Things That Have Helped Me Move On Number 8

So this is quite deep, especially towards the end.

OK, so recently a few people have said that I should bring this blog up to date – friends, people at work, and a couple of people who have commented on previous posts. So here we go. An update on where my life is in the here and now, because that is where I live it. A psychologist will tell you that core characteristics of being a fully functioning person are accepting other people as you find them and living your life in the here and now. But more on that later.

I need to get this next bit out of the way...... I am an ex-heroin user who has currently been clean for 5773 days.

There, that is said now.

To spare you finding a calculator, 5773 days is about a month short of 16 years. You might want to go back now and read Just the Ticket again. I know I have today. It was the first thing that I ever wrote when I was only 145 days clean. The first product of a messed up mind. It’s about how when I’d been clean for 5 months I was really struggling with it and I met a guy who had been clean for 5 years and I just had so much respect for him. I had never in my time using heroin met anyone who had ever stopped for that long. I will call meeting him Things That Have Helped Me Move On Number 1.

So I have been clean for nearly 16 years. Try and imagine how I feel about that. Go on, try. Nope, you can’t. This buzz that I get when I think about my ticket.....well, it just keeps getting stronger.

OK, this may sound a bit crazy but when I think about staying clean as a physical thing that I have to keep in my hand, a ticket, it kind of makes it easier. Like it's somewhere physical to channel my effort. Let’s call that Things That Have Helped Me Move On Number 2.

To give you an update on the guy in Just the Ticket, I met him again a few years later, just to show him I still had my ticket. Unfortunately, he’d lost his.

OK, somebody ask me how I know the number of days? You know I’m going to tell you anyway. First, I am going to tell you a little story.

Back when I was on the gear I had a friend who had a friend who was in jail coming off smack. He told me that his friend found it helped him to count the number of days since he’d last used by marking off the days on the wall of his cell.

A few years after I heard that story, I found the strength and motivation to make change in my life. I moved to Newcastle and went cold turkey. At first I stopped on a mate’s sofa, then I was on the streets for a while, then I finally got a flat. I think I was about 5 months clean at that time but believe me it was a real struggle. It’s easy to think that once you get off it but...anyway I’ll come back to that in a minute.

To help me to deal with my struggles, I recalled the conversation that I had with my friend about his friend in jail. I decided that I needed to count the days. So I stuck a piece of A4 to the wall of my flat and I marked off the days one at a time. At the end of each day I would make a new mark and I would give myself a little pat on the back. I’m calling this Things That Have Helped Me Move On Number 3.

After 1000 days I stopped counting. The fact that I did that shows me that I must have moved on. I don’t need to count days anymore. Now I count in years.

About 8 years ago I met my friend’s friend for the first time, the one who was in jail. When I told him how he’d helped a total stranger to stay clean, well let’s just say it was a moment.

Before I started writing this today I had to root out a box from the cupboard and open it. A box of memories, everything I have ever written, all the original manuscripts handwritten on A4. I didn’t have a laptop back then. Smackheads don’t have laptops for long, normally about 10 minutes. Ex-smackheads living on the streets of Newcastle can’t afford them. Gotta get your priorities right, if you can afford to buy a laptop, you really need to stop eating in the soup kitchen.

So everything I’ve written is currently strewn around my feet. I’ve read things today that I’d forgotten I’d wrote, things from so many years ago that I haven’t needed to read because it is processed now. You see, this is what I do. I write about my feelings and then I read it. Then I read it again and again. I analyse myself. I read about my feelings over and over until I understand them and process them and do not need to read them anymore. I will read this post more times than any of you. I will call my writing and reading Things That Have Helped Me Move On Number 4.

If you haven’t worked it out from that last paragraph, I am writing this for me, nobody else. Just bear that in mind if you don’t like it.

OK, now I shall move on to old and new friendships.

Anyone who knows me will know that I am a regular user of Facebook. I’ll hold my hands up and say I use it too much. I’m guilty of doing those pointless things like rants and pictures of my tea. Every Facebook faux pas you can think of except ‘liking and sharing’ – it achieves nothing. Oh, and bathroom selfies. Not big on those either.

