Catching My Breath

“I have made the big decision…I’m gonna try to nullify my life…”


You know what’s funny about junkies is, they are so completely predictable.  They isolate, self-medicate, lie, bow out of anything and everything meaningful, rarely answer a call higher than drugs, and are generally completely and entirely irresponsible.  You don’t let them baby-sit or house-sit.  You don’t loan them your car.  You pray they won’t call, since it’s probably a crack at securing money or a safe place to use.  You lose sleep if they don’t call.  You eye them when they’re in your house.  Most of the time, you lose touch with them, whether you mean to or not.


It’s amusing how at the first sign of any confrontation, a junkie can instantly transform into the busiest, most reliable, and impressively hardworking person on earth.  When a junkie is faced with the prospect of something like inpatient rehab, there is no one alive who can compete with a junkie for first prize in responsibility, reliability, obligation, a sense of duty, and a full calendar.  “But I have to work!  “People rely on me!”  “I have responsibilities!”  “I can’t pay bills if I leave.”  “My life would fall apart!”  And the ever-conventional: “I just need time.”  Not hard to read in between the lines of why they really don’t want to go.


Of course, any junkie already knows his/her life has fallen apart.  Junkies suck at paying bills; they find employment difficult or impossible; they do a piss-poor job of attending to people and things in their life, including themselves; and they have this magical ability to ruin everything they touch.  The reality is, no one needs a junkie around.  It’s worse than wasted space, because it’s just a drain. 


I can’t stay on track.  Every time I make progress, I lose it.  It’s like trying to hold onto water.  I can do it for a while, but the whole time, the water keeps seeping through hidden cracks in my hands until I’m left clutching air.  I keep trying to go back to where everything went so amiss, but every time I think I reach the inception, I find my mistakes are rooted still more deeply.  This is where I am now: whether or not to do methadone.


Last time I quit, I promised myself that if I landed here again, I would try it.  I’ve gone in circles so long that I’ve lost my bearings.  Conflicting thoughts about quitting are causing a raging battle inside my head that drowns everything else out.  Reasons for wanting to avoid methadone: inviting The Man into my life, potentially swapping one addiction for a less superior one, cost, and a lot of uncertainty.  I’ve been trying to learn about methadone, but I have so many questions.  I don’t know what it will be like to go down there every day.  I wouldn’t have a say in how much they give me, and what if I get a physician who decides to start lowering my dose quickly?  It seems there is always an introductory cutoff level, usually around 30 or 40 mg.  What if that’s not enough?  Even if it is, it doesn’t deliver the rush like smack.  Sure I could add some benzos or alcohol into the mix, but it’s not the same, and what if they test for those?  Reasons to give it a try: I’m feeling a little threadbare. I keep doing the same thing over and over, and the only thing that changes is that I feel a little more apathetic each go-around.  I need to distance myself from where I get drugs, and I don’t know any other way.  A lot to think about over the next few days.



Filed under Drugs

11 responses to “Catching My Breath

  1. Well, you can’t accuse yourself of not answering a call higher than drugs. You write; and your writing is fantastic.

    As far as Methadone goes…you are absolutely correct to fear that you’ll be swapping a superior addiction for an inferior one. An inferior addiction which, I’m told, is far, far harder to kick.

    What about suboxone?

  2. Mike E! Good to see you.

    In all honesty, I worry that suboxone is too much of a safety net, too much the right answer. It packs less of a punch than methadone, and I’m still holding out for that high. Plus it contains naloxone (opioid antagonist), which means that if I try to abuse it, it will have the opposite effect. I was given naloxone once, and I would like to avoid that feeling again at all costs. Then again, withdrawal is about the worst thing on earth, and if methadone is worse than suboxone to kick, maybe I’m asking for trouble.

    Okay, so my reasoning is a little fucked up…but there you go. I can’t get 100% of me to want to quit yet. Not sure how to make that move toward total commitment.

