coldturkey

If i dont do it now, i can forget about andy. Even if i stop now, when this little bit runs out, im still going to be pretty weak when he gets here. The marks will be fading, but still visible, as will the weight i have lost...i wont have much of an appitite for a while. Its getting hard to find a vein, especialy first thing in the morning, & that desperate feeling i remember so well as i hurry to stop the shakes, the sick feeling the damm HUNGER to get that foul stuff in my blood, is back in force. When you are in rehab, theres no choice, you have to do it. Then its just the physical stuff to get through. Horrible, hard, but once it starts, & you are doing it & theres no choice, its doable. There are people looking after you. Encouraging you. Empathising. Here the main battle is with my head. As soon as the physical symptoms start, the brain starts giving you excuses, making up plans,its like someone else takes over,they dont care about people or food or bills. They just want you sitting, with that needle in your hand, trying to find a way in to your bruised battered body.As soon as this is achieved, they give you back & theres no drug strong enough to numb the self disgust you feel as you lose one more round to your enemy - yourself. God help me get through this. Give me the strength to fight.

Have neverfelt so alone as i do now. i havnt seen anyone apart from dealers & people who use, for weeks now. Andy phones me nearly every night, looking forward to coming to see me in just over a week & me with track marks up my arms & a big bruise on my leg, oh god what am i going to do.I met the dealer i used to se before rehab yesterday. hes still serving up, its a wonder it took this long to run into him. he only lives down the road. He said he d seen that i was back, hoped that i was clean. he seemed genuinely disappointed to hear i was using. he gave me his number when i asked for it, but kept telling me to "ring them up & get my ass back there," The other dealer too, is encouraging me to stop,before its too late & i start doing things i dont want to, to get the money. Everywhere i go, people seem to care about me, even smack dealers. What am i doing, do i really want to destroy myself & my family? am i so pathetic i cant face a bit of pain to get myself out of this hole before i lose everything? I struggled to get a hit this morning. Already, its only been a few days. my arms are a mess. ive lost at least a stone, not that i didnt need to, but thats enough. this HAS to stop. somehow, i must embrace the pain, & say bring it on. im better than this. I AM.

So, once more, it has come to this. Today i went to the needle exchange. I have exchanged aluminium for cold steel. My veins are not as recovered in 9 months as i had thought, it took a few attempts. I felt scared, but i still did it. i feel empty now. Unreal. I guess it was always going to come to this, since i first relapsed. My lungs couldnt take the foil anymore.What i have left will last longer...theres no more money for more. or for electricity or for food. theres 8 days before my next payment. if i am careful, & dont use the thirsty heater much, the electris will last 4 more days, tops. part of me wants to put all of it in one hit, leave no note & let them think it was an accident. The last 5 years have been dominated by this drug. getting it, trying to stop taking it, trying to stay clean, & failing.my weakness disgusts me. I remember how the attitude of the young ones in that rehab used to upset me, how hard i tried to make them see that there was more to recovery than stopping taking their drug of choice for a while. im always trying to help & heal other people, but when it comes to me....what? i know the theory. i know the score. i know im no different from anyone else who has a drug problem.im not stupid. i feel so lost.so alone. im not asking for symathy. i have none for myself. i am angry with myself. i must think i deserve this, else i wouldnt be here. i have had so much help & support, & i have thrown it back in their faces. how utterly selfish. and here i am, full of smack, & it doesnt even do what it says on the can. heroin notoriously wraps you up in cotton wool & stops you feeling anything. so why am i sitting bent over this key board crying my eyes out? why do i think of my mum, saying "oh my helen" & feel such pain? I cant write anymore. im going to have another hit.not all of it. im not giving up. I cant do that to her, to all of them, however much i want to. The price i pay is to have to carry on being alive. im sorry to inflict my misery on anyone who might be reading this. I have no one i can talk to, i dont want anyone to know just how badly i have f**d up.

I have to admit, I was tempted to just delete this whole thing and forget all about it, rather than have to admit to the people who are wishing me well & hoping that Im going to do it, that i didnt even make it through the 1st day. Thursday evening found me on the phone to a girl friend i havent seen in 9 months, who I used with before & who I had heard was still struggling. My 1st words wernt even Hi, how are you, it was (better not use her real name) "Amanda, can you score? im in a right mess". & she could, & so Im back to square 1, in fact its worse than that, cos even if I delete this new dealers number, I know I can always ring her, & if I delete her number, I can go to her flat, so Ive really shot myself in the kneecap. As far as asking for help from my family, I have put my mum & dad through so much pain, I couldnt bear for them to know. They are so proud of me at the moment. All my friends want to do is take me to meetings & get me on the 12 step programme which just isnt for me. All I can do, is try again. I HAVE to do this. What I have left will probably last untill the morning. Then the trial begins again. Sorry everyone, including me. I pray to find the strength inside me to get through this.

