HAMSTERS & HEROIN: Not all junkies are purse-snatching grandmother-killing psychos. I'm keeping this blog to bear witness to that fact.

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DIARY OF A SLOWLY RECOVERING HEROIN ADDICT

I used to take heroin at every opportunity, for over 10 years, now I just take methadone which supposedly "stabilizes" me though I feel more destabilized than ever before despite having been relatively well behaved since late November/early December 2010... and VERY ANGRY about this when I let it get to me so I try not to.

I was told by a mental health nurse that my heroin addiction was "self medication" for a mood disorder that has recently become severe enough to cause psychotic episodes. As well as methadone I take antipsychotics daily. Despite my problems I consider myself a very sane person. My priority is to attain stability. I go to Narcotics Anonymous because I "want what they have" ~ Serenity.

My old blog used to say "candid confessions of a heroin and crack cocaine addict" how come that one comes up when I google "heroin blog" and not this one. THIS IS MY BLOG. I don't flatter myself that every reader knows everything about me and follows closely every single word every day which is why I repeat myself. Most of that is for your benefit not mine.

This is my own private diary, my journal. It is aimed at impressing no-one. It is kept for my own benefit to show where I have been and hopefully to put off somebody somewhere from ever getting into the awful mess I did and still cannot crawl out of. Despite no drugs. I still drink, I'm currently working on reducing my alcohol intake to zero.

If you have something to say you are welcome to comment. Frankness I can handle. Timewasters should try their own suggestions on themselves before wasting time thinking of ME.

PS After years of waxing and waning "mental" symptoms that made me think I had depression and possibly mild bipolar I now have found out I'm schizoaffective. My mood has been constantly "cycling" since December 2010. Mostly towards mania (an excited non-druggy "high"). For me, schizoaffective means bipolar with (sometimes severe)
mania and flashes of depression (occasionally severe) with bits of schizophrenia chucked on top. You could see it as bipolar manic-depression with sparkly knobs on ... I'm on antipsychotic pills but currently no mood stabilizer. I quite enjoy being a bit manic it gives the feelings of confidence and excitement people say they use cocaine for. But this is natural and it's free, so I don't see my "illness" as a downer. It does, however, make life exceedingly hard to engage with...

PPS The "elevated mood" is long gone. Now I'm depressed. Forget any ideas of "happiness" I have given up heroin and want OFF methadone as quick as humanly possible. I'm fed up of being a drug addict. Sick to death of it. I wanna be CLEAN!!!

Attack of the Furry Entertainers!

Attack of the Furry Entertainers!

Monday, July 02, 2007

My Story Part 6: Dealers; Libra; Xiasmus of Lives ~ my going down ...

I MAY AS WELL FINISH UP ON THE dealer-customer relationship while I'm here. Basically, the heroin and/or crack dealer ~ unlike the dealer in most other drugs, who tends to be a connoiseur of the substance in question as well as a nominal friend ~ operates under no such pretentions. He makes it quite clear that he is not to be counted among his customers' social groups ~ who would want to be considered a scummy junkie? ~ and often quite openly looks down his nose at his drug-obsessed "punters".

Many are "kids" ~ that is, school leavers with few prospects, who, determined not to get sucked into "straight" employment paying pittance wages, decides instead to run his own business and (pretty frequently) play at being baby-gangsta, hanging out on street-corners or driving beat-up cars with superb sound-systems. You could always tell the dealer's arrival by the BOOMM-shfffft; BOOMM-shffftt basslines of R&B or hiphop swing that emanated pavement-shakingly from their skunk-stinking drugs-mobile. Nearly always full of attitude-laden friends who stare you down. I used to call this the white slave trade. Black kids selling to mostly white junkies, many of whom are old enough to be their parents. Once they get the hang of "powder power" and realize that if the powder is good enough and the deals generous enough, the person will wait, and once the initial buz of driving about the local manor twice an hour, stopping at diverse street-corners, offloading stuff that, to them, is no more exciting than bits of stale cheese (crack) or dried mud (heroin) and returning home with more money than most people would earn fromtwo days' honest labouring, they begin subtly at first, to take the customer for granted. Sometimes they actually seem to feel they own their customers and have the right to pass them back and forth like managers transferring top soccer stars.

