Chasing The Dragon
“So, what is it?” I wasn’t quite sure what the strange goo on the tinfoil was.
“Heroin,” Andrew told me, but this time he was hesitant. I could see that he really didn’t want me to be a part of it. But he had shown it to me and now that curious cat was out of the bag.
When I heard the word ‘heroin’, I knew what it meant. I knew it wasn’t simply danger, but more like death… Still, my curiosity got the better of me and I nagged him to let me try some. I thought to myself: I mean, I have tried so many other drugs and they were never as dangerous as what people had said they were – what harm can this do?
Andrew showed me how to ‘chase the dragon’. This is when you heat the foil underneath the heroin and inhale the fumes that come off the heroin as it melts and runs down the narrow furrows. Within a few seconds after inhaling it, I had to run to the toilet and vomit violently as my body rejected the foul-smelling heroin. I’ll never forget the sweet, yet dirty smell of that heroin. I also remember that I didn’t even particularly enjoy the way it made me feel so ‘stoned’. I felt lame and tired and numb.
The following weekend we got some more crack and heroin, just for kicks. At first I couldn’t understand why Andrew had to have heroin, because I thought the crack was the best thing on the planet!
But as I smoked more crack, I started experiencing the hard comedown that follows the extreme high that it gives you. Then I finally understood the need for the heroin. It has the opposite effect to crack, so instead of having to go through the torture of coming down from the crack, you smoke heroin afterwards and get blissfully stoned instead. And so the vicious cycle begins…
For a few weeks we only used the drugs on the weekends, as a naughty and fun thing to do. We’d sit in my room and get high. Then we both had a short holiday and we used it every day for a few days. It was when I had to go back to work and didn’t have any more drugs that I realised with a shock how quickly I had become addicted! I was in agony! My back hurt and my muscles cramped. I was depressed and vomited continually.
Andrew and I had moved in together but he didn’t even have a job. So all I did was go to work to earn money to pay our rent, buy some food and feed our growing drug addiction. I couldn’t wait to get home every night just to be able to inhale the only thing that made me feel good.
I hated it! I hated what my life had become in the space of a few weeks. Waiting for dealers in cold side streets in the south of London. Sitting in our small and smoky room, day in and day out, just getting high and stoned. I started to write in my journal, more than I ever had before. My spirit fought against this thing that had invaded my being.
I cried out to God to help me, but I had a great fear that nothing could save me from this.
What do you think could save Michelle? What do you think she should do?