A Note From The Writer

Welcome to the archived blog posts (when I was a wee blogger, wet behind the ears and not aware of spell check and various other gramatical structures!) I have kept the writings unedited or reworked as I am in the process of doing a massive rewrite of my entire life, many posts I have yet to publish and this blog was merely writing practise for the massive job of sorting out my emotions whilst retelling the story as cuttingly real and dramatic as the real memory was.. some of the posts contained are raw, streaming emotion.. many posts although painful to write, had a tremendously cathartic effect - cheaper than therapy one would say. I welcome new and old readers to keep in touch via my author email (sensualexplorersatHotmaildotcom) if you have any questions or wish to share the feelings and emotions raised by my work.
I will announce the publish date and title whenever it happens and I have been clean now for three years. It is possible.
But it is never easy. It's a lifelong journey, I will always be an addict, but I must stay one step ahead of myself and protect all that can be ruined in the eternal struggle to be
at ease once again, comfortable in this skin.
Thank you for being a part of my story.

Sunday, February 27, 2005

[no title]

Hi lovelies !!!

My therapy is in full swing at the moment so I'm utterly exhausted.
I'm just trying to take it very easy as I'm quite drained from the anemia and interferon being increased. My hair fell out in big clumps in the shower and I'm sick of jabbing needles into my skin. I'm tired of all the tablets and I'm already on anti-depressants but they are not compensating for my fatigue and frustration. I look like a ghost when I step outside and even my lips have almost gone a bluish tinge. I'm too tired to put on make-up but if I don't then I just feel awful. This has been going on for six months and I feel like giving up and getting back a quality of life that I'm used to.

I guess this is the rough patch they warned me about

On a better note
My skype id is heroinegirl , call me up on php technology today.

Friday, February 25, 2005

Online Infidelity Stories Needed

Thanks everyone for all your contributions to our Jane discussion - Jane has so far only sent Peter four text messages and is going to give herself a weeks holiday from thinking about any man at all. At this stage of her co-dependancy, a week is a major accomplishment. We will be checking back on Jane as she follows your suggestions and see how it's working for her.

Today I'm look at Internet Cheating and hopefully share some experiences with each other.
I"ll start by confessing that I have cybered online in the past, sometimes when I've been with a partner, most of the time when I'm single and on the hunt. In fact I'm yet to be convinced that all affairs are the same - how could this be when everyone is so unique and raised with different belief systems ? I've managed to classify the thousands of affairs into four (very broad) categories. I'll reveal more later but I will tell you what type of cheater I was.

I was the escape artist variety - The largest group of cheaters reside in this catergory. The betryal is not pre-meditated (to an extent) but happens as a result of flawed judgement. Yeah, I'm talking about the "I was sooooo drunk - I had no idea what the hell I was doing" kind of excuse. Or - "I didn't think about what I was doing at all - I'm a tool. "
I would even say that I've known this group of cheaters to be unintended and uncharacteristic of underhanded behaviour but then again maybe all cheaters are the same and no cheater is worth defending. I'm certainly glad I've stopped my cheating ways. My self respect is so much better for it.

It's happened to me , I've read some logs of a msn conversation that I felt was "crossing the line" and I tell you all cheating feels the same - even if the guy thinks it's only a computer screen?

Denise is afraid her spouse will see spy software on their computer. She gets the KeyCatcher Mini Device which she can install easily in seconds with no software to install. She lets him type all evening then the next morning she takes the KeyCatcher over to her friend's computer and reads everything that her husband typed. She now has all his passwords and login names to do even more investigation.

It seems that's what all the other single dudes are doing and the amount of married men that hit me up over email about my profiles (still) shows me that infidelity is alive and well (thriving in some cases in our homes, under our noses)

Should a girl be worried if her husband of thirty years is clicking windows shut every time she walks into the room and she finds photos of other women in the recycle bin ?

Do you believe that people should have the option of spying on the person in question ie: installing a keylogger or spyware to record the details of his/her online activities?

Is it sensible to remove temptations, employ preventative measures such as move the computer in an open location (ie: in the loungeroom) and have clear boundaries on what is a friend online and a potential fantasy relationship. I learnt very early on it's impossible to fight against a fantasy or an addiction - that's why the internet can be so potent.
Are you more attractive online than in RL? Why?

how do you feel about installing a keylogger ? If you felt you had a gut feeling about a cheat, would you read her emails or read her mobile phone inbox? Have you ever read logs of a conversation that made you question the truth behind how real your "real life" really is ?

Email me NOW at heroinegirl@gmail.com

I already have some great stories that will blow you mind, how sneaky some people get when it comes to flirting online. I'm also hoping for some success stories about how partners have overcome catching your partner out getting out of line - online.

Craig T. suspects his wife isn't going to the so-called Dr.'s appointment she says she is. Craig has to be at work on this day. He gets a GPS recording device, puts it in the trunk. He takes it for a test run so he knows it is working properly. Craig T. comes home from work and volunteers to wash the car. He takes the GPS out, takes it to work and plugs it into his computer. He sees the exact location on a street map and time of day where his wife was yesterday. He is surprised -- it is his best friend's condo.

Do you think this is just a little too Secret Service ?

I will also be posting a whole bunch of links and sharing my own experience with BF about online boundaries and how the internet no longer comes between us.

Send in your ideas and stories to be included in the expose !

Thursday, February 24, 2005


Hello Everyone

As you may or may not know, this blog is heading in an exciting new direction for 2005. The Heroinegirl Blog is becoming more about my present life and social issues - kind of like Oprah for bloggers. (to use a mass marketing concept)
Don't worry though, Heroinegirl will definitely still be a force amongst bloggers - I'm even interviewing most of the big names in bloggerland - asking the hard questions.
I encourage my readership to participate in the community spirit of this blog and submit any issues you would like to be discussed "heroinegirl" style (frank, dead honest and tastefully done) I'm interested in what you think about things that I bring to Heroinegirl to discuss.

This week Jane* came to me to try and get a reality check on her situation. I offered to post her story on this blog as see what my trusty reader thought about not specifically Jane's situation but comments in general. Please keep in mind that you are not expected to advise Jane directly - basically Jane has offered her story so we can discuss issues and have a forum on ideas. She is interested in people that may also be addicted to text messaging and how they overcome this. You will see the topics highlighted in yellow. Please use Haloscan :)

Feel free to comment on your thoughts on (name has been changed) Jane's* situation or your own personal experience.

It always seems to happen around Valentine's Day or any major "occasion" - People start fighting and breaking up. Especially birthdays - What's with that?
Jane called me up on the phone and told me she had hit rock bottom. She was planning her own death, right down to the cords she would use to hang herself. Of course, I immediately instructed her to seek professional counsel which she has since done, she has now admitted it was just for attention. This happens alot ebven though she has been in therapy for ten years.

However, it raised some interesting questions for myself to answer and I thought you may have some ideas yourself on how Jane could maybe start living a whole lot better.

Jane has always suffered from extremely low self-esteem. When we talk it's mostly about how her life is alternatively going well or going very bad. She doesn't really seem interested in listening to any communication that doesn't involve her. However, I honestly believe her intentions to be happy should be achieved. I was always told by my Father that if you really want something, it will happen. Then, I met Jane.

All Jane wants is to be in love. If she had that, she would be happy (apparently). It just also happens to be a fact that Jane has THE worst luck when it comes to perusing and "holding down" a man, that I have ever seen. After a string of failed relationships culminating in a failed marriage, Jane moved on in her life and started to raise two beautiful girls.

Whenever Jane starts a new relationship, everyone close to her instantly becomes anxious. If you ask anyone that knows Jane , they will tell you that Jane finds a new man before the tire tracks have cooled down the street. In fact, I used to visit her when she threatened she was going to kill herself but now I too have become immune to her panic attacks and dramatic episodes - once you have seen many flaming train wrecks they all seem to blend into one big mess.