Because they do not touch the stuff they deal in, it's allure is utterly lost on them. All they know is, so long as it's apparently decent quality, the customers will come back and back and back and back; sometimes calling several times a day. They have little respect for the junkies they deal with. Though a false display of respect is often given out to favourite customers. How can they respect somone with so little respect for themself? Who dedicates their entire life to toiling for the cash to pay for this stuff that looks like mouldy old crumbs of cheese or dried mud?

There are, of course, as many varieties of drug dealer as there are of people. Some are personable and charming. Others are so loathesome and nasty their very presence is repellant to me. I can think of one guy in particular, who, if he's not serving a long prison sentence for violent crime or murder will be dead by the time he's forty. He's a psychopath with no respect at all for his fellow man. It frightens me just to know that such people walk our streets.

What's most bizarre about the dealer-addict relationship is taht, in the odd snatches of time that I've had to engage in detailed conversation with any of these creatures, all my dealers, without exception, have been supportive of the idea of my going through detox and rehab. It's not as if they rely on my custom to butter their bread. And, as I said, they can respect the notion of my getting clean. The true mystery to them is my addiction to that brown muddy-looking heroin. That they do not comprehend at all ...

*

OK. I'd got to the phase of Libra and me. Libra, the love of my life.
Not that I went all soppy over her. We argued frequently. But we were so very laid back and comfy in one another's presence it was clear from the outset that ours was a liaison that could run and run. We were two peas in a pod. And there was no need to "do" anything to impress the other. We were comfortable as ourselves with each other. It was a relationship that could have run and run on for ever.

We planned to get a flat together, but this never happened. Instead, for approaching two years, we conducted a long-distance relationship where I'd come to stay with her for a week or two; then she'd reciprocate by spending a week or ten days at mine. The absences, as the expression goes, only served to make the heart grow fonder and seemed to breathe fresh life into each new encounter.

The saddest thing about my time with Libra ~ and she very much saw it this way ~ was that she, tired of her ten-year habit, took up with me, who was initially, enthrallingly "straight" by the standards of her junkie friends and former lovers. I was full of ambitions and plans and had actually put some of these into motion. For example, I was writing a book. I got us both parts in an arty film a friend was shooting.

Living with six others in an arty, bourgeois, North London terrace in an area famed for its bars, restaurants, Z-list celebrities (EastEnders actors and Men Behaving Badly stars; also Fran from the band Travis) and general up-and-comingness, I revelled in this general atmosphere of optimism and positivity. Every so often I'd get word to watch such and such TV show because some friend of a friend had a bit part, or it was shot in someone I knew's back garden. One of my housemates got calls from Oasis and the Spice Girls' "people" twice in the same week with offers to appear in their videos. Oasis fell through but she's in a special Comic Relief Spice Girls promo that also featured five of the top female comedians of their generation.

I'm not trying to imply that life was in any way grand. As I say, I was at the very edge of the very edge of things "happening". But we all had the sense in that house that destiny might well come knocking to springboard us on to bigger, brighter things. The tragedy of our relationship was that Libra saw me sink from somebody on the brink of so many possibilities ~ down and down into a erson no more "special" than a thousand other junkies she had known.

Our relationship eventually ended when she switched from methadone to buprenorphine ("Subutex") which blockades the brain against opiates making it impossible to use ~ and thus went, and remained, and, to the best of my knowledge remains to this day, "clean". But I, who couldn't cease, simply went on as before and it showed. Badly ... it showed. I got hit by a truck crossing a local road and then Libra dumped me. I had a broken shoulder and concussion severe enough to knock me into perpetual daze all the next week. She told (on the phone) me that unless I could pull myself together she didn't want anything to do with me anymore. I could not pull myself together and she duly had nothing to do with me...

