Friday, July 30, 2010

And out the other side.

This time I came out the other side with a little less money and not too much wiser.

But that's all part of the deal. Now isn't it?

Yes, lists were made, food and other necessities purchased, money was certainly put away and bills were paid. Everything that needed to be done was done. Added to that was a medical procedure preformed on Tuesday. I'll just say that the medical thing created about two days of mild discomfort, but not too intolerable.

I have noticed a tendency to withdraw a bit more inside of my little cocoon. There have been a few, comfortable, dry, beautiful days that had most of the population going out to enjoy. I have, unless forced by sheer need, am hermitting myself away. Am I becoming agoraphobic?

Naw, not really.

Part of it is the physical aspects that make moving too far a pain. In a real sense it is painful to walk too awful far. I usually don't mind too much the trip once I get out, but it's the getting out that seems to take the effort. Part certainly is the uncomfortable feeling of running into people from my past life.

Or is that past lives?

Being a bit depressed, partly from the crack and not having any right now, could be responsible to a point. I've always been, despite my upbeat positive outward appearance, been mildly depressed. Well, occasionally crushingly depressed, but that is less frequent that it has been in the past.

Yes, I'm happy not to be that depressed. It was frightening.

Then again, I have been happier and crack is only part of that reason.

Some people has said that smoking weed has made them depressed. That certainly could be a part of the equation, and I'll have to keep track of those feelings in relation to the post. It is also said that weed does lower ambition and initiative. While I'm lazy by nature, it should also be noted that I did eventually get done tasks that need to be completed.

Not that any of the tasks to do are all the important to anyone but me.

But, in order to ensure that I have clean skivvies, I had better get with it.

Saturday, July 24, 2010

Not too bright.

Thursday night I wasn't too bright and was even less so last night.

Thursday I got a few bucks for odds and ends and used some to buy a 20 piece. It wasn't bad, but after it was gone, wanting more was nagging at me for the rest of the night. That was the worst of it. No IBI lurking outside my windows, no weird psychotic reactions or panic attack type of behaviors on my part. The jones was it so far as negative consequences, along with 20 dollars puffed away in about a half hour or so.

I smoked a little weed, went to bed and got up early Friday morning.

Don, my neighbor has a thing about hurrying up to wait. We go to a food bank that opens their doors at 9:00A.M. but doesn't start distribution until 9:30. I keep telling him if he goes about an hour or so later, you breeze right through. There is no advantage to being first in line. Everyone who shows up gets as much when they are first or if they are last.

We arrived at 8:50 and were back home by 10:00. If I had left at 10, I would have been back home by 10:20. Don likes to hurry up and wait.

With my decidedly unhurried and uncluttered social and work schedules there is no need to rush. As a matter of fact, rushing around has not been part of my life for quite some time. There are a lot of reasons for that, first and foremost though is that I can't hurry. Physically can't hurry.

It may also be a good thing that I don't own a car right now as well, as there might be an urge to over compensate for that physical slowness.

The money I'm saving on speeding tickets.

A little later in the day Don stops back with a bottle of the finest bottom shelf whiskey produced in the world. The name of this crap escapes me at the moment and if I could remember the name, I would never buy it anyway. I probably got down about six or eight ounces of the stuff to Don's 12 ounces or more before calling it quits. He took the rest of his bottle and left.

I wasn't feeling too awful bad and spent a few hours doing my best to stay cool.

Just as I'm getting ready to turn on the TV and watch the news, guess who's at my door again. Don and his occasional drinking buddy show up with another bottle. They pooled resources to buy some of their favorite vodka, which is decidedly worse than the rot gut whiskey I tasted earlier.

I didn't drink any more of that crap, and quite possibly less than the whiskey. Whatever the reason though, that stuff hit me like a Mack truck. I was feeling no pain at all and started becoming a little too wobbly. Not good

We visited our other neighbor, who probably had much better things to do than entertain a couple of sloppy drunks. He also didn't have the where with all to kick us out, although I witnessed him tossing unwelcome guests in the past. He was a little buzzed himself, so he seemed to be in a charitable mood. He gave us a few beers and we smoked a bit of his weed.