Jane herself feels that every relationship quickly becomes a ticking time bomb. Her apetite for attention is insatiable - once she gets some loving she just wants more, and more. Jane's open desperation has made her the butt of jokes around her office and fodder for bitchy girls she once thought were friends. She doesn't have many friends as she often places men before her friendships and basically she is a very negative person to be around when she is not dating someone.

In every single relationship Jane has she has to claim her stake on her partner. Within days, Jane will start to label the man as hers and constantly use pet names. I've always wondered when it's ok to call a Man "honey or sweetie" Should you just not bother? When has dating become so full of "Rules"!!
It seems some people just don't see or know when they are being "clingy" or "pushy". I don't see why men can't be more upfront with women. Why can't a guy just be honest and tell Jane that they need space rather than just not return her calls? What does a guy mean when he says "I love you but I'm not in love with you?" (Answer in the comments fellas!)

Personally, I don't know how I feel about the whole "it's too early to say this and that" as I always stay true to myself as express myself as I feel it. Mind you, I have a finely tuned emotional antennae from a childhood spent anticipating emotional gestures from my parents.

But really, is it such a crime to be seen as overly keen and loving ?
Could there be a match for Jane and why does she have to change?
Should people like Jane aim for someone equally dysfunctional in relationships?
Realistically, is that her destiny?
I mean in life you either get it or you don't.
Jane just doesn't get it.
Surely there is others that don't get it either?

I explain to Jane that maybe it's coming on too strong to mention marriage and children (she already has two children) within the first month, she just looks at me bewildered. How could I possibly ask her to change who she is ?
Is it fair for her to tone down the fact that she is head over heels in love - with being in love?

All she craves is to find that elusive Mr Right. It's all about the picket fence and the little white dog. That's what the meaning of life is for Jane - she is not interested in any other ending.
It's not hard these days to find a steady stream of suitors - not since she has joined a variety of dating sites on the internet. Besides, finding Mr Right is her life essence - but maybe some people always destined to be alone? Are some people just so self absorbed with this false reality that they become so obsessed with their own happiness that they can never truly enter into a legitimate partnership as they are intensely selfish ? Maybe it's not low self-esteem but rather an inflated sense of worth?

This will be the fourth break-up that I've witnessed this year alone ! Jane is nearly 31 but is very attractive and young at heart. I asked her to give me a basic idea of how many times she had tried to find Mr Right and how many times this had failed. Jane estimated last year that she had over 20 relationships with different men. Does this make her a slut, I think not.
I think it makes her unhappy though and therefore she should cease this behaviour.
But she says that sex makes her feel good at least for a short period of time.
Do you have to be healthy in the head, to have sex?

She adds that nearly all of them have ceased contact with her, some going as far to say that she has "severe mental issues" and she is never to contact them again. I asked her how she felt about this and she replied "I'm used it - God never intended for me to be happy"
"This is my lot now, after my marriage split up, I knew that my one chance to have a happy family was gone. I will just dedicate my life to my girls now. That's my purpose."
Do you think this is in part true or part of the problem?

Jane alternates between the forementioned depression and then almost frenzied dating and sexual intercourse. Not content to rely on the internet to search for men willing to have sex with her (which she hopes will preclude a relationship starting) Jane has now turned to dating work-mates, bosses and clients at her new job.

I've noticed Jane go from bad to worse and become more desperate. With each break up she sinks a little lower, which only makes her more clingy with the next lucky guy. Jane admits her addiction to "text abuse" with her mobile phone.
She asks Heroinegirl readers- Can people be addicted to sms'ing? On average she will send about 15 text messages a day to her partner and also ring on the phone for lengthy conversations. That's on a day that everything is going right. Some days she has sent 40 text messages in a eight hour period. She maintains that she only texts him because he fails to reply - if he replied to her questions she would not have to send a further ten messages to find out "what's wrong"

Jane expresses that she is out of ideas on how to get men to respect her. She tries to pace herself as she has confessed that she is too "full-on". Instead she constantly offers her partner massages, dinner made, sex and company, texting him every night asking for him to change plans and spend more time with her. Throughout the entire relationship Peter would only see Jane one night a week. Jane told me that she is not allowed to ask for more time or Peter explains to her she should be with someone closer ( her current beau lives an hours drive away)

Just this Valentine's Day Jane presented Peter with a key to her house, telling him that he was welcome anytime. It was a gesture of trust , but at only two months of dating, was it too soon? Sure enough, the whole point of trust was lost when they had yet another arguement and Jane insisted that she was in possession of the key. It was nearly midnight but she was determined to take back her key (which to her symbolised her heart) therefore she broke in to his apartment to retrieve the key. She also alerted the nieghbours and then proceeded to tell them all about Peter's private life. Peter then called it off with Jane, indefinately.

I'm not saying that Peter is innocent. I think sometimes he encourages her. I've noticed he is hot/cold with his affections for Jane. He cancels plans at the last minute and makes her explain her behaviour (ie: who she speaks to on the internet) If he decides to actually stay with her for a night (he leaves in the morning and never stays for breakfast) he talks about marriage and how he will love her forever. Making confusing gestures, like buying a cheap novelty ring and slipping it on her wedding finger and proposing to her.

What's this guy all about ???
Peter actually propositioned me and asked me to go on a secret date with him, I hope that he was as drunk as I imagined. It was an awkward confession that I have kept to myself. He definately came across as a player after that, I just have a feeling he is lying to herand definately cheating on her .. I wouldn't mind telling her so she could move on...
He spoke about how I'm more suited to him and made some fairly lewd sexual comments.
I haven't told Jane as I don't know if he was serious.
Should I tell Jane so she feels less inclined or do I stay out of it completely and let the devastation take it's course ? What should a true friend do?

Please use haloscan for comments thank you

Wednesday, February 23, 2005

Guilt Trip ? Ready To Read

Hello lovelies :)

Just a quick update on the publishing comments - I don't have a publisher yet. I'm just getting the manuscript polished - but I will publish it myself if it doesn't get picked up.
Of course I don't mind signing books and giving away a few copies to my bestest blog mates!

On the health front - I'm having a great week, which is a welcome relief. My mood is finally getting back to what it normally is (happy in grande size) pretty good. Fingers crossed, I think that maybe all my medications are starting to work together rather than fight against each other, which is helping me cope a lot better. I'm exactly half way along now and I know how quickly this year will fly by - I mean, it's nearly march already !!

Later this year, all my girlfriends and partners are traveling to Zimbabwe (sp?) and I've been invited along for the adventure. It's pretty exciting slash nerve-wracking!
I'm starting to finalize the details (probably learning how to spell said destination would be an ideal starting point !!)
I've oft felt that I was born to explore the world rather than make a static nest inside a sealed section of the universe then fill that nest with a brood of children. Then again, I'm still working out my destination - so the journey itself is constantly changing. I don't know (still) what I want to be when I grow up. Argh! Of course, it doesn't help that I struggle with focusing on what I actually want from life long- term. Instead, I prefer to get caught up in whims and a constant evolution of a dream. A dream to be bigger and better than your past, to rise above it all and hold your head high. It's a double edged sword, a driving force and a knife in your back.

I don't know whether I've mentioned it previously but I traveled to Japan as an exchange student and had the experience of a lifetime. I adore the Japanese culture and people, I still speak the language fluently and regularly eat Japanese cuisine. Apart from that brief trip to Yokohama, I haven't really left my home state. Of course, I paid for the trip myself as I knew I wanted to go, regardless of leaving home 8 months before.
It was a long held dream of mine to travel to Japan as I'd studied the language for four years and held a fascination with the culture and traditions. In addition to my desire to go, I knew the asking price of $1500 dollars all inclusive, was a bargain that would not be repeated for me outside a school subsidised program. In fact, I still remember clearly that day in class when Sensai first called for expressions of interest. As a student of the language, the trip is viewed as the ultimate reward for achieving wonderful results in the subject. Not tooting my own trumpet, but I knew at the time my grades were good and I would be accepted to be a part of the exclusive program.

