 DUANE |
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I was born 33 years ago in Bolton. From what I have been told, the family was pretty unstable. My Father was a singer and was away from home a lot. When he did come home he caused a lot of trouble in the house because of his constant fraternising with other women whilst he was away., causing the marriage to break down. Next my stepfather came along and for no apparent reason at the time, I took a disliking to him. Through my teenage life, I caused a lot of trouble towards my stepfather in every way possible. As a result I was regularly punished, which I now admit that I did deserve. Through my school years I would rebel as much as possible because I couldn’t tolerate being told what to do. Being asked to do something was ok but when I used to see the hint of aggression in peoples faces telling me what do, I would do as much as possible not to do it through disruption. During the second half of primary school I came across a bully who tried to make my life a misery. Through sheer fear, one day I turned on him and gave him a beating. Looking back, I realise this wasn’t the way to go about it, but even today I still do feel that hitting a person is sometimes the only way to solve problems. I’ve seen a lot of bullying in my time. For me, the biggest bullies in school were the teachers. Because of this, if I ever saw a teacher shouting at another pupil, I would go out of my way to be involved, even If it had anything to do with me or not. Just so I could show the teacher that he wasn’t the superior being that could have his own way with the pupils. The bullying continued, and again I lost my temper, but on one occasion I not only hit the bully, but also the teacher as well. Thankfully he did not take any further action, as he must have seen the bullying going on for himself. I used to have a close friend who would take me to his house, which had its own bar, at dinner times. We used to pour ourselves drinks and then go back to school drunk. One day, we went back to school and sat in a Maths lesson. I had drunk a lot more than my friend had. He was suddenly dragged out of the class for being drunk, which was strange because I was sat next to him in a messier state than he was. At the time it was very amusing especially when the teacher came over and said, "I see you have your head down with embarrassment". It wasn’t embarrassment; I just couldn’t keep my head up! The drinking went on for a while until it got to the point that when I was hanging around with friends outside of school we started saving our dinner money up. So we could get a few cans on a Friday night, hang about on the field, building fires and dens, having a good laugh. At around about the same time, I started to take solvents, with a few of the lads that were already doing it. I decided I wanted to try it and decided to take part. It wasn’t just glue, it was anything that could get me ‘off my face’; nail varnishes, petrol. I was never happy just having one sniff till I got high. For some apparent reason I wanted to take it until I passed out. If I didn’t pass out, I wasn’t happy. This didn’t last though, in the end it was just a bit of a fad. I was too interested in being with the lads that weren’t sniffing. In the end I was expelled from school. I couldn’t let lie the fact that teachers had to do their job. They came up with a rule that if you came to school with no tie on, they would send you home. That was the biggest joke I’d ever heard in all my life. It was a good excuse to get to go home though. One particular day, a friend of mine had to go and see the headmaster to show that he had come to school that day with his tie on. I went with him and took mine off which obviously caused an atmosphere. I was taken into the office and given a grilling. I ended up throwing one teacher over a desk and as a result a few weeks later I was up infront of the Board of Education. With it being so close to my exams I was given the option of signing a contract to say that I would behave myself and would be allowed back in the school. I decided it wasn’t going to be that way. I wasn’t going to be pushed around by teachers. I started to hang out outside the graveyard with my girlfriend and we’d go every night, but I’d drink excessively, trying to be one of the ‘big men’. I’d always take it too far. I would have a buzz and a really good time until, I presumed, people turned aggressive towards me or other people in the area around our little ‘click’. I was always at the front of the trouble. I’d always end up fighting; with bus drivers, blokes coming out of the pub, anyone that was in the way ended up getting a smack. My drinking progressed from in the graveyard, into the local pub. When I was in the pub at night times having a few drinks, because of my aggression and being able to ‘handle’ myself at the same time, it was always me that people came to when fighting started. "Were having a bit of trouble, can you come with us for backup"; like an idiot, I used to always go and it was always me that would end up being ‘lifted’ at the end of the day. Every time something kicked off, it was always me at the front of it and me being left to deal with it. But it didn’t stop me. I was unconsciously trying to be the ‘big man’ around town. I started up a relationship with a girl who was to