clean for a while

im knackered. lack of sleep. sunday night i was walking home and i got mugged of my brand new samsung d900i that i purchased a few days prior. i was happily going along listening to music on it and i just felt somebody punch me. tried to hold on to it for as long as possible but i couldnt in the end, which might of had something to do with him stamping on my head? a couple just walked past me while it happened, and i tried to run after him but he was on a bike so i couldnt catch up in the end. some lady in her house called the police and i was sitting in the station until 4am. i really didn’t want to, i mean, what was the point? we all know the police aren’t going to do anything about it. but neh, how irritating. i have a clean criminal record and wouldn’t dream of stealing off someone, so i find it hard to comprehend when i hear or experience first hand stuff like this. i just hope to come across him again.
apart from that, nothing new to report i suppose. i need to go christmas shopping. i have so much to get for people. i have an appointment on thursday for a new prescription. i have actually stayed clean. can you believe that? im drug free. it doesn’t help that the phone i had stolen had all my dealers numbers in…. or does it? actually, i think it does. thats good, right? that i can’t get in touch with them. might be the case but now i’m just drinking a bottle of vodka a day and about 8 special brew. great. Helen Tilley should be giving birth soon. Sods law it will happen while I’m in Bradford over New Year.
I get paid tonight. I just have to resist the urge to go out and buy a load of heroin and crack for a massive session. I think I can do it, if I lay off the booze, because I have no self-control when I’m drunk. And I need to give a clean sample for this weeks drug test. I have to. Of course, after my appointment at 2.30pm Thursday, I’m going to go and buy the biggest amount of smack and crack you have ever seen and hit it up into my feet like there is no tomorrow… and who knows? maybe my tollerance will have dropped so much there won’t be!

forced entry into my humble abode

well, im all happy and smug, carrying bags of christmas presents and the wrapping paper i am going to adorn them in. been trapsing all day buying presents for my family. been slugging my guts out making sure i have the right things for the right members of family.
THEN…. I think, oh, i will pop back to my flat. I get there and WHAT DO I SEE?
My flat has been broken into. The door lock has been replaced with a cheap wooden one; why? Because, the police have forced entry. Why? I DONT KNOW. ALL I KNOW IS THERE WAS THIS POOR PATHETIC EXCUSE FOR AN EXPLINATION ON MY FRONT DOOR WHEN I TRIED TO GO THERE TONIGHT AT 7pm. No, i haven’t committed a crime, otherwise, the council wouldn’t be telling me i could go get my new keys to the new lock. But, of course, I have to get those on Week Days, unless I want to ring the emergancy number, which is for… ummm… emergancies… am i an emergancy? i have had my lock changed, my flat broken into, i have no working keys, and i want to get into my house? is that an emergancy? i hope so. it annoys me that the council, etc. etc. have my contact number… they have THREE DIFFERENT CONTACT NUMBERS AND BEFORE THEY BROKE DOWN MY DOOR THEY DIDNT RING ONE OF THEM! why didn’t they? if they rung my mum, she could of given them my key. if they rung my sister, she could of also. if they rung me, i would of let them in. sorry, but they are crazy! i am completely co-operational… why didnt they come to me first before breaking down my flat door? all i’m thinking is, wow, what the fuck has happened?

good morning

what the hell am i doing up this early? well, it is now 7.10am but i got up at 6am. i didn’t even get an especially early night… well, i got into bed at 1.30am so i suppose actually that is early for me. i was exhausted, sitting up on the computer and as much as i wanted to carry on browsing through worthless websites, i knew i needed to get into bed. was it the £60 worth of heroin and crack i consumed in hit after consecutive hit? or was it the 6 special brew, double vodka red bulls or sherry i downed far too quickly? who knows. i do not know how my nanna does it. i am staying at her house and at 6am when i went into the kitchen to sneak my special brew out of the fridge, she was in there already. i forgot she gets up at 5.30am EVERY morning, then proceeds to make a pot of tea for her and my Grandad Geoff, drinks it then cleans her already immaculate house before jumping in the shower, dressing and cooking a kick-ass breakfast. 5.30am? my nanna is 82 on 5th December (note to self: go buy her present PRONTO) and as much as i try to fool her, she cannot be fooled, especially when it comes to alcohol. i said good morning, opened the fridge and pulled out a can of coca-cola and when i thought she was busy mopping the floor, stuck the can of special brew down my pj bottoms, shut the fridge, and with my back to her, began to walk back to my bedroom. no chance; “you are not starting this early are you?” she asks, to which i take the can out from my pj bottoms and proceed to put it back, accompanied by the lamest answer “oh no, i just wanted to put it in my handbag so i dont forget it when i leave”. i knew that was shit, and so did she, since i am staying here for a while as my sister and the twins dad are going christmas shopping, so they are coming over. i saw the twins last night. bissy is very poorly so i suspect i shall catch her chest infection today if i didn’t already last night (when she was on my lap hugging and kissing me). well, it is now 7.21am. i hate getting up early as i have even more time on my hands with fuck all to do with it. i think i might try and attempt a new layout for this blog. it would be nice to actually have a neutral layout that isn’t all junkified as my life doesnt just revolve around that, does it? oh actually, yes it does. but my momma doesn’t approve of the site but hey, what momma would? anyone that strolls across this site will instantly know her daughter is a raving smackhead, the least i can do is not glorify my lifestyle with a layout containing pictures of my drug paraphenalia etc. etc.