However, all my life I'd witnessed my parent's inability to manage their finances, we had never been able to afford such luxuries, my upbringing was humble and modest. The idea of becoming successful and creating a secure future was imposed on us but never really demonstrated. My parents have never led by example when it comes to money and emotional issues. Dad's drinking and bad planning has been a constant drain on our family. They live day to day, like most lower class families. To aim higher than my parents at the age of 17, I felt fear - I knew no different. I thought the idea of traveling on an airplane was grossly decadent, a dream that would always remain a dream. Luckily though for me, even the eight months of separation from my parents had rescinded my drive and belief that I deserved to have anything I was willing to work for. I called upon my spirit, the same spirit that strengthened my resolve to leave that house, with all its sticky pain that clung to all of me. This spirit was new and wanting, I'd manage to take charge of my new life spirit - freedom.

I raised my hand tentatively at first and in the air it kind of wavered. I hovered my hand meekly above my head, but I was almost begging to be hid back under the desk, unable to be counted. Sensai looked in my direction and so did most of the class and I saw suprised looks on their faces. I felt my face burn bright red. It was no secret that I had a bad home life and I'd left home. (Most the entire grade had attended a huge party at my house, the lack of adult supervision was definitely considered heavenly. )

Therefore, by grade 12 most teachers knew (unfortunately) that I no longer lived with my parents and that I supported myself. I was permitted by the Principal to sign all my own notes and questioned my teachers in parent/teacher interviews. It was surreal times as I openly smoked in the teachers carpark as I pondered how I landed in 'The Real World"...

I was determined to finish school, I always wanted to give myself the best chance. It's true that in hindsight I wish I'd could've stayed at home and I wish that it was different and they were different. What teenager would not prefer to just be a kid and concentrate on grades and dating as opposed to figuring out how you are going to pay bills and groceries. However, I also wouldn't change a thing as I nearly died in that house, my spirit and sanity slowly sucking away. They thought they could be different but they couldn't possibly know where to start.
The worst kind of parent is one that doesn't know what they just don't know !

Anyways, I spoke frankly to the teacher after class. I aired my concerns with him. His name was Mr Greer and he was wonderfully supportive. Slowly, I admitted that sometimes I could hardly feed myself but in spite of this I still wanted to go - more than anything else in the whole world. He smiled and I felt like I was getting somewhere. Finally.
I wanted to have one thing in my school life that I would remember as brilliant.
I wanted to be like the other kids - this was my last chance.
He listened to me as I convinced him that I was coming to Japan but inside my head I was faltering. Could I be so audacious to assume that I could afford such a grand plan to travel the world? Did I dare to dream ?
Would I even know how to do all the planning and organization?
Then I had a quicksilver thought, a flash of brilliance....

How could I overlook any chance to make myself complete and all that I was created to be ?

I'd spent most of my upbringing being something to everyone but nothing to myself. My first concern was the other toxic people in my life - I loved them with all a child has but it still wasn't enough. I will never know why.. I guess thats why it felt so strange to reward myself, to be kind to myself.
Growing up in that house, I'd stretched myself so thin that my childhood snapped with the pressure. I could never just be a child. I always found myself playing marriage counselor to The Stepmother. Babysitter to my drunken father.Sex plaything to my Stepbrother. Step- parents to my younger siblings. My childhood memories are patchy, segments black and vapid but that comes from living out a childhoood were you never remember your parent's face light up, whenever you walked into the room. After leaving this environment, I hoped with all I had that I could reward myself for living through that - I had to get on the elephants back and ride like a queen or risk being trampled by the herd. I'm lucky I learnt this young.

I spoke frankly and honestly to Mr Greer into the late afternoon, long after the last school bus left the empty grounds. I'd love to thank that teacher (and many others) for having faith in me that day. I gave him my word that it could be done and I learnt that without your word, you really don't have anything. I told my teacher how my father had uprooted us from the city and fix the family but all it did was make us all the more isolated from each other. Mr Greer asked me gently if I could contemplate moving back home.. I knew that I couldn't but how could I explain. Instead, I started to cry and shake and that was the end of that idea.

Never go backwards...the future is your best thing going.

You could've seen my beaming smile from outer space as I left the Teacher's office with the relevant forms and passport application tucked into my school bag to go home and try to understand. I knew I would have to definately get a job but I also knew that I would find a way - I had the will. I loved that day, I was bulletproof - nothing was going to break my stride. I admit that I actually felt privledged to be travelling with the elite kids doing what rich people's children dod. What made it sweeter to be me was that I always knew I was worth it.
Every single cent and more.

I busied myself with the excitement of travel. I knew that taking a first step for my future would finally absolve me of that horrible feeling of poverty and stress that always accompanied every decision that had been made in my life up until then. I knew that I was on my own now and I could finally take charge - how could I throw this away after years of suppression and pain.

I'm very proud to admit that I paid entirely for my trip by working after school and saving my government allowance (which I was awarded because my parents were deemed damaging to my well-being) in record time. The Stepmother has always made me feel guilty about that trip, implying that the government paid for the trip with dollars that were gleaned from the family heartache.
Hence, I get a little bit of travel anxiety ! I don't know why she still affects me but I guess in time it will fade. I deserve to see the world and if my parents are not willing to change destiny, then they at least have to accept mine.

I hit a stumbling block though when I required signatures for my passport. Reluctantly, I told my parents that I was going to Japan. I knew they would not be happy for me, they would view my goal as me trying to be better than them. I have no idea why both my parents have thought this. In fact, it's always been like that. I'm daring to think that maybe I am a better person than them. Maybe this will forever be the very barrier to a love I've always wanted, never known ? I don't know the future but I'd be lying to you if I said I didn't care.

Instantly, Stepmother seized the opportunity to sabotage my dreams. She steadfastly refused to sign my passport froms unless I agreed to move back into the Parental home. I had no choice but to agree, I'd already paid a hefty deposit for the trip and it was non-refundable. I felt cheated out of a choice,I pleaded with my father to see that it was blackmail.
Back then (and still to present day) I couldn't ever make my Father understand that it wasn't my fault/choice to reject them when I'd fled home - it was simply never a home for me. I didn't see the point in putting my development on hold for a moment longer, I didn't need parents to ruin me any further (perhaps permantly) before I'd had a crack at raising myself with a goal to keep my happy nature that is my essense. I never regret making that choice.

Growing up as a "child" I often felt like that period was similar to waiting out a jail sentence . Naturally this deeply offends my father who is my only remaining blood relative left to protect me. I'm sure that my confessions and memoirs do hurt him - isn't he lucky that he didn't actually have to live it. I did and I was only a small child. I should feel no shame.

When a child runs away from home, people finally start to notice that maybe their suspicions of abuse were right. This resulting attention from relatives and friends and nieghbours, made my parents desperate to reinstate a sense of normality to the unit. They felt that I would only come back unless pressured, but up until then they had nothing to offer - until they saw how much the trip to Japan meant to me.

My parents tried everything to back my silence. With the threat of my trip being cancelled, I promised my father I would return home and became instantly depressed and anxious. I know that it tore my fathers heart out when I turned outside of the family, to find my place in the world. I know that he turned away from me, one last time and he has never come back.
Then the drug addiction over the ensuing years only seemed to convince them that I was the problem, it seemed to make the guilt almost easier to bear. This is the reason they let me burn, but I'm not bitter - people are people and parents aren't perfect.

My father detests me speaking about this period, as I'm out in the world speaking out and being myself whilst they will always live in fear and shame of their mistakes. Rather than apologise they internalise the heartache for decades past and many more to come. It breaks my heart that this has become my fathers destiny - but we all make choices. I will still love him.

Reluctantly, I moved in three days prior to my departure to Tokyo and tried to fit back in with the family unit (nothing had changed) I had the time of my life and I remember wishing I could stay with the Japanese family rather than go back home and face life with my own family.
I had nothing more to give them - not even a second chance.