So Facebook users of a certain age (i.e. my age) will probably know what I’m talking about here. Through the power of social networking you reconnect with people from your youth. You add them, you have a quick chat, and you say ‘we’ll go for a beer some time’ and then you never do. Well this year I decided to change all that. I am really glad that I did. I made a New Year’s Resolution to make an effort and go for a beer with all the people I keep meaning to go for a beer with. There are a few more still to go, but so far this year I have reunited with an old school friend and a kid on my street that I used to ride Grifters and build James Bond cars with. People who I have not seen for over 20 years. If you both happen to be reading this, I would like you both to know that the days out we had in Leeds earlier this year were amongst the best days of my year so far, and there have been many good days this year. I really hope we will do it again soon and that is from the heart. So I will call reuniting old friendships Things That Have Helped Me Move On Number 5.

If we are talking about friendships then I cannot forget to mention my best mate. He knows who he is. He is the boy who lived next door that my mum told me to keep away from. He led me astray – well the truth is we led each other astray – and much of my drug history has been spent with him. But he is also the one person that was there for me when nobody else was. I knocked on his door out of the blue 5773 days ago and asked him to help me. He did. I would not be here now if it wasn’t for that man so thank you. You are Thing That Has Helped Me Move On Number 6.

OK, so perhaps now I should draw to a close. So I will close with this. To give you a brief history, once upon a time I was a very confident boy. At 19 years of age I had the world at my feet. Now don’t laugh but here is a picture.....

OK, remember it was the late 80’s. I actually looked really cool. I was the most confident boy in the world (can’t you tell?) I had my own house and a good job, plus I was deeply in love (though not with the girl that took that picture, she was an absolute bitch!)

A lot happened in the few years after that photo was taken The drugs started and I ran up debt, I lost the job and most of all I lost the girl. I was heartbroken. That’s why I got into the heroin. I felt so lonely and insecure and I stopped caring about being alive. Throughout my heroin career every time I stuck the needle in my arm I wanted it to be the one that killed me. I could see nothing for me in the future except more of the same.

So I think people understand that people who become addicted to drugs have lots of problems. But when you become addicted to smack you only have one problem and that is the smack itself. Nothing else matters, with smack life is easy. After some time you forget that you ever had any problems in the first place and you think that if you take the smack away then everything will be alright.

That is a million miles from the truth.

You take smack away and suddenly all those problems come back again. I have done my best to find other ways to deal with those problems in the last 5773 days but it is hard. I have tried to detail some of those ways in this article. But the truth is I have never really rediscovered the confidence that I once had when I was 19.

That is until now.....

Anyone who knows me will have seen a recent change in my mood. Not long ago I was a grumpy old man who didn’t care about himself much and never smiled. But now I am back to being that confident boy that I once was. I am always smiling and happy, I am taking more care of myself. People think it is a new me. The truth is it is an old me. A person that believes that he may have a future .

I cannot take all the credit for this. I have had motivation from another person. Another person has helped me to finally discover the old me. But I have to respect that persons wishes and say very little. I will just call her Things That Have Helped Me Move On Number 7.

So I am now at a time in my life where I am close to being a fully functioning person. I may have a long way to go but I am closer now than ever. I try to accept people as I find them and try to understand them. I always look for the positives in people, I may not accept their behaviour but I try to accept the person behind it. I do not judge people on what they have done in their past because I would not like to be judged on my past behaviour. I have done terrible things in my life and I have hurt people. But now I live my life in the here and now and I do not look back. There are still some things missing but I now feel more than ever that one day I can have them.

I can't actually remember a time in my life when I have felt as happy as I do right now.

And one thing is for sure, I honestly believe that I will never ever choose to take smack. I am better than that.

Just the Ticket (first written in December 1998)

I felt compelled to write this after what happened to me on Saturday night. You see, on Saturday night I was blessed with good fortune. That doesn't mean that a big finger came out of the sky, pointed at me and said 'It's you!' It was better than that.

