Diary of a Drug Addict by Stephen E Crockett

Author:Stephen E Crockett [Crockett, Stephen E]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Kindle Direct Publishing
Published: 2016-12-06T00:00:00+00:00

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There is within a junkies mind a strong desire to live doing battle with a strong desire to die. The value of life is lost in the fog of this war and that turns a junkie into a ghost. A stumbling, bumbling victim of the war between life and death, brought on by a junkies unwavering love of smack. Obviously, there's a large part of me that's self-destructive and the fact that I'm a heroin addict doesn't help control that part of me. On the other hand, the fact that I'm still alive and walking around is something of a surprise. At least it is to me. How many times can I pass out without passing away? How many times can I break my own rules and live? I'm stronger than I give myself credit for being and at the same time I am so very tired. What do I have to do? I'm thin as a rail and shot full of holes. I'm starving to death in the land of plenty.

My arms have been torn to shreds and my veins are collapsing faster than I can rehab them. I now have what are known as “junkie veins.” My circulation's really poor, particularly in my hands and arms. My fingers are white because of a lack of blood flow to them. And their cold. My main point of sustenance comes at the end of a heroin loaded syringe. I'm at that point in my life where life makes no sense and I make no plans. If I'm awake at lunch, its only because I'm out of heroin. That means I must put together a plan for obtaining more. A best case scenario puts money in my pocket and another round of smack in my arm by dark.

This brings us to another drug drenched reality. If you're an unemployed junkie then in all likelihood you are dealing drugs. Anybody with a drug habit and no job has to deal to support their habit. The rules of the street demands that users be dealers. How else could you get your drug of choice? I deal the drugs I don't do so that I can buy the drugs I do. Today I'll peddle pills so that tonight I can have heroin and I need today to be a good day because I need heroin if I'm going to enjoy any part of tonight.

As of this year I'm fifty-five years old. So, what am I to make of this pivotal achievement in my life? I am a bit surprised to be here and wonder what I should do to mark the occasion. It's not the same for me. Sober people say happy birthday. They have birthday cake and parties. They have friends, family and coworkers and they're congratulated for mastering another year. For them it's a positive marker on life's path. They get presents, toast their fortune and join together with their friends in a celebration of all they've accomplished.

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