[Ibogaine] banging head against ones keyboard at 3am

mcorcoran mcorcoran27 at yahoo.com
Tue Oct 12 11:50:16 EDT 2004

Where are you located? -M.

nruhtra at dsskcorp.com wrote:Hey List,
I've only been skimming through posts lately, not fully reading them as I
usually do – this is selfish on my part but I’m going to rant. To you. 
Because really I have no one else I know in person (in my current state of
affairs) who knows that the fuck I'm going though, even when expressed in
great and agonizing detail. Warning: this may appear incoherent and
appear as if I’m rambling on.. it’s because I am.

I see a few people on list have been detoxing with with ibo – or whatever.
Congratulations to you all, that’s fucking awesome.
I do not have the fortune to obtain, eat, absorb, or otherwise ingest ibo,
so I cold turkeyed (boo hoo, poor n). I haven’t used heroin/coke/crack in
42 days. I give my success full credit due to my location. I basically
isolated myself in a small town where I have loved ones. There is
absolutely no heroin what so ever here. Had I not came here I would have
continued to score day in day out like always. I felt this was my only
option to really quit. I think of this as a metaphysical exile from the
real world. But in all actuality this is all too fucking real. Like,
everything. Including my sobriety.

Here, I can get crack/coke – but that wasn’t my real problem, it was more
like icing on the cake that is HEROIN. Thus, staying away from coke/crack
wasn’t an issue. I was a heavy user of all ov the above in San Francisco
and Phoenix - where (imo) is some of the top shit to score.

Now that I’m here 42 days into what I think is the rest of my life, I feel
like I’m living a fucking joke. I’ve never been off heroin since I
started and everything that I associate myself with now, that I did on
heroin (ie, music, movies, books, smells, food, everythingintheworld,
etc..) brings back sharp stinging memories. At first I went all Zen about
it and just blocked it out. That was fine for the lesser part of 2 weeks.
Now, I am more so at a mental suffering point - if anything. Physical
pain is there (always will for all I’m concerned), but not as intense.

But, I have this killer feeling that, without a doubt - when I leave this
place and get somewhere where there is dope, I will score. No shit about
it. Not because of the pain, or needing a fix, but lack of
*fillintheblank* in my life.

I quit cause I couldn’t afford the lifestyle associated with the habit. I
didn’t want to stop. I had to. I was sick of crashing on the streets or
on drug dealers couches, not eating cause every dime I had went to dope,
getting my ass kicked by cops, fucking over people, stealing, lieing,
etcfuckingetc... I was sick of falling asleep in fetal positions because
I was awake when all the food shelters were closed and had no food in my
stomach. When I got here I weighed 125 lbs. I didn’t realize how bad it
was until far too late. I thought for sure I had some fucked up disease
that was destroying my physical body that I downloaded via the needle or
whatever. It wasn’t hepatitis or aids or etc.. it was my habit. The junk
in my veins was the only thing keeping me going.

And what about these dreams? Every night I have a dream where I’m trying
to flee SF or PHX while trying to score. I sit up in cold sweats
wondering what the fuck is the connotation with leaving the city and
scoring? It means something -- but who cares because now I’m awake and
feel sick. No shit, I just woke up (3 am) and was dreaming about walking
around the Tenderloin with a broken ankle trying to cop. Now I’m banging
my head against my keyboard. Life in the sham lane.

Why would I want to go back to it? What is the reason to want all the
torture and shit associated? *Thinking about it* - Its not a masochistic
want, its more of a glutton like need. Does that fucking make sense? Am
I going fucking insane?

WHAT THE FUCK IS THE POINT? (looks to the wise one(S))

Yeah yeah.. I see there is no point. It’s either this, or that. This is
what I have now, that is what I had then. I’m a mother fucker who has to
decide one way or the other. Another fine position I’ve stuck myself
into. I wouldn’t expect less of me.

I answered myself in this post. How about that? I am fucking insane.

I still got love tho.
piece out brothers and sisters.

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