L'equazione della droga

La droga è un’equazione cellulare che insegna al tossicomane verità di validità generale. Io ho imparato molto ricorrendo alla droga: ho veduto la vita misurata in pompette contagocce di morfina in soluzione. Ho provato quella straziante privazione che è il desiderio della droga e la gioia del sollievo quando le cellule assettate di droga la bevono dall’ago. Forse ogni piacere è sollievo. Ho appreso lo stoicismo cellulare che la droga insegna al tossicomane. Ho veduto una cella di prigione piena di tossicomani in preda alle sofferenze per la privazione della droga, silenziosi e immobili ciascuno nella sua individuale infelicità. Sapevano quanto fosse inutile lamentarsi o agitarsi. Sapevano che, fondamentalmente, nessuno è in grado di aiutare il prossimo suo. Non esiste chiave, non esiste segreto in possesso di qualcuno e che possano essere ceduti.

Ho imparato l’equazione della droga. La droga non è, come l’alcool o come la marijuana, un mezzo per intensificare il godimento della vita. la droga non è euforia. È un modo di vivere.

William Burroughs

Josh

Here’s what Josh had to say about:

His first experience with heroin…
I started snorting heroin when I was 14 out of curiosity. When I was younger, I didn’t really know what heroin was. The first time I got high from heroin, it was a nice, mellow high, and then I puked. But it didn’t feel bad. It was a special high – the best high I’ve ever had – and I wanted more. No one said that heroin was dangerous, so it didn’t scare me. My friends talked about good things when they talked about heroin. They didn’t talk about the bad side.

How he got involved with prescription drugs…
The first time I tried Percocet®, I was 14. It was right around the first time I tried dope (heroin). I was at a party and I saw a bunch of kids eating pills and they said it was better than a weed high and I wanted to see what it felt like. I liked it. Eventually, I started eating pills when I was sick from heroin or if I couldn’t get it. I started with Percocet® and went on to use OxyContin®, Vicodin®, Ambien®, Coricidin® and Unisom®. And I thought prescription drugs were sort of safer. I didn’t think it would affect my body because doctors wouldn’t give them out if they weren’t safe.

His thoughts on heroin versus prescription drugs…
I preferred heroin hands down. I know a lot of people who take Oxy rather than dope, but it was too hard to get and it was harder to shoot it. I also had a bad reaction to the Oxy. It did, however, make me feel exactly like heroin. Basically, pills were for when I couldn’t get heroin or if I was at a party and they were giving them away. I’d also buy them if I could find them cheap. Anywhere from $5 to $15 dollars a piece. Sometimes my friends would hook me up for five for a dollar. They can range from anywhere. Some kids will sell them for 25 cents. Depends on how they are getting them.

The role drugs played in his social life…
Mostly all of my friends used heroin, but a lot of them also used prescription drugs too. I had friends’ parents who had prescriptions and my friends would steal pills from them and hand them out at parties. Sometimes, they would hand them out on your way into the party. My friends were like my family. They were my siblings. They were always there for me. But, in retrospect, they really weren’t because they were getting me high.

His thoughts on addiction and other health risks associated with heroin…
I never thought about getting addicted to heroin, because when you’re getting high you don’t care. I was just thinking about getting high. I was worried about how it would make me feel…was this going to be a good or bad high. I knew there were other issues that I needed to take into consideration – especially since I was injecting the heroin at times. I was aware that I could catch HIV/AIDS, but I didn’t care. I realize now that I was lucky. I bought new needles almost every time. $3 dollars a needle and $7, $8 or $10 a box. There are five needles in a box.

How his family and the law confronted his addiction…
Eventually I was locked up by the state. I resisted all treatment for a while, but towards the middle of my mandated time they didn’t have to force me. I gave myself. I wanted to be clean. I thought about my dad. My dad has given me so much, I wanted to give something back to him. He never ever gave up on me. Even when he said it was the last time, he would still visit me in jail and bring me things. I also realized that I owe myself something, too. A better life. Something more. When I was robbing people and getting high I never had friends. I thought I did but I didn’t.

What could have been different and how he will move forward:
Kicking the habit was something I had to do for myself, but I wish my friends had told me that I shouldn’t use drugs. They never told me that it was bad. I also wish my dad realized that I had problem sooner than he did. It would have made a difference.

Overcoming my addictions is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I am still working on it. You have to want to learn it. It is a lot of change. It was hard for me. You gotta wanna do it.

I look forward to my future now. I want to be a cook and live a nice life without any problems. I just want to live a trouble free life.

Erica

Here’s what Erica had to say about:

When she started using heroin…
I started using cocaine at thirteen. Before, I was using marijuana and alcohol and it didn’t really work for me, so I wanted to step it up a level. I started using heroin when I was fifteen. I began using it to come down from cocaine and get some sleep. But I started liking the heroin high and started using it straight. Everyday, after awhile.

Why she got involved with prescription drugs…
Along with cocaine, I also began taking prescription drugs when I was thirteen, specifically Ritalin®, Xanax®, Percocet® and Vicodin®. They were so easy to get. I never had to buy them or get them from a doctor. I would just get them from friends who had gone through their parent’s medicine cabinet. I also thought that prescription drugs were “safer” than other drugs. I figured that it was okay for people to take them, and if they were legal, I was fine.

Why she started using…
My dad died when I was young. I wanted to fit in with my friends. I wanted to fit in with my sister and her friends who used. I started sniffing heroin in the beginning to calm myself down. It allowed me to sleep. It gave me a mellow feeling – there is no feeling like it. I started taking prescription drugs, specifically Vicodin, to try something new. I also took OxyContin®, but always preferred heroin.

