Response to Gledwood

I will look further into Psychodynamic counselling. Hopefully, they will have it on offer here. I was in full-time outpatient care from 13-17 but at 17 Cambridgeshire Primary Care Trust made major cuts to mental health funding and closed down its Young Peoples Psychiatric Service among other things. It was devestating. Any correlation between me suddenly going from having support to zero and plunging into a world so dark and murky and unsafe that I am surpised I lived to tell the tale. I nearly didn't, at both my hands and somebody who now has the perk of an indefinate jail term.
MEN... I was a late starter and only had a boyfriend once, nothing even serious. I called him that, but he wasn't. Not really. Some would disagree but I believe you cannot seriously romantically love and have a relationship with somebody else while on heroin and entrenched in the lifestyle. Or at least I'm speaking for people my age. It's impossible. Impossible. I never, ever could beg. I just couldn't. I'd lived in this town all my life, was too well-known, but most of all, I didn't have the guts to do it- and some say the looks. I didn't look "down and out" enough, apparently. Don't get me wrong, I did at times, but then I would hide indoors or in the shadows.

Peoples jaws drop when I say I am a heroin addict. It is beyond most people to come face to face with a junkie or a smack head, a skag head & a crack head and find that they haven't been able to detect it already. It is not how I look, or dress, it is my manners, my intelligence, my kindness, morals & scruples... most cannot seem to comprehend somebody like "that" could possess such things. That and when they think of junkies, immediately the stereotypical physical characteristics spring to mind- if you don't match them, they seem to think you didn't have "that much of a problem" and "it couldn't have been THAT bad" still, interestingly, they begin to more tightly hold their purses against their sides and check their phones are still about their person etc. etc. It is done "discreetly" but because I am so used to it, I see it, no matter how small their movements are. What makes it all the MORE ironic is, I have NEVER EVER EVER mugged anybody, stole from my family friends or stranger, or dealt in stolen goods. I know my family members pin numbers for their debit & credit cards, know where they keep their cash... but no, I just couldn't do it to them. Still people think the potential is there. The potential was there for me to get money at my expense, not my family & friends.
My so-called mates who are users have stolen my laptop, my sewing machine, my digital camera, money, mobile phone and sold me fake heroin or cut the bag and given me a .1 for a £20 (over 8 years, not recently!!) I could never do that to them, I learnt quick this game wasn't me, but I kept on thinking if I afforded people the trust and kindness I never was they would change. NEVER DID HAPPEN THOUGH.

Yes, heroin WAS CHEAPER. I used to when I first started take 3 x £20 a day which were a .6 at the very least. People would drive down from London, sell 2 for £35 or 3 for £50. It was usually excellent quality in those days, consistently good from the london lads. Recently, its all over the place, in the past year that is. You could never count on good stuff, but you could so-so to practically crap stuff. Its changed now. Has it got back to normal British people? I wouldn't actually know, haven't spoke to my old heroin pals about exactly what made us pals in the first place (and only thing really). Once it does come back, we are so starved it will be sky high and we will pay for it.

Finally, its happened.

