A Note From The Writer

Welcome to the archived blog posts (when I was a wee blogger, wet behind the ears and not aware of spell check and various other gramatical structures!) I have kept the writings unedited or reworked as I am in the process of doing a massive rewrite of my entire life, many posts I have yet to publish and this blog was merely writing practise for the massive job of sorting out my emotions whilst retelling the story as cuttingly real and dramatic as the real memory was.. some of the posts contained are raw, streaming emotion.. many posts although painful to write, had a tremendously cathartic effect - cheaper than therapy one would say. I welcome new and old readers to keep in touch via my author email (sensualexplorersatHotmaildotcom) if you have any questions or wish to share the feelings and emotions raised by my work.
I will announce the publish date and title whenever it happens and I have been clean now for three years. It is possible.
But it is never easy. It's a lifelong journey, I will always be an addict, but I must stay one step ahead of myself and protect all that can be ruined in the eternal struggle to be
at ease once again, comfortable in this skin.
Thank you for being a part of my story.

Tuesday, September 07, 2004

Got Milk? No and I'm Mad As Hell !

"I want you as bad as a heroin addict wants his image" Interesting quote, even if it is aimed at the generic male addict.

Cruelty occurs when people lose touch with the real world. This is partly due to the fact that we are distanced from reality by a life we do not lead, therefore we are also distanced from one another. We experience the world through television and drugs to enjoy social communication. We use machines instead of our bodies and when our bodies fail us, machines keep us alive. When we do not feel life, we do not feel what it is to be alive. We do not feel compassion, our neighbour is invisible. When he suffers, we turn the television off or simply register a blank. Existence is a bubble we feel will never burst.
Then I came along, full steam ahead.

heroine draft entry 4 /The Highrise

We moved into a small modest flat. It was a fibro , sparsely furnished and very basic. It was set upon the beachside. Just in time for another gruelling Australian summer. The salty blue ocean was our backdrop, set amoungst piping hot white sand and python green foilage.

I had my cat from the Stepmothers brought to join our little family. Lovely Legs. That was the name we gave her. She was a gorgeous tabby, a stray I found on the street, I fely sympathy when I looked into those hunted eyes. She was my baby girl. Things were sweet. We stayed off the drugs and did all the coupley things. Went to the movies. Held hands and walked the beach, collecting shells. Went fishing. It was a young, carefree and innocent summer. We both got tanned and healthy of a diet of fish and seafood caught on the beachfront. The time was nothing extravagant. But it was ours.

I remember my first shot of heroin was a total non event. I remember the total anticlimax. " Man those junkies must be fucked up to wish themselves on the nod". I remember saying to both myself and The Ex

I remember thinking I was going to (a) overdose instantly ( too many movies) (b) start throwing up (personal experience of boyfriend) (c) fall asleep mid sentence . Nothing. The needle slipped in easily and jacked back.I got a faint taste in the back of my throat. I remember thinking ...Is this It ? If only I could’ve repeated that just once more time in my life again, with the same meaning , I might’ve spared myself five years of heroin addiction. In hindsight , I can see that I was just ripped off. Standard. I actually think it’s funny. Is that weird ?. Having a drug problem is always a little bit of both.

I had a second taste about a week later and down into the rabbit hole I went. I had a long perfumed bath afterwards and I have never felt so torn between total bliss and melancholy. Heroin slipped over all satin, pouring pleasure in fleeting waves of unatural glory. My eyes become glazed over with some kind of superpower. Like a murky veil, so I could see out in a haze and yet people could not always see the me, inside.
They stayed like that for five years.

I dont subscribe to the theory that your addicted instantly. but have a shot of Heroin - everyday for five days - your well on your way to feeling uncomfortable and in that window of opportunity , the tap on the shoulder will get you.
It drives the car.
It dials the number.
It hands over the rent money , and it tells you its ok.
It wasn’t.

It felt too good to share a shot together and curl up in front of the video. A warmth you’ve never felt, a comfort you have never reached. At what cost ? Had we let some all encompassing menace into our home. It was a presence. The minute I opened my eyes. You automatically check how stoned you are or later, how sick you are. First thought for five years. Then, reality seeps in. Dont answer the phone. it’s the landlord...pull the curtains. it’s your straight friends. they dont "get" you anymore. Roll over. How am I going to afford a hit today. You just do. You just will. Roll back again. You’re awake now. you’re not going to sleep easy for a long time.

I remember the scene was starting to open up to me. The way the scoring game works is simple. You are given a dealer and a mobile number. You call. You say " can I see you" he says yes..10 minutes. 2 minutes (yet) or an hour or so ( the worst one is when the mobile phone is off for a day) Depending on the level you know the dealer ( measured by how often you see them) then he will meet you close to your home, at your home or at a shopping center or landmark. How many times I would rise zombie like, still clad in pajamas ...down to the phone box and sit in the bus top waiting for "my man" I remember no time to wash my face, brush my hair, I remember sweating in the sun. Then you spot the car, moving not too fast yet with deliberate purpose. Your purpose. In one fluid movement , you spot the car, give your money a reassuring pat in your pocket, pick up your cigarettes and glide into the passenger seat. You don’t look back, you only look forward into the oncoming traffic.

Maybe that was a sign.


Just putting together some ideas at the moment , trying to organise my head into chapters.
Hope you enjoy the journey with me

Heroine Girl - From the Gutter to The Stars...One Blog at a Time - Link if you dare ;)


Biek said...

Hey HG,

'From the Gutter to The Stars' ... Go girl! Go girl!

Maybe you should (but who am I) start numbering your posts 'Revelation 1 to x' ... so that way a future editor can make it into a nice book more easy ;-)

Boy what a journey girl, at the moment there is (again and not for the last time I suspect ;-) a mixed feeling with a hint of pity and truck load of deep admiration going on in my mind. With about eighty percent of the latter I might add.

But know this. Whenever during this journey you feel like you're taking it alone, just check your rear view mirror and you'll see me sitting in the back seat, taking in every single word, every single breath, truly enjoying the ride so far.

Oh by the way, just to raise my 'do or dare' bar a little I added a second link to your Blog on mine. Let's wait and see what it does shall we? Oh yes I dare! *grin*

Your loyal fan,

Dacia said...

Wow, what a striking post. Really lovely writing - keep at it!

Trish said...

I saw you over at Indecentblogging.com - I hope we see you writing over there, too! (interesting stuff you've done here so far...)

Bodhisatta said...

Well, I've finally sucked it up and joined. I don't want to be confused with other anonymous folk. It took me forever to find a username. And I'm not even Buddhist, just interested in the idea.

HG- You've taken me back to places I haven't dared think about in years. Oh how I loved the early days of recreational heroin use (or so I thought it to be recreational). It was so sensual and romantic. I felt at home and adventurous. How quickly that changed...

Thank you again for your writing. I envy your commitment to sharing your experiences. Like Biek said, I'm enjoying the ride. :)


darling maggot said...

i love your shit.

i hope you fucking keep writing cos i wanna fucking keep reading.

Anonymous said...

OK - found you through Belle - no doubt you got a lot of new readers from that source.

Sister is a junkie, crack and heroine - my normal reaction to anything to do with this type of addiction isn't exactly positive - but you seem to be able to write, and it's given me a little insight into the attractive elements of the drug, so I'll keep reading and see how things develop.


Biek said...

Hey HG, what's up girl? Are you okay? It's been (too?) silent here the past couple of days.

Give us a sign will you?

Biek said...

Arwgrmblll ... Never mind ... duh! Company's internet server kept digging up offline files ... Don't mind me, I'm just ...