The role drugs played in her social life…
Most of my friends did not do drugs, however, a select few did, and those are the friends I saw everyday. Basically, I became friends with them because they were using. If I didn’t use, I would never have befriended them. They were the kind of people who used others and were sneaky. We teamed together to get what we wanted, at whatever cost.

Her initial fear of heroin and thoughts on addiction…
I was scared of heroin at the beginning. There were certain things I said I would never try, never do. Heroin is one of the things I said I wouldn’t ever do. But when it came to getting high, my morals and beliefs were out the window. I don’t think the thought of addiction ever crossed my mind. I didn’t think that I would go the lengths I did to get high. I never thought I would do those things. I never thought it would go that far.

How her addiction escalated…
Like I said, prescription drugs were incredibly easy to get from friends, and it always seemed to be a last-minute thing. Heroin was also easy to get – all I had to do was go into the city and buy it. In the areas I would go to cop it, it was on every street corner and it was cheap. It was only seven or eight dollars a bag. My heroin use started spiraling out of control. I stopped going to school. I was leaving home for days at a time.

Recognizing the signs of her addiction…
My mom asked me if I was taking drugs, but of course I lied to her. For such a long time, she believed me. She never thought I would do the things I was doing. If she just could have been more aware, maybe she could have stopped it earlier. But nobody’s going to know everything. People miss warning signs and triggers. Many will chalk it up to teenage rebellion. Breaking curfew, things missing, changing friends, dressing differently, etc. My family and friends did everything they could.

How her family confronted her addiction…
When my mom finally realized I had a problem, she knew something had to be done. She made me get help, and eventually, the court mandated me into treatment. It took me a while to actually want to receive treatment – I didn’t want the help. And then about ten months ago (Summer 2003), I did. The last time I got high it had gotten really bad. I lost weight, I had track marks all over my arms – I had been on a three-month binge. It was so hard to realize my addiction and even harder to kick the habit, but I was able to while receiving assistance in a residential treatment center.

Her plans for the future…
Now I’m drug free and ready to live my life. In September I am going to college, and I want to major in psychology. I plan to have a full time job in the summer and, eventually, I plan to be out of the program and out of the court system.

Something about Layne

Surely it's just a coincidence, but it's worthy of mention: On April 5, 2002, exactly eight years after Kurt Cobain killed himself, another tragedy hit the Seattle music scene.

After years of drug abuse, Alice in Chains singer Layne Staley fatally overdosed on a combination of heroin and cocaine at the age of 34 (see "Layne Staley Died From Mix Of Heroin, Cocaine, Report Says"). But where Cobain's death was met with a massive public outpouring of grief, Staley's was greeted with a general shrug of indifference and a complete lack of surprise. His band had been inactive for so long, and he'd been written off by so many, that it almost seemed like he'd already died.

It's clear that Staley's unwillingness or inability to kick drugs tore Alice in Chains apart. What's not so obvious is why his addiction caused people to overlook his contributions to music and why only 200 fans attended a vigil after his death.

The Alice in Chains sound — Staley's darkly melodic vocals and minor-key harmonies coupled with the band's down-tuned chug — is the framework for numerous modern acts, including Godsmack, Taproot, Puddle of Mudd, Smile Empty Soul, Cold and Tantric. Even Metallica, who said they always wanted to tour with Alice in Chains, have some Staleyesque harmonies on their latest opus, St. Anger. And Alice songs like "Them Bones," "Grind," "Would?" and of course "Man in the Box" continue to be rock-radio staples.

Alice in Chains' music has endured largely because it tied together timeless elements of classic rock and metal with passionate, well-crafted songwriting. Moreover, it captured the lifestyles of its members. If Nirvana were about the joy of destruction, Alice embodied the beauty of decay. Their songs were gloomy, cocky, abrasive, unrepentant and confrontational, and Staley frequently sang about being in the grip of heroin addiction. But there was more to Layne Staley than his incurable drug habit, tortured lyrics and unmistakable voice.

At the end of 1995, around the time Alice in Chains' self-titled final studio album was released, I flew to Seattle to spend a few days with the band for a Rolling Stone cover story. Originally, Layne didn't want to talk. He had been burned by the press too many times, and was interested in maintaining a quiet sort of dignity. However, the magazine wouldn't do the story without him, so at the urging of his bandmates, he relented. I spent around 15 hours with Staley and found him to be warm, friendly and genuinely funny. He wasn't a class clown, he was more like the dude who tells the next joke after the clown has gotten everyone's attention.

Fans got a taste of Alice in Chains' goofy sense of humor during an edition of "Headbangers Ball" shot at a water park. The bandmembers showed up wearing bathing caps, water wings and flotation devices shaped like animals. Later, Staley cast a fishing pole into the aquarium and Cantrell was pushed into the pool — the band was booted from the park soon after.

During my Seattle excursion, I saw a sicker side of Staley's humor when, during a meal at an Italian eatery, the singer gleefully fired off a story about a girl who vomited on his friend during sex.

In some ways, Alice in Chains' frontman was like a mischievous little kid trapped in the body of an agonized artist. He carried a Game Boy around with him, which he played at every free moment. During a walk through Pike Place Market, he told me about maxing out his first credit card at a toy store. At home, when he wasn't playing one of his many video games, he spent hours watching professional wrestling and giggling at cartoons. Yet he also loved creating art, and for our first interview he proudly wore a T-shirt emblazoned with a self-portrait he'd made. He created a similar print of a couple embracing for the cover of Above, the 1995 debut album by his side project Mad Season.

There was a soft side to Layne Staley as well, one that contrasted sharply with his brooding vocals and haunting lyrics. He loved playing with his cats and talked about someday falling in love and having kids. He nearly started crying when he talked about friends who had passed away and expressed genuine compassion when I shared a story about a traumatic death in my family. But being in the music business hardened Staley, and fame scared him.

