Saturday, 6 January 2007
The Meaning of Craving
Mood: don't ask
Topic: Drugs
The Meaning of Craving
THIS IS WHAT I WISH some of the smug people who work in the drugs services would understand when us junkies talk of “craving”. The tale I’m about to tell you illustrates the consequences of “craving” well enough. Don’t read on if you’re weak of stomach.
It was a dull Friday night. I had no money. I had no drugs. (I’d had my methadone, but as I’ve said, that doesn’t take away the urge to use 100% by any means.)
So I started a game I’m sure many people play; “hunt the dregs of drugs”.
This game involves closely examining all crack pipes, heroin spoons, whiskey bottles etc for any useable dregs of intoxicants. I was going through my top drawer (which isn’t so much full of underwear as tinopeners, playing cards, corkscrews, dead cockroaches, old photographs, mangled cassette tapes, paperclips… a bit of everything. At the back I found what would have appeared to the unwitting to be two enormous scabs of dried blood. (They were. But the blood was congealed around old heroin filters.)
In case you’re wondering how they got there, let me explain. When you inject drugs into a vein, you obviously load up a syringe, you need to stick the needle into where you hope the vein may be (after several years it does become guesswork) pulling back on the syringe all the time, so that when you do hit the vein, blood flows back into the syringe. This is how you know you’re “in”. (However, when the veins are tired, battered, old and collapsing, it’s quite easy to get blood into the syringe, enough to clot up your hit, however for various reasons the vein may misbehave, leaving you with a congealing (and potentially lost) hit of drugs). To get the drugs back you need to re-cook up your own blood (gross, I know) with citric acid to break down the scabs that have formed. And try again.
As I say, this is where craving can lead. Not every addict is lead to do every disgusting thing. But all of us are lead to do some of them... So anyway, I find my scabby filters. Pop them in a spoon. Add citric and loads of water. Cook up, crushing and stirring all the while. A smell of crackling pork hits my nose. Lovely. (No I’m being sarcastic. I hate pork.) Knowing from experience how to just about judge the strength of a dubious injection, I taste it. Yes, I taste heroin. Unmistakeable. And this has been scabbed up in my blood at the back of a dirty drawer for maybe two months or more. Okay…
I stick the needle in. Sod’s law means I get the hit on the outside of my elbow (I’ve used veins literally everywhere except my groin and neck. I had a hit next to my right nipple the other night.) The hit goes straight in. I wasn’t expecting to feel very much, but I do feel something. A slight and gratifying sense of warmth. No more special really than jumping into a slightly hotter than lukewarm bath, but it’s easy to be circumspect about it now.
About five minutes later I felt an odd coldness in my right arm (I’d injected in the left, so this made no sense to me). The coldness spread all over me, with weakness, dizziness, nausea. In fact all the symptoms of a pretty bad “viral” flu-type episode came on in about ten minutes, including a stonking migraine-type headache.
In short I’d given myself what we call here a “dirty hit”. Americans call it “cotton fever”. I was so sick all night I had no energy left from puking. Next morning I could barely walk. I won’t go on, but I really did feel bad by anyone’s standards. Dehydrated, yet not able to drink… all that.
Anyway walk I did to my friend’s house where (thanks to my good timing more than anything else) they were just scoring and gave me a nice clean hit.
My point being? Yes I was responsible. Yes I knew (as much as anyone does) what I was doing. But… that is what craving lead me to.
Posted by gledwood at 11:19 PM GMT
Updated: Saturday, 6 January 2007 11:26 PM GMT
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Sunday, 7 January 2007 - 1:41 AM GMT
Name: "chipper"
Home Page: http://playingwithfire.blogdrive.com
That's quite a story -- a powerful testimony to the hold that heroin can have on a person. I've done similar things, but with alcohol. Searching my old hiding places, drinking mouthwash and cold medicine, etc. I know that craving.
I've seen these before. My girlfriend used to do this. And only now do I know why she had citric acid in the house. There was a lot of stuff in the house that I couldn't figure out why she had it ...
Reply to this Comment
Sunday, 7 January 2007 - 1:58 AM GMT
Name: "Gledwood"
Home Page: http://gledwood.tripod.com/blog
Citric acid breaks down brown heroin ("grade 3") for injecting. It also breaks down crack for the same purpose (yes, some people inject crack... injecting it alone is in my opinion madness but a tiny bit mixed with much more heroin is lovely. That's the main reason you'd have citric. (It just so happens to break down blood as well, it also unblocks drains and burns your veins... I won't go on!!)
Reply to this Comment
Sunday, 7 January 2007 - 2:58 AM GMT
Name: "chipper"
Home Page: http://playingwithfire.blogdrive.com
I still find bits and pieces of things every now and then that she had hidden around the house. A few days ago I found a needle behind the toilet in the bathroom; while I was cleaning I saw a lump in the carpet and sure enough, that's what it was. I found a crack pipe in my humidor, under my cigars. I don't know why she hit it all from me; I was always understanding and never complained about her using. Believe me, I understand addiction. I even helped her get drugs (well, heroin, anyway) when I could see that she truly needed a fix. It was only when her behavior became abusive that I complained. And that was always due to the crack.
I loved that woman, so very much. She was ancredible woman -- beautiful, intelligent, talented, articulate, fun to be with, loving, sexy and full of life. I did everything I could to make it work. I knew she loved me deeply, and I really wanted to make it work. I probably let the relationship go on far longer than I should have.
I am learning so much from reading your blog, Gledwood. I wish I had found it before it was too late with her ...
Reply to this Comment
Sunday, 7 January 2007 - 3:44 PM GMT
Name: "Mary"
Home Page: http://maryblackchurch.heroindiaries.com/
E-Mail: maryblackchurch@hotmail.com
Ahh yes cotton fever...pure misery..a tip..aspirin is the only thing that can take that edge off..take it as soon as you feel it coming on. It works..I promise.
