CHAPTER XVI
So, that's it.
My life so far.
Like I said, it's not strawberries and cream, but I've tried to tell the truth — to all of you and to myself; and that's about all I can do at this point.
Tell the truth about the past, and, like my friend Hope says, try not to repeat it.
There are some discrepancies in the story, I know.
I apologize for those.
Most of them are because my memory is just plain fucked up from so much heroin, cocaine and alcohol.
Others are just plain lies — either deliberate or unconscious on my part.
Looking back over the manuscript, even I'm not sure sometimes which was which.
Whatever the reasons were for the lies at the time, I prayed to God.
And He gave me the strength to set the record straight.
The main thing I want to set straight is about something The Maggot said about me.
That when me and him first met, I wanted him to fuck me.
I called him a liar.
I want to say here that he was telling the truth.
I did let him fuck me.
That shows how bad my drug and alcohol addiction was even back then when I first came to California!
I was desperate to be loved by anyone, anytime, in any way I could.
I hate it when people talk about me getting fucked.
There's a friend of mine from New York who goes around telling people: "Yes. I fucked Jeff."
How ridiculous!
Nobody wants to hear about somebody fucking my nasty ass!
The truth is I loved it when I was younger.
I was a real little whore.
It's something I It’s something I don’t do anymore; it was a symptom of my sickness.
A dangerous symptom.
But if I really and truly enjoyed it now, I would.
Enough said.
Which brings me and Hope just about back to where we started.
How do we end the book?
We’re not sure of that either.
When I started writing down my life story, I actually expected to be a lot further along in my sobriety at this point.
I expected to be able to end the book by saying I was now four or five months clean and sober, or at least 90 days.
No such luck.
It’s 6:22 a.m., and I haven’t slept for more than an hour a night for the past nine days.
I know what you’re thinking.
He slipped again, and he didn’t tell us about it!
Well, you’re right!
When I slipped, I felt so bad and so depressed, I didn’t want to admit that I’d fucked up again — not even to the fucking tape recorder.
Then, like a typical drug addict, I thought: Fuck it!
If I can’t end the book with me being sober,
I’ll end it with me being stoned.
I’ll end it with me crawling around on the floor with a fucking needle hanging out of my arm, fucked up on black-tar and cocaine.
Shooting speedballs — my old favorite.
I even joked about it with my friend, G. I said: "I’m gonna call the last chapter ‘A Night Like Every Other Night.’ ”
I figured people could find out — later on — that I got clean and sober.
Or, I figured I’d wait and write an article or something after I got a few months of sobriety under my belt.
But I don’t want to do that now.
That’s not the truth either.
And anything that’s not the truth is just more drug-addict bullshit.
The truth is: I can’t remember how many times I’ve slipped since I started working on this book.
It’s been a lot.
But I’m still here.
I may be only nine days sober at this point, but I’m not giving up!
If people out there who are struggling with heroin addiction read this book, maybe they’ll feel better about themselves — even if they have slipped a couple of times, and they’ll know that if I can do even this much, then they can do it, too.
Maybe, with God’s help, they can do even better.
I’m getting a new perspective on life today.
I feel happy.
There are things that bother me, but I’m dealing with them.
I’m actually dealing with them!
Ordinarily, at nine days sober, I wouldn’t even try to deal with whatever upset me.
I’d go get high over it.
But not now.
Lately, I’ve been going to meetings.
I’ve been talking to people.
I’ve been working on the book.
Maybe taking this moral inventory of my life and telling it to all of you has really helped me!
I don’t want to slip anymore.
I don’t want to O.D. anymore.
And I don’t want any more Shiva!
I want to be able to talk to people, and I want people to talk to me and be able to understand me.
I’m tired of being alone and dead inside.
I want to live again.
So, I’m nine days clean and sober!
I’m on my way!
People who think I’m gonna fuck up can just fuck off.
People who have a problem with me for whatever reason and want me to fuck up can go right along with them.
I joined Powerhouse Gym today.
It was hard to work out again — sober, without much sleep, and without any steroids; but I did it.
In fact, I’ve decided not to take any more steroids.
I want a completely drug-free life — all the way.
I think things are going to get really good from now on.
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