On Saturday night I happened to meet up with an old friend from my hometown in Yorkshire. We were never exactly the best of friends, but it turned out to be one of the best Saturday nights of my life. And please believe me, I've had some damn good Saturday nights!

Just to keep my mate's confidence, I'll call him John. Last time I saw John he was a smackhead, and I was about to embark on a six year addiction. However, 145 days ago (at the time of writing) I turned a corner from heroin and left it behind.

Now when you've lived six years of your life as a smackhead (sorry for calling them that but heroin addict sounds so damn formal) then you become a master of deceiving people, and a deceiver is not easily deceived. So when John told me that he'd been clean for five years, I knew he was on the level. Now read that last sentence again. The key words are 'clean five years.' It's not a misprint; it shouldn't say five days or five months. Five years. If you're a smackhead then you'll understand that staying clean for five years is…well, I had to shake John by the hand. Respect, my man. You don't meet many like John; in fact through six years of knocking about with smackheads, he's the first one - and though I hate to say it, he's probably the last. Except me in 1,680 days time!

That Saturday night in December, John showed me his invisible ticket, and he made me aware of mine. A ticket that takes you on a journey. A journey that is all in the mind. You get a ticket, you go on the journey. Simple. Well, not quite. You see, it's very easy to lose your ticket. People get too confident you see. They think that they can put their ticket down for a minute while they 'just have a dabble'. So let's get one thing straight. 'Dabbling' is something you do before you get a habit. You can't do it afterwards. No sir! Maybe you think that you're the one and only oh-so special person that can, and at one time I thought I was the one and only oh-so special person that could, last time I had a ticket. But I lost it. 145 days ago I picked up another ticket. It cost me a lot to get this ticket. This time I ain't letting go.

If you don't understand what a ticket is, that's probably because you don't need one. But let me spell it out for you anyway: The destination that is printed on John's ticket is the same as is printed on mine. The destination is a place that we've both been to before. A place in our head called 'normal'. The public at large may like to think we were born like this, many of them don't understand that we were all normal people before we let smack take over our lives. And when I say 'take over our lives' that's not an exaggeration. When you're a smackhead the big issue is the next bag. In fact, it's the only issue.

So now you understand what a ticket is, I hope. If you're in the unfortunate position of needing a ticket to take you away from where you're at, then yours is right in front of you. All you've got to do is pick it up. To do that you've got to get through 24 hours without an opiate drug. That qualifies you to pick up your ticket. How long you keep it is up to you. But remember this…if you lose your ticket because you keep putting it down, and you will lose your ticket if you keep putting it down, you'll find it a lot harder to pick up again next time round. And you have to go back to the beginning of the journey. Square one. Or rather, square zero. I'm sure I don't have to tell you what life is like without a ticket. In fact it's not a life, it's just an existence.

The first part of the journey is restless and painful, but you'll get through it if you keep hold of your ticket. John did it. I did it. So you can do it. Once you've got through the first part, then it really is all in your head. But getting hold of this ticket was very difficult. Not enough people have them, they're very rare. Anybody who needs one can have one, but picking them up is not easy. Keeping hold is even harder. I can't put it into words how much it cost me to need this ticket, and how much it cost me to get it. After nearly five months, keeping hold is getting harder and harder. John says it will carry on getting harder for at least the next seven months. Then it gets a little bit easier - but only a little bit.

I can tell you something positive about having a ticket that's only five months old. When I think about my ticket, the feeling I get is like all those damn good Saturday nights rolled into one, multiplied by the biggest number you can think of, double it, treble it, stick a few noughts on the end and you're still a million miles away from knowing how good this ticket feels. When I go to bed, I keep my ticket in my hand. When I get in the bath my ticket has to get in with me, 'cos I'm not letting go of it. Not even for a big finger coming out of the sky, pointing at me and saying 'It's you!' These tickets are more precious than that. And if John can keep hold of his ticket for five years, then so can I. And so can you.

All this ticket business might sound like the product of a messed-up mind. Yep.