Like Cobain, he hated being viewed as a public figure. Most of all, he hated being characterized as a hopeless junkie — not because it wasn't true, but because of the effect it had on those he cared about. He was pretty unapologetic about his own drug use and was convinced that his talents and personality defined his character, not his extracurricular activities. He was angry that articles about his usage grieved his mother and sister and made his fans think heroin was cool.

Like many drug addicts, Staley would disappear for days on end. A week after my initial interview, I was desperately trying to track him down for last-minute follow-up questions before my story went to press. I had pretty much given up when the phone rang at 4 a.m. and a sluggish voice at the other end of the line rasped, "This is Layne. I'm sorry I woke you." I groggily tried to assure him that it was no problem, and that I'd love to ask him a few quick questions. "No, I can tell I woke you," he said, then added, "I'm getting ready to do what you were just doing. You can call me later." Then the line went dead.

I don't think he was really planning to do what I was doing. I was deeply content — curled up next to my wife in a warm bed. It seems like Staley was never content and frequently felt alone. It's one of the reasons his vocals echoed with such power and so much pain.

The beginning of the end for Layne came in October 1996, when Demri Parrott (pic on the left), his girlfriend, died from a bacterial infection caused by drug abuse. After that, he pretty much gave up and became the rock and roll casualty he swore to me he would never be — and for all intents and purposes, he vanished from view.

On "Sickman" from 1992's Dirt, Staley sang, "I can see the end is getting near/ I won't rest until my head is clear." Sadly, nine and a half years later, the body of Layne Staley was laid to rest.

Heroin photos

April 14, 2005: Mike, one of a handful of heroin addicts who lived on West 22nd Street, carefully measures out two doses. He and his girlfriend Jesse often fought over portion sizes.
(Photographs by Jessica Dimmock)

March 14, 2005: Natasha, who slept in the secret space behind a movable bookcase, bloodies her arms as she struggles for 45 minutes to find a vein.



November 29, 2004: Jesse, a heroin addict who lived in the apartment for two years, sits in her bedroom, about to get high.

March 8, 2005: Jesse shows off a photo she keeps of herself as a high-school student, before she started using heroin.

March 8, 2005: Joe, who holds the lease on the apartment, relies on his roommates to feed his heroin habit. Jesse helps him shoot up.

July 12, 2005: Now kicked out of the apartment, Jesse lands an invitation to smoke crack in a hotel room. She takes a moment to wash her clothes in the sink.



July 14, 2005: With nowhere else to go, Jesse nods off in Union Square Park, burning cigarette in hand.

January 6, 2005: Jesse’s boyfriend Mike, singer for the punk band Murder Junkies, reveals scars from cutting himself onstage.

February 8, 2005: Joey sells to Lisa. She and her husband, Ian, slept on a spare bed in Jesse and Mike’s room for several months.



March 8, 2005: Rachel, recovering from surgery after an eye infection spread to her brain, shines the light from her cell phone on her swollen eye.

July 27, 2005: Joey and Rebecca comfort their son in the kitchen of her Washington Heights apartment. Both of their kids live with her.

Arcticle

For years, a 2,000-square-foot, rent-stabilized apartment steps away from the Flatiron Building provided refuge to a family of sorts. Neither the stately façade nor the prime address offered a hint of what went on inside: “Tricks, smoking crack, snorting dope, shooting dope, hustling—it was a 24/7 party,” recalls Jesse, a pretty 32-year-old who lived there for two years. “You couldn’t close your eyes for a second. Every moment was survival, despite whoever or whatever you had to walk over.”
Old Joe had held the lease since 1973 but slept on the couch after his housemates took his bedroom. Everyone thought he came from money, and when times were good he grew zucchini and tomatoes on the roof and was happily surrounded by young gay men. Things went south for him four years ago, when one of them—his boyfriend—jumped out of the apartment window. Soon Joe was doing as much heroin as others would give him and letting just about anyone stay for free if they’d help him shoot up, since he couldn’t do it himself anymore.
Sometimes that was Jesse, who was grateful for Joe’s hospitality after a decade of street life. She and her boyfriend Mike heard about the place from other users, but her journey there began in high school. Jesse had been home-schooled on a boat by hippie parents, and when they docked in Northport, New York, to take care of an ailing relative, her new life was a shock. “I didn’t know what Guess jeans were,” she recalls. “I didn’t know what cheerleaders were.” Drugs gave her an identity.
At Joe’s place, she shared a bedroom with Mike, the singer for the punk band Murder Junkies, who grew up in middle-class Mount Vernon, New York. His younger brother Joey, who first shot up at 13, lived at old Joe’s place, too.
At first, Jesse and Mike tried to clean up the apartment, and Jesse worked in an antique store to help pay the bills. Soon she lost her job. When nobody paid Con Ed, they turned to candles or electricity stolen from the emergency stairwell. Joey got mad and punched holes in the drywall, next to a tacked-up picture of his 8-year-old daughter. Needles were everywhere.
“It felt like perpetual night—but not in that soothing, bedtime way,” says Jessica Dimmock, a 27-year-old graduate of the International Center of Photography who spent eight months shooting these pictures. “It doesn’t ever feel like it settles into stillness there.”
In June, a year after Joe stopped paying his $1,200-a-month rent, the owners kicked everyone out. Old Joe wound up in a hospital somewhere, and young Joey was last seen on the Lower East Side. Over Labor Day weekend, Jesse’s friend Sean died after drinking a bottle of methadone. Mike’s in jail, and Jesse now spends days in Union Square and nights sleeping on church steps. Compared with her concrete bed, Joe’s hellhole now seems like the Waldorf. “As crazy as it was, I was also part of something,” she says. “But it really got out of control.”

