i’m a 21-year-old manchild from just outside manchester, uk who’s spent the last 8ish years of my life transient, in and out of psych wards, homeless, squatting and at one point actually being a productive member of society with a job and a rental agreement. ha.
i first knew i was different when i was around 13. my parents were splitting up. i felt nothing. literally, nothing. none of the usual guilt children feel. not angry, not sad. nothing. my dad left, and my mum started drinking and getting into some serious dickhead guys. tried to make her see how much it was hurting her. so i bounced. spent less and less time at home. police were bringing me home every week or so – my mum still cared about me and would call them and report me missing when she noticed i wasn’t there.
i started hanging around with some older teens who were into hard drugs and some other pretty fucked up stuff. i learnt a lot of skills and tricks that are still keeping me alive today. i met a guy who i’ll call j, and i fell in love. my first love. the only time i’ve ever truly felt that way about a guy. he was 19 at the time and to this day is the most intelligent person i’ve ever met – apart from the heroin addiction.
i’ll never forget the night we’d got into an empty house we used to use for somewhere to crash. we rolled a few spliffs and he went to the bathroom to shoot (i point-blank refused to see him do it). twenty minutes or so passed and i knocked on the door. no answer. i panicked and kicked the door open. he was slumped on the toilet, covered in his own vomit and breathing once every 30 seconds or so. the details of what happened afterwards are hazy at best but i called the ambulance and split. i failed him that night. i left him to die alone, this beautiful man, because i was scared of the consequences.
i started to cut, and burn, and (my favourite even now) pierce myself with pins and nails. i started going on week-long speed binges. i started to use ketamine. by the time i was 14 i was sniffing at the bare minimum a gram a day. i had to pay for it all somehow and i’m sure you can probably guess how i did so.
this is all i can manage for now but by fuck that was cathartic
2 comments
You sound a lot smarter than your actions. Leaving your mother was a good start. How about rehab? You’ve got a good mind, smart brain. Use it to help yourself.
I understand the sentiment – the shame in leaving someone you loved to die alone. I don’t want to sound like an ass, but it wasn’t you that did that to him… he must have known it could happen.