Summer sun, something's begun

It's wednesday night, it's beautiful out and has been all day. Right now it's Ok because we are indoors; earlier on we had to ride back and forth between Roytown and Cambridge in the trusty Escort being slowly roasted by the sun. It is really muggy, humid... I don't like the heat much at all. But Carl can't stand it and his medication is effected by it. We had the air conditioner on (affectionately named 'the monster' by him due to the nom-nom-nom sounds it creates) but had to flick it off as I had well, some powders

I am just sitting on the bed in Carls room listening to him. I never had a natural flair for playing anything, even though I really tried, especially with the saxophone. Can't sing either. He can not only play the guitar extremely well, but he sings beautifully. Sure, sure, you think. But you would think that wouldn't you? It is not only me who thinks so. I have only just realised who The Damned are but he got to play support to them, he would play the main stage at the Strawberry Fair and toured around Europe. He has tried to get back into it and this is him doing it. He suddenly said "I think I'm going to write a song tonight" and minutes later we grabbed our stuff and trudged upstairs to the bedroom.

sorry about the gap

in posts. I haven't had too much internet access. Anyway, I am absolutely fine. I have been using, in fact, I am using now but the doctor has switched me from Methadone (i took myself right down to 25ml) to Suboxone (buprenorphine 8mg plus 2mg naloxone... wiping out the street value as you can't bang them up) which I intend to take from tomorrow or Tuesday (ha- reminds me of my favourite quote "I'll quit, as long as its next Tuesday").

Rehab was good. Painful, but I needed to break out of my cycle of alcohol consumption in a medically equipped setting. When I got there (its a psychiatric ward, with 2 detox beds) I knew the other detox patient, who is an absolutely lovely liverpudlian. I knew a couple of other people too, from my psychiatric care group. The morning I went in was quite scary. I had stayed at my Nannas and since it was a 11am start, I got up early. I knew they breathalised you when you arrived to make sure you were not over the DRINK DRIVE limit, and I was petrified I might be. The thought of getting there with all my things and being sent back to my Nans (she, and all my family were pinning so much hope on this stay. To come back merely minutes after I left to start my "NEW LIFE" would be crushing to them all, especially my Nanna. And to me, also. The lady based at the Bridge Project on Mill Road that done the referrals for alcohol detox (she was also my old drugs keyworker that oversaw my methadone programme) assured me I would be OK; that I could drink normally the day before and have one drink to "get me up and the morning of admittance, if needed. This worried me, as when we (users in Cambridge) had to go to the methadone clinic every morning weekday 8:45-12:45 certain people (the known alcoholics) were breathalised and if they blew red, they were refused their scripts. This was terrible if it were Friday, as you were without your methadone and perhaps your valium until Monday, where you would have to see the doctor as it had been 3 days without and have them decide to carry on prescribing you. I was scared because I remember Beckie stopping drinking around 10pm and still blowing red the next morning. I drank none the less until about midnight and when I woke up at 7am the next day, I had to drink. I had brandy and coke and a couple of little bottles of stella, about 1.5 units each. The amount of stuff I packed was rediculous. I was well prepared so I didn't get bored. Tim gave me a lift there, stopping off at the Bridge Project to get breathalised prior to going to hospital, just so I knew it wouldn't be a wasted journey. Time was getting on when we got to Fulbourn Tesco (hospital is next door) and I dashed around getting last minute things; socks, cigarettes (I didn't get enough; I found I would smoke around 60 a day, and had to call outside people to deliver them), sweets. I had to have a drink, so I got two small cans of Smirnoff and Cranberry. I downed them both just like that, my last 4 or 5 units. Tim helped me take my stuff in, and we waited till I got admitted.
I was worried what they would think of me, they being the staff and other patients. I thought they might think I was faking it, because I didn't look like the typical alcoholic. And I had so much with me; ipod, clothes, laptop... And although I was very ill, I didn't have a fit. I accept now that that is just the part of me that gets self-concious all the time. I had just downed the vodka and was petrified I would blow red on the breathaliser but actually, I was fine. I will write more about the hospital, later.

I only stayed in for one week. It should of been two. But basically, I met a bloke. Silly to abscond on the account of a man? Maybe. But its been a while and right now I am the happiest I have ever been. I have settled quite a bit. I now drink about 3 times a week and when I do, its a bottle of wine to share with my boyfriend, Carl. He himself has not drunk in a few days. It doesn't bother him too much. Life is going quite alright; I am going to college in September and I am hoping to move ASAP in time for that. I can only hope and pray.

off to rehab today

I don't know why I suddenly became so resentful of the internet.... hang on yes I do. I wrote that and the thing below last night around midnight when my computer just crashed and switched off. Noooo,.... I thought, I have to pack for rehab in the morning so I wont have time to re-write something. Phew, turns out blogger automatically saves but for some reason, not everything I wrote. Anyway, I know one of my friends who reads this commented a while back saying when I don't write he thinks I am dead and it worries him.

