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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,
BEENA X
Old

A Short Poem about Abuse ...

Posted 03-10-2008 at 15:41 by beena (Pipe Dreams)
YOU...
In the car you accelerate
To reach the house you will accommodate
All of the shit you accumulate

In the house are the kids you abuse
The kids that will turn on you and accuse
Although for now it’s them who will bruise
In the end it’s you who will lose


There’s no point trying to rehabilitate
With you it’s better to alienate
Because to you we can not relate
You are a fucking reprobate
Beena X
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A Short Poem about Depression ...

Posted 03-10-2008 at 14:00 by beena (Pipe Dreams)
...On a Downer
I’m sitting in my room today
I don’t wanna see the world today
These four walls are closing in on me
Or is it the walls of my mind?

I think I’m going mental
But I’m not sure if I care
For this world is shit and fucked up
And my head is too far gone

I pick up the razor blade
And drag it through my skin
Blood runs smoothly down my arm
Pain release for the soul

The point of no return lay
A million miles behind
‘Cos this road is going no-where
And I’m travelling alone

I’m sitting in my room today
Don’t wanna see the world today
...
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A Short Poem about Paranoia ...

Posted 03-10-2008 at 13:04 by beena (Pipe Dreams)
Paranoid...
Everybody is looking at me
But they think I am unaware
Everybody is talking about me
They have nothing nice to say


I chew my nails and pull my hair
I fidget uncomfortably in my chair
I am the centre of this room
All eyes are fixed on me


I am being studied and analysed
My every move is noted down
By cold disapproving minds
That penetrate into my head

They pry into my private thoughts
And listen to my secrets
And later when I am not there
They will laugh at me.
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The Masterplan

Posted 01-09-2008 at 16:16 by beena (Pipe Dreams)
SWIM has a masterplan!

The Goal: To get off these fuckin' drugs and become a happy, independant, self-motivated, driven, high-flying mutha-fucka!

The Plan:
  • Come off methadone using morphine tablets. Don't top up with heroin. Don't use crack-cocaine.
  • Go and stay with parents for the best part of a month (until college restarts in the autumn) and get totally clean.
  • Come back to London. Go to NA meetings. Start going to the gym or take up Tai Chi (just do something to get fit!). Exercise being good for depression too - this should help.
  • Go back to uni end of September.
  • Get part-time job whilst at uni to get money to pay off debts accumulated since last relapse.
  • Meet
...
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A Short Poem about London....

Posted 17-08-2008 at 00:07 by beena (Pipe Dreams)
London Daze…
Wonder…I arrive with a sense of wonder
Awe…I look around in awe
Fright…Suddenly I’m gripped with fright
Alone…For in a big city I am alone
Unfriendly…All the faces seem unfriendly
Cold…Their expressions are cold
Slowly…I start to walk slowly
Weaving…Through the labyrinthine streets I’m weaving
Commotion…All around is noise and commotion
Bright…the city lights are bright
Immense…London seems immense
Sleepy…the sprawling streets I’ve walked makes me sleepy.
Dazed…This city life makes me feel confused and dazed
Home…I’m a long way from home
Taxi! I shout out ‘Taxi’
Gone…I leave the city...
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An Essay about What Home Means To Me......

Posted 16-08-2008 at 18:39 by beena (Pipe Dreams)
What home means to 'SWIM'

SWIM is not particularly sentimental about home. Home is just a building, a place where she goes to sleep, to eat, to watch TV and listen to music.
I suppose SWIM is fortunate enough to be able to call two places ‘home’. There’s the home where SWIM grew up: the place where her parents still live, the place where she knows that she is always welcome to go, the place that SWIM does go back to at least once a year. SWIM's mother still insists that this is her ‘real home’, she won’t accept that SWIM could possibly think of London as home.
SWIM's lived in London for eight years now and she's made a home of sorts with her partner, who she's also...
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Getting Clean

Posted 16-08-2008 at 18:22 by beena (Pipe Dreams)
Getting Clean…
Honey, we have to admit
That we’re deep in the shit
We’re stuck in the mire
Consequences are dire
A life of addiction
Is causing us friction
And our future looks bleak
Professional help we should seek
We could go to meetings
There’s plenty of seating
Show some promise
At Narcotics Anonymous
Or we could talk to Frank…
BY BEENA
X
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Junkie