Reply to this Comment
Sunday, 7 January 2007 - 6:49 PM GMT
Name: gledwood
Home Page: http://gledwood.tripod.com
Re the cigars pipe/ etc... junkies get used to stashing things... doesn't necessarily have to be sneakiness, could be pure forgetfulness that such things end up in bizarre places. Say if you have one good sharp works you might want to hide it under the carpet so it's ready for you when you get home... no risk of mixing it up, someone else chucking it...
Okay, I'm playing devil's advocate but that IS the way I see it....
Reply to this Comment
Sunday, 7 January 2007 - 6:52 PM GMT
Name: gledwood
Home Page: http://gledwood.tripod.com
And re the aspirin: you're most probably right... I think I did take 3 paracetamols (I don't know if you have them in USA... like aspirin, but reduces fever, does not irritate the stomach). OTC headache pills... I took 3 so whatever happened I suppose could have been even worse!!
Showing posts with label craving. Show all posts
Showing posts with label craving. Show all posts
Saturday, 20 January 2007
Ibogaine and Genes
Saturday, 6 January 2007
Ibogaine and Genes
Mood: bright
Now Playing: I Want to Break Free...
Topic: Drugs Treatments
Have a look at this, folks. A gene is found (in rodents) that affects the likelihood of opiate relapse...
This New Scientist article puts me in mind of the African plant substance ibogaine, which has always been better known as a psychedelic. It's apparently not the pleasantest drugs trip you can go on (loads of nausea and vomiting)... and yet the plant has one fascinating power... it seems to be able to defeat drug addiction of all kinds. I.e. even people on huge methadone doses can, supposedly, undergo ibogaine treatment and the ibogaine not only blockades opiate craving for four years (with no need to readminister the ibogaine during that time) it also eliminates almost entirely withdrawals even from methadone (which are the worst). And it also works against crack! There's an American ibogaine clinic in my links to the right...
To read about the relapse gene in rats click: http://www.newscientist.com/article.ns?id=dn7445
By the way; poor rats:— did they put them on methadone afterwards?
Posted by gledwood at 10:39 PM GMT
Updated: Saturday, 6 January 2007 10:48 PM GMT
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Comments Page 1 of 1
Sunday, 7 January 2007 - 1:44 AM GMT
Name: "chipper"
Home Page: http://playingwithfire.blogdrive.com
I've heard of ibogaine before. Yes, it's almost always unpleasant, or so I hear. It's a tradition in South America (or wherever it is that the plant grows). It's in the news here because I think there's some pending legislation against it. War on drugs, and all that.
From what you say, it could be a miracle treatment? Could it be? A cure for addiction?
It'd never get rid of those cravings though.
I wish I had a miracle cure for alcohol. Four years would be just about right!
Reply to this Comment
Friday, 12 January 2007 - 4:45 PM GMT
Name: "jamie"
"chipper" wrote:
I've heard of ibogaine before. Yes, it's almost always unpleasant, or so I hear. It's a tradition in South America (or wherever it is that the plant grows). It's in the news here because I think there's some pending legislation against it. War on drugs, and all that.
From what you say, it could be a miracle treatment? Could it be? A cure for addiction?
It'd never get rid of those cravings though.
I wish I had a miracle cure for alcohol. Four years would be just about right!
Ive read 10 or so testements of people who have taken this drug , They all say that over night the craving and desire is gone . I cant find it here in the usa , you can get it in the uk for sure . The people who have taken it all have the same vision of a king like god who watchs over all things near the end of the trip , which lasts 1.5 to 2.5 days .
Ibogaine and Genes
Mood: bright
Now Playing: I Want to Break Free...
Topic: Drugs Treatments
Have a look at this, folks. A gene is found (in rodents) that affects the likelihood of opiate relapse...
This New Scientist article puts me in mind of the African plant substance ibogaine, which has always been better known as a psychedelic. It's apparently not the pleasantest drugs trip you can go on (loads of nausea and vomiting)... and yet the plant has one fascinating power... it seems to be able to defeat drug addiction of all kinds. I.e. even people on huge methadone doses can, supposedly, undergo ibogaine treatment and the ibogaine not only blockades opiate craving for four years (with no need to readminister the ibogaine during that time) it also eliminates almost entirely withdrawals even from methadone (which are the worst). And it also works against crack! There's an American ibogaine clinic in my links to the right...
To read about the relapse gene in rats click: http://www.newscientist.com/article.ns?id=dn7445
By the way; poor rats:— did they put them on methadone afterwards?
Posted by gledwood at 10:39 PM GMT
Updated: Saturday, 6 January 2007 10:48 PM GMT
Post Comment | View Comments (2) | Permalink
Comments Page 1 of 1
Sunday, 7 January 2007 - 1:44 AM GMT
Name: "chipper"
Home Page: http://playingwithfire.blogdrive.com
I've heard of ibogaine before. Yes, it's almost always unpleasant, or so I hear. It's a tradition in South America (or wherever it is that the plant grows). It's in the news here because I think there's some pending legislation against it. War on drugs, and all that.
From what you say, it could be a miracle treatment? Could it be? A cure for addiction?
It'd never get rid of those cravings though.
I wish I had a miracle cure for alcohol. Four years would be just about right!
Reply to this Comment
Friday, 12 January 2007 - 4:45 PM GMT
Name: "jamie"
"chipper" wrote:
I've heard of ibogaine before. Yes, it's almost always unpleasant, or so I hear. It's a tradition in South America (or wherever it is that the plant grows). It's in the news here because I think there's some pending legislation against it. War on drugs, and all that.
From what you say, it could be a miracle treatment? Could it be? A cure for addiction?
It'd never get rid of those cravings though.
I wish I had a miracle cure for alcohol. Four years would be just about right!
Ive read 10 or so testements of people who have taken this drug , They all say that over night the craving and desire is gone . I cant find it here in the usa , you can get it in the uk for sure . The people who have taken it all have the same vision of a king like god who watchs over all things near the end of the trip , which lasts 1.5 to 2.5 days .
