WARNING: Graphic Drug Use

The silver hollow sliver. Small but deadly.

The silver hollow sliver. Small but deadly.

The small excerpt below is taken from the story of my addiction. I must warn readers to its graphic and very detailed nature. It is a small piece of my true story; my relentless addiction to heroin and other drugs. If you are new in recovery and sensitive to any drug triggers, strong thoughts of using, or if you are still glorifying drug use- you may want to skip this post until you have both your feet firmly planted in recovery. The sequence of events below took place in the midst of my addiction when the capsizing wake of my addiction had already sunk my ship. I was homeless and had nothing but heroin, a spoon, some cotton and a needle. Any vestige of my true-self had been almost completely defeated…

(excerpt from my book)

[…Cars zoom past me as if late for an important meeting. I stand alone on the faded yellow curb. A local transit bus squeals to a sudden stop to my right. The sounds of leaky hydraulics radiate from under the frame as the bus driver opens the scissor-style doors. As the passengers’ board and fight their way to an empty seat, I notice a young boy staring at me through the scratched window of the bus. He is all alone. He is wearing a blue and yellow mask that he probably made at school. The eye-holes are cut out as well as a small slice for his mouth. For some reason I can’t break my focus from this little boy. As I stare in bewilderment, he gives me what looks to be a half smile that is projecting an unspoken message. He slowly shakes his head side to side. Is he telling me no? What is he trying to say? Why is this bothering me? I feel a shiver forming through my body. I continue to stare at the boy as the bus pulls away. He raises his hand in the shape of a pistol and puts it to his temple. He pulls the trigger and drops his head down on an angle so that I can see his mask as the bus pulls away.
The exhaust is still billowing into the air as I walk across the street to a local gas station. My thoughts are still turning the odd visuals of the little boy, his mask, and the bus. As I approach the station, my attention is diverted to a man on a Harley Davidson. He is wearing a worn black leather jacket that looks like it has seen its share of highway miles. His Levis are torn on the knees but held together by a few, small white threads. His face looks as if it has never been under a shade tree. The lines and wrinkles on his weathered face tell me he’s had a rough life. As I approach his motorcycle, he asks, “Hey, man. You have a light?”
“Yeah, sure.” I hand him my lighter and as I do he says, “Can you get me some cocaine?”
“I can get it but I don’t have a way to get it. I don’t have a vehicle,” I respond.
“I’ll give you a ride. Hop on.”
The powerful acceleration of the motorcycle jerks me backward. The wind fills my ears with empty air sound. We fly down the road with one thing in mind. One purpose, one reason. Our determination pays off as we approach an area well known for its high volume of illegal activity. My ears are still ringing as he kills the motorcycle engine. For a brief moment, I recall the boy on the bus. The thoughts are washed out by the voice of my new biker friend.
“Hurry up, I don’t have all day,” he gruffly reminds me.
“I’ll be quick man, no worries.” My heart starts beating fast as I realize I am about to get heroin and cocaine.
Before I met this guy I had no money and no way to get any. Once he gets his cocaine and I get my heroin, we will probably go our separate ways. It doesn’t matter though. We do whatever it takes to get our fix.
With the dope safely secured in my tightly closed fist, we drive to a local grocery store. Their bathrooms serve as a safe haven for shooting up. When you are homeless it is hard to have privacy. Public bathrooms provide that privacy.
We pull into the grocery store and park the bike next to the building. I am nervous as I approach the entrance. The automatic doors open swiftly to the motions of shoppers and children. A gust of air hits me as I enter the store. My focus is on the back of the store where I see a blue plastic sign pointing the way. My fast-paced walk gradually turns to a jog. I can hear my friend keeping pace but I don’t acknowledge him.
Since I reach the bathroom first, I go into the stall that is against the wall. I like these stalls the best because if someone comes in while I am using, I don’t run the risk of having people on both sides of me. My new friend goes into the stall next to me. I see his hand lower under the stall wall. I hand him his cocaine, a spoon and a needle. I start to get my heroin ready, but he interrupts me saying, “Hey man, let me try some of that stuff.”
I know he hasn’t used heroin in a while and I’m a little worried to give him some. He doesn’t seem like the type of person to reason with though, so I hand him my leftovers under the metal door.
I return to my own priorities. I draw back the heroin and fill the needle. A couple shakes of my wrist and the air rises to the top of the syringe. I push the air through the needle and spin the needle around with my fingers. I look down and gently place the needle’s sharp point against the vein protruding from my left arm. One quick tap with my index finger and the needle tears a hole. I pull back on the plunger to see a deep red color mix with the liquid heroin. PUSH. The warm mixture enters my veins with vengeance. Within seconds I feel the world’s troubles subside into total bliss.
As I wipe the blood from my battered arm, I open the stall door. I look up and see my friend leaning towards the mirror with both hands on the sink. Sweat runs down his temple and off his forehead. He looks as if he is staring through his own reflection.
“Hey, are you okay?” I ask. He takes a slow deep breath and says, “Yeah.” He lets go of the sink with both hands and his body drops to the hard tile like a bag of wet sand. Images of the boy on the bus flash back and start to haunt me.…]

What do you do? What do you do when a man drops dead right in front of you? In a public bathroom, with no doors- after shooting up heroin that you gave him only moments ago? The man’s pockets are littered with balloons of cocaine and remnants of heroin; spoons, needles, and cash scattered over the bathroom tile. It is impossible to hide the bloody track marks up and down your arms… So… Do you call the police? Do you yell for help? Or, do you run?