That's when the bottom feel out.

From what I can remember, he had to drag me into my door, as my legs were nowhere to be found. Later in the night I did manage to crawl into my bed. When I did wake up this morning I was in no mood to move. So for about 2 hours I lay awake, under a fan, trying to work up the courage to get up.

Eventually I did get moving and found my legs had returned.

The thing is, they didn't return happy.

Monday, July 19, 2010

Another Weekend Has Passed.

And nothing of much consequence occurred.

Well, almost nothing.

I had to laugh, because this is so crackhead. About 6 or 8 weeks ago I was ripped off by someone who was supposed to be getting me some crack. In some circles it would have been enough to get the shit kicked out of you. Actually, I have seen people beaten up for much less.

At the time I left an voice mail for this clown telling them to lose my number. I erased them from my phone's contact list as well. Good riddance, I thought as this person was just your typical, stereotypical crackhead type character and I was no longer comfortable with them in my house.

Yes, I broke one of my own rules about allowing crack smokers in my house.

Well, what was done was done and I thought I wouldn't hear from them again. At least part of me thought I wouldn't hear from them again. The crackhead in me knew that at some time in the future, when they needed money or something other from me they would call or show up.

Crackheads are so predictable.

So the phone rings and after answering this person says, "Hi! This is H_____, my guy from Ohio is in town and he has FIRE!" It was a call designed to plant a seed or strike a spark to get me on a roll. This is also a ploy used by some dealers to get some business going.

It's also a tried and true tactic of mainstream sales people to get sales.

To get action you have to make something happen. Create some excitement, generate some interest, catch a crackhead jonesing and let word of mouth do the rest. Merchandising, marketing and salesmanship cuts through all segments of society and all goods, whether they are illegal or not.

My response was "I'm broke for two more weeks." The call was terminated before I could flip my phone shut. I had to laugh, because the caller never even acknowledged the previous rip-off. To them it was like the past was forgotten because we have got fire today.

It also showed the desperation they felt, as the stuff, where ever it came from had to be good and they wanted to get more. They had no more money so they wanted me, or you or whoever had some cash to buy them more crack.

While the "beast" had some regrets that no money was available, I on the whole am happier today for that fact.

I think...

One other thing. I watched a movie online that shook me to the core. The movie's title is "Cracked Not Broken." It's what they might have called a trigger movie in one of the numerous rehabs I attended. The film is about young woman who was in the crack trap. She threw away her good job and white picket fence existence for this drug.

The film portrays a happy ending, with her being clean and normalcy restored to her life. The part of me that knows how that shit works doubts she is still clean.

I pray I'm wrong.

The part of the film that disturbed me was the fact that I knew that girl. Not that individual in particular, but that woman and the lifestyle she was pursuing in general. The hotel rooms, even in Toronto, were typical crack smoker's dens. I've partied with these women, gotten to know some pretty well and we have exchanged our little stories with each other.

After checking our cash, our stash of dope and all of our valuables, we've parted in most cases friends. There have been exceptions to that, but those instances have been a small percentage.

The other part of the film that disturbed me was her manner of ingestion. She was an IV crack user. Some of you are going, "Huh?" The fact is that there are some who go through the process of converting the crack back into cocaine so it can be injected.

Yes, I know the process, but it will not be described here.

Watching that movie and her poking and digging to find a good vein had my stomach in a knot. Not that I was triggered to use from that, but from having witnessed first hand that continual jabbing and stabbing to find a spot to get a hit dredged up memories I would rather have forgotten.

I have good veins and plan to keep it that way. That needle shit is too much work and creates too much damage. And all those tissues with all that blood is beyond unsanitary.

Just put the fuckin' rock on the pipe and hit it. Done!

If you want to see an example of the happy, carefree lives of crackheads just click the title to this post. It should be noted that Harm Reduction programs are alive and well in Toronto.