Upon my arrival home, The stepmother collected me from the Airport and instantly I felt the pressure filling up stones inside my chest. She wasn't interested in my travel stories and excitement, my happiness only ever seemed to incense her hostility. Instead she cut short my animated chatter by sniping that"It was ridiculous that a child could go gallivanting overseas whilst her parents were unable to even put food on the table" I knew that nothing would ever change and in the icy silence of trip home to "the Hellhouse" I rationalized breaking my word to my Parent's and re-packing my boxes and moving back over the road. Yes, I actually lived across the road from my parents for about six months after I started to hang out with older people. That's how I met hale s as she lived across the road from my parent's house. Whilst The Stepmother ate a creamcake watching Days Of Our Lifes, I calmly packed all of my things and walked them to other side of the street.
Sometimes the grass really is greener on the other side...

Speaking of family, my younger sister came up to see me a few weekends ago and we spent some time bonding and doing sisterly stuff. I'm relieved that she's doing well since moving out of home. I know she is 18 and that's not really that unusual but I also know my sister very well and she has been spoilt in ways that I never was ( In fact after my traumatic upbringing my parents totally changed the upbringing of the children after I left home at 16.)
I explained that I had not gone home to see my parents since she had left at Xmas. She asked me why and I felt ashamed, but only for a moment. Inside, I'm fuming that my Father had failed to ask me anything about my Hepatitis . I knew that I was ready to confront Dad and also The Stepmother about the lack of interest in my health. I'd deliberately avoided the stressful return to "home" because it unearthed massive pain and frustration and the doctors have asked that I limit my contact with hostile environments whilst in therapy.
However, things have a funny way of working out and when dropping my sister back to The Gold Coast she needed to collect a makeup kit from home. Reluctantly, I trudged up the driveway as I knew that I would never hear the end of it, if I remained in the car whilst she went inside to get her things.

Then all shit broke loose.
I opened my mouth and I nailed my parents to the floor.
They think it's over for now, but that was round one.
Dad also said I can't use them in the book.
So sue me. I said "you guys did it" I live with it, so you guys can live with it too.
Every year I get stronger, they will not take this away from me.
Not when it's my story.
It's my life.

I will tell you about the conversation tomorrow, I need to go and practice for grading on March 12 - green belt. Pretty hard pattern but nothing I can't conquer.

Have a great day and kick something hard for me !

I'm not saying that I was hard done by and that's why I'm clever. I'm saying that I always knew it was my destiny to be in charge of my own happiness and this is a lesson we could all learn. Heroinegirl on msn today...

Monday, February 21, 2005

Dance With Me

One of the most rewarding pleasures of writing is touching the reader's soul. My blog has such a wonderful sense of home for me so what beautiful souls these are. I've literally recieved thousands of heartfelt emails and thoughtful comments - the vast majority of which are extremely compassionate - I thank you to all of my readers for your support and encouragement of what I share with you. Thank you also to everyone that commented, emailed, donated your time and efforts to my cause, money (46.30$Aus) to making Heroinegirl one of those most inspiring weblogs of all time. (In my eyes only of course!)

In order to keep the publishers happy I won't be writing too much more about my recovery and further memoirs on this blog. As much as I would love to finish the story - I've been advised that anyone who wants to read the entire and previously unpublished memoir collections will be able to in the not too distant future.

An astute commenter once advised "Never give up writing or you will die". In part, I agree with this prophecy, I was born to write and express language. When I write I envisage that with the reader's emotions I can paint a technicolour landscape of experiences that we have all shared, yet fail to see the beauty.

In short, this blog will continue to be a work of blood, sweat and tears for me (I know no other way to write) There is so many stories out there that are similar to mine and also so many people less fortunate than me. I'm convinced that by sharing these stories with you and encouraging open discussion that we can all feel passion in our lives. . So, with my past behind us now for the time being, I look forward to stepping forward into the disco lights and smoke machines, twirling in the upswing of success that is celebrating being alive.

Heroinegirl has been a garden of discovery that I have tended to keenly, from the budding confessional to the present flush of blooms. Let my passion for all things alive, unfurl under your tender touch, the heady scent of into your subconcious to stay there...long after my words have faded.. and with it our understanding of surviva

I hope to share with you my rebirth and all the people and experiences that come along with journey that is From The Gutter To The Stars. Live your life as if everyone is waiting for their chance to spin with you on the dancefloors, lost in the sparkle of the crystal, skimming across the polished chestnut floors. Maybe a lucky few may get the chance others never knew? Maybe your enemies and greatest heroes can be found simply waiting in the wings for an opportune moment. Indeed, everyday people arrive late to the ball. But most of all, listen to the music and never forget what makes you feel good and when you finally own that dancefloor you will know that you are indeed truly beautiful.

Come dance with me, let's see how this baby burns.

Friday, February 18, 2005

Live Your Best Life !

Hello Lovelies!

The fantastic year of 2005 is well underway (yes I'm finally awake now for 2005
Cheers to 2005 - hooray for yet another chance for us to get it right.

I don't ever think of myself as a girl who is trying to make good of her bad life. I will always be proud that as a young girl I knew it would be up to me, to make my dreams come true.

It's this confidence that helps me believe my dreams are going to be met. I just love that we are creatures that are actually able to transform our lives by sheer mindpower and determination.
Just by working hard at whatever you want to achieve, you don't have to think your entitled to a miracle to "save" you - be the miracle to yourself. Everyday I suprise myself and when I do , I look for the next opportunity to do again. Then again and then again.

I definately don't have all the answers, sometimes I want it all to fix itself in a moment and for all my mistakes to be overshadowed by a brilliant blaze of success. That still wasn't making me happy - it just aggravated feelings that I wasn't good enough NOW to start living my life HOWEVER I wanted. I've learnt that I will have it all - just not all at the same time!
This reality has been the turning point in my life. My saving grace became not just staying alive but to start right now living out my wildest dreams.

It's been two years clean and I've never felt more proud to alive in this wonderful world.
With only six months left to go of treatment, I feel my perspective on life has improved majorly even my lows show me in contrast what is truly important , every single place I look.
The highs and the lows of being alive only exhilarate and challenge my passion to be the very best adventurer across the magical plains of life. As you become more clear about who you really are, you'll be better able to decide what is best for you - the first time around.

The chemo therapy (minus radiation) has been hard but it had to be. I needed a wake-up call that I needed to respect my body and I needed to "own" that I injected crap into my arms for five years and hoped it would all be ok. I neglected my teeth, my hair, my family, my education and my dreams. I now revel in my self-esteem and teach others how this is possible. Just by loving people for who they are and letting people see for themselves what needs to be changed.
I don't worry myself with what everyone else is doing - I just let them be. When I miss the bus, for the third time - I know I'm not a orphaned child in Africa infected with Aids.
I finally get that it's not all about me in relationships, that I can have morals and standards and look after myself. I don't need a man to do this - I don't need to replace my father.
I deserve love and respect from my family and if I don't get it - I don't need to "own" that.
If I had a bad childhood - I so don't have to own that.
I own me ! A much better experience and potential to bring so much love to the world.

Heroine is the working title of my book and I will be doing the final draft now, aiming for completion this year and to have a publisher on board by December. This website is getting the web design make-over( I haven't forgotten it has just been last on the list of priorities)
I'm also have my travel plans for South Africa and America at the end of the year.
That's my reward for finishing my counseling license. I'm also getting a Japanese Boarder to help cut down living expenses, cutting off the cable and installing wireless for BF and I. Together we are aiming for a deposit on an investment property by end of year, latest.

With the time freed up from my internet addiction, I will be volunteering at a youth welfare, which also helps my school grades. I'm also planning to return to the workforce for a few days a week. Already I have been spending more time on the telephone to my family, having weekends away with my friends, enjoying the outdoors and attending the theatre (twice this week).