I have been far too elusive, I know. Sorry for that. I have been clean now since late October. I would have posted, but to be honest, I didn't because I didn't know WHAT to write. I did not know why I was able to stay clean this time, and I wondered how I might respond if somebody asked me the magic question, "What's your secret?" Before when I have tried... its been an absolute failure, but perhaps that is because I had no real intention of doing it, and certainly did not have a plan, or the tools to do so. But having said that, it doesn't seem as if I have specifically gone out of my way to abstain from brown & white. When I get my money, before, I wouldn't have been able to resist going out and scoring. Then a little bit more, then just a little bit more... until my money had gone the day I recieved it. I had all the best intentions, and would genuinely believe I would start saving next week for whatever I had thought of next; my clean, sober life perhaps. But it never happened. Obviously, I was an addict for a lot longer than I knew the Ex, but he had also been an addict a lot longer than me, and he was financially supported by high amounts of benefits and significantly high amounts of money from his parents... so we differed a lot. He would spend his/our money in a day, no thought of budgeting, and once it was gone I would have nothing, but he could go and disappear and grab £100 a day off his parents until the next time I got paid and he would let his Mum or Dad off for 24 hours. Not putting any blame on him, but his drug of choice was different, and so I was in a dire situation (cocaine or crack cocaine) as that was so pricey, and I couldn't take his tantrums for money and I'd give it to him. Again, not blaming him, but its no suprise as soon as he went, I suddenly gave up drugs and can save my money. I believe what happened was as soon as he got his money, he spent it on himself, and when I got mine he would nag and nag at me for mine, and it would slowly drain away... and I resented this. He would blow his, and he expected to live off me, and when he scored and got high, it made me angry, so I would want to use aswell, albeit different ones. I wanted some of my money too, so would try to match him in what money he would use up. Terribly destructive. It is quite amazing how when you are with somebody, you firmly believe you love them, and you argue and split for a day and you can't imagine living without them, worry yourself sick how they might be without your care.... but as soon as I got rid of him, it took me about 4 days to realise how good it was. When I went to see some old keyworkers regarding my University funding, I came out to see my old friend Twin Beckie. She told me how happy she was I got rid of him, and she looked me up and down and said "just look at you.... just look at how much better you are," Simple things I didn't realise; him telling me I didn't need make-up, didn't need to wear 'those' clothes, didnt need to go out or do my hair, and god forbid I want to go out without him.... easy at the time to mistake it for love & caring, when really it is control and domination. I can honestly say I don't miss getting my books burnt, being held under a bathtub full of water, pushed, hit etc. etc. I never thought I'd be a "victim" of domestic violence and I hate to mention it, as when its been brought up people roll their eyes as if to say "oh how typical, what a cliche!" I have never felt so small or little in my life, but that is the point isn't it, thats why so many women don't leave or feel they can't.

So many improvements.... my flat is lovely. Got new bookcases to house my hundreds upon hundreds of books, done the whole place out, got my new sewing machine and have been working away. My stomach is still pretty bad, vomitting 5 days out of the week. I went to the pub yesterday and literally stuck to Appletize. That is the first time in about 8 years I have been to the pub and JUST drank a soft drink, its not me at all, so you know I have to be sick to do that! My drinking is slightly better, a bit up and down. I would never dream of walking down the street drinking a can of special brew now, but one thing I can't shake off is that evening drink! I live by myself (which I love!) and I just like to have that "wind-down" drink. It is so hard to stamp it out. Though I want to as I have put on so much weight, well, got a little chubby as I am just boozing and eating whereas on snowballs, I never had an appetite. However, I am telling myself "its ok for the moment, you have been an addict for years upon years, you are catching up on your eating. just join the gym and you'll be ok!" Gym is also good for the mind, all those endorphins it releases. Can you please motivate me to go? I don't seen to be getting myself there. I thought I might buy myself a fitness DVD but I have read reviews and its awkard to find a decent one. Though I know its best to go the gym. Its half term this week so maybe I should just do 10mile walks daily around Cambridge. It takes me 7.3miles back and forth to college alone! But as its been so cold and bad weather, I hitch a ride with my mum to her nurses job.

I have a UNIVERSITY PLACE! Studying Social Policy. I am just investigating the claiming benefits part etc. I want to work but it worries me as I used to work in Evans in the Grafton but my panic attacks & anxiety mean I can't even walk about the street by myself, so what hope do I have dealing with the public in an assertive manner? Exactly, I don't. Still, I'm just focusing on the happy news. When I joined college I was having to score drugs thus missing class, drink to get up, at lunch, at breaks and I had panic attacks if I had to speak infront of the class, literally, so bad even though I was on beta blockers (prescribed for high blood pressure). To think I went from that to this in such a short while.... I have been trying for years to turn it around. I prayed for it, begged for it... then all of a sudden, I just managed it. Not solely, but I do attribute some of my success to a) not having to go to the methadone clinic with all the other (mostly) significantly older clients b) not hanging about with ANY other users c) not going to places where I might see said users d) not talking to said users over the phone. I just got a new phone, so didn't save dealers or other users numbers but I had them right up until last week. I could have rung them ANYTIME but didn't.