For me, that's not my life today and better is better.

Friday, July 16, 2010

No Crack Today


There is no crack in the picture for me today and probably for a few days into the future as well.

Today is dedicated to cleaning my rat hole apartment, washing some clothes, doing some other needed chores and sitting outside with neighbors. We'll watch the motorcycles roaring by and the people making their way to the Roar on the Shore festival at Perry Square.

I've also been given food for thought in regards to my attitude and opinions regarding my addiction. In some respects, those ideas have frustrated me. In a perfect world, with a perfectly functioning mind and an undamaged moral compass, smoking anymore crack would and should be unthinkable.

I am not trying to rationalize future use, but part of me thinks, as a commenter mentioned, I'm fucked. Another part of me has made me make note of the fact that through some manipulation of my resources, progress has been made in ways I never would have imagined before. These are things that have happened by my design to limit the amount that the "Beast" can consume and control my life.

This has, to their credit, been accomplished with the help of people who for some reason still care for me on some level. For that I am thankful. No amount of words could even come close to expressing the gratitude I feel for their help and for their apparent lack of judgemental ism in my actions, whether positive or negative.

I'm not looking for cheerleaders.

So I have things to do to keep a normal appearance for this crackhead.

I also have "him" talking to me, so to spread the cheer I'm going to go have a chat with my neighbor Don. He's the one with his jaw wired shut. His diet currently has to be ingested through a straw. Instant breakfast, Ensure and other such sources of liquid nourishment.

So to spread that cheer, I think I'm gonna' talk about food. Solid food like steaks, chops and wonderfully seasoned seafood. Food described in such exquisite detail as to make my own stomach juices flow.

Hey, Don! I have found a great recipe for steamed shrimp!

I'm certain there is a special room in hell for me...

Tuesday, July 13, 2010

What does a crackhead know anyway?

Things started out well enough Friday night.

A friend stopped by with a little weed and shared some with me. We had a senseless, but fun conversation about 2012 and other nonsensical things that people often do after smoking some herb. I was happy for the company and thankful for that gentle buzz.

Saturday morning started out pleasantly enough, with the temperature and humidity moderating a bit with sunny skies. Then I tried to log onto the Internet to discover my connection was gone, gone, gone. A repairman came yesterday to fix the problem, a broken or poorly spliced cable.

A little later in the day my friend who keeps money stopped by with a case of beer, which I requested and a few dollars.

Well, forty dollars.

So i did what I usually do when some cash crosses my palm. I called the Dude and he delivered a forty piece to me. It was the same old, same old with the IBI and the other accompanying insanity that goes along with smoking that crap. But that little switch has again been turned off and rational thought returned.

I laugh at my thoughts and actions after all is over, but....

With no Internet to occupy my time on Sunday, I watched some DVDs picked up from the library. I also did a little chef stuff. I made some pulled BBQ pork. It turned out pretty good thanks to my new crock pot. It's almost like not cooking at all.

I shared some with my other neighbor, who does not have his jaw wired shut. Hopefully he and his lady friend enjoyed those sandwiches. I thought the stuff was dynamite! No complaints were heard, so all must have been well with my recipe.

My recipe consists of adding appropriate spices and such that are at hand.

Monday had me traveling to the library to beat on the keys of their computer. I had a pile of emails to sort through and some replies were made to some. I was going to post to this blog but time ran out. Just as well, as my original posting idea was blown out of the window by another little development. Besides the repairman's appointment had me hustling back to my home.

It's just as well that no post was made on Monday, as I had time to consider the results of a suggestion made to an online friend. At the time that suggestion was made concerning dynamics at a family gathering. It was simple advice on how to act or react to an ex-spouse who was or is in the throes of addiction. This ex is a loony tunes type according to my friend. Also included in that suggestion was a reminder of for who and why the celebration was taking place.

