There are pain patients. After having three surgeries, I have a soft spot in my heart for them. I needed that pain medicine- needed it. I would be lying if I said it didn't feel good in the process. It would have been so easy to take that extra pill. And pain profoundly impacts your life. It is hard to participate in the world when you have trouble sitting in the chair. Pain patients- I salute you. You are like the food addict. You need something to live that may be killing you at the same time.
There are the new users. They provide middlemen, older junkies, and dealers a constant stream of income. All that over charging and overdosing. It is almost as if they fell compelled to step on their dope to keep them from killing themselves. And they need you to do EVERYTHING for them. Please new users- quit while you are behind. If not, be safe. Don't trust assholes to give you clean supplies. Don't believe in favors. There are none.
There are too many of us to describe in one place.
Finally, there are the garbage can users. They will stick a rusty needle in their neck on a street corner. That was me. They will use spit or tears to mix up dope. That was me. They will hate themselves so much that they will almost lose their leg to an infection because they refuse to go to the doctor. That was me. I think I shot up with grape crush trying to be cute. I wasn't laughing when I stuck my finger in a hole between the bone section. I paused but it did not stop me. We all have our crosses to bear.
I walked around with the rotten leg for a month. I got it treated but never changed the bandages. I got arrested with four abscesses but that leg stunk so bad the police wanted to let me go. Too much paperwork to take a crazy junkie bitch to the hospital in handcuffs. One of my abscesses needed surgery. So I was in Jail with a bandage on each limb.
People always say there is no one like me. You are just like me. We are the same. We chose different roads but end in the same place. Today, I chose to live.