Im 24 year old now but my intro to the drug life began at 16 with G. I smoked it for 2 years straight running around, smoking, hustling, scamming, smoking, cleaning my apartment, smoking more and seeing shadow people just about everyday since I maybe slept 3 days total in a months time. I got clean at 18 (by clean I mean smoking bud and Thizzin here and there) A year later I shot up heroin and never looked back (had smoked it 1 time at 17 and it was so disgusting) .
Naturally the homie was against gettin7g me hooked on the needle, but I refused to smoke it and demanded that if he didn’t shoot me up I was just gonna do it my damn self and possibly die since I had no idea what to do and just guilt tripped him so bad that I gave him no choice.
Now 5 years, thousands and thousands and thousands of dollars, and a lengthy prison stay (in comparison to my young life) later I am on Methadone and have been for 4 months now.
Heroin has her cold hard grip on a part of my soul and I want it back. But let me tell you, this bitch is ruthless- as anyone that shares my love for the sweet sweet numbness and total lack of emotions that she provides is very familiar with. It’s not being dope sick that I cant take, I can do that cold turkey, dying on the couch at home, time and time again because it will always be better than doing it on the concrete floor of a 10×10 freezing, smelly, dirty cell with 45 women packed in, watching you, asking what’s wrong with you non-stop, their idiotic comments / questions such as “why would you wanna do that if it makes you sick like that?” and your bitchy reply of “so when I am around stupid bitches like you, I am relaxed enough that I don’t wanna slit my fucking throat!”
Anyways fighting a dumb fat bitch while dopesick in a tiny cell doesn’t scare me but once was enough and I choose to withstand the misery in my own home where I am free to smoke like a chimney and vomit without comment. The problem is: I only feel normal when I am doing some kind of drug. Normal is not “Normal” for this girl. Its as if something is always missing.
For now the mathadone really helps by giving me the feeling that I am still doing something, I also do G here and there…its kinda like a “lesser of two evils thing” for me because as long as I don’t dance with that black, enveloping and seductive whore I keep my little life functioning and with continued improvement.
ALAS, THE ADVICE I SEEK IS: how will I ever get off of methadone and not go back to heroin? Its always the insomnia and waking up drenched in sweat weeks after detoxing that breaks me, the horror of knowing I will never pull back that plunger and see it register, making my heart race a little in anticipation of the rush Im about to feel (btw I speedball w/coke).
I feel as though this will never end and in order to keep my little life Im rebuilding I will have to stay on methadone forever because relapsing is “my thing” I swear!
I have had good chunks of clean time, after prison I honestly believed in my heart that I was done so my faith in my own recovery is virtually nonexistent. If methadone worked for you I would love hear your story and any words of wisdom you have for me. Sorry so long but I feel as though background and an idea of just how much I adore the feeling heroin brings me and how I despise who it makes me was neccessary.
Thanks!
Jax
