21 today!

what is more unbelievable, i have actually made my 21st birthday or the prospect that i can actually break away from heroin? who knows, i don’t care right now. i am actually pretty happy, which, i haven’t been in years, even on my birthday. probably because heroin waits for nobody, and doesn’t give you a day off on holidays & special occassions… they are like any other day. you still get ill, you still have to get money, to score. i had a wonderful day yesterday with my momma and my sister. we went shopping, got me a nice hotpink ipod nano, a beautiful coat, make-up, mittens etc. it wasn’t what i got materially, it was the time spent with the family, something we haven’t done in a while. it was such a giggle. later today we will pick up the twins from school and take them to my nans where we will have a piss-up. we were going to go out to eat but i didn’t fancy it. id rather stay in, i’m not ready to face the world without being obliterated. and i dont want to be obliterated infront of the kids. i will meet my sis during today, she finishes uni at 12. i had a wicked day before yesterday, spent it with tom llyod. nice he remembered/bothered. had such a giggle but anyway, must go, i need to do my hair and what an ordeal that is.
subutex is working great. works fine, agrees with me, no problems. i actually pretty much forget about drugs when im occupied, until i see my arms or legs that is, but i have been assured they will go in time.

HAPPY NEW YEAR FROM THE POLICE!

whoever fucking decided to raid a 20 year old girls flat who doesn’t have a criminal record is a fucking twat. sorry, but did any police watch me? they couldn’t of because i wasn’t even anywhere near my house for weeks. so if i didn’t go to my flat for ages, why would my flat be full of drugs? what, you think a junkie is going to leave loads of heroin and crack in their flat but not visit it and devour them? duh. i know who provided this ‘information’ aka bollox. they were obviously pissed off they couldn’t find anything because they gave up searching (they didn’t even break open all my locked cupboards, my safe etc. as i think they got the picture i had nothing. but if i did, twats didn’t open the most obvious hiding place). BUT NOT WITHOUT smashing shit loads of my stuff. i had a massive oil painting of me that they smashed apart (presumebly to look inside for drugs?) which will cost me a bomb to fix. they smashed all my plates, cups etc. by just swiping all my kitchen cupboard contents onto the floor. they tipped out all my fabrics, trimmings etc. on the floor, smashing loads of glass beads, smashing my acrylic paints open. now i have to get a solicitor to claim back all the damage INCLUDING the fact they broke down my door, didn’t secure it, and i got burgled. yes, i got burgled as a result. i can’t believe this, i just want peace and quiet. the police took one look at why the door was so easy to re-break (a drugs raid; even though i was found 100% innocent with no drugs) and didn’t give a fuck about helping me. he arrested and bailed the two found guilty for it but are they going to get charged? are they fuck! they don’t want to help a junkie but if i were a middle-class mother of two they would of sat me down, consolled me and done everything in their power to bring the two to justice. police, why are you such bastards? my mum is a nurse and when somebody with self-inflicted injuries comes in (Whether its an alcoholic with liver disease, a self-harmer with an injury that needs stitching or an anorexic with severe life-threatening malnutrition) SHE CANNOT AND DOESN’T AND WOULDN’T DREAM OF GOING “hmmm… they bought it on themselves, sorry. not going to treat you. next.” but police can do that, and they do.
soooo… on another note. i had a good time in bradford. however, i went clubbing, came out at 4am and yes, HEROIN AND CRACK COCAINE FOUND ME! even though i don’t have a clue who to score off there. a person begging outside the club asked for a cig and i gave them one, she saw my arms and said “oh god, you don’t look like your on gear but thats a bit of a fucking giveaway, you want to cover them up girl. though i suppose, non-junkies won’t know, will they?” so yes. i spent £60 on drugs and went to some filthy crack den before returning to my hotel and telling my mum i had gone for a curry. gone for a curry? i went for a big massive hit and the reason i was falling asleep so much the next morning while watching I AM LEGEND is because i saved a £15 bag, shot it up and it knocked me for six when combined with no sleep, methadone & loads of booze. i might aswell kiss goodbye my life now. im going to go over one of these days.
i’ll be brown bread before i know it.