About heroin

Heroin addiction is a serious life threatening dilemma. It can occur very quickly among abusers who use heroin on a regular basis. This is due to the fact that tolerance develops upon repeated use of the drug. Users suddenly find that they are using more and more heroin to achieve the same high that they originally felt. The addictive nature of heroin is characterized by the tolerance a user builds to the drug as well as constant cravings for heroin. Heroin activates brain regions that produce euphoric sensations and physical dependence. Heroin is notorious for its ability to produce both psychological and physical addiction. Chronic heroin users will experience withdrawal symptoms when heroin use is discontinued. Heroin overdose is responsible for the majority of accidental drug related deaths in the U.S.

- Heroin Symptoms

Sweating
Dry mouth
Nausea
Vomiting
Increased urination
Track Marks in arms or legs
Itchy skin
Suppression of pain
Slowed breathing
Skin abscesses
Pinned Pupils - pupils literally the size of a pin head no matter how light or dark it is.
Nodding out - falling asleep at inappropriate times such as in the middle of a conversation.
Spoons that are burnt on the bottom for heroin injection.
Syringes used for heroin injection.
Tourniquets used for heroin injection.
Small balloons that have never been used but are tied in a knot at the end. Used for transporting heroin.
Small bags with powder residue on them. Used for transporting heroin.
Small pieces of burnt tinfoil. Used for smoking heroin.
Rolled-up dollar bills and razor blades used for snorting heroin.
Potential Negative Effects of Heroin
Restlessness
Constipation
Sweating
Menstrual irregularities
Collapsed veins
Liver disease
Lowered resistance to infection
Respiratory failure
Respiratory illnesses such as pneumonia
Reduced respiration; breathing difficulties
Tolerance
Withdrawal
Overdose
Addiction
Bacterial infections
Infection of heart lining and valves
Arthritis and other rheumatologic problems
Infectious diseases, for example, HIV/AIDS and hepatitis B and C due to sharing needles.

Heroin is an illegal drug processed from morphine, a natural substance that is extracted from the seedpod of the Asian poppy plant. It is usually white or brown and comes in a powdered form. Heroin is typically injected, but recent studies have shown that there is a shift in the way that heroin is being used. More and more people have begun to snort the drug due to its increased purity and the false idea that snorting will not lead to dependence.

Heroin has a long history of use and addiction. As far back as 6,000 years ago Summerian's referred to the opium poppy as the "joy plant". Many think that the Arab traders took opium to China in 7th or 8th century AD. There they used the drug as medicine until approximately the 17th century when they realized that it could be smoked.

Following that, the Portuguese and British supplied China with a majority of its opium. This made Britain the world's largest supplier of opium. What took place was that the opium was sold to India to then be smuggled into China, this gave Britain the ability to say that they were operating legally. When China realized what the British were doing they began to destroy the opium before it reached China which was the beginning of two wars. In the treaties that were written Britain ended up with Hong Kong, extra trading rights and sixty million pounds in compensation for the destroyed opium.

The actual drug known as heroin was created in 1874. It was originally thought of as safe and used as a non-addictive substitute for the drug morphine. Shortly after, it was realized that heroin was just as addictive as morphine and was not an alternative for morphine dependence. Heroin and other opiates that were not safe to use medically and served no purpose otherwise were made illegal in 1920 under the Dangerous Drug Act.

Every drug has different signs and symptoms of use, heroin is no different. Heroin users who inject the drug typically will cover up the injection area by wearing a long sleeved shirt or long pants. After repeated use of heroin the individual will begin to develop track marks in the areas that they inject most. These will appear as puncture marks that may be bruised or even infected if left without medical care. All heroin users will have pin-point pupils while on the drug. This is a reaction caused by opiates and is not uncommon.

Heroin creates a feeling of well-being in the user that they are not able to obtain from their everyday lives. When they use they forget about their problems for the short while they are high and feel relaxed and good. These feelings of pleasure soon turn to pain when heroin withdrawal sets in. Heroin withdrawal is an exceptionally painful process. This takes place when individuals who are dependent on heroin discontinue using. The withdrawal symptoms range from depression, nausea, convulsions, up to abnormal heartbeat and heart attacks.

There are different levels of drug addiction. Heroin is both addictive mentally and physically. The user not only craves the drug to feel good, but needs it to avoid withdrawal. This becomes a double edged sword for those individuals who try to end their dependence on the drug. Many find that as the withdrawal symptoms become worse they are unable to stay away from the drug, knowing that using will end their suffering and pain. Many turn to methadone to supplement heroin so that they do not have to experience heroin's withdrawal symptoms. In the end they find that they are either dependent on methadone for the rest of their lives or the withdrawal from methadone is even more painful and unbearable than when they tried to withdrawal from heroin.

Individuals who suffer from heroin dependence will find that attending a drug rehab is an excellent way to end their problem. Once entered into a treatment facility they will be detoxed from the drug. During this time they will be monitored carefully to make sure that their pain and suffering from heroin withdrawal is not to overwhelming. Detox provides the individual with a safe environment to rid themselves from the drug and begin to feel better. This is not the end of recovery though. The individual still needs help in remaining drug free. Attendance at a recovery facility is necessary to provide the former heroin addict with the skills necessary to prevent them from returning to their old ways.

Addicted story

Hello, I am a 27 year old male that is a recovered heroin addict. I am writing this to help raise the awareness of where heroin can take somebody, and that there is definitely hope in the continuous battle of heroin addiction.

I'm youre nowadays average suburban male. I grew up in a decent family, with divorced parents, played sports, average grades, and drank a little beer. I began drinking in high school, which turned into some occasional marijuana and I never felt there was a problem, I mean all my friends did it too. Then I went away to college and indulged in a little LSD and cocaine, and I justified this by telling myself, "I'm only experimenting". Now whenever one puts themselves in an environment where there is alcohol or marijuana, there is usually a high probability that some "hard drugs" will be close by, which is exactly what happened in my situation, about 8 years ago.

