Ive actually taken down a few entries on paper during the day while I've been bored, during the time I was staying at my friend Tara's doing my...ohhhh 10000000th (?) detox off methamphetamine (some names in this blog are changed - these r ppl who might possibly go on BL, or who might b known by ppl who go on BL, as r the names of gangs i mention....I dont want to be killed, these gangs really do have ppl in them who know who I am....the beauty is, I'm not going to mention if said person is an alias or not so its your guess)
Anyway first entry - 3 days clean (unless were actually counting methadone/valium.....marijuana/alcohol? no....were not, my problem is meth....and opioids when im not on methadone....which is technically an opioid but u know wat i mean....), staying in henderson, auckland, at friends flat
I tribute these first few entries to Nikki Sixxs 'Heroin Diaries' - after all, when i was detoxing, i never really expected to publish them (even on BL) either.....i relate a lot to Nikki.....except hes clean now. everythings gotta b over the top....its all or nothing. thats me - heres to u Nikki (even though i think motley crue played catshit compared to iron maiden
)
anyway one chapter of that book was called 'You Could Say I Had A Love Affair With A 10cc Needle' (or something to that effect)
if i was to copy Sixx, this blog would be called 'The Methamphetamine Diaries'.....and this chapter wud b 'A Love Affair With A 3ml Syringe....And A Big Crack Pipe' (NB. if u dont come from NZ, we call crystal methamphetamine 'P' or 'crack' here.....u might find that stupid, but hey its not like u ever really see crack cocaine here, and if u do, u call it 'freebase' cos it was probly cooked by u.......yes ive tried crack cocaine....but it was *cough* from overseas, and yes it was fucking amazing......maybe too amazing).
Not that I don't like heroin. Don't get me wrong. I luv it. So much I'm now on methadone everyday. I luv drugs altogether. I luv being out of it. Coke, E, booze, hash. All ace.
But P is something else. When I see that fine crystal all settled in the pipe and were sitting in a group (that group these days mainly just me, Leon, Andrew, Adam, Chris and May.....the only crackheads I know as....sick....as me) and Mays firing up (May thinks shes better than us cos shes the daughter of some prominent asshole in NZ *job of that asshole disclosed or too obvious - even though shes disowned her dad) I'm smiling at everyone benignly.....everyone is.....but u can see the jitters in all of us. I am a mess inside. I'm sweaty, shaky, emotional.......but I keep that patient smile. I'm getting good at this. I don't like looking like a fiending methhead. Who does????
Inside I'm thinking 'come on May - just give it - why do you ALWAYS have to start???' (probably cos she usually provides the gear). My head spins. I no longer want P. I need it.
None of us are true friends deep down. Well we've all been in and out of bed together....but does that constitute friendship? We no longer fuck though. May and Chris are a couple.....when I was living with Leon we had a twisted sort of relationship.....but now our whole groups bond is formed on that elusive creeping vapour drifting out the top of that glass pipe.
Give me a choice between one of the old days with May (during the period both of us were going to NA and were clean apart from the odd drink) where we'd float in her spa then poke fun at her brother while raiding the alcohol cabinet for bollinger, at her dads mansion, then go out shopping and come back to her flat, laden down with CDs and clothes, giggling over boys and gossip and the normal things non-methheads talk about, or give me the other choice of activity that involves my so-called best friend.....and I'd still choose the second choice, even though I'm choosing to do this detox. Half of me wants to recover.....the other is too scared to live life without P again....to leave Mays group behind. Why? I can't answer that!
May isn't my best friend anyway. My best friend lives in another town.....we've never met face-to-face, but shes another BLer. She kind of puts May to shame.
May used to be my best friend until methamphetamine took her over though.
Why do I love methamphetamine? It's actually more like a lover than a best friend tbh. Why? Look at what it's done to me!
I'm recovering from P-induced septicemia.
I'm covered in trackmarks, have bad teeth and an even worse urethra.
Even though I weigh 39kg.
Being an addict is insane. You can love and hate something at the same time. Lose your life over a chemical and still love even it's name.
Meth-am-phet-a-mine.
