watch it just cause she's all naked and possibly doing icky het things in it, but because on the header in the welcome message on every page it says that was her first role, which while it WAS, I just don't much want to advertise her porn on there as her first role, even if it is artistically done or whatever. I really did think it was just a movie until I read someones comment on the film, and now I'm not so sure.But oh well, until I find out that it is in fact porn, it's staying up there. The website is going to be launched in a day or two, hopefully. It depends on how long it takes for the domain name to take effect after Steve buys it, I can't remember.Now, on to something about Leverage that slightly intrigues me, are you ready for this? This will blow your mind if you know anything about me and my fandoms.In every fandom that I have, I usually like one or two couples, always femslash. BTVS... Buffy/Faith. X:WP... Xena/Gabrielle, Eve/Varia. Bones.... Brennan/Angela. You get the idea. Mainly, that's the only fanfiction I write/read/give half a fuck about. Everything else gets passed by without a second glance.Leverage is very different. Not exactly sure why either lol.I read solo Parker fanfics(which doesn't mean masturbation you dirty minded people lol)/general fanfics.I read/write Parker/Sophie.I read/will be writing soon Parker/Eliot - cause they are the prettiest het couple ever lol.I read Parker/Hardison.I read Hardison/Eliot.And the het and slash fics.. I'll read the NC-17. It's slightly hard to get through during those parts, but I'll effing read it.While my first try at writing het sex occurred in a very short scene in "Path of Forgiveness", I'll probably be trying my hand at Parker/Eliot. First I wanna write a PG-13 one, just to kind of get the hang of trying to picture het in my head while I write, but I think they're gonna break my het sex cherry fully.I don't think I'll ever write boyslash. I can't relate to any of that lmao.But it kind of nice, to actually enjoy the ENTIRE fandom, instead of just bits which I usually do.This fucking show better be on the air for a very long time. NOW! Onto comments....v1cious said...lol was the food free?also, i noticed your recent entry was on Friday. does that mean you haven't been using at all, or just as of yesterday. either way, it's good that you're making progress. have you considered a daytime activity, like maybe a second job part-time college classes? that would keep you active.I wish, but no lol.At the time, it meant that I wasn't using at all. My days are a little screwy, and right now even though it's 3:16am on Tuesday, I still consider it Monday because I haven't slept yet. My days start later than everyone elses haha.I did, however use yesterday. I didn't buy, and no one came over and gave me any, but you'd be surprised how much fucking dope was stuck in all three of my pipes. It got me decently high, and I was able to finally stop procrastinating about the gallery. I needed to do that, and I knew I wasn't going to be able to do unless I was high cause it sucks configuring that thing and I get frustrated easily, especially because I was trying to incorporate something new into it, which I guess ya'll will see when I launch the website.As for me getting active... why would I want to do that? I'm sure in the spring/summer when I get manic I'll be doing all sorts of stuff, but I'm in the depression part where no, I don't get sad, I just don't ever want to leave my house and do, well, anything. Like work. I have to drag my ass to work just to get there one or two days a week. When I get manic I'll be going four or five times a week. It's just a thing that happens every year. Also during that time I probably won't be writing much either.And I don't do college, nor probably ever will. I find it stupid to spend ridiculous amounts of money on learning stuff I can just teach myself/have taught myself already.kelly said...funny how the world works in your favor sometimes.I'm slightly confused by this. The world works in my favor because I got my name written on my food box? lol. Labels: beth riesgraf, dial up, dope, fanfiction, leverage, parker, website design
Friday, January 16, 2009
feigning @ 10:15 AM
A million things to do. A million more I could do. A shaky hand reaches for the pack of cigarettes in front of me and I flick the lighter a couple time to make it produce a flame something close to useable. A glance over at the purse on the coffee table as I take my first inhale. I close my eyes, trying to calm down. I was beating this before, wasn't I? A flash to Wednesday night."Hey, you got any shit?"I look up at the dancer in front of me, "I... no. I haven't felt the need to.""Can you get some?""Yeah, I cam make some calls for you." Temptation. Oh, the temptation. Half of me decided to get some for myself. Fortunately, everyone was tapped out that night.Get drunk, go home, pass out. Forget the temptation. I'm okay, it was just because the opportunity was there. I'm a sucker for opportunity.Flash to Thursday afternoon. Nap time. The phone goes off, once, twice. Finally on the third time I get annoyed and drag myself out of bed."WHAT? I was fucking sleeping." Is how I answer it after I see who's calling."We're coming over, people are meeting us over there in a couple hours." [edited to removed names]"What? No, my house is a fucking disaster.""Then clean it.""Fuck, fine. Jesus, what is this, a huge dope meeting?""Yeah, pretty much."Half awake, freaking out making my house presentable for company for an hour or two. The phone rings again."Nevermind, we gotta go back home to the kids.""Are you FUCKING kidding me? I just cleaned my entire goddamn house!""Sorry, go back to bed."Aggravated sigh. I can't sleep now. My minds on dope. Back to the computer, do something fandom related, it'll keep my mind off of it.A chapter written of my Parker/Sophie fan fiction. It was painful to get through, and didn't enjoy writing it at all. I'm having a problem now, I can see it. I knew this was going to happen.I finally sleep, though I'm up at 6:30am. How did I fuck up my sleep this much? I used to never see daylight.Something else. Do something, anything. Find a way to contact Beth, there we go. Hours of searching, nothing but her Scientology courses she completed and a website that's entitled "Beth Riesgraf Photography". You need a password to get in it. I think I remember reading somewhere that she did photography, I couldn't remember.I had the thought to try to bypass the password, hack it somehow, just to do something to keep my mind off things. But I've never been able to hack anything in my life. My skills with a computer don't reach that kind of level. I'm no Hardison.Yeah, I would just make a Leverage reference.Maybe she has her photography somewhere else, it's worth a shot. So I type in [something, I wont say cause I don't think I should have been able to do this] into my searchbar, and accidently find the backdoor into her website without needing a password. Whoops, but oh well.Click on it, one album, nothing else. Nothing to even confirm that it's actually the right Beth Riesgraf I'm looking for either. I give up, forget it. I've never tried to try to contact an actress before, and I am finding this far too difficult to do. I had half a thought to just create my own fansite, fuck the official title, but I still don't have nearly enough information on the woman to attempt it.Dope, I need dope. Phone call. They'll be over in a couple hours.Fuck it. I need to be able to think again. I need to stop shaking and scratching myself. I need to be able to get shit done, and I can't do it like this anymore. I lasted I think a week and a half or two weeks this time. I can't remember. But I'm getting better, slowly.Labels: addiction, beth riesgraf, dope, leverage, meth, strippers
Monday, December 01, 2008
texting is the number one way to communicate @ 3:02 AM
Fourteen Missed Calls. Three new voicemails. Four new text messages.
