The Meaning of Craving

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 ...


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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!!)




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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 ...


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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.

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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....


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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!!

Snowball Miss...

Sunday, 10 December 2006
Mood: not sureNow Playing: Every DayTopic: Daily Doings
FIVE O'CLOCK IN THE MORNING and I am butchering myself. Heroin-cocaine mixture ("speedball/snowball"); blunt needles, veins that have had enough. I sit there with blood running down my arms and legs. After 20 minutes of trying everywhere, finally get the "hit" into vein below my little finger...
...It misses (or the vein collapses). I got an acid burn up my arm (big white lumps like huge mosquito bites from the "acidifier", equivalent to double-strength lemon juice)...
Then I went to sleep. Ho-hum...
That was last night, it is Sunday night now.
It is a miserable evening,; chilly, raining. Three hours ago I rang someone for "gear". I know this person always takes ages, especially on Sundays, so I called him well ahead of time. But two hours later, he's not answering my "where the hell are you?" calls, so I ring someone else. Then the first one rings back saying come out to the end of my street. Sure enough he's there. Barely have I had the chance to draw breath since arriving back in my own house than my phone rings again. Now it's guy number two... I don't want to deal with this. Trouble is these two individuals know one another too well and are very petty-minded and jealous.
Strange to say, but I feel I have to put these passing thoughts in writing for the sake of posterity, because if I don't, and then I do get clean, the past will become a blur... (Never underestimate the power of memory to play tricks! Memories, if we're not careful, become treasuries of all those things we think we should remember...) I don't want to lose the past any more than I want to live there. And that, I think, is quite enough on that subject for today!

Posted by gledwood at 7:01 PM GMT
Updated: Tuesday, 12 December 2006 11:08 PM GMT
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Comments Page 1 of 1
Saturday, 16 December 2006 - 6:31 AM GMT
Name: "Wow..." Home Page: http://www.laurieishii.comE-Mail: laurieishii@yahoo.com
Wow does that sound familiar... no veins... my fingers, my toes, bottoms of my feet - especially with speedballs - you do NOT want to miss - lemon juice - had a BAD allergic reaction from a bad lemon once and almost died... or vinegar works too... 'safer' - shot in my wrist once, in a main artery - missed and hand went numb - couldn't do anything for days... scared I really did it that time... infections, always getting Cellulitis- almost had to gt my arm cut off once... hot baths just to find a vein somewhere, anywhere... neck's all gone - best place, straight to the head... it's all such a mindless game of frustration...
But I didn't stop until I had nothing felt - couldn't even shoot coke anywmore and had to IM muscle my heroin - not as fun... stop, stop, stop... you know you can't do it yourself but I know Someone who can help you... He's your only hope... please, before you die...
Reply to this Comment
Saturday, 16 December 2006 - 11:24 PM GMT
Name: "Gledwood" Home Page: http://gledwood.tripod.com/blog (here!!)

Hmm. I take your point. I know one person in particular who's even running out of places to IM... Think of bulletproof megacellulite around the bum+thighs... As for cellulitis I've had that twice in not much more than a year, phlebitis, and recently I had three abscesses at once. I count myself lucky none needed lancing (though I was SO tempted to do it myself!) or worse hospital treatment. The same friend who has the bulletproof IM-marks got an abscess that was LITERALLY DOWN TO THE BONE on the leg within 4 days. Hospital. General anaesthesia. I held this person's hand... What else can I say. Thanks for your comment though, I'm just about to go back to your site. All the best, Gleds.
"Wow..." wrote:
Wow does that sound familiar... no veins... my fingers, my toes, bottoms of my feet - especially with speedballs - you do NOT want to miss - lemon juice - had a BAD allergic reaction from a bad lemon once and almost died... or vinegar works too... 'safer' - shot in my wrist once, in a main artery - missed and hand went numb - couldn't do anything for days... scared I really did it that time... infections, always getting Cellulitis- almost had to gt my arm cut off once... hot baths just to find a vein somewhere, anywhere... neck's all gone - best place, straight to the head... it's all such a mindless game of frustration...
But I didn't stop until I had nothing felt - couldn't even shoot coke anywmore and had to IM muscle my heroin - not as fun... stop, stop, stop... you know you can't do it yourself but I know Someone who can help you... He's your only hope... please, before you die...