a month since i died a little death

me and my mate always used to call “going over” (overdosing) ‘dying a little death’; thats if you get saved by the paramedics, of course. exactly one month ago today i done a hit of heroin and cocaine, after i’d been drinking vodka all day long. i don’t remember a thing when it comes to the drugs- i didn’t feel it hit, i didn’t feel myself loose conscience… i came round after about 15minutes with 3 paramedics in my flat, half-naked (they had to cut open my clothes to get quick access to my chest) and h00ked up to some weird machine. i got worse when they arrived, having had respitory failure. i didn’t realise how serious this was, but i actually stopped breathing. the paramedics said if they hadn’t been so close to my house, i wouldn’t of made it. i spent the next 15 hours in hospital hooked up to some machine. it was horrible. mike rang my sister and mum so when i got to A&e they were there. meanwhile, i was still half-naked and in and out of sleepiness. the doctors were very nice to me.
so yeah, i had a terrible brush with death. and it infuriated my family that i wouldn’t take it seriously. i would of done, but i don’t care. i’m back on heroin and cocaine. fuck. i just really don’t see a point; this is something that is going to be with me for the rest of time. i have to accept it i suppose. i feel so bad for going over, my family ring about 20 times a day each because they are so worried about me. if i don’t pick up they race round and knock on my door or phone the police to knock down my door. oh heroin. why was i foolish enough to touch it again after going through all that pain withdrawing off methadone?
been back to devon, back friends with dylan… i’ll write again soon.