❤️ Once Upon A Time - 1994 - 1995 - School Friends

UPDATE 

 

01/2008 - Adapted from Diary of a Crack Princess  

 

Hello all my non existent readers I know you will come eventually. I will email some other bloggers shortly and ask them to give me a cheeky add! 

 

I've been pretty busy recently. But, I have been sooo lazy at work. I'm finding it hard to muster the motivation to do minuscule amounts of work! This is not good J**, and I do keep telling myself this! Like a mantra, over and over. As you may already know, the UK is experiencing a 'Credit Crunch', which basically means 'Recession' in a flowery, Ben & Jerry's ice cream topping kinda way. I'm sure there's at least 200 people willing to do my job, who'll work a damn sight harder with a £15,000 pay cut. 

 

So I better pull my socks up. 

 

Anyhow, to my story. We will return to 2001 in the next post, but before we do, I feel it's important to give you some background information first. And that starts with one of my bestest girls,  the one, the only, the amazing, F**** 

 

I had agreed to meet my one of my best friends from school, F**** the night after I had scored the LSD. F**** and I first became acquainted at the tender age of 13. We had just started our convent high school and bonded over a neutral love of winding our maths teacher up. Not only did we share birthdays one month and one day apart, but we also had comparable philosophies that lesson time wasn't meant for learning, but pissing around. Our fate was finally sealed a year later when both our best friends deserted us. They had committed the heinous crime of becoming best friends themselves!  

 

Being in J*'s form class, our friendship formed soon after starting high school. F**** and E*** had been close since they started their private primary school aged 5. We all hung in a group of four, often with a 5th or 6th member, but we were the social glue entwining us together. F**** must have hurt when E***'s alliances changed from her to J*. They began going out, and even had pet names for each other. Each one of their secret giggles or private jokes provided us both with a stab to the heart, tinged with jealousy and sadness for the close friendships we had loss.  

 

Naturally, we clung to each other for companionship. If E*** slept over at J*'s, I would go to F****'s  Soon it was us walking arm in arm down the corridors, singing, laughing and giggling to jokes only we would understand. Our bond had grown so strong, and our love for each other was already immeasurable. Soon, the occasional catty comments, half jokey, half insulting ceased. Our negativity, the general teenage negativity we all get, was now directed at the traitors, J* and E***.  Or Chocolate Moose and Honey Bunny... Their chosen pet names. 

 

F**** decided to she wanted to stick a metaphorical two fingers up to Chocolate Moose and Honey Bunny. They had been spending more and more time together alone during school break times. F**** and I just reciprocated their actions doing the same. It was a cold, wet December afternoon and F**** was already waiting outside my science class when the bell rung for afternoon break. I was in the top set and F**** the bottom. I think their teacher was just as eager for them to leave as F**** and her classmates were, so early dismissal was common. We linked arms and headed for the hall. The skies were filled with a dark inky purple directly above the school and in the distance it appeared to crash the line of soft gray that ran along the horizon. The wind howled blowing up the skirts of the girls outside, their shrieks only drawing unwanted attention... A storm be brewing! Through the windows we could see the first large fat plops of water exploding on their impact and the quiet rumble of thunder was quickly getting louder. 

 

F**** was eager to hand me the letter she had written me, and of course, I handed her the same. It was back in the days before mobile phones and texting on silent. Writing letters to our friends who weren't in our class was the norm. I unwrapped hers quickly and it was folded four. Each fold contained another message.

 

 

1 - F 4 A & J 4 T (in love hearts

2 - Miss Casey is a boring stupid
twat... Is she even qualified?

3 - E*** is a stiggy twat who looks like a drug addict cos she doesn't eat

She's a fucking skinny rat (she was skinny!)

She has stupid 80's perm hair, greasy wet look gel, white ghost skin and acne (which was a true description)

Then next to a stick man a speak bubble saying - I'm a stig
The last fold revealed the letter....