... And everything went downhill from there....

19 comments:

Empress Bee (of the high sea) said...

there is an answer gledwood. don't pick up. three little words typed for you from an old lady half way around the world. but said with caring and sincerity. it is possible. it really is. i realize that the insidious disease of addiction has a very high rate of going back out again, and death. gledwood you can do it. don't pick up. three words. just three words.

smiles, and hugs, bee

Gledwood said...

that's pretty much the motto of n.a. as well.... don't pick up that first drink or drug and you'll continue to be fine ...
thanks for the advice, bee
your support is much appreciated
seriously

all the best 2u

from

gledwood

Gledwood said...

I have to record this somewhere as it's a translation of my comment translated from English to Spanish and back to English again for the Spanish Poetry Blog that I just added to my links under poetry...

Good day to you! They will enchant to him to hear, no doubt, that I have added to him to my fantastic connections under Blogs poetry. You knew if you install a button of Babelfish that all his blog can translate English hardly... whereas the mine translates Spanish. Everything what you need you do is finding the sample of Babelfish in my sidebar straight and chasca ignited the Spanish flag. Whole my blog transforms instantaneously into the language of its ancestors! How cowardly he is that? Have an pleasant day and all the best one to you. Of Gledwood 2 of July of 2007 15:57

Odat said...

Been there, done that...but not anymore....."One Day at a Time", that's why I call myself ODAT...
If I can do it, anyone can!!!
Peace

Gledwood said...

Oh! I was so slow!
Never realized that at all!

Never even had a clue...

btw your avatar portrait thing is so funky

Anonymous said...

Hey Gled thanks for stopping by and asking after me, I'm okay and will catch things up on the old blog soon..hope all is well in your world.

Mary

Paul said...

I wonder to what degree the dealer-customer relationship is similar here in the states. All I know for sure is that our "war on drugs" is an absurdity. I guess "stupid" is really the better word. When something doesn't work and you just keep doing it, it's hard to think of a more suitable label...

Dr. Kenneth Noisewater said...

Thanks for coming by my page. How did you find my site?

You're a great writer. I hope you stay clean!

Crazed Nitwit said...

Gled,

Just visiting to get to know you better and be a part of your blog related support system. :)

Manuel de la Rosa -tuccitano- said...

Hola estuve mirando tu blog, gracias a la casualidd pasaste por el mio.....un saludo.

Nicole said...

Where does Libra live now? I wonder if you should send her your blog and let her know that you're on the brink of cleaning up. Perhaps once you've de-toxed you'll find her again.

Lo Kelween said...

i guess this has been a real tough journey for you. but i am sure you will do well and overcome it.

thx for your comment and your add at the blogroll. it has been a great encouragement from you too.

well, keep it up. and if you want to try out the meme, go ahead i will be pleasured! :) take care:)

Lo Kelween said...

oh ya...great info on drug dealers! love reading it..but i think it's better for you to space out your post in paragraphs... i have to strain my eyes to read it...ahha :)

Akelamalu said...

I am so wanting to turn the clock back and read that you cleaned up and stuck with Libra!

Anonymous said...

One of the best entries I've ever read, and most centainly the best description of the dealer/junkie relationship I've seen. I've had nearly identical experiences -- it's amazing how similar London and Detroit can be in this regard.

Such a sad sotry (you and Libra). Any hope there or is it a lost cause??

Welshcakes Limoncello said...

What an honest and revealing tale, Gledwood. I was fascinated by your description of the dealers and their attitudes. I knew nothing about it. So sorry about Libra - but you will find someone else now. I'm sure you will. You have so much to offer someone.

RUTH said...

Strangely enough for a completely different reason I wrote the following words on someone elses blog today. They ring as true for you as they did for them;
"The past cannot be changed; the future is still in your power"
Rx

Naomi said...

just stopping by to say hi. I haven't been reading in a few days and as per usual there are several new posts. I don't have time now but i'll definitely be coming back to catch up. ta ta for now.