According to my online friend, the suggestion was taken to heart and helped them enjoy that day. At the time they were not aware of my addiction or life experiences or the hundreds of hours spent with counselors and therapists. When a "thank you" was written regarding that advice I took a risk and revealed a bit of my background and the existence of this blog.

Many of you regular readers know how cautious the Erie Crackhead is about this blog.

So, I started to wonder about how this person may have reacted or heeded my advice had they known ahead of time about what and who I was. My experience in the past has been that any suggestion or contribution made by me to people who knew my background was invalidated or highly discounted.

Besides, what does a fuckin' crackhead know?

More than he wants to at times...

Thursday, July 8, 2010

It's been too hot!

While the temperatures have been tickling to 90s, doing much of anything has been an effort for me. No air conditioning, a few fans to recirculate the humid air and feeling sticky all the time sucks.

So what is a crackhead to do?

Well, he goes to the library and sucks up some of their wonderfully air conditioned air. He wanders the stacks and looks for something interesting to read. He (I) also cue up for the computers so some posts, both to this blog and other places can be done in relative comfort. Yes, I have been to places much warmer and miserable than what is being experienced in Erie, but you still can only take off so many clothes when it gets HOT!

I am in a great mood because of a visit from a close relative the other day. This person hasn't seen me or talked to me in a long time. Much longer than I was comfortable with to be certain. I'm not certain, exactly, what this person feels about that absence, but it hurt me to my core.

That absence was my fault, and I am trying to make up for that neglect.

Baby steps I guess.

After the visit, I sent an email off to them with (gasp) advice. Hopefully that is taken in the spirit it was given as my only hope is that they succeed in any endeavor they choose to tackle.

Parents tend to do that type of crap, whether it is welcomed or not.

Yeah, my visitor was one of my kids. That visit really did make my day, week, month and year. Actually the memory of that short encounter has me tearing up right now. Your not supposed to cry in the library.

People tend to look at you a little funny.

Tuesday, July 6, 2010

Some of the details are missing...

That's what one reader said to me.

The simply fact of the matter is this, too much information would be just too much information. Like the texters tap out on their cell phones.


Erie Crackhead does not want to give someone a bad idea. Like this is the lifestyle they would want to pursue. While the life I'm living at the moment is heads and shoulders above the misery I once endured, it was at one time much worse. A few things fall into the wrong places and that miserable existence I once knew could return as well.

Nobody wants that, especially me.

There are other details that have been left out as well, that could give me a bit of plausible deniability. Well, not a hell of a lot, but a little deniability. It also protects the innocents around me that might only be harmed by details that I might describe in this blog. Every person I talk about here is also known only by a psuedonym.

Some people will not be described in any sense beyond being called a friend or relative. As a matter of fact the lack of some detail was mentioned by a relative, who knows more of the story than what is published here. Then again, there are probably a few facets of my life that was a complete mystery to them as well.

But as I pointed out, I did not want this blog to be a primer on leading the life of a crackhead. If someone who is reading this is smoking crack, it's important to know how far down you can go. Oddly enough you can improve things in your life, but there is always that danger of falling down the rabbit hole again.

Some of the people mentioned here may never be aware of this blog, and that's OK. But their lives and problems are their own and I don't want to make a spectacle of them. By and large these are good people. They may have played the cards they have been dealt the wrong way, but that's what happens to us all from time to time.

Hell, even a person dealt four aces and the King of Spades can fuck that up.

We all have seen that happen.

Monday, July 5, 2010

Yesterday was Independence Day...

As in the Fourth of July!

Picnics, fireworks and get-togethers and family outings to the zoo or beach.

Well, for most people. I did what I usually do on major holidays. I slept through most of it. The fatigue might well be the new medication I'm taking for diabetes. It lowers your blood sugar and consequently it probably lowers energy levels in sloths like myself. I'm just starting on this road, but with a bit more attention to diet, maybe this will be a wake up call.

Yeah, some more exercise might be in cards as well. They say it helps to boost ones metabolism. It also produces natural chemicals to put you in a better mood. Endorphins and other brain feel good chemicals.