By the end of the year I will be a brown belt with black tip and my health should be a peak level after the treatment has been successful. So far, it's looking extremely positive that I will be Hep C Negative. I may not be able to drink ever again, but at least I'm alive and able to enjoy my life for many more years, with all my organs intact. I'm blessed because now I know that being grateful for my body was the first step in truly respecting and loving myself.
It just gets better ! Every single day, it just gets better to be me !!!!

I will also remain focused on saving money for my future and not living beyond my means, this will mean that a few luxuries will have to go (ie: the cable tv) but essentially at 26 time will be on my side if I invest sooner rather than later. I will continue to seek counsel from people that I admire and will also be honest with myself when something is "just not working".
I have communicated to BF that this includes romantic relationships !
I've decided to wait until marriage has a personal and individual message to me, and at this moment of my rebirth with every thing else going on - it would seem a distraction. Ditto for having children in the next few years.

I've taken a really long look at the state of my world both inside my home and outside. I spent at least three days researching my own soul and the balance I have with life. Beyond my own needs to have a child for my own happiness, I realized the world is full of children already needing compassion and care and a second chance. Therefore, I want to do this. I want to be the best mother I can be. For the time being I'm content to focus on how I can help these children and make a difference to these innocent children that are disadvantaged.
That will be my career and that will be my way to make a difference.

The biggest adventure of my life has not been surviving the hardship
It will be the thrill of living the life of my dreams ..

Thursday, February 17, 2005


Sarah McLachlan - Angel
The accompaning piece for this Memoir

In the arms of an angel
Fly away from here
From this dark cold hotel room
And the endlessness that you fear
You are pulled from the wreckage
Of your silent reverie
You're in the arms of the angel
May you find
some comfort there......

Near the end of our relationship, Justin and I found time was almost stained with the madness, almost lost in the sadness. We barely had time for explanations of what was happening so apologies seemed futile. I made him search the streets for food and beg for spare change.
It was a new low, to beg for our supper. We had no shame left to offer, we just needed a miracle - nothing that we didn't pray for every night in the gutter.

Brimming with death and curse, our toxic love heralded daily casualties ..Pain, betrayal and devastation as our addiction became all of us. How fluid the lies could flow now, how easy it was to be cruel and cunning. The journey of self has proved to be the hardest detoxification of all. I was pure poison, I looked in the mirror and I saw a strange shadow fall over my face.
Shame was staining me as I faded to black, ready for the end credits.

I was so lost, not so much afraid anymore. I was so sad, not so much brave anymore.
Things had reached an all time low for my self-esteem, long ago sold to the highest bidder.
All the while, the love of my life watched on keenly. Hypnotised as the needle drew back the memories and pushed forward with fresh pain.. Zombie nights and ghost days, we used each other to feed our veins, losing our human touch and losing love between us..Once so precious.
Let me touch your face one more time..feel the wetness of your smile on my fingertips.
We stopped smiling, stopped touching. We stopped remembering why we are alive.

Sweet Madness...
This Glorious sadness
brings me to my knees...

I remember sensing a feeling that an end was nigh...Maybe it was Marcus ?Maybe it was all I could take. Leaving Justin seemed the only viable option but remained the biggest challenge of all. Together we were soldiers on the battlefield of bad decisions but my arms ached with the burden of it all.
My heart sagged from the squeeze of the selfish... we both were tired.

I will never forget one of the last nights we spent together.. In reflection, I almost could taste the goodbye, lingering in the singsong of a final kiss..

I remember the backdrop was poolside of the mote we were living in for that month. The only sound that cut through the crickets was the vacancy sign, hissing into the midnight space as the palm fronds swayed gently in the summer breeze.
Together we sat against the white wall, barefoot and contemplating the lost heavens as we shared our last cigarette. Words sometimes fail to summarize a lifetime of regret, so we remained quiet , merely throwing pebbles of subconscious over a stone cold wall of internal pain and confusion. How did it ever get so bad? I thought I would end up graduating from University this year and traveling overseas... Why was it justice that I was hooking the highway, junkie justice supreme. I knew why - I had traveled down the wrong path and now I was deep into the woods and I was so very afraid. Afraid, for my own life as it was no longer possible to feel Justin's presence. The trees of finality entrenched him as the spirits laughed lush insanity, poison blossomed from the green and blinded him forever ..

A shooting star sprinkled through the sky, the tail suspended in glitter. I smiled and so did he.
I looked at him and tears brimmed in his eyes...I reached for his hand even though we both knew it was time to let go. It tore my heart out as blood seeped from my soul..
No kind words could stem the warm gush of release, I was bloody and I was hurting.
Without a single word spoken, I tore myself from his fleshy bonds of co-dependency and looked down to my side to were he used to be holding my hand....Only to see a gaping hole.

I look to him as the memories flow between us like spilt blood. It's enough pain to form a crimson tide...Some hopes and dreams that simply will never be now.. Oh lord, how it hurts.
He looks to me with his sapphires and I drop my hands to the floor, for one final surrender.

"Tell me your sorry" I breathe to him. His face is inches from mine, barely through a hot stream of tears as I kiss away our future, as though it may lessen the sting of losing the love of my life.
"Tell me that you never stopped believing that we could survive" I pleaded.

He looks right into my soul and something shatters with the simplicity...
"I will always , always be sorry" He closes his eyes as we sob beside the pool in the midnight the strange calm of the palm trees, still swaying ever so softly..Motel guests blissfully unaware of the planets falling from the skies above.
"I just never ...Knew.." He falters but I understand.. It's how it is.

Images of all the clients I had let roam those hands, all the times we had both agreed to sell my body and its pleasures for cash to put the needle in my arm. All the Johns and Peters shuffle ghost-like amongst us, sleeping in the corners of our shared bed. All the time I had managed to befriend my clients and make sure that I was ok with selling my body, I always knew it may be harder for Justin to accept. As much as we never spoke about what I did behind the closed doors we would never forget that beautiful time when it was just us - no drugs and no prostitutes for miles.. When we had the world at our fingertips, just for being in love.

I can't describe the air of finality about that night - but it's one of the most haunting moments I will ever experience. It's hard to share, the moment is so deeply private.

The reality of what we had become had finally arrived on the back of the shooting star - massive fade in a brilliant burst of shimmer. I was giving up him, in order to go on. To leave Justin to fend for himself went against everything I believed in. In fact, my own Mother abandoned me at the age of six so all my life I had felt pain that Justin had been through as well. I had promised him that I would never let him down.
I had promised him so many times. I remember them all, like the haunting melody of a broken heart symphony.

But, I knew unless I "cut him" away from my life, we would kill each other.

In front of me I see a haunted man. He still sees me as that eighteen year old girl with the ponytail...He still sees me laughing with his Mother in the sunroom pouring over photos, he still sees me as the girl that kisses so good and smells like apples.
He also sees the deathly gaunt and purple eyed junkie with matted hair and rotting teeth, hunched with him by the motel pool. I know it breaks his heart and the guilt from this would always mean he would rely on Heroin to deal with it..
I know he wanted so much more for me, and he knew that I would trade all my dreams to just stay with him and be loyal to our fate.. He knew long before me that I would fly away.

I gave him the final gift of absolution as I leant over his his ear and as I spoke a single tear blossomed from my eyelash, staining my cheek.

"I forgive you."

It was barely a whisper but it was the price of my world and my heart paid forever ..
We held each other for a final embrace and I moved in with Marcus the following day to begin my detox as arranged. His future was unknown ..and we both knew that in that moment.

I was no longer able to decide if he didn't mean to cause me harm, I had to face up to my own ruined life and find my own way to the stars. I knew that was were I would always be..
I wasn't so sure if he was destined to heaven.. I had lost the faith in our love ..
It was the end of faith for Justin as well...

He died six months later.