Just sounds like another stupid chemical eh? To me that word is a lover, a life, a husband, a wife. Sometimes I think it is me!
I forget the psychotic comedowns. What its done to my body. How it still catches me by the ankle and trips me up when I least expect it. How it turns me into an animal. An animal who will do anything for a feed.
The first withdrawals for me are The Crash (where i sleep a long time for me - 1-3 days usually; this time it was 2) then I start to get psychotic. I forget how bad I've got until I notice the holes in my skin where I pick to let the 'bugs' out. I get texts from ppl like Marie/Mum/Katie and it turns out I've bn talking about men with guns watching me.
I usually get sick during withdrawal. My immune system goes to shit (plus I start chain-smoking) and I get colds/flus. Then asthma.
Dad honestly believed I'd never make 25. He actually took out funeral plans for me a long time ago, which breaks my heart. But I made 25 obviously. I am 25. Question is how much longer can I live like this - and live?
See theres one difference I don't share with the rest of the crowd I use with regularly. I inject mainly. Oh I luv to burn. That rush after smoking crack is amazing - but it's not my method of choice.
May and Chris use needles occasionally.....but not like me. Once I'm heavy on the P my pipe becomes a social thing only. Suddenly I'm back. With my lonely ritual. The shaking hand trying to hold the spoon with the puddle of methamphetamine solution, sucking it up through a 3ml barrel with another shaking hand (even looking at meth makes me shake, let alone dealing with it - in fact I've got a permanent tremor from meth use).
When I'm going through a major relapse I stop bothering with filters and even swabs - too much extra work. I'm too busy hungrily attaching that 26g fit (or 27g if I've run out of veins elsewhere and have to go for my groin) to the syringe, flicking impatiently to get rid of any Dreaded Bubbles then tightening the tourniquet with my teeth and sliding in the needle until the fit fills with that heavenly dark-red blood (the symbolism that I'm Ready To Go). At this point my whole body relaxes, i release the tourniquet and push down the plunger.
Meth isnt really a relaxing drug. But shooting crystal relaxes me. Because suddenly I'm filled with power. I'm someone else. I cease to be me. Me - that person I hate. Everything's going to be all right.
Nothings ever felt all right before. Not before crack. Yet nothing's right on it either.
Anyway first entry - 3 days clean (unless were actually counting methadone/valium.....marijuana/alcohol? no....were not, my problem is meth....and opioids when im not on methadone....which is technically an opioid but u know wat i mean....), staying in henderson, auckland, at friends flat
I tribute these first few entries to Nikki Sixxs 'Heroin Diaries' - after all, when i was detoxing, i never really expected to publish them (even on BL) either.....i relate a lot to Nikki.....except hes clean now. everythings gotta b over the top....its all or nothing. thats me - heres to u Nikki (even though i think motley crue played catshit compared to iron maiden
)anyway one chapter of that book was called 'You Could Say I Had A Love Affair With A 10cc Needle' (or something to that effect)
if i was to copy Sixx, this blog would be called 'The Methamphetamine Diaries'.....and this chapter wud b 'A Love Affair With A 3ml Syringe....And A Big Crack Pipe' (NB. if u dont come from NZ, we call crystal methamphetamine 'P' or 'crack' here.....u might find that stupid, but hey its not like u ever really see crack cocaine here, and if u do, u call it 'freebase' cos it was probly cooked by u.......yes ive tried crack cocaine....but it was *cough* from overseas, and yes it was fucking amazing......maybe too amazing).
Not that I don't like heroin. Don't get me wrong. I luv it. So much I'm now on methadone everyday. I luv drugs altogether. I luv being out of it. Coke, E, booze, hash. All ace.
But P is something else. When I see that fine crystal all settled in the pipe and were sitting in a group (that group these days mainly just me, Leon, Andrew, Adam, Chris and May.....the only crackheads I know as....sick....as me) and Mays firing up (May thinks shes better than us cos shes the daughter of some prominent asshole in NZ *job of that asshole disclosed or too obvious - even though shes disowned her dad) I'm smiling at everyone benignly.....everyone is.....but u can see the jitters in all of us. I am a mess inside. I'm sweaty, shaky, emotional.......but I keep that patient smile. I'm getting good at this. I don't like looking like a fiending methhead. Who does????
