A $28 shot. The scourge of the dealer, the fussy junkie who doesn't want a $50, doesn't want a $25, but something in between. But I managed to avoid troubling said supplier, as instead I blatted a 60:40 split with the Tart, in a $70 bag. And impressed upon Sly that I wanted a real $70, not a century with a 30% discount. Her 60%, which was just over a $40 bag, still knocked her for six. The purity has its appeal.
Using could be seen as a failure after close to four days clean, so I moderated it with a reduced shot. Is that not the very essence of compromise ameliorated with a dash of self-deception?
It's hard to put down on paper the damage to the soul from breaking a four day clean run. I'd just gotten over the worst of the sleep loss, I had about seven hours last night and I didn't touch my metro takeaway until I'd been at work an hour (as compared to starting to drink it at 5 am, as I was doing two days ago). Even the black thoughts had reduced in volume. Belts and knives were not constant sources of fascination any more. It's amazing how much improvement you can get in a couple of days. So when you use it's like being on a life raft getting carried past an island that would save you, but not being able to do anything about it. Is it better to never see that island at all, to think that there is nothing but the toiling endless sea carrying you nowhere at a steady flow?
I used to say it a lot, but I'm glad I chose gabo, an expensive indulgence, but non-toxic. If it doesn't kill you outright, it's not doing damage to liver, heart, veins. Of course, the impurities mixed in and the illegal nature and subsequent exposure to illegal environments have a cost of course, but I see this as a result of misguided legal policies rather than the impact of the drug itself. Legalistic not pharmacological side-effects.
If I'd chosen alcohol, what would my liver look like today?
So how did I score, for those that are interested, including my future self (I imagine a clean-living country-dweller, grey around the edges , notebook on lap, at the fireplace, reading these almost unbelievable dedications from his past)? Sim rang, as I knew she would, on my work line, and asked me to score tonight. I said yes, no need to think. Scoring is an automatic reaction like wincing, or not voting Nationals. It's not scoring that takes an effort of will plus some thought.
So I'm revved up right now. Just spoke to dad on the phone and the call went okay but was prickly. Offered me bananas and carrots, which I told him I did not need. Honestly, I have banana going off in the fruit bowl. Gotta eat that pear. Maggoty thing son an egg this morning. Moths have badly infested my pantry. Pulled an egg out of a carton and the moths had laid three pupae on the base of the egg, and inside a little cocoon a maggot like thing wriggled. I knew it was outside the egg but still just could not stomach the idea.
And tonight I had true junkie fair, Red Rooster Tropicana, with a bottle of Coke.
At lunch I was walking four blocks to deplete nervous energy. I was telling S how I can not handle the little inequities that life hands you, when I don't have gear. Ant came in to work this morning and was quite rude to me. As a junkie I would have ignored and pressed on, but being an emotional being all of a sudden I brooded on it and ended up venting to a co-worker, Anne, for ten minutes about my frustrations. I know this is a normal part of a daily work life, especially when you feel frustrated, but this is something I have nit had to do before.
The same way you can be arrested in the morning and not even think about it as soon as you make bail, instead focussing on raising the cash to score again, gear lets you sleepwalk through the non-work side of work. A handy skill, but it looks like I will have to learn to find other ways to cope. Get exercise after work miss T says. I suggested that this Friday she may have to go to the dealers' by herself, if I am strong I will give it a miss. SHe did not like that suggestion -
"How about we use Friday and skip Saturday and Sunday".
But the junkie in me knows that once you've decided to score nothing is concrete anymore. Anything could happen, and it could be right now. The choice is yours, so make it worthwhile (The Clean). Not the first time I have quoted that line I feel.