One of the Saddest days of my life.
On my 25th birthday, I sat in a bathroom of a house I rented a room out of. That house belonged to a woman I had met at a bar. An old drunk hag that still loved to party. She took to me immediately, probably because I was so frail and sick looking. Her boyfriend would come over and I remember him whispering to me that he knew what i was going through, and if I ever needed some - he could help. Thats how I found my drug dealer when I moved to Mission BC from Calgary to escape the cops, charges and dereliction,. It didn’t work., I was sitting in this bathroom, dope sick from not using in 2 days. But today was my birthday. And my dad had sent me a 100 bucks…My dad always sent me money. He couldnt say no. I think he thought my life circumstances were some how his fault, or that as my dad he had an obligation to look after me, even as an adult heroin addict. I never got to ask him. We never talked about my using til the day he died.
When im dope sick i shake. like physically shake. my hands, my jaw, my legs, everything is revolting. Im nausous, sweaty, in pain and scared. But it was my birthday and I had a hundred bucks so that was all about to change. I poured the small amount of powder into a spoon- in the past i had stared at that small insignificant pile and couldnt believe it controlled my entire life. But today, I couldnt even enjoy the ritual. I just needed it in me. I dripped a few drops of water onto the little mound and watched it melt away into the liquid. I lit the lighter, cooked it quickly and loaded the rig. Theres this very important part of shooting dope called flagging. Its the sign that tells you, youve hit the vein and are good to go. I was no biologist, infact I failed science - but I could hit a vein. I didnt learn till later in life that dehygradation causes your veins to recede - if i had known that i would have drank a lot more water, Unfortunately, today was not that day. I sat in that bathroom for - i actually dont know how long- trying to hit a vein and only suceeding in bleeding all over the place. There was blood on the walls, in the sink, the toilet, floor, my hands, legs, feet. It was everywhere, and I was officially a pin cushion.
I will never forget looking at myself in the mirror, tears streaming down my face, out loud, begging ‘god’ to help me hit a vein so I could feel better. I think I even promised never to do it again. Eventually I stabbed the worn down needle into my forarm muscle and waited for the slow, anticlimactic high to stop the withdrawals.
That was April 27th, 2013- Happy birthday to me. By may, I had been kicked out of that lady’s house for robbing her blind while she was passed out drunk,. I never did get to make amends for that.