Inside I'm thinking 'come on May - just give it - why do you ALWAYS have to start???' (probably cos she usually provides the gear). My head spins. I no longer want P. I need it.
None of us are true friends deep down. Well we've all been in and out of bed together....but does that constitute friendship? We no longer fuck though. May and Chris are a couple.....when I was living with Leon we had a twisted sort of relationship.....but now our whole groups bond is formed on that elusive creeping vapour drifting out the top of that glass pipe.
Give me a choice between one of the old days with May (during the period both of us were going to NA and were clean apart from the odd drink) where we'd float in her spa then poke fun at her brother while raiding the alcohol cabinet for bollinger, at her dads mansion, then go out shopping and come back to her flat, laden down with CDs and clothes, giggling over boys and gossip and the normal things non-methheads talk about, or give me the other choice of activity that involves my so-called best friend.....and I'd still choose the second choice, even though I'm choosing to do this detox. Half of me wants to recover.....the other is too scared to live life without P again....to leave Mays group behind. Why? I can't answer that!
May isn't my best friend anyway. My best friend lives in another town.....we've never met face-to-face, but shes another BLer. She kind of puts May to shame.
May used to be my best friend until methamphetamine took her over though.
Why do I love methamphetamine? It's actually more like a lover than a best friend tbh. Why? Look at what it's done to me!
I'm recovering from P-induced septicemia.
I'm covered in trackmarks, have bad teeth and an even worse urethra.
Even though I weigh 39kg.
Being an addict is insane. You can love and hate something at the same time. Lose your life over a chemical and still love even it's name.
Meth-am-phet-a-mine.
Just sounds like another stupid chemical eh? To me that word is a lover, a life, a husband, a wife. Sometimes I think it is me!
I forget the psychotic comedowns. What its done to my body. How it still catches me by the ankle and trips me up when I least expect it. How it turns me into an animal. An animal who will do anything for a feed.
The first withdrawals for me are The Crash (where i sleep a long time for me - 1-3 days usually; this time it was 2) then I start to get psychotic. I forget how bad I've got until I notice the holes in my skin where I pick to let the 'bugs' out. I get texts from ppl like Marie/Mum/Katie and it turns out I've bn talking about men with guns watching me.
I usually get sick during withdrawal. My immune system goes to shit (plus I start chain-smoking) and I get colds/flus. Then asthma.
Dad honestly believed I'd never make 25. He actually took out funeral plans for me a long time ago, which breaks my heart. But I made 25 obviously. I am 25. Question is how much longer can I live like this - and live?
See theres one difference I don't share with the rest of the crowd I use with regularly. I inject mainly. Oh I luv to burn. That rush after smoking crack is amazing - but it's not my method of choice.
May and Chris use needles occasionally.....but not like me. Once I'm heavy on the P my pipe becomes a social thing only. Suddenly I'm back. With my lonely ritual. The shaking hand trying to hold the spoon with the puddle of methamphetamine solution, sucking it up through a 3ml barrel with another shaking hand (even looking at meth makes me shake, let alone dealing with it - in fact I've got a permanent tremor from meth use).
When I'm going through a major relapse I stop bothering with filters and even swabs - too much extra work. I'm too busy hungrily attaching that 26g fit (or 27g if I've run out of veins elsewhere and have to go for my groin) to the syringe, flicking impatiently to get rid of any Dreaded Bubbles then tightening the tourniquet with my teeth and sliding in the needle until the fit fills with that heavenly dark-red blood (the symbolism that I'm Ready To Go). At this point my whole body relaxes, i release the tourniquet and push down the plunger.
Meth isnt really a relaxing drug. But shooting crystal relaxes me. Because suddenly I'm filled with power. I'm someone else. I cease to be me. Me - that person I hate. Everything's going to be all right.
Nothings ever felt all right before. Not before crack. Yet nothing's right on it either.
