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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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!

Wednesday, February 09, 2011

Abba to E to Mental Mania

I AM LISTENING TO ABBA. Proof positive if any was required that I am in recovery from SEVERE MENTAL BREAKDOWN. I found Mamma Mia down Morrisons for a few quid. The lurid red heart on the cover made me buy it as a FUCK YOU to sneery supermarket staff, so I made sure I went through the slow isle where a surly person serves you, not self service as I usually do.

The sneery looks make such purchases so much more worthwhile (shame I didn't get one). Same as when I pick up cig ends from the bus stop. It's always better when somebody's watching disapprovingly. One time one Jamaican man had the cheek to inform me "that's disgusting" NOT AS DISGUSTING AS THE EXTORTIONATE NEW LABOUR GOVERNMENT TAX I shot back. He shut his mouth then. He looked like a Labour voter. Sad.

I'm voting Tory next time as long as they lower taxes for the rich. I want to be rich and I want to pay low taxes so I'm voting for whoever lowers them most for Proper People. High taxes for the poor don't bother me at all. We already have them. It's called the Council Tax. The one I'm being sued for not paying. The one my solicitor wants me "severely mentally impaired" for. Now that I'm a hallucinating paranoid mood swing nutter on antipsychotics I might go for it. Unless I'm depressed again, in which case I don't believe I exist, so I don't bother engaging with forms of any description. Mainly because my depressed self believes it's natural and right that I should live on the streets anyhow. And that the answer for just about everything is a flat-fronted commuter train whooshing into London. (Trains going into go faster than out of. Flat fronts are best for maximum fatal head injuries. I was researching this issue that day when the BASTARD DRIVER actually read my mind and knew I wanted to jump. He waved arms at me! I know I've said this before but honestly how did he know??? I wasn't exactly hanging off the end of the platform.

I was blaring out this Mamma Mia movie when Naomi the Nuttery Club lady rang up re my antipsychotic problems. She said "ooh what's that music" I said "do you like Abba?" she said yeah. I said well you can borrow it on Thursday but she's already got it.

I have to say it's a HELL of a lot better than I thought it would be. I LOATHE that Dancing Queen song. The only Abba tunes I really like are Money Money Money (of course) and Take a Chance on Me. And Chickadee Chickadoo whatever it's called. I never actually VIEWED most of the film. Just smoked fags and looked at blogs. I keep forgetting to comment so y'all probably think I'm dead rude, ignoring y'all. I'm not ignoring y'all. I'm just plain rude!

Now it's blasting out at 2 in the morning with German dialogue. I love German dialogue. Double value on all my DVDs. I now have a good 16, purchased in the course of a week. Tomorrow I get Burton/Taylor in Cleopatra. I know it's crap, but I like her look and I Like the scenery. Main reason I watch films: bright colours, nice scenery, nice actresses.

I know I should be gay because I like Madonna and like musicals but seriously do you know what you have to do to be gay? Wear TUCKED IN TEESHIRTS, cut your hair REALLY SHORT. Snogging boys I've done just for the shock value but they're not as nice as girls let's face it women ain't called the Fairer Sex for nothing. So I'm plain old metrosexual. I feel desperately disappointed in this [I meant being straight is boring, but it's not boring, I was just being provocative]. Also gay clubs are FAR too sexual for my taste. I've been to a couple of gay-mixed nights, but didn't really like them. When I was a clubber my Big Thing To Do was go to Trade Club... but it never happened.

Trade Club was THEE best club in London. It ran from about 4am to 4pm Sundays. Heavy heavy banging hypnotic E-E-E-E-E-E-E-E-E music. Ie absolutely fantastic. But I never went. I went Sunny Side Up instead, which ran from about midday Sunday till around 9pm, meaning you could spend Friday and Saturday night actually having a sleep cycle, then go clubbing Sunday afternoon and be daisy-fresh (well as fresh as anyone on an E comedown can be)... by Monday. E comedown doesn't really hit you till 3 days later hence Friday night high: Tuesday blues. About half the people at Sunnies as they called it were spacefaced nutters who'd been going all weekend and had probably had twelve pills each by this time.

