Sunday, May 5, 2013

Guest post Paul Payne UK

In a few days I shall be moving back to the town where I grew up. In a twist of fate my son has moved there, and I want to be there for him as he approaches the dreaded teenage years.
The last time I was there I was at my lowest,my rock bottom. It was enough for me not to want to return after a successful stint in rehab. The last year there will never be erased from my memory, or my nightmares. My Best friend had killed himself, I was the last person to see him. We were heavily into heroin, and at his funeral his poor Mum couldn't even be near me.
As I was selling a bit, I was able to couch surf from night to night, always making sure that I never stayed in the same place for two nights on the bounce. The Police were stopping me all the time, even though they never got anything , they enjoyed degrading me in front of passers by. Fair enough I suppose I wasn't the nicest person at the time. There was a nun named Sister Pauline, who through a chance meeting with my Mum seemed to have faith in me. She was instrumental in me getting a rehab place.
The day before I was due to go into rehab, must have been 20th june 1999, I was once again stopped by the Police. I said to them " look im off to rehab tomorrow, ive nothing" quite pleased with myself. What they said still rings in my ears..." I don't give a fuck if you sort yourself out or not, its shit like you and your mates that are my bread and butter. I hope you fail, so you come back here and I can nick you"
Morning after I was gone, never looked back. A clean start, and a clean slate elsewhere...

But now im going back, there will be memories, there will be triggers, even after 13 years. In my recovery I haven't yet had to go down the route of facing my old stomping ground. Well I am now, im excited, and nervous, a triumphant return...I know what I have to do......

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