On Monday I went for an assessment with addaction that deal with me for the methadone prescription, but as this was for alcohol, it was a different half of the staff. It was just going through the said form which staff roll their eyes at and seem to hate it more than the client, but as they say, it HAS to be done. It may seem a little impersonal to some but I understand why they have to do it. When it got to asking whether I had a criminal record and I replied "no, not at all" she gave me a whooping congratulations! and wow! thats so rare! brilliant! She told me she would present my case to the rest of the staff and they would decide what to do with me- i.e whether I am in need of treatment and if so, what kind, and who with. I hope I get something.

My doctors and case worker are very happy with me but I have been kind of pissed off with them, when I was off the rails they said there was no point in giving me any type of counselling, therapy etc. as I was intoxicated, well now I'm off it, they still won't give me a god damn thing. I think it is dangerously niave to assume I have cracked it all of a sudden, surely, they should be giving me therapy to try and develope the skills to cope me with the issues that cause me to use drugs and alcohol. I sometimes think alcohol is more dangerous, as when drunk, I lose my inhibitions and decide to go score, like I did when I was a few months clean from methadone, done a big snowball and ended up on life support. Still, nothing. I'm not acting as if I'm special, like I should jump to the top of the list but I have been promised help for so long, and it angers me my family have been dumped with caring for me. Yes, thats what family are for but there is a difference when they work full-time and have to dedicate every spare minute to you. Its so stressful for them, and I hate to do it to them.

Anyway..... as I always promise, I won't leave it so long next time.
Seriously, I will try not to. If i do, drop me a message on twitter or fb or something :)
I have noticed some of my old blogs I followed have become obsolete, if you have one, let me know.

Love Naomi xxx

Lovely start to the morning

I'm not using drugs, I know I have HepC but the heroin I was using IV was the worse most terrible thing I could possibly do, I was told. After all, thats why its illegal, isn't it.
I have cut my drinking down a lot.
But this morning my nan went out to do some shopping, I had had my methadone about 40minutes before and I felt sick. I went to the toilet, too slow, as some went on the floor, and I puked up. It didn't hurt, I didn't retch at all as I had drunk a whole bottle of mineral water with lemon flavouring. So I didnt retch... so this is why I got scared....

Usually being sick hurts as I have nothing in my stomach and I'm dry retching and brining up bile. This wasn't the case.
As I first was sick I tasted saltyness,
and there in the toilet bowl was bright red fresh blood. Not clotted, brand new, beautifully red. About 3 tablespoons full from what I could tell (I got a container and picked it out the toilet bowl water to check, so this is excluding the sick and blood on the floor). My mum is a nurse so when she saw this she was scared; she thought I was overexaggerating.

Not good. I thought all my problems were over when I stopped taking heroin.
Turns out, they are only just beginning.

Happy Christmas

I am quite aware I haven't posted for a long long time. I am at college now studying for an Access to Social Care Diploma (my topics are criminology, psychology & sociology) which is for 19 year olds + who take it for a year to bring them up to university standard. The day we broke up, we had a fantastic christmas meal and drinks. When I originally joined the course I was so nervous, I thought I wouldn't get on with anyone because I had been an outcast in society for so long. However, I have got on just fine. There is a real mix of people, a lot of older people with children, and a lot of people who have experienced problems not too disimilar to mine. Its a great supportive environment and we all get along great. I will be sad to leave. The last day of term was the deadline for our UCAS forms which are our university applications containing our personal statements (effectively, an A4 sized piece of writing telling your prospective university how fantastic you are and why it is essential they let you in. naturally, i found this part very hard. saying complimentary things about myself does not come easy). As I wrote it, I remembered a lot of things I had done previously, like volunteering at a mental health centre, doing journalism experience with the BBC and working for a charity. I have applied to take a degree in Social Policy. Fingers crossed I get in. My sister took the Access course, and later went to University. She graduated this year, her third term. A degree in Psychosocial Studies she now has. I don't know how she done it, after all, she had a baby last December and already had twin girls who were 8. Amazing job. Louis my nephew turned 1 years old on December 23rd. Here he is; I am now single, and all the better for it. If I have learnt one thing, it is I probably cannot deal with being in a relationship with another addict who doesn't have the desire or capability to do something about his situation. Life is good. I have my own little flat which I stay in, and I am going to decorate in the New Year. Get a new TV, paint the walls, get furniture... I don't know what scheme I am going to go for. I thought about a 50s style pad or 60s, or a pink and zebra print theme. Who knows.