Dear Bum Chum,

I hope your writing to me to, otherwise U R A BITCH!!! Hehehe. Ok, Im stuck in boooring biology and Ive come to the conclusion that Miss Casey is the actual reincarnation of the Devil. She's 1 thick mother fucker. She's asking questions and keeps looking at me, but that goodie 2 shoes L*** keeps putting her hand up. We're not supposed to be writing shit, but I am, hahaha bitch.

Im glad you got with T**. A**** told me he's fancied you for AGES. I am going to get A**** into bed. He liked me before that psyco bitch L****. We almost had sex, but there was no condom and I dont wanna bun yet. He still calls me. Ha! Ha L**** Ha!

OH MY GOD.. I forgot to tell you. Remember Friday at club, when E*** and J* didnt bother coming, even though they kept asking everyone to come all day. Well thats bull shit what E*** said bout her brother being in a fight. I went to the Arndale after school yesterday and guess who was there.... S******!!! No black eye, no cut, NOTHING. Lying bitches.

They're not telling the truth about the nightclub. Who would let them in. J* maybe, but only cos she's fat! HAHAHA!! She came to mine and we went to the park to get pissed and she wanted to borrow a nice top. Y*****'s a size 14 and NOTHING fitted her! She was too fat. The only top was this one baggy and you tie it in a knot at the back. On J* it was tight and I had to use a hair band to tie it up cos not enough material.

And E***'s an anorexic twig. Her knees basically stick out of two broom handles.

I hate their stupid names. J*'s called Chocolate Moose cos they had it for pudding, and E*** called Honey Bunny cos J* gave her some rank chocolate rabbit she had left from Easter. Skank.

I think we should have nick names to. That will piss them off. Youre now my

DIMEBAR

Cos I got you one from the tuckshop last week.

Ok, gotta go, Miss Casey asked us to answer questions 1-9 and I have no clue what questions!

Love You

F****

The break was short and during our mid-make-up top-up the bell rung. It commanded us like soldiers to our final two hour lesson. Again separated, this time for maths. As soon as I took my seat I began composing my reply.
Hey F****,

Ok, Miss Turner has made me sit on my own today. No matter who she puts me with, we both end up pissing around. Weird though, cos they all like messing around, but when I dont sit there, there always good.
T** rang me last night and my fucking dad answered. So I told my parents its just a friend who I get on with from club. Nosey parkers. T** wants just me and him to go to the park for a walk next Friday. So lets see hey.... Snog fest?

L**** is a bitch, she knew you and A*** had a thing. But she is a slag so cant help it. Didnt know you wanted A*** though. What about C****?

I NEW E*** and J* were lying. Oh Oh, S****** was in a fight and came home just as we were leaving. Oh Oh, he took us to a club to thank us for staying.

E*** cant even buy fags.
Ok my nick name for you is Cadbury's Creme Egg, cos you ate one when you were pissed at my house.
Lots of Love

Dime Bar

Upon reading that letter, our friendship was sealed. Although we didn't see each other much from 17-21, and stopped speaking 21-25, we're good friends still to this day (Jan 2008)
F**** had fallen pregnant at 15 and had her little girl at 16. She hid her pregnancy well, but at 7 months gone, two months before our GCSEs in June, F****'s secret was discovered at our Convent Private school and expulsion was the result. F****'s world was turned upside down.

Right in the middle of it all, little C******* was born in June 1997. C******* was beautiful with wispy blond hair and deep blue eyes. Like F**** she had the palest of white skin. Typical Irish complexion as not only was F**** from Irish decent, but the 14 year old father was too. T***** (that's the father by the way!) had been a bit of a fling. One of many F**** had already experienced at 16. 

My bestest girl, I love you

UPDATE 2018 - Around 2016 I realised F**** was now appearing with the ominous ‘add friend’ button when I saw friend’s, friends lists.

I had no falling out. We never stopped speaking on bad terms. 

This was us last in 2012. We bumped into each other. However, along with many others, people began to dislike me in 2015.

I have emailed her. I’ve said, I don’t care if she doesn’t want to talk to me, at least tell me why?

I miss her. But she has children, and I don’t really mix do I?

Miss you. I wish I could show your face, as you’re sooooo pretty. But this blog is all about figments of my imagination, so your existence is questionable.....

Bless imaginary matey!!

