When I arise to the morning sun, I immediately prepare my morning fix. I check my message to see who called in the late hours of the night. If I am running low, I’ll make a run to Philly to make sure I have enough to last a few days.  The rest of the day I’ll enjoy by doing nothing. I just enjoy my high. This is considered a good day for a heroin addict. Everything is alright as long as I have money and heroin, although the bad days are a completely different story. When I do not have money or heroin, the only thing I’m concerned about is getting more heroin so I can function that day. If I run out, I’m facing a nightmare that seems like an eternity. My body would hurt all over and every pore would crave the chemical. I would become so weak I would barely be able to crawl on the floor. This sick feeling is hard to describe. It feels like the worst case of the flu times ten. If it gets real bad and many times it does, I would begin substituting with any drug that would relax me. I would rummage through my mother’s medicine cabinets, looking for sleeping pills, muscle relaxers or pain killers, anything that would help me! I would go through every drawer in my house or anyone’s house looking for anything of value I could sell. I would call everyone I knew, family, friends concocting reasons to borrow money from them.  I’d make up any story.  I’d say anything just to get my hands on some money for a fix. Some days I was successful and could get enough money to buy my stuff to hold me over. If I couldn’t, I had to face the physical discomfort, nausea, the pain, diarrhea, the misery and every minute felt like an hour and it would last for three days. I would lay in the bed twitching and kick all over. Sometimes I’d hurt so had I scream and hit the walls. My anxiety was so fierce I could not watch tv, read or do anything to try to take my mind off what I was going through. I would experience every negative feeling that the human body is capable of experiencing and nothing could take my mind away from this dreadful experience. I would tell myself “I will never go through this again”, but as soon as it was over, I’d go through it all over again and again. I can’t stop it. I’m hooked, I’m an addict! I don’t wanna be, I just am!

I’m full of sweat, and in intense pain all over my body. I’m afraid to move because the more I move the more it hurts that I can’t stop moving though because I’m anxious. The only thing on my mind is how I can locate more drugs to feel alright again. My entire day revolves around the need for more heroin. I can’t go to sleep comfortably if I don’t have enough store for the next morning.  If I’m out of money,  I think of how I can get money. I would steal credit cards from friends and people, anyone that had available cash. I’d break into houses and steal anything of value. I’d steal whatever I could get my hands on in order to bring in a few dollars at the pawn shop. The lowest thing I’ve ever done to support my habit was to get younger kids addicted to heroin. You are probably wondering how can anyone stoop to something so low? Well, all I have to do is justify myself by saying I’m doing them a service. All you have to do is justify what you’re doing. It’s easy to come up with a reason if you think of one. I would drive to Philly every day and buy about 50 bags at $10 dollars a bag ad sell them for $20 dollars. It doesn’t matter who you hurt by stealing, lying or manipulating. You lose interest in everything that used to be fun, especially people, like my family that I used to care about. I only see them for how I can use them. I would constantly borrow money from my mother and I’d get angry if she said no. I might even get physical with her. What am I supposed to do…. go through another withdrawal? I ain’t going through those. Those things are death. Just let me have the money to get my fix. I have to have it! You can never satisfy this craving. It controls every aspect of your life. You’re probably wondering why would anyone want to put themselves through such a harsh ordeal? It’s just the way it goes, that’s all. It’s just the way it goes!
It becomes a dreadful game played on the streets of constantly putting yourself in life threatening situations. You have no fear of death. You might instigate a fight or just jump in the middle of one where bullets are flying. There’s no fear of death or you might actually hope for an overdose instead of existing in this miserable state of being. Death is more appealing when you are stuck in this downward spiral that keeps taking you lower and lower. Everything in your life falls apart and every day is worse than the day before. Drug addiction! It has to be the only disease that calls you by your name and it doesn’t allow you to suppress it. When you are clean and faced with a normal problem you are always tempted to escape normal problems with chemicals, so basically it’s something you are always faced with. You can only stop the problem when you accept that it is a problem. Only then can you begin recovering and begin your life again.


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