okay, first of all: splinter, shut up. seriously. "require a vast lack of intelligence"? you must be so lonely, being the only intelligent person on the planet. there is absolutely no correlation between intelligence and addiction. if anything, the opposite of what you're saying is true. almost all the junkies i know are brilliant, creative, curious people. i'm inclined to think that if you're of a certain intellectual capacity (coupled with a generally empathetic manner of relating to people) that the state of the world is so overwhelming any escape becomes welcome. anyone can make a mistake, take something too far. it doesn't have anything to do with how smart they are, how much money they have, their social standing or anything else, save what is going on in their heads (or hearts).
now, i'm gonna share my own story here, as it relates to the discussion at hand. all of the legal issues are long since resolved, so i risk nothing here and maybe it will help some people to see how messed up some of these laws really are, and how they can be twisted and used in ways far different than their original intent.
about four and a half years ago, i was pretty new to junk. i had maintained a fairly ridiculous pill habit for a couple years already, but heroin had taken me some time to track down. small towns are like that, i guess. finally, a connection fell into place in a small city about an hour from where i lived. for a few months, from summer through december, when this happened, i was picking up as often as my finances and transportation allowed. everything about it was a nightmare; i didn't have a dealer, i had a middle man, and she took me for all i was worth every time. but i had no way around her then, and i put up with it because i needed the dope and the quality was decent, getting better. i was introduced to this girl by a friend of mine from my hometown, who had recently moved to this city. through her, we met another junkie, one who lived between the city and where i lived. it would be awfully convenient to be able to meet him and not have to go the whole way, but like most junkies, he was usually broke and certainly couldn't hold onto anything long enough for me to meet him. so on and off i saw this guy when i went down to cop, and a few times i bought extra bags off him when he needed money. he definitely wasn't a dealer, but he was still a step above me, knowing the girl a lot better than i did.
one night he called me, absolutely desperate. his fiancée had just left him and he really needed to get high, but had no money. he said that if i could come to his place, he could facilitate a pick-up. the girl was in that town, staying with her parents, and had brought some extra with her. he would set it up if i could spot him a couple of bags. this was pretty exciting, not having to go all the way to the city and not having to wait for the girl to get it, skimp it, and then deliver it. so yeah, i called up my friend and we agreed it was worth it and drove to meet him. pick up was quick and smooth, unlike we had experienced before, and we went back to his place. keep in mind, we were all basically accomplices here, he set up the deal but i provided the money and my friend the ride. we were all just junkies using the same connect.
we each did two bags (like i said, i was new to to dope). the kid could not hit himself for some reason, sticking his arm three times in three different places. finally, he asked me for help. i thought this was pretty ridiculous, because he had been doing this for a lot longer than i had and in fact had helped me refine my technique in the beginning. but whatever, i helped him. he had chosen his own dose, cooked it up himself, and loaded the rig. i just stuck it in.
it wasn't the best stuff, but not awful. pretty average for that time and place. i walked into the kitchen to get a drink and came back to find the guy out cold, sitting up, lips blue. my friend and i looked at each other, fear rising, reality setting in. when it became apparent that we weren't going to be able to wake him up (yelling, slapping him, pouring ice water over his head and down his pants, dragging him into the shower) my friend wanted to bolt. i SCREAMED at him that i wasn't going to leave this kid to die. i told him to leave if he had to, but i was calling 911.
i did, and they talked me through cpr until the cops showed up. my friend did elect to stay, which was fortunate, because my phone died pretty quickly and i had to switch to his. after the kid was taken by ambulance to the hospital (the paramedics frankly stating that they didn't know if he would survive without brain damage) the cops split us up for questioning. there was one state trooper and one county sheriff. and for some reason, a chaplain. threats, fake empathy, blah blah. they left without finding any drugs, but did get a rig from my friend's car and my spoon, which i had somehow forgotten to hide during the panic. they told us that we could expect to hear from them again, but that night there were no charges and we were told we could leave when we were sober enough to drive or could arrange to be picked up.
the next day, i found out by calling the hospital that the kid had made it and was in stable condition. my friend and i breathed a huge collective sigh of relief and waited on edge for the next couple of weeks for the cops to show up. nothing happened. months passed, and still nothing. my 21st birthday came and went, and summer was coming on. finally, just shy of six months since the od, the police showed up and arrested my friend and me separately. we were both charged with conspiracy to distribute a schedule 1 substance, to wit: heroin and distribution of a schedule 1 substance, to wit: heroin.
turns out the guy had told the police after waking up in the hospital that i had shot him up, and explained everything about how we had planned together to get the stuff and pooled resources. also turns out his dad was a state trooper. i don't know how much of a role this may have played in us being charged and him getting off, but there ya go.
anyway, neither my friend nor i could afford lawyers and ended up with court-appointed attorneys. i was fortunate that mine seemed pretty dedicated and agreed that the circumstances were pretty absurd, but made it very clear that i could still go to prison, even though i had never gotten so much as a traffic ticket before. apparently the county i was charged in has a reputation for being draconian with drug-related sentences. i went to rehab before going to court, and my lawyer was able to secure a deal: they would drop the two felony charges and instead charge me with a single count of possession, still a felony. in exchange for pleading guilty to this charge, i would be granted first offender status and only have to serve a year of probation, complete an outpatient drug program, complete the dmv alcohol/drug class, have a restricted license for six months, and perform 100 hours of community service. if at the end of my probationary period i had managed to not fuck anything up, the charge would be dropped and i would be free.
ultimately, this is what happened, and i am grateful to not be a felon. but let's take a second to look at what went down here: i was with someone who overdosed on a shot he prepared himself (and obtained himself, using my money). when he overdosed, i called 911 and according to the paramedics themselves, "saved his life." i was charged with two felonies for my trouble. if i hadn't had a clean record, i would have faced serious repercussions from this. my friend, unfortunately, did have a bit of a record and did not get off so easily. the exact nature of his agreement is unclear to me, but it has become apparent that he must have cooperated with law enforcement in some capacity to avoid jail time. (my lawyer asked if i would testify against the girl we had bought from if it was necessary and i told him that i would NOT consider it.)
so yes, i shot this kid up. this is, in the strictest sense, distribution, as i caused the drug to enter his body. but there is no proof of this, other than his word. so let's face it, i would have faced charges regardless. a grand jury thought the evidence was sufficient, apparently. and if he hadn't woken up? i was told by both the police and my own lawyer that i would have faced murder charges.
now, i ABSOLUTELY DO NOT REGRET CALLING 911. i would do it again without hesitation if i had to. yeah, the guy was an ungrateful little shit and provided testimony that resulted in my arrest. but I have a clear conscience, and that's what matters to me. but the cops, the court, they didn't give a fuck that i had helped to save a life. they saw a junkie from a few towns over coming into their midst and stirring up trouble with the good son of a good cop. these people put on blinders whenever it serves them, and they have the law (and all the might of enforcement) on their side.
stay safe.