Posted 16-08-2008 at 18:19 by beena (Pipe Dreams)
…JUNKIE

Just admit
You’re an addict
You take too much coke
You’re a fucking joke
You take those pills
To get your thrills
And when you get high
You think you will die
Then you fall down
Behave like a clown
So don’t bother me
You fucking junkie
Just give me those drugs
I know you have got
And sort me a line
‘Cos that shit sure is fine!
BY BEENA
x
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18 Lines

Posted 16-08-2008 at 18:17 by beena (Pipe Dreams)
18 Lines…
I need a tube, that tenner will do
Use that knife to cut it up fine
That line is yours, but this one is mine
Inhaling it hard, the powder shoots up
It burns my nose, I pass the tube to you
You take some coke and snort it up too
I feel it drip down the back of my throat
Need a drink? I’ll fetch us some wine
Pour it out whilst you take a line
Listen to music? What do you like?
I’ve got blues, I’ve got jazz, but no drum ‘n’ bass
I want soft music - You want something with pace
We settle on ‘Moby’, a fusion of dance and of blues
Like my sound system? It cost me a bit
You check it out whilst I...
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Another Short Poem about Drug-Related Crime

Posted 16-08-2008 at 18:11 by beena (Pipe Dreams)
Back in the ‘Ville...
For decadent class ‘A’ affection
And a gratuitous shoplifting predilection
Brings another troublesome situation
Caught red-handed; no need for police investigation
Confessed: to avoid further altercation
Future? A magistrates deliberations
Drug treatment order, probation, custodial sentence?
The prison system is overcrowded, rehab might make sense
Lets be realistic, be under no pretence, it might work
If this wasn’t your forty-first offence
The judge shakes his head and frowns for he’s taking a harsh measure,
"You’re a repeat offender, an addict, no national treasure",
He says,
...
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Rating: 2 votes, 4.50 average.

A Short Poem about Drug-related Crime......

Posted 26-06-2008 at 09:29 by beena (Pipe Dreams)
The Consequences of Your Actions

Excessive fondness of chemical administration
Rapacious love of this illicit medication,
With all the resulting euphoric sensation
Ends in a sticky finger situation
Love of money - Oh that green temptation!
Zealous security-guard detection
Swiftly brings about your captivation
With no need for police investigation
You’re waiting in the dock in sweaty trepidation
To hear the outcome of a judges machinations
Off to join the criminal population
In an iron-barred Victorian fortification
Twelve by six four walled habitation
With only a cellmate for conversation
...
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Withdrawals

Posted 20-06-2008 at 21:28 by beena (Pipe Dreams)
As some of you may know from reading this blog perhaps and the threads i've posted (on behalf of SWIM), on the forum my friend SWIM is trying to get off crack-cocaine and heroin....She finally made some progress by making it down to the local drop-in clinic and seeing a councellor who is arranging for SWIM to get a methadone script next Tuesday.
Although that is only a week away and doesn't seem like a particularly long time, those of SWIY's who've experienced addiction will know that a week can seem like forever....especially when you're skint.
SWIM had a fair old wad of money on Wednesday and had to make a decision. With no funds comming for another ten days she could either split...
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'you've got a roof over your head and your not injecting in your groin'

Posted 20-06-2008 at 20:45 by beena (Pipe Dreams)
Well, SWIM realises it's been a seriously long time since she posted properly to this blog thing she’s got going, but those of you who know her can't seriously wonder why. lol.
Yes, that's right: same old, same old of course.....A lot’s happened in the last few weeks/months and at the same time nothing’s happened. SWIM’s life has continued it’s downwards spiral into heroin and crack addiction, accumulating debt and psychological damage on the way: all of her own volition and done by her own hand of course. So she asked me to update y'all....
Tuesday (she tells me) was a truly fucked up day: bizarre, like something outta the movies. SWIM went through a fucking roller coaster of emotions….....This...
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An Even Shorter Poem about Drug Addiction.........

Posted 10-06-2008 at 19:16 by beena (Pipe Dreams)
Atrophy

My enervated body,
Does not alleviate,
The yearning to dose
Myself up.

I know self medication
And self preservation
Do not mean the same
But I ache…..
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A Short Poem about Drug Addiction . . .

