What I’ve learned from two years of opiate dependency By Jeff Jordans, Contributor y name’s Jeff*. I’m 22 years old—turning 23 in May—and I was born and raised : in the Lower Mainland area. I have a caring family, consisting of my divorced parents and three siblings. I’m a business student at Douglas College, and I’m hoping to transfer to Siw arom Olu ia are) the next two or three years. I like to write, but my bread EVate Moll iducs wed Nomaey em untauloyny gig I got lucky enough to land last year. I’ve been playing the electric bass since I was 15, and recently, a band I was a part of when I first started playing, has decided to get back together. So that’s really cool, I suppose. I’m in a healthy relationship with a woman I love. Overall, I can’t complain. Except, yeah, I’ma heroin PtaCaital Over the course of the past two years, I’ve never found myself going to any sort of Narcotics Anonymous meetings. I was never the kind of person to willingly open up to a group of strangers who are just as fucked up as myself, and like most of the more cynical members of my generation, I’m not too partial to the idea of surrendering myself to a higher power. It implies, to me, that— if I ever get to the point where I'm clean for a thousand days— it won't be because I worked at it, but because of Jesus, Allah, Batman, or a lamp, whichever of those I deem to be my higher eae I’m currently clean at the : moment; heroin addicts are : terrific liars, so you can take that with however many grains : of salt you want, but it’s the : truth. Even after officially SLR COS ey Mec E OSS a Teele ime Ti tem Weca rte : ayear and a half ago, for various : : reasons, I still do lapse every : once ina while. Although most : of the time I’m the only one : who knows about it, I still feel : guilty. The only thing worse : than failing those who care about you is failing yourself. This brings me to the : very first thing I learned : right at the beginning of this : journey: heroin feels good. : This may seem obvious, but : it’s rarely heard straight from : the horse’s mouth. The night : my girlfriend and I graduated : from hillbilly heroin to actual : heroin happened because we : were unable to find the little : blue pills that we—by that : point—loved way more than : we loved each other. We got : ahold ofa friend of a friend, : who offered us a quarter gram : of down (Vancouver slang for : H) for $40. We weren't exactly : overwhelmed by the euphoric : feelings of opiates up until this : point, so we decided, fuck it— : let’s do heroin. To make a long : story short, we both inhaled a : very small dose of the delicate, : fine white powder up our noses. : : After that first hit, I felt good. : Not obviously fucked up, nor : fully euphoric, but chilled. : We decided we could go for : that more often, especially : since there was absolutely no : hangover. As an avid user of : drugs, this was rather surprising : : like you’ve got the flu. Except : you dont have the flu—you're : “dope sick,” a state of being : that is the bane of any junkie’s : tome. With subtlety comes a dulled ability to notice things, : which goes hand in hand : heroin addiction happens at : asnail’s pace. Remember in : Breaking Bad when Jesse shoots : up heroin with his girlfriend Fa Coys y manus ema eat er-Tave Vole : see his face go all happy and : he floats up to the ceiling and : shit? Nothing like that. These : aren't Lays ketchup chips; there : are plenty of people who can, : indeed, do just one hit and : Never use it again. You just : see it as extremely convenient : and inexpensive compared to : the chalky prescription pills : shoved up your nasal cavities. : You start to grab a bag of D : before you head to work at six : in the morning every single day, : : because you find that you're at : your very best when you're high : (you're too busy being high to Telate STS n LK bale