scared to death

i got up at 10am today, but to be honest, i needed the sleep. yesterday, i didn’t get to bed until 3am when the police dropped me off back home. no, i didn’t do anything wrong (ive got a clean criminal record). earlier on in the day when i met my ECHG worker danni, we rang the police and asked if i could make a statement. they said they would come see me in the afternoon. they didn’t ring me until 11pm at night and thats when they picked me up. i didn’t get back until 3am. hence why i was tired, and i had to get up at 9am. they arrested him at 4am in the morning and he didnt get released until 3pm. he would of been so ill from lack of heroin. even though i had 2 seperate letters he had sent me confessing and apologising for beating me up, my broken phone he smashed up which was still covered in my blood, and the injuries to my body- he was released without charge. i feel bad i told on him and he had to go cold turkey. i thought everyone in the street life circle would hate me and call me a grass, but everyone has said “you will be suprised how we dont mind you contacting the police when its regarding a male hitting a woman”. so i feel slightly better. i can’t walk down the street without shitting myself, ill have to see him at some point. i’m petrified. i am so frightened. i did a swab drugs test yesterday when i went for my methadone prescription. hidden in my bra was some clean piss (which i had just paid £40 for in the form of £20 heroin and £20 crack) but she did a swab from my mouth and i lied and said i was clean. riiiiiiiiiiite…. obviously its going to come up negative. bollox. i am off to meet dylan. i am so angry. pissed off. scared. i’m going to get my commupance. lack of evidence meant he is off scott free. i knew that.

stupid? yes i am

i let him round. i saw him on the street saturday and i let him walk me to score drugs. brilliant. i scored 5 bags of heroin and one crack cocaine. he didn’t ask for any of it, and he walked me back to my home, where he used to live until he beat me. he had no money left. he could barely walk, or talk, due to the amount of heroin/crack/alcohol he had consumed, but somehow he followed me home. i said to him, since the next day was sunday and he had no money, and Monday was the day after and he needed to go to work, I will give you a bag. So he came back Sunday and I gave him £10 to buy himself one. I knew he wouldn’t keep it until Monday morning so he would go to work well, but what junkie would? Come on! He came round tonight, Monday, and dropped off a sofa with his Dad. I’m supposed to give a clean piss test Thursday at 2.30pm and I hadn’t used today. He came in and offered me a hit of White and Dark (thats crack-cocaine & heroin for ya’lls that don’t know) and of course, I didn’t say no. I fucking hope i clear my piss test or mouth swab test on Thursday. Do you think I will? Jesus, I can’t live with methadone but I can’t live without. You get me?
I’m a vegetable on methadone. It is NO BETTER THAN HEROIN. I have no motivation, no nothing. It’s just the same with heroin. Though, on heroin, you have to get your next fix so you run around trying to raise the money. With methadone, you don’t need to. So you just sit and rot away. When I don’t use, I just lie in bed ALL day. I can’t get up, I can’t move. I want to, but I just can’t. Its CATCH 22…. go on methadone and you don’t have to run around trying to raise £100 everyday, or don’t and you have to earn that each day or youre severely ill. It’s crazy.
I look at Amy Winehouse… all these articles about her. I wish somebody would of tried to make me go to rehab, I wouldn’t of said NO, NO, NO. I ain’t got the money, and the state won’t give me it either, honey…. I wish they’d tried to make me go to rehab, I wouldn’t of said NO NO NO.

im a man of means by no means

I know every engineer on every train

All of their children, and all of their names

And every handout in every town

And every lock that ain’t locked

When no one’s around.