  3. bottlecappie

    The reality is, no one needs a junkie around. It’s worse than wasted space, because it’s just a drain.

    Oh, Rhea, that hurts.

    Please don’t forget that you are a person. A person with a problem, or a disease some would argue, but person first and foremost.

    I hate that junkie trope. I hate how reductive it is, how it strips people struggling with addiction of their dignity, their humanity. I hate how it creates an expectation to be filled, and how people use it to dismiss sick people and to deny them the help that they need.

    I hate thinking of you thinking of yourself that way.

    I keep trying to go back to where everything went so amiss, but every time I think I reach the inception, I find my mistakes are rooted still more deeply. This is where I am now: whether or not to do methadone.

    Stop trying to go back. Go forward. Maybe you can’t get back to the place where it all went amiss because that place doesn’t exist anymore. It’s possible that the healing you’re seeking needs to happen from the outside and work its way in.

    It’s ok that you’re not ready to quit. It’s a huge thing to be able to say to yourself “This thing that I love so dearly has to stop because it’s wrecking me.” Especially if that very same thing once seemed like salvation.

    You know, whatever you do decide wrt to methadone or suboxone, it’s not written in stone. You could try it, and if you don’t like how you feel you can try something else. You can go back to using, if that’s what you decide you need.

    You don’t have to be 100% committed to quitting to get started. You can just try, and then see if your commitment grows. Right now, it sounds like you’re in this place where you know what you need to do, but you’re just not ready. God, I wish there was something I could type here in this little box that would just push you over the line. But I don’t. Hell, I’m still straddling that line, at best.

    I’m sorry that you’re still struggling so. I hope you’ll be able to find some clarity over the next few days as you’re trying to think about what you should do.

  4. Hey Rhea,

    You are a very talented writer and thinker, first off. And you may think that we you come off drugs you may lose some of your inspiration or muse–at least I did. But I haven’t lost my zany spirit nor have I lost my passion for words and thought and wonder for the natural world. You won’t either. Not sure if that is something you think about but thought I’d share.

    I don’t know you, of course. But in some ways I do think that I know you a little. I know that you are an incredibly giving, kind, sensitive and passionate person. You will make the right decision in the right time and place. You have so much to give the world and I’m looking forward to seeing even more of that!

    Behind you, whether sober, harm-reducing or high as a kite!


  5. It’s my first visit here. Very well written, great blog! Would like to know more about you. I mean other than your age ofcoz ;)

  6. Thanks bottlecappie…will send you an email. Hope you’re doing well.

  7. Hi John,

    Interestingly, I do view drugs as a source of creativity, especially musically. It’s good to hear sobriety didn’t put a dent in your creative flow. :) You’re blessed with a strong and fiery spirit that’s no doubt much richer without drugs.

    Thanks from the bottom of my heart for the unconditional support…back at ya.


  8. Hi Praval, thanks for visiting. How was your holiday to Silvassa? Feel free to ask away.

  9. Hey Rhea!
    Thanx for your comments. I also loved the way you describe things! My life is interesting for sure if not busy :) Where d’ya belong to? I am from Delhi, India. Would love to know you more. Lemme know if you have any social bookmarks, IMs, etc

  10. staticity

    I am taking suboxone right now for heroin withdrawal and abuse. It works like a charm. Like you, I have tried to quit a couple times and didn’t know if I felt 100 percent ready. After one day of suboxone I felt normal. Not high. I realized that I had to quit heroin and kick it good. I can’t tell you that it’s not addicting. I can’t tell you I’m not scared about getting off suboxone. I can tell you it kills most of your emotional cravings. It does kill your withdrawal with in an hour. I think with suboxone and a safety net of people, you can do it. I’m going to NA right now every day and it’s slowly working. Maybe you could write me back and we could keep in touch through wordpress? It’s really really hard and I’d love it if we could talk. It’s hard finding people who understand
    I liked your blog entry. If you ever want to check mine out it’s

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