The Gripe of Heroin

a red flower blooms

in my dirty old syringe

sing halleluah!

The juice of the opium poppy is so addicting that even after 45 years of being clean and sobriety, my tummy churns with anticipation when I see an image in a movie of blood rising into a syringe.

I was taught long ago that when it comes to thinking about using drugs, the addict is not responsible for the first thought. It’s normal for the addicted brain to remember the pleasure of using drugs.

But the addict is responsible for the second thought. Rather than feed the fire of desire by reminiscing the good times, the addict must forcibly think of the consequences: harming of others and self, humiliation, remorse, self-hatred, unmanageability and powerlessness. Talking with another recovering addict helps.

For most addicts in good recovery, craving fades away to almost nothing with time. But the reptilian brain never completely forgets the abnormally intense pleasure stoked by unnatural means. The price of freedom is eternal vigilance.

I got high with a little help from my dying friends. But I got clean and sober with a lot of help from my recovering friends.