At any time I mentioned cessation, like a junky, I was full of shit. Dear sweet mother of fuck, not only was I lying to myself, but I was also blogging bullshit on the Internet too. I couldn’t tell you the last time I’ve gone 48 hours without a fix, I assume it was before I started this, my latest “binge”, back on November. I’m once again making an honest effort to quit, but this time, if I don’t do it, I’m going to the fucking methadone clinic and getting on suboxone.
Here in Canada you can’t just get a prescription for a suboxone taper. No, like methadone, you have to spend months receiving “witnessed doses” before they “gain your trust” and then you’re allowed small amounts of “caries”. Jesus fucking Christ I could write an essay about the senseless of that alone. Gain their trust….!? You have no other option but to take the witnessed dose, but after a while, then they trust you!? You can’t possibly even fuck up tho… For fuck sakes. I almost wonder if they just want to make sure, that by taking it for a couple months, you are now certainly totally fucking dependant on their drugs (subs or done) and will then be much less likely/able to handle selling it. In August I went on subs for like… 2 maybe 3 days, and thought of it to be a miracle drug, but after reading much on the difficulty of kicking that I decided to just stop, and stayed clean for weeks, likely the longest I ever was since I first shot up, last spring.
Anyway, I’m doing another stupid, painful heroin taper, only for a couple days here, last hit being tomorrow. So as is, this is my last bag, I’m cleaning up all my fucking pins, flaps. My back pack, my car, my bedroom, fuck, anywhere I might use a pin there’s likely at least ten old ones hiding somewhere.
So I took a picture of where I was waiting to pick up. Hopefully successful, I was to remember all this. A pic of my last bag, a pic of my last “hit that I do on my car extremely shortly after scoring”, a pic of my pins, my flaps, my track marks. Blaaaah
I call them “junky breakfast” and “junky holidays”. My works staff party is tonight, I’ve had about one or two hours of sleep. Me and this Mrs. were up doing speedballs and having sex all night. This binge has to end now, time to clean up for the holidays. Got a hair cut, shaved, gonna suffer withdrawal all weekend, gotta make my family, friends, and coworkers think I’m doing well. Me and my girl are doing great, I’m stoked to be clean with her.
What the fuck is wrong with you, when after an injection you’ve already got your phone set, with 911 dialled, just have to click go, just in case something goes wrong…
So far, it’s not so bad. I cracked on Saturday night out of pain and boredom and grabbed that usual “hundred dollar combo” rendering me a few points of d, and a half of coke. Last night I took a hit from my friends bong, I never smoke pot. Took a seroquel, melatonin, watched cartoons and let the combination of downers/sleep aids do their thing. It worked well, I slept great, from 10:30-6:30, and off to work. There was one last, pitiful “emergency hit” left that I also took around 9:30, which had no noticeable effect, and my back still hurt, but I’m sure it helped me get through the night.
So technically yeah, I’ve only been clean 12 hours, and for me it’s always the worst at 24-48, but I haven’t really gotten high for nearly 30 hours. I don’t know, maybe I’m just blindly hoping for the best here but so far it’s just back pain. Itching to do drugs, yes, but no eye watering, nose running, skin feeling like shit, sweating, hot cold, shit your pants withdrawal so far.
I hate how exercise is always so highly recommended. You think about running and working out, taking a bunch of vitamins, and hitting up a sauna. I’ve never managed to get off the couch or out of bed and all that ever does is make my back seem to hurt more/make me feel like more of a useless piece of shit.
I gotta do this. For Krystina even more so than myself. I love her so much, so much so that I need to leave her, just to stop polluting her life with my own habits. If you really love something you have to let it go type of shit. I need to get my shit strait, to be an example for her, so we can be healthy, and happy, and she can have security for once in her fucked up life. I love her. I can do this.
Fuck I’d like some oxycodone today tho. Hah, everyone always says you’re just putting it off but quite frankly, when over 100mg of oxy doesn’t even get you high, popping the odd 40 to make the worst days not as painful has no harm in my mind. Not when you don’t have a pill problem anyway, not when your drug of choice is not only heroin, but has to be a speed ball to even be worth it in your mind. I ended this on a shitty note, I should have left it at “I love her. I can do this”