I was at a friend's house smoking some marijuana and a guy showed up with some heroin. So, having the mentality that I was only experimenting, I thought I would give it a whirl. I snorted heroin that night for the first time and totally fell in love with it. Over the next year when I would go home to New Jersey on the weekends, I would usually get a bag or two of some "Philly dope" and be on cloud 9 for those 48 hours. After about a year of snorting heroin I wasn't getting high off it anymore and all my friends were, however they were shooting up. So with my "brilliant" reasoning powers, I thought I would try this and it shouldn't have any effect on my school, family, or life as a whole. Man, I was wrong. After that first shot of heroin, I thought "WOW, where have you been my whole life?, this is where it's at". It gave me that false euphoric feeling I had never known before; it became my girlfriend, my God, my mother and my career.

For the next few years, I shot heroin every single day and was economically capable, being that I received a trust fund when I was 21. Eventually, I had to drop out of college because the heroin habit consumed 100% of my time. I ultimately had to move back into my mother's house. Right before moving back home, I spent $40,000.00 in 4 months, all on heroin. Not because I wanted to, but my habit had got so large, I thought I had to. This damn powder and needle had its grip on me so tight that I needed to stick a syringe in my arm numerous times throughout the day just to function. It was extremely sick and twisted.

Well, the money ran out so I had to find other ways to support this devilish habit. I began by driving friends around to bulk stores and supermarkets to steal, and eventually I joined in. This led to breaking into innocent people's homes to steal cash, gold and guns to bring me my next fix. All during this time I tried numerous attempts at quitting. I went to 2-3 day detoxes, 12-Step rehabs, AA and NA meetings, and had an opiate blocker (naltrexone) implanted in my pelvic area. I would usually get 30 days clean and eventually relapse.

This was a continuous cycle for 3-4 years. I had been dead on two different occasions and rushed to the ER because I over-dosed on heroin. I have spent time in jail for four felony charges of burglary and possession of heroin, and I have lived on the streets. All this and I couldn't stop, my spirit was so depleted. I thought there was no hope in the world for me, but I honestly wanted to get clean.

By this time I was completely cut off from the family and my grand-pops calls and says he would get me into rehab, either a 28 day deal or a long-term 4-6 month program. At first, I was scared, then sad and finally willing to do whatever it would take. I figured how could a 28 day program help a drug habit that had been going on for six years, so I decided for the long-term treatment center. Within four hours, I was on a plane out of the state to a place called Narconon. At this point, I was willing to go anywhere and do anything that would help this problem.

[i pasted only a part of the article cause the other one is some kind of advertising. Anyway he gets out his addiction and start a new life.]

Functional addict

I am a normal person. I wake up in the morning and go to sleep at night. I come to work and I read the paper. I know what's going on in the world and I clean my house. But this is not really me. This is my new life. Synthetic normality is where I have ended up.

I have not been born again, and I didn't die of an overdose and come back to life. I simply decided that if I kept shooting heroin everyday I would eventually become a serious junky. What most people don't understand about heroin is that there are two kinds of heroin addicts. First there is a "junky", which is what most people think of when they think "heroin", thanks to Nancy Reagan and the War on Drugs. A junky is someone who will sell their (or steal your) TV for a shot. They'll rob the pharmacy without considering getting caught, and they'll sell their bodies for one more sweet shot. Junkies are everywhere, but you probably think they're just homeless people. They're not so hard to recognize if you just look for tinny tiny pupils, needle scars, or a ferocious hunger.

Enter the second type of heroin addict, me, the functional addict.
If you think junkies have a ferocious hunger for heroin, consider spending every single day pretending not to be a junky. It's incredible work. You see, junkies live outside the law; they need heroin, period. A functional addict needs heroin more. A functional addict doesn't rob and pillage for heroin because there is a risk of being caught, and if you are caught you don't get a reduction cure, you get sick and are then forced to quit. So instead the functional addict gets up every morning and goes to work. They work overtime. A functional addict operates the same way as a junky in regards to needing heroin. The difference is that a functional addict has the ability to wait.

For a functional addict time is something that isn't shown on a clock. Before I quit heroin two years ago, I got up twenty minutes earlier than I do now. I never needed an alarm clock because I knew that it was time for a shot. I never hit snooze and I was never, ever, late for work. I would open my eyes and be in the bathroom fifteen seconds later. I went to work until lunchtime, when I would speed home for a midday shot. That shot would send me reeling, and I would head back to work to make another half days worth of pay so I could buy more junk that night. When I was at work, much like anyone else, I would look at the clock and count the minutes. But as a heroin addict, not only does time slow down, time stops if you need a shot. Working in a world where heroin is generally considered bad stuff is a bit tricky; you can't exactly be high.

A functional addict has to have the ability to separate themselves from heroin enough to appear to be completely normal. Hiding my addiction was not very hard because most people have no idea that someone can be a heroin addict and have a job. People don't recognize heroin addiction in a functional addict. The best way to hide your heroin addiction is to blame your symptoms on something else. A functional addict is a Hollywood film crew rolled into one person. I am an actress, a makeup artist, a director, and an editor. When people noticed I never ate, I acted as if I had an eating disorder. When I had done too much on my lunch break and had to throw up, I blamed my rush to the bathroom on my period or diarrhea or a vaginal problem. I didn't give a fuck what people thought of my hygiene, as long as they thought it was a physical issue.

As a functional addict you must be very proficient with make up in order to cover track marks. Do you really think Aunt Sally and Cousin Susie aren't going to notice if you're wearing long sleeves in the summer heat? Of course people notice that kind of shit. You'd be surprised at how often people see things that are out of place. Being functional means not getting caught and not getting caught can take some creative measures. When people would notice something askew about me, I would change whatever they were noticing. I never had anyone pinpoint what, exactly, was wrong, but people came close. I had to play director in my own life. I had to be able to see myself as other people saw me, and edit out all the things that might jeopardize my supply of heroin. An addiction is a sickness in itself, but being sick because you don't have whatever you are addicted to is infinitely worse. So I worked at being an addict.

