Updated: Oct 14, 2020
Insights Into an Addict’s Mind
My writing is usually based around the state of mind of the addict. I’m probably not smashing down idea walls and planting my flag in bold new territory…but I can offer an insight into my world which is sometimes painfully funny in a gallows humour sort of way.
Love and Hate: Sometimes Interchangeable
I love crack.
But I’m scared of it as well.
I really hope I’m not marginalizing myself in respect to what I could offer in terms of reporting from the front lines of addiction with that statement but I just thought: “F*ck it, Glenn. Say something.”
I get scared before I take it. I mean the “stomach of butterflies effect”. I’m scared all the way to meeting the guy who’s going to take my un-earned money (I’m on the great British benefit system for being an addict, believe it or not) and then all the way home to where I’ve got an almost shrine like setup of spoon (already with a sprinkling of VIT C in the middle), needle (already filled with tap water) and – I kid you not – a lit candle.
I have it all waiting.
The only things missing from this shrine are flowers, arranged around a picture of a big, yellowish rock. I shit myself all the way through the ritual, which I won’t describe in case of triggering anyone who’s fighting the urge to use the stuff, until I find the vein and pull back and get that beautiful jet of red shooting into the barrel of clear liquid. Hmmm… and I’m worrying about triggers.
Then I could almost pause and savour the anticipation…
But I don’t, and then, WOOF! All the fear has gone and all I can think about is how long to wait before (if I’ve bought enough) another shot or (if I’ve still somehow got money left) to go and buy more.
None of this is a new concept to any of you fellow addicts, I imagine.
So, What Am I Scared Of?
I’m scared of the fact that I love the stuff. It’s such a weird state of mind to love something that has absolutely terrible consequences for me.
Maybe “love” is the wrong word?
In fact, it definitely is!
Or it should be.
Or might not be?
…as you can see I’m a very mixed up chap.
I’ve just put the bins out and started worrying about landfill levels and a load of other things that, as a guy who hasn’t even been employable for the past five years, should really leave to people in higher up positions. Another example of my thought prioritization skills.
“Should I Do This?” Moments
When you are about to score, or think about scoring and you get that “Should I Do This?” – referred to from now on as a “S H I D T” moment…and you stop for a bit and think… … … … …(what are you waiting for? I’m not going to tell you what to think. That’s the whole point of this piece.) So you’ve (hopefully) thought for a bit… And then, even after and during the thinking bit, you’ve acknowledged that what you’re about to do has almost no upside… you quash it with something I call quashing.
It’s a technical term.
Look it up.
I’m not talking about acting on the nerves of someone in withdrawal. I could well have stuck £20 in my arm an hour ago and still get back to this feeling. In fact, I’ve just done it, which is why I’m writing this to intersperse the pull of the addict brain with moments of distraction.
You see, I’m on a Subutex prescription and I’ve had my dose this morning at the pharmacy with a nice lady checking under my tongue to make sure I don’t want to collect soggy tablets at home.
As a result of this, opiates are off the table today. I mean I could go and buy and cook and inject some of that stuff but it would be an utter waste of time, money, and energy (although I seem to have more of that last one, since dropping the gear from my diet).
What’re my other selections of choice? Well I could do some crack but that’s a nightmare without something to come down with afterwards (IE opiates or other nerve suppressants). Drink? That’s the one I had the SHIDT moment about, just now.
I was just about to open the door to go to the off license (liquor store to you USA types) and grab myself some cheap, strong booze. What happened is that I got the SHIDT’s and quashed it but that’s partly because I’ve now made it my terrible responsibility to report all these happenings to the recovering public.
Distractions And Excuses
I’m almost sure it’s more of a needle fixation problem on my part. Or it could be that I have too much energy and nervousness when not using (despite just using). I could go and do some exercise but <INSERT EXCUSE HERE>. I’m sure a good run would do wonders or even dance the running man on the spot for 3 minutes but <INSERT ANOTHER EXCUSE HERE> so, you know, I can’t.
I need an ISHDT (or “I Should Do This”) moment instead…