Friday, 30 December 2011


Well that's another year over, not just 2011 but another year of my life. I was born on new years eve so its kind of  a double celebration for me. People often ask me if I resent having a birthday on this day, my answer is always "no I wouldn't change it even if I could". Apart from not knowing any different I've never had to organise a party as the whole world is already having one and I find that most people are genuinely having a good time even if they can't always remember half of it the following day. It's just nice to be able to wrap up the year and start afresh, if only.

It seems a lot of people are glad to see the back 2011as it's been such a bad year. Whether or not 2012 is  going to be any better we will just have to wait and see. Quite a lot of the addicts I know are on the sick and it seems that most of them have received letters this month informing them their claims have been re-assessed and  they now score nil points, meaning their claims will be terminated on the 31st . One friend has already appealed and is waiting for a decision, this is what everyone will need to do unless of course they're happy to change over to JSA. Which apart from being less money means they will have to go through the bullshit motions of pretending to look for jobs that aren't really there or if they're really unlucky they'll be forced into some minimum-wage job with no way out. The main reason I went self employed is that the dole caught me out when I said I'd gone for some shitty job when I hadn't. It was either sign up for a scheme they were doing at the time where they gave me £50 a week for the 1st 4months or go through some kind of tribunal about not fulfilling my Job Seekers Contract which I would have lost along with my benefit. I was lucky it worked out quite well as I had plenty of work in the pipeline.

Somebody told me that in Portugal any able bodied person gets benefit for the 1st couple of months regardless. After that you have to work on the highways for your benefit of 100 euroes per week and they'll give you any time off you need to find further employment. After 12weeks of this you're cut off and on your own. Imagine if they tried that here. There's plenty of work shy fuckers who've never contributed a bean to this society yet are quite happy to keep on sucking up benefits. I'd love to see them having to work for their hand outs.

The "people" in their "wisdom" have given us a Tory government and they're planning on some major cuts. We've seen some already but they've really only just begun, the welfare state is gonna be shredded to pieces along with hospitals, schools and all sort of services that people really depend upon. The Tories would have us believe that the private sector will provide all....As if.  As a country we owned The Northern Rock bank which in a few years will be making profit again, profit for the taxpayers, so what do they do ? sell it to the private sector, placing all future profits into the hands of a few. And this is probably gonna be what happens to the stakes we have in the big high street banks that make millions and give away millions in bonuses to fat cat failures.

Anyway that's enough of my moaning, for this year anyway.
My best wishes go out to anyone who made it to the end of this post


Thursday, 22 December 2011

Message in a Bottle

It had been another great night at the Hippo Club, mdma was still coursing through our veins, Marc, Doug and myself headed back to mine for a smoke, Lou was still up when we arrived but she soon retreated to bed once she realised she had a bunch of raving loons in her living room. Marc started rooting around in his pockets until he eventually produced a small zippy bag containing three black dots.
"Microdots boys, fresh as you like!"
"Nice one"
 After about half an hour we found out just how fresh that acid really was.

The walls in the flat started to close in so we decided to take a walk. I was living in central Cardiff at the time,5 minutes walk away was Castle Park, a beautifully landscaped park and gardens right in the middle of the city. Running through the park was the river Taff a tidal river that only ran for a few miles further where it reaches the estuary to the Bristol Channel.

 The sky came to life with colours as the sun began to rise . The three of us were stood rooted to the ground as we simultaneously realised we were all staring at the same sequence of events. Above the castle battlements and beyond the church spires and the office blocks a seagull would appear, then two, then three, then a whole flock. As the flock began to disappear another single gull would be a few seconds behind, followed by two more, then three, then another flock, etc.etc.Their papery forms seemed to twist and turn in and out of reality as we were beginning to think we were stuck in some kind of repeating group hallucination until Doug prompted us to take a look behind . As we turned around the sight in font of us took our breath away. There were 4 or 5 football and rugby pitches, every inch of which was completely covered by gulls, as one flock landed one would take off, there was hundreds of thousands of them , all coming down to catch a worm for breakfast ( I guess)and fly off again. None of us  had never before or ever again seen anything like it. We stood and watched them for a few minutes more but it seemed so surreal that we thought it best to continue our walk before the birds went Hitchcock on us.