Anyway, its 6:48am in the morning and I am surrounded by shit loads of clothes that need packing. I am apprehensive that I am going over the top; my bag is huge. Its one of those ones backpackers use and goes down to the backs of my knees so when I walk he whacks against them and neigh-on trips me up. I always get self-concious thinking "omg, alcoholics and junkies don't care what they look like is the common conception so people will think i'm not really ill if i turn up with all this hair, make-up and clothes crap". Silly? Yes and no. You would be suprised how much my appearance at times has let me down... just recently I told my doctor how bad my drinking was and she replied with a "Well, at least you can get up and take pride in your appearance. Most people can't even do that, they lost the ability a long time ago," HELLO! Its because I am self-concious I wear make-up, I feel so hideous I have to plaster myself with it just to go out the house or even open the door to a postman. Vain? No. Just self-loathing.

I don't really know how the whole thing works, yet. I know I can't take my phone as it has a camera on. I was going to take in my digital camera and take pictures, a photo diary (not containing others, of course) but then I realised how silly that was. The sudden panic it might cause with other residents etc. I am going to take in my laptop (hope its allowed) and try and write. You are not allowed out for first 5 days, and the only visitors you have after that are non-alcoholics and junkies. So that really narrows my list down of potential guests. You have to take in all your money, smokes... there is a tesco next door to this hospital (my Dad was in and out of this same place all my life and I remember he would abscond, go to the Tesco for vodka, drink it in the lush hospital grounds then go back into the ward for a nice dinner and to sleep it off) but considering I will have no other of lifes pleasures (booze and smack) I bet I will smoke like a trooper! So I will need to bring in a shit load of those. I am getting those this morning. My mate is taking me. You are allowed a drink to get you there and I need one bad but the thing is, you can't blow over 100 when they breathalise you, and 80 is the drink drive limit. You have to be there for 10am so if you blow over that, you are fucked and lose your bed. I am thinking one can of weak beer, and now so I don't chance anything.

I am frightened. Trying not to think about it. I haven't been sober for years. KELLY I have taken in some small sewing things (didn't want to lug in my sewing machine as that would mean my most expensive possessions are all in one place for easy pickings!) to do. Hoping to reignite my passion for it. Sure I will. And I have a lot of pictures on craftster.org of things I have made, if I have time this morning I will go and look through my past projects and send you the links. That is a brilliant site for sharing ideas and tutorials. Anyway I must go! Get ready. "See" you all in 2 weeks. Thanks for all your kind comments and support.

From Last Night.......
Reading Gledwoods latest post reminded me of just how dire the Eurovision Song Contest really is. I missed the whole hype that was "Your Country Needs You" (? it was that right, where they looked x-factor style for a England rep to sing a song written by Andrew Lloyd Webber) but I decided to flick back and forwards between BBC1 and whatever else I was watching so I could hear our entry. Man, the constant repeating of "its my time, its my time" just made me want to instantly become deaf. Andrew what were you thinking? I hadn't watched it since LOVE CITY GROOVE were on, and lost. I know we won it one year with that bird from Katrina and the Waves but I remember one particularly fantastic song that I can't believe did not win. Do you remember it, also? Its beautiful. Who can forget her in her union jack pants. That women was my idol for oh, I don't know, a good few weeks till I moved onto someone else. I remember getting constantly teased for having curly hair and suddenly girls were curling theres, but unfortunately, as she faded into the distance so did that fashion and it was back to jibes of GINGER!!!! FRIZZBALL!

rehab! rehab! rehab!

I will post photographs from the Girls Aloud concert at the 02 arena. I was physically sick at that show for two reasons; one, the arena was so steep it wasn't just I who had a panic attack, grown men afraid of heights could not go into the stadium due to the way the place was built... the people infront of you had their heads aligned with your foot (thats how steep it was I swear!). It looked as if you were about to topple out your seat, bouncing over the people infront of you until you hit the main arena floor in a bloody mess. Secondly, I couldn't drink any alcohol as it was just my sister and I with the twins so obviously, their first trip in London and on the underground tube filled me with anxiety... I knew I needed my witts about me and to hold onto them at all times. I was frightened they would fall on the tracks/get stollen/etc. etc. Ok, ok, they are seven. Anyway, I couldn't drink so I was plagued by headaches, violent puking and shaking that looked like I had parkinsons at best. Sad, but true. My twins referred to me having a "bad head day" god they are more switched on than i give them credit for. However, Turns out they were amazingly good. We stayed in a hotel by the 02 arena in north Greenwich and they were brilliant. They didnt cry once, misbehave, moan when the queue for food reached over an hour and a half, paddy, fight.... they just were so chilled. When I was taken to London at 7 I was scared to death; I needed to be carried down the esculators on the underground as they freaked me out so much, I was paranoid the whole time I was going to get stolen and sold to some fagen-esque gang.... I was so proud of the girls. They loved it and they loved the Florence Nightingale Museum they insisted on going to and of course... HAMLEYS TOY SHOP! they both had money allocated to them and they spent it wisely on presents for themselves.