Trancy hard house: what I went there for

The other half were like me: people who appreciated a sleep cycle. The press often compared Sunny Side up to Trade because it was thee most banging hardhouse club I ever went to. But Sunnies was a normal straight club. I never liked gay clubs as I say even though most are actually mixed I didn't like the sexualized vibe. Clubbing is about being free and expressing who you are. When I was persuaded into a gay club, I stood out like a sore thumb with my long hair and non-tucked-in teeshirts and no belt. Let alone one with a huge buckle.

Maybe I should play about with y'all and do a protesting too much thing so y'all think I AM gay. Well I'm hardly out of touch with my feminine side am I.

Everything I tried just led to the usual situation in my personal life. Me in bed. On my own. Crying my heart out because I felt broken, empty, abused, confused and very lonely.

That was the end effect of Ecstasy too. Though I ADORED that drug, because it's not just a high, it's transcendently high. Cloud 9, 10, 11... going up up UP!

Everybody's happy. Everybody's smiley. Everybody free. Everybody E.

Then the E wears off and they become the miserable gits they are in real life. And after the after after after party, no matter what adventures happened between then and then I always ended up in my own bed, eventually (never brought anyone back to mine: ALWAYS went to theirs. I had a thing about other people's beds, other people's showers... much more exciting)... after all this I ended up in bed, alone and crying. Wondering why I had said what I said (E makes me ULTRA frank, to the point of friendship-damage)... why I had done what I'd done. Usually it was just me being a tit, dancing on the stage but on a comedown this feels ridiculously over the top)... most of all I felt let down and lied to. Badly lied to. So I curled up in bed, crying again.

I had been to wonderland. A paradise so high I wasn't even dancing with people, I was dancing with fractals, dancing along a rainbow. I didn't just find the pot of gold at that rainbow's end, I picked it up and showered in stardust.

And then I came down down down and reality was just too much to take.

The last few times a kind of trip kicked in as the E-rush wore off. My books were dancing on the shelves. Everything was pink, blue, pastel coloured dots. Maggots in my contact lens case. I had to put the lenses in with the writhing maggots, telling myself they weren't really there. Telling myself this did nothing to diminish the hallucination. Then I took downers to sleep. I couldn't tolerate the cannabis most people toked to come down. I was on Valium (bought on the street, of course). Then I switched to heroin ~ far naughtier.

The fact that my friends disapproved only made it more attractive. I thought they were really uptight, snorting weak coke, thinking they were it. I scored heroin via dealers I met through the local homeless (my true home crowd: they never judged me, always accepted me. Only true acceptance I ever got was from the crustie junkies. My true crowd. Not the shoplifters or the prozzies. The crusties. And nearly ALL are dead now. The only people who "got" me. All dead. I'm one of very few left. So I took this heroin in secret. Because it was forbidden. Because it worked for me. Because unlike that coke, even the dealer's personal... it was crap. Washed crack cocaine: THAT worked. Heroin worked. In the end I switched drugs totally.

Raving and clubbing burns you out in a way not even crack does. Taking eight ecstasy in a night really does hammer brains and body. I was never into multi-pilling. I did 1.5 say at midnight, so by one I was flying. By two this dose was peaking and it was time for my second dose: one more pill. By three am I felt fantastic. by four everything was going full blast. Most clubs chuck out at six, so my 2.5 pills were coasting down luxuriously from six to eight.

Usually I went to someone or other's house, but was home by eleven when a couple of blue Valium pushed me down enough to get three or four hour's sleep. I never slept dirty. Always showered first. Showering on ecstasy is like that "dancing naked in the rain" song. Showering on ketamine is like showering in a spray of diamonds. Mushrooms added extra sparkle when I wanted it. Those were my holy trinity: ecstasy, mushrooms, ketamine. Ketamine was attractive because though I couldn't tolerate spliff, ketamine was OK to me. And lots of people were scared of it, which only increased its appeal (have you noticed I can be a contrary person?)