For the love of hell, I can't even sleep a measly six hours without the whole world crashing down. Granted it may have been my fault for going to sleep at eleven in the morning, instead of the usual four, but regardless, it's like people think I won't keep in touch with them if I'm left to my own devices for too long.
The majority of the missed calls are from Alex. I vaguely remember the phone going off in the middle of my dreams of purple hamsters, and my automatic reaction to pressing the silent key. I look down the list, she seemed to have called almost ten times in a row. I text her, worried slightly.
"Hey I have a bunch of missed calls, is everything okay?"
"Ya I was checking on you." I get back, less than a minute later.
See? What did I tell you? Even my friends feel the need to call ten times in a row just to check on me, to make sure that I either haven't made camp in my delusions and said adios to reality or that I didn't say fuck the world and made some dramatic suicidal gesture that will be sure to make the morning papers.
Something suddenly feels wet between my thighs. Well okay, that's odd, I figure to myself. Considering I remember my dream consisted of a purple hampster, I don't think that would have made me horny in my sleep. I stick my hand down my pants to check, which is lady like, I know. My hand comes out bloody.
As disgusted as I was by that stupid move on my own part, it also made me kind of confused. Usually days before my period I know it's coming, and hell whenever I start I'm usually in so much pain I can barely move and I'm cursing my own existance in this world for hours at a time. But I felt nothing... at all. For the first time in my life in almost ten years I had no cramps, just blood.
Alex sends me another text, asking me if I ate today, I reply with no, but I just started started m rag and have no toilet paper and only one tampon. Which, unfortutanly, is very true. I had to clean myself up with a mcdonalds napkin and shove the cotten phalis in me to stop my unfortunate curse of womanhood I get monthly. This is what my life had become, ladies and gentleman.
Alex tells me shes on her way with toilet paper and tampons.
This is why I love my friends, really.
I have texts from my sister, asking me to call her. I want to, but on the other hand I don't. Part of me doesn't want to face the decisions I'm going to have to make sooner or later. And at the moment, I chose later.
I have a text from my old dope dealer, which aggrivates me slightly.
"What up? I got better and I owe u."
Damn right you owe me mother fucker, the last shit you gave me was crap. But I don't text back, I ignore it, as hard as that is to do.
Later on in the evening, Alex and John take me to Kroger to go pick up my money at Western Union that my mother sent me.
"Maybe I should pick up some groceries, it'll be less money than buying fast food all the time."
I haven't had groceries since I lived on my own, in my own apartment, when everything in my life was going right. It was an odd sensation, grocery shopping again. I actually got sort of giddy. I ran around the store with my cart and jumped up and down and had fun trying to find sales. I could tell it amused Alex, me finding such a small joy in such a simple thing as grocery shopping.
I get another text from my Mom, and I forgot the deal she made with me for giving me this money was that we would talk every day.
"WHERE R U MY MARY? CALL ASAP NEED 2 TALK."
I sigh, it's a sad day when my mom texts. She types like a twelve year old girl. I call my mom, she askes if I'm okay and got the money. I tell her yes, and yes. She tells me to call my sister, I say I will when I'm done shopping.
But then I'm back in my room, alone, with all my food, watching "The Lord of The Rings: Return of the King" on TNT and now I suddenly remember why I don't do the grocery shopping thing. When I have food in the house, I tend to want to eat... well... everything.
Donuts, cocoa, candy, crackers, a sandwich, icecream.
And I wonder why I never lost a significant amount of weight during my meth habit. Whenever I was sober, I would eat like a starving child from Etheopia.
I'm still supposed to be calling my sister. I procrastinate, and call my brother.
"Mom told me to tell you Shaya's waiting up for your phone call tonight."
Damnit. I'm starting to get sleepy, so I text my sister and tell her I'll call her when I wake up. She tells me she'll wait up until one. I wake up at two, and text her an apology. I have to call her when I wake up later in the afternoon, I can't keep blowing her off like this.