Posted 02-06-2008 at 04:12 by beena (Pipe Dreams)
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...
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Calling in the Professionals.....

Posted 21-02-2008 at 01:31 by beena (Pipe Dreams)
SWIM doesn't know what happened today, yesterday, or the day before that for that matter. This week has flown past in a drug-induced blur once again. How did this happen? Mark isn't here, she can’t blame ‘the boyfriend’. No, it’s all SWIM this time.
Monday SWIM rang 'D', she only had a score on her, so i'm not sure what she was expecting, but 'D' invited SWIM around for some beers anyway and then when she got there she ended up getting a twenty deal of white (utterly pointless).
SWIM shared a beer or two afterwards and watched ‘Kiss of the Dragon’: Kung-Fu night on Channel Five meant an excellent Jet-Li film, then walked home (the longest walk SWIM has ever taken, freezing cold...
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Deal or No Deal?

Posted 17-02-2008 at 02:31 by beena (Pipe Dreams)
SWIM apologises to those DF users that do not live in England as they will probably not have a clue what I am on about.
But Deal or No Deal.....whats that about?
SWIM has just turned on her telly (its 1.30am in the morning, English time) and the first thing she sees is Noel Edmonds strutting his stuff. Yuk!
SWIM doesn't get this phenomenon that is Deal or No Deal. Every freaking episode of the show is the same, ie crap. And whats this 'system' people keep talking about?? There's no freaking system, its just a load of random boxes containing random amounts of money. It matters not which order you pick them in. What a load of bollocks. Why are people watching this? Why is it...
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A Bloggers Apology

Posted 17-02-2008 at 00:56 by beena (Pipe Dreams)
SWIM feels the need to apologise for the pretentious ramblings in her last blog entry. Her only excuse is extensive drug use and lack of sleep. SWIM promises this will not be happening again. SWIM is going to sort herself out now (finally) and concentrate on her masters degree in creative writing that she started two weeks ago and is the best thing that has ever happened to her. SWIM is not going to fuck up any more. SWIM will update you on her progress on not-fucking-up in future blogs.
Watch this space..............
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Equilibrium Restored

Posted 15-02-2008 at 19:00 by beena (Pipe Dreams)
Last night SWIM embarked on a mystical journey aided by some chemical friends she had been introduced to earlier that day including 300mg of morphine, 200mg of tramadol, 30mg of chlordiazepoxide and 2.5litres of cider (Strongbow, of course). It was a reckless, wildly dangerous yet somehow blissful experience.
SWIM felt electric but languid, poetic but silent, delirious yet sharp, alive but motionless, awake in a dream........The night went past in a nebula of contradictions.........
When day broke SWIM felt like the universe’s innermost secrets had been revealed to her, she became a teleological being, her purpose and fate calmly laid out before her....

'I am alive,...
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uh-oh, not back here again

Posted 15-02-2008 at 03:46 by beena (Pipe Dreams)
Well, SWIM kinda screwed up (again) last night. Went to an evening class at uni, which SWIM's teacher and classmates decided should be held in the pub across the road from uni. SWIM had a few vodkas too many and ended up in her mates flat smoking crack. (Deep sigh....)
Well, it wasn't too bad, SWIM didn't go crazy mad on the stuff, but she thought she had some money in the bank as back up and today she realised she does not. So SWIM is back in an all too familiar situation with no food in the house, limited amounts of electricity and ten days to get through b4 funds are available again. Not good.
SWIM was feeling quite low this morning when she woke up, so she missed her morning...
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A Restless Mind

Posted 07-02-2008 at 23:24 by beena (Pipe Dreams)
Updated 07-02-2008 at 23:57 by Heretic.Ape.
I am suffering greatly at the minute with what I can only describe as a restless mind. I am feeling positive about my life, positive about SWIM giving up drugs, positive about returning to university and generally optimistic about life and what life has to throw at me. 'That sounds great', you might be forgiven for thinking, but the thing is everyone around me seems to be moving and talking in slow motion. My mind is racing with about fifteen different ideas per second. I have more thoughts than is humanly possible for my brain to filter through and process. Its like standing still in the middle of a motorway with cars zooming past on either side. What am I doing here?? Why am I here??
...
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