Damaging my Damage.

I goto counseling twice a month at Seattle Counseling for Sexual Minorities. At times going there definitely helped me, but those times seem to be over. I am tired of my counselor who is nothing more than a talking head with the look of awful pity on her face.

I talk and talk while she nods her head and asks me the stupidest questions ever. Her babble has not helped me in months. If I was to really tell her how I was feeling, she might have me locked up or kicked out of the program.

I was a heroin addict for almost 10 years on and off. It was the best painkiller I could find. I loved snorting it up my nose. The taste of it dripping down my throat was better than pizza. But heroin also made me very sick. Without heroin I went through the worst sickness you can imagine, the feeling of your body rejecting itself. Believe me it is not fun. With extreme pleasure comes extreme pain. Nothing in life on this awful planet is fair.

I moved out to seattle after being clean for about two years. The heroin out on the west coast is not the same as it is on the east coast. There is a huge difference. Out west they only have Black Tar Heroin and it is about the nastiest thing you can put in your body. Plus about 80 percent less potent than the china white. You have to shoot the tar but you can snort the white. I have always had bad veins for shooting. If only I had been born out west, things would have been a lot different for me.

I got yelled at by my talking head of a counselor for calling the head shrinker an asshole. Even if it was true she did not want to hear me slander her co-workers. This infuriated me. I had every right to express my feelings as long as no one got physically hurt, who cares what I say. She makes me sick.

I woke up last week with the worst pain I have ever felt in my life. One of my back teeth were rotted out and now the nerve was exposed. I had procrastinated getting it fixed for months and now the nerve was pissed. I walked into the poor people's dental clinic only to be turned away with a prescription for vicodin and some antibiotics. I had taken about 10 aspirin that morning which meant they could not pull the tooth. They were afraid I would not clot and bleed to death in the dental chair. I highly doubt it.

The pain was so intense that even the vicodin did not help. The next day I went to the local emergency for some relief. They ended up giving me the holy grail of pain killers-oxycotton as I like to call it which was probably not a good idea because the heroin addict inside of me was going to be playing with fire. I was in so much pain I really had no choice. The pain was so intense that I had to take about 8 oxys that day, plus the rest of the vicodins and I was not even high.

Any other time that I would be prescribed opiates, the pain of whatever illness led to the prescription created intense pleasure for me as I rode out the high it gave me. Not this time. The pain of the tooth led to the pain of the opiates infesting the addict within. These last few days of the worst pain of my life led to the unmasking of the opiate addict within, even though I have been clean for 7 years. Like I said life on this awful planet is just not fair.