Spend all your time waiting
For that second chance
For a break that would make it okay
There's always one reason
To feel not good enough
And it's hard at the end of the day
I need some distraction
Oh beautiful release
Memory seeps from my veins
Let me be empty
And weightless and maybe

I'll find some peace tonight
RIP Justin

Wednesday, February 16, 2005


"You walked into the party
Like you were walking onto a yacht

Your hat strategically dipped below one eye

Your scarf it was apricot
You had one eye in the mirror

As you watched yourself gavotte
And all the girls dreamed that they'd be your partner
They'd be your partner..."

Soundtrack for this memoir - You're So Vain - Carly Simons

[Make me beautiful..........Love me right , should you need to. Heroinegirl 2001.]

I had just turned eighteen when I was introduced to The Ex who was eight years my senior. The nightclub walls glittered with flashing lights, as if studded with sapphires. My heart was racing with the adrenalin of being in a nightclub for the first time, the heavy bass throbbing through my body. I made my way to the back of the nightclub, dragged through the throng of sweaty ravers by my best friend Haley, to meet the lad they all adored, especially her.

I had heard so much about him before I was even allowed to meet him. I was advised not to talk to him first and under no circumstances could I ever ask him for drugs. I was guilty of being a Narc until I could be proven innocent. I guess it's another layer to peer pressure, you want to fit in and the drugs make it easier to do , in record time.

The Ex was always surrounded by a bevy of beauties, women wanted to fuck him and men wanted to be him. Everyone wanted in. The Ex was ruggedly handsome with a killer mix of boyish charm, his presence easily filled a room while his cheeky grin only spelt trouble.
Charisma oozed from his words and he spoke with an air of exaggerated confidence and sexuality. He was an enigma to many but never me. I felt he was just like me - but with no soul.
The Ex enjoyed a lothario reputation and in a small town that seems to go "for" a person rather than against. Over the next year, I watched his callous treatment of women who he dated or just fucked , my flatmate Haley for a tumultuous period of two years.
The Ex was "Digger" in our small town, one of the biggest providers of really nice pot and crystal meth. The Ex had several connections with biker gangs and other questionable characters that no one else could forge. To put it simply - he got the best drugs and that's what made him popular. I know from being his partner for many years afterwards, that this temporary rise to notoriety only made him hate himself more. He knew that people only hung around him to get drugs.. But it didn't stop him from using them back.

It was only after a falling out with my school friends that I sought company of older friends. Instantly, I felt satisfied - the exhillaration of the forbidden - I was a moth to the flame.
I realise now that I left home at 16 very naive. Even though my childhood had been sobering and had forced me to mature, I couldn't judge characters very well nor did I have a clear idea of the dangers of hanging around with the wrong crowd. The "wrong crowd" made me feel alive, I had never felt so free so it didn't matter that I had lost control. Haley had offered for me to live with her and her cats and a sense of hope for the future.

The Ex lived in a huge share house on the hill. It was always crowded with the town eccelectic, people camped out on the lounge room floor playing playstation, bearded folk playing cards in the kitchen, having sex in the bathroom, smoking pot in the laundry. Someone was always leaving and someone was always coming. Posters of Lou Reed and Nirvana crowded the den, guitar amps littered the loungeroom and the Orchy bottle bong lived under the sink. It was a magical house of sin, endless rooms of tangled sheets where youth had gone awry, where a nobody could finally be a somebody.

It was the kind of house that you would be banned from if you smoked too much of his weed, if you never drove him to drop off drug deals or if you dared to go above his head to get drugs. It was a place of cultural revolution and discovery, the only place on earth I could discover bulbs, Jane's Addiction, how to cook a good steak, Taxidriver and how to give deep throat in a single day.
It was not unlike the Mafia, everyone had a rank and a purpose and we all depended on each other for one thing only - ourselves.

I wasn't invited to the house until I could be trusted. The Ex refused Haley to bring me over to the house - I couldn't be trusted that if the police questioned me (they had the house under survellience) that I wouldn't start crying and blabbing. Of course being a rebel , I found this very insulting and I confronted the Ex about it. Suddenly, I had his attention.
Maybe this is what I've always wanted.

Things changed though when I was 18 and started to go to the nightclubs, which The Ex happened to run. The clout he had in the town was truly amazing. In the height of the Nirvana craze he dyed his hair blonde and it was short and scruffy, playing up his piercing blue eyes that flashed in the neon nightclub like a shark hunting out prey in the inky black. The ex and his male friends plied young girls with free drinks and sold drugs through the guise of the nightclub promotions. The Crystal was so good and the truth became lost in the prisms of light, he was the power and the source.

I loved the rush of the crystal meth and the way my skin sucked it up and my eyes wobbled with the sheer overload of pleasure. I wanted hands over me, in the slick sweat smog of the dancefloor and I got it - I just don't from who as the whole crowd spun in the strobe.

I spied The Ex fingering a girl, under her miniskirt - in full sight of the nightclub- when he saw I was looking - he gave me a wink that made the sweat trickle between my breasts and a throb under my skirt. I looked away but when I looked back he was still staring...that's the way it was.
He acted like a moviestar as only moviestars can. He broke many hearts and did a lot of people over, as only meth can.
My innocence was a strong aphrodisiac for him. I didn't smoke cones, I'd never touched a needle and I had only just lost my virginity. I had just turned 18 but I had an independence from living out a traumatic childhood that made me seem wise beyond my years.
Plus his best friend was sleeping with me - that was simply a slap in the face.
He was the star.

Neverless, I was embarrassed around the Ex, sometimes he would announce with disdain how I was young and naive and shouldn't be around the major players. I knew that I frustrated him as I made him question the authenticity of the whole scene. I saw his loneliness - as only someone who has found themselves can.
Whenever he would come over to visit my girlfriend, my heart would quicken as he would scruff my hair and kiss me on the cheek. I was just a kid to him. His relationship with Haley* (my flatmate and best friend) was best described as Courtney and Kurt. She was besotted with him and he was totally out of control. Haley hit the meth hard and The Ex pretended to not approve - until he wanted a hit himself. It was only a matter of time before The Ex moved into our house and started selling from the back bedroom. I didn't quite mind because he had the hottest friends and every night was party night. Haley would make huge roast dinners for recovery and at least eighteen people would crowd into our loungeroom , laughing and joking.

He would treat her like a dog at times and she would only beg for more.
She has never been the same girl since meeting him. Just like me.

It was a closed society and the drugs and good times were flowing. No raids had happened yet and we were all in the prime of our lives. I still speak to a few of those people, but after the Big Bang everyone virtually disappeared. In those early years though, I became determined that I would be the one to tame the beast. I knew in my heart that The Ex was craving love and stimulation - I knew that one day we would be together. We both knew it was only a matter of time , before our worlds would collide , it was written in the smile lines of our faces when we spoke to each other. It's the moth to the flame situation, all over again.

Haley became addicted the Meth, a highly addictive upper. No longer happy to let The Ex score for her (and subsequently tax a taste for himself) Hale's went above him and made connections with the major supplier. This was the kiss of death for my Flatmate , before all of us she became a skinny, sick and totally physcotic shell. She dreadlocked her hair and began to speak pure nonsense after staying awake for days on end. She looked like death and everyone was so worried that at any minute she would have a heart attack and her heart would just stop beating.

The change was gradual but terrifying. We no longer spent time just me and her - it was always about "getting on" first only on Friday nights and then it became whole weekends and then finally everyday. At the same time I met one of The Ex's sidemen who was absolutely gorgeous and I fell in love. Deep and crazy "sex in the public pool" kind of love. We spent nights chatting on the telephone and we listened to great music and he introduced me to The Cure.
Every girl remembers her first adult male - it's a rush to the head that you'll never forget.