Friday, 19 January 2007
Rituals and Emotions
Wednesday, 20 December 2006
Rituals and EmotionsMood: d'ohNow Playing: Ritualistically...Topic: Drugs
STARING AT MY SPOON, dregs of heroin remaining, knowing if I cook them up I will at least feel something…
They say heroin is a drug of rituals (and paraphernalia). During the heavy phase of my addiction I carried with me at all times a little tin box containing spoon, elastic tourniquet, “works” (my 1ml insulin needle-+-syringes), vitamin C, filters and a 50ml bottle of tap water, always fresh that day. Ready to go at all times!
One night, walking past an antiques shop I found a tiny silver jam spoon on the pavement. It seemed perfect for my uses. In fact, the handle was ready bent, junkie-style, so it would sit on a tabletop without spilling. I cooked up my gear in this spoon for several months, joking that I wished I had been born with it in my mouth.
I loved that silver spoon. Unfortunately during one of my botched detox attempts it got thrown away by a well-meaning person. (Not stolen, incidentally: this person was one of the very few I knew who didn’t touch drugs.)
During another of my get clean buzzes, I disposed of all my crack bottles no problem (I had been using crack too heavily at this particular time.) But on seeing my bent-handled spoons collection sitting there waiting to go my heart wrenched out.
Sad to say but I have loved heroin — and I do mean loved it — as nothing else on earth. It has been the be-all and the end all of my life. And as is so very often said, a life on heroin is in very many respects a life made simpler. Heroin is your medicine, your lover, your reason for being, your one-and-all. Life becomes a constant quest to ensure a steady supply.
Whereas with crack, I can always reason to myself that an hour or two later I won’t usually won’t usually feel any better for having taken it, an extra hit of heroin, or heroin on top of methadone would make me feel better all afternoon.
When I have attempted to take the opiates all away — ie to detox myself, as I have done several times over the years, I’ve rapidly become so very bereft without the drugs I couldn’t handle it. I came running back to the “gear” every time.
Trying to explain myself, knowing most of my readers have never had this problem, or at least don’t have it now, I’m confronted by just how very sad this emotional longing is. But addiction is a very emotional thing. Emotions are sad, sometimes. The irony (heroin is a rich source of contradictions) is that the stuff actually robs you, in the end, of the vividness of all feelings.
Right. And I’m stumped for something further to say.
It’s all about circles. Vicious, vicious things.
Posted by gledwood at 1:07 AM GMT
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Wednesday, 20 December 2006 - 8:32 PM GMT
Name: "mousie" Home Page: http://plumpiemousie.blogspot.comE-Mail: claudine.le-gac@laposte.net
Glewood please, come on ...you make me crazy today...please try to do something...
we can't stay there watching you being so silly and destroying yourself...
if you write it must be because you want people to read you, to listen to you...
so read us as well, read our comments, listen to us...
PLEASE...sure something is possible...you can't go on...you're too intelligent...please...
I was popping just to say have a good night my friend, but feel so helpless...how could we help you?
listen to your mums Mousie and Ruth...you're important for us...
take care dear
Mousie
Reply to this Comment
Friday, 22 December 2006 - 7:43 PM GMT
Name: "Gledwood" Home Page: http://gledwood.tripod.com/blog
Comments Page 1 of 1
Dear Mousie,
I'm sorry if I upset you. I'm not writing to upset anyone. I'm just trying to be honest. I'm not actually asking for help. I'm keeping the blog to (A) show people even drug addicts have thoughts and feelings and opinions and there's more to drug addiction than the images you see in newspapers and on the streetcorner in big cities and (B) as a true confession of what it actually IS like to be hooked on drugs. I've been on the heroin daily for nearly 7 years. I've been on and off methadone. The methadone has made me better than I was, much better; but for me it's not been a total cure.
Please don't get too upset. I'm not trying to upset anybody. I'm grateful that you care. Think of all the good things you have done. When I said your blog was one of the best things for cheering me up I meant it.
I'm going to my friend's up the road for Christmas. I hope you have a v. merry one too.
With lots of love
Gleds
xx
Wednesday, 20 December 2006 - 8:32 PM GMT
Name: "mousie" Home Page: http://plumpiemousie.blogspot.com
Reply to this Comment
Sunday, 24 December 2006 - 3:54 AM GMT
Name: "Laurie" Home Page: http://www.laurieishii.comE-Mail: laurieishii@yahoo.com
Hi Gledwood,
I have just finished reading a few of your blogs... this one about the rituals reminds me of when I used to carry a leather pouch, wherever I went, which contained sringes, a vial of saline water, spoon, rubber tie, cotton, lighter, baggies of cocaine (if I could afford it) and baking soda (in case I did have cocaine or ende up attaining some - I could coke it into freebase) crack pipe, brillo, pusher... I was very methodical and prepared at any given moment...
It is good that you do not glamorize your addiction, because there is nothing glamorous about being an addict at all - there is such a thing as "junkie pride" and I had it, at the beginning of my addiction I felt 'special' somehow - I didn't realize until after some time did I become such a SLAVE. Being a heroin addict is very humbling - to be so dependent on something besides oneself - I would do just about anything to keep myself from being dope sick or just from feeling the realities of life... I read some articles about the women in Suffolk - they were all addicts - a couple specifically addicted to heroin... it was not surprising to me - I didn't know many (if any) females who were strung out on heroin that did NOT prostitute at some time or another... heroin caused me to compromise myself in the worst way.
Gledwood, your sweet friend Mousie asks that you "Please do something..." what she doesn't realize is that it isn't so easy... you are hooked to something much more powerful than you are - which is why you need Someone who is much more powerful than heroin or anything else for that matter - to set you free... you mentioned to me that you have 'somewhat' a relationship with God, but do you realize that God wants so much more than that? He loves you so much - He wants a relationship with you that is so much deeper than just a casual aquaintance. I don't want to sound "preachy" to you - I just know what it's like to be in bondage to drugs and now I know what it's like to be free... and there is NO WAY that I'd ever be free if it weren't for Jesus Christ. "For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son that whoever believes in Him should not persih but have everlasting life." (John 3:16) "And you shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free." (John 8:32) "Therefore if the Son sets you free, you shall be free indeed." (John 8:36)
If He could set me free, I know He can do it for ANYone! Okay, I'll stop now. But I'll never stop praying for you! I believe in you, and God does too!
