How to Ruin Happiness...
Citation: ewan_u. "How to Ruin Happiness...: An Experience with Heroin & Crack (exp107468)". Erowid.org. Apr 6, 2017. erowid.org/exp/107468
I am about to try and quit (again). I have been an IV heroin user on and off for twelve years. During this time I have had four (this being the fourth) periods where I would describe myself as addicted. The rest of the time I have managed to keep it to occasional use. Quitting, for me, has not presented too much of a challenge on the three occasions I have done so. A mixture of dihydrocodeine, loperamide and zopiclone (for sleep) are usually sufficient to make things at least tolerable. However on this occasion I have a problem. Snowballs.
For whatever reason, I have always been far more into downers than anything else. I have brought crack whilst scoring but invariably smoked it. Taking the time to wait for the H to cool a bit and then stirring the crack through for some reason seemed too much like hard work. However, a friend of mine who is also an addict always does snowballs by preference and one day when we were hanging out I decided to make the effort. I'm not sure why it was different on that occasion but the feeling that washed over me was – without doubt – the most incredible thing I have ever felt. I immediately knew I had a serious problem. The cost of my habit had just doubled. I now dislike taking heroin without the addition of the much maligned rock.
The experience I wish to describe, in fact, is my morning routine. The reason for this is it constitutes the premier and ultimate point in my day. Overnight my tolerance has dropped enough that my morning snowball is usually (except on the odd occasion I end up with some sub-standard white) that same magic hit. For breakfast. Every. Single. Day.
I am fairly well organised for my kind. Sure my pad is a mess. It's a mess whether I'm junked up or not. But with regard to drugs I am pretty bang on it. I have a job which covers my habit and the other necessities of life and, thanks to my comparative-to-most-junkies wealth, I awake daily to my deadly obsession. I take the time the night before to extract the drugs from the traditional thousand layers of cling film that dealers here in the UK persist in cladding their product in. Struggling with an endless blob of plastic first thing in the morning does nothing for my mood so it makes sense to me to have it wrapped neatly in a rizla, sat next to the bed along with my spoon, a sachet of citric (0.1g), a dropper bottle of water and a couple of alcohol wipes (one for cleaning my injection site and one to light and use for the cooking process) and a fresh 29 gauge 1ml syringe. A lot of people seem to struggle with putting crack through a 29 but I think it comes down to quality. If I have good product which has been properly washed then it will work in a 29.
I'm gonna want a full 1ml of water initially, I find it'll cook down to about 0.7ml when I boil the smack but it will stay as a thin enough solution to work with the 29. Anyhow, the key is to start with the H. I do not put the crack in at this stage or I will end up with a disappointing jelly. 0.2g of gear with the full 0.1g of citric and the 1ml of water heated over the flaming swab till dissolved is where I need to start. Once I have this initial solution I wait a moment, let it cool a touch then introduce the crack. I helps if I have crushed it up beforehand but the back end of a syringe does a fine job of squashing the lumps. I stir and squish against the bottom of the spoon till it's all dissolved.
My dealer does reliable 0.15gs of white and I really do need the full 0.1g of citric to stand any chance of it dissolving. Once it has, I tear a cigarette filter down the middle and drop half of it in. Then the whole lot is drawn into the pin. I squeeze out the air and have a think about where I want to try and stick it this time. After my fairly extensive abuse of my circulatory system over the years (I have injected all sorts of odd things over that time) finding veins can be a challenge and with a snowball this really is critical. Whilst if I miss with a pure H shot the gear will, at least, find it's way into my system. With a snowball a miss is a missed opportunity. The crack is gone – game over – and if this is a day when all I have is the one of each to wake up to I am not taking chances. A few minutes invested in finding the right site is well worth it.
And so it begins; the vein is punctured and a spurt of red through the barrel signifies I am on target. I depress the plunger carefully, looking out all the time for any sign of a lump signifying something has shifted and I need to re-adjust. And it's in. First, I can taste it. The flavour running over my entire tongue from the inside out. I never fail to be amused by this. It also tells me that – about five seconds later – the world will change. First comes a heady feeling, almost like my head has swelled a little, like the beginning of a headache but without the pain. And then the most intense rush emanates from the core of my body overwhelming my entire physical being. The feeling reaches my skin and I break a sweat. My body is shaking and my head is swimming. Nausea. I feel like I'm going to be sick but it's not unpleasant. Tinges of colour distort my vision. I daren't move. If I do I probably will be sick but I am happy to stay sat where I am and ride the intensity.
I'm not a fan of uppers but this is different. It is not like coming up but more like expanding outward.
It is not like coming up but more like expanding outward.
It is so complete. Frighteningly close to being unpleasant but most definitely, absolutely not. It is the highlight of my day. I sit as still as I can and focus hard on the feelings. After - I think, it's hard to tell, I'm not counting, just willing it to persist - about thirty seconds, they begin to fade. As they do I can recognise the beginnings of sorrow and depression replacing them. I know there is another 24 hours before I can have this again. I will have other snowballs today but this is the one. No other will have the same effects and I know now it is a matter of counting the hours, killing time before I can have my shining moment again. A whole day of mundane interactions and frustrations to negotiate before I can live again. A night of broken sleep to wrestle. There is nothing now but this to live for. It has become my one true joy and I am not sure I will be able to walk away from it.
I cannot stress enough. If one crosses this line then one runs the risk of living forever in the shadows. I am quite a tough character but I am flat terrified at the possibility of living without this. Nothing compares and, now I have tasted this elixir, I know that no experience in life will ever come close to giving me the same intensity of pleasure. I have ruined happiness. This goes beyond a physical addiction. This has taken a hold of me in a way that nothing else has ever done. I do not know how I will move on from this and restore normality to my life. I am going to try but something tells me I may never fully get over this. It will always be there, waiting in the dark and poised to swallow me. And I will go willingly...
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