I am taking them to the park tomorrow afterschool to ride their bycicles as my sister is in hospital and she gets out that afternoon. They live opposite the park, about 5 seconds from it but my sister will be too ill to take them so I am going to. I want to spend some time with them. I spent a few hours with them yesterday and loved it, can't believe how much they change when I don't even see them for a few days!!! I want to spend as much time with them as possible because
DRUM ROLL PLEASE............

I AM GOING INTO A 2 WEEK REHAB!!!!!!!!!
YES!
I AM SO FUCKING EXCITED.
i would never have the money to do this in my life!
its been allocated to me because well, ive become such a danger to myself i will be dead in a few years if i dont, probably!! i am so happy to be given this chance. i was supposed to go in on the 12th but my drugs worker rang up and said I DIDN'T NEED TO GO IN, that my drinking wasn't THAT BAD! so they cancelled it. but my psychiatrist got in touch and convinced them that it was a life-or-death situation and they managed to find me a bed for the 19th of MAY!

i nearly cried when i heard. i very nearly did but as you will know by reading this blog, i don't cry EVER, not even by myself.


my psychiatrist said it would be good respite for me to not drink for two weeks. I explained i wanted to quit drink FOR GOOD but he thinks my liver just needs a 2 week break. i would like to think I could show him otherwise but like he says, my liver needs this break or ill be dead before I know it! my mum said to me "so you are never going to drink again?" as if she didn't believe me. i don't know if i believe myself but its my intention. however, its just getting away from that crutch of drinking all day to deal with my problems. getting away from the fact a summers day isn't complete without an ice cold beer because hello- IT IS! thats what im trying to drum into my skull.

april 21st

Something finally seems to be getting done in the way of treatment for me. At the moment I am with Complex Cases which is an outpatient programme 5 days a week. I went this morning from 11.30-1pm, skipping the last hour or so because when the group meeting had finished, the dinner had been cooked. Bacon filled the room and the psychiatrist began making them into gourmet sandwiches but since I can't eat in front of people (I've got a complex) I left. I hadn't eaten all day and didn't until 6pm so I felt ill and was dying to eat but I just couldn't bring myself to. Anyway, tomorrow after my appointment at the doctors to get my methadone prescription renewed I am going to be assessed by the HOME TREATMENT team. It was quite urgent so they offered to see me today but I didn't have the time. One condition is they can only see you if you haven't consumed any drugs or alcohol. Hello, I am a physically dependant alcoholic. So, I see them at 4pm so I don't know how I'm going to go all day without a drink. If they want a seizure on their hands, they can go ahead. This Home Treatment is an intensive programme and it provides a carer to be with you day in and day out which I do need really badly. Hopefully, I'll get it.

I am watching PAID IN FULL on BBC1, Its about the crack explosion in Harlem in the 80s. Today, even though I needed to save my money for the london trip this weekend, I got 3 bags of drugs- one crack cocaine, two heroin. I went with someone else to score and even though I could of scored myself, he took the money and wouldn't give me my crack until I gave him half for nothing. I wouldn't mind but he got a £20 bag plus while we were waiting this girl walks up to him and gives him a £20 bag to test. He grafts all day everyday and I can't so these drugs have to last me. Thanks a bunch you git. I don't mind sharing but he had loads more money on him. He wouldn't do that to a bloke. Anyway, things are getting pretty bad. My body is in a right state. Where I wrap the torniquet around my arm, i have such a bad rash and bruising all the way around. I bruise at the slightest touch and my needle holes are just not scabbing over, just swelling and becoming full of pus. When you knock my arm near to them, the pus will burst out. URGH.

The 21st was the closing day for all supporting letters on my housing move. Tomorrow they will discuss whether to move me out of my hellhole of a flat I don't live in because its surrounded by other junkies who constantly bully me. Fingers crossed.

my neck, my back...

