Heroin, a retrospective
!!!WARNING!!! If you are in recovery and are easily triggered this may not be the article for you!!!!
As I write this blog I am one week away from the 8 year anniversary of the night I intentionally overdosed on heroin. I began using heroin at the age of 12 when I was kicked out of my home for fighting back against my abusive stepmother.
It Started Early
From the age of 6–12, I lived with my Dad my Stepmom and her children. For the first three years, I was physically beaten and sexually molested by my Stepmom and my 2 older stepbrothers. I put an end to that when I threatened to cut one of their dicks off if I saw it again. The beatings went on for another 3 years until I fought back at which time my Dad, who allegedly knew nothing about it, kicked me out.
I am from right outside Camden, NJ and this is the winter of 1986. I had already had a budding relationship with alcohol and had already experimented with IV cocaine use, so I was already kind of familiar with the drug scene. When I first did heroin though it was different.
Heroin was the warm, loving embrace that I had never had but wanted oh so much. I can not express to you in words the feeling of relief it blanketed me with. As the warm, soothing wave rolled over me I was relieved of all of the burdens that had weighed me down up to that point.
I can not describe to you the efficiency with which heroin works. It worked so well that for the next 27 years I surrendered my soul to Her. I say her because that is how I always saw my relationship with heroin. I understand why domestic violence victims go back to their abusers. It was the same reason why I went back to Heroin.
We accept the love we feel we deserve.
As I said, for 27 years she gave me that for which I sought…
Oblivion.
But she exacted a heavy toll, which was everything and anything I had, be it my possessions, my freedom, or my Soul. But as with all abusive relationships ours ended in violence.
Shortly before my last and final relapse in an effort to find a reason for why I couldn’t stop doing heroin I went on several DMT vision quests. It did not bestow upon me the answers with which I sought, but it did something far greater and worse.
My last relapse began a few days after the last DMT experience. This time it was different though. You see as I said for 27 years heroin gave me the oblivion I sought and I was so co-dependent, so obsessed with being numb that I willingly and gratefully gave all I had, but this was no longer a sufficient price. She now wanted my oblivion as well. She had betrayed me, or so I thought.
The reality is that I had used her to build a fortress around myself. The child who only ever wanted to be loved and to have a family of his own had constructed a wall so high that the raging storm of unresolved Trauma, which blew like a category 6 hurricane outside this citadel of avoidance.
All that stood between my fragile psyche and this storm was the lie that heroin had spun for 27 years, that if I just stayed faithful to her, she would keep the demons at bay.
DMT shattered that lie. Now I gave her all and she gave me only misery and torment, amplifying not only the trauma but now the truth that I have been a slave to the Queen of Shadows, a prisoner in the land of Nod for almost 3 decades. And on top of this was the knowledge that I could never stop, I did not have the strength to fight anymore. I was in every possible sense of the word, tired.
So over the next several weeks, I began to seriously contemplate suicide until I came to the decision that it was for the best. There really seemed that there was no alternative. So that’s what I did.
I bought a couple of grams, ran a bath at my dealer/friend's house and I did both grams in 2 shots back to back and died.
I know I died because I was very dramatically revived on the said bathroom floor by a group of friends. Let me tell you how horrible it is to fail at suicide. I felt like the absolute biggest piece of shit loser ever and I had no fucking idea what the fuck I was supposed to do now.
The one thing that I knew without a doubt was that I would never touch heroin again, and so far that has rung true. I made my way to my probation officer and turned myself in. I had pawned some stolen items a year or so earlier and had stopped reporting when I relapsed.
I went to a medical detox for 7 days then to county jail and prison for the next 4.5 years. It has now been 3.5 years since I got out and 8 years since I left the most horrible relationship I have ever been in.
I wanted to take a moment and address Heroin directly.
Dear H,
I know it’s been a while and I am not reaching out now, no this is just me saying that I will always be grateful for all you got me through, for all the times you never let me down. I can not hold you responsible for all that I lost for I gave it all gladly and willingly, but you see I finally realized I deserve so much more than you could ever have given me.
No one will ever understand the love affair we had, and all you taught me about myself, the world, and those who inhabit this crazy fucked up globe. I can’t explain to others how great a teacher you have been to me without them thinking I am on the edge of relapse, but we know the truth. You were the greatest chemical mentor I ever had. You taught me patience, endurance, how to be brave in the face of danger, how to suffer in silence but also how to ask for help when needed. Mostly you taught me that I am worth loving.
This last lesson was not directly your doing but rather a result. You see I have friends who refused to let me go unloved even when you had convinced me that I was unlovable. Now thanks to those same loved ones I can now see our affair for what it was, a co-dependent dance where I never had the lead.
So this is ultimately a goodbye. I no longer mourn for your absence, for I have a Queen of Light to love me now, whose love has sustained me from before I knew it was there. I wish you no ill but hold no love for you anymore, I know that you will always be there waiting for my return, but alas, I would truly rather die first. So this will be the last time we speak.
That has been a letter I have contemplated writing for 3 years. I hope it was worth the read…
As always, be well…
~Namaste
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