I've been doing the tweak thing for long enough that I can predict and deflect dangers. I have been psychotic, homeless, desperate and victimized-all in my early 20s. When I turned 25 and realized that my life had somehow gotten away from me very quickly, I felt like the rug had been ripped out from under me. Talk about panic!
When the world seemed to be falling apart, I looked around my apartment and realized I didn't know any of the hustlers lying around in various degrees of dope-sickness. I was given the option of relying on sex work to survive.
"I don't know what you're worried about, Girl," said one of the boys. "I told you there's always Polk Street."
The thought that I would be considering such a preposterous reality suddenly hit me full force and I exploded in a rage. I beat the floor with my fists, gasped for breath and wondered how I had been reduced to such a life. That was the lowest I could ever hope to go with tweaking.
I took a few years off --- a little over 3, actually. Moving away from San Francisco and then moving back helped me to gain some valuable perspective on my life. I learned a lot about Harm Reduction and my own limits. I stopped blaming my drug use on some faceless "disease" concept and took personal responsibility for it.
Then I decided to use again -- and it turned out badly. Looking back, I realize that I was using to shut out some emotions in efforts to avoid some issues that had come up. I was newly HIV positive and dealing with a very painful boyfriend relationship. It could easily have been some of the most painful stress I had experienced to date.
Victims never win and ultimately, my reactionary drug use turned on me and I grew ill. Not only did I have to go the hospital but everyone in my life found out -- from friends to my mother. The last thing I wanted to do was involve my mother in my latest drama -- especially since I was pushing 30.
I cleaned my act up and started working in Harm Reduction and HIV Prevention. I didn’t view drug use as bad anymore and quit listening to the masses of guilty parties who espoused the War on Drugs. Then I decided to use again --- back to the rig that I had always kind of idolized. It's been about 8 weeks and my life is different. I have a few health issues and I haven't seen the inside of a gym since I started again. I am tired a lot and when I tell myself to quit, it's only for a night before my heart starts beating out of my chest. I may be addicted --- well, I'm obviously addicted and addiction scares me ---- I have never smoked, eaten red meat, drank whole milk or ingested fast food. I have always considered myself healthy, although some people disagreed because I drink tons of coffee and pick from only 2 food groups. But, compared to a lot of Americans, I am healthy.
I shoot meth every day. Some people think this is scandalous. I have friends that do it --- but when I look at their life, it seems out of control and messy. I don't want to end up like that --- I don't want to cross over into psychosis --- I don't want my family to find out.
But I can't tell you that I want to stop now either. First of all, I hate anyone who considers themselves in "recovery". I think the whole 12 step thing is a giant cult and I get as far away from that as possible. Been there, done that, thank you very much.
The veins along the crooks of my arms aren't too pretty. It's obvious what I do --- anyone who knows a thing or two can recognize a track mark. But I don't necessarily want to quit. But I don't want to suffer either.