vol 2 post 1

I abandoned this blog for a while because I got sick and tired of all the responses I was recieving. I know that if you record your life and publish it for the whole world to see, you should expect to recieve replies, otherwise, why would you do it? I am by far too sensitive and as pathetic as it may sound, the amount of venom written about me by people living thousands of miles away who I will never ever meet or never ever know, actually really hurt. Nobody at 18 should be a heroin addict whose veins collapsed years ago, resulting in them having nowhere else to inject but in their groin or neck. Thats why I started this junkylife.com diary… I wanted to share what it was like to be a heroin addict. You see them portrayed in the media, and often not as true-to-form either. When I began heroin at 13, I never thought for a minute that I might have to inject in my groin resulting in Deep Vein Thrombosis or absesses and ulcers which could quite easily result in gangrene and the eventual amputation of my legs. Where was that in Trainspotting or Sid & Nancy, eh?
I thought if the documentation of my daily life would make just one person, whatever the age, reconsider choosing or using drugs then christ, it wasn’t so vain and egotistical after all! Not only that, writing is my therapy. I can never verbally speak about my feelings so writing is the perfect way to release some of the emotions bottling up. Oh yeah, and also, my heroin and alcohol addiction means most things are just a blur and I tend to forget them after a day or so. It is not all bad, I can have some good times and I want to be able to look back on them in a few years (assuming i am still here) and feel nostalgic. Or even better, I will be clean and the diary from my past will serve as a stark reminder of a time that seems not too disimilar from most peoples idea of hell.
I deleted my posts, which at times were novel length.
Not a lot has changed since I last posted, except maybe now I am on a methadone script. THANK GOD! Three months I have been drinking 75ml of methadone a day. Every day before 12:45, bar Sat & Sun I had to walk to the DDU (Drug Dependancy Unit, Cambridge) and queue up with hundeds of other junkies outside a tiny bullet-proof post office style window which kept the pharmacy staff and doctors in, and us out (our prescriptions are a major currency… everybody sells and swaps their methadone, benzos, amps outside like we were back in the schoolyard dealing with the contents of our packed lunches). We got our medication passed under the hatch. I had a major problem everyday… I would be shaking from alcohol withdrawel and would constantly spill my methadone out of the flimsy plastic measure. In the end, they had to go buy some drinking straws from the Spar Shop next door and I had to suck the disgustingly sickly-sweet sugary mixture through one.
The reason people have to go everday is because the staff have to carefully monitor you to make sure you don’t sell your meds or overdose or something like that. Some people I know have been going everday for 15 years. Brilliantly, after just 3 months I got told I could pick mine up from any chemistl THANK FUCK! People could not stand it but I do not care, I hated going everday and bumping into everyone. All I ended up doing was drinking with them all day long and taking loads of smack.
Surprisingly, I don’t do heroin THAT much anymore. I suppose its a combination of the fact I have NO MONEY and the methadone takes away any withdrawals. Scary thing is, I am moving into my new place today and I will be extremely far away from any friends or family- not that either of them speak to me, like! That means I will probably start doing heroin all day every day just like before. I hope not. Hang on, what am I saying… I love it. As much as I know I fucked up my life big time by taking heroin, I don’t hate it. Not one bit. I’m still just as in love with it as I was when I first tried it.