Have a Mery CHRISTmas - try to remember that this holiday is a celebration of Jesus' birth, God coming to earth as a man, to save the world... God bless you!
Love,
Laurie
Rituals and EmotionsMood: d'ohNow Playing: Ritualistically...Topic: Drugs
STARING AT MY SPOON, dregs of heroin remaining, knowing if I cook them up I will at least feel something…
They say heroin is a drug of rituals (and paraphernalia). During the heavy phase of my addiction I carried with me at all times a little tin box containing spoon, elastic tourniquet, “works” (my 1ml insulin needle-+-syringes), vitamin C, filters and a 50ml bottle of tap water, always fresh that day. Ready to go at all times!
One night, walking past an antiques shop I found a tiny silver jam spoon on the pavement. It seemed perfect for my uses. In fact, the handle was ready bent, junkie-style, so it would sit on a tabletop without spilling. I cooked up my gear in this spoon for several months, joking that I wished I had been born with it in my mouth.
I loved that silver spoon. Unfortunately during one of my botched detox attempts it got thrown away by a well-meaning person. (Not stolen, incidentally: this person was one of the very few I knew who didn’t touch drugs.)
During another of my get clean buzzes, I disposed of all my crack bottles no problem (I had been using crack too heavily at this particular time.) But on seeing my bent-handled spoons collection sitting there waiting to go my heart wrenched out.
Sad to say but I have loved heroin — and I do mean loved it — as nothing else on earth. It has been the be-all and the end all of my life. And as is so very often said, a life on heroin is in very many respects a life made simpler. Heroin is your medicine, your lover, your reason for being, your one-and-all. Life becomes a constant quest to ensure a steady supply.
Whereas with crack, I can always reason to myself that an hour or two later I won’t usually won’t usually feel any better for having taken it, an extra hit of heroin, or heroin on top of methadone would make me feel better all afternoon.
When I have attempted to take the opiates all away — ie to detox myself, as I have done several times over the years, I’ve rapidly become so very bereft without the drugs I couldn’t handle it. I came running back to the “gear” every time.
Trying to explain myself, knowing most of my readers have never had this problem, or at least don’t have it now, I’m confronted by just how very sad this emotional longing is. But addiction is a very emotional thing. Emotions are sad, sometimes. The irony (heroin is a rich source of contradictions) is that the stuff actually robs you, in the end, of the vividness of all feelings.
Right. And I’m stumped for something further to say.
It’s all about circles. Vicious, vicious things.
Posted by gledwood at 1:07 AM GMT
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Wednesday, 20 December 2006 - 8:32 PM GMT
Name: "mousie" Home Page: http://plumpiemousie.blogspot.comE-Mail: claudine.le-gac@laposte.net
Glewood please, come on ...you make me crazy today...please try to do something...
we can't stay there watching you being so silly and destroying yourself...
if you write it must be because you want people to read you, to listen to you...
so read us as well, read our comments, listen to us...
PLEASE...sure something is possible...you can't go on...you're too intelligent...please...
I was popping just to say have a good night my friend, but feel so helpless...how could we help you?
listen to your mums Mousie and Ruth...you're important for us...
take care dear
Mousie
Reply to this Comment
Friday, 22 December 2006 - 7:43 PM GMT
Name: "Gledwood" Home Page: http://gledwood.tripod.com/blog
Comments Page 1 of 1
Dear Mousie,
I'm sorry if I upset you. I'm not writing to upset anyone. I'm just trying to be honest. I'm not actually asking for help. I'm keeping the blog to (A) show people even drug addicts have thoughts and feelings and opinions and there's more to drug addiction than the images you see in newspapers and on the streetcorner in big cities and (B) as a true confession of what it actually IS like to be hooked on drugs. I've been on the heroin daily for nearly 7 years. I've been on and off methadone. The methadone has made me better than I was, much better; but for me it's not been a total cure.
Please don't get too upset. I'm not trying to upset anybody. I'm grateful that you care. Think of all the good things you have done. When I said your blog was one of the best things for cheering me up I meant it.
I'm going to my friend's up the road for Christmas. I hope you have a v. merry one too.
With lots of love
Gleds
xx
Wednesday, 20 December 2006 - 8:32 PM GMT
Name: "mousie" Home Page: http://plumpiemousie.blogspot.com
Reply to this Comment
Sunday, 24 December 2006 - 3:54 AM GMT
Name: "Laurie" Home Page: http://www.laurieishii.comE-Mail: laurieishii@yahoo.com
Hi Gledwood,
I have just finished reading a few of your blogs... this one about the rituals reminds me of when I used to carry a leather pouch, wherever I went, which contained sringes, a vial of saline water, spoon, rubber tie, cotton, lighter, baggies of cocaine (if I could afford it) and baking soda (in case I did have cocaine or ende up attaining some - I could coke it into freebase) crack pipe, brillo, pusher... I was very methodical and prepared at any given moment...
It is good that you do not glamorize your addiction, because there is nothing glamorous about being an addict at all - there is such a thing as "junkie pride" and I had it, at the beginning of my addiction I felt 'special' somehow - I didn't realize until after some time did I become such a SLAVE. Being a heroin addict is very humbling - to be so dependent on something besides oneself - I would do just about anything to keep myself from being dope sick or just from feeling the realities of life... I read some articles about the women in Suffolk - they were all addicts - a couple specifically addicted to heroin... it was not surprising to me - I didn't know many (if any) females who were strung out on heroin that did NOT prostitute at some time or another... heroin caused me to compromise myself in the worst way.