I genuinely loved the K trip. It's quiet and sparse. Very sparse compared to acid, which is sensory overload. On ketamine you float through outer space. One time I flew through the thorax of a gigantic metalic insect each rib clang-clang-clanging as I thrummed past it. The vibrations of ketamine (you literally feel a low-pitched vibration) were to me AUM, sacred syllable of the universe.

These drugs were my religion.

But you need to discard any ideas that I was somehow a fucked up acid casualty. I used E ONLY at parties. One per weekend. Any more was just overdoing it too much, you really do fry your brains on too much E. I knew about E, knew the bad brain damage neurotoxicity publicity so I took it with care. Yeah the last couple of times I took 5, then 8 pills but that was just 2 occasions. Through most of my E-phase I was known as somebody who DIDN'T TAKE IT WHEN I DIDN'T WANT IT. Even though I ALWAYS had it on me at a dance party (only the desperate score in the club where prices are more than double what they should be).

Like most drugs, like an empty glass once you fill what's full, what's as high as can be, you don't get any higher, the full glass overflows, the drug overflows sideways. Instead of Eeeing you're tripping. This is the law of diminishing returns. Didn't Jesus counsel "moderation in all things"? I'm sure he didn't have MDMA in mind, but it's good advice. If you WILL take drugs take this advice and TAKE THE VERY MINIMUM NEEDED TO GET THE EFFECT YOU WANT. Taking more is just wasting money, wasting serotonin, dopamine etc; wasting brain cells.

So that's me and E. Me and raving. I adored it while I did it, but eventually it all got too much and I wanted to do other things. I cleared myself out for several months but the mood swings I'd experienced since my early 20s were worse. I felt like the sea. High tide (me buzzing on nothing) meant a low tide was coming (depression). Heroin squashed my moods into a flat line and I thought I was cured of this cyclothymia. Then it came back ON heroin (ie heroin wasn't working any more). And y'all know what happened lately. Those mood swings were severe even by psychiatrists' standards. I know what mild-moderate-severe mean in the context of bipolar. Now I have bipolar symptoms.

The doctor didn't use that word but he did say when handing over the risperidone script "it should damp down these mood problems". What I experienced was definitely bipolar in that I swing between two opposite extremes. Bipolar disorder is another matter and it must be carefully diagnosed. So I don't know what's wrong. But it would be just like me to be a manic-depressive junkie, wouldn't it?

I've gone past wanting an excuse for inexplicable behaviour and self-neglect and neglect of pretty straightforward responsibilities like filling out council tax benefit forms and sending them off. I got to a point where I was engaging with nothing. It all seemed pointless. I felt like an utter waste of space and a fraud. And I was usually able to put on a convincing front which confused friends and drug workers. It was Mother Hubbs, who says she was on lithium before she dropped it in favour of heroin (both are mood stabilizers) who told me I was bipolar ~ years ago. I thought she was exaggerating. Then I asked her more recently, "do you really think I am?" and she said "you know you are".

I don't know what I "know" but I know I'm up against something pretty formidable. More formidable than any drug I've ever tried. I mean this high I had not very long ago, the one that had me posting rubbish for days on end... that literally did feel better than any drug I've ever experienced. Now I'm down towards normality I'm pissed off, to be frank. Well if you got amazing free highs, wouldn't you want to keep them? It was the agitation, volatility, physical exhaustion to the point of nausea (having forgot to eat), utter inability to focus on anything longer than a few seconds, a total lack of judgement ~ not so much regarding should I or should I not do this, but judging what was or was not right for another person... I honestly had no idea... the utter inability to care for myself, the inability to think of anything without the idea popping open like a flower, every petal exploding with streamers and little ducks dancing down these streamers saying "hello! hello! hello!". Utter distraction. It was this. This mess that I could see I was in, yet didn't really care about. That I was hearing walls, cars, ceilings talk to me. I knew I was going crazy but didn't care. Yet I was angry enough at having been ignored, written off, misdiagnosed that when my druggieworker suggested I see a psychiatrist I agreed wholeheartedly. I knew in my heart I wasn't right. The psychiatrists knew where I was coming from. I wasn't complaining of feeling bad. I was telling them I felt EXTREME. And I was going very very fast. so fast I lost touch with my own thought process repeatedly. If I put food in the oven I didn't know it was in there till the smoke alarm reminded me. Well it's past 3am and I've not slept. Sorry to go on about my mental probs yet again. You must understand this is a big deal to me I have to reach some solution, some serenity, some sanity. If sanity is good then I want it. If it's boring: no thanks. I wasn't bored when I was mad. See I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place. I've messed myself up so bad I don't even know what "ordinary" or "healthy" or "balanced" really are any more.