It thrilled me to fuck his best friend right under The Ex's nose while he was busy battling with Haley over the speed dramas. I didn't realize it at the time but I was told much later on, that Aden protected me from a lot of the drugs and dealing that I was unaware was in my life. Aden would often pick me up in his ride and we would go and sleep and fool around in his mansion which he shared with his parents. The Ex had once lived with Adam but that soon went foul due to drugs. So, Aden had already started to suspect The Ex was out to damage many lives calling The Ex " The Puppet Master". He warned me to stay away from him and I listened for some time. It did seem true, The Ex seemed to live a clever life - scoring free drugs, beer money, free rent, sex and of course the adulation of peers that wanted their country town to be brought into the "rave scene" that was so popular with the cities.

Many times I would have to console Haley after she had walked in on The Ex in bed at his house with yet another naked door-girl from the club - often he would just laugh at her shaking with anger, pale as a ghost.
I can still hear her screaming asd his flatmates would peel her away from the door frame and throw her inside the car. Anyone that was anyone knew that he was fucking anything that moved , just because he could. No one doubted that Haley was too good for him, she had the cutest face and when it was good I remember he would draw love hearts and kittens on her hands...But when it was bad she would cut herself and bleed ...forever.

Eventually and gratefully they broke up. The Ex had become so disgusted with her appearance and pyschotic behavior, which was stinging considering that both of us had never even smoked pot before meeting The Ex. To keep her company, I started to snort speed with her as well and we began our own crazy journey, eventually planning to escape the country town and move back interstate. The Ex wouldn't be able to find us then - if we could just resist telling a single soul.. Forever being the co-dependent, The Ex pestered Haley around the clock to stay with him, lavishing the both of us with flowers and cards and numerous apologies.

Heroin hit the town when Haley's sister came to visit. I managed to completely avoid this scene but The Ex was not as fortunate. Needles and Smack was considered way heavier than a few lines of speed so consequently The Ex lost a lot of respect from the Biker Gangs and the players in the "uppers" scene. I learnt what "being on the nod" meant when I noticed the Ex sitting in the pub with a cigarette smoldering into his jeans. People started talking and raids went down to clamp down on the Heroin scare - it was after all a country town and the outcry was enormous. Everyone was forced to seperate and go underground, The Ex was fired from the nightclub as his Heroin use got out of hand.

I only had a faint idea that I really wanted to fuck him myself. It was faint in a way that an eighteen year old thinks about making a strategic move to get nailed.
It was unclear how I would fuck him... But you just know it will be.
Because your young and fabulous.
So you fuck one night and you're a celebrity
But you have no fucking idea what you have just walked into.

You had me several years ago
When I was still quite naive
Well, you said that we made such a pretty pair
And that you would never leave
But you gave away the things you loved
And one of them was me
I had some dreams they were clouds in my coffee
Clouds in my coffee


Hello Lovelies !

I have updated my memoirs list to the right eight more have been added to the archives.
Memoirs are 100% true but names have been changed. They are also in sequence and will help you understand the flow of the story so far. Memoir season is now !

Before the carnival left off I wrote two memoirs regarding cheating on The Ex. You may recall I started to see a handsome client by the name of Marcus unbeknown to The Ex for about three months. My last memoir was about the confrontation between The Ex and I.

The heroin addiction always came before romance, so The Ex agreed to let me sleep with Marcus and return to the motel in the day to work as a prostitute to support our heroin habits.
It tore him up inside to share me with another man, we had been together for almost five years. Regardless, it was all he could say to make sure I would stick around. Without me, I was 100% certain he would die. It was a lot of pressure for a 22 year old, one that I think made me seek refuge in the arms of another man. I wanted an out. I wanted to find the straightest and most disciplinarian man I could. I knew Marcus could take me out of the rabbit hole.
I just didn't know if a man could stop me from shooting junk into my arm. It was my arms and my high - nothing to do with him. That's how I felt after years of survival instinct , it was me against the world and that was ok - as long as we left each other be. Love / Hate relationship.

It had been like that for three years by now, I estimated that I blew 50,000 dollars into our "golden arms". Marcus did not know about the Ex and he didn't know about the Heroin.
Granted, he knew about the hooking as thats how he found me - but I suspected he had no idea of the full story. My youth was just a mask, underneath I was an old bent soul, warped with festering sores of a wrong direction.

Monday, February 14, 2005


Valentine's Day makes most people cranky. The abundance of hearts and teddy bears assaults our peace of mind as we trudge through the shopping centre, desperate to escape the tangle of ribbon and bow. Desperate housewives throng to the novelty stores, eating up gift ideas like emotional valium, boxer shorts that proclaim "Devil In the Sack" or something equally ambitious.

Love is.. my favorite flavor.
In fact, loving myself has helped me survive incest, abuse, death, drug abuse, loss and trauma and has made me stronger than ever to give back to the universe.

As I type this , tears are forming in my eyes as I think of how I've had a second chance at life - better than I could ever imagine !!

I prefer to celebrate being in love every day. I don't let it get me down that some people need an offical hallmark accredited moment to share feelings. My loved ones are what matters to me, even more so since being ill. Love is the reason I'm alive, no doubt about it. When I wake up in the morning, the first thoughts that flutter into my mind is love. I'm grateful for the people that stood by me and for the people that have gratefully passed through my life. I feel proud of my future and I understand my past. It's a special life that I have ahead of me now.

It takes practice and patience, but each day just gets better and better from that moment on. I owe so much to my partner, who has selflessly dedicated the last eight months to giving me injections, maintaining my chemo/medication levels are manageable and basically making me laugh when it all seems way too serious.
We have been through hell and back and we are ready to keep on moving forward.
The respect we have for each other is enormous, through the good times and bad.

So whatever way you choose to celebrate this "mc love day" ...remember that everyday is a chance to give some love - not only to others, but to yourself.
It starts inside you, you hold your own hand.
You are the commitment .

To my boyfriend :

Every single day I thank God that he thought I was special enough to be blessed with you in my life. Thank you..forever.

Happy Valentines Day Everyone

Saturday, February 12, 2005

Chinese, Japanese, Indian Chief!

My friend jodie gave me her first memoir

As for the Heroinegirl Memoirs they start next week, just needed a change in focus.
It's very hard to constantly write about oneself ! However, it must be done lovelies as I'm fabulous etc etc. I've already noticed that I'm feeling clear headed and more efficient since monitoring my internet usage. At the moment it feels rather heavy handed - I have post it notes on my monitor that says "Are you happy that everything is done?" and other things "Resist The Vortex" ( that last one was a joke, but many a true thing was said in jest)
I just love that smarmy mouth saying - it's pretty final really.

The custody has gone well - the girls are back with us on the weekends which is awesome.
I must admit that this time I'm trying not to get so attached as much as I did last time. When the mother pulled them away because of my Hepatitis it felt like my heart had exploded.
The pain....was more than painful ...it was all I could feel instead of dying.

I don't "do" reserved emotions very good. I'm a loving person, warm and trusting till the day I die. I'd rather deal with the fall-out than never feel the glow of the fireworks on my face.

It's hard to be emotionally guarded with any child- having experienced this myself I know it doesn't protect anyone in the big picture - love for today and the rest seems to flow.

Being a stepmother is a hard and sometimes thankless task, you develop motherly affections and so does the child but ultimately it can be taken away from you without warning or reason. But for now, they are back and I realize how much I missed them.

It's so lovely to have the house filled with chirpy chatter again, to feel their little hands in mine when we cross the supermarket car-park. Playing in the garden, catching dandelions and teaching the girls how to swing. These are gifts that I have taught them and I look forward to many more life lessons. I love our family dinners which dissolve into fits of hysterical giggles behind strategically cupped hands , much to daddies mock anger. It's all wonderful and light because tonight is a special night. Saturday night is our night to share the magic of family, so Daddy laughs along too and life just flows along with it. In fact, Saturday night is his favorite night of the week - how could it not be ?

When Lil girl nestles herself in my lap for a quick doze, I stroke her angel hair and I realise ; it's not about whether this moment can last forever - it's that in the moment the stars shine like diamonds in her eyes and I experience her beauty and trust with all she has to give.
It makes me so young again, the garden swing brushing the top of the cotton candy clouds and the night is brilliant for love ..

