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A Day in the Life

Discussion in 'Heroin ~ Addiction and Recovery' started by spring, Dec 30, 2003.

  1. spring

    spring Administrator

    Some posts I read in another thread brought up some visions and memories while in the depths of my addiction long ago.

    The descent down into the pits of hell we call addiction is a rough and scary ride. Once hitting bottom, the ability to crawl out of that hole is even tougher.

    I can remember being so sick of my addiction that when I went to bed one night, I decided that this was IT. When I woke up I was going to stay at home and kick this thing.

    I slept all day and when I woke up I was in a panicky sweat. It was dark out and I was sicker than sick. I had waited too long in between fixes.

    Forgetting, or not caring about the promise I made to myself the night before, I called one of my dealers.

    I could barely see to drive through the tears. I remember when I used to be excited to be on my way to score. Now I often cry all the way there.
    I know what I SHOULD be doing, but it's a "different" me who takes over. A me who is way too strong to fight.

    I could barely stand, had maybe just enough money to buy me some relief in a bag. Actually I was $2. or $3. short which can be a bad scene sometimes.

    It is pitch dark outside and I am sitting in a car waiting.....and waiting....and waiting.

    The man didn't show so I had to go in search of a payphone to call him again.
    I had no change. There were no stores close by where I could break one of the few dollar bills I had to my name, and even if there was then I would have to use some of it a on a phone call and that would make me even shorter.
    I went in search of a pay phone anyway, not sure how much gas I had left because I am driving an old junker that doesn't have a working gas gauge.

    I find a seedy little store on a dark corner in a neighborhood full of crackheads and hookers and their dealers and pimps, and just about every other sort of demonic/human mutant that walks these streets at night.

    I call the man. He is angry that I called him again. He says he will be there in 5 minutes.

    After another 40 minute wait he shows up. He has buddies with him so the power trip manifests and he gives me an ultimatum.

    The man can be a real jerk at times. The sicker and more desperate you are, the more power he has over you. Not all of them. I knew some good everyday Joes that dealt heroin, but there are many who get off on the power trip.

    $2.50 short? NO, if you want this bag you're gonna have to "fill in the blank".
    I am wishing I was dead. I sometimes think death would bring peace and relief from this type of life, but something deep inside keeps me from giving up on myself. I tell him to f**k off and drive away.

    By this time I am taking slow deep breaths to try and prevent the inevitable vomiting that comes with dope sickness.

    I go back to that same pay phone and call another dealer. He shows up in 5 minutes and accepts my short money.

    He puts in my hand the very thing that I live for.

    The love/hate relationship I have with this tiny piece of lottery paper folded up into a neat little envelope is a powerful one. It is killing me and deep down I never forget it, but my only focus at the time is to find a place to fix and shoot it.

    I am so much sicker by now that I lose my sense of caution and good judgement.
    I drive a ways out of the hood. The 12 miles to my home town may as well be on the other side of the world. I find a 24 hour gas station, pull in and begin to fix my bag.

    According to the officer, the woman working inside the gas station is wondering why I am sitting outside and not coming in. She cant see that the passenger is a lone woman. If she could have seen she wouldnt have panicked.
    She imagines that I am there to scope out the place for a late night robbery and calls the police.

    I have cooked it and just begun drawing my dope into the syringe when I catch a glimpse of a patrol car in my rear view mirror.

    He pulls up behind me. Without wasting a second on thought, I instinctively stuff the spoon and works into my bra.

    When he comes up to my window, he sees a woman by herself looking somewhat distraught. I tell him that my car overheated and I am giving it a chance to cool down.
    He asks what I am doing in this neighborhood at this time of night. I make up some story without having to think about it. The lies come easy for a seasoned junkie like myself.

    He goes into the station to tell the clerk everything is ok and drives away.
    I pull my syringe out of my bra only to see that it has leaked out. The syringe is empty and I cry.

    At the moment, my will to get well is winning out over my will to get clean. I briefly consider taking that disgusting first dealer up on his offer. I just cant do it. I scrounge thru my car, luckily find change and call my second dealer back and tell him thru the sobs what just happened. He says wait right there, he'll bring me some more.

    He knows I will pay my bill. The drug debt is always the first to get paid. At the time it is more important than my rent.....and yes, sigh! my electric bill will have to wait once again, not to mention that a car insurance payment is the least of my worries at the moment.

    He shows up promptly, hands me my bag and I drive off in the direction of home.
    Twelve miles is a long ways away but I get there, fix and shoot....relief at last. I am well once again. The depression fades for a moment, but only a moment.

