Crossing The Line

At the end of that year I decided to tell my parents about my new drug addiction. They offered for Seth and me to spend our two-week December holiday at the Vaal River again. We both agreed and went with the best intentions. Two weeks went by without using any drugs whatsoever; sleeping in separate beds and doing all the chores my mom had set out for us to do. Everything was carefully planned so that we would spend time doing really normal things together, and get closer on a healthy level.

At the end of the two weeks I felt strong and positive and ready to try and face our reality again. On our way back into Joburg Seth said, “Should we? Just one last time, for old times’ sake…?” And that was that. We went past Nirvana and picked up a few pills and happily tripped the rest of our day away.

Needless to say our two weeks of rehab had done absolutely nothing to save us from our addiction and the need to satisfy that hungry monster inside.

During that second year together, Seth and I finally decided to move in together. To save costs and having to drive back and forth, we figured that it was a wise thing to do. Then there came a time when we had two reliable Nigerian dealers who would drop off our grams at our house. No more waiting in dodgy side streets at ridiculous times of the night. No more driving home with that familiar paranoia of being pulled over by the cops after we’d collected. What a luxury!

I often made the call on a Friday on my way home from work, to avoid having to wait any longer than necessary. Our stuff would get delivered to our doorstep shortly after we got home, and so the party could begin! Not that it was much of a party – being just the two of us most weekends. It used to drive me insane when I tried to figure out what good there actually was in using kat every weekend. We rarely went anywhere, rarely spent time with friends and never had any money to spare. Most months we would end up asking for ‘petrol’ money from one of our parents.

By August things were starting to fall apart quickly. I was giving up the fight.

10 August 2007 – Friday

This is just such rubbish! Not even strong sleeping tablets get me to sleep and I am yet again not only alone but also the one to face a day feeling like shit as usual. The worst of all is that there is nothing to say. I know I am to blame and one would think that after going through this countless times, I would make the decision to not put myself through this again. But no, I don’t, and this makes me utterly stupid.

I want to blame everyone right now, even though it’s not his or her fault. I just feel so furious and frustrated at this whole joke of a life I am living. I just want it to be normal. I want to marry Seth and have children and have enough money to survive through a month. I am just a stuff-up and I can’t resist stupid temptation. It always leads to getting more and more to feel a little better but one never feels better. I’m just done. I can’t go on like this. I want to give up today. Let’s just go on until we clutch out.


Tell us what you think: What is so hard about staying clean after rehab?