Self Pity Post

It's been such a long time you would think this post would be full of interesting developments.

No.

Nothing to report. No change here. Time has past without effect. Your correspondent still has a habit.

I get up at six forty five am, make a cup of tea and cook a hit. Two hits. I take one to work and hide it behind the toilet. My lunch time hit. I leave work at five thirty, head home and cook a hit. Gouch (the mild state of unconsciousness experienced whilst under the influence of heroin) in front of the TV, cook a hit about nine, nine thirty and go to bed at midnight. My working week.

Hurrah it's the weekend. On a Friday night I do my weekly wash and ironing. I sit up late, maybe four or five am and rise late on Saturday. Maybe one pm. I'll cook a hit and either go back to bed until five pm or gouch in my armchair. The result is the same. Saturday starts in the evening. I sit up late, maybe three or four am and rise late on Sunday. I leave the flat in the afternoon and buy a few groceries and a paper. Sit in Starbucks for an hour and read it. Head home about five pm and cook a hit. Do you see a pattern? I have a weekly phone call with my parents at six pm on Sunday. We talk for an hour or more. Sunday evening in front of the TV and bed at midnight.

I go out socially three or four times a year with a friend I've known since I was clean and my parents come to spend the weekend three or four times a year. I take a fortnights holiday at Christmas and spent it with my parents. This is my life. Without variation. Nothing new happens. I watch a lot of TV. Well it's on while I gouch.

I could leave this life and it would be a quiet funeral. Low attendance.

I say to myself that the responsibilities of my job mean no chance for a change. I imagine the transition from dirty to clean will not be smooth. I imagine I would be unable to hold down a job during this period. Certainly not my current job. I say to myself that I can't let down my employer in this way. I kid myself. No one is irreplaceable.

The truth is that my performance is not what it was. My confidence certainly isn't. Without confidence it's hard to realistically estimate your performance.

Oh to be clean. To have friends and a woman to love. To be a father. There's a world outside my window and everyday it passes me by.

I think my life will magically be all it can be just by being clean. Being clean is probably going to make my life much, much worse in the short term. I'll be a bag of emotional spanners. Broken and lumpy.

Any journey is a series of steps and if I want a whole life I have to get clean.

I have to break me to fix me.