I'm too lazy right now to list them all, but a Google search will get you up to speed.

Of course my sluggishness may be the product of doing some recreational drugs as well. A little beer, a little pot, a little too much crack and a touch of oxycodone.

Basically some vicodens from Don.

This started Friday night with a few beers out of my front door with a few neighbors. A little gathering of the denizens of our little tenement. Some beers, a little weed and a bit of entertainment at the expense of us all. Self deprecating humor is good for the soul.

They didn't smoke any crack. That's exclusively my territory, thank God. If I lived in a building full of crackheads, it would be time to move. Some crack smokers are so leachy.

But the vics do help you sleep, sorta' but waking up bright eyed and bushy tailed can be problematic.

But back to the diabetes thing.

I am going to have to be more selective of the food items I even bring into this apartment. No more ice cream, no more cakes, say good bye to cookies and donuts. No more pre-sweetened cereals and drinks. Well sugar sweetened foods on the whole will have to be avoided.

Just one more thing I have to remember so here it's written down for future reference.

Just one question though...
Why don't I remember the important things at the right time?

I'll just keep working on that...

Friday, July 2, 2010

I shouldn't be doing this..

You see I am high as a kite.

Little of the MM and the thoughts get rolling. Now mind you that I am fucked up right now. Whacked and really even not seeing quite straight. I'm actually amazed that the keys are being tapped in the right order.

(Thank God for spell check.)

But as I said I'm high. No question about that. The reason, as stupid as it might seem to you, is quite frankly I want to read this a week, or a month or even a year from now. It's that important to me that I know what ever it is I'm experiencing at this moment. The now, so to speak.

This all is an attempt to rationalize or not my substitution attempts from crack to weed. Is it all for the better? Or is it something to really re-exam. I'm not sure because in all truthfulness I'm feeling really good right now, another part of me is scared. As in chicken shit mother fucker about this whole thing.

And as a guinea pig of sorts, of my own making, I'll see how this test works out.

OK...Gimme' a break.

I'm am REALLY am high as a freakin' kite.


Wow! It's been an hour since typing in OK! Company came by and I couldn't ignore guests. But this is worth remembering.

I think...

Thursday, July 1, 2010

My neighbor Don

There are not a lot of people moving into and out of my life. Well, usually people move out of my life, but there is the occasional friend who sticks around awhile. My neighbor Don is one of those people right now.

Don broke his jaw a couple of months ago when he hit his chin on a window sill. I suspect he was drunk when that happened. He never had it taken care of until last week. Now he will have to endure about 6 to 8 weeks of having his jaw wired.

Part of the reason he didn't have his jaw repaired was because he was impaired. Mostly impaired by vodka, which he would occasionally share with me. That and some vicoden, which he acquired because of the pain he endured from his jaw.

He also would share the vicoden with me as well.

That's really not my cup of tea, but it has helped me sleep a few nights.

Anyway, his assistance cash has dried up because of some legal complications. He also hasn't had any cash from other sources, so he hasn't been able to buy any booze. After a few shaky days he finally detoxed without any ill effects so far as I can tell.

So clear headed, he finally went to the emergency room to get his jaw fixed. Good for him.

Every so often I'll have had Don over for dinner. Since he broke his jaw I fix him either spaghetti, macaroni and glue or his favorite, scrambled eggs. Those were the only foods he could handle because of the pain he experienced.

Corn on the cob was definitely out of the question.

Like I said, in 6 to 8 weeks he will be able to eat solid food again. But until then he'll have to eat through a straw. Things like Ensure, Instant Breakfast and other liquid nourishment will be his staple meal until the grill work in his mouth is gone.

Now I'm wondering what I'll do for company at dinner until he's able to chew again? I can't hardly invite him over and eat a hamburger in front of him. That would be wrong in so many ways.

I guess if I want company for dinner I'm just gonna' have to figure out how to get beef stew through a straw.

And would I have to eat my meal the same way?