My 20th Birthday

Its my 20th birthday today. October 1st 1987. Its also my best friend Tom Bs birthday. I still say best friend even though I haven’t seen him in ages, but since secondary school, which was St Bedes, we were great friends. There were four of us; me and him, my best friend Helen who I have known since I was 7 (our mums are best friends, so are our sisters) and Joe Minervino. Our birthdays all fell within one week of each others, and in me and Toms case, on the same day- same time, same hospital, same year. We were never apart. Joe killed himself not long after his 18th birthday, which we never expected and devestated everyone that knew him. Helen… I don’t see her much anymore. She is 5 months pregnant, an alcoholic who is being given a couple of years to live. Everyone knew at school us 3 would turn out as wasters, end up dying… but not Joe. The injustice…. he is the one gone.
I have been depressed all weekend. When I woke up this morning I had nothing but one card and it served to make me feel even worse than I did. Birthdays are for celebrating the birth of someone special. All I have been doing recently is destroying my family and friends… I’ve been doing them no favours. My nanna is 81, and up until recently worked full time, was full of life, vivacious. Now, if she calls and I miss it a couple of times, the next time I answer and its her, I am greeted by hysterical crying because she has been racking her brains about the possibilities as to why I am not picking up, and she assumes the worse, that I am dead. Its horrible to see how I have, and am, ruining such a wonderful lady. She has stuck by me while I have had this ‘problem’ much more than my own Mum or anyone else. And I fear as if she will soon be gone. She has started to give up, and I know it. And I still don’t do anything about it. It’s.Not.Enough.
This morning I had 3 20bags of brown and 2 20bags of white. Now waiting for me at home (I’m at my nans with my twin nieces, who are 5, my sister, mum, nan, grandad) is 3 brown and a white. I’ve been doing far too much white recently. And I’ve just recovered from the worse abcess ever. When it burst, I cannot describe the amount of stuff that came out of it, and for 2 weeks I had 2 gaping holes in my arm, you could see right in. I have killed my veins so I can’t get anything. So I’m missing hits of light and dark (snowballs) all the time. In my experiences, misses that contain crack with brown are so much worse. I’m due about 5 in the next month I’m sure. I’d be rushing home if I could get a hit easily, but I’m losing so many I don’t need to get excited about it.
Everybody I meet is telling me I’m so thin, I’ve lost so much weight. I’m used to being curvy, 10-11stone usually. Now I am 9 stone, so even though I haven’t noticed my family have and all my friends. I’m constantly getting put down. They tell me I suite being curvy better. I used to have bad problems with overeating and purging. Now I don’t have the appetite for anything. I go days without eating. The only calories I get are from special brew. I have noticed things I took for granted; the things your body does, like heal itself are no longer present. Cuts I make in myself take ages to heal and they nearly always 99.9% of the time get infected and I need antibiotics. I am run down, big time.
There is a cake, loads of more food…. I’m expected to stand around all cheerfully with my Mum singing happy birthday at me when today I met her she sent me a text message saying “You look like an absolute tramp. You are so skinny and you look like a hobo. You don’t have that sparkle anymore. You are nothing nowadays” She has been calling me these types of things for ages. Doesn’t she realise the more she says that the more depressed I get? Not blaming her or anything, but it doesn’t help.
I will write more tomorrow hopefully. There is so much to note. Things have been nuts recently but since my family are about (even though they read this journal) I don’t want them to see. I can handle them reading it tomorrow, or the next day etc. but I just want an easy day. My 20th birthday has been horrible. I just wanted to hang myself. I really can’t stand this anymore. My habit is at least £100 a day and I can’t fund it anymore. I can’t cope with the alcohol either. I want to wake up and not be physically dependant on anything. But instead, I wake up to ice cold beers I have set my alarm at 5am to get up for, so I can place them by my bed for when I wake up at 8am. Then I inject a big fat hit of heroin and crack. Then its to finding a way to get money to get more drugs. Please. I’ve had enough.

HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE!