And John, if you're reading this, I hope we meet up again in a few years time, just to show you that I've still got my ticket. Just you make sure that you've still got yours!

Crying Shame (first written in December 1998)

This article is inspired by a headline in last weekends Evening Chronicle. It was actually on the front page. It told the story of yet another accidental heroin overdose. I was quite surprised that it made headline news. Smack OD's normally go unreported. It's just another dead smackhead, you see. Not many of us care for smackheads, do we?

Funny, I was in the library yesterday reading a book about smack. Sorry, but I can't help being so obsessed by the stuff. You see I was a smackhead once. In fact I've not been clean long - this is day 151 without. So all this writing I've been doing recently is what flows from a rehabilitating mind, a mind that's recovering from six years of the mental torment that is smack addiction. Just so you know.

A short time ago, I was asked to write an article about 'People's conceptions and misconceptions of a drug addict.' That was back when 'creative writing' was all new to me, and I didn't really give it much thought. I reckon I could write a much better piece on the subject now. However, 'drug addict' is so generalised. 'Drug addict' to me is a smackhead, a speed freak, an alcoholic, a cigarette smoker; and people's conceptions and misconceptions of one type of addict may not be the same as those of another. To write a piece on that…well, it could be a book. So in this particular article I'll give you the conceptions, the misconceptions and the truth about smackheads – because that's my favourite subject. Call me boring for going on about it all the time but it really does take over your life. It's all I write about, it's all I talk about, it's all I think about; and I don't even do the stuff anymore. But even though I've let go of the smack, the smack will never let go of me.

If you're a smackhead and you're reading this, you may not agree with everything I've got to say on the subject. I guess that depends on which stage you're at with your addiction. You see, you don't just get addicted and that's it, you go through phases. I can't speak for everybody, I can only relate my own case history; but I reckon I've been at every conceivable phase of smack addiction including the one that was on the front cover of last Saturday's Chronicle. I was one of the lucky ones that made it back. Nine out of ten times you come back out of a smack OD. The young lad in Saturday's Chronicle was the one in ten that doesn't.

It's interesting to note that people can pass half an hour or so of conversation slagging off smackheads; but unless you've been there yourself you can never really understand what the smackhead is going through. When they say 'It's really hard…' they're not joking. It is. But all you smackheads out there who are nodding their heads in agreement – if you've never been clean for any length of time, then even you don't know how hard it really is.

I'd like to make it clear that I've only been clean for 151 days (at the time of writing) and I know that's not very long. So please don't think that I'm being big-headed about what I've achieved, because I know that the worst is yet to come.

So here's a misconception. You do a detox, then that's it. No more addiction. Right? I wish! This addiction will be with me for life. I will fight it in my head every day. Sure, there must come a time when it gets easier, probably after the first year or so, but I'd like to tell you about a good friend of mine back home. She's called Jane. She had a bad habit for about five years back in the eighties. Back in the days when smack addiction was relatively new. (Fact – in 1985 there were only 8,819 registered addicts in the UK.) Back in the days when 'needle exchange' was a knitting move. It was one glass syringe between three back then with only one needle, which got sharpened on the back doorstep. I hope you don't think I'm joking, because I was there, I saw it with my own eyes.

It goes without saying that Jane got Hep B. But she found the strength to change her life and she got herself clean. For six years. Then she relapsed. That was five years ago and she's still stuck now. The fact that she relapsed after six years of being clean will hang over me for the next five years and seven months.

So why do people get into smack? The truth is I don't think anybody gets into smack for just one reason. It's a mixture of things. Like I say, I can't speak for everybody, but this is how it was for me:

I've been 'game-on' for a buzz since I was 14, and I'm now 29. Back in the early days it was dope, mushrooms, acid, and gas – you know the score. My partner in crime and I had two golden rules throughout our experimenting career – no heroin and no needles. We used to say that legs would be broken if one of us ever caught the other one out.

Then I got into speed pretty heavy. I lost three and a half stone in six months. Raver! But you can put the weight back on after speed – I also lost a couple of things that I'll never get back. One was a girl; the other was the confidence that I used to have so much of.

