Lovely huge sharps bin

THE DRUGGIECLINIC have given me an enormous sharps bin for my old heroin needles.

Hopefully it's spacious enough to pack in an entire drawer full of used needles. Blunt. Used and reused. I'm so looking forward to clearing out this crap (not).

As anyone with experience of IV drugs knows, accidental needle-sticks, particularly sudden and violently inflicted ones in the fingertip hurt; reused blunted needles hurt the most. The tiny wounds are irritating and go on and on bleeding.

It's not fun living in a house full of used works. I've had them in my fingers my hands. I've sat on them. More than once I've ended up with a bent 1ml insulin works wobbling out the end of my big toe. Lovely business, innit.

Yesterday I spent hours doing many many things I had to do. I came back after 5pm utterly exhausted, collapsed in a blue velvet armchair (my landlord's good taste, for once!) and was unconscious, just the same as when I used to come back and have a lovely great gloopy hit on the Brown. See I always thought I didn't need Heroin to oversleep. And sleep I did. In this chair, all evening, all night. For hours and hours.

Waking up late this morning. Glugging back the very last of yesterday's methadone then running straight to the chemist for today's.

I always get the methadone collection out of the way as early as I possibly can. Running there in the evening, imagining I've missed closing time was never fun.

Now it's not even remotely funny as there's no substitute anywhere. I'd rather kill myself than take heroin again. Rather die now and get the misery over with. On Monday Paddywhack and I were discussing lovely suicide methods. I was far more flexible in potential methods, pointing out if you want to go it's worth a minute or so of pretty gruesome "discomfort" in order to get drowned, suffocated... whatever. I think Paddywhacks wants a luxury death. Is there even such a thing..?

And no, I'm not really suicidal. I just make really good dinner party conversation!!

OK so it wasn't a dinner party. It was two old junkies knocking back the alcohol in the gloom. We're all on the drink now.

Just before I trundled home replete with Chinese chicken curry mix vegetable fry rice (yummyyumyummmm!!) last night, I bumped into a guy who couldn't even tell me how he knew me. I knew him. He's been in a nasty accident and lost his memory and consequently a huge chunk of his life. His life was a life of severe heroin, crack and drink addiction. But still, he's lost it. He knows he's only half-back now...

... anyway he said the same thing I, and lots of other old people, say. Those "big time" drug dealers have messed up their business more than they know, trying to up prices, imposing a drought. In doing so they've lost many of their longest-standing customers. People who were fed up anyway have finally become fed up enough to stop. People who couldn't trust drug dealers (and who can) lost the tiny bit of trust that remained.

These are people on methadone scripts who were using (sometimes heavily) on top. Now they are happier to spend far, far less on bottles and cans we at least know the content of (unlike the last 2 batches of dodgy heroin I and lots of others got).

I'm being careful not to speak for them. Speaking for myself: I never want to go back. Perhaps some of those others will bide their time and buy the odd bit of brown, if decent Brown ever returns. If it doesn't (and we have years of experience plus a reliable level of methadone to judge against so we're not easily impressed), I don't think these, their longest-standing customers will be flocking back any time soon.

I'm far too old to con myself that me, my actions or attitudes might sway the behaviour of my old friends. But I hope for their sake they keep hold of the tiredness and jadedness and nausea and plain disgust and keep walking. Walking, trudging, stumbling. In the right direction. Away. And towards freedom.

I for one never want anything to do with that nasty drug Heroin ever again.

Never, ever again.

I'm having a bash at answering my multitudinous piles of unanswered emails later on. Wish me luck, please. And please don't be offended if one of those emails if yours. As I say me+email=really crap. Can't explain why but I'm crap at them. Akh. SORRY everyone.

PS WHY did no-one tell me the X-Factor was over? I gazed vaguely at enough of it last Saturday night to see this. REBECCA FERGUSON performing BEAUTIFUL with CHRISTINA AGUILERA. Rebecca only came 2nd against some nobody. With 38% against his 44%. I found this out days later in The Sun newspaper. She's way better than Leona Lewis. And isn't she sweet. Why didn't she win?
And I must point out Rebecca's voice is tired here. If she sounds this good horase imagine how good she sounds normal. Aretha-like. I will post her best up if/when I can find it


 
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