Louis: A personal story (part two)

I got kicked out of the hostel for my drinking and moved into another hostel, where things continued along the same path. My best friend at the time lived in the hostel too. She was on a methadone script. On my birthday she gave me a sip of her script.

It meant so much to me that she did this. It was the only thing she owned that meant anything to her and she was willing to share it with me. I’ve always remembered that.

Before they threw me out of this hostel they asked me to consider going into residential unit, where they would control my money and access to the outside world. “Not likely”, was my response. So I didn’t go. When I did get kicked out I had managed to get a flat.

My lifestyle continued. I always found partners who drank/drugged the same as me. My week used to revolve around a Thursday. Fortnightly I would get my giro and then, once a week my partner would get their sick benefit. We would then party, drinking and taking drugs till the money went.

I never had gas or electric in the flat. I would sleep on two chairs put together with a duvet. I spent my days walking from one friend house to another drinking and taking drugs. I even had a seizure one time and when I came out of it I had to sleep for a little while. When I came to, my hand grabbed for the can I had been drinking out of. Still I didn’t think anything was wrong.

A friend of mine got a job with an employment agency and persuaded me to join. From then on I always worked. Generally with a hangover or on drugs but I worked. I tell myself things cant be that bad if I can work. This meant I had more money for drink and drugs also.

I met a new partner, we moved in together straight away, while with her I tried injecting speed three times. I really liked this, but knew I couldn’t carry on doing it, I liked it too much. I began to sell hash and speed to friends. This didn’t work so well, as I just ended up smoking/snorting/eating it all, so anything I earned at work went on drugs.

I moved to Holland when I was 25 with another new partner. Same shyte, different place comes to mind. I started trying different drugs while there, coke/crack/ecstasy. I had one of my last drug spree‘s while I was in Holland and it also led to me returning to England.

The morning after my 26th birthday I woke to the usual not remembering the night before. There was a wrap next to my bed. I took some and that began the worst trip of my life. Later I found out it was ketamine. A ‘friend’ had given it to me as a birthday present. From then to this day I have experienced panic and anxiety attacks.

When I came back to England I moved in with my mum and sister. My mum had split up from her partner, my sister’s dad. I was eight stone when I came back. I hadn’t eaten properly for nearly a year and was a mess. I tried taking drugs again when I returned to England. I couldn’t do it. Every time I tried to take a drug I would get flashbacks from the time in Holland and I couldn’t take them. They didn’t work anymore. It wasn’t a choice I had to make. I just couldn’t take drugs.

It was OK though. I just drank more to compensate for the terrible thing had happened to me – I couldn’t take drugs anymore. How unfair.

I worked and drank for the next few years but it was OK. No one really noticed as my sister and mum drank too. I tried going back to college again at the same time as working. I did well for a few years but the panic attacks became crippling and the drink was the only thing that seemed to help.

I had to leave college though as they were putting more and more pressure to do presentations. My solution was to quit and run away.

I had met someone on the internet and decided to move to Scotland to be with them. Another perfect relationship began. I would say drink played a big part in our relations, but the truth was, drinking was all our relationship was.

I also started to gamble on horse and slot machines. We stayed together five years, until one night after a drinking spree I blacked out and when I woke the next morning my partner said I had beaten them up the night before. I left that night. I never denied it as I didn’t know.

Later I found out this was a lie, they were seeing someone else, but even with that knowledge that I couldn’t even defend myself again an allegation like this, I still didn’t see the problem.

To be continued……..

For part one of the story click here