After what I did to myself with speed, I was feeling a bit stressed. I'd lost my job through the speed so I was bored as well. And all those mates that I used to go raving with were all doing smack. So that's stress, boredom, peer pressure….just one more thing needed. It killed the cat. It nearly killed me. You get this attitude 'you've tried one buzz you may as well try 'em all'. Just so you can say you've done it the once, just to see what it's like. So you try smack once, just to see what it's like. You try digging once, just to see what it's like. You convince yourself that it's 'just another class A drug'. Ecstasy is class A, so is LSD. You've tried those, so why not try smack? All that 'Heroin screws you up' and 'Just say no!' business with Zammo back in the eighties was just propaganda, right? Misconception!

So you try smack once. All your cares melt away. So you decide that you'll do it again. But remember, this is a really addictive drug, so you'll just do it once a week, then you won't get a habit, right? Misconception!

In case you don't know, this is how smack addiction works. Like morphine, smack is an opium-derived painkiller. It's the strongest painkiller you can get without a prescription. Your brain produces painkilling hormones called endorphins. But if you feed your body smack every day then that part of your brain switches off – you don't need the endorphins because you've got smack. Then when you've got no smack and you've got no endorphins, then it hurts. Cold turkey.

OK, so that means that if you don't do smack every day then your brain won't stop producing endorphins then you won't get a habit, right? Misconception! This is stage one of your addiction, the mental stage. You don't have to have a physical withdrawal to be a smackhead. But oh no, I wouldn't listen. I knew what I was doing. I wasn't a smackhead. I didn't turkey. In fact, I still joined in those conversations laughing at how stupid the smackheads were. No drug was ever going to control me. I had it sorted with drugs. I knew how to use and not abuse. I could handle it, right? Misconception!

Yes, you can control smack. But I'll guarantee this, whoever you are, even if you've got the IQ of an IBM mainframe, if you dabble with smack then it will start to control you. You might just play with it for years, depending on what else is going down in your life, but it will get you in the end.

Then you move on from the foil to the needle. The word 'addiction' takes on a whole new meaning. You're no longer chasing 'the gouch'. You're chasing 'the rush'. And part of that rush is when you pull back the plunger and see blood. If you're a smackhead and your habit is on the foil, please, please, please don't ever dig it. If you think you've got a problem now, it's nothing compared to when you start on the needle. Don't let it be you on the front cover of the Chronicle.

Once you've started digging, then you go through the greedy phase. No matter how much smack you've stuck in your arm, it's never enough. You just can't seem to get that 'gouch'. Last year I spent a £3000 bank loan and put £1700 on my credit card in just over a month. I was spending £80-£120 a day on smack. When you're digging a sixteenth a day, then you start needing a sixteenth a day, just to get you through. It's during this phase that you'll discover that you really will do anything for smack. When you're left with only one option, you'll take it, whatever it is. Some of you 'new recruits' to the habit may say 'I'll never get like that'. Yes, you will. I did things I thought I could never do, and here's another couple of case histories from back home:

Jim was 17 years old, with an £80 a day habit. He grabbed an old lady's handbag at a bus stop, but she wouldn't let go. He yanked it off her, she fell over and hit her head. Then she had a heart attack and died. Jim got four years for manslaughter, but now he's out and back on the smack. His family had to move out of the village that five previous generations had lived in.

To be really honest, I never really liked Jim anyway. But I do know that he didn't have it in him to rob an old lady before he sold his soul to the devil that is smack.

John was 22. Turkeying one night, he's grafting a house for his next bag. The owner of the house came home unexpectedly, saw John and came at him with a chair. John took the chair off him and beat him to the ground with it. The chair broke. Jim picked up a hammer. The Home Office said no release for 18 years.

Before John got on the smack, you couldn't meet a nicer lad. He was a talented footballer, the sort of lad that would bend over backwards to help anybody. Now he's bending over forwards on his wing for extra baccy….and for smack, of course.