I need a Speak and Spell machine. Perhaps then I can phone home. Maybe somebody will rescue me. I'm lonely here. Nobody seems to understand where I have been. I went to wonderful places more beautiful than you can imagine. And I was tripping on my own natural Higher Power. No drugs. If you honestly do still think I'm on drugs then do yourself a favour and stop reading this blog, because you're totally missing my point.

Well this has gone on long enough. From Abba to Ecstasy to me being a nutter. What's new. Take it easy people. Sorry if this is a mess. I'm not editing, else I'll get uptight and won't want it to go. All I'm doing to this is spellchecking, paragraphing it out then BAM! It's yours to skim or pore over or have a good laugh at.

Take care, lots of love


PS I can just tell someone is going to read this and assume I only took heroin to be "naughty" I had many motivations. Its deadliness was a big one. The fact it made me FEEL BETTER was what kept me taking heroin. "Self-medication" as the nurse who never medicated me (did she think heroin was a good thing?) used to spout...

The flakes on the spoon are ketamine, cooked down from medical ketamine for injection into dried ketamine salts, which are snorted up the nose. Ketamine is NOT horse tranquillizer. It's a dissociative agent used for emergency anaesthesia and pain relief where more diamorphine is not appropriate. IF YOU HEAVILY ABUSE KETAMINE WITH HEROIN AND HAVE A BAD ACCIDENT, DOCTORS MAY HAVE GREAT DIFFICULTY ADMINISTERING ADEQUATE PAIN RELIEF... YET ANOTHER REASON TO GO EASY!


fully original version
don't anna frid and agnetha look a bit like men in drag?...??


This tune is the kind of stuff I used to go E-E-Eing to. Without the tacky voiceover. And less cheesy eurotrance. More hardhouse with trance on top. Or hard Goa (late 90s Return to the Source type clubs were my favourite parties; tranced-up hardhouse was my favourite music)
shall i add a few more dance musical terms just to confuse you more if you're not into this shit? hardcore-jungle-tekno, drum & bass, speed garage, grime, deep house, trip-hop, amyl house, psy-trance, gabba, acid techno! There ya have it!!


bugerlugs63 said...

enjoyed that abba e post.
made me laf which is not easy at half 8.
i was big into e's 2 "E by bum" ;)
saved the yucky gut!
and yes its just another dirty fucking liar.
and prob led a lot of folk 2 H
thats y i did it, to help the come down
managed 2 get 2 38 without
seeing brown.
had done eveything else but really thought one had to inject H
i dont mind needles but thought it just put u sleep and as i never had any prob putting myself sleep dint c point, UNtil . . .
i couldn't sleep.
and someone told me u could SMOKE it!!
yay (and u wont get addicted smoking just weekends) double yay!!
ten years on . . . ha ha bloody HAR
as u so often put it.
gotta go to the nuthouse that is ASDA.
with my inner 3 yr old and a my outer one (hamper girl)
catch u later
ta 4 laf x

chiquitita is such a good song :>)

Gledwood said...

Hi Buggalugz ;-)

You know I spent AGES tapping in a comment then me power failed so I'll save you the verbiosity and be BRIEF as a pair of my undies (doncha just hate boxers, no holdy in-ness, that would be like a boxer shorts bra, pointless. I wear trunks or non y-fronts speedo things yeah I know you wanted to know that but I'm very underwear conscious now I NEED SOME NEW FUCKERS I'M FED UP OF MY OLD SHITTY CLOTHES:

~ e to b yeah, my friends weren't into b but the homeless posse were and as i said they accepted me for who i was so gradually i transferred friends from people who thought i was a buzz-killer for daring to be depressed to people who didn't give a shit about that. gave a shit about me, not my misery which was really the first time ever i have been accepted for who i really am, how i suffered, what i felt. for once in my life

