Memoirs Aren't Fairytales: A Story of Addiction by Mann Marni

Author:Mann, Marni [Mann, Marni]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2011-12-20T06:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Sunshine and I left the McDonald's bathroom, turned some tricks, and I went back to Richard's to re-up again. The next day wasn't any different, more tricks and more heroin. I'd broken the promise I'd made to Claire, and I went to her room to apologize—not for lying, but for pushing her away from the door. She told me she'd seen the devil in my eyes, and she never wanted to see that side of me again. I gave her my word. But if she ever stood in my way, I didn't know if I could keep that promise. Heroin was stronger than me.

I had convinced myself I could stop using, like dope was something simple like chocolate. But heroin was my air. It had a hold of me like we were chained together. And those shackles weren't just around my wrists, they were tied around my brain too. Once that powder was injected, I forgot about the puking, diarrhea, sweats, chills, and all the fun I used to have before dope, like none of it had ever happened. At the end of the high, all I could think about was getting my next fix.

The rush and the nod weren't the only things I was addicted to. It was scoring the dope and riding home on the train, knowing those bags were in my purse. It was dumping the powder onto the spoon and watching it turn to liquid. It was taking the orange cap off the rig and filling it. It was seeing the flash—my blood creeping into the chamber—and emptying the chamber into my vein. I'd fallen in love with the steady rhythm of working, buying, and shooting.

But shooting dope wasn't as easy as it used to be. The veins in my left arm were tapped out because I'd stuck them too many times. I had switched to my right and those were toasted too. Finding a vein was like a game of hide-and-go-seek. I'd poke anything that looked green or popped up when I used a tourniquet. My body was scarred with needle marks, and when I missed the vein, my muscles ached.

I lost track of time. My days all started and ended the same. Weeks blended together, and I didn't know if it was June or July. I shot up first thing in the morning, before I peed or brushed my teeth. I went to Richard's to score and split the dope with Sunshine. I panhandled and shot up. I boosted and then shot up. I shot up and hit the streets. I sucked dick and screwed, and shot up in between Johns. I shot up and went to bed.

When I had my period, I couldn't hook and was short on cash. I'd wake up sick and hug the toilet, and make all these promises to myself. Tomorrow would be the day when I'd change my life, I thought, in between heaving and shaking. I'd get a job and an apartment with Claire, and I'd stop using.

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