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Well hello there....

SWIM's decided it might be a good idea to keep a blog following her (hopeful) progression in this ongoing battle with drug addiction. It is not going to be done for purely alturistic reasons (although SWIM would be delighted if this blog encouraged or helped others in a similar situation, and equally pleased if people find it interesting or entertaining in any minor way), but rather SWIM is selfishly thinking this blog might be of some kind of cathartic value to the blogger herself. Cos SWIM has an eight-year addiction to crack-cocaine to contend with, a two-year addiction to prescription pills (morphine and tramadol) and a slightly more recent 'attraction' to heroin. Not good. SWIM also has a boyfriend in prison for drug realted offences. Not good either. However, on a more positive note, SWIM has just returned to university to do a masters degree in creative writing. Good. And today is SWIM's sixty-seventh day without a pipe. Very good. All in all SWIM is thinking 2008 could be her year, but then again if past failures are anything to go by it won't. So SWIM's mindset is that keeping this blog can't do any harm and might, just might, do a whole lot of good. Well, thats all for now folks, thanks for reading,
peace and love,
Rating: 3 votes, 5.00 average.

A Short Poem about Drug Addiction . . .

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Posted 02-06-2008 at 03:12 by beena

Her First Love (by Beena)

Baby, when will you learn,
That the crack you burn,
Only leads to pipe dreams
And nefarious schemes

Left-wing student utopia,
Became self-destruct dystopia,
Big city lights and a future so bright
Now lay in waste

First came the highs
Then came the cries
A ten pound deal
Preferred to a meal

Languid inanition
Replaced real ambition
Days spent chasing, living room pacing
After her first pipe

Forty pounds for a quarter,
A bottle of water,
Tinfoil and ash
Was her day to day stash

Intense cerebral stimulation,
No longer masked feelings of rejection
Day to day strife, made her reach for the knife,
Walls sprayed with claret

A drug-addled mind
Left the world far behind
She’d strayed from the tracks
Too far to come back

Chemical connection had sought real affection
Now all that is left upon reflection
Is a mothers concern, for a daughter who never learned
How to really live

The End
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