Being a functional addict gave me an entirely different perspective on life. I mean, besides the fact that I didn't have a savings account, looking into my life you would have thought I was just a girl. I wasn't just a girl though. I did something everyday that no one ever knew about. Who I was at work and socially was my alter ego. I was pretending to give a shit about life because I needed and wanted my heroin supply to be constant. I was not an addict that surrounded myself with only other addicts; that's dangerous business because junkies are much more common than functional addicts. In fact, I've only ever known one other functional addict. Most of the people I knew and talked to and hung out with had no idea I was addicted to heroin. I faked my entire existence just to maintain my addiction. If I lost my job: no heroin. If my family or friends found out: instant intervention and no heroin. If I didn't pay my bills: no place to shoot up. Suffice to say that besides paying my bills, all my money went to heroin. I didn't buy new clothes and I didn't go to the grocery store. My secret life was flawless, and quitting wasn't because I couldn't afford it, or someone forced me.

Whenever I think of heroin, I think of it fondly, but then I'm lucky. I was a functional addict, so I knew when enough was enough. I knew I couldn't continue shooting heroin forever, and I know now that I can never be addicted again. I've seen what heroin can really do to people, and while throughout I've been saying it's possible to be a functional addict, it is not possible to be a functional addict and accomplish anything. In order to be a functional addict forever, you cannot have dreams. You can't think of a better life. You cannot be successful at the same time. You have to go to your crappy job everyday, and no matter how much you hate it, you can't quit. You can't look for a new job because you have to buy junk today. The best you can hope for is moving up within your company. With heroin it's either all-in or all-out. Whether you are a junky or a functional addict, heroin runs your life. There is no time for anything else.

I hate myself for missing heroin, but I just can't help it. Every summer I wonder if anyone notices my faded scars, to which I no longer apply makeup. Every morning I think about that purple Crown Royal bag I used to keep my works in. Every afternoon I wonder if Josie has oxycontins, morphine, heroin, or diladid today. I don't remember every shot of heroin I ever took, but I remember taking a fucking shitload of them. I remember shooting up with a plastic spoon and saliva in the parking lot of a bank. I remember spurting blood all over a hotel room before a Jane's Addiction concert. I remember using the electrical cord from a curling iron in my moms' bathroom to tie off. I remember heroin. I remember how fucking great it made me feel. I mean, there were some bad points too, but the bad don't add up to that one perfect moment; that moment heroin addicts live for.

It's been two years since I shot up, but there are a million reminders everyday. These little insignificant things that my mind associates with heroin are everywhere. Walgreen's and I have a very special relationship thanks to their acceptance of my bullshit diabetic card. When I can't turn left, I always check to see how long the street is, and if it isn't very long, I go the wrong way, just out of habit. I run red lights even though I'm no longer rushing to buy heroin, and I shake with excitement when I see confederate flag stickers on the back of trucks. I've spent more time waiting in front of a 7-11 than you've spent riding the subway. With all the time I've spent waiting for, chasing after, or shooting in heroin, I could have written twelve books.

I wish I could videotape myself writing this because I am shaking. It's been two years since I last did heroin, but I know if someone were to walk in with works and a bag, I would have that needle in my arm before you could say HIV. I miss it. Sometimes I wonder how I have gone this long without even dosing once. And I look forward to a time when I can dose again. I even know when that day is, and I am counting down. It's not until April though, so I have a while to wait. You might ask, "Why would you quit for two years only to take another shot?"

Well the answer is obvious. I miss heroin. I miss the routine. I miss waking up everyday and knowing exactly what I need to do that day. I didn't even realize how much I missed it until just now. Just now while trying to put into words what I think about when I think about H. Besides, you don't get addicted in one shot. I figure since I haven't had one for two years I can have a couple, and be ok. But that's a saga for another day. Actually I'm pretty interested to find out what it feels like after all this time. I'll probably puke my guts out.

I'm not going to pretend that heroin is okay -- most people who develop a real addiction to heroin never quit. I don't know the exact statistic, but I know this previous statement is true. I am lucky to have been born with the willpower I have, and as stated previously, I only know of one other functional addict. I'm lucky to remember what I wanted before heroin. And what I want from life is much bigger and better than one small moment of heroin bullshit. But that one small moment of bullshit is something that I can't get out of my head.

