I bumped into a drunken Irishman I used to know. Last time I met him it was first thing Monday morning. He was vomiting into the gutter. My skin was crawling and I was trying to keep it together to just get home and prong the **** into me to feel OK again. A case of desperation shared being a desperation doubled. Today, he made me laugh and laugh. We debated the trials and traumas of crack-ho girlfriends. I described the grossness of "stirring the porridge". We high-fived over that one.
He was bemoaning the loss of his ex-girlfriend of fifteen years, who'd suddenly run off without warning with a random black man. I told him how surprised I was, as they'd made such a good couple. I didn't tell him that, stoned off her head on gear, his ex girlfriend looked like one of Jim Henson's Muppets. He told me I was looking really well because I'm rosy cheeked and have put weight on. I couldn't actually return the compliment because he was all over the place on drink and Valium and his teeth were in a dreadful state. He said he'd been off drugs for six months. "'Cept when someone like you brings round an Arfur..." (that's a half a sixteenth; about 0.875g) of crack. Except he couldn't consider crack without drink and Valium and a good dose of brown, "coz it puts your head all over the place".
Well I let myself down yet again. Yes, heroin. Yes again. Yes I'm bored. Bored and disappointed and wondering why why why why why? Again. Dealer gave me two £15 bags for £20. He'd kept me waiting for quite some time. I'd been so entertained I'd barely noticed.
I feel like such an idiot for using gear. Half of me wanted to lie here, evade the matter or post up something irrelevant and distracting. I feel like a weakling and a hypocrite for having given in to a momentary craving when I was feeling fine anyway. The gear has barely altered my mood. It didn't need altering. I was fine already. I won't ever accept excuses from myself for using heroin: but today I'm absolutely stumped as to why I did it. This is yet another day longer in active addiction. Active addiction is misery to look back on. It's ruined my life. I want out. Despite what I've done, I still want out.
The stark reality of Rehab is staring me in the face ~ yet again. Unless I can kick in this habit, the habit of injecting street heroin when I have ample methadone to cover myself. I can't see any other choice. Unless I can pull myself together there's no choice I can conceive of.
I just hope I can say this is the last of this depression. It's been dogging me now for weeks. Using heroin on top of it only made me more miserable. Chemistry aside: being a drug addict is a miseralbe life. All I want now is to leave it behind. It's gonna take all my strength to do it.
let's goa way
laughing Buddha: tapu