Methadone & Me

It's 5 a.m.  I'm sitting in my truck looking out the window.  There's a Doral 120 hanging out of my mouth.  I'm sick.  I didn't sleep last night.  My body is covered with sweat.  The smoke from my cigarette is rolling into my eyes and they burn.  My nose is running.  My boots are untied.  One lace is shut in the door.  I didn't have the energy to bend over and tie them.  I take a final drag off the cig, then flick it out the window. 

Cars begin to pull in around me.  Before long a 'closed' sign is flipped to 'open'.  I roll up my window with the last bit of energy I can muster.  Then get out to take my place in line.  I'm not sure if I even want to be here, but I need help.  Looking at the others in line, I see me.  A whole lot of fucked-up people.  There is a mother pushing a stroller with her baby.  A guy my age.  An old man with a walker.  People of all ages and races. 

It is now 6 a.m.  Once I am inside I am handed a questionaire.  I sit down to fill it out. 

How long have I been using?  What is my drug of choice?  How many milligrams do I use a day?  Do I drink on top of the drug use? 

I fill this out and turn it in at the desk.  A nurse takes me to a room for a physical.  She takes a urine sample and while it's being analized she goes over more questions. 

On a low end I use 500 milligrams of oxycodone a day.  But, I use up to 1,000 and even more.  When I am out of prescription doses, I buy street heroin.  Lately, I have been smoking crack as well.  I also smoke the heroin. 

Today, I am at a methadone clinic.  I was told to come to the clinic in a state of withdrawal.  I am.  My urine shows I have all the drugs in my system I claimed to be using.  The nurse then walks me to a small window and hands me a small cup.  "Drink this," she directs.  I have just been dosed with the drug methadone.

By the time I leave the clinic the shakes are gone.  I don't feel sick an hour later.  Only empty.  I'm not 'high'.  I'm not sick.  I feel dull.  Is this what 'normal' feels like?  I don't know...I forgot. 

My day continues...

Later in the afternoon a friend throws me some roxycodone.  I chew them all at once, then take a blast of crack.  Now I'm in a better state of mind.  For the first time today, the beast is happy and allows me to smile.  I light another Doral 120 and smoke it to the filter.  Long, deep drags.

I continued through the next week like this.  'Dosing' at the clinic at 6 a.m. then using whatever is available as the day progresses.  Methadone is designed with users like me in mind.  Once it is in your system, it becomes an opiate blocker.  After a week of morning doses of this drug, the street drugs no longer get me high. I am still a junkie and try.  I would spend my money on crack, or a bag of heroin.  I was using it with no effect.  I can't get high.  All I get is pissed.

This causes me to drink more.  The alcohol still works...only after I have drank myself to black out.  So that's what I do.  People marvel at how much I can drink.  I am a machine.  Now I have yet another problem.  I drink too much.  I continue like this. 

The clinic has upped my dosage.  I hear methadone is just as addictive as opiates.  Withdrawal from opiates is 3-5 days of hell on wheels.  I've been there.  Methadone is 30 days of hell.  That's not cool.  But, by daily dose of methadone is 12 bucks...my daily does of opiates runs in the hundreds.  What should I do?  A week later I quit the clinic and hit the opiates harder than ever. 

Opiates and narcotics are the drugs that consumed me.  I couldn't find the strength to get free.  They are also the easiest for me to conceal while 'under the influence'.  I told my woman this the other day...catch me sucking a Doral down to the filter?  Give me a drug test.  That's not a joke. 

I always want to be better.  For me and everyone who loves me.  Basically, I've put myself on probation.  I'm a fan of preventative maintenance and short leashes.  Not many guys are...I know.  I can't live like most guys.  I need my woman in my shit.  Not many dudes like that either.  This dude loves it.  What God, my momma and my boo can't handle?  Ha!  It isn't much.