Time for a wash, and to get myself clean?

So, he we are again. I've don the months money on gear, and having a good time. I've no money left, and I don't want to borrow. Times are tough, I'm rattling like a motherfucker (although thank God for my MSTs, which I take at 4 times the prescribed dose. It's reached the point that I always knew would arrive; I've got a problem.

So; no drugs for the next few weeks. I'm skint, so they have to stop. I'm also getting grief for using morphine at work, so maybe I should taper down.

Is an opiate free life desirable? Do I want that?

There are pluses to it; no more hiding my arms, no more long sleeves, no more having works stashed about the place, no more worry about being pulled over, no more inappropriate nodding out, no frustration, no having to fuck about and meet idiot runners, loads more money.

The downside; no gear, no needles, no hustling, no excitement.

When it comes down to it, this was only supposed to be a passing thing; I only wanted to try the needle (but I love getting a shot in, my veins are hard work, so I always feel a sense of achievement), and before that I only wanted to have the odd smoke.

My habit has been rocketing (I've had a load of money recently), and I'm frightened of going cold. I'm not keen on a meth script, so I need to maintain and taper my MST use; do I have the discipline? Today, not so far!

I've always known I'd have to stop this at some point; it can't be for life. It's a bit of fun. But it's escalating and the signs are clear for anyone to read, even me. I've used daily for 3 years. Every day, more or less, and I've had no problems or financial issues. Now, this month, things are different. I always said at this point I'd have to man up and stop it, I have too much to lose in abandoning myself to drugs.

Also, and this is maybe a big prompt for me; I'm in touch with old friends a lot. I look at their lives, and they're better than mine. There's still drink and drugs involved, but they have their own companies, or are seniors in big organisations, or have porsches, or are in the US or Oz, they've lived the life I wanted and could have had; still going to festivals, having more stuff, having money available all the time; I've knocked myself to the kerb with my drug use; financially ruined myself (I have debts approaching £50k that I've just ignored, although they'll be simple enough to clear on my income), and maybe, just maybe, although I'm content enough as I am, and I can argue my position well with anyone, maybe there's more to life than this; maybe I should get rid of this monkey (who now steals from my legitimate life, dipping into family time and money), maybe I should start trying to achieve.

My friends kept drugs and partying in balance, and on the side. I let them dominate my life, ruin my education and finances, and then dropped that habit, said I was cured, and moved onto the next DOC...

I want financial independence, more kids, and I want freedom. I don't really drink, or socialise; I can feel myself becoming socially awkward as my interaction with idiots becomes more common; I find myself bonding with fools, while despising them. This ain't good.

I've always been insecure (which is maybe why I'm so driven to succeed), I 've often been a little awkward socially; drugs have pulled me off track. I loathe crack, and don't like coke (although I had a few lines for the first time in years, on Friday. It was fucking shit, not like what I used to sell. A proper disappointment).

I'v always tied my identity up with drugs; partier, then raver, then promoter, then dealer (and I'm talking turining over, on a decent week, 4 kilos of skunk, 2000 E pills, 500 acid trips, half a bar of coke {4.5oz, 126g} and a few ounces of ketamine), then ex-dealer, then coke and crack addict, the rehab, and clean, then heroin chipper, then functional addict, then being here, balancing on the edge.

I wish more than anything, I'd had the drive, or could have been bothered, to put this to one side; do it, enjoy it and not let it dominate me; Iwas fine until I moved into coke.

Still, I'm not apologetic; I'm not ashamed (although a little embarrassed), I sure as hell do not blame drugs.

Every bad decision has been mine. I have been educated, and counselled others as a University Senior, and my eyes have been open. My life, my fuck ups, my disasters are my own. I control my addictions, they do not control me. I have been weak willed, and maybe focussed on the wrong things. I do not accept that I am powerless, and I reject, with every fibre of my being, that I need the help of a Higher Power, or God. I will not excuse my behaviour by blaming the drugs; I will not absolve responsibility to an imaginary conceit. I am responsible for my actions, both good and bad.

Thing is, saying goodbye to heroin, well, that's like saying goodbye to a good friend with whom you have had a close, deep and true friendship with, but that has soured through minor betrayals and arguments. Something you'll miss, that you'll think of often, a relationship you'll revisit, reliving and replotting former events, mentally making tiny alterations to your history that allow the two of you to carry on living together as friends, like before, like you both wanted.

Other drugs are different; I hate coke and crack. My time for e and hallucinogens has passed, sad to say, I like a drink, but not to get pissed. These things are all just substances; theycan come and go, and I don't care. Heroin though, I see as a friend, not just a brown powder that has no intrinsic value. I also fear the anger and hate of a rejected friend that knows your weak spots and has vicious tendencies – the withdrawal.

While I'm at it, I should mention another reason for giving up. I tend to use with Shelley, one of my closest friends, and the girlfriend of my friend, Mickey. Mickey's away right now and I have a duty towards Shelley. She's pregnant, and has slowed herself down to just her meth script, with a bit on top. Using when pregnant isn't right; for her, the baby or Mickey, so I'm coming off in sympathy with her.

The time's right for a change. My heroin adventures were fun, and I've enjoyed being a tourist in some deep dark places. These places weren't fun when I had no choice, back in my homeless crackhead days, but I've enjoyed them and the characters, while always having an out, and a route back to my life. The two worlds are gradually meshing though, and it's time to end the schizophrenia.

Now, if I can just find my works for one last hit...

(joke)