Dylan lovingly woke me up at 7am by continuously ringing my phone until I answered it. Even when I did, I was still half asleep I couldn’t understand a word he was saying. Just caught something about him wanting to meet later, which might be a bit tricky as I have my appointment to get a repeat prescription at 2.30pm and after I need to see Danny about getting in touch with the police. Danny is my ECHG (English Church Housing Group) Support Worker and she is absolutely wicked. So lovely. Coincidently, she used to work with my sister when she was in a childrens home. She probably finds it no suprise that I turned out the way I did if she remembers anything of what my sister told her and how she behaved. My nanna is 82 and gets up at 5.30am in the morning, makes a cuppa tea and tidies up. I don’t know how she does it. She came in at 7.30am to see if I was up and suprisingly I was due to Dylan, but I acted as if I had arose all by myself. I didn’t hit the sack until about 3am. Managed to drift asleep at the computer and drop a can of special brew all over her wooden floor. I always do that. Did it last time I was here but at least it wasn’t all over her computer this time.

I sing,
Trailers for sale or rent
Rooms to let, fifty cents
No phone, no pool, no pets
I ain’t got no cigarettes
Ah, but, two hours of pushin’ broom
Buys an eight by twelve four-bit room
I’m a man of means by no means
King of the road.

The reason I was so like that is because yesterday I was bored at mine and popped out for some cigarettes when I bumped into my mate Charlies Mum. Charlie lives near me and is also a user, alongside her Mum. Her Mum asked if I could help her score. I said yes. And decided to do so myself. I scored 2 x £20 heroin and 1 x £20 crack cocaine. I ended up doing both bags within 30 minutes of each other and straight after I had to go pick up my 60ml of methadone. THEN meet Dylan for a drink. I had a couple of vodka & red bulls to try and perk me up but I felt as if I was going to fall asleep. It was awful. I had to stand up to keep myself from dozing off. I had been using this great vein on the inside of my left wrist but on the second hit, I completely missed it all but because there was white in it I didn’t notice. What a waste. Never mind. I’m not a huge crack cocaine fiend and there is a little tiny bit left over.
I don’t know how the fuck I support my habit. My Momma says I’m one of these people that “Always falls into the shit but comes out smelling of roses” She is right. I do. I always find my feet and if I’m going cold turkey, I always come across money. I can’t figure out whether that is a good thing or not. Probably, otherwise I would have a criminal record the length of my arm by now.
My grandad is giving me a lift home in a couple of hours. I hope HE hasn’t been in my flat. I am petrified he will have stolen my TVs or even worse my sewing machine that cost a penny short of £1,000. That is my livelyhood. I hope not. I’m frightened to open the door. Or what if he is waiting with a knife to stab me? Snap out of it Naomi! If he hasn’t stolen my sewing machine I’m going to get cracking on some bags and some clothes, I need to make some extra cash for Christmas Clubbing Money. All those festive Do’s to go to… I can’t miss out.
Oh well. I’m going to carry on listening to oldies radio stations and dancing around the room trying to shed some of the many pounds I’m putting on. I dropped a lot of weight now my appetite has come back. Its probably natures way of keeping me well over the freezing cold winter period. Because as it stood a month or so ago, I was setting myself up for pneumonia said my mother, a registered nurse who is very well qualified to predict such a thing. Aparently, I was a prime candidate. I still am. Great. Just finished a pint glass of sherry and feel as if my esophogus is melting away from the excess stomach acid that is cascading up it. Know what I’m going to do? Pour another sherry? Are you crazy? I’ll have something less acidic, like a Special Brew.

drug addicted relationships

i got home, back to him, having not given a snippet away to my family about what had happened. when i take a picture, i will post it. of my phone (it was a samsung slide-y one, which he snapped in half, literally. and just for dramatic effect, the cracked screen is covered in blood where he ripped it out my hand), the big deep cut in my hand, etc.etc. ALL of which I blamed on myself. I invented some kind of stupid accident. Even though they were pretty good, they instantly translated the “i accidently” into “i was drunk and…”. When I got back from my Nans, after the last post, he was there. And he was a complete bastard. Not even remotely remorseful. He started again. So I did what I should of done and when my Momma rang I told her on the phone, and the only thing that stopped him from ripping that out of my hand and stamping on both it and I was she quite audibly said for his benefit “if you fail to pick up the phone i’m coming round with your sister as well as ringing the police”. I made him leave. I felt terrible. I still feel terrible. For making him go at about 10pm at night. But I couldn’t risk what would happen next.

His fury over the fact I am now on a methadone script and don’t need to score drugs to stay well caused him to be very nasty. Despite the fact I was on a script, I was being forced into getting money for his habit. How was that fair? It was as if I should never of bothered fighting to get on one in the first place. I worried about how, when I had kicked him out, he would support his drug habit. Since he was putting down a floor at mine, he had a key, which he supposedly left in his Dads work van. I am hoping he did, otherwise, since I am not at my flat, he could go in and steal whatever/trash it/wait in the shadows till I come back and stab me. I know he hasn’t gone to work, but has he really left it there? Or is it in his pocket?

