true-stories-drugs

That night I slept like a baby. When I woke the next morning I knew I was going to smoke heroin again. Everything that day was enjoyable: sitting on the bus, working all day _ it all felt good. It was the best day of my life.

Sitting cross-legged on her bed, I watch her take out her gear. She__ been smoking so much the room stinks of it. Over the last few weeks, I__e seen her do it so often I__e resisted the urge. It__ surreal, like I__ watching me from outside my body. My willpower is fragile at the best of times, but my resolve is always weaker in the evening.I feel a dread and a revulsion for what I__ about to do, but there__ a stronger feeling, an unutterable longing. I crack.__ive us a line,_ I say.

Sitting on the train I watch the scenery speeding by, notice a cobweb in the top corner of the window, undulating with a gentle breeze I can__ feel. I lean back in my seat and take my book out of the carrier bag. Turning it over in my hand, it feels warm. It feels how I want to feel; full of knowledge, full of the future.The time I__e spent staying in bed smoking dope I__e been hibernating, recuperating and gaining strength. I__ weak socially, but being away from other drug users has made me resilient. It__ allowed my mind and body to heal and mend. As if the winter is over, I__e come out stronger now. I__ on my own. I have the choice of what to do with my life.I__ going to stay clean. I__ going to be the woman I can be.