    This is the time when I am able to think rationally. I tell myself that this just cannot keep happening. I have to find a way out somehow......maybe tomorrow?
    (written by Spring 5/2003)

    ~Do the right thing and risk the consequences~
    QueenOfTheBay likes this.
  2. ashley80

    ashley80 Well-Known Member

    Spring, this brought a tear to my eye. Made me think of things I did, years ago. How did I end up back here, after going through scenarios like the one above, many times? No matter how bad things are, we cling to what is familiar and easier - it's fear, plain and simple. At least for me. I should be dead by now, many times over, for some of the things I have done. Why I am not is either a miracle or some kind of cruel punishment. Not sure which.
    Ooooh, don't listen to me today, I am in a bad place. I'll get through this an hour at a time if I have to. Anyhow, didn't mean to hijack your thread. Just wanted to say it moved me.
  3. mallomar

    mallomar Well-Known Member

    I'm so sorry spring, I wish I knew the right comforting thing to say here.

    I read in another one of your stickied threads that you had some substantial clean time- so it still exists in you. You know more about this than I do, so I don't know how to give advice, I just wanted to say I'm sorry you had to go through this.

  4. artheart

    artheart Active Member

    wow! great writing! god, can you imagine going back to that? but we did, and some still do, over and over. i dont spend any time at all thinking about those times...i did recently, though when I ran out of bupies and couldnt cut the withdrawal i used again. All those nights came flooding back to me in a huge wall of fear and panic. But the withdrawals (I have 40 years of experience) were so intolerable on these old bones that until I cd get back on buprenorphine i had no choice.

    you should write a book!
  5. spring

    spring Administrator

    Mallomar, No need for words of comfort but thank you for the compassion. That night I wrote about was just one of many but was a long time ago. Somebodys post I read that day made me remember those awful times and I felt like spilling about it is all.

    Art, With all the dangerous and depressing crap we put ourselves thru you'd think we would be able to walk away from it and never look back. I WISH it had been that simple. Thanks for the compliment on my writing. Actually I AM attempting to write a book. And I am determined that it will have a happy ending!!

    I hear you Ash! I know what you mean when you say we should be dead. There is a reason we are still here as survivors of those long battles. Just wish I knew what it was....:)

    ~~ I can't....We can! ~~
  6. girlinterupted

    girlinterupted Well-Known Member

    I have said to myself many times that i must have a guardian angel.some of the situations that i am sure all of us have put ourselves in are shocking.I could have been put away or worse dead for some of the things i have done in active addiction.Just trying to get my fix was enough.
    That feeling is the deepest depth of hell.That is Hell.We can get better Spring can't we?
    thank God for that.
    I was very moved by this post and i am hoping none of us ever end up even close to that place in live again.
  7. Mic

    Mic Guest

    I remember reading this in May '03 when it was first posted. Change a few details, and I'm right there with you! Addiction takes us to a place where the ONLY thing that matters is scoring and using. everything and everybody else is a DISTANT second.
    I'm not sure whether reliving this for you brings sadness, or joy for having escaped. But, what a miracle you have become! I think everyone can identify with this. And to others, the "yets" are still ahead. MIC
  8. Oceania

    Oceania Well-Known Member

    That post really hit me. I think it belongs in a book somewhere.

    ~Take care and God Bless~

  9. Tonta

    Tonta Active Member

    O, that was a great post. It brought back some old memories, or nightmares I should say.I am glad you didn't give into that slime of a dealer.
  10. guest

    guest Member

    Damn, that story should be an afterschool special or something! Sure beats lame *** 'no hope in dope'!
  11. rolfasaurus

    rolfasaurus Well-Known Member

    That hit very close to home

    Big hopes in half grams.
  12. fbbdr

    fbbdr Member

    No matter what you did, it'll never make you who you are inside!!!
  13. adracull

    adracull Active Member

    Here goes,
    Springs story reminded me of one of the worst junkie manovers I ever did. I would call myself a spoiled lying brat piece of sh** in this one. I remember telling my mom when I was lying about getting clean that I had one last thing to do before I could get rid of all the connections I had at the time.
    I told my mother I owed a dealer just twenty dollars, and wanted to get him off my back and that I did not know what he would do if I did not pay him because he knew where I lived. The truth was I did not owe him any money and he did not know where i lived. On top of that he was a very nice man for a drug dealer.
    I took the 20 she gave me to pay him off and made her park around the corner as I said she would sketch him out if he saw her. She was so scared that she took off and left me a few blocks away till I scored.
    I remember crying as she gave me a ride home while I had the dub in my sock. She asked, "what's wrong honey, it's over now, stop crying!" I had scammed my own mother. A woman I consider to be a saint and one of the strongest people that I know. At home I shot the bag just the same as tears rolled down my face.
    Heroin truely is the devil, or maybe I was just too weak and am blaming the drug.... I just thought I would share this story with you all even though it is very hard for me to tell. You are the only ones that know now. Not even my girlfriend knows; who has been by my side for 3 yrs, and is in recovery with me now on suboxone...
    i have been clean for a month now and am still on suboxone and klonipin. Been prescribed to the benzo's for 12 years now..
    Thank you all for listening and caring..
    This website is truely a godsend.


