The Portal Diaries – Part 3

The Accidental Survivor

- Friendly fire

I’m not the type of woman who makes New Year’s resolutions. I had a miserable 2009. The way I see it, it’s MY misery and I’m gonna keep on fucking with it, till I’m finished with it, or 'it' with me. The last thing I’m about to do is let a calendar, a clock or eight minutes of pyrotechnics at midnight – tell me how I’m supposed to be feeling.

So it’s January the 4th and I’m back on the gear…

It was a combination of Co-Dydramol, Codeine, Amitriptyline, Temazepam and others. I don’t trust doctors – they write down too much. So I got the pills another way (there’s always another way). I had asked for Vicodin; a drug I was introduced to in LA and missed like an old friend. But you can’t get it over here.

At first I took ‘em to sleep (I think). Nah, I’m lying to you…I took ‘em to take a break from my predicament. – My predicament being, myself.

The first time, I wasn’t trying to die. I was just enjoying (via the pills) not being me for a while. ‘Cept, this nagging voice in my subconscious kept asserting that if I didn’t take a couple more, then I’d return to being me again. It was like being fixed to the shoreline of a beautiful beach, and loving the feeling of the water lapping over your feet, but not getting to fully enjoying it, cos you were constantly worrying about the tide; coming in or going out. So I swallowed more – to quash the doubt (and enjoy the feeling a little longer). It was, of course, wrong, cowardly and pathetic…it was what it was. The alchemist in me liked the power, the control, the lights glistening on the water and the warmth. I WAS NOT trying to die (no way!). I just wasn’t trying to stop.

It had been going on for about 12 hours – around 4am I got hungry. Only an Arab woman could be filled with more pills than the local vets; on the verge of an accidental overdose and still be thinking of FOOD. I went to the kitchen (I took the long way round, touching all the walls en route like a legless Helen Keller). I opened the undercounter fridge and knelt on the kitchen floor to have a good look inside. Then fell asleep…as you do when you’re accidentally overdosing.

The refrigerator ‘Door Open Alarm’ is what woke me (it sounds after about 5 minutes). I never even knew my fridge had that facility – I recall thinking – Gosh! What good taste in white goods you have.

I had been taking “the gear” with cartons of pink grapefruit juice – to keep up my 5-A-Day. How ridiculous is that? – A nice healthy drink to wash down the opiates with. I made my noodles. I came back into the bedroom, and promptly threw up the juice & tablets I'd been foraging on all day. I vomited into the bathtub – I’m a lady – I don’t stick my head down no toilet. The vomit was fast, pink and plentiful – it was Marks & Spencer’s best pink grapefruit juice after all. Had I of put the plug in, the vomit would have filled the bath at least an inch deep. – I had no idea I had so much water in me.

I ate the noodles (death weren’t gonna stop me from eating) and slept. It wasn’t a cry for help…I wasn’t crying…it was just an accident I had three months ago. The first time was just an accident.

I wonder if that’s how everyone does it – not meaning to – just trying to get away from one’s self for a spell.

To be continued…

Mission Statement
This story may be true. Then again, it may be untrue. I’m not sure it matters anymore. However, it is not a cry for help or a bleedin’ heart. It is just a story, a story to be enjoyed…like a snoop through someone else’s porn. This story is my way of finding humanity in the recollection of ‘I’ and salvation, in the promise of ‘YOU’. So please enjoy, comment, follow, and read on.


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