Its nice to know there are people out there wishing me well. It also makes me feel kind of shy. I dont know what i was expecting when i started this, ive never done this before. I dont know if i am going to be able to keep it up,i dont seem to know much right now. What i do know, is I HATE THIS. didnt sleep very well last night, & i still had it in my system a bit. Had the last tarry smear out of my smoking tube this morning, so now it really begins. Already, I am fighting the strong urge to get on my bike & ride around looking for the dealer.Before i get to weak & darent go too far from a toilet. I have already looked on my phone, under missed calls, in case i still had his number, but i didnt. Theres a horrible taste in my mouth & i feel cold. Ive been here so many times, the longest ive lasted is 3 days, on my own.It was different in rehab, but then i was far from home, & I had no money. Not having a choice, makes it easier. Its still a horrible experience, but I didnt have to fight my own mind the whole time. That is the hardest thing. It doesnt matter how resolute i start off. When the cravings kick in, that all goes out the window. I am so scared. I HAVE TO DO THIS. God help me.

Still have a few crumbs left, so was able to function this morning, went to the bank, first time in 3 weeks that i didnt then go & score. put more electricity on my hungry meter, next stop will be tescos, where i will stock up for whats coming. Even though it hasnt started yet, i feel wierd; shakey, hot & cold & scared. Im going to the shop, while i can still face it.

Well I did it. I have finaly deleted that number. My stomach is full of fear,i know whats "in the post". thanks to Jake, for the encouragement, I feel so alone. I have never been able to do this on my own. This time im out of options. My uncle spent £15000 sending me to rehab last year. I did a NHS one 3 years ago. This time its detox by blog. Ive got vitamins, beer, bubblebath & books. There is also a bloke, well more of a boy really. Hes 26, looks 17. Im 44 by the way. Hes leaving the rehab where we met in a couple of weeks or so...coming to see me. I have to be ok by then. Im shaking. This is really IT. I get to sleep tonight, after that its insomnia, crawling skin, shivering, aching bones & an overwhelming HUNGER for something that wants to slowly kill me. Mad huh? I thought I was an intelligent woman...shit, i AM an intelligent woman. I just did an incredibly stupid thing. Now i pay.
Bedtime. Goodnight.

One more button to press. I have deleted the dealers number from "calls dialed" & "calls recieved" Just the other one to go. The one in my phone book.I have picked up my phone & put it down all evening. I wont be able to stop with that in my phone. Its got to go. Stopping means not doing it any more. Sounds obvious, but i have met so many people who want to stop being junkies, they just dont want to stop using heroin. It doesnt make sense when you write it down. A lot of the things we think & feel dont make sense. That doesnt mean they are not real. My heart pounds, when my finger wavers over that delete button. My stomach turns over with fear. As it does when i think of the future that awaits me if i dont. One more day has become 20. Thats £400. That could have been a holiday. My lungs hurt. Thats the tin foil. If i dont stop now, the next step is the needle. Please Helen. No more steps down that road.

I have to confess. I blew it. Went out & scored again. I cant keep doing this. The money is running out. Im loosing the fantastic tits i grew in the last 9 months of being clean. My toy boy will be getting out of rehab soon, coming to see me. I cant be a messed up junkie who has no interest in sex when he gets here.Its not like we have anything else in common. And the sex was GOOD. I remember that. & it had been a LONG time. & it will be again, if i dont knuckle down & do this damn rattle. (cold turkey, for the vast majority, who have no idea what the bloody junkie is talking about.) Oh God. The plan was to cut down, so when i stopped it wouldnt be quite so bad. But im just prolonging it, it WILL be bad whichever way i do it. I HAVE to delete the bloody number. I dont know anyone else. Delete it, shut the door, & prepare to sweat. & shake. & CRAVE..........oh God. I know it wont kill me. I will just wish it would. Im so ANGRY with myself. All i learned. All I know & here I am again. Serves me bloody right. There are people out there with proper illnesses, suffering & its not their fault. This is totally self inflicted. I dont think I believe the "addiction is a disease" thing the 12 steppers spout. I was lonely & bored & didnt know what to do with the rest of my life. I need a purpose as much as I need to get clean, else I will be back here. (if I get away from here this time) Im hungry. Be back later.

So here I am. I barely know what I am doing, this is all new to me. My name is Helen, & im an addict. That is how it would begin if I let one of my friends drag me to a 12 step meeting. I would have to "admit that I was powerless". "Hand my life & my will over to the care of God (as we understand Him)". Get a sponsor, & let them tell me what to do, how to run my life. I dont want to do that. Yes, I know they have probably the best success rate at keeping people off drugs. I dont have a prblem with the concept of a "higher Power". God is everything, everywhere. God is heroin, God is my mothers tears. I am 43 days out of my 2nd rehab, & i have been using for the last 19 days. Long enough to have a habit, long enough to know Im going to feel It in al Its glory,..the streaming eyes, the sneezing, the hideous tickly cough, the screaming lungs & the mind-twisting deperate craving, as every cell in my body begs "just one more bag". I know the longer i put it off, the worse it is going to get, in every way. I have never been able to stop on my own for more than a matter of days. I am terrified. Theres nowhere left to go. If I dont stop,I lose everything. My flat, my friends & ultimately the family that have supported me, loved me & broken their hearts over me these last 5 years. If I cant stop, I may as well go back to the needle I struggle to resist every day, & fill it up. Twice now, I have got to 9 months clean & fallen back under the dragons spell. This time i have to fight my way out alone. I am writing this hoping that it will help me to keep going when it starts to hurt. Its a beautifull warm spring day. There is electricity on the meter, yoghurts in the fridge & a stack of books by the bed. I wish i could do the sybmolic act of throwing away the last of the gear. There will be enough left for one last smoke in the morning. Then the descent into hell begins. Let the fun begin!