charlie clean
Bluelighter
I'm 60. My life went down the toilet as a result of criminalised narcotic addiction but, at 38, I 'qualified' under UK treatment guidelines for a diamorphine 'script'. I've prospered ever since.
This time last year, the future was rosy. I'd discharged some longterm personal responsibilities and reunited with 'successful' old friends who thought I'd died twenty years ago. They provided cautious backing for a new personal project and I looked forward to a new challenge.
I certainly got one, but it was very different to what I'd planned. On election eve, our new, 'charity corporation' drug service provider (dsp) announced times were tough, we were all in this together and all 27 'injectable' prescriptions in the county ( Cambridgeshire )were to be discontinued 'on cost grounds'. There would be no exceptions and no right of appeal; we could, however, write to the 'business manager' who'd made the announcement.
I wasn't the only one to whom this 'blanket' removal made no sense. There were eight on diamorphine and nineteen on injectable methadone prescriptions in the county. The six known diamorphs had accumulated 45 criminal convictions between them before they were given their scripts; in the average 20 years since, zero. Lives had been repaired, we were posterchildren for 'harm reduction' maintenance. We'd all suffered dreadfully adverse reactions to methadone and other treatment options and did not believe that, after a little 'upset', we'd be 'grateful' to lose the very medication that kept us together.
Online research and enquiry revealed some disturbing lies on the part of the dsp. After intial sceptism, local DAAT (drug&alcohol treatment) and NTA ( national treatment agency) reps finally met face-to-face with complainants in August - they'd been told we were all 'very happy' with the new policy and were shocked to hear our side of the story. '2nd psychiatric opinions' from experienced clincians were arranged and the dsp informed there were to be no further script 'reductions' until these were given, which was expected to be 'within 2 or 3 weeks'.
From thereonin, things turned rather nasty. New complainants and numerous, unexplained logistical problems delayed the arrival of the '2nds'. There was no return of the average 25% of their scripts already removed from addicts. Those perceived as 'ringleaders' of the dissent enjoyed some pretty individualised treatment. The dsp scrambled to find justifiable 'medical reasons' for their decision and 'users' complained it effectively created problems for them to 'prove' they had a problem in the first place. Some were obliged to turn to street drugs again, with predictable results. If they told the dsp, they faced 'punishment' for not sticking to their scripts; if they didn't they were fine with lower dosages. A formal query at Christmas brought the response that it was not safe to return addicts to their regular dosage as their 'tolerances' were down'. What to us was a serious matter seemed to be a game to the dsp, a corporate contest they were out to 'win', like battling with rival providers when new contracts came up for tender. Vulnerable men and women of fragile mental ecologies were treated to tactics more appropriate to corporate raiders. An incomplete history of the affair may be found on the general discussion forum at www.m-alliance.org.uk.
The 2nd opinions finally arrive to see us next week. For some, it's too late - one guy died in hospital from complications following a septicemia from shooting up bad brown. Others complain of near clinical depression from dsp bullying and the constant stress of getting by with an axe poised above their necks; some report dsp crowing they'll ignore unfavourable (to them) 2nd opinions and all believe their lives diminshed since May.
Britsh Drug Treatment, once the envy of the world, is in a sorry mess, the sick man of Europe. Since the privatisation of treatment, four charity corps have taken over 70% of cachement areas. Finding the difference between them is like distinguishing Christian fundamentalists; all are abstentionist opiophobes who see drug treatment as a control problem. the social policing of moral defectives. They pay less than the NHS, allow all kinds of inferior types the legitamacy of health service professionals after 12 weeks training, and underbid rivals in the usual corporation way, a concentration on appearance over substance. In absence of checks and balances or any form of 'union lobby', their version is the only one heard. Government policy is effectively determined by their reports. Consequently, vast sums are now spent on detox, rehabs and counselling - exactly the same percentage achieve lasting abstinence as did in times of diy. If you think about it, it's pretty obvious there would be.
But nobody's thinking. The money's so good. Boomtime for the 'help' industries, hard times for 300,000 UK heroin self-medicators. Reason has gone out of the window, replaced by a dubious presumption of addict as criminal or retard, less patient than parolee. Younger addicts have known no different, accept pissing into a beaker and being treated as a naughty boy by spurious middle-class dogooders wanting to think well of themselves, or of being at the mercy of the kind of bully found from playground to killing fields. Consultants who know nothing of their subject, who are unable even to distinguish among different 'drugs', are commonplace - obedience to company dictates is the principal obligation of employment. Righteousness is confused with drug abstinence, getting 'clean' - even words are corporate-spun to mean the opposite of their dictionary definitons. 'Users' have precious little options other than to adapt, to get used to it.
