It started at age 18 in my bedroom with three of my friends a needle and a tiny bag of heroin. I remember the belt around my arm tight, my whole body clenched with anticipation. I watched the needle intently as he clumsily found the vien and pushed off the shot. I remember waiting and thinking fuck nothings happ- then bam the most intense feeling of my life took hold I dont remember much else for a few hours I suppose I was hanging with my boys having the time of my life or maybe I was puking in the backyard, who fucking remembers?
I wasnt hooked from the first shot I didnt have good access and I was still having fun with phychadelics. So summer ended and I went off to college. It was a literal and metaphorical change in my life I kinda knew the fun was over. I was either gonna make it or fall flat on my face. At the time success was not a term I was familiar with I went crazy drank all the time took whatever opiates I could find. But it didnt feel like addiction to any one thing ecstacy or xanax were just as satisfying as opiates. School was not a priority I passed a couple classes just on pure intelligence but never took it seriosly.So at the end of my first semester I find heroin again. It started with a few runs to the city to hang out with this girl I knew. She was a full blown junkie and I loved the excitement of rolling to the ghetto 6 deep in my car the anticipation the fear at first I found the lifestyle way more addicting then the drug. But I was still living an hour from the city going to school so it wasnt an everyday thing yet. Well the second semester starts and everything in my life went to hell I lost all the people I thought where my friends. So I came home to Birmingham with a very fatalistic attitude I decided to dive head first into heroin.
This apartment was a shithole. Oh shit this darrel was a trip he got 20,000 dollars when he turned 18 and proceeded to blow it all in like 2 months. But he had his apartment paid for and grandparents to send him money. One of the dumbest people I have ever met in my life he lost 5,000 dollars fronting this black guy he didnt know for coke. Anyway we set up basecamp in his apartment turned it into a strait fucking shooting gallery. Ended up turning quite a few of my friends into junkies. Josh ended up being my partner in crime we had just met when I moved back to the city and started hanging with patrick and darrell. We hit it off fast we shared a similar attitude and personality. The next 4 months are a blur of junky politics and unrelenting crazyness.
Man at first it was all fun and games every run to the city an adventure every poke of the needle a chance to meet divinity chill for awhile then gradually come down go home eat sleep and repeat. Money quickly became a problem so me and josh formed a side fiendship we taxed the shit out of this darrel kid gave him cut up shit whatever we had to do to get ours. This went on for a couple months and physical addiction was creeping in. It was starting to dawn on me that heroin was consuming my life like no other drug ever had. I got scared so I told my parents I had a problem and went to rehab.
I had no idea how bad of a decision that was. I was niave I thought I was gonna go there get the cure then be able to continue on as if nothing happened. Instead I got a bunch of spiritual propaganda. I just cant stomach bullshit or the true believers who spew it. In those two weeks I realized I was fucked I wasnt in deep enough to quit, but I could see the cliff looming. It was too late to hit the brakes so I decided to hit the gas. I made the decision about 5 days into my 16 day stay that it was "farther up and further in" for me. So I made it my mission to meet and exchange numbers with every junkie there. I left with a pretty girl on my arm and a legit connection in my phone.
The next months are a blur of trips to the hood and shooting up in parking lots all over the city. Waiting for hours in the heat sick as shit farting burping feeling like death. Until that magic phone call "Come to the blue house" click. Immediatly refilled with life I would pull out of the parking lot and speed to whatever spot he told me. I also remember the nights laying awake in my room to sick to sleep watching shitty movies on HBO. Praying for a change cursing my hubris just wanting it all to end. .
I wasnt hooked from the first shot I didnt have good access and I was still having fun with phychadelics. So summer ended and I went off to college. It was a literal and metaphorical change in my life I kinda knew the fun was over. I was either gonna make it or fall flat on my face. At the time success was not a term I was familiar with I went crazy drank all the time took whatever opiates I could find. But it didnt feel like addiction to any one thing ecstacy or xanax were just as satisfying as opiates. School was not a priority I passed a couple classes just on pure intelligence but never took it seriosly.So at the end of my first semester I find heroin again. It started with a few runs to the city to hang out with this girl I knew. She was a full blown junkie and I loved the excitement of rolling to the ghetto 6 deep in my car the anticipation the fear at first I found the lifestyle way more addicting then the drug. But I was still living an hour from the city going to school so it wasnt an everyday thing yet. Well the second semester starts and everything in my life went to hell I lost all the people I thought where my friends. So I came home to Birmingham with a very fatalistic attitude I decided to dive head first into heroin.
This apartment was a shithole. Oh shit this darrel was a trip he got 20,000 dollars when he turned 18 and proceeded to blow it all in like 2 months. But he had his apartment paid for and grandparents to send him money. One of the dumbest people I have ever met in my life he lost 5,000 dollars fronting this black guy he didnt know for coke. Anyway we set up basecamp in his apartment turned it into a strait fucking shooting gallery. Ended up turning quite a few of my friends into junkies. Josh ended up being my partner in crime we had just met when I moved back to the city and started hanging with patrick and darrell. We hit it off fast we shared a similar attitude and personality. The next 4 months are a blur of junky politics and unrelenting crazyness.
Man at first it was all fun and games every run to the city an adventure every poke of the needle a chance to meet divinity chill for awhile then gradually come down go home eat sleep and repeat. Money quickly became a problem so me and josh formed a side fiendship we taxed the shit out of this darrel kid gave him cut up shit whatever we had to do to get ours. This went on for a couple months and physical addiction was creeping in. It was starting to dawn on me that heroin was consuming my life like no other drug ever had. I got scared so I told my parents I had a problem and went to rehab.
I had no idea how bad of a decision that was. I was niave I thought I was gonna go there get the cure then be able to continue on as if nothing happened. Instead I got a bunch of spiritual propaganda. I just cant stomach bullshit or the true believers who spew it. In those two weeks I realized I was fucked I wasnt in deep enough to quit, but I could see the cliff looming. It was too late to hit the brakes so I decided to hit the gas. I made the decision about 5 days into my 16 day stay that it was "farther up and further in" for me. So I made it my mission to meet and exchange numbers with every junkie there. I left with a pretty girl on my arm and a legit connection in my phone.
The next months are a blur of trips to the hood and shooting up in parking lots all over the city. Waiting for hours in the heat sick as shit farting burping feeling like death. Until that magic phone call "Come to the blue house" click. Immediatly refilled with life I would pull out of the parking lot and speed to whatever spot he told me. I also remember the nights laying awake in my room to sick to sleep watching shitty movies on HBO. Praying for a change cursing my hubris just wanting it all to end. .
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