I think I will quit tomorrow

I think one of the biggest misconceptions about drug users is that they are completely invested in drugs. To the outside world, the devotion to a substance seems fluid as if one day turns into the next without questions. In reality, there are moments in every day where they user questions themselves or their decisions. The addiction, the physical dependence, forces you forward towards another bag.

I don't think it is possible to wake up completely broke one morning after spending all your money on drugs without wondering what is going on in your life. I don't think it is possible to miss multiple family functions or have to cover up being high without some sort of "what the fuck am I doing" feeling. The mistake that loved ones and non users frequently make is the assumption that the user no longer cares. The user DOES care. The user cares to the point that the pain of disappointment needs to be buried deeply beneath the layer of depression, guilt, and occasional fits of desperation

 Addiction is not the state of apathy. Addiction is the place where we lose the inability to find a solution to the broader problem. Yes, I was aware my arm was falling off from an abscess. Yes, I was aware I had not seen my family for years. Yes, I was aware that I was completely isolated by continued use of a substance. But solving those problems seemed completely beyond my daily abilities. I focused on my smaller realities- I am a junkie and I have a monkey on my back that needs feeding. I am in pain and I cannot manage my feelings. My life is a mess, so why try to fix it? My best efforts result in failure.

When a person gets beyond the experimentation phase, a subtle shift occurs in the life of the user. Success becomes measured in the short term. Could I score, could I get a hit, could I manage my limited resources? Could I function and still achieve the high that I desired? It is a delicate balance.

Did I think about quitting? Every day. All the time. But I was able to stop when I was finally prepared for that transition. Until that time, I am so thankful people were able to help me remain safe

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Black Tar Heroin 10 questions answered

Image
I want to get this in one place. Here you go When was the film made? The film was made from Dec 1995 to Dec 1997. Originally the film was supposed to be for one year but I believe when HBO picked up the film they wanted two years. How were you picked for the film? Steven met a bunch of different people at the youth needle exchange. He wanted subjects that were slightly younger than me. He filmed a few other people  that never made it into the final film Were you paid for the film? No. I was not paid for the film. he bought me a hotel to stay in for a week and bought me lunch a few times. I think they left some money for me when I was in jail too. Documentary film makers, in general, don't pay their subjects. Was I friends with the other people from the film ? Sort of. I never knew Alice. I met Oreo when he was 15 or 16. He was VERY young when the film was made. His mom used to work the desk in one of the hotels I lived in. Jake and I used to hang out. At one point h...
Read more

Ben (revised)

Image
Ben was heroin addled fantasy from a time when I would rather be with someone that barely loved me than be alone. I had just been released from jail after six long months. I had been using in the jail up until the last 45 days. This is did not give me much time to construct any type of recovery. I had spent most my time of planning for things that would never happen. My first week in jail was spent recovering from surgery. When I was arrested, I had four large abcesses. An abcess is a place where bacteria gets under the skin and the flesh starts to rot. I had to have surgery on my arm. When I took of the bandage, I cried. Not because I was in the hospital, not because I was in jail. I cried because they had sliced open my tattoo! The horror of it all. I used to take a sterile needle and cut them open myself. Needless to say, my nickname was the abcess queen. When I was back on the streets, I felt hopeless. I gave up my homeless encampment living for a hotel with some financial ...
Read more

Jamie

   Being able to fall apart is a luxury many people don’t have. They carry their burdens until it breaks them.  Miss Jamie was one of the most aesthetically pleasing  women I had ever seen in my life. She simply glowed. When she entered a room, everyone had to stop to pay attention. She took that space over. Her smile was radiant. Her energy was infectious. She was a fireball of a human. Her petite frame was always draped with carefully selected skirts, dresses, and form fitting sweaters. She paired this with her signature plum lipstick and acrylics.  She always came late in the day, usually when I had the lowest energy. Yet, I never refused her entrance. I was happy to see her. Happy to listen to her while she held court in my desk area.      On this day, Jamie was wheeled into the clinic by a person I had never seen before. Instead of scrubs, he looked as if he had woken up on the streets. He looked left like a caretaker, more like a pe...
Read more