I'm not used to it. I'm not animated waste. I'm a 60 year old, law-abiding British citizen. Until this bloody nonsense started, my circle of freinds and acquaintances included only two other 'drug addicts' - an intelligent prescribing policy had allowed me to live with my dependency much like an insulin addict, to divorce from other drugs and the 'drug scene'. Now, drug treatment ( having finalised its divorce from the 'drug problem'! ) would make my life reolve around the pharmacy line. And of course them. These terrible people want to control my life, to 'help' me by making me like them - they project their own unresolved 'ego-conflicts' onto me, the addiction object. If I protest, my ingratitude to help shows I need more help, to be 'monitored' further. They must 'win' - they'll stand over my grave and piously lament they couldn't have helped me earlier. Why? Is it for the money? Or the drugs?
I'm not the kind of person who usually namedrops, but earlier in my life I ran into people like Ronnie Laing, Joseph Campbell and Viktor Frankl. A helpful young CBT counsellor isn't going to do much for me, except maybe encourage me to help with their problems. Like many another addict, I also bumped into Burroughs a couple of times. He'd have said this is the whole point - the drug addict now exists for the benefit of drug treatment. In effect, they turn you into what you're supposed to be, junk people. Bill would've said everybody's got it back to front, its the Benways of the dsp who're the junkies.
It shouldn't be this way but for nine months my life, like others in Cambridge, has been on hold, treading water, trying not sink under the weight. Why do we feel so alone? A quick scan of this site reveals addicts still dying daily, needlessly - would a diamorphine prescription have saved those ives, maybe turned them around as it did with mine? Are addicts resigned to their lowly status, pathetically grateful for a few mls of methadone linctus under supervised consumption? ( another 'earner' at their expense.) Are they incapable of finding a united voice? Are they happy to be criminals? Do they think they deserve the stigma? Why is nobody asking why?
The pressure's on here, we're all bruised and battered by the events of the ast nine months. As indeed are 300,000 UK victims of drug treatment insanity. Does anybody have any ideas?
This time last year, the future was rosy. I'd discharged some longterm personal responsibilities and reunited with 'successful' old friends who thought I'd died twenty years ago. They provided cautious backing for a new personal project and I looked forward to a new challenge.
I certainly got one, but it was very different to what I'd planned. On election eve, our new, 'charity corporation' drug service provider (dsp) announced times were tough, we were all in this together and all 27 'injectable' prescriptions in the county ( Cambridgeshire )were to be discontinued 'on cost grounds'. There would be no exceptions and no right of appeal; we could, however, write to the 'business manager' who'd made the announcement.
I wasn't the only one to whom this 'blanket' removal made no sense. There were eight on diamorphine and nineteen on injectable methadone prescriptions in the county. The six known diamorphs had accumulated 45 criminal convictions between them before they were given their scripts; in the average 20 years since, zero. Lives had been repaired, we were posterchildren for 'harm reduction' maintenance. We'd all suffered dreadfully adverse reactions to methadone and other treatment options and did not believe that, after a little 'upset', we'd be 'grateful' to lose the very medication that kept us together.
Online research and enquiry revealed some disturbing lies on the part of the dsp. After intial sceptism, local DAAT (drug&alcohol treatment) and NTA ( national treatment agency) reps finally met face-to-face with complainants in August - they'd been told we were all 'very happy' with the new policy and were shocked to hear our side of the story. '2nd psychiatric opinions' from experienced clincians were arranged and the dsp informed there were to be no further script 'reductions' until these were given, which was expected to be 'within 2 or 3 weeks'.
From thereonin, things turned rather nasty. New complainants and numerous, unexplained logistical problems delayed the arrival of the '2nds'. There was no return of the average 25% of their scripts already removed from addicts. Those perceived as 'ringleaders' of the dissent enjoyed some pretty individualised treatment. The dsp scrambled to find justifiable 'medical reasons' for their decision and 'users' complained it effectively created problems for them to 'prove' they had a problem in the first place. Some were obliged to turn to street drugs again, with predictable results. If they told the dsp, they faced 'punishment' for not sticking to their scripts; if they didn't they were fine with lower dosages. A formal query at Christmas brought the response that it was not safe to return addicts to their regular dosage as their 'tolerances' were down'. What to us was a serious matter seemed to be a game to the dsp, a corporate contest they were out to 'win', like battling with rival providers when new contracts came up for tender. Vulnerable men and women of fragile mental ecologies were treated to tactics more appropriate to corporate raiders. An incomplete history of the affair may be found on the general discussion forum at www.m-alliance.org.uk.
