❤️ February 2015 - June 2015 - Once Upon a Time - Ethylphenidate Addiction

Due to my two failed detoxes, my parents decided my failure was enough to have the whole of the U.K. turn against me.

It's desperately sad, read any book on addiction and you'll see the addict fail time after time, Gloria Estafan style.

Whilst I never suffered from psychosis, I did suffer from mania, and became often wild and disillusioned during these phases. 

I'd sellotape my gear to my thigh, wear my onesie. Dressing gown, get into bed... Otherwise my gear would be stolen as I slept.

When the whole world tried to convince me I was mad. Even my Psych agreed a junkie would never lose, contaminated or piss around with their stash. Unlike text book psychosis, if I didn't do this, mine would be stolen or contaminated. 

I also did this with my pins as mine got damaged by psychosis too. Meaning I couldn't flag and suffered horrendously from missed shots.

Even when I would try to sleep, they would push and push me, sending me more and more manic, I was acting animalistic.

Rolling a spliff to help me sleep, only to find it ripped in to two pieces seconds later. 

I'd leave my house or my parents' house, only to find the street Spring into action, just like when I was an extra on Eastenders. 

The same faces passing me time and time again. However, unlike Eastenders, they rarely had any believable acting skills. They would anxiously stare at me, quickly looking away should my sparkling green eyes, with mildly expanded pupils, catch theirs, they would look away with a sheer aroma of anxiety. Well 90%, some of the younger, mainly those from an Asian ethnicity would taunt me, shouting abuse on one end of the scale, or flirting with an injected, erratic, enthusiastic nature; appearing extremely unnatural; certainly not a behaviour I had experienced in my previous 33 years on earth.

'I'm sober you dick wads!' I'd repeat my mantra in my head, often shouting out to the Junkette's I would frequently see. The frustration, especially when I was sober caused me to think fuck this! If I'm  living in crazy town, I'm having the drugs which are supposedly taking me there.

So I used and used. In public, in bushes, in rubbish bins, in bin sheds, in overgrown back passages leading to garages, in McDonald's toilets, in pub toilets, if dark, crouched between two vehicles underneath the orange glow of the street lights. 

I'd use in the shelters conveniently made for me at the park. I'd use on the bus. Sneaking my hand into my bag, prepping my shot and using a vein from my hand.Carefully inserting the needle when I  knew I had reached a traffic light giving me enough time to do so.