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❤️ 1994 - 2015 - My Drugs Journey

So, how did it all start I hear you cry? Obviously I didn't start injecting drugs at 13. No one ever chooses or wants to grow up and be imprisoned in the chains of drug addiction.

But it is true what they say. Ok, not for everyone, but smoking cannabis can lead you down a slippery slope of drug destruction. I can bet that 90% of drug addicts started off on weed or alcohol. 

For me it all began around the age of 13, 14 I guess. I was doing well at school. No genius, but above average. At the age of 13 I was delighted to discover unscrupulous shop owners, were more than happy to sell under aged kids alcohol, just to make a couple of extra quid. 

The intrepidation of having to dress up, pile on the make up and act mature to buy the alcohol was just as exciting as gulping down K's cider, Diamond White cider, 20/20 Vodka and later Hooch and Two Dogs.

Hooch and Two Dogs were the most amazing creation ever. Ok, in comparison to today, the still taste gross, but back then, given the other options of alcohol, these tasted delicious. To this day, I still detest the taste of alcohol.

Around 14 I started going clubbing. Back then as long as you had a pair of decent boobs the bouncers let you in, no question asked. At first it was over 14 raves where you needed ID to buy alcohol. However their was never a shortage of over 18’s happy to buy drinks for us, and plenty of bottles of water with speed added into them. However, soon I progressed to over 18 nightclubs.

I discovered my cheeky-verging-on-naughty, erratic behaviour could be diffused with alcohol, so it quickly became a weekend staple due to the defusing effect it had on my ADHD. 

Soon alcohol was boring and I wanted a new buzz. Around this time a few of my friends had tried weed, and I wanted to try it too. The thought of smoking drugs sent tingles through my body, the same tingles I get now whilst waiting to score. I tried my first spliff at 14 whilst comatose from a huge drinking binge.

Cannabis was the beginning of my drug use. Prior to this I was adamantly against drugs, and at the time I was still very anti anything stronger. I was a karate champion and more into my sports. 

This is where I got my high. Winning karate fighting championships. I was unaware I had the disability ADHD at the time, but doing 8-10 hours of a strenuous activity of karate, enabled me to burn off the ball of anxious energy in my stomach. This meant I only had the ball of anxious energy, the self doubting one in my head.

By 16 I was buying weed regularly. The lure of skunk and weed grew as I soon discovered, the girl who struggled to quieten her mind, had this feat easily achieved by this delightful green plant classified as illegal.

This was the last time in my life I slept naturally without benzos, weed of alcohol.

My cannabis habit is what prompted me to quit karate aged 17 for fear I would be selected for a random sample at a tournament where my furious parents would be watching to add to my shame.

When I reached 18 I would be smoking weed daily in huge amounts in an attempt to self medicate my ADHD. This behaviour continued until I was 24-25. At one point each cigarette break I left the building choosing the bitter UK weather over the cosy smoking rooms of the late 90's early 00's, and smoked spliff after spliff attempting to soothe my head, and keep it calm.

The furious wind froze my slim figure to the bone. My fingers would change colour from scarlet pink to a dull blueish grey. But the calming effect it had on my chaotic head, was worth freezing for. 

I was the tender age of 17 when I tried cocaine and ecstasy. I immediately fell in love with cocaine. However, as a McDonald's employee my wages started at £3.15 and rose to a pitiful £4.78, meaning cocaine was a luxury. I couldn't afford £40 for a gramme lasting a few hours.

Ecstasy at £1-£10 per pill and lasting all night soon became my drug of choice (DOC). I could buy 100 pills for £100 and I only needed 1-2 for a good night out. The week long depression ensured I would continue to use again come the following weekend. I didn't associate the depression, with the come down from pills. 

After a night pilling off my face I would  spend 1-2 days after feeling shit, achy, tired, initially struggling to sleep. The week long depression which ensued after my nights out on E, was brushed off as being normal. 

It wasn't until I stopped taking E regularly that I realised the depression lifted. Only then did I come to the conclusion it was the ecstasy making me miserable. 

