So hopefully iv just had my last charge, I'm not going to say ever cus that would be a lie and honesty is another thing that I'm going to embrace this year, but certainly the last for a long time and when / if I do use again it will be a choice and not just because my body is dependent. It's frustrating cus I got completely clean in 2013 in rehab. Before going in I was on 110 mlz of methadone, 8 yellows (prescribed,obviously I topped up),spending anything between 30 to 700 pounds a day on crack and heroin .Doing anything to come up with the cash and became a person I neither recognised or liked and was at an all time low. A final blow reduced me to suicide but woke up in hospital. I got the opportunity to go to this really fancy rehab that I knew would be tough but was willing to put in the work. I gave up my flat ,had a final blow,a goodbye party and my family had payed for my 5hrs of travel and a final night in a fancy hotel with my mum before I began the 8 to 12 months of rehabilitation. The day before I received a call saying there wasn't a bed available and that I had to wait another 2 to 3 weeks. I was gutted as I'd mentally prepared myself and was as ready as I ever was going to be. The next few weeks I managed to make things even worse as I'd given up giving a fuck .About a month later they phoned and said they were ready this time. So we payed for yet another train ticket , hotel and said my goodbyes to the substance s that had been my best friends for so long. When we arrived at this impressive grand old mansion nestled in the Scottish country side I thought that there were worse places to go through this foreseeable nightmare and that when I leave I'll be able to start up fresh in a new city as a new person. It was scary I'm not going to lie and if my mum hadn't been there I would of bolted but everyone seemed friendly even the staff . After I was shown my room and a wee tour the nurse took my height ,weight etc. She gave me a worrying look and said she'd be back. She returned with a Doctor who said my BMI was too low and that they couldn't take me. I lost the plot and broke down. Mum phoned my psychiatrist back home who managed to sort it out. Should of listened to myself and turned around then. As it was the first of a series of disasters (I'll save them and full story for my blog) Fast forward a month (containing more challenges and events than most people have in there whole life) and I'm waking up to the first day without any methadone after reducing down a few mlls a day. It had been a struggle to say the least and the place felt more lyk a jail than a hospital and anyways for reasons explained at a later date I was wrongly chucked out !! Without any money, without any of my medication ( for non drug related illness ) and without anywhere to go!!
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