  14. dangergirl

    dangergirl Well-Known Member

    Sometimes it feels good to get things out...especially if it's one of those things that you carry around with you and hide the shame and regret.
    I also have been on benzo's for over 10 years and am on sub...getting ready to jump off.
    I think it's great that you have a girlfriend who stayed and supported you through this recovery process...was she using also??

    Just wanted to say hello and keep up the positive attitude.... and if you ever need someone to talk to let me know.
    Glad you found us and congrats on the month clean!!

  15. ex user

    ex user New Member

    hey there all of you,

    Got to say that, all of this is so familiar, and has brought back some very bad memories for me, I have had many a day and night that Spring has yet again expressed so well, and yes it is safe to say that heroin is the devil, the person who falls its pray is usually a vulnerable soul, looking for some kind of comfort, in my opinion.

    I was once in a rehab in England, it ended up only being left myself and 9 other guys, the only other 4 girls couldnt hack it. I dont blame them we had to do cold turkey from the day we got there, no sedatives, no slow reductions, only quinine to help with the cramps....... I dont know where I found the strength to go on, it was probably the thought of having to get the train all the way home@{4 hrs away} having to find my way to the train station then trying to find a dealer who would lay me on anything near the amount that I would need to get just enough relief to get the strength to start thinking of ways to get my next fix, that put me off

    The thing is, changing the subject slightly, I was a kept junkie some could say, My partner was the one that saw to us keeping our habits up to nearly 200 pounds a day, at that time, he would go out and rip fruit machines, burglaries, bags with stolen income support books etc, etc, yes he near enough took care of everything on that line even down to giving me the hit.
    I had a phobia of needles so he had to do it, my veins were in a mess, cos he would always do his first obviously, but he was also an alcoholic, now as you all probably know, alcohol and smack do not mix, so he was usually on the verges of overdose, by the time it was my turn, actually I have lost count on the amount of times I have had to get the paramedics out when he has overdosed and stopped breathing.

    One day in particular he was so wasted that he was just jabbing the needle every where and it was just not happening, this day was a particularly difficult day to get money and I was seriously ill, even my other "friends that where there where having no joy even finding me a vein and by this time the blood and geer in the syringe where seriously congealed, any tiny grains of hope drained away and the panic turned to despair.

    The wall caved in around me. I was going to die, then suddenly I had a brainwave, I had 3 pound for cigarettes stashed,I phoned a taxi on my friends mobile then phoned a guy who had always managed to find veins on me where there where none, so armed with my syringe full to the brim with mess that by this time couldnt even push out of the syringe, I threw myself into the taxi, I knew that my friend would be able to salvage it somehow and make me better. I couldnt survive feeling like this, couldnt even breath.

    I arrived on his doorstep in floods of tears, please help me I begged on handing him the syringe, I slumped on his sofa whilst he got to work on saving me I didnt have the strength or the will to even explain what had happened but I didnt need to, he was a pro at this game, had been for over 30 yrs he knew what he was doing.

    After what seemed like a lifetime, It was as if I was semi concious I felt him gently prod my arms and hands then smelt the sweet smell of surgical swabs, a sharp scratch, then here it came that lovely cool soothing feeling in my throat, slowly I could breath again, could feel every blood vessel in my body coming back to life, phew!!! Relief at last, he was my saviour, and I never forgot that day. There were many similar but that day I really thought that death would feel better than the way I was feeling.

    When I start thinking of them days it does bring back some bad memories but also makes me thank my lucky stars that I am 99.9 percent positive that I will never be living them again.

    Life is so much better without drugs. The nearer you get to rock bottom though the easier it is to want to come off them forever.

    18 months later I still wake up in the morning so thankful that I am not waking up ill, and not needing to go and sort my self out.
    The only thing I need now to sort me out in the morning is a nice cup of coffee and a bacon sandwich.

    SPRING if I can do it anyone can do it. Me and the smack where serious lovers, and we where joined at the hip for years, and with a lot of strength I gave him up, have had a couple of naughty day but now I fill my hours with other things, so chin up girl. Sounds like you have got loads going for you and you could really help other people, but you have to help yourself first.
  16. spring

    spring Administrator

    so chin up girl. Sounds like you have got loads going for you and you could really help other people, but you have to help yourself first.

    You misunderstood my post.

    This was a scenario from years back. I wrote this a few years ago while I was thinking back about some of the things I used to go thru in one day just to maintain my habit.
  17. sam bailey

    sam bailey Well-Known Member

    Hello Spring---I'm a new member, new poster, old addict...and, tho I've been stumbling through the corridors of this terrific site for some time, this is the first time I've read (one of) your posts. You have a gift. Keep writing. Keep sharing. There is a light, sometimes dim, illuminating that deep, lonely place. best sb

    sam bailey

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