The lost adventures- Heroin diares part two

I've struggled with the right inspiration for the right words. With my brain going from inspired to writers block in a matter of minutes sometimes. Trying to remember the twisted path ive taken is like remembering a dream hours after ive woken. Reading and re reading journals trying to patch together the last few years and analyze how they've lead to this place. Sometimes my muse has been less healthier than others. Leaving off at the beggining of the rabbit hole is as fine as any other place to continue...

At first Arizona was a breth of air that filled my very soul with joy. I was with J and basking in the sunshine everyday another adventure, every kiss oozing of passion. If i got homesick and ready to roadtrip back to my safe place close to family and familiarity J learned quickly a good dose would bring me back to his arms. These violent delights however have violent ends he would soon discover that my growing addiction would be the only thing in my life i would hold on to tighter than him.
I have a shoe box filled with our adventures and looking through them it occurs to me i have very little memory of the actuall experieces. Much like the photos my memory is only a snap shot. I remember being there but those first months are again so much like a dream. Like all things that seem too good to be true, just as i was blindsighted by the joy i was equally smacked with a landslide of dark reality


I struggled with a balance between abuse and medicating chronic pain for a very long time. That balance was (in hindsight) for a very long time completely dependant on "J" When we were great i could make the meds last but as things began to unravel more of them went up my nose and they became a way to not just medicate pain but to escape the growing heartbreak phoenix and my partner was becoming.

I moved to phoenix in the spring of 2010. We were blissful, even through hardship life was easy and we seemed to be able to overcome anything together. He gave me a feelng of euphoria everytime he entered a room that never seemed to fade. Every obstacle put before us was smashed with an overwhelming vigor. it seemed our love could conquer anything. Anything that is excecpt my urge to abuse my meds as the stress of our situation incresed. I used in front of J for a long time or made him aware of my use/abuse. Then came the shame and i began to hide, at the same time i began to fall more in love with the ritual of "fixing". The more i worked the more my body stressed and the amount of paini was in became hard to balance in conjuction with the amount of meds i was being presdcribed.

We may have pulled through all this with my ability to focus like a force of nature and his usually unfailing suppport. Fate hadn't planned it as such. In september J was diagnosed with MS, he would become paralyzed from the waist down less than one month later. My rock and my hard place was demolished along with his ability to walk, medicate, and even complete the basic tasks of living for himself.

half the woman i once was: the Heroin diaries part one

I'll bank on no one reading this and spit it. Im weighing in at just over 130 literally half the woman i once was but before you congrats me let me spit this the first piece of the story. So if your the last survivor of this lost and forgotten blog, heres my warning: Turn back now or choose to desecate my memory with this mad tale of debachuary. The rawest thing ive ever had to ponder back on and certianly the rawest ive ever by far been honest enough to post publicly. Maybe outing the madness within leaves me accountable.

Weight loss and a healthyier life physically and mentally was the goal. I wanted to be a better woman, mother and wife. Everything about my life felt bland and origonal. I can tell you with complete certianty that the lapsed time has been anything but. Everyday for the last few years has been either robustly filled with overwhelming joy and a euphoric clairity or the other end of that dream pool. However the trouble with extreams is the other side of that coin. The bad days where horrid with an unexplainable feeling only someone who has been where ive been.

The easiest way to explain this is to preface it with this: Two years ago i felt trapped in many ways but the easiest one to give a face to the largest of many was the body i felt like i was a prisoner to. For the first time in a vary long time i'd conquered that. Most days i looked in the mirror and a beautiful woman looked back at me. I felt like i could take on the world, and i tried to. I ran away with a lover, played with abandon and lost myself in the pleasures of life. I went to work in a place that dosed me with adrenaline and i felt like i was truely changing the world. working with people that i seemed to have a gift for understanding. Everyday was an adveture and my balance it seemed was in a mind blowingly perfect harmony. The clouds rolll in que thunder music and all that dramatic scence setting crap...I get into the first accident its horrible but ive recovered from worse, the second accident happens and days later im cliped by a car. The month after a car accident. Each time the body that id strived for, with strength and endurance became a little weaker. within a year im seeing an accupuncturist, deep presure massage and a pharmacy to manage pain.
I promised this was going to be the truth even if its intense to admit..I found out (from someone whom in hindsight was never a real friend) that the quickness of the fade of the pain and the fraction of the medication was about the route. She crushed the first oxy (then it was percocet the cleaner version Oxycodone came later) handed me the straw and told me it was fine everyone does it if they tell you don’t they're liars. So i did it and as soon as that powder was in my nose i was sold. I didnt give a shit what she had to say about it, swallowing them felt like a tragic waste. Some addicts have a love affair with the needle, i would simply fall in love with this route it felt clean and discrete. The same way I’d done meth all those years ago. I found that any knowledge of this “new and improved” route of medication was not socially acceptable. Shame was the only thing i feared, i had it together and i was taking less than prescribed, at first.

I ran from Portland searching for adventure, I went to phoenix. Now the most important factors in my decision to abandon everything and flee to phoenix where two things: My original drug of choice...J, ( considering the "slander" that will eventually ensue we'll just call him J as i did for 12 years) and the absurd easy acess to pain medication: oxy and the availability of health insurance. I got to run away from my problems bask in the sun and i had been given a second license to take the pain medication that i was quickly learning to abuse! Id discovered twice or more than a regular dose for all explanation purposes got me higher than i knew i could get. "High" doesnt quite fit the bill for this though, the closest i can describe to someone who hasn’t used is, clairity. Or at least it felt that way to me. Without pain and a partner to wrecklessly adventure with i got lost in the sheer pleasure of the world in every sense...it would seem that all was lost. I had no idea how deep the rabbit hole would go but wonderland was about to get seriously dark.