I would use ecstasy 2-4 times a week. During the week I would take half a pill, or maybe 1 whole pill taken in quarters. Over a weekend I could easily consume up to 4 pills on a mad night out. My record was 8, at Ministry Of Sound New Year’s Eve 2000 - 2001. These where the days when ecstasy was a very strong mix of MDMA and amphetamine. Well, clearly there were occasions when substances similar to LSD were also added to the mix. The pills I have had after 2007 have been mainly MDMA, which actually make me quite chilled, even sleepy. 

The old school pills kept you up all night, chewing your face off, violently vomiting when you ‘came up’, which often lead to you spraying any other party goers should you not make it to the toilet in time. 

Over time the price dropped from £10 to £1, if I bought in bulk. In order to recoup my costs I began to sell them £1.50 - £5. Close friends paid £1.50 - £2.50, so I still made a small profit. As far as I was concerned I deserved a little profit, as I was the one buying and storing a huge amount of pills. It was danger money.

Acquaintances or strangers got charged the higher price. If we were in pubs or bars the price would average at £3. In nightclubs I could easily command £5 from strangers. I would hear them protest and I would reply 'if you see someone more fucked than me, who'll sell you a pill for less, go for it. Otherwise I'll be dancing here'.

9/10 they came back. I'd enter the club penniless and leave with £50 in my pocket.

By 21, my new boyfriend didn't like me taking pills. So this was a big influence on my DOC changing to cocaine. By now I was earning considerably more money, so spending £40 for a gramme, was nothing. Most of my friends easily spent £100 on a night out, when you added up the cost of drinks, some nasty takeaway to soak up the alcohol and a taxi home.

Immediately I was hooked due to the calming effect it had on my brain. It took over from ecstasy and became something I'd use on average twice a week. Apart from the first couple of times I tried it, I soon realised alcohol was an important component of this high. Without it alcohol the high would be too jittery, you'd consume the gramme quickly counting down the minutes until it was acceptable to slip off to the toilet to do another line. 

Agitated, with taccacardia, you'd clench your teeth or cut your cheek gurning.

Alcohol smoothed the ride. With cocaine you could drink larger amounts and not end up mortal. You were chatty, sociable, fun, coherent. The life and soul of the party. 

I had also dabbled with speed, English speed, not crystal meth which is slowly now penetrating the London drug scene. Our speed is amphetamine not methamphetamine and is about ten times weaker. It's known as the poor man's cocaine. I had also tried LSD, poppers and Magic Mushrooms.

Then at 24 I met an old friend H****, who was into crack and heroin and being the type of person I am it didn't take long for me to follow suit.

It only cost £25 for a session where cocaine would cost £20-£40, and then the alcohol £10-£20, weed £10 and cigarettes £5-£10. Due to paying a mortgage saving money was preferable. I would smoke a heroin spliff first, then move onto the crack, having the odd weak heroin spliff throughout the night, before smoking the majority of the b (b, brown, heroin) at the end of the night so I could sleep. There was no grimy hangover, like the days after I had partied on cocaine. It’s well known that when you first use opiates / Heroin their is a rather deceptive after glow for 1-2 days. This gave the illusion of it being free from the usual suffering hangovers I had become accustomed to, which would hit me immediately the day after using ecstasy or cocaine. 

I've only ever smoked heroin in a splif when I had an addiction to it, occasionally off the foil and I only started smoking it when I began to score my own crack. 

Before I scored my own crack I would smoke with other users who had subutex (buprenorphine) prescriptions. They would let me sniff 1/2 to a whole 2mg.

When I began to score on my own I didn't have access to subbies. I had smoked b on these occasions. Due to the initial afterglow, those 1-2 days where all I felt was a little tired from the ridiculous time I would go to bed after my night of smoking; I certainly did not equate the night sweats, irritability, mild depression and slight body aches that I was regularly suffering come day 3 was related to myself withdrawing from subbies or B. 

How naive when I look back now.

So I started smoking crack and heroin more frequently. ‘I’ll get a good nights sleep’ I’d tell myself, after spending 3 or 4 nights tossing and turning, aching and sweating. 