The 2nd opinions finally arrive to see us next week. For some, it's too late - one guy died in hospital from complications following a septicemia from shooting up bad brown. Others complain of near clinical depression from dsp bullying and the constant stress of getting by with an axe poised above their necks; some report dsp crowing they'll ignore unfavourable (to them) 2nd opinions and all believe their lives diminshed since May.
Britsh Drug Treatment, once the envy of the world, is in a sorry mess, the sick man of Europe. Since the privatisation of treatment, four charity corps have taken over 70% of cachement areas. Finding the difference between them is like distinguishing Christian fundamentalists; all are abstentionist opiophobes who see drug treatment as a control problem. the social policing of moral defectives. They pay less than the NHS, allow all kinds of inferior types the legitamacy of health service professionals after 12 weeks training, and underbid rivals in the usual corporation way, a concentration on appearance over substance. In absence of checks and balances or any form of 'union lobby', their version is the only one heard. Government policy is effectively determined by their reports. Consequently, vast sums are now spent on detox, rehabs and counselling - exactly the same percentage achieve lasting abstinence as did in times of diy. If you think about it, it's pretty obvious there would be.
But nobody's thinking. The money's so good. Boomtime for the 'help' industries, hard times for 300,000 UK heroin self-medicators. Reason has gone out of the window, replaced by a dubious presumption of addict as criminal or retard, less patient than parolee. Younger addicts have known no different, accept pissing into a beaker and being treated as a naughty boy by spurious middle-class dogooders wanting to think well of themselves, or of being at the mercy of the kind of bully found from playground to killing fields. Consultants who know nothing of their subject, who are unable even to distinguish among different 'drugs', are commonplace - obedience to company dictates is the principal obligation of employment. Righteousness is confused with drug abstinence, getting 'clean' - even words are corporate-spun to mean the opposite of their dictionary definitons. 'Users' have precious little options other than to adapt, to get used to it.
I'm not used to it. I'm not animated waste. I'm a 60 year old, law-abiding British citizen. Until this bloody nonsense started, my circle of freinds and acquaintances included only two other 'drug addicts' - an intelligent prescribing policy had allowed me to live with my dependency much like an insulin addict, to divorce from other drugs and the 'drug scene'. Now, drug treatment ( having finalised its divorce from the 'drug problem'! ) would make my life reolve around the pharmacy line. And of course them. These terrible people want to control my life, to 'help' me by making me like them - they project their own unresolved 'ego-conflicts' onto me, the addiction object. If I protest, my ingratitude to help shows I need more help, to be 'monitored' further. They must 'win' - they'll stand over my grave and piously lament they couldn't have helped me earlier. Why? Is it for the money? Or the drugs?
I'm not the kind of person who usually namedrops, but earlier in my life I ran into people like Ronnie Laing, Joseph Campbell and Viktor Frankl. A helpful young CBT counsellor isn't going to do much for me, except maybe encourage me to help with their problems. Like many another addict, I also bumped into Burroughs a couple of times. He'd have said this is the whole point - the drug addict now exists for the benefit of drug treatment. In effect, they turn you into what you're supposed to be, junk people. Bill would've said everybody's got it back to front, its the Benways of the dsp who're the junkies.
It shouldn't be this way but for nine months my life, like others in Cambridge, has been on hold, treading water, trying not sink under the weight. Why do we feel so alone? A quick scan of this site reveals addicts still dying daily, needlessly - would a diamorphine prescription have saved those ives, maybe turned them around as it did with mine? Are addicts resigned to their lowly status, pathetically grateful for a few mls of methadone linctus under supervised consumption? ( another 'earner' at their expense.) Are they incapable of finding a united voice? Are they happy to be criminals? Do they think they deserve the stigma? Why is nobody asking why?
The pressure's on here, we're all bruised and battered by the events of the ast nine months. As indeed are 300,000 UK victims of drug treatment insanity. Does anybody have any ideas?
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