It was completely light now, the morning had taken hold of the day pushing away all remnants of the night. The first dog walkers appeared and quite openly showed their disdain of our oblivion and annoyance at unsuccessful attempts to discourage their dogs from bounding up to us with their playful hellos. Doug was was on the edge of the path looking at the riverbank and pointing.
"Look, over there, a bottle"
That was a bit like pointing at the woods and saying "look, a tree."
Before we knew it Doug was heading down the bank,
"It's a bottle and it looks like it's got something in it"
Me and Marc just stood there watching Doug slipping in the mud wondering what the fuck he was up to.
Moments later he was returning with his arm in the air proudly displaying his find.
"It's a bottle and it's got a fucking message in it"
"No Fuckin Way" I said
I'd been watching Disney films with the kids and their present favourite was the rescuers so you can imagine what roads my acid fuelled brain was starting to go down. On the other hand it could be some kind of elaborate set up and people were hiding behind the trees with cameras.

There was only one thing to do, read it. We opened the bottle and eventually freed the note from its waterproof packing, it read

Hello, my name is Rhys Davies
My age is 9yrs 3months
I dropped this bottle off Llandaff Bridge
Please post this note to the address enclosed

With a huge sense of relief at not having to go off on some kind of rescue mission we came up with a dastardley plan. In a few weeks Doug was off to Australia, so it was decided that in a months time young Rhys would be able to draw a line on the the map from Llandaff Bridge( half a mile from where we found the bottle) all the way to Sydney, Australia and back again. I wonder if he sent it off on a second journey ?


Happy solstice Everyone !

Monday, 19 December 2011

Here we go again

A new batch of gear came into town a couple of days ago. I've tried the same gear three times from three different dealers each time hoping it would be a different one.
And now someone else has just phoned me to say they've got a really nice one.
"I'm not interested if it's the same stuff everyone else has got" I said
" No no honestly mate I wouldn't phone unless it was really nice"
"Umm Ok then"
So off I dutifully trot to try another one.
All I want is one decent hit before I give up.
HA HA LOfuckingL.........................

Another deal that went hopelessly wrong

The phone's ringing,
"Hiya mate, what's up"
" I need a quarter, usual place"  ?
" Yep no probs, see you there in 20 "
I had a new racing bike which I used to pedal around town dropping off the hash which funded my habit. I had my head down, in a world of my own, just had this last deal to do then I could go home, sort myself out and be ready to head off to Parcel Force for the night shift.

My phone was ringing again, but as I dug into my pocket for it I realised I was lying down in the back of an ambulance. I answered the phone aware that the paramedic was looking at me in a bemused kind of way.
" Hey mate I aint gonna make it"
" Eh, why not? Ruth's waiting for you"
" I'm in an ambulance, I've had an accident"
"Oh! is it bad ? "
I looked over at the paramedic questioningly as he could obviously hear the conversation, his reply was a nod
" I think so mate, I'll see ya later"
I must have drifted back into unconsciousness as the next thing I remember was being stretchered into A&E.
"Do you know where you are and what's happened to you ? " the doctor asked.
My head hurt and I could see stars which until then I had thought were nothing more than poetic license.
"Where's my bike ? and I need to phone work" I replied
" How many fingers can you see ?" asked the doctors.
After they'd decided I was in no immediate danger I was promptly put to the back of the queue.

After phoning work, I called a friend who graciously came to pick me up once I'd been discharged. I had a lump the size of an egg on my forehead and 5 stitches on the top of my head plus several bruises.. My mate said I could recover at his for a few days which was handy since he lived not far from where the accident had happened.and I was intent on reclaiming my bicycle. After a couple of days I set off  to find my more than likely buckled to fuck bicycle. One shopkeeper eventually told me that the hypermarket opposite took the bike in and as far as they knew still had it. As I entered the shopkeeper went pale and said " Jesus I never thought I'd see you again" and she was kind enough to tell me exactly what had happened. First she showed me the bike, its front wheel was a goner, the frame was bent and a peddle had broken off. Then she took me out onto the high street and pointed at the letter box. Apparently as I had come hurtling down the street with my eyes on the road instead of ahead of me I'd crashed head first into the open door of a stationary post office van picking up the mail. I couldn't believe it, that was going to go down well at work when they found out it was one of their vans I'd crashed into.

As I stood there watching the traffic racing by, my hand on my head, the wreck of my bike in the corner of my eye, I realized just how lucky I'd been. One inch this way or that and it could have been all over. It should have been one of those life changing moments but it turned out to be the first in a long line of crashes and lucky escapes.

