They say you can tell a man by the shoes he wears, or by observing how they live. My mother is taking me to breakfast tomorrow, she walked downstairs as I was doing a morning fix, nothing out of control I managed to hide it, but she wanted to talk "serious". Once again everyone believes I'm strung out on drugs. I guess between the grams of cocaine, heroin, shrooms, 3 benzos, and 5 ecstasy pills I had taken over the past few days they were taking their toll on my appearance. It was to my surprise that it wasn't my physical appearance she was worried about, it was my den in the unfinished basement of my grandparents house.
She said my room is chaotic, making her think I'm also a wreck. Of course I told her not to worry, I wasn't doing any hard drugs. Obviously she didn't believe my as shortly a few hours later my cousin told me she was in tears crying...expressing her worry. I really wish I didn't hurt everyone with my habits. It seems like everyone else can do what they want with their life, but whatever I do with mine effects everyone. Load of buillshit if you ask me. I'm so nervous she will ask to look at my arms and be able to tell the fresh track marks. I just got my fingers crossed.
On a side note I had the living shit scared out of me again with my homie Chuck the other night when we were popping all those pills and banging up coke and horse. One time awhile back he invited me over to his house to get me well when I was sick and we popped a few benzos before doing a few shots. Well...he had done too much and fell out with the needle still in his hand and I had to spend the next few hours trying to keep him awake so he wouldn't die. One of the scariest moments of my life...made me realize how scared my other friend's must have been on the nights I overdosed and they had to take care of me. Basically the same thing happened the other night but he this was the first time he had done heroin in about a month (I still had been on suboxone and doing dope so I was aware of what my tolerance was, also I should have known the shot was too big because of the amount of benzo's he had taken). He fell out...
I had seen him like this before...I had done heroin with Chuck more then anyone I knew. I figured it was just like anyone else nodding out, I had done the same shit many times. But the other guys in the room freaked out causing a seen bitching at me saying how could I call myself a friend because I had almost let me homie die. They took him in the shower and started throwing him around and hitting him trying to get him to wake up. I was too high to really comprehend what was going on, but I knew they were over reacting. I wanted to help my homie, but that wasn't the way. I felt like shouting for them to stop...if anything all they were going to do was knock him out even more.
Finally they got him up and we had to leave right away. It took us three hours to get to his house and finally I got him in the hallway outside his house. I managed to find his keys and take all of his shit in and lock it up. I kept him as awake as I could, and covered him with a blanket before leaving him outside in the hall (he refused to come inside). I left a note on the door telling him to text me as soon as he could...if he wasn't mad at me. I told him I had nothing to do with what happened in the apartment and that I was the one who took care of him after that.
I was glad to hear from him the next morning...he was ok and not mad at me at all. If anything...he said thanks for taking care of him...
She said my room is chaotic, making her think I'm also a wreck. Of course I told her not to worry, I wasn't doing any hard drugs. Obviously she didn't believe my as shortly a few hours later my cousin told me she was in tears crying...expressing her worry. I really wish I didn't hurt everyone with my habits. It seems like everyone else can do what they want with their life, but whatever I do with mine effects everyone. Load of buillshit if you ask me. I'm so nervous she will ask to look at my arms and be able to tell the fresh track marks. I just got my fingers crossed.
On a side note I had the living shit scared out of me again with my homie Chuck the other night when we were popping all those pills and banging up coke and horse. One time awhile back he invited me over to his house to get me well when I was sick and we popped a few benzos before doing a few shots. Well...he had done too much and fell out with the needle still in his hand and I had to spend the next few hours trying to keep him awake so he wouldn't die. One of the scariest moments of my life...made me realize how scared my other friend's must have been on the nights I overdosed and they had to take care of me. Basically the same thing happened the other night but he this was the first time he had done heroin in about a month (I still had been on suboxone and doing dope so I was aware of what my tolerance was, also I should have known the shot was too big because of the amount of benzo's he had taken). He fell out...
I had seen him like this before...I had done heroin with Chuck more then anyone I knew. I figured it was just like anyone else nodding out, I had done the same shit many times. But the other guys in the room freaked out causing a seen bitching at me saying how could I call myself a friend because I had almost let me homie die. They took him in the shower and started throwing him around and hitting him trying to get him to wake up. I was too high to really comprehend what was going on, but I knew they were over reacting. I wanted to help my homie, but that wasn't the way. I felt like shouting for them to stop...if anything all they were going to do was knock him out even more.
Finally they got him up and we had to leave right away. It took us three hours to get to his house and finally I got him in the hallway outside his house. I managed to find his keys and take all of his shit in and lock it up. I kept him as awake as I could, and covered him with a blanket before leaving him outside in the hall (he refused to come inside). I left a note on the door telling him to text me as soon as he could...if he wasn't mad at me. I told him I had nothing to do with what happened in the apartment and that I was the one who took care of him after that.
I was glad to hear from him the next morning...he was ok and not mad at me at all. If anything...he said thanks for taking care of him...