I have another text from my neice Nicole.
"I love you and you always have my support. See you soon. I'll help with the ticket if I need too."
I don't text back. It's a fucked up hour of the night anyway. But I feel bad. I already owe her $100, the last thing I want is to owe her more money. My debts to people have already surpassed a grand, and I'm not liking it very much. I feel like a failure, and it makes me slightly angry, and very much self loathing.
There's nothing to do anymore by myself that I find fun anymore. I watch TV, and try to get on the computer. I try to find another place to host my videos since YouTube decided to fuck up everything and ban me from the website, which I keep having mixed feelings about. But I get bored with it, with the internet, with the thing that used to keep me entertained for hours at a time. Back to the tv. Get bored. Back to the computer. Get even more bored. Back to the TV. It's never ending.
I can't even find joy in anything anymore, it seems. I feel like I'm just sitting here, wasting my life away, and I am. I wish I could find one thing, just one thing, that I could find joy in and escape from reality... but I just can't.
I'm just part of the scenery now.Labels: depression, dope, friends, groceries, money, periods, sadness, shopping, text messaging
Sunday, November 30, 2008
what came first... the psychosis or the drugs? @ 4:32 AM
I sat on the couch in my small, mismatched, tacky motel room that I was forced to call home. I had taken the comforter off my bed, and curled myself up into a ball as I watched mindlessly the TV that was on at three am. Roseanne, I believe that it was. They had won the lottery, like that was realistic. Fuck, I would love to win the lottery right now. I could at least pretend all my problems could go away with money, and fake happiness for a little while.
Rich people are always great at that, faking happiness. Hell, if I was rich I could just be on some permanent roll and then I'll never be unhappy. Then again, I'd probably never have the patience to ever do anything productive again, because the first bright shiny pretty thing that went past me would have my attention for six hours. Or I could be logical, and realize at some point I would probably OD and die, but then hey, then I'd be dead and dead people can't be unhappy.
Or can they?
My cat Nemesis was perched above my head, making small little whines to point out the fact that I haven't given her enough attention recently. I lift my hand up to her head, more to shut her up than to actually comfort her, and stoke her soft fur was I try not to think about the fact that I'm most likely going to be homeless come Monday at noon.
Some Christmas commercial comes on, and I start crying. I haven't cried this much since I was sixteen and thought life was hell because I was grounded and couldn't use the computer to do my role playing and escape from reality. Sometimes I wish I could still do that, but I think my brain lacks that kind of focus now.
I start thinking about last Christmas. I has my own apartment, I had money coming out the ass, so much I didn't know what to do with it. I bought everyone great gifts, I bought my own plane ticket home, I was happy.
Money does equal happiness, isn't that ridiculous?
How the hell did I get here? How did I get from having everything to being here, with nothing? Not even enough money to buy myself something from McDonalds dollar menu, and not even having the mindset to be able to work.
At least last year when I went through these phases I had thousands of dollars saved up and I could afford fucking off for long periods of time while my brain battled itself and I fought my way away from the razor blades and the pills trying to pretend I actually have something worth living for.
I'm crying harder now, I wish I could just get myself together and go to work and function like a normal human being. But this week had fucked with me, fucked with me more than I thought it would have. I was happy a week ago, wasn't I?
Load up the dope and smoke the pipe. How did I end up at a crack house?
"You want a cap?"
"That would be lovely."
I had never done GHB before, why did I say yes? I was already high from the dope, but who's to turn down good hospitality?
Then suddenly we're all rollin' too... more hospitality I couldn't turn down. I feel lovely, and I want to breed with the pretty light thing I decided was my best friend in the world.
We were supposed to be there only a night, we were there for maybe two, three? I can't remember. It felt like forever, I never slept.
Then suddenly everyone's conspiring against me. Fear grips my chest and my heart is pouding and I think everyone's out to kill me. I don't know where I am, I don't have a way to get home, my cell phone is dead, I have no money, I'm so high....
"YOU LIAR! I HEARD YOU SAY IT!"
I'm freaking out. My knifes my my hand, I'm sweating, I'm trying to breath properly. I keep hearing all of them outside the room, talking to each other, deciding on a way to get rid of me properly. I realize I'm going to have to kill someone before someone kills me.
"That crack whore believes me, I'll take care of it."
I keep hearing things, they sound so real, they are real to me. I think my friends are trying to kill me, even though they keep telling me I'm being paranoid.
You can't be paranoid when you actually hear them.
I'm home finally, safe. But I hear the bounty hunters outside my door. My knife is my hand, my eye is gued to the peephole. I hear them, they're there. They're waiting for me.
I hear a woman's voice in my closet, they're already in my room.
I can't breathe, I'm not safe. I'm not safe anywhere.
Charlie keeps looking at me. At least, I think that's what his name is. He never speaks, he just sands there in my living room, a boy no more than eight, and just stares. He looks so sad. Go away Charlie, I can't help you right now.
"THERE'S BUGS! THERE'S BUGS EVERYWHERE!"
I'm on the phone with my best friend. She tells me I'm hallucinating, by this time I'm sure I am. I'm sure none of this is real, but that doesn't make it go away. I hadn't taken any drugs in over twenty-four hours, why am I going crazy?
Open google.
P-A-R-A-N-O-I-D.
S-C-H-I-Z-O-P-H-R-E-N-I-A.
