The Daily Life of a Heroin Addict - Part 1

Published on 1/31/11
Categorized in Addiction Stories
The Daily Life of a Heroin Addict - Part 1

This is a narrative story based on the true experiences of an ex-heroin addict. These opinions and actions do not represent the opinions of AllTreatment.

"Looking back 16-18 years ago, I cant believe what a monster I used to be at the ages of 18, 19, 20... Life was crazy. Heroin was in control. I was a slave to the white powder/power. They got me. The system got me.

Furthermore, my life was not much different than your typical heroin addict's lifestyle. All of my fellow heroin addicts lived pretty much the same daily life. Some were worse than me. One or two were better off behaving themselves while letting us do all the dirty work.

My daily life as a heroin addict always started off the same.

If I managed to get any sleep at all, I would wake up around 4:30-5:00am. Cold chills run up and down through my body. My first thought? How do I get $20 fast, and, hurry up clock, get to at least 8AM so that the business day can begin and I can go out and do my thing.

My mind starts racing and I start thinking, how can I get high as quickly and easily as possible? What can I sell? What can I pawn? I can't break into my big brother's room while he goes off to work because he keeps it locked with a dead bolt, due to recent loss of items and rolls of quarters missing from his closet.

What lie can I tell my mother today to get a quick $20 to get my first bag to at least feel normal? I could worry about the rest of the day later. I just needed that first fix to take the chills away along with those nasty leg bone pains. That won't work, I already used all of those lies last week.

I can't really call any of my friends because then we'll have to share that first bag of the day, and that doesn't fly with me nor any of them for that matter.

My mind starts racing and I start thinking, how can I get high as quickly and easily as possible?

I guess I'll just have to do what I always do. Man, I hate this! I wish I didn't have to get high. I wish I could feel my normal body again. I don't want to go out and steal, but I have to. If not, then I'll get sick and die... Man, I gotta quit this nasty habit... PLEASE, God, help me quit this thing... but not now, I got things to do.

It's 8:00am. I'm feeling those chills hardcore by now. I'm freezing. My body is trembling. My nose is running. My eyes are watering. My legs are killing me like crazy. I cant eat breakfast or I'll just throw it all up. I'm in serious pain now. It's time to go!

I put on the same clothing I wore yesterday, the day before, and the day before that. I don't care. I'm on a mission.

I grab my keys, cigarettes, lighter, my flat head screw driver and I'm out the door. I start walking fast downtown, towards the hospital parking lot.

As I get closer to the cars I'm watching the security camera. My heart is racing like crazy. My heart beats now even as I write this 17 years later.

Once that camera turns, I'm goin in. I don't really care if there are people near by. I'll be gone by the time they tell the security guards. I hope I don't get caught. I cant go to jail today. I'll die sick in jail. Just do what you gotta do. Get in and get out fast!

Where's that GM car with the factory system? There it is! Camera? Looking the other way. Go, go, go! I kneel down, pop the door lock open in seconds.

I take a quick look around, get in and break that tilt box, pop off the gear ball, pull the teeth back and start her up. I'm out of here!

Off to the dope spot! I'm trying to drive normal while keeping an eye out for the cops. Oh my God, oh my God, there comes 5-0 now, keep cool, light up a cig and keep driving normal. Cigarettes taste bad when you're dope sick.

At the same time, I'm thinking, Please, God, don't let me get caught now; not today. I swear tomorrow I'll quit for sure! I promise I will. Yeah, right...

Don't even look at them. Just keep driving.

Going across town in a stolen car was a mission all by itself since car theft was at an all time high in those days. Cops where always looking out for Latinos in nice cars.

Finally, made it to the main junk yard. I'll pull over right here and take the factory radio out, put it under my jacket and walk across the street. I walk in like I work there, put the radio down behind the counter. They already know me. I've been there almost every day the week before and for the past years. We make eye contact, I point to the radio and that's it.

Wait a few minutes, they give me $25 and I'm out the door.

..."

 

Read "The Daily Life of a Heroin Addict - Part 2".

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