She wrote, or at least co-wrote this.
Please, Sister Morphine, when are you coming round again?
AS TEARS GO BY
It is the evening of the day
I sit and watch the children play
Doing things I used to do
But not with you
I sit and watch as tears go by...
This is a more recent recording, when she truly understood the meaning of those words.
Nothing to watch. Is that the Wailing Wall in Jerusalem?
WELL THIS IS DEPRESSING. I wrote a long post on Things You Can Do In A Crisis, banging on about ways of detoxing, treatments, options, clinics, psych clinics but it goes on and on and sounds preachy, and I don't know if anyone would want to read it. I know I should post it up. It's not meant to be preaching, just a collection of ideas and some phone numbers. I don't know. Don't know. Don't know and do care. The thought of people sick and desperate out there was doing my brainbox in last night. Big time.
{The post is a dog's dinner!}
How long is it now? I have not bothered phoning anyone. Even on Monday/Tuesday/Wednesday/when was it? They texted me. Then the idea gnawed away at me until I phoned. Even then I hesistated saying I'll think about it. Dealer knew exactly what I meant. Could tell by my tone of voice I wasn't too bothered. When I saw him, his phone was going mental. So some comment I left about them making less money, even that's untrue. O how sad. I was hoping sales would go down on crack, but even that's not necessarily true. When I still did it, I wouldn't do crack without "smack". Lots of people would. So these bastards are still making money, out of thin air!
(And things that go blue on foil and things containing all manner of bashed-up God knows what... In the 2002 drought there was stuff called "the oil slick gear". I thought I'd left the old filter in by accident (was v scrupulous like that, back then). Something floating in it. Fished it out. The strong smell of myrrh ~ yes, as in gold, frankincense and... ~ was coming up. This was myrrh resin. And someone had cut multiple kilos with it, because it was all over the country from Birmingham to East Anglia. Someone must have walked into the bourgeois herbalist's and said "gimme some resin man, I need it for me B" and they said "resin? What resin? We have this wonderful myrrh. Look how golden brown it is. Just pestle and mortar it and it'll go down a treat."Yeammon, gimme dat, me gotta lotta B to jump on." Resin in gear. What the..!! Resin makes gear stick in the works. It is not good. If you have to stamp all over it, sugar is safer. Gloopy, but safer.) This paragraph was added later so back to :
CRAVING! Why why why is it eating at me the way it is? I feel like I'm being eaten from the insides out. I took more syrup just now. That might stop me. Might not, but it might just. I thought I felt OK earlier. There is food here. I don't want to eat it. It's not curry. Not Chinese. Spice is what I want. I can't be sick then. Spicy food + dying sick do not go together. Even spicy food + methadone not working full-on = no. I used to have big troubles surrounding gear and food. Hitting up by fridge, tearing into cooked chicken legs like Attila the Hun. Not good. Wasn't thin. Wasn't fat. But could barely eat without gear. That made rehab really difficult. Never known anyone with a problem like that. When heroin and food become intermixed, the person is usually female: girls tend to use gear not to eat. With me it suddenly gave din-dins 10 times more savour. (Never worked with sweets.) It took a long time to get round that one.
Is it normal to feel so torn? When I decide to do it (something non-sobriety-related, it has to be) I still have the gumption to do anything I really want to. If someone crosses me I will let hell freeze over before I give in or let them get the better of me again. (I am thinking in particular of my former druggieworker, Maple Syrup. I called her this bc I could never remember her name. Loathed the bitch, and sacked her. But it took a whole year for open hostilities to develop.) She thought I was weak-willed and could get the better of me. Really didn't know me.
I have heard of people testing opiate-negative (comments on this blog). If this is so, you are clean and free and very fortunate. I know it doesn't always feel like that, but it's true.
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I have also heard there is a huge premium on Subutex on the street. I have never heard of people buying Subutex. I would have quite liked some at one time... But that's another story. My own involvement with Subutex was not pretty. Took it. Thought I was doing really well. Everyone thought I was doing really well. (Makes you feel clean.) Decided to cheat, hitting up gear in a bush. It was in a remote corner of a park, where no-one would have found me for a long time if I'd died. I did this a few times, waking each time about 4 hours later, cross eyes, barely able to walk in a straight line. Then I hit up where I was staying. BANG! Down like a felled tree. Straight down. Straight Girl went nuts. Not pretty, not at all. I had been overdosing every day. Or at least a borderline overdose. Maybe in that bush, an angel was giving me artificial respiration. The gear and the doses were the same on each occasion. As was the 4-hour unconsciousness, followed by extreme bleariness. On me, Subutex kicked most of my habit off my brain, so I could take a third of a ten pound bag and be happy. On two thirds was out of my tree, even a fortnight later. I don't know if I'm unusually sensitive to it, but anyone on the buprenorphine, be careful! Anyone testing opiate-clean, be ultra careful! If you really are opiate clean, just remember this is hard-won. How far back do you really want to go? See preaching again.Well I have garbled on enough now. I'm off! Take care everyone.
The HEROIN DROUGHT POST with all the news in the comments is here.