The night after I made him leave, I heard nothing from him. However, my mate Dylan saw him coming down the stairs from my flat door. He didn’t knock or anything. But now I know why. At first, I heard that and thought he maybe just thought about knocking to reconcile, apologise etc. but got to the door and backed out. Why no, he went into my shed which is right next to my front door. From there, he stole my laptop, sold it, and proceeded to go back to the very same spot and cheekily do the drugs he had purchased with what should of been MY MONEY since that was my property he pawned. How perfect was my shed… out of the way of the harsh elements and even better, right as you open the door you are greeted by a lovely comfy chair that just literally screams to wandering, drifting ex-s “rest your weary bones”. What would of made it only slightly more perfect would of been if there was a working light bulb in there but, ha, there wasn’t. I realise now the git was shacking up in my shed until he found a place at the local homeless night shelter. I heard lots of noise but thought it was just my neighbours. No, it was him. He didn’t even have the sense to remove all the drug paraphenalia from there so he could at least deny he wasn’t in there, and therefore wasn’t the one who stole the things that were in there.

I’m rather bloody frightened. When I’m out walking, for example to the chemist, to my Nans… I’m looking around everywhere. The first night after he left I was walking back from the chemist when I saw him walking away from the direction of my house. My heart was racing. Not sure what I was quite scared of, I don’t think he would do anything in public, but thats it. Its dark at 5.30pm and not that many people are about in all the places I walk. I carried on walking and he chased after me “Two words… two words”. I looked at him, without saying a word. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. Sorry” I just walked off. Tonight, while I was walking to the chemist, I saw him. I’m 99% it was him. From afar, the clothes were the same, the way he stood. It was. As I got closer, it was him. I started to worry why he was just waiting in such a spot. Was he waiting to see me go to get my script, so he could go to mine and do god knows what? I am frightened to go back to my flat and find out. Instead, after getting my script I met Dylan and had a drink in The Vine at the top of Burleigh Street. Quite a wanky place. Tries to be posh and in the heated smoking area outside, there were these complete tossers from a nearby company. A young Asian man, late 20s. Talking about his office cleaner to the group “Give her whatever hours. I don’t care if she does 4, 5, 6 hours just as long as I don’t see her. All I want to see is her timesheet, but not her. The last person I want to see or have to talk to is a bloody cleaner. So whatever you do, make her leave by 5 as I never want to set eyes on her”. Dylan had his back to this loud man and turned right around to clap eyes on him to see what such a prick could possibly look like. The man knew this and was quite embarrased. We weren’t listening in, his voice was bellowing and he was showing off. I wonder what company they were from…. double glazing sales? When I’m having a shit day, I love little snippets like this that remind me of just how really shallow and crappy the world is. I didn’t stay long there. After, I walked to my Nans. Stopped off on the way home and bought myself some Choco-Banana Pocky, Turkish Delight for Nan and a Walnut Whip for Grandad. He just picked the nut off the top and left the rest till later. I want to swipe it but thats greedy of me since I purchased it for him. I could justify it by telling myself he is diabetic and shouldn’t be eating stuff like that….?

My prescription has run out so I shall have to see my lady at the doctors so I can get another one. I did actually slip up the day after he left. My mate came round at about 10pm and I was steaming drunk by this time…. I celebrated my new found singleness by buying loads of booze, magazines & cigarettes (he never let me buy them as aparently they were a waste of money), yummy blackberries + strawberries and pizza. And she knocked and offered me a snowball. I said yes. I don’t think I would of done if I wasn’t so under the influence. That is no excuse, its my fault, but I refused one the next day when I was entirely sober. I felt very guilty actually. I feel as if I’ve let myself down big time. BIG TIME. No, come on, just a slip-up. Start again from now.

I do feel so guilty that he has to go and find somewhere else to live. I worry about so much. He is in the local homeless night shelter which he was in before. He said the food is excellent (and he said mine was crap so hey, in that department he will be ok) but the only downside is its open from 7.30pm-9.30am and your kicked out inbetween. Sucky, especially since Cambridge library is under refurbishment at the moment. I wonder what he does all day. I can’t see him going back to work yet. So has he gone back to a life of crime? Of shoplifting etc. etc.? He won’t kick his drug habit. I know he won’t. All I know is, at least now I don’t have another heavily addicted vein to feed.