Gledwood, your sweet friend Mousie asks that you "Please do something..." what she doesn't realize is that it isn't so easy... you are hooked to something much more powerful than you are - which is why you need Someone who is much more powerful than heroin or anything else for that matter - to set you free... you mentioned to me that you have 'somewhat' a relationship with God, but do you realize that God wants so much more than that? He loves you so much - He wants a relationship with you that is so much deeper than just a casual aquaintance. I don't want to sound "preachy" to you - I just know what it's like to be in bondage to drugs and now I know what it's like to be free... and there is NO WAY that I'd ever be free if it weren't for Jesus Christ. "For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son that whoever believes in Him should not persih but have everlasting life." (John 3:16) "And you shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free." (John 8:32) "Therefore if the Son sets you free, you shall be free indeed." (John 8:36)
If He could set me free, I know He can do it for ANYone! Okay, I'll stop now. But I'll never stop praying for you! I believe in you, and God does too!
Have a Mery CHRISTmas - try to remember that this holiday is a celebration of Jesus' birth, God coming to earth as a man, to save the world... God bless you!
Love,
Laurie
The Root of Unhappiness
Monday, 11 December 2006
THE ROOT OF UNHAPPINESSMood: spaceyNow Playing: The RemembererTopic: Drugs FAQ
YOU DON'T NEED TO BE ADDICTED TO DRUGS to know craving… think of food addicts, gamblers… (I don’t include alcohol; alcohol is a drug).
Simple old unhappiness… I remember years of it. That utter bleak despair, lost in the dark… But the more common experience of misery (more persistent and long-lasting, one that doesn’t call for help) is being just about okay. Showing the world you do cope — just.
All the time craving something nameless, something more.
Usually we satisfy this craving in “healthy” ways: chocolate biscuits, our favourite television programmes, sex…
We all know of Adam and Eve and the forbidden fruit. We know the legend of Pandora’s Box. WE see wizened old junkies on our TV screens saying heroin and crack are “The Devil’s Drugs”. Life’s experiences (usually) stretch to guessing what they might be speaking of.
Crack takes you up — way up high. Unlike smoking a cigarette or spliff, the entire dose is taken in a single breath, so the effect is compounded. Just like an injection, all the coke hits the brain in seconds, all at once. For five minutes or so you can float in euphoria before falling. Then you’re left with two options: take more crack or take something else to make you forget it. (“Forgetting” crack, takes potent stuff.)
Crack cocaine hooks nobody at their first smoke. That’s a media myth. And it’s dangerous because it puts vulnerable people at risk. If that’s not true, they reason, what is? Suddenly, unsupervised in the Devil’s Playground, every game seems worth a whirl. “Indulge! You’ll be fine!” temptation urges.
In my “formative years” I was exceedingly impressionable. Vulnerable to all life chucked at me (it threw quite a lot). And once I left home it seemed to throw it all at once. I count myself lucky that heroin and coke were not among the plethora of chemicals that came whooshing in my direction once I was left to fend them off alone.
I shudder to think what might have become of me had I acquired a source of hard drugs at a young age. I doubt I’d be around to speak to you now.
All youngsters experience pain when growing up; mine grew into agonies and I would never go through them again. (At times I was such a wreck I couldn’t even look the assistants in the eye when paying for things in shops. I “blanked” most people automatically, not to be rude but because I was too shy to broach a conversation (even with folks I knew). It is to their great credit that the friends I did make back then saw in me “something” worth knowing. Still, I don’t believe they knew the real me for the most part. I was defeated by depression, I was only half alive. That’s why I count myself lucky. If heroin had got me then I can’t see I could ever have survived it.
For the most part cannabis smoke swirled around me, as well as so-called “candies” — the dance drugs ecstasy and LSD and speed… I knew people hooked on “toking spliff” — from waking to putting their head down at night they put cannabis ciggies to their lips, and (unlike President Clinton) they inhaled very deeply indeed. Cannabis never suited me enough to become a constant companion.
As for the so-called Dance Drugs, some of those chemicals + my unhappy mind =’d reactions (esp. to LSD) severe enough to put off onlookers from ever dabbling with “trips” for the rest of their lives.
Well, now it’s the heroin that’s got me. The other drugs I take have become subsidiary to my main habit, my so-called Drug of Choice. Heroin does things to you no antidrugs poster could ever explain. I cannot recall, for example, the last time I woke first thing with a bright, free spirit, thinking, “What am I doing today?”
My days have decayed. Money = money to score. No money = methadone misery. Do what you have to… daylight passes… back to bed.
Life on this stuff turns black and white.
You either have your gear and you’re happy — or you don’t and life is misery. But between black and white and shades of grey, life’s myriad colours, somehow, have all gone.
Perhaps you’re wondering why I feel the need to say these things.
For one thing among many, I can’t recall anywhere I’ve come across an accurate account of drug addiction from the inside. Writers tend to fictionalize their experiences, or else pen autobiography, often years after the fact. By this time, finer details have escaped them. Memory, as I said yesterday, is an expert Trickster.
Forgetfulness is vast as the Seven Seas…
Posted by gledwood at 3:49 PM GMT
Updated: Monday, 11 December 2006 4:06 PM GMT
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Comments Page 1 of 1
Wednesday, 3 January 2007 - 2:30 AM GMT
Name: "Tatess" Home Page: http://ssssf
gf
Reply to this Comment
Thursday, 4 January 2007 - 10:46 PM GMT
Name: "Elsie" Home Page: http://ezi-gifts-galore.blogspot.com
I know why you feel to say and write and share these things. It is for mothers like me who do not know anymore how to help their children who in a way do not want help and as you mentioned in another post, who are not yet ready to let go of this habit.
Thank you so much for sharing and telling it straight. Maybe somewhere in here I will find the knowledge to understand my son of 28 who has been on this for years and now really is on "A highway to Hell"
Thank you, I am going to subscribe to your blog, I cannot miss any of your posts
Keep well and look after yourself, please
Elsie
Reply to this Comment
Friday, 5 January 2007 - 11:34 PM GMT
Name: "Gledwood" Home Page: http://gledwood.tripod.com/blog
A child is born... you cut the cord.
A boy grows into a man.
He lives his own life.
You can hate what he does and yet love him all the very same.
He is an adult, standing on his own two feet. He is responsible for what he does.