I start crying, my life is over. I could deal with the doctors telling me I'm bipolar, I can't deal with skizophrenia.
I want to go get evaluated. I want to know if it's real, even though looking at it made more sense to me than bipolar ever did. But if I get evaluated, I get thrown in the loony bin, and where will my cats go? Where will all my things go? My cats are my children... Phoenix, Hades, Nemesis... they're the reason I have any sort of responsibility left in me. I get away from the crack houses because I have to feed my cats...
My mother's on my phone. Arguing with me, telling me my skizophrenia is drug induced, and it makes me angry.
"So basically my drug use before was in response to me being bipolar but now that I might be schizophrenic it's only because of the drugs?!"
So what came first... the psychosis or the drugs?
Mother doesn't understand... this fits much more than bipolar ever did. And while my first psychiatric episode might have been triggered by the drugs, it doesn't change the symptoms I had before I even got into drugs.
"You need to get off the drugs."
"NO THE MORE PRESSING MATTER IS WHERE THE FUCK I'M GONNA LIVE COME A DAY AND A HALF!!"
I hang up on her, she's stressing me out. She's not listening. Not helping.
My brother calls me. David, who will probably be the only one I can talk to about this without the need to freak out.
He's got some odd tone in his voice, I can't place it. He's worried, like I'm some breakable thing or something. I don't like it. He keeps telling me that I need to figure out something to do. He doesn't understand that I can't think, I can't make a decision, someone else needs to.
"Your sounding like Mom, only a tad less annoying."
"Thanks, I'm glad you just compared me to Mom, Mary."
No problem. Hang up the phone. Go to sleep. Gotta run away from everything. Again and again and again....
The TV keeps making me cry, it's five in the morning, no one's awake. I call Mom anyway, cry some more.
After awhile, she gets the I need stability first before I decide what to do with the drugs, and my craziness, and whatever else needs to be fixed.
Mother is sending me $300. Money she can't afford to send. I feel like a loser, I'm almost to pushing a grand that I owe her now. I don't like being on this end of things. I liked it better when I had money. Fuck this economy, it's ruining my life.
I keep realizing how messed up my brain is becoming. Sometimes I can think and analyze and go over everything with all the details, not missing a second.... and then other times I'm sparatic, only pointing out major details and having a hard time describing anything. I was fine at first, where did my brain go? I feel lost again, damnit.
How do I fix this problem? How do I even make it feel like life is worth living? Whether I stay here, go home, go to my sister in Atlanta... it all just seems like it's going to be the same.
The same bullshit over and over and over again.
I wish I had the desire to get high, maybe I could feel normal again. I feel so high right now... and I've been sober for a long time......
Labels: delusions, depression, dope, drugs, ghb, hallucinations, meth, paranoia, schizophrenia, x
Friday, January 23, 2009
fdsg hate titles @ 2:13 PM
I haven't slept since I woke up at 3pm on Wednesday afternoon. While it was all good and lovely at first, right now it kinda bothers me because I sadly am forced to go to work tonight to participate in a photoshoot.Yeah. A Photoshoot. On no sleep. Probably looking cracked out.FTL.I don't know, I get ahold of those pictures before anyone else first cause I get to be the one to put them on the stupid website, so I can always attempt to edit my cracked out-ness.... but IDK if it'll work or not. Never took pics like this.Videos, yes. Videos I wish I never did take because I didn't know how fucked up I looked until I wasn't and watched it back. Its funny cause you always think your acting normal and your just not.IDK. Maybe I shouldn't go. But I do need money, have to pay my room this week, and I am thus far... $200 short. Well, that is if I ever get my fucking check cashed. But then again, I don't have to pay it until Monday. So ugh.I swear to fucking god this dope is never ending. I get some Wednesday before work because I had a rough night the night before, but really needed to be awake to work.I order $20, pay for $20, get a $50 because apparently my new dealer is fucking awesome, and gave me more because his last batch was kinda bunk.But seriously, $50 used to last me a day. ONE DAY. How in the fuck am I on day three and at the rate this shit is going, I could probably still be up for another two.And I can't just stop doing it. IDK if any of you have done it before, but coming down is the worst feeling in the world. The only time people will let themselves go through that much pain and sickness is when they run out.Either that or their body finally collapses and falls out. That's usually better. Well, I like it better anyway. I sleep for like 24 hours after that.Blah, drugs suck. This shit needs to finished.LOL I kind of find this funny. Here I am, I have the best dope I've gotten in awhile. Burns slow, lasts long, isn't making me grind my teeth, I can still eat on it (maybe not as much as I usually can, but I can eat a small meal) and I can take a short nap for like an hour every now and then. I don't feel horrible. I just feel... unmotivated. I suppose.In other news, I finished my website. Finally...http://beth-riesgraf.info/I was having some issues with the domain earlier, but its all cool now. So yay. MaryWIN.Also, for any of you that actually looked at what I did via the last post... I've been requested to do more, so I am. & they got worse. So so soooo much worse. But I love them. They're so twisted and perverted and fucked up and it makes me LOL.UGH. I wanna take a fucking nap. Work bad. Sleep good.Work bad. Sleep good.Fucking blah. You know my cats are eating dog food? Yeah, apparently the stupid store decided to stock 476384 thinsg of dog food, and no cat food... but yet cat litter. I'm like wtf dude. SRSLY.Fuck all the bullshit, I need to eat something before I die. The end.Labels: beth riesgraf, dope, drugs, meth, website design, work