~ heroin made me feel good, hence the habit. it did what coke seems to do to saddo coke snorters. i used to snort china white when i had it, otherwise i smoked b. then some fucker left needles in my room (who am i callinga a fucker ~ my lovely ex who was like courtney love to me who is a bit kurt cobain i used to look a bit like him and probably have a similar personality though i'd say i'm actually fierier than kurt, when i'm off on one i'm REALLY OFF ON ONE

~ i've been manic dvd shopping. bought 25 this week... only £60. that's only a 20b 3 days in a row so fuckit

~ can i ask you something just ignore if it's too personal but you sound bipolar to me, have you been diagnosed bipolar?

it's just i have this issue where i read those shit arse diagnosic criteria for bipolar BY ACCIDENT this time as i'm avoiding any psychiatry sites unless i have a specific query... anyway i satisfy EVERY SINGLE ONE bam bam bam bam bam bam bam for mania and depression right up to severe with psychotic features which PISSES THE LIVING SHIT OUT OF ME AS I TOLD THE CLINIC I HAD MOOD PROBLEMS AND THEY DIDN'T FUCKING BELIEVE ME yeah they listened yeah yeah bullshit bullshit... then they came up with some PERSONALITY DISORDERS THEORY... ONLY ONE I MATCHED WAS BORDERLINE, which i'm not as bipolar is WAY more like me. i looked up "substance induced mood disorder" hoping i'd get off bipolar on to that one because you just stop taking drugs and youll be ok... but i didn't match it at all... so i'm PISSED OFF WITH ALL DRS ALL MENTAL HEALTH NURSES AT MY FUCKING DRUGGIE CLINIC FOR LETTING ME GET THIS BAD AND NOT HELPING ME THOUGH I WAS FUCKING DEESPERATE, REALLY REALLY IN DESPERATE NEED OF HELP AND I ASKED FOR HELP I DID EVERYTHING AN ADULT CAN DO WHEN THAT ADULT IS SO DEPRESSED THEY HAVE NO SELF ESTEEM LEFT... and basically got FUCKED OFF.

Gledwood said...

hey buggalugz this wouldn't fit in one box so here's PART 2!

i don't know whether i am bipolar i know psychiatry is a bullshit science but it DOES SEEM STRANGE to be depressed then manic then depressed then hypomanic then depressed then full on manic with paranoia and psychosis... now i'm off meds and feeling hypomanic i don't know what else to call it... buying dvds like crazy and buzzing and feelling fantastic...

... yet knowing this is a sign of mental illness

as a former junkie on methadone i assocaite highs with drugs which is why i can feel high and think "hmmm, who spiked me?" y'know

i won't go on i just need a fucking diagnosis for these shittty govt forms i'm fed up with everyone, not you, everyone at that shitto drug clinic the fuckers

i'm really gonna go at my old worker if i see the bitch this afternoon

~ you gotta go ASDA? aren't they the cheapest and best re selection? do they do good dvds? buy me 10 i'll reimburse you i'm buying 3, 5, 9 at a time these days

see it's money that would have gone on gear

buggalugz please take care of yourself and forgive my impertinent question if it was rude i didn't mean to be rude i'm just curious rsvp

sorry REALLY gotta run now gotta go fucking drug worker appt.

take it easy!!! :-)


Gledwood said...



i wasn't one of those misery buzzkiller ravers, what i mean is i had a fucking fantastic time nearly all the time but on one particular occasion when i hadn't done e i'd actually done methadone for kicks and everybody thought i was on ketamine i got a bit over emotional and needed someone to talk to they were both v understanding but i knew i was spoiling their night

when i was with the crusties i never got that sense that they were "making time" for me, as i say they accepted me straight up whatever mood i was in and at the time, as i was going off e anyway, i really appreciated that

sorry if i went on i have a lot to say

right i have to jump in shower and OFF! righty ho take it EASY ;-)

John said...

Hey Gledwood - this has been one of the first posts of yours that has made me laugh.