be my future wife. She was a very pretty girl and I moved in with her. I always liked to have all the latest ‘mod-con’s’ and prided my self on my house. I started to buy stolen goods from the heroin users. Every time they had burgled a house, they would fetch the stuff around to me and I would buy it off them. Making lies up that it ‘didn’t work’ just to take it off their hands for as cheap as possible. This went on for a while and eventually one night when I was in the pub somebody came and asked me if they could borrow the car to go and ‘score’. I agreed, and they paid me £30 and took the car to Moss Side. That same night a friend took me back to his house and pulled out a bag full of amphetamine. "Do you want some of this?" Straight away, I said yes and stuck my arm out and he gave it me. Boy what a rush! As soon as I’d experienced that rush, I asked for another straight away. I really wanted another! For the next six months or so I was taking whiz which started to take a big wedge out of the relationship I was in with my future wife. It got that bad, to the point that I was really screwing things up; I’d say "I’m nipping out for ten minutes" and I’d come back 2 or 3 days later. The drugs really messed my mind up and one day my girlfriend came out and said "Listen I’ve booked our wedding, bought the rings and we’re getting married on the 22nd of May". This really shocked me but I didn’t want to turn her down because I didn’t want to get into an argument. The wedding went ahead but when I got home, all that I could think about was disappearing for a ‘dig’ of whiz and a bong. I let everybody into the house for the buffet. I shut the door and shot off for my dig of whiz. When I did come back, we had a bit of an argument because I wasn’t ready to go for the reception party. I told my wife that I would be over there in 10 minutes and to go on ahead of me. Obviously it wasn't to be. Instead of going back to the reception party, I went for more whiz. When I decided to go back at 10pm I found that the cake had been stabbed, certificates had been ripped up and things were rapidly going down hill. I managed to sort things out though thanks to the Gift of the Gab. The ‘smack heads’ would carry on coming round to the house but I eventually got annoyed with them bringing the car back as and when they felt like it. I used to take them to Moss Side where they used to score. It used to make me laugh at how they were nearly killing each other over a ‘line’; "You’ve had one more line than me!" Eventually, it got to the stage when I was having a ‘quick’ line here and there. I would be sick, but that wouldn’t stop me. I was still taking whiz so the gear wasn’t that important to me then. There came a day when I decided that enough was enough with the whiz. I had a dream that a friend came to me that had died in that dream and shouted at me for taking this whiz. It was weird because I cared for this man so much. I had cut myself down to the point were every time I did take it and I was up all night, I would sit on the toilet and have a dig of gear to fetch me down straight away. The relationship rapidly diminished. It got to the point were enough was enough. I packed my bags and left. It broke my heart. It was one of the biggest mistakes of my life. I moved into a flat and continued to take gear, to try and shadow the hurt that I was feeling. I thought to myself that if I took the gear for as long as it would take for me to get over my ex-wife, then I would be sorted, there would be no problem. So I started doing it as much as I could. I started smoking, I started grafting, and I started shoplifting. I had that attitude within me all of the time; "Ill take what I want, I don’t care if they catch me because whoever does will get a smack!" Because of this attitude I was eventually sent to jail in 1995 after being caught on numerous occasions. It was a relief in a way. I spent 10 months in jail. When it came to my release I did not want to go! I know it sounds strange but I did not want to leave the jail because I was going back out to absolutely NOTHING. I didn’t have anything. All that was waiting for me through those gates was that continuous circle of drugs. I was released. My mother put me up. First night, I went into the pub. It was a top night but I went and topped it off with a ‘bag’! I came home with a bag in my pocket. She nipped out to the shop and I put the gear on the foil. I fell asleep straight away. She walked in and all hell broke loose again. I managed to get round it by saying " Its only resin, not that much!" I continued to take smack from then on. I was caught again and sent to various detoxification centres by the courts and the psychiatrist I was seeing. They did me no good. You were 'detected' and then kicked back out into the same circles again. It was a waste of time. I was even ‘using’ in the detoxes! I knew for a fact, there was no point in me coming off it because as soon as I walked through the door I would be on it again because they offer no ‘after support’. I moved to another place in Bolton, found another girl, and was offered a quarter of gear to sell. I started selling from then on. I was buzzing! Nice car, nice house, respect! I sold for a long time and thought everything was brilliant. I had everything I needed. I didn’t realise it was all-false. Then the next minute the