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
i hate subject lines @ 12:43 AM
I tried an experiment yesterday.The thing is, I really don't EVER want to upload hundreds or thousands of fucking pictures one by one. That just sucks. Very much so.Though, after I uploaded all the award shows/premiers photos, leverage promotional photos, and leverage behind the scenes photos of Beth I was like wait a minute.The entire reason I can't bulk upload files is due to them blocking the port on their wireless modem, right? Well, dial up doesn't use that.Yeah, I shuddered at those words too. Dial up...However, I was correct in thinking my FTP would work with dial up. It's painfully PAINFULLY much slower than I'm used to my FTPs working, but it's less time consuming then uploading them one by one. I've uploaded most all of them except the last two episodes that aired. I'm uploading The Wedding Job right now before I do The Stork Job, because even though it came after it, The Stork Job has close to 400 screencaps of Beth cause it's a very Parker-centric episode, so I'm going to upload those while I sleep cause it's gonna take a couple hours. What I did with The Nigerian Job last night.Steve (my friend/customer/minion) is going to buy the domain name for me, because apparently no one can get off their dope fucked asses to drive me to cash my stupid check, let alone have me put the money on a freaking prepaid credit card. Two days of "oh yeah we'll be over" and then just NOT.I'm slightly convinced the people of Leverage and TNT probably think I'm so wacked out stalker Beth fan, which while is highly annoying because I'm not, there's nothing I can do about that. If ya'll haven't noticed, I tend to have a thing for under appreciated talented actresses. Like Hudson for example. Hudson's still my favorite actress by far, but do I stalk her? No. Why? Probably because half the time I'm not even sure if I want to be in the same vicinity as her because I tend to get lectured about something everytime I am lol. She's like a fusion between my mother and my sister, the way she lectures me. It sounds odd, but you wouldn't get it unless you knew my mother and sister lol. I still love Hudson though, don't get me wrong, the woman has taught me more in this life than most other people I've come across. But I concider her an "unappreciated talented actress" because 98% of the time when I say "Hudson Leick" people are like "Who?" and then I gotta say "Callisto from Xena" and then get a "duhh" kind of look from them to which I have to explain, "The blonde psychotic bitch that always wanted to kill Xena and had rocks fall on her head all the time." The people are like "OHHHH!!"And Beth is more under appreciated than Hudson is. My website is going to be the ONLY fansite out there for her once it's launched. THE ONLY FREAKING ONE.Granted, to be fair, this is her first big role. On a side note, I'm half convinced her first role was actually a artistic hardcore porn film, and it's driving me insane because I can't figure it out. Not that my reason (or my main reason anyway - I am only human after all) is to watch it just cause she's all naked and possibly doing icky het things in it, but because on the header in the welcome message on every page it says that was her first role, which while it WAS, I just don't much want to advertise her porn on there as her first role, even if it is artistically done or whatever. I really did think it was just a movie until I read someones comment on the film, and now I'm not so sure.But oh well, until I find out that it is in fact porn, it's staying up there. The website is going to be launched in a day or two, hopefully. It depends on how long it takes for the domain name to take effect after Steve buys it, I can't remember.Now, on to something about Leverage that slightly intrigues me, are you ready for this? This will blow your mind if you know anything about me and my fandoms.In every fandom that I have, I usually like one or two couples, always femslash. BTVS... Buffy/Faith. X:WP... Xena/Gabrielle, Eve/Varia. Bones.... Brennan/Angela. You get the idea. Mainly, that's the only fanfiction I write/read/give half a fuck about. Everything else gets passed by without a second glance.Leverage is very different. Not exactly sure why either lol.I read solo Parker fanfics(which doesn't mean masturbation you dirty minded people lol)/general fanfics.I read/write Parker/Sophie.I read/will be writing soon Parker/Eliot - cause they are the prettiest het couple ever lol.I read Parker/Hardison.I read Hardison/Eliot.And the het and slash fics.. I'll read the NC-17. It's slightly hard to get through during those parts, but I'll effing read it.While my first try at writing het sex occurred in a very short scene in "Path of Forgiveness", I'll probably be trying my hand at Parker/Eliot. First I wanna write a PG-13 one, just to kind of get the hang of trying to picture het in my head while I write, but I think they're gonna break my het sex cherry fully.I don't think I'll ever write boyslash. I can't relate to any of that lmao.But it kind of nice, to actually enjoy the ENTIRE fandom, instead of just bits which I usually do.This fucking show better be on the air for a very long time. NOW! Onto comments....v1cious said...lol was the food free?also, i noticed your recent entry was on Friday. does that mean you haven't been using at all, or just as of yesterday. either way, it's good that you're making progress. have you considered a daytime activity, like maybe a second job part-time college classes? that would keep you active.I wish, but no lol.At the time, it meant that I wasn't using at all. My days are a little screwy, and right now even though it's 3:16am on Tuesday, I still consider it Monday because I haven't slept yet. My days start later than everyone elses haha.I did, however use yesterday. I didn't buy, and no one came over and gave me any, but you'd be surprised how much fucking dope was stuck in all three of my pipes. It got me decently high, and I was able to finally stop procrastinating about the gallery. I needed to do that, and I knew I wasn't going to be able to do unless I was high cause it sucks configuring that thing and I get frustrated