Erin Allen's story

Erin's problems started at about age 15 with alcohol. What started out innocently quickly turned into a full blown addiction. Erin fought her alcohol addiction for 3 years. She had been in and out of about 6 different rehabs, some of them 2 and 3 times. She had dropped out of high school and at one point was court ordered to a rehab in western Maryland. She was there for 90 days and while in treatment she got her G.E.D. When Erin got out she was able to stay clean for a year and a half. It seemed she had finally gotten her life together. She got a job and a car and she enrolled at Del. Tech. One night while attending an AA meeting someone offered Erin Heroin. For whatever reason Erin tried it. She told me later that she was addicted after the first time. The first time she snorted the drug but it was soon after that she began using a needle. Erin continued to use heroin for 2 years. She drove to Philly, into Kensington Everyday, sometimes more than once a day. She put herself in a lot of dangerous situations going up there. Erin was spending about $250 a day on heroin and cocaine, and she did whatever she had to do to get that money. She sold everything she owned, she sold other peoples things, she stole from her family and her friends. She eventually started selling the drugs to support her own habit. At one point when Erin was very deep into her addiction, she got very sick. She had a heart attack in Philadelphia, her weight was down to 98 lbs. and she had trouble breathing so she had to use an inhaler to breathe properly. At that time she was seeing a therapist who suggested that she start going to the methadone clinic. Erin took his advice. She went there for about 4 months but at the same time she was still using heroin, just not as often. She got tired of going to the clinic everyday and standing in line for sometimes hours for the methadone and she decided to get off the methadone and the heroin and get some serious help. She put herself in detox and was there for a week. Then the state sent her to a long term treatment center. Erin arrived at the center on a Friday, my husband and I went to visit her on Sunday to bring her clothes and personal things. On Monday Erin's cravings for heroin were so intense, so overwhelming that she ran away from the center, she hitchhiked to my place of business and she stole my car. She went to Kensington and while she was there she had the car stolen from her, she was beaten, raped and left in the streets. A lady found Erin and brought her to her house, cleaned her up fed her and told her she could use the phone if she needed to call someone. Erin called Pat, she is a family therapist who had been working with our family. She told Pat that she desperately needed help. Pat picked Erin up and gave her two choices. she could turn herself in for the car theft or she could continue to live the way she had been living. Erin chose to turn herself in. At her bail hearing my husband begged the judge to make her bail so high that she souldn't be able to get out, which he did. I remember her calling me that night begging me to bail her out of jail, we couldn't do it because we knew that this was our last chance to keep her alive. At her hearing for the felony car theft, my husband told the judge he would drop the charges if Erin could get some kind of help for her addiction. The judge agreed and sentenced Erin to the Crest. The Crest is a treatment center that is part of the prison system. There weren't any beds available right away so Erin had to spend 5 months in the wome's prison. While she was in prison we got to see Erin one hour a week. Erin spent Christmas in prison that year but not with her family because it wasn't a visiting day. Finally a bed became available at the Crest and Erin was accepted. She was there for 4 months when she had gotten far enough in the program to get out on work release. She got a job at a coffee shop. She would go to work in the morning and then back to the Crest after work. By this time Erin had been clean, drug free for 9 months. Erin called me one night and asked me to take her to work the next day. She needed to get some blood work done before work and was afraid if she took the bus she would be late. I picked Erin up at the Crest that morning and we went to get her blood work done. When she came out of the office she was clearly upset. She was shaking, sobbing and doubled over with stomach pains. It was like she was going through withdrawal. She told me that as soon as the nurse put the needle in her arm to get the blood it triggered something and made her think about using heroin again. I tried to tell erin to put it out of her mind, to not think about it. I found out later that it was easier said than done. We went out to the car and Erin put in this Pink Floyd tape and this song "Wish You Were Here". Out of the blue Erin said to me "Mom, I love this song, if I ever die will you play it at my funeral?" I said I would if I was still around, and that we had no reason to be talking about funerals. We got her to work and it was still early, Erin brought me into the Franciscan center which was right next door to where she worked. Erin told me she went there every morning to pray and meditate and get her head clear before work. We sat in this little chapel and talked for a while. Erin seemed to be feeling a little better. I didn't want to leave her but I had to get to work. Erin walked me out to my car. She gave me a hug and a kiss and she said "I love you mom". I said "I love you too". As I was getting in the car I said "Wait Erin you forgot your Pink Floyd tape". She said "that's alright, hold on to it". I watched her go into work. Later that night I got a call from the Crest. They said Erin never returned from work. They said if she wasn't back by 11 o'clock they pere going to put a warrant out for her arrest. I found out months later that Erin did call the Crest that morning. She told she was having a difficult time, they sent a couple of counselors out to talk with her but apparently they thought she was well enough to stay at work. When I got off the phone with the Crest I started to think about that morning and how much pain Erin was in and I got worried. I called My friend Pat in Philly, and asked her to go to Kensingtonj to look for Erin. She went out looking a few nights. then one night she spotted Erin in Kensington and they made eye contact. Erin jumped into a car with someone and took off. Pat tried to catch up to them but they lost her. That was the first time Erin had run away from help. Later I was at work when I got a phone call from the Philadelphia coroners office, they said they had my daughter, she was dead from an apparent heroin overdose. I called my husband and I called Pat, she came down from Philly to get us. When we got to the office it was the most impersonal experience I had ever had. I felt like to them this was just another dead junkie, this is something they see every day. We didn't get to hold Erin, or touch her. They just put my husband and I in a room, turned of the lights and turned on a computer screen. On the screen was Erin's face.

- Marie Allen

A page from Erin's journal

It's been almost 3 years of rehabs and look how far I've come. Now I'm putting cocaine and heroin in my arms. It's crazy how things happen so fast you don't even realize its happening, but just like the tide comes in and out at such a slow pace, you don't even notice the shore getting smaller. What in God's name have I done? For almost a year and a half I stayed clean.... Maybe I should rephrase that for nearly a year and a half God kept me clean...., no way in hell I could have done that myself, not the me that's writing at this moment. Its almost as if when I'm using I'm possessed by the Devil. I'm sure that God helps them who help themselves, but sometimes God must feel awful generous and helps those incapable of helping themselves. That must be what he did and is doing with me. I wish my ego was smaller then Maybe I wouldn't be where I am now. How bad do I feel right now? Not bad at all, but in about a half an hour I know I'll feel like crap and go through hell! I truly believe that this life is hell and drugs are the Devil.... but the crazy thing is they masquarade as an angel of light.... It all feels so good. I feel pretty popular and in control. That's how the Devil gets you, he makes you feel good, he promises you all the wonderfulness and beautifulness you've always wanted. He tempts you with an apple so red and juicy you can't help but take a bite. Well..... I took the bait. It was all the glorious things I had been promesed but after a little while I would get sick and have to have more and more. Before I knew what was happening I had sold my soul to the Devil..... But you better believe me I'm gonna buy it back. Maybe God can steal it back for me, I'll just see if I can work out a deal with him. Tomorrow is a new day, just like the next page in this book tomorrow is totally unmarked. Tomorrow I will start again, but first I have to get through tonight.

