Oh me, oh my, am I feeling better. I found a taxi cab driver who found me a heroin connection, and I got a doctor to write me out a script to Dilauded. I'm only using every other day, and as small amount as I can. I use just enough to take away the sadness. The H down here in Arizona is Mexican Black Tar, and its not cut to shit. It cost 90 USD for a gram. I almost shit my pants when I herd how cheap it was. Then I was sure it would be shit dope, but I used about .02 and it layed me on my ass. Right now I'm using up the H, because I'm leaving on Tuesday for Wisconsin, and I can't take the H with me. I can take the Dilauded with me, because its prescribed to me. I only got forty, four mg tablets of the Dilauded, but I also have ten .02 bags of shit H at home waiting for me...hopefully. I had my hook up hold it for me, and this person swears its still there and they didn't cut it and sell part of it. Which is what I would do if I didn't know the person so well. My connection knows me well, so hopefully this person won't screw me over.
I want to Thank Gledwood for making me laugh when I thought it was impossiable to even form a smile on my face. I want to thank Boomer too.
I am scared that when I get home and run out of dope, I'm going to be totally strung out again. The last thing I need. I can't go back to the Methadone clinic, my parents are so proud of me for being clean. Shit just thinking about this and writing it down make me need another fix, because it depresses me. I hate being honest with myself. If I do have a habbit when I get home, I'll just have to kick it. Kick it old school, cold turkey. I will probably tell my shrink so he can prescribe me clonidine to help with the withdrawls.