New Years Eve was as predictable as it always is. It started out in The White Swan, with my sister, Momma, her partner and her mate Jackie. I couldn’t actually bear how boring it was, so at about 10pm I split for a little walk down Mill Road. I went to the store to get some cigarettes and who should pass me but Kearen & one of his mates, spending New Years Eve like any other self-respecting junkie, wandering the streets with a can of Tenants Larger in their hand. I stopped and had a bit of a chat with them. His mate was from Preston, where they both grew up on the same estate and began taking heroin when they were 12. Get to know them, and you will realise they never had a chance. Kearen bless him took my number as he insisted he wanted to take me out. “Umm…. would you like to go to the pictures with me sometime. And for something to eat afterwards?” so I simply replied “are you asking me out on a date?” in quite a sarcastic voice, as I found it quite amusing. I gave him the number, as I know he probably would never ring anyway. No offense, but why would I want to team up with somebody else who has problems just as big as my own? Before I departed, his mate cadjed a £5 off me which I didn’t mind as I had £100 in my pocket anyway.I went back to the pub, realising I had been gone for over an hour, and started sinking Tequila shots. I was having quite a laugh after a while, most at the expense of my sister who was so trollied she began speaking or should I say singing every sentence Soul-Like in a and I quote “in a tribute to James Brown”. Odd. Not odd, must of been all the booze, ya think? Anyway, we went over the road to another Pub, this one that plays Jamaican music. I hate this place. I won’t explain now but we have to go to Court in March because of an ‘incident’ that happened at the White Swan in the summer. Basically, I’m a witness to a good kicking as are my Mum and sister. The people that done it are nasty bits of work, completely vile and unethical. They go to this pub a lot and so do their friends. I KNEW THERE WOULD BE TROUBLE so I told my family not to go. Lo and behold, there was trouble. Actually, we managed to keep the situation quite down. But as the count downs went 5,4,3,2,1 no hugs, joyous shouting… just MY FAMILY fighting. Yes at midnight we had the biggest fight. After a while, I suggested we leave because it was just getting silly. We weren’t having a good time because it had been spoiled by these completely disgusting people.
So next stop, The Standard, which is the boozer I drink in everyday. By this point, it was nearly 1am and I wasn’t that drunk. But, about another 8 tequilas and 3 Sambucas on top of my normal drinks, I was very merry. I started chatting to a few people, but the night was already officially crap and spoilt. There was no salvaging it. And when I looked in my pocket, after buying yet another round I had NO money left. Fuck, £100 gone on booze alone! So, luckily I had my cash card and had to delve into my rent money. Which isn’t so lucky. I got chatting to this one geezer and we were getting on all right I suppose. My mum announced we were going, except, I wanted a kebab which involved me walking in the opposite direction for 20 mins. So I invited this guy back to mine to booze (I didn’t want to drink alone) but first, I made him come with me to get my chicken kebab. Bless him, he had a TWISTED KNEE and was on crutches! Ha! I don’t even want to think how I looked eating my kebab, while staggering down the road. Anyway, we went back to his which was right next to the pub we were just in and it was right at the top of this student building. He looked exactly like that geezer from Teachers, ya know, the lead one, Simon. And he was called Simon. But no, I did NOT sleep with him. No way. Instead, I embarrased myself by getting out of my beautifully sexy red corset that hid every lump and bump and my tight jeans and into a t-shirt and boxer shorts curtosy of him as ya know, one thing I hated about being homeless was sleeping in my clothes. Not comfy, only PJs will do, or softer clothes. So yeah, I just had more and more booze at his. And we didn’t get to sleep because he had cocaine and I kept on insisting for more lines until it all run out. I said I would give him the money, but he refused. One of the more embarrasing things was well a) i didn’t have my make-up so I looked dog-rough and b) when i went into the bathroom i saw some weights on the floor so I thought it would be ‘funny’ to pick them up and burst into his room ‘weight-lifting’ and singing ‘macho man’ by the village people. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! I CAN’T COPE! Embarrasing or what?
So I got noooooooooo sleep because of the cocaine and I drunk more booze which made me even worse. The walk home from his is about 5 minutes, but it took me about half an hour. I was so damn ill I couldn’t walk. People were laughing at me because I looked like the typical “WALK OF SHAME” Ya know, somebody who has been a dirty stop-out and has to walk home the next morning in yesterdays clothes, yesterdays make-up and their hair all over the place. And when I went in the store for 4 Special Brew and Ciggies I felt awful as I was 1p short and had loads of people behind me in the queue. They let me off, however. And I should hope so too. My cigarette and booze tab keeps them open, alone I’m sure!
£130 down, a few years knocked off my life (or so it felt) and I was back home. I ended up after the cocaine wore off, sleeping until 11.30pm then getting up and staying awake until 5am… then sleeping again… really messing up my body clock. I was so ill I just hadn’t recovered even by the Tuesday. Didn’t stop me from going out and drinking anyway.
All in all, it was a SHIT start into the New Year. I bet that is setting the tone for how the rest of it is going to be though!