plasticwrap

The Experiment Continues

It's been a week since the divorce with my parents, and things are settling down a bit. It might sound a bit strange, but I was really tense over this weekend. In the back of my mind I wondered if they would jump on the next plane down here when they got my letter. When that didn't happen, I worried that they were waiting for cheaper weekend flights (which would be their preference). But now it is Sunday night, and I can safely assume that they haven't done that either.

I kind of feel guilty for hoping they might come down... it genuinely wasn't a "cry for help", it was an intended separation, but, a little part of me still kinda held out a sliver of hope that they would magically turn into my dream parents and come down here.... sad huh?! Make up your mind, girl...

So now I feel a little more assured in the appropriateness of my actions. It's all good, I just have to be aware of the flux of the situation and not burn my house down along with my bridges. :)

I'm in a shitload of pain at the moment, it's so hard to deal with. Why oh why am I forced by the medical profession to be a criminal in order to acquire pain relief? Is it better for me to die of cancer of the mouth from a pipe, or to have a managed opiate addiction? HELP ME!!!

Someday I'll find a doctor willing to take a chance. Someday. It's been 7 fucking years of constant pain - I mean that - but it is easier for the doctors to protect their arses and get me to be a criminal. They'd rather I smoked pot endlessly than prescribing 100mg of pethidine a day.