 

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18 thoughts on “WARNING: Graphic Drug Use

  1. Omg wow Dustin. I can’t wait to read your full story. For you to have turned your life around and to have crawled out of the hell you were in, only shows what an amazing person you are. You are an inspiration to others going through what you did and also to those who haven’t had to fight those demons. Xx

    Liked by 3 people

    • Thanks kiltracy. Hopefully, if even one person don’t have to that would be great. It was hell for sure but the choice to die for me wasn’t an option. Thanks for continuing to read my blog. You reading it, and others who do, make it worth the fear of posting it. I can’t see myself as that guy anymore. Kind of weird because well, it was me. lol I am glad I am out finally. 🙂 It only took me about 13 years. :-/ Thanks again.

      Liked by 2 people

  2. 😦 Nasty, and so much more than I can put in words. In my country using harddrugs is not illegal, carrying or dealing it is. Yeah, that is funny, but I am guessing it would have changed your reaction because even before you question what to do you check if you ‘look the part’ and notice that you cannot hide the drug use.

    I have never been where you are, alcohol used to be my thing. A fully legal harddrugs 😦

    I do wonder how you knew he was dead immediately? And why CPR and calling an ambulance is not in the list of things to do? Or are these silly questions?

    Liked by 2 people

    • Nasty sums it up quite well. It was pretty nasty. Do you live in Portugal? I wish they would make it legal here. It would solve many of the problems within weeks.
      I don’t want to say too much about what actually happened with the guy because it will be giving away more of the story. I will say that I didn’t know he was dead immediately and your questions are not at all silly. They would all be on the list of things to do- especially if the list was that of a sober person. It is difficult to think rationally when you are using heroin.
      Thank you for your comment and for taking the time to read this. 🙂 Hope all is well.

      Liked by 2 people

      • Thank you for your reply. And I do live in Europe, in a quite liberal country when it comes to drug use. And we there for have (had?) percentage wise the least hard drugs addicts and of those the least people dying of it… Not counting alcohol. Not sure on the figures there.
        I am happy you quit. Thank you for sharing. 🙂

        Liked by 2 people

      • You’re welcome. The current stats and evidence definitely prove that prohibition only destroys people and cultures. When they banned alcohol in the US it created massive civil dysfunction and it created mobs for the underground trade/black market. Crimes skyrocketed. Using force to solve ANY social problem will only magnify the problem while placing massive amounts of money into the few connected elite. They know it, and know we know it. Thanks for the info on your country. Very interesting stuff. Thanks and you as well. 🙂

        Liked by 2 people

  3. Oy vey, Dustin. What a pickle there! I laugh because I know that you’ve come through this and are sharing your story. We have all heard these kind of stories. hard to read / listen at times, but important to remember where we came from, ya know? And I think you are doing a service doing this – and great that you put that disclaimer at the top. Very sensitive of you for doing that.

    The kid in the mask haunts me now as I type this. A harbinger of something? An angel in disguise? Guardian angel? I don’t know…just stuff that comes to me.

    Thank you for this, Dustin. I look forward to more 🙂

    Blessings
    Paul

    Liked by 2 people

    • Lol thanks Paul. I’ve been slow to share too much of my story because it can be hard for some people to read. But at the same time, writing and sharing it helps me remember how bad it can get.
      The boy shows up again, I will say that. Lol thanks for reading and sharing your thoughts. Hope your marathon went well. 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

  4. I wanted to keep reading, you were meant to write Dustin! I can not wait to get my hands on your book! I am terribly sorry you had to experience that, although it is an inevitable part of life in deep dark addiction. We have lost far too many good friends to that hell.It is great you made it through the hell that many do not escape and are now helping people by sharing your story. Awesome job!

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thank you! 🙂 that’s only because it was edited about 57 times lol. Addiction is a terrible thing and after watching it take the lives of many of my friends, it really makes a person think about what matters in life. I will let you know when the book is in print. 🙂 thanks for reading and sharing and being so helpful.

      Liked by 2 people

  5. This was an amazing read. You’re quite talented, and I really felt as though I was in the story. I’ve been in some pretty shitty situations as well, and I recall just getting to a bathroom, any bathroom, just to do what I had to do. I don’t know what I’d do in that situation.

    Liked by 2 people

    • Thank you for the kind words. Sadly, once i was locked in a bathroom, i was completely okay with everything and content with my messed up life. The time in this post was an exception of course. I look forward to reading your posts over the next week. Was you using heroin too? Its such a deep and lonely exsistance and im happy that you have escaped your past. I often still wonder what happened to that man in the bathroom. Thanks again for commenting and reading. 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

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