easily, especially because I was trying to incorporate something new into it, which I guess ya'll will see when I launch the website.As for me getting active... why would I want to do that? I'm sure in the spring/summer when I get manic I'll be doing all sorts of stuff, but I'm in the depression part where no, I don't get sad, I just don't ever want to leave my house and do, well, anything. Like work. I have to drag my ass to work just to get there one or two days a week. When I get manic I'll be going four or five times a week. It's just a thing that happens every year. Also during that time I probably won't be writing much either.And I don't do college, nor probably ever will. I find it stupid to spend ridiculous amounts of money on learning stuff I can just teach myself/have taught myself already.kelly said...funny how the world works in your favor sometimes.I'm slightly confused by this. The world works in my favor because I got my name written on my food box? lol. Labels: beth riesgraf, dial up, dope, fanfiction, leverage, parker, website design
Friday, January 16, 2009
feigning @ 10:15 AM
A million things to do. A million more I could do. A shaky hand reaches for the pack of cigarettes in front of me and I flick the lighter a couple time to make it produce a flame something close to useable. A glance over at the purse on the coffee table as I take my first inhale. I close my eyes, trying to calm down. I was beating this before, wasn't I? A flash to Wednesday night."Hey, you got any shit?"I look up at the dancer in front of me, "I... no. I haven't felt the need to.""Can you get some?""Yeah, I cam make some calls for you." Temptation. Oh, the temptation. Half of me decided to get some for myself. Fortunately, everyone was tapped out that night.Get drunk, go home, pass out. Forget the temptation. I'm okay, it was just because the opportunity was there. I'm a sucker for opportunity.Flash to Thursday afternoon. Nap time. The phone goes off, once, twice. Finally on the third time I get annoyed and drag myself out of bed."WHAT? I was fucking sleeping." Is how I answer it after I see who's calling."We're coming over, people are meeting us over there in a couple hours." [edited to removed names]"What? No, my house is a fucking disaster.""Then clean it.""Fuck, fine. Jesus, what is this, a huge dope meeting?""Yeah, pretty much."Half awake, freaking out making my house presentable for company for an hour or two. The phone rings again."Nevermind, we gotta go back home to the kids.""Are you FUCKING kidding me? I just cleaned my entire goddamn house!""Sorry, go back to bed."Aggravated sigh. I can't sleep now. My minds on dope. Back to the computer, do something fandom related, it'll keep my mind off of it.A chapter written of my Parker/Sophie fan fiction. It was painful to get through, and didn't enjoy writing it at all. I'm having a problem now, I can see it. I knew this was going to happen.I finally sleep, though I'm up at 6:30am. How did I fuck up my sleep this much? I used to never see daylight.Something else. Do something, anything. Find a way to contact Beth, there we go. Hours of searching, nothing but her Scientology courses she completed and a website that's entitled "Beth Riesgraf Photography". You need a password to get in it. I think I remember reading somewhere that she did photography, I couldn't remember.I had the thought to try to bypass the password, hack it somehow, just to do something to keep my mind off things. But I've never been able to hack anything in my life. My skills with a computer don't reach that kind of level. I'm no Hardison.Yeah, I would just make a Leverage reference.Maybe she has her photography somewhere else, it's worth a shot. So I type in [something, I wont say cause I don't think I should have been able to do this] into my searchbar, and accidently find the backdoor into her website without needing a password. Whoops, but oh well.Click on it, one album, nothing else. Nothing to even confirm that it's actually the right Beth Riesgraf I'm looking for either. I give up, forget it. I've never tried to try to contact an actress before, and I am finding this far too difficult to do. I had half a thought to just create my own fansite, fuck the official title, but I still don't have nearly enough information on the woman to attempt it.Dope, I need dope. Phone call. They'll be over in a couple hours.Fuck it. I need to be able to think again. I need to stop shaking and scratching myself. I need to be able to get shit done, and I can't do it like this anymore. I lasted I think a week and a half or two weeks this time. I can't remember. But I'm getting better, slowly.Labels: addiction, beth riesgraf, dope, leverage, meth, strippers
Monday, December 01, 2008
texting is the number one way to communicate @ 3:02 AM
Fourteen Missed Calls. Three new voicemails. Four new text messages.
For the love of hell, I can't even sleep a measly six hours without the whole world crashing down. Granted it may have been my fault for going to sleep at eleven in the morning, instead of the usual four, but regardless, it's like people think I won't keep in touch with them if I'm left to my own devices for too long.
The majority of the missed calls are from Alex. I vaguely remember the phone going off in the middle of my dreams of purple hamsters, and my automatic reaction to pressing the silent key. I look down the list, she seemed to have called almost ten times in a row. I text her, worried slightly.
"Hey I have a bunch of missed calls, is everything okay?"
"Ya I was checking on you." I get back, less than a minute later.
See? What did I tell you? Even my friends feel the need to call ten times in a row just to check on me, to make sure that I either haven't made camp in my delusions and said adios to reality or that I didn't say fuck the world and made some dramatic suicidal gesture that will be sure to make the morning papers.
Something suddenly feels wet between my thighs. Well okay, that's odd, I figure to myself. Considering I remember my dream consisted of a purple hampster, I don't think that would have made me horny in my sleep. I stick my hand down my pants to check, which is lady like, I know. My hand comes out bloody.