In hospital November 2010

I saw the Manic Street Preachers on the 1st November with my sister. By this time I had a huge abcess on my arm (you can just see it on the right, I tried to hid it). The next morning I went to the doctor and they instantly rushed me into Addenbrookes. I had to have a general anaesthetic and I was in there for a week. I had to wait 3 days for the op and I eventually got into theatre at midnight. Obviously, if they have car wrecks etc. etc. and need to operate urgently you are put back. It didn't bother me, though, but I had to be nil by mouth so I couldn't eat or drink even water, and on the third day of having to do that from 9am-11pm I felt pretty crap. I had my own room and bathroom on the plastic surgery ward and the staff were brilliant. I have nothing but admiration for those people who work there, from the cleaners upwards. When you have an abcess they obviously cannot stitch it up as there is still potentially pus and bad stuff in the wound so it needs to be left open. The day after my op, the consultant came round and removed my bandages to look at it, it was the most biggest hugest hole I had ever ever seen. Very unsettling. I had to stay in for a week. I was put to sleep with gas before they gave me the anaesthetic as they would have to search for a vein and they didn't want me to get uncomfortable, well, more than I already was that is. When I woke up they had ripped my surgical stockings (To prevent DVT) and put it in my feet. This sucked, as I couldn't walk and had to be pushed in a wheelchair down to the concourse to the stores, cafes etc. Talk about milking it!!! I missed a lot of college which worried me sick, but I just had to study hard to bring myself up to scratch. The twins (Right) and my sister (their mum) came with my Momma to visit me.




Clean
I have been clean for a couple of months. My addaction worker is exceptionally proud of me as is my doctor. But especially, to top all of those, is my family. My nanna is 85 bless her, a wonderful lady. She loves a tipple with me and she has done everything for me and the rest of the family. It broke her heart to see me on heroin. Now, she is so happy. I feel guilty about all the pain I caused her but I just have to tell myself to focus on improving my life and keeping up the good work, not dwelling. Same goes for my mum. She is a fulltime nurse and she is just so much happier. I spend a lot of time with my sister and her kids, which I love beyond belief. Considering I don't really want kids at all (or is that because I just assume I cant have them and am trying to reduce potentially hurt at having to find out I cant concieve?) I love to spend as much time as I can with them. For some reason, I just suddenly got turned off heroin + crack cocaine (snowballs). As if overnight a switch was flicked and I went off it. Its been a long time coming though, believe me. Its been a great couple of months. In that time I have had shit loads of money now I no longer have to buy drugs. I take much better care of myself and you should see the amount of presents I got my family today. I haven't done that in years as obviously, drugs won over buying gifts. I am...dare I say it... HAPPY :)


I got a brand new pink and white laptop as an early christmas present from my momma and she took me to SCRUFFS, a hairdresser in cambridge Bridge Street. I saw a senior stylist for a consulation and she fixed my hair. I hadn't had a hair cut in ten years as in 2001 I chopped off my bumlength hair and I looked TERRIBLE. It wasn't what I asked the hairdresser, and as a result I both looked like Annie, refused to go out for 2 weeks and then developed a phobia of the hairdresser. Its actually a lot nicer than it looks here ---->
But the best thing is its no longer the frizz ball it normally is. Oh and, the REAL best bit was Scruffs the hairdresser served me beer as I had my hair cut. My kinda place for sure!

I am so glad I finally got another computer. I really need it for college. I got a new sewing machine too, as the ex stole it. His parents didn't want me to call the cops so they purchased me a new one, even though it was nowhere near as good as the old one. He was in intensive care after an OD of benzos a week or two ago. I'm not heartless but I didn't enquire about him or visit etc. etc. All contact is severed and I'm much better for it. Phew. Should have gotten rid a long time before!

