...diary of a HEROIN addict - Background #2

So if your wondering what happened next when I was waiting to be bailed? Well lets go...

They had to keep me for an extra six hours more than they were really planning to as I had no address to be bailed to. I remember sitting in the cell full of anger but also full of regret and sorrow. The hangover was awful and I just wanted one more chance to live at home and not be a terror or fight with my stepdad. I say fight but they were a bit more than that. Police don't get involved for no reason right. In hindsight, I'm lucky charges weren't pressed. That would have landed me in prison earlier than what was already to come.

Just as I prepared to bed down for another night in the cells I heard the phone ring at the seargent's desk and I heard my name get mentioned. So all of a sudden I was full of a burst of hope as I did not want to spend another minute in there. Which if you've never been in an old British police station cells they are literally just a big room with a small concrete rectangle for a bed with a thin blue gymnastics mattress. You get a thin cover too if your lucky. You will never see your shoelases again.

On the off chance my hearing was correct! The phone call was for me and it was my 'girlfriends' mum. She had found out about the situation somehow and called in to say I could live at their house for a bit. I spent most evenings there anyway. This was a life saver and got me through the next coming months and I got my first job working at Barclaycard.

I was enjoying life again, my mum would give me lifts to work because she drove right past the building on her way to work anyway so that was nice. She helped me out with some money and stuff. I knew I would never live in the same house as her again but I was starting to get used to that.

I was drinking heavily still and was going into work with some heavy hangovers. Many a time having to go home at lunchtime because I physically couldn't handle it. My team leader and bosses started to take notice in a pattern of sick days and I was warned.

This was a shame because I loved the job. I worked rearly hard at it and I was rewarded for my hardworking. Our team was great and the social aspects of it was cool too. I saw my self going far and wanted to make a good career out of it.

However as all this sounds pretty good and normal, my drinking really was getting a hold of me. I was getting the shakes at work and taking more and more time off. I was suspended on full pay and told to sort my self out and then return to work.

Did I do this? No. I sank into a deep depression. Started to drink more, became physically addicted. Also I was so bad that I actually sought out heroin myself through my friend. How stupid could I have been? Very stupid. I was not peer pressured into it. I was not coherced in any way. The misery I was in just needed some company.

So to cut a long story short, I returned to work hooked on heroin and drinking still. It didn't last long and I had to give the job up.
I spiralled into years of heroin addiction and alcohol abuse. Periods of homelessness lasting months at a time. Prison. Psych ward 3 times. Failed relationships. Failed job attempts. Failed everything. However I did have some times sober. There was a year, a six month stint and a five month stint.

Over the years there have been many many bad times and many good times. Lots of stories and funny anecdotes. I have left a lot of these out so I can make individual posts on them later.

I had a number of different jobs and even had my own web and graphic design business at one point. But everytime you mess everything up it is harder to get back on top. Eventually there is no getting back on top and just dealing with being at the bottom.

Relationships was something I was awful at too. I'll probably have to do a mini blog just on all the failed ones I have had.

When I started to notice my health getting worse I checked my self in with the drug and alcohol services.
I moved into a house for alcoholics that the recovery services saw as no hopers. The house was staffed and they held our cheap cider for us in the office and wrote our initials on them in black marker. It was a surreal place. Someone died every month. People coming and going. 13 of us in one big four floored house. We watched television, drank and played pool on the pool table provided. At the time I had acreated I was an addict and that I was going to die there.
(I will be doing a post about 'the death house' another time)

Sure enough... Six months later...

I was diagnosed with chronic pancreatitis due to the alcohol abuse and hospitalised for a month.

My life changed forever that morning that I woke up in the worst pain I had ever felt. It was that bad that I went into shock and eventually passed out.

*What happened when I woke up on that morning? Find out in my next background post which will be all about my hospital stays, what is chronic pancreatitis and how it affects me and where I am now. *

I am currently not drinking but an active heroin user and prescribed oxycontin for the chronic pain I am in. A functioning addict is what most would call me at the moment. As functioning as I can be with CP. Rarely leaving the house I thought rhat steemit would be a great way for me to get a lot of my emotions out, write a blog and keep a diary. People can delve into the life of someone like me without having to actually go there. Risk free. I try to write these to the best of my ability and I hope they serve as a good source of information and entertainment.

Once I have written the third and final background piece I can begin the daily diary.

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...the diary of a heroin addict ~ raw, repugnant , realism.

All blog and diary entries are factual.
Names of others may be changed.
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