Friday, 16 December 2011

A deal that went wrong

Quite a while ago, about 10yrs there was a drought, something to do with the war in Afghanistan, it went on for weeks. My dealer at that time had a word with her dealer and not long after 18 ounces of sub-standard gear was produced. It had obviously been stashed away for such a time as this. Some plonker had cut it with something very much like chocolate powder. The main thing was that it worked, it was smokeable, injectable and a lot better than anything else that was around at the time, which was mostly nothing. I managed to pick up two customers which both bought one or two ounces at a time, the arrangement was I charged £800 per ounce, £100 for me, £100 for my dealer (who was a really good friend) and £600 went back to the main man, all 18 oz's were mine to sell.

We managed to turn a tidy profit from this drought. Whatever it was cut with didn't really agree with me, I had 3 very angry abscesses and was running a tamperature so I went along  to A&E who sent me straight off to another hospital where I was operated on the next day. Just before the operation a nurse asked me what I was there for, after I told her I had an abscess on my foot, forearm and hand due to injecting heroin she looked at me and said I was a very  stupid boy, what could I say, she was right. I got out of hospital to find there was £400 waiting for me because business had continued and they'd put the money aside for me. However the 18oz's had run out, something nice turned up, we sold that and everyone was happy. One set of these customers was  from a once mining town with massive unemployment, high crime rate, highest ratio of people signing on sick in the country, in the welsh valleys. I was told we had some more of the nice stuff to sell so I phoned up the lads and told them to come on down. The deal was done and I was just about to sample the goods when I got a phone call from an angry Welsh man telling me the gear was a load of shite and they were on their way back to return it and get a refund. I tried the gear and it certainly wasn't the good one and I didn't really think it would be a problem exchanging.

I talked to my dealer and she really wasn't very keen on taking it back, the main man had taken the money and we had smoked a fair whack of the profit so I had the unenviable job of telling these boys that it was all there was and they were bound to be able to get rid of it. A couple of weeks ago they'd have been over the moon with it and  they had just been a bit spoilt with the good stuff, at least it worked. Off I went to meet them, I got into the car and their main man told me the gear was under a bin on the other side of the road and he asked me for the money I said I haven't got the money yet as we're waiting for the guy to bring it back, I was hoping I'd be able to talk them into keeping it. Then I got a phone call saying they would definitely not be getting their money back but how about a £50 refund. He started to drive off saying let's get off the main road and have a chat. I suddenly remembered the gear was under a bin so I reminded them, I saw them glance at eachother and one of them got out the car went over to the bin put his hand on the ground then to his pocket and came back to the car, there had been nothing there, something was wrong, very wrong.

The car started speeding up the road and their main man turned to me with a murderous look in his eyes, he asked me if I knew what was going to happen now," you're coming to Wales with us" he told me. Allsorts of scenarios started to race through my mind. For some reason I hadn't closed the door properly and I knew I was going to have to make a jump for it, we sped past the house I had come from and reached the top of the road which had a sharp bend in it so the car had to slow down a little, it was now or never, so I through myself out of the car and hobbled as fast as I could to the door I'd banged on so many times before and hoped for once they'd open it in a hurry. I received a barrage of very graphic calls that night about the pain tthat was going to be inflicted.upon me, thank God I never saw them again.

Thursday, 15 December 2011

The sun has started to shine & it hasn't rained for at least an hour. I'm sure this is just to make me feel guilty for not going to work. If it stays like this till lunch-time then I'll have to show my face I suppose, but not until I've had another bottle of beer. Oooh it's just started raining again, oh no last bottle, shit it's stopped raining and the sun is actually hurting my eyes.
 Thanks to the Sea Cadets who had a money raising skittles knock out event in my favourite pub down on the harbour last saturday  I won a crate of Smugglers Vintage Ale which is absolutely delicious. This beer along with a luxury length roll up is a hearty breakfast for anyone heading out into the cold dark morning for a frosty days work, after munching on a bacon sandwich that is. Damn it, I've just knocked over my bottle, thank God it didn't go anywhere near the computer.& that damn sun keeps shining in my eyes, is somebody trying to tell me something?

OH SHIT, the cat's just presented me with a half dead baby rat, now she's gonna have to fight the other cat (her son) over ownership rights to what is very soon gonna be a corpse, shit there 's a lot of growling going on. I don't believe it, she's lost it, the other one's got it & legged it out the cat flap and now he's back. I used to try and take it off them but they'd just take off outside or hide under the bed. Once he ran off, came back 5mins later without his prey & 10 mins later puked it up, I hate coming home to find body parts here, there & everybloodywhere, but I prefer pet cats to rats so what can I say !I live next to a stream in a rural area by the coast, there's tons of wild-life and they all eat each other.