I've been reading since the drought back in Nov, and I'm rooting for you.


Jess Mistress of Mischief said...

Good sponsorship suggested STRONGLY (that means, Jessie you can do what you want but if you want to get better, comply with this direction without debate) to me, "avoid psychiatric and intelligent inquiry on the net completely! If you have an inquiry of psych nature ask your psychiatrist. FAR less dangerous than your psychotic mind seeking information without close professional supervision."

"And trust me Jessie, a mind like yours with that much stuff flowing out of it is a dangerous place for you to think alone."

Gled, your posts are so long and take so many different directions and side-roads in the subjects that I can't honestly keep up. The more you look up and try to explain things as you are understanding them, the more frightening the picture becomes as I read.

(Just a suggestion since your posts look so much like what my posts did as I came in, and quite honestly still can if I'm not in close contact with my sponsor.)

You might... want to just allow your life to be simplified by ONLY doing what a sponsor suggests. And it might be a good idea to stop looking stuff up for a while, just let your sponsor direct you through the book ONE book, very simply. Don't complicate it, don't take your brilliant and reasonable intellect so seriously allow yourself to be a kid and just use one book to build a foundation of understanding of the disease that quite honestly is going to kill you. In the great progression of life, disease kills, disorder complicates your life. Which do you treat first the thing killing you or the stuff that is out of correct order?

I have a headache from trying to read the first few paragraphs of this post. I can imagine what it's like in the head of the person who wrote it, because I used to do this too, look up every word, every detail, read 6 books or articles to your one suggestion and come to great understandings of the world and it's people and myself. WOO HOO I was brilliant. And at night, alone with myself at night I COULDN'T make my brain shut down and during the day, I couldn't stop the paranoia about what you were doing or thinking, how I was going to get my life to work out, all the shit I'm responsible for in order for everything to work. I was screwing myself royally with all my brilliant psychotic crap.

Gledwood said...

John: glad you were entertained. Did you ever go to Trade Club? I still regret not having been, it was a legend. But unlike the other clubs where I often turned up alone and met everyone I knew inside, I knew NOBODY who went to Trade and the group of us who wanted to go never got it together. Shame because it really was bangin. I knew a DJ called Pearl E Monsoon who said she put up 2 fingers to Trade Club. She was a fantastic DJ

Jess:Thank you that is a very intelligent answer.

I asked the Dual Diagnosis lady whether I had a substance induced mood disorder today she says it doesn't look like it at all.

I've only googled specific queries. No anxiously poking through diagnostic criteria trying not to have them (did that years ago when things were indistinct enough (and blanketed by heroin) to convince myself nothing was really wrong)

you're making a very good point Jess I'm afraid I didn't read this until I'd posted "mentally ill"

but as I said I'm fed up of this issue and am consciously changing the subject from now on i really am sick and tired of anything to do with me me me being fucking mental it pisses me off, especially when I feel absolutely fine but everyone says I'm too fast, too intense, too this too that I don't fucking care I'm just enjoying a free nondrug high. I'm blessed to be high but not on drugs, it's nothing to complain about! I'm giving up meds for a week so I can get hopefully more euphoric and get that 10 million volts feeling back

you know i actually said to them being hyper isn't by itself any sort of illness even when sleep disturbance and loads of other shit is involved but nobody listened

i have an idea for a sponsor who is a woman who I can't even imagine smoking crack she seems so together... i was going to ask her to be my Special Sponsor, then I'll find a male heroin addict to be my Main Sponsor as well. Better to have too many sponsors than too few!

I really like this woman and she likes me there's nothing sexual there she's just really cool and has taken time to talk to me and I'd be honoured if she'd Special Sponsor me ~ I can't ask her till next Monday when I see her again but I'll make sure I do ask her

Gattina said...

Wow ! that was a waterfall of a post ! Unfortunately I couldn't read it all I have painters here in the house and it's a mess.

Gledwood said...

i know it's a mess it needs painting over

my post, not your house

Gattina I have seen your house in many a post and it is a lot of things like tasteful homely nice

a mess it ain't!



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

Copyright 2011 by Gledwood