- Erin Allen 8/95

Shaken baby syndrom

December 4th, 2007, Jessica Sherwood had to do something no mother should ever have to do.At 2:29 pm Jessica made a very tough, but the right decision to take her little 3 month old daughter off life support.In memory of little London Marie, i thought id start a little forward..Jessica had a message that i want every one to know..

This is what jessica said:

IF NE ONE HAS KIDS MAKE SURE U KEEP THEM WIT U THE WHOLE TIME DNT GIVE THEM TO NE ONE THAT U DNT TRUST..... TRUST ME I THOUGHT I TRUSTED JOSH..... BUT NOW AS OF 12-4-07 AT 2:29AM SHE IS GONE.... MY ONE AND ONLY BABY....... AND HE IS GUNNA PAY FOR EVER EVEN IF HE GETS OUTTA JAIL SCOTT FREE HE WILL BE DEAD NO MATTER WAT......... TO ALL MY FRIENDS AND THAT KNO LONDON I AM VERY ANGRY AND UPSET I LOST THE LOVE OF MY LIFE MY BABY GIRL.... SHE DIED ON HER 3MONTH BDAY........
SHE HAD 6 FRACTURED RIBS..... BOTH OF HER LEGS WERE FRACTURED.... AND HER BRAIN WAS SO DAMANAGED THAT IF SHE WERE TO LIVE SHE WOULD BE A VEGETABLE.... SO I DID WAT WAS RIGHT AND BEST FOR HER AND TOOK HER OFF LIFE SUPPORT...
THATS WAT U CALL SHAKEN BABY SYNDROM REMEMBER THAT...

For those of you who dont know what Shaken Baby Syndrome is... read this: Shaking, jerking and jolting can cause blood vessels in the head to tear or burst. Shaken Baby Syndrome is the shaking of an infant or child by the arms, legs, or shoulders with or without impact of the head. This trauma can result in bleeding and brain injury with no outward signs of abuse. Often frustrated caregivers feel that shaking a baby or small child is a harmless way to make the child stop crying. However, a baby's brain and blood vessels are vulnerable to whiplash motions, such as shaking, jerking, jolting, and impact. The neck muscles of an infant or small child are weak, so the child's head is relatively heavy and the neck cannot support the stress of shaking or impact.
Shaking a very young child, with or without impact of the head, can cause irreversible brain damage, blindness, cerebral palsy, hearing loss, spinal cord injury, seizures, learning disabilities, and even death. It is tragic that healthy, intelligent babies are suffering these disabilities simply because their caregivers don't know about the dangers associated with Shaken Baby Syndrome.
An estimated 1,200 to 1,400 cases of Shaken Baby Syndrome (SBS) occur each year in the United States. Only 1 out of 4 babies dies of Shaken Baby Syndrome. HOWEVER, the other three babies will need ongoing medical attention for the rest of their short lifespans. You dont have to foward this, your not going to have bad luck in your love life, your not going to die tomorrow, and your not going to get good news at 11:11. If you have any heart at all, you would foward this.

Rest in Peace London Marie SherwoodSeptember 4th, 2007-December 4th, 2007

Cappottation

Alle 5.30 ora locale del 09-12-2007 il suddetto mezzo militare robyrea-tirana-mobile si schiantava doloso contro veicolo di bimbominchia 19enne causandone l'inversione dell'asse Z, ovvero cappottandolo come una scatola di cerini.
Il soggiungimento delle forze dell'ordine ha sedato gli animi, e fortunatamente il soggetto robyrea riusciva ad evitare (grazie ad un fortuito decadimento della soglia alcolemica favorito dal fluire del tempo) il sequestro della patente e la megamulta infame.

Si ricorda al gentile lettore che l'autista del veicolo non era assolutamente ubriaco ma aveva bevuto 2 medie nelle 4 ore precedenti, il che può rappresentare comunque un problema una volta entrati in contatto con il primo nemico del tossico: l'etilometro.

Il popolo esulta in quanto non vi sono ne caduti ne feriti nell'attentato al grunge.

N.B. la causa dell'incidente e da imputarsi al madonnacane che ha ricostruito la rotonda mutandola in una sorta di parco acquatico del diametro di 700 metri privo di illuminazione alcuna, posta successivamente ad un sottopasso in curva e circondato da curiosi pezzi di plastica trapezoidali di un ambiguo colore rosso-bianco.

Colpa del TAV.

L'Amico

She's a drug addict aged 5

Text of the arcticle:

A girl aged five is a regular cannabis user, it has been revealed.Her nine and 13-year-old sisters also smoke drugs and drink alcohol. The case is being investigated by the Northern Territory Family and Children's Services department.
A former FACS officer said: "The child's case has been referred to an assersment team. There have been no reports of physical violence towards the child - just drug abuse".
The Daily Telegraph has obtained photographs of the five-year-old about to light a bong in a house in the Darwin suburb of Palmenston. Her 13-year-old sister is pictured lighting a bong while her 13-year-old friend pours herself a glass of sherry.A neightboor, who admits to being a drug user, said the five-year-old girl helped herself to the bong."She lit it and correctly breathed the smoke in without any adult help" she said. The girl also smokes cigarettes. This is serious stuff - she acts like an addict" the neighbour said."If she doesen't get that ganja or tobacco then she cucks a tatrum - she throws herself on the ground and screams untile she can get her hit. I've worked with addicts my whole life but i've never seen a 5-year-old addict. I've seen teenegers and adult addicts and their stages of aggression - the behaviour that this child is displaying is exactly like that. Wer're not talking about one-off, it's not an accident. If FACS tested that child tomorrow she'd have cannabis in her blood."