About 5yrs ago I moved just outside of a once very popular Victorian seaside resort under the impression it was a move away from hard drugs. I couldn't have been more wrong, sometimes its been easier to score here than it was in the city, when my Dad tried to tell me there was a crack problem here as well as the gear I laughed, but there we go, drugs really are everywhere, and just to top it off  the garage which is 2mins walk from my door is now a Bargain Booze.

Well the Sun is still shining so I'd better have some lunch and go to work !

Thursday, 8 December 2011

        Whoever said Trainspotting the film didn't glamorise drug-taking needs their head read. It's an excellent film, one of channel 4's finest, the book however is far superior and comes a lot closer to portraying the desperate gritty reality of an addicts life. There's no sugar coated hollywood ending in the book or the real world.. I wish smoking gear would still do it for me because after 2 hours of self inflicted torture stabbing myself with a pin, covered in blood and finally hitting a vein only to find as I'm squeezing the plunger that the contents have congealed and I have to start all over again. It's been a bad week, only had one clean day so far but after tonights debacle I'm pretty sure I wont be bothering with gear for a while.  I HOPE!    

Tuesday, 6 December 2011

                Everyone has their own story when it comes to gear, hears part of mine.
              It's nothing original, the main event that led to the life-changing decision to consume as much gear as I could was a broken heart, I know it's a cliche but I really didn't know what I'd  had until I'd lost it.  We were living in Cardiff , me, her and our 2 daughters (aged2 & 1), things were starting to drift and an awful lot of  mind~ bending drugs were being gobbled. I'd dropped out of university but was spending a lot of time running back & forth to Bristol on 'business' matters. For some reason I thought it would be a good idea if  I went away for the weekend to a party up north in Snowdonia, it was a business venture after all. The party happened to be a couple of valleys away from where we lived when I was at college, so I decided to stop there for a couple of nights before hitching home.
    .         I arrived home, no partner, no kids. Phoned round to find out they were at the pub with the bunch that lived in the house opposite. there was nothing unusual about this and she'd said that they would be back soon anyway. I waited and waited, and eventually smoked myself to sleep. When I woke up the flat was still empty, I had no idea what was going on, but i did however have my suspicions. It was about 8:30am. far to early to go knocking on doors but I figured the girls would be waking up and probably wanting breakfast. Over the road the door was answered and I was pointed upstairs to where all my suspicions led, there was no stopping now, I could feel in my guts that my worst fears had been realised. I pushed through the bedroom door, the kids were there safe and sound and there she was in bed, next to someone I had thought to be a friend. I fled the scene before I could do anything stupid, although I'm ashamed to say I slammed a door on the way out,( one of those victorian inner doors with stained glass)smashing several of the little windows.
             Later on that day she told me it was the only way she could get it through my thick skull that she had had enough, I simply wasn't seeing what was going on right in front of my eyes. Too wrapped up in doing deals, partying,  getting off my head and taking her for granted, instead of appreciating what was in front of me. She asked me to leave, so I did.
             My world was in tatters, I'd never for a minute thought I'd ever be separated from my children and assumed likewise with their mother. I went to Bristol my home town. I had a lot of good friends there, people I'd travelled with, lived with, even went to school and grown up with,  most of them were on gear, exactly what I thought I needed. It took me a long time to get over her and by the time I did I had a much bigger problem, a full-blown heroin habit.
        Ps.     We're good friends now and I have a good relationship with the girls, one of them has even made me a Grandfather.

Monday, 5 December 2011

Is addiction a disease ?

Rained off work AGAIN, normally I'd relish the day off but with Christmas round the corner, last months council tax to pay and an overdue water bill, I really can't afford to be idling. Sometimes I think life would be a whole lot easier if I was on the dole, there would be no worries about the rent or council tax and I could sit around all day reading, watching films & surfing the net. In the past drug-workers have tried to persuade me to give up work & get signed off sick so that I would be able to concentrate all my efforts on recovery. I can see the merits of this idea & have given it serious consideration, but I've seen so many people become trapped in the welfare system with very little chance of getting a job ever again. I'm not even sure whether this avenue would still be open to me anyway because it's been completely abused over the years by people who just don't want to work. I believe absolutely in the welfare system and wouldn't want to see it eroded away by any government, it HAS TO BE THERE FOR THE PEOPLE WHO NEED IT ! unfortunately there are a lot of piss-takers in this country who persist in ruining it for the genuine cases.
Some people would suggest that I'm not a genuine case, that my illness is entirely self inflicted. I suppose this could be true to an extent, however my addiction causes me to repeatedly self harm, I obsessively inject poisonous chemicals into my veins time & time again with practically no regard for my health or well being, but because I'm one of the so called "lucky" ones ??? who manages to function "normally"??? in society ie. work, pay bills, etc. my illness isn't always taken seriously. I have problems accessing drug agencies & services for users because anything useful like counselling, discussion groups, general appointments, needle exchanges etc. are aimed at people who don't work, they're all held during the day. Even picking up my script can be problematic if I'm working out of town.
Once upon a time in Bristol it took me 8months to get onto a treatment programme, but if I'd been in trouble with the law, a prostitute, homeless, had mental health issues, had HIV or hepatitus or pregnant, I'd have received treatment straight away. I'm not saying they shouldn't prioritise cases but after 8months I could quite easily have gone down one of those roads.
Addiction is most definitely a disease which is debilitating both physically & mentally. I also believe that addiction (in many ways) is directly linked to the health of our Society.