As disgusted as I was by that stupid move on my own part, it also made me kind of confused. Usually days before my period I know it's coming, and hell whenever I start I'm usually in so much pain I can barely move and I'm cursing my own existance in this world for hours at a time. But I felt nothing... at all. For the first time in my life in almost ten years I had no cramps, just blood.
Alex sends me another text, asking me if I ate today, I reply with no, but I just started started m rag and have no toilet paper and only one tampon. Which, unfortutanly, is very true. I had to clean myself up with a mcdonalds napkin and shove the cotten phalis in me to stop my unfortunate curse of womanhood I get monthly. This is what my life had become, ladies and gentleman.
Alex tells me shes on her way with toilet paper and tampons.
This is why I love my friends, really.
I have texts from my sister, asking me to call her. I want to, but on the other hand I don't. Part of me doesn't want to face the decisions I'm going to have to make sooner or later. And at the moment, I chose later.
I have a text from my old dope dealer, which aggrivates me slightly.
"What up? I got better and I owe u."
Damn right you owe me mother fucker, the last shit you gave me was crap. But I don't text back, I ignore it, as hard as that is to do.
Later on in the evening, Alex and John take me to Kroger to go pick up my money at Western Union that my mother sent me.
"Maybe I should pick up some groceries, it'll be less money than buying fast food all the time."
I haven't had groceries since I lived on my own, in my own apartment, when everything in my life was going right. It was an odd sensation, grocery shopping again. I actually got sort of giddy. I ran around the store with my cart and jumped up and down and had fun trying to find sales. I could tell it amused Alex, me finding such a small joy in such a simple thing as grocery shopping.
I get another text from my Mom, and I forgot the deal she made with me for giving me this money was that we would talk every day.
"WHERE R U MY MARY? CALL ASAP NEED 2 TALK."
I sigh, it's a sad day when my mom texts. She types like a twelve year old girl. I call my mom, she askes if I'm okay and got the money. I tell her yes, and yes. She tells me to call my sister, I say I will when I'm done shopping.
But then I'm back in my room, alone, with all my food, watching "The Lord of The Rings: Return of the King" on TNT and now I suddenly remember why I don't do the grocery shopping thing. When I have food in the house, I tend to want to eat... well... everything.
Donuts, cocoa, candy, crackers, a sandwich, icecream.
And I wonder why I never lost a significant amount of weight during my meth habit. Whenever I was sober, I would eat like a starving child from Etheopia.
I'm still supposed to be calling my sister. I procrastinate, and call my brother.
"Mom told me to tell you Shaya's waiting up for your phone call tonight."
Damnit. I'm starting to get sleepy, so I text my sister and tell her I'll call her when I wake up. She tells me she'll wait up until one. I wake up at two, and text her an apology. I have to call her when I wake up later in the afternoon, I can't keep blowing her off like this.
I have another text from my neice Nicole.
"I love you and you always have my support. See you soon. I'll help with the ticket if I need too."
I don't text back. It's a fucked up hour of the night anyway. But I feel bad. I already owe her $100, the last thing I want is to owe her more money. My debts to people have already surpassed a grand, and I'm not liking it very much. I feel like a failure, and it makes me slightly angry, and very much self loathing.
There's nothing to do anymore by myself that I find fun anymore. I watch TV, and try to get on the computer. I try to find another place to host my videos since YouTube decided to fuck up everything and ban me from the website, which I keep having mixed feelings about. But I get bored with it, with the internet, with the thing that used to keep me entertained for hours at a time. Back to the tv. Get bored. Back to the computer. Get even more bored. Back to the TV. It's never ending.
I can't even find joy in anything anymore, it seems. I feel like I'm just sitting here, wasting my life away, and I am. I wish I could find one thing, just one thing, that I could find joy in and escape from reality... but I just can't.
I'm just part of the scenery now.Labels: depression, dope, friends, groceries, money, periods, sadness, shopping, text messaging
Sunday, November 30, 2008
what came first... the psychosis or the drugs? @ 4:32 AM
I sat on the couch in my small, mismatched, tacky motel room that I was forced to call home. I had taken the comforter off my bed, and curled myself up into a ball as I watched mindlessly the TV that was on at three am. Roseanne, I believe that it was. They had won the lottery, like that was realistic. Fuck, I would love to win the lottery right now. I could at least pretend all my problems could go away with money, and fake happiness for a little while.
Rich people are always great at that, faking happiness. Hell, if I was rich I could just be on some permanent roll and then I'll never be unhappy. Then again, I'd probably never have the patience to ever do anything productive again, because the first bright shiny pretty thing that went past me would have my attention for six hours. Or I could be logical, and realize at some point I would probably OD and die, but then hey, then I'd be dead and dead people can't be unhappy.
Or can they?
My cat Nemesis was perched above my head, making small little whines to point out the fact that I haven't given her enough attention recently. I lift my hand up to her head, more to shut her up than to actually comfort her, and stoke her soft fur was I try not to think about the fact that I'm most likely going to be homeless come Monday at noon.
Some Christmas commercial comes on, and I start crying. I haven't cried this much since I was sixteen and thought life was hell because I was grounded and couldn't use the computer to do my role playing and escape from reality. Sometimes I wish I could still do that, but I think my brain lacks that kind of focus now.
I start thinking about last Christmas. I has my own apartment, I had money coming out the ass, so much I didn't know what to do with it. I bought everyone great gifts, I bought my own plane ticket home, I was happy.
Money does equal happiness, isn't that ridiculous?