OCD On A Stick said...

Superb writing Geldwood! I was enthralled all the way to the end of your post. Not many bloggers can keep my attention like that.

I WANT OFF METHADONE AS QUICK AS HUMANLY POSSIBLE!

METHADONE ~ A FATE WORSE THAN DEATH







Heroin Shortage: News

If you are looking for the British Heroin Drought post, click here; the latest word is in the comments.







Christiane F

"Wir, Kinder vom Bahnhoff Zoo" by "Christiane F", memoir of a teenage heroin addict and prostitute, was a massive bestseller in Europe and is now a set text in German schools. Bahnhoff Zoo was, until recently, Berlin's central railway station. A kind of equivalent (in more ways than one) to London's King's Cross... Of course my local library doesn't have it. So I'm going to have to order it through a bookshop and plough through the text in German. I asked my druggieworker Maple Syrup, who is Italiana how she learned English and she said reading books is the best way. CHRISTIANE F: TRAILER You can watch the entire 120-min movie in 12 parts at my Random blog. Every section EXCEPT part one is subtitled in English (sorry: but if you skip past you still get the gist) ~ to watch it all click HERE.

To See Gledwood's Entire Blog...

DID you find my blog via a Google or other search? Are you stuck on a post dated some time ago? Do you want to read Gledwood Volume 2 right from "the top" ~ ie from today?
If so click here and you'll get to the most recent post immediately!

Drugs Videos

Most of these come from my Random blog, which is an electronic scrapbook of stuff I thought I might like to view at some time or other. For those who want to view stuff on drugs I've collected the very best links here. Unless otherwise stated these are full-length features, usually an hour or more.

If you have a slow connexion and are unused to viewing multiscreen films on Youtube here's what to do: click the first one and play on mute, stopping and starting as it does. Then, when it's done, click on Repeat Play and you get the full entertainment without interruption. While you watch screen one, do the same to screens 2, 3 and so on. So as each bit finishes, the next part's ready and waiting.

Mexican Black Tar Heroin: "Dark End"

Khun Sa, whose name meant Prince Prosperous, had been, before his death in the mid 2000s, the world's biggest dealer in China White Heroin: "Lord of the Golden Triangle"

In-depth portrait of the Afghan heroin trade at its very height. Includes heroin-lab bust. "Afghanistan's Fateful Harvest"

Classic miniseries whose title became a catchphrase for the misery of life in East Asian prison. Nicole Kidman plays a privileged middle-class girl set up to mule heroin through Thai customs with the inevitable consequences. This is so long it had to be posted in two parts. "Bangkok Hilton 1" (first 2 hours or so); "Bangkok Hilton 2" (last couple of hours).

Short film: from tapwater-clear H4 in the USA to murky black Afghan brown in Norway: "Heroin Addicts Speak"

Before his untimely death this guy kept a video diary. Here's the hour-long highlights as broadcast on BBC TV: "Ben: Diary of a Heroin Addict". Thanks to Noah for the original link.

Some of the most entertaining scenes from Britain's top soap (as much for the poor research as anything else). Not even Phil Mitchell would go from nought to multi-hundred pound binges this fast: "Phil Mitchell on Crack" (just over 5 minutes).

Scientist lady shows us how to cook up gear: "How Much Citric?" Lucky cow: her brown is 70% purity! Oddly we never see her actually do her hit... maybe she got camera shy...

And lastly:

German documentary following a life from teenage addiction to untimely death before the age of 30. The decline in this girl's appearance is truly shocking. "Süchtig: Protokoll einer Hilflosigkeit". Sorry no subtitles; this is here for anyone learning German who's after practice material a little more gripping than Lindenstraße!































Nosey Quiz! Have you ever heard voices when you weren't high on drugs?

Manic Magic

Manic Magic

Gledwood Volume 2: A Heroin Addict's Blog

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