I wouldn't change a thing.
No regrets.

I will always love like I have nothing to lose.
Every single day of your life.
I will always know that I have everything to gain


Friday, February 11, 2005

Modem Heart

The other day I wrote about a wierd night with BF talking about Children. Deep down I know I'm not ready either. He has since explained that he thought I was gaining momentum to have a baby soonish and that he thinks we still have a journey ahead of us that is exciting and rewarding. I tend to agree, even if my journey needs a desperate kick in the pants.

I've spoken about feeling frustrated about the lack of energy and the feelings of isolation.
I've never really spoken about the Black Hole in my life. A nagging voice that pesters me every moment of the day, makes me rush through tasks, abandon chores, increases fatigue and also takes me into a fantasy world. It sounds like Heroin but it's not - it's my internet addiction.

When I remember back to being a Junkie - I recall that I was always busy meeting people, scoring, working and trying to balance a relationship at the same time. I realised that pre-internet I had no choice but to go and meet new people, write letters and actually call people on the telephone.

Putting down the needle took about six months. After several attempts to go cold turkey failed, I resorted to Methodone treatment. Located right next to the dispensary was an internet cafe.
I remember sitting at a computer feeling slightly overwhelmed but also very intrigued about the "Internet". The internet cafe was like a casino, dark neon blue hues and rows upon rows of the latest machines all humming happily. No windows and no clocks meant my first visit was a six hour stint. That was four years ago and I have only just faced up to the fact that I resent the presence my computer has in my life. Left to my own devices , I can easily spend 20 hour stints in front of my 17" - I find it cathartic , creative and dynamic to travel anywhere in the world and meet all these wonderful people. But the people I love are quite simply ignored until I find a spare moment to disconnect my cortex from the superhighway.

I can't type and hold a conversation and I don't answer the telephone. People talk to me on msn , even my family. I don't leave the house ever and as soon as I wake up I turn it on and just as I lock up , I turn it off. I know I'm addicted because it is interfering with my life. When you have to think about how much you have given up for a computer - jobs I have lost or left due to internet abuse or lack of access, everytime my partner comes home from work and I can't even look at him and ask how his day has been, being late or simply not going to appointments, work, or social engagements - doing what ever I can to stay dissconnected to reality and connected to fantasy world.

Basically I have traded Junk for my Modem. It sounds ridiculous and I've been in denial for about four years - but the anxiety is increasing as years slip by and I realise I'm not heading in the direction I want to be. Instead I'm static, trading all of my friends and family and dreams for this online abyss. I don't want to be alone with a handful of wires. I don't want to be pale and tired anymore. I've set the oven timer so I can get off the net and it rang about 15 minutes ago.
I'm not going to let this beat me. I didn't come this far in my life to tapdance it out on a keyboard. I'm going to blog about sometimes, as this way I can keep record of my progress.
Please wish me strength as I really am addicted , in ways that I can't type about yet.
I look forward to my new life of balanced and healthy internet use, were I can take it or leave it.

I will do it !

Thursday, February 10, 2005

O Manolo !

I love Manolo sooo much ! I just recieved an email from Manolo Shoe Blog's Fabulous Owner.
I thought I would share it with you...

Hello to the Heroin Girl!

The Manolo he must apologize for not responding sooner. He is terribly
backed up on the replying to the emails. Please alert him the next
time the auctions it returns and he will offer something with the

Muchos Besos!


P.S. You are indeed super fantastic!

(this is why I love my internet)

Wednesday, February 09, 2005

Wearing Thin

For the past fortnight the hospital visits have increased, even though I've been doing all the right things. I've hardly seen any real human beings besides my partner and I feel opressed by my fatigue. I've had to increase my drugs to four injections now and it's been a case of take one day at a time. My bedroom needs cleaning and the chores are giving me a moral migraine. Most of all, I miss my working life and I miss having the energy to go shopping with the girls and just be impulsive. I'm considering moving closer to town so I'm not so isolated. It's a big choice to make as I would probably have to move away from BF. We have a nice home and it's peaceful - but sometimes too peaceful. The age difference between us is eleven years and I guess today I feel it more than others. I don't know if it's my pms (probably) or my medications that making me feel so desperate and anxious to uproot my whole life. I know that me and BF are at different stages.
BF has a daughter and in four years she will be in highschool. BF has been married and does not recall the memory with fondness. I've accepted this and focused on my own recovery first.
I figured that I needed to focus on a healthy mind and spirit before deciding who I would like to realistically enjoy the rest of my days with. I also place child-rearing as something I would like to approach as soon as I think I'm ready to.

These are dreams that I unashamedly want for myself and I'm prepared to do the required soul searching to make my dreams complete. I don't expect Mr Right to come along but I'm tired of the Mr Wrong Detour that I always seem to take.

BF is a beautiful person but we both know that he is not ready to do that again. He says "maybe" and "let's just do this and this first" and it makes the whole notion seem like "work".
I know having a child is work and I know I have a while to go, but I don't like subjects being off limits. I don't like my spirituality being ignored and negative thoughts in it's place.

I'm not obsessed with "The Future", but I also don't think it's fair for one person in the relationship to be putting 80% energy and consideration if the other person cannot do the same. Whether it be from emotional baggage or pure selfishness, it's just as much my responsibilty to accept what will never change as it is for BF to consider what may be worth changing.

I've always felt guilty about asking a boyfriend the ole " Do you think you could see us marrying" - I simply don't. I don't envisage wedding dresses and speeches - until you meet someone so good that you think , if it aint him it won't be anyone else.
I know BF is different to me and I can't expect him to be calm and positive all the time.
It's not realistic (I agree) but I still think that being in love is learning how to love healthy.
Surely people can change? Am I so bad for asking ? Would he rather I never asked and just left always wondering why I did?
I'd rather know and I would rather now, asap.

Love. It seems like a natural progression. However whenever I broach the issue, it always ends up with me trying to fill in the blanks.
I'm tired of explaining that he didn't mean "no" he only meant "not just yet".
Is this what a biological clock feels like ? To me - it's a matter of pride and general courtesy.
Is this why I'm freaking out - because I'm getting old and I feel miles away from the finish line?

It may not be fair to ask your mate to trade in his freedom and independent goals for a combined goal of happiness. But is it fair that I can't enjoy the prospect of being a wife and mother even if "we aren't ready". I can't see how my dreams are not taken more seriously.
It's enough to ruin us.

Being happy never seems enough.




Look at all that free generosity ! Email me with any questions or feedback about the Blogger Auctions and I will print them in a post sometime.

The auctions are offically over !! All up over 2000$ worth of free stuff, 1050 comments and over ten thousand unique visitors.

Countless friends made, traffic shared and a whole new way of being cool.

Well done my friends

Hope you all had fun XXX

Tuesday, February 08, 2005

Heroinegirl's New Blog

Hello lovelies !!!

Welcome back to normal programming and I hope you all enjoyed the auctions.
I must say it was worth the gruelling 12 hour shifts until I organised a proper system.
I hope you all got something real nice and pretty.
So what's in the future for Heroinegirl The Blog ?
I'm so glad you asked. I will be doing a few more memoirs and then we will be taking a shift in direction. In order for me to complete my book and for the material to be original , I'm going to start to focus on writing the manuscript. Now, of course this doesn't mean I won't be blogging ( are you serious) in fact it means that I'm moving into the future.
This is my new blog
The honest and rawness you have come to expect from Heroinegirl will continue but now I will be sharing stories of others as well as myself. It will be a place where you may even be asked to share one of your memoirs or maybe be asked a question that we all want answered.
Most sharers will be anonymous.

It's going to be slightly journalistic in that subjects will be topical and thought-provoking.
I'm very excited about this project and I will continue to write memoirs as long as I feel the need to. Both the blogs are linked - so really you have two choices now instead of one.