Sunday, 4 December 2011

I MUST NOT MAKE THAT MISTAKE AGAIN ! I probably will but certainly not with him. "Beautiful gear" the text said, how could I resist but it turned out to be the same old shit that's been going around for the last few months.
Not once this year have I had any gear that has been anywhere near the standard it was back in early 2010. I know that people are still maintaining habits, getting stoned & even going over on what's around at the moment but personally I haven't bothered putting less than half a gram in the spoon since last Christmas & on most occasions I have felt nothing more than a mild buzz for about 5-10minutes. It does have a certain amount of holding power but that can vary from between 6-18hrs. I know that my methadone intake effects the gear but I'm only on 45mls + I'm on weekly pick up, so I don't take it if I use or am about to use.
"The Great Gear Drought of 2011" has certainly done me a massive favour. Faced with the option of £25 hits at least twice a day or a £7:40 prescription charge once a fortnight the decision is quite simple, even buying meth on the street would be a tenth the price of gear as well as being far more reliable. Basically, buying sub-standard gear with money I've sweated for has done my head in. It hasn't however stopped me from trying every new batch that comes into town & then retrying it a couple more times in the vain hope that something decent has turned up. I need this drought (or post-drought climate) to continue for as long as possible so I can build up my resistance to whatever temptations are put my way (I go 2-3weeks at a time without using) . What worries me most is the inevitable arrival of the promised article. This prospect fills me with a mixture of dread & foreboding, will I be able to resist when all I can think of is the pleasure, relief, comfortably numbness & euphoria that gear has given me over the years.
Indirectly the drought has led me here, to this blog. An old school mate gave me this laptop last Spring, then my ex gave me a dongle that was no use to her. I'd never owned a computer before & was pretty much computer illiterate, I soon got over this & immediately put my new toy to good use by trawling the net for info on where all the good gear had gone. I found a blog that I liked & started to follow, then another one. I've been told time & time again that writing my shit down could/might help me pull my thoughts together & maybe help me to gain a more comprehensive understanding of my relentless lapses & relapses, Who knows ? It must be worth a try !

Saturday, 3 December 2011

The sun's shining and I should really head into town to pick up my script. I've been up half the night struggling to set this blog up so I'm reluctant to leave without making at least one post. Trying to create a profile last night done my head right in so I've given up for now.
Been an addict for about 17yrs, I've been trying to get clean for about 15. I've always gone for community detoxes & amazingly I've always managed to hold down a job, though I have lost a few along the way.
Work & heroin placed me into a kind of catch 22 situation, I needed work to score, pay rent, bills etc. but I needed to score to be able to work, it's a vicious cycle that's difficult to escape. This is where replacement therapies come in, methadone & subutex. I took part in the brupenorphine (subutex) trials about 15yrs ago. It was a success, whoever owned the rights to it must be very rich by now as it has become a very popular state sponsored therapy, with some success I might add. I even got clean myself ( for about 2months) but that's ancient history now. I spent about 3yrs on subutex, there's a few myths surrounding it for eg. it's a blocker for opiates, this is untrue, it's a partial blocker, very high doses will block opiates eg.16+mgs but normal doses anything up to 8mgs will just dampen the effects of gear. Another myth was that you would go into withdrawal if you used on top. This can actually happen but only if you take your first dose of subutex whilst you've still got gear in your system(this happened to me twice)however once the subutex is in your system you can use without fear of becoming strung out. I've been on methadone for a long time!
The good thing about theses replacement therapies for me is that they freed me from the work 2 score, score 2 work cycle that dogged me for so many years. It gave me freedom from having to throw all my time & resources at maintaining my habit enabling me to seek satisfaction in less destructive & more fulfilling activities. By the time I'd reached this stage I found that I would pretty much have to relearn how to live life "normally".