I can remember telling my mother I believed my memory foam mattress was the culprit. ‘It makes me too hot’ I’d say. Still not realising the sleepless nights was the result of me withdrawing from the heroin smoked 3 days ago.

Pretty soon I was addicted to B. But as crack was my DOC, I would always purchase more of this than heroin. Initially it was 2 white and 1 dark, for £25. Soon 4 white and 2 dark for £50. This progressed until I was spending £100 a day on crack and heroin. 

Having a mortgage meant getting credit cards with £10,000 on them, was easy. 

At first I would make it to work, but by 10am I’d be tired, groggy and yawning. Tears streaming from my eyes. I’d be sweating one minute and freezing the next. 

I’d take my lunch break early and race to my dealer. By now I’d be feeling sick, and incredibly horny. If you didn’t know, opiates surpress your libido. So when you started to withdraw, you would feel horny as fuck.

Whilst waiting for my dealer to meet me, I’d set my phone to vibrate and sit on it. I’d orgasm within seconds. And would get 1-2 minutes relief from my withdrawal. Once scoring I’d drive a short distance away before stopping to skin up. I’d eagerly drag on the heroin spliff. Then, I’d open my car door and vomit. For some bizarre reason, when you’re sick withdrawing from heroin, when you finally smoked some, vomiting was inevitable. I’d maybe have a small blaze or two of my crack, before saving the rest for when I went home. 

Pretty soon I would ensure I saved a b spliff for the morning. And not long after I’d save the crack recycle too for the morning.

Recycle is when you scrap the inside of your pipe out, leaving you with a pile of brown powder filled with plastic or metal scrapings, depending on what you used for a pipe.

At the height addiciton I would smoke crack and heroin all day every day. I’d frequently visit the disabled toilet, standing on the toilet seat and exhaling the smoke into the extractor fan in a vein attempt to hide the smell. I worked in a place frequented with members of the public, meaning should anyone discover the smell of crack cocaine, the public, not staff would be the first point of call for placing any blame. 

Pretty soon, I was on my second £10,000 credit card when I went to withdraw my regular £100 when the machine bleeped and ‘Insufficient Funds’ appeared on the screen. 

As I had spent a ludicrous amount of money with my dealer M*** he kindly gave me £40 worth of heroin so I wasn’t sick over Xmas. But by now I was so used to smoking crack in order to be productive, whilst the heroin kept the awful withdrawal at bay, I was still miserable and unproductive.

However my addiction did not decline for another 2 months. I was temping at the time and discovered I was pregnant. My ex made it clear he would not support me financially. So I carried on using until my termination in January and only began to cut down in February. 

This was due to my maternal instinct kicking in so badly, I practically forced my cat allergic ex boyfriend into buying me two Bengal kittens. The first, a cheap runt, who I could only afford as the breeder reduced his price from £300 to £100. He was called Sinbad, but I had a student called Tsega. It’s an Eritrean name. The ‘T’ is silent, so it’s pronounced like the Sega as  in Sega Megadrive. It means gift from God and during this soul destroying misery I was consumed with daily, I felt I couldn’t find a name more fitting. Pretty soon Orion Pax joined Tsega. Named after Optimus Prime’s original name from the Transformer Movie. My ex chose the name and didn’t disclose the Transformer Movie bit. Orion means hunter and Pax, peaceful. So I had my peaceful little Hunter. 

Having my two fur babies meant I could no longer spend my last tenner on smoking when I needed kitty food.

 

Slowly but surely, I began to cut down on the amount of smoking I indulged in. 

Having ADHD meant smoking crack did not have any detrimental effect on the standard of my work. In fact, I won two awards for the work I did that year smoking crack and heroin daily. 

Come August, I had to change role. As I was a temp, my role, which was the easier of the two in the college, was snapped up by another staff member whose current role was being terminated. This meant moving to a much busier site, where all the senior managers worked.

Thankfully a good supply of subbies came my way. I slowly stopped smoking B every day and cut down smoking crack to 2-3 times a week, mainly in the evenings, but occasionally I would dance with the devil and have a little smoke at work. Still pretty bad, but much better than 6-7 times per week.

