I keep remembering this book I read when I was a kid: Christiane F: Autobiography of a Girl of the Streets and Heroin Addict. (When I say I was a kid, I mean I was 13. Yeah, possibly not the most appropriate reading material for most 13-year-old kids, but I found it riveting.) What I've always remembered most vividly about the book was the girl's harrowing descriptions of heroin withdrawal, and how horrified I was when reading about them. (That's a lot of alliteration there, and I'd like to come up with some words that don't start with "H" to make it read better, but my brain is really really not working right now & it isn't worth the effort.)

Why am I remembering that book so vividly today? Yeah. Probably obvious. Codeine isn't heroin, but they're both opiates, and they have the same general withdrawal symptoms.

I'm no longer pouring sweat as badly as I was last night, but I'm having terrible cold sweats (I'm FREEZING), all over body aches, and diarrhea. Plus, of course, the severe headache.

One of the things that can help with opiate withdrawal, apparently, is Neurontin. Too bad I'm already taking that.

Shannon and I had planned to go out to dinner at Chevy's tonight to celebrate my Gum Graft All Clear, but I really don't know if I'll be up to it. I'm also supposed to have brunch with Lisa tomorrow. I'm mostly just wanting to go to sleep for a week & wake up when the withdrawal is done. Hell. There's that alliteration again.

Apparently, I alliterate when ailing.


I've been feeling really unhappy about my own "feeling like a junkie" attitude. It's really offensive, actually, and I'm feeling pretty pissed about it. Partially pissed at myself and partially pissed at society. People take drugs (including opiates) for a wide variety of reasons—some of which society might consider acceptable & some not—and some people end up addicted, and there's no compassion or benefit in blaming anybody for that or calling anybody names. Seriously, what's the deal, with me coming over all self-righteous and judgmental and bigoted? Because when I judge myself harshly for "feeling like a junkie," I'm judging "junkies" at the same time, and that's bigotry. Is that really me? Well, maybe this experience will help me with that a bit.

I keep picturing myself going through this on the streets. By myself. Without the Neurontin or the Tylenol or the comfy couch to lie on or the iPad video games to help distract me. How the fuck can we judge anyone for being unable to do that ... or even for being unwilling to try past the first hour of withdrawal symptoms?