Kills. Absolutely kills I tell ya. Sunday was spent at my twin nieces house as it was there 7th birthday. Among their "main presents" alongside the Girls Aloud Concert Tickets (26th Sun) and hotel stay in London they got this absolutely wicked Trampoline. Their house is only about 60 seconds from mine so when I got round there the first thing I did was sling down their gifts, take off my shoes and join the 6 children that were bouncing on it already. I was afraid I was going to fall on one of their tiny little bodies but a quick suggestion that they go and get some ice-cream and they all vacated it pronto. Very cunning, Naomi, I thought. I preceeded to have a blissful 10 minutes jumping and attempting to perform flips and various tricks, which I could barely do, all I managed was to prove to myself how unhealthy and unflexible I am. When the kids got back on, I got off and was overcome by the sudden urge to vomit everywhere. The blazing sun (it was beautiful weather by the way, managed to hold up all day) combined with the exercise totally knocked me for 6 and everybody knew I didn't feel well as I rejected offers of wine, budweiser, cider even vodka... in favour of water and then cherry aid. Copious amounts of water, the first time I had drunk water in months. The day was lovely. We had Sarah and her boyf Ashley and their 2 children, my mother and her partner, my sister and her partner Andy (obviously as it was their house), my Nan & Grandad, Andys little girl and the twins little friends. Usually 7 year old party stuff; BBQ, overeating, loud pop music and Kiss Radio playing, booze, a few tears. I spent most of the day on the trampoline, convincing most of the adults to go on it. Sarah is over 25stone and I made her get on it. She was bouncing and she suddenly fell, and I wish the camera would of been on because when she did, I shot up in the air and came crashing down on her. It was comical beyond belief and had everyone laughing. Managed to get my Mum on there too, as well as my sister. When I woke up yesterday my back was stiff as it could get. In the afternoon I went to my sisters to paint with the twins and they got me back on the trampoline but god, it was so painful but they wouldn't let me off. If I don't lose weight going on it everyday then pffft, I give up!


My Mum is getting ready now as her and Dean are going to London 02 arena for the wrestling. Last time I checked she hates wrestling but I believe she got him the tickets for christmas. It finished about 11pm so she will get the train back tonight. On Sunday, we didn't really want to chance rushing to Kings X with the kids, who will be bloody tired so the plan is to set off, check into the hotel around 3, dump our stuff, try and get the kids to nap (like that will happen, so at least rest) eat and go to the concert. Next day we will go around London. They want to go to the Florence Nightingale Museum but I think the National History would be better. Oh well, we will see.
Yesterday was an adventure of sorts. I was really ill, my methadone wasn't holding me. I get into town and bump into Amy. Somebody owed her money so her and her friend couldn't score some brown. I know where you can get 2 £20 bags for £35 so I went off to get £20 so her £15 could get her and her mate a bag. He got really arsey and tried to take off with the bag himself. I didn't mind sorting her out but why when she has paid half should she get nothing, and why when I have paid £5 more for a bag have to split it in half. Last night, she was starting work as an escort. I arranged to call her at 7pm and she was to pick it up if anything was wrong. I rang at 7.10pm as the phone was already in use at mine. I guess she was ok as she didn't answer. I will ring her soon but I feel odd about it- I was a bit dubious about her doing it, worried, concerned, it didn't seem right to me... not right at all. This afternoon I am going to go to my COMPLEXCASES outpatient thing as I haven't been for ages. We are going to go out walking in the exercise group. Fun, eh! I better as I will be kicked out for lack of participation. I missed my hits yesterday and as a result, have a really bad swollen arm. I hope this doesn't mean another abcess as it was a bloody hit of white and brown. Oooops. No dope left and I can't spend my money on it tomorrow as I need to pay for London this weekend. Bummer.

This is the test

Whoops. I was thinking about my twin nieces birthday, which is technically now since it is 00:14. They are seven. I was thinking about the GIRLS ALOUD concert i am taking them to next sunday and the hotel we are staying in that night and the museums and places of historical interest the next day I & my sister, their mum, are taking them to. I was reading Shelleys blog, THOSE WHO DANCE... (its in the links) and thought, hell, she is coming off the liquid handcuffs. I came off the liquid handcuffs last year and as a result, I died (see last post) I can't believe what I just done. I just went outside into the garden while smoking my cigarette and squirted my last hit into the grass; £10 heroin and £5 crack. Just squirted it away. No chance of getting it back. Its in the grass. I think I realised there Is no JUST ONE LAST HIT. its bullshit. there is no ONE LAST HIT. you have to stop it. my doctor wants to put me back on subutex so come monday morning, that is what i am going to do. i wouldnt of done if i hadnt of squirted my snowball away but NOW I WILL. i go to my kids party tomorrow and i love them, i dont want them to see what i saw. i dont want me to do to them what my dad did to me.