Ok. I know this is a really, really long post but I had to touch briefly on some of the stuff that has gone on. Actually, shit loads more has happened but I probably need to go back and look at some diaries as I have probably forgotten. My drinking is still.... still.... there. It goes up and down but I have a very bad stomach problem, I puke every day and my stomach cant take alcohol. I always have to make sure I leave an hour and a half or more between drinking my methadone and trying to down a drink as I can't risk puking it up. No way. But the good thing is with this stomach problem, its harder and harder to drink and I can't like I used to on certain days. Still thats for the best I am sure as I never felt too clever going into classes with a raging hangover, shaking like hell.


Well I hope everybody is having a wonderful christmas day, or at the very least, one that is enjoyable as it possibly can be. I am at my Nans with my sister, nephew Louis, twin nieces who I haven't seen all day as they are glued to their Wii and my mum has just left to go do her final patient... she was on a ten hour shift (nurse) bless her. Her partner is here too and so is my grandad. I am having a glass of champagne... yes real, not cava. I will definetely try and write more frequently.

Let me know how you all are. BEST WISHES and if I don't speak before, all the best for 2011

Love from Naomi xxx

dirty hits are no fun, no fun at all.

wow, last night was positively evil. in the early afternoon i went and had 3 pints in the pub, and left to go to my nans where i stayed for a couple of hours. went home around 9pm and did a wash, which resulted in the worse dirty hit of my life. at about 9.15pm i started to get a pounding headache so i laid down while massaging my temples, which seldom helped. the pain increased to such a degree i felt physically sick and all i had time to say was "oh no" and before i even had leapt up i had puked everywhere. vomit all over the bed, myself, the floor. it carried on until my stomach was clear and i was bringing up yellow bile which tastes vile as you know, but also is so painful as you are going through the motions of vomiting but its dry so its unbelivably painful. i continued to be sick over and over every 20 minutes or so. i didn't fall asleep until 4am and i woke up at ten to 6, vomitting again at 7, and every couple of hours up until 4pm. hopefully its done with but i feel bloody awful still. my head is attrocious, and when i get back to mine i have to finish off cleaning where i was sick. i got the worse of it off but that acid smells horrible so i will have to clean it some more with the stuff i just got from the store. the last time i felt this bad was a few months ago when i had that stomach ulcer... over a week spent vomitting, unable to eat a thing, puking up blood but even then i didn't have the pounding head so it wasn't as bad. i never want to use a syringe again in my life. EVER. and i can't because...

i have that new CPN that deals exclusively with alcohol which is mighty important at the moment as there is no way in hell I'm going to even get referred to the Hep C treatment clinic unless I have abstained from alcohol and drugs 100% Heroin I can stay away from, but alcohol is a different story. It is involved in everything I do.... my mothers birthday celebration last weekend, at the pub. Back at college, all social activites are at pubs & clubs, quick get together with a mate I haven't seen in a while, down the pub. its so hard to get away from it. and i find it so impossible to sit there and not drink alcohol in a pub. it just cannot be done. having said that, i have never ever had counselling for either drugs or alcohol (hey, you would have thought maybe my gp would have referred me to some type of counsellor to combat my substance missuse issues instead of just handing me a script for methadone. hmmmm) so i don't have the tools to really deal with it. maybe when i am equipped with them i will change, maybe i wont but i'm going to have a bloody good try. here in cambridge the rate of Hep C infected IV drug users is rediculously high, and obviously, 98% aren't in treatment, or even bothered about it as they are still using and/or drinking. it is not unusual to lose one or two, maybe more a year due to liver failure caused from alcohol and/or drug abuse excellerated because of their Hep C status. i don't want one of those to be me. i realised recently that its no longer suprising to hear somebody has died, its more suprising to hear they are still going. i have though that far too normal and acceptable for far too long.