How the hell did I get here? How did I get from having everything to being here, with nothing? Not even enough money to buy myself something from McDonalds dollar menu, and not even having the mindset to be able to work.
At least last year when I went through these phases I had thousands of dollars saved up and I could afford fucking off for long periods of time while my brain battled itself and I fought my way away from the razor blades and the pills trying to pretend I actually have something worth living for.
I'm crying harder now, I wish I could just get myself together and go to work and function like a normal human being. But this week had fucked with me, fucked with me more than I thought it would have. I was happy a week ago, wasn't I?
Load up the dope and smoke the pipe. How did I end up at a crack house?
"You want a cap?"
"That would be lovely."
I had never done GHB before, why did I say yes? I was already high from the dope, but who's to turn down good hospitality?
Then suddenly we're all rollin' too... more hospitality I couldn't turn down. I feel lovely, and I want to breed with the pretty light thing I decided was my best friend in the world.
We were supposed to be there only a night, we were there for maybe two, three? I can't remember. It felt like forever, I never slept.
Then suddenly everyone's conspiring against me. Fear grips my chest and my heart is pouding and I think everyone's out to kill me. I don't know where I am, I don't have a way to get home, my cell phone is dead, I have no money, I'm so high....
"YOU LIAR! I HEARD YOU SAY IT!"
I'm freaking out. My knifes my my hand, I'm sweating, I'm trying to breath properly. I keep hearing all of them outside the room, talking to each other, deciding on a way to get rid of me properly. I realize I'm going to have to kill someone before someone kills me.
"That crack whore believes me, I'll take care of it."
I keep hearing things, they sound so real, they are real to me. I think my friends are trying to kill me, even though they keep telling me I'm being paranoid.
You can't be paranoid when you actually hear them.
I'm home finally, safe. But I hear the bounty hunters outside my door. My knife is my hand, my eye is gued to the peephole. I hear them, they're there. They're waiting for me.
I hear a woman's voice in my closet, they're already in my room.
I can't breathe, I'm not safe. I'm not safe anywhere.
Charlie keeps looking at me. At least, I think that's what his name is. He never speaks, he just sands there in my living room, a boy no more than eight, and just stares. He looks so sad. Go away Charlie, I can't help you right now.
"THERE'S BUGS! THERE'S BUGS EVERYWHERE!"
I'm on the phone with my best friend. She tells me I'm hallucinating, by this time I'm sure I am. I'm sure none of this is real, but that doesn't make it go away. I hadn't taken any drugs in over twenty-four hours, why am I going crazy?
Open google.
P-A-R-A-N-O-I-D.
S-C-H-I-Z-O-P-H-R-E-N-I-A.
I start crying, my life is over. I could deal with the doctors telling me I'm bipolar, I can't deal with skizophrenia.
I want to go get evaluated. I want to know if it's real, even though looking at it made more sense to me than bipolar ever did. But if I get evaluated, I get thrown in the loony bin, and where will my cats go? Where will all my things go? My cats are my children... Phoenix, Hades, Nemesis... they're the reason I have any sort of responsibility left in me. I get away from the crack houses because I have to feed my cats...
My mother's on my phone. Arguing with me, telling me my skizophrenia is drug induced, and it makes me angry.
"So basically my drug use before was in response to me being bipolar but now that I might be schizophrenic it's only because of the drugs?!"
So what came first... the psychosis or the drugs?
Mother doesn't understand... this fits much more than bipolar ever did. And while my first psychiatric episode might have been triggered by the drugs, it doesn't change the symptoms I had before I even got into drugs.
"You need to get off the drugs."
"NO THE MORE PRESSING MATTER IS WHERE THE FUCK I'M GONNA LIVE COME A DAY AND A HALF!!"
I hang up on her, she's stressing me out. She's not listening. Not helping.
My brother calls me. David, who will probably be the only one I can talk to about this without the need to freak out.
He's got some odd tone in his voice, I can't place it. He's worried, like I'm some breakable thing or something. I don't like it. He keeps telling me that I need to figure out something to do. He doesn't understand that I can't think, I can't make a decision, someone else needs to.
"Your sounding like Mom, only a tad less annoying."
"Thanks, I'm glad you just compared me to Mom, Mary."
No problem. Hang up the phone. Go to sleep. Gotta run away from everything. Again and again and again....
The TV keeps making me cry, it's five in the morning, no one's awake. I call Mom anyway, cry some more.
After awhile, she gets the I need stability first before I decide what to do with the drugs, and my craziness, and whatever else needs to be fixed.
Mother is sending me $300. Money she can't afford to send. I feel like a loser, I'm almost to pushing a grand that I owe her now. I don't like being on this end of things. I liked it better when I had money. Fuck this economy, it's ruining my life.
I keep realizing how messed up my brain is becoming. Sometimes I can think and analyze and go over everything with all the details, not missing a second.... and then other times I'm sparatic, only pointing out major details and having a hard time describing anything. I was fine at first, where did my brain go? I feel lost again, damnit.
How do I fix this problem? How do I even make it feel like life is worth living? Whether I stay here, go home, go to my sister in Atlanta... it all just seems like it's going to be the same.
The same bullshit over and over and over again.
I wish I had the desire to get high, maybe I could feel normal again. I feel so high right now... and I've been sober for a long time......
Labels: delusions, depression, dope, drugs, ghb, hallucinations, meth, paranoia, schizophrenia, x
credits.