There's another phase you go through with smack addiction. It's called the suicide phase. Make or break time. You can't see anything else in front of you except more of the same and you just don't want to live. There's just no point in carrying on. I'm lucky, I got through it. Too many people don't.

I could say 'sod ya, learn by your own mistakes'. But that's not why I'm writing this. I want people to learn from mine. All you people out there in your late teens or early twenties, especially the ones that are 'game-on' for a buzz, who laugh at the smackheads and say they'll never do it, please remember that I said exactly the same at your age. Jane didn't think it could happen to her, neither did John or Jim. I didn't think it could happen to me, and although I don't know it for a fact, I guess the guy on the front cover of the Chronicle didn't think it could happen to him. So please don't think it can't happen to you.

A Walk in the Park (first written in December 1998)

Well, it's the weekend, and Christmas is almost upon us. Normal people go out at the weekend. I used to go out at the weekend when I was a normal person, but then heroin took over my life.

You see, I couldn't even get through the first paragraph without mentioning it. I was determined that my next article would not be about smack. People may be getting bored of me talking about smack all the time. My apologies, but you'll just have to put up with it. I've tried thinking of something else to write about, I've thought long and hard on the matter, but I just can't get past the word 'SMACK' that is engraved across the creative side in fact on every side of my brain. Call it half a writer's block, if you will. If writing about smack and talking about smack is what it takes to keep me from doing smack, then you're gonna have to put up with it.

Just to put you in the picture, I was a smackhead for six years. In that time, the longest that I have ever stayed off smack is 16 days. That is it is until now, as it is 157 days (at the time of writing) since I last did smack.

157 days is not long to be clean in the world of smack addiction, but it's a start on the journey to becoming a normal person again.

There seems to be so much I haven't covered in my articles so far. Knock-on effects of smack addiction, each one is an article in itself, and I feel like I could write a book. For the purposes of this article, this 'product of a messed-up mind', I'm going to talk about how it feels to become and to stay clean.

Some years ago, in a halfhearted attempt to get myself clean, I attended a meeting of my local Narcotics Anonymous group. I had not used for 4 days at the time, in fact I was turkeying in the meeting.

To set the scene in your head, NA is like AA but for smackheads. After a brief introduction, anyone who wants to say anything, can. You just say 'I'm Joe, I'm an addict', then you thank everybody for their contribution, then you make yours.

Heroin is very popular where I come from. So I expected NA to be equally as popular. There were 8 people there, 2 of whom were students studying some form of social care. That left 6 of us. The chairperson, who was also an addict, said it was a busy night. Then you realize that NA is for ex-smackheads. Unfortunately there aren't enough ex-smackheads in this world. Getting and keeping hold of the 'ex' can be very difficult.

One of the ex-users, in his contribution told us that he'd been clean for 18 months. He talked of when he first got clean, one day he was walking through the park, when he suddenly started crying because he realised how beautiful the park was, and he never noticed when he was a user. Well, I had to stifle a laugh. The way he was going on about the daffodils, and the birds singing in the trees, I nearly creased myself. Get a life, man! He was rambling on like some fucked up junkie. Yep.

When I got clean for 16 days, as soon as I felt up to it, I went for a breath of fresh air. I went for a walk in the park.

I sat on a bench, lit a cig, and looked around the park. Suddenly, I began to notice things about life and nature that I'd never noticed before – how nice it all was. The daffodils, the birds singing in the trees. I sat in that park with tears streaming down my face. Life is beautiful.

Getting into and then getting off smack has changed my whole outlook on life. Back when I was a 'normal' person I was, I suppose, quite self-centred. I worked to earn money, get rich, have a nice car, holidays abroad, all the things you take for granted. Basically, I was out for myself.

When you get into smack, it closes off certain emotions. You don't feel love, you don't feel guilt, you don't feel any sense of right and wrong. All you care about is smack. But when you come through the other side of it those emotions come back and they come back ten times stronger. Now I care about everybody, I do what I can to help anybody, and above all I appreciate that life, just to be alive, is a beautiful thing.