EDIT: to
Anonymous on dirty hits are no fun, no fun at all. on 23/09/10
you bloody tit, contracting HIV wouldn't save the taxpayer money, it would increase it beyond belief! the medication is awfully pricey, as is the healthcare and nurses, doctors & specialists wages who would have to regularly see me. wow, what a first-class prize idiot you are. give yourself a round of applause.

sorry, i forgot to tell you, you have had Hep C for a year

my nurse, not even my doctor, came up to the office where I was having my initial assement with my CPN (Community Psychiatric Nurse) that specialises in mentally ill alcoholic heroin addicts. tell me, what did he have to do to get that qualification?! anyway, 3 weeks ago they took a blood sample off me. it took 34 minutes to take less than 1/5 of a tube of blood. they sat (they being my gp and a nurse) on the floor trying to get blood out of a vein under my armpit. they hoped it would be enough but when it was sent to addenbrookes, the blood was so small (remember, most blood tests provide them with 5 tubes of blood not 1/5 of 1!) it had congealed and was untestable. anyway, i thought damn, i wont find out if i have any bad bad liver problems and diseases. WRONG!

The nurse comes into this meeting and breaks the bad news "I am so sorry, but the blood test you had taken last year in May, it came back positive for Hep C but nobody told you"
Basically, I was running around for a year boozing like there was no tomorrow, hitting up crack and smack everyday, not knowing I had active HEP C which leads to Cirrhosis, Liver Cancer, Liver Failure.... So basically, why did they do a blood test if nobody bothered to read the results? They had been on my file for a year and 2 months before somebody noticed. Not even an apology. Sick. My mum is a nurse, when she takes a blood test and gets the results, if she didnt read them right and ignored a serious illness for a year she would be struck off. Click above for the story.

Anyway, I am still suffering from my stomach ulcer and my Hep C is causing really bad problems. I am in constant pain and my body bruises so easily. I accidently stepped out of the way at the local pub (no I had just walked in, I wasn't pissed) and hit my knee on a table and the bruise is there 3 weeks later. Nothing heals properly. I am still on heroin, crack & alcohol. Now i have this awful hep C.
great.

I will write again, when things are clearer.

These Girls Fall Like Dominos

I first self-harmed when I was 7 years old. I remember it, it is one of my first memories. It wasn't because I was copying my father; a manic-depressive alcoholic who slashed himself to pieces on a regular basis (I came back from the cinema with my mum, sister and her school friend after seeing home alone to discover him on our living room floor topless holding a knife, having plunged it into his stomach X amount of times), it was because it was the only way I could stop myself from crying. My mum, a NHS nurse, had so much to deal with, I wanted to be strong, not rock the boat anymore. And this one afternoon when the police rang to say my sister, 4 years older, had been arrested for shoplifting, I was sitting in the front room with my Mum and Dad on my blanket playing with some teddies and Barbies. My Mum started crying. I hated seeing her upset and my Dad was upset too. I was going to cry. I didn't want to so I suddenly without even thinking about it picked up this needle from a cross stitch kit I had been given to make a blanket for my Barbies bed and scratched it over and over on my wrist. I was angry I was feeling like crying, and the pain helped. From that day, its the only way I knew how to deal with being upset. Or anything negative.

My self-harm is very personal. I don't show it, anywhere. My boyfriend will see it. It is 1:28am right now. I don't know why, I wasn't drunk, quite happy. Just got back from his sisters in Oxford. I just felt awful and I picked up my razor, ripped it apart and slashed at my chest. Right above the heart. Its split open very deep. It seemed apt to do it there. I will regret it tomorrow, as that is 1 year at least of not wearing low cut tops (not saying I like to display my cleavage; just im too fat for polo necks etc). I don't know why I have returned to self-harm. Before I started on heroin I was doing it everyday, and was getting more and more extreme. I think heroin saved me. Or maybe I just stopped self-harm with a razor or ciggarettes, or bleach, pills & vinegar (used to drink bottles of it) with a needle? Who knows.

I feel better after I self-harm, but not that better. I want to slash my face open. But I go as far as my neck, I have twin nieces, a nephew, family. I am sick and tired of it all, I really am. I can't be bothered. I am so stuck in a rut, and its not even mine. I don't want to do this anymore, and its not because I am distraught. This place just isnt for me. Never has been. I'm not sad about it, I've known it for a long time. I hate it. I know there is no afterlife, I have clinically died enough times to know. I just want to do what we do when we all die; switch off.