By 29, I had totally rid my heroin addiction, although I was still addicted to opiates through buprenorphine. I had a manageable addiction to crack smoking twice a week until aged 30 when I moved into my parents house to sell my flat.

This is when the legal high boom had reached its peak due to a substance called m-cat back in June 2013. I had been researching nootropics, but also began to research these legal highs or research chemicals. And this is when I discovered legal Ritalin. 

Due to a huge increase in work load I began to use it. It enables me to concentrate, complete complex tasks, keep focused and working after 5pm endeavouring to catch up.

But I never did catch up. I started off inhaling the ethylphenidate but it ruined my nose. I quickly realised diluting in water and using a syringe inserted into my back passage gave a much better high and less damaging.

When I got my Ritalin I stopped. I was still smoking crack occasionally and I stopped that too. Crack no longer had any effect on me. 

But the lure of ethylphenidate and legal highs grew stronger and stronger. This also coincided with meeting a fellow ADHD sufferer who was an IV Drug user. He was gay, and used meth. So was not your stereotypical IV Drug user. He was incredibly buff, clearly a body builder, and took incredible care of himself.

This ignited a fire inside me. I had always wanted to try heroin IV. So I did. And then one fateful day I thought to myself ‘I wonder if I can inject ethylphenidate?’. So, at 5am in the morning, just as the sun was getting bright, after spending another night awake using all night, I loaded the syringe with ethylphenidate, found a vein, flagged (drew back blood to confirm I was in a vein), and pushed the plunger.

Bang!!! 

Life over.

From that moment, not only was I addicted to ethylphenidate, but from that moment on, I only ever injected it. I couldn’t get out of bed without injecting myself, and couldn’t sleep without taking lethal amounts of opiates and benzos.

I stopped getting my Ritalin prescriptions around June.

October I was discovered.

Forced into detox in November. I was reinstated on Ritalin, but instead of being on 70mgs, my script halved to 35mg. 

I believe this was really irresponsible as the psychiatrist in the detox was aware my use of ethylphenidate was so severe due to me no longer getting a therapeutic effect from Ritalin. 

I returned to using. One day I’d take 70mg of Ritalin, the other I was back to banging up ethylphenidate.

January forced back into detox. Unfortunately I met Kate, who you’ll hear more about later. But she lied to the psyche saying I used to take my Ritalin to go out clubbing. I’m a fucking IV drug user. I don’t go clubbing. How the fuck am I smuggling my works in. Regardless to my protests, my prescription was stopped and I walked out, returning back to daily IV ethylphenidate use.

In April my parents lied to my drug psyche (I have written proof of this) and I was sectioned in Springfield. I smuggled my works, ethylphenidate, weed and benzos in their and used daily.

Towards the end of April I stopped injecting speed daily. Due to the horrendous abuse my family subjected me to. I reverted to smoking weed, crack and heroin instead.

Just to clear up any misconceptions, I'm not on benefits and have never claimed off the government. I am on long term sick, but was managing a large project earning £30k. 

I have a mortgage on a 3 bedroomed house. Have Merc. Kompressor (needs work atm), had Sky TV, hot tub, bar in garden, rescued pets, gave to charities, 

I'm intelligent and have GCSEs (10 passed with 6 graded A-C), A Levels (4), AS Level, C&G, NVQ Level 2, NVQ Level 3, IOSH (health and safety) Qualified, CPCAB (Counselling) Level 2, First Aid qualified and a Member of the Employability Institute meaning I can add MIEP to J** the Junkie (MIEP)

This is as well as other weird achievements like a catering qualification (McD's), 1Kyu Karate, Level 1 in kayaking and I think that's most of it.

I don't have any children, care too much for my pets, they're pampered. My cats had every toy from the Catit Interactive range, a £150 cat tree, fed raw meat, cooked meat, tuna and cat food. Whilst house cats they were walked daily. They even had cat DVDs.

My rabbit is never caged and is a house bunny with garden access.

I'm a good kind person. I just use drugs as my brain doesn't produce as much dopamine and serotonin as yours.

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#iwillbefamous #thetruth #Itsnotaboutthedrugs