I'm sure you've done all you can to help... but, on reflection, what can you do? When drugs have hijacked someone else's behaviour? And as I say he might not WANT to be, but he IS a responsible adult. He has no choice in this. (I know how childish addicts can be!)
The best thing you can do is stand by and when he needs you and is ready to quit, THEN you can help him.
Take care of yourself.
Gledwood
Reply to this Comment
Sunday, 7 January 2007 - 4:52 PM GMT
Name: "Elsie" Home Page: http://ezi-gifts-galore.blogspot.com
"Gledwood" wrote:
A child is born... you cut the cord.
A boy grows into a man.
He lives his own life.
You can hate what he does and yet love him all the very same.
He is an adult, standing on his own two feet. He is responsible for what he does.
I'm sure you've done all you can to help... but, on reflection, what can you do? When drugs have hijacked someone else's behaviour? And as I say he might not WANT to be, but he IS a responsible adult. He has no choice in this. (I know how childish addicts can be!)
The best thing you can do is stand by and when he needs you and is ready to quit, THEN you can help him.
Take care of yourself.
Gledwood
Hi Gledwood
Thanks for the words. I know it deep in my heart and have decided after another month of "help" that was thrown back in my face (or that is what it feels like to me, or no, that is what he does every time!!!!!) to cut the cord and leave him to sort out his own life.
but why does it feel as if my heart is being ripped to pieces with guilt? My nerves are small tight bundles and when the phone rings, I die a thousand deaths because I never know if this is the day that somebody will tell me he has finally OD'ed for the last time. (do not know how to say this better)
But for my own sanity I have to do this, and go on with my own live as well and as my post - The Gift of Believing - says, we learn to make do, make better, make believe.
thanks for your visit to my blog and the link on your blog.
As always, please take care of yourself too.
Reply to this Comment
Friday, 12 January 2007 - 12:03 AM GMT
Name: "Gledwood" Home Page: http://gledwood.tripod.com/blog
I feel I want to say something... not quite sure what TO say...
I CAN understand how you feel but you shouldn't feel ripped apart by guilt ... it's someone else's behaviour.
Sounds like the situation's been getting way too emotionally intense and you just need to take some time out. Am I right?
Take care,
Gledwood
Reply to this Comment
Saturday, 13 January 2007 - 7:24 PM GMT
Name: "anonymous"
"Gledwood" wrote:
I feel I want to say something... not quite sure what TO say...
I CAN understand how you feel but you shouldn't feel ripped apart by guilt ... it's someone else's behaviour.
Sounds like the situation's been getting way too emotionally intense and you just need to take some time out. Am I right?
Take care,
Gledwood
Hi
After I left my last comment, I went to bed and had such a long conversation with you in my mind (and I think with my son as well and all the other drug users in the world- and the poor misled Chipper who has so many reasons why heroin is good for a person) but as you said in this post, sometimes you do not know why you write this feelings......
It is the same with me, I have for many years had this feeling that my words are useless, unheard, floating into the air to disappear there for ever.
One thing, it is difficult to let go emotionally, he is my only son......
Strangely, while I am writing this, we are talking for the first time since early December when he left the house again, telling me that he is in a new graphic designing training course (he is really good with this) and then he will have this job and some other things happening in his life now.
And I? I do not know what to believe - should I believe and hope?
can I believe??
__________________________
It is the lies that hurt the most
Because lies destroy trust.......
and it feels awful not to trust the ones you love
__________________________
Take care
and publish more poetry
Lc
Reply to this Comment
Sunday, 14 January 2007 - 11:18 PM GMT
Name: "Gledwood" Home Page: http://gledwood.tripod.com/blog
You know the saying: Ask no questions, hear no lies?
When he has good news to tell you, you'll know. It will be written all over him. Then you will know he definitely IS telling the truth...
I just wanted to add this now. I will get in touch again later.
Take care, & all the very best,
Gledwood
THE ROOT OF UNHAPPINESSMood: spaceyNow Playing: The RemembererTopic: Drugs FAQ
YOU DON'T NEED TO BE ADDICTED TO DRUGS to know craving… think of food addicts, gamblers… (I don’t include alcohol; alcohol is a drug).
Simple old unhappiness… I remember years of it. That utter bleak despair, lost in the dark… But the more common experience of misery (more persistent and long-lasting, one that doesn’t call for help) is being just about okay. Showing the world you do cope — just.
All the time craving something nameless, something more.
Usually we satisfy this craving in “healthy” ways: chocolate biscuits, our favourite television programmes, sex…
We all know of Adam and Eve and the forbidden fruit. We know the legend of Pandora’s Box. WE see wizened old junkies on our TV screens saying heroin and crack are “The Devil’s Drugs”. Life’s experiences (usually) stretch to guessing what they might be speaking of.
Crack takes you up — way up high. Unlike smoking a cigarette or spliff, the entire dose is taken in a single breath, so the effect is compounded. Just like an injection, all the coke hits the brain in seconds, all at once. For five minutes or so you can float in euphoria before falling. Then you’re left with two options: take more crack or take something else to make you forget it. (“Forgetting” crack, takes potent stuff.)
Crack cocaine hooks nobody at their first smoke. That’s a media myth. And it’s dangerous because it puts vulnerable people at risk. If that’s not true, they reason, what is? Suddenly, unsupervised in the Devil’s Playground, every game seems worth a whirl. “Indulge! You’ll be fine!” temptation urges.
In my “formative years” I was exceedingly impressionable. Vulnerable to all life chucked at me (it threw quite a lot). And once I left home it seemed to throw it all at once. I count myself lucky that heroin and coke were not among the plethora of chemicals that came whooshing in my direction once I was left to fend them off alone.
I shudder to think what might have become of me had I acquired a source of hard drugs at a young age. I doubt I’d be around to speak to you now.
All youngsters experience pain when growing up; mine grew into agonies and I would never go through them again. (At times I was such a wreck I couldn’t even look the assistants in the eye when paying for things in shops. I “blanked” most people automatically, not to be rude but because I was too shy to broach a conversation (even with folks I knew). It is to their great credit that the friends I did make back then saw in me “something” worth knowing. Still, I don’t believe they knew the real me for the most part. I was defeated by depression, I was only half alive. That’s why I count myself lucky. If heroin had got me then I can’t see I could ever have survived it.
For the most part cannabis smoke swirled around me, as well as so-called “candies” — the dance drugs ecstasy and LSD and speed… I knew people hooked on “toking spliff” — from waking to putting their head down at night they put cannabis ciggies to their lips, and (unlike President Clinton) they inhaled very deeply indeed. Cannabis never suited me enough to become a constant companion.
As for the so-called Dance Drugs, some of those chemicals + my unhappy mind =’d reactions (esp. to LSD) severe enough to put off onlookers from ever dabbling with “trips” for the rest of their lives.
Well, now it’s the heroin that’s got me. The other drugs I take have become subsidiary to my main habit, my so-called Drug of Choice. Heroin does things to you no antidrugs poster could ever explain. I cannot recall, for example, the last time I woke first thing with a bright, free spirit, thinking, “What am I doing today?”
My days have decayed. Money = money to score. No money = methadone misery. Do what you have to… daylight passes… back to bed.
Life on this stuff turns black and white.
You either have your gear and you’re happy — or you don’t and life is misery. But between black and white and shades of grey, life’s myriad colours, somehow, have all gone.
Perhaps you’re wondering why I feel the need to say these things.
For one thing among many, I can’t recall anywhere I’ve come across an accurate account of drug addiction from the inside. Writers tend to fictionalize their experiences, or else pen autobiography, often years after the fact. By this time, finer details have escaped them. Memory, as I said yesterday, is an expert Trickster.
Forgetfulness is vast as the Seven Seas…
Posted by gledwood at 3:49 PM GMT
Updated: Monday, 11 December 2006 4:06 PM GMT
Post Comment View Comments (7) Permalink
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Comments Page 1 of 1
Wednesday, 3 January 2007 - 2:30 AM GMT
Name: "Tatess" Home Page: http://ssssf
gf
Reply to this Comment
Thursday, 4 January 2007 - 10:46 PM GMT
Name: "Elsie" Home Page: http://ezi-gifts-galore.blogspot.com
I know why you feel to say and write and share these things. It is for mothers like me who do not know anymore how to help their children who in a way do not want help and as you mentioned in another post, who are not yet ready to let go of this habit.
Thank you so much for sharing and telling it straight. Maybe somewhere in here I will find the knowledge to understand my son of 28 who has been on this for years and now really is on "A highway to Hell"
Thank you, I am going to subscribe to your blog, I cannot miss any of your posts
Keep well and look after yourself, please
Elsie
Reply to this Comment
Friday, 5 January 2007 - 11:34 PM GMT
Name: "Gledwood" Home Page: http://gledwood.tripod.com/blog
A child is born... you cut the cord.
A boy grows into a man.
He lives his own life.
You can hate what he does and yet love him all the very same.
He is an adult, standing on his own two feet. He is responsible for what he does.
I'm sure you've done all you can to help... but, on reflection, what can you do? When drugs have hijacked someone else's behaviour? And as I say he might not WANT to be, but he IS a responsible adult. He has no choice in this. (I know how childish addicts can be!)
The best thing you can do is stand by and when he needs you and is ready to quit, THEN you can help him.
Take care of yourself.
Gledwood
Reply to this Comment
Sunday, 7 January 2007 - 4:52 PM GMT
Name: "Elsie" Home Page: http://ezi-gifts-galore.blogspot.com
"Gledwood" wrote:
A child is born... you cut the cord.
A boy grows into a man.
He lives his own life.
You can hate what he does and yet love him all the very same.
He is an adult, standing on his own two feet. He is responsible for what he does.
I'm sure you've done all you can to help... but, on reflection, what can you do? When drugs have hijacked someone else's behaviour? And as I say he might not WANT to be, but he IS a responsible adult. He has no choice in this. (I know how childish addicts can be!)
The best thing you can do is stand by and when he needs you and is ready to quit, THEN you can help him.
Take care of yourself.
Gledwood
Hi Gledwood
Thanks for the words. I know it deep in my heart and have decided after another month of "help" that was thrown back in my face (or that is what it feels like to me, or no, that is what he does every time!!!!!) to cut the cord and leave him to sort out his own life.
but why does it feel as if my heart is being ripped to pieces with guilt? My nerves are small tight bundles and when the phone rings, I die a thousand deaths because I never know if this is the day that somebody will tell me he has finally OD'ed for the last time. (do not know how to say this better)
But for my own sanity I have to do this, and go on with my own live as well and as my post - The Gift of Believing - says, we learn to make do, make better, make believe.
thanks for your visit to my blog and the link on your blog.
As always, please take care of yourself too.
Reply to this Comment
Friday, 12 January 2007 - 12:03 AM GMT
Name: "Gledwood" Home Page: http://gledwood.tripod.com/blog
I feel I want to say something... not quite sure what TO say...
I CAN understand how you feel but you shouldn't feel ripped apart by guilt ... it's someone else's behaviour.
Sounds like the situation's been getting way too emotionally intense and you just need to take some time out. Am I right?
Take care,
Gledwood
Reply to this Comment
Saturday, 13 January 2007 - 7:24 PM GMT
Name: "anonymous"
"Gledwood" wrote:
I feel I want to say something... not quite sure what TO say...
I CAN understand how you feel but you shouldn't feel ripped apart by guilt ... it's someone else's behaviour.
Sounds like the situation's been getting way too emotionally intense and you just need to take some time out. Am I right?
Take care,
Gledwood
Hi
After I left my last comment, I went to bed and had such a long conversation with you in my mind (and I think with my son as well and all the other drug users in the world- and the poor misled Chipper who has so many reasons why heroin is good for a person) but as you said in this post, sometimes you do not know why you write this feelings......
It is the same with me, I have for many years had this feeling that my words are useless, unheard, floating into the air to disappear there for ever.
One thing, it is difficult to let go emotionally, he is my only son......
Strangely, while I am writing this, we are talking for the first time since early December when he left the house again, telling me that he is in a new graphic designing training course (he is really good with this) and then he will have this job and some other things happening in his life now.
And I? I do not know what to believe - should I believe and hope?
can I believe??
__________________________
It is the lies that hurt the most
Because lies destroy trust.......
and it feels awful not to trust the ones you love
__________________________
Take care
and publish more poetry
Lc
Reply to this Comment
Sunday, 14 January 2007 - 11:18 PM GMT
Name: "Gledwood" Home Page: http://gledwood.tripod.com/blog
You know the saying: Ask no questions, hear no lies?
When he has good news to tell you, you'll know. It will be written all over him. Then you will know he definitely IS telling the truth...
I just wanted to add this now. I will get in touch again later.
Take care, & all the very best,
Gledwood
State of Flux
State of FluxMood: chillin'Now Playing: It StraightTopic: Daily Doings
I'M IN A STATE OF FLUX. Intending to score /intending not to. Put on shoes. Took shoes off. Told self it was too late to call Person I had in mind. (It's1am Saturday.) Put shoes back on (I say "shoes", they're minging silver Nikes.)
Went out in the rainy dark.
About-turned again.
The money is there but I can't afford to score. There are bills & debts I'm meant to pay.
So I'm being real respectible, for now...
Posted by gledwood at 6:34 PM GMT
Updated: Monday, 4 December 2006 7:18 PM GMT
I'M IN A STATE OF FLUX. Intending to score /intending not to. Put on shoes. Took shoes off. Told self it was too late to call Person I had in mind. (It's1am Saturday.) Put shoes back on (I say "shoes", they're minging silver Nikes.)
Went out in the rainy dark.
About-turned again.
The money is there but I can't afford to score. There are bills & debts I'm meant to pay.
So I'm being real respectible, for now...
Posted by gledwood at 6:34 PM GMT
Updated: Monday, 4 December 2006 7:18 PM GMT
Between a Rock...
Tuesday, 28 November 2006
Between a Rock and a Hard PlaceMood: crushed outNow Playing: ...Topic: Between a Rock...
BETWEEN A ROCK and a hard place...
When I haven't got it I think of little else... When it's there I find myself wanting more.
Remember that song from a few years back: The Drugs Don't Work? It's a feeling I know too well.
When I talk of wanting more I don't mean more drugs. I know there isn't a drug in the world that's going to answer my craving ——. A craving for what?
I'm rarely lost for words, but I can't name what I most desire. Maybe we're all like that. Maybe I've just pushed myself further than most in certain respects. And maybe most people don't even know they want this nameless wordless thing. Who knows?
Now I admit it here. — I can be exceptionally lazy. I'm an all-or-nothing kind of person. When I do set out to do something I get such a bee in my bonnet it obsesses me night and day. E.g. You should see how many Confessions I have scrawled in my notebook and not posted!
At times past in the most intense period of my addiction I was so intent on using-scoring-raising money to score I thought of little else. I stopped daydreaming. I stopped planning anything except when I was going to go out and start raising money.The future meant nothing to me. My life reduced to the 24-hour cycle of day-in day-out using. I was living with someone who was extremely challenging to be with. I blocked this person out; I blocked out most of life in the process.
My addiction was all-consuming. You could say it nearly consumed me.
Nowadays I try to cultivate interests. To read good books. (Wordsworth do a fantstic range of £1.99 Classics — my current read is Anna Karenina alternating with Lord of the Rings.) I love poetry. I love animals. I love my pet Chinese Mouse. (He's actually a cricitulus griseus Chinese hamster but he looks just like a little fieldmouse. His name is Harvey: Harvey the Chinese Harvest Mouse. He sleeps up my sleeve sometimes and doesn't want to come out. He is washing his ears by my elbow as I speak...
Must go now. I want some Jaffa Cakes. L8Rs, Gleds .
Posted by gledwood at 11:18 PM GMT
Updated: Tuesday, 28 November 2006 11:21 PM GMT
Between a Rock and a Hard PlaceMood: crushed outNow Playing: ...Topic: Between a Rock...
BETWEEN A ROCK and a hard place...
When I haven't got it I think of little else... When it's there I find myself wanting more.
Remember that song from a few years back: The Drugs Don't Work? It's a feeling I know too well.
When I talk of wanting more I don't mean more drugs. I know there isn't a drug in the world that's going to answer my craving ——. A craving for what?
I'm rarely lost for words, but I can't name what I most desire. Maybe we're all like that. Maybe I've just pushed myself further than most in certain respects. And maybe most people don't even know they want this nameless wordless thing. Who knows?
Now I admit it here. — I can be exceptionally lazy. I'm an all-or-nothing kind of person. When I do set out to do something I get such a bee in my bonnet it obsesses me night and day. E.g. You should see how many Confessions I have scrawled in my notebook and not posted!
At times past in the most intense period of my addiction I was so intent on using-scoring-raising money to score I thought of little else. I stopped daydreaming. I stopped planning anything except when I was going to go out and start raising money.The future meant nothing to me. My life reduced to the 24-hour cycle of day-in day-out using. I was living with someone who was extremely challenging to be with. I blocked this person out; I blocked out most of life in the process.
My addiction was all-consuming. You could say it nearly consumed me.
Nowadays I try to cultivate interests. To read good books. (Wordsworth do a fantstic range of £1.99 Classics — my current read is Anna Karenina alternating with Lord of the Rings.) I love poetry. I love animals. I love my pet Chinese Mouse. (He's actually a cricitulus griseus Chinese hamster but he looks just like a little fieldmouse. His name is Harvey: Harvey the Chinese Harvest Mouse. He sleeps up my sleeve sometimes and doesn't want to come out. He is washing his ears by my elbow as I speak...
Must go now. I want some Jaffa Cakes. L8Rs, Gleds .
Posted by gledwood at 11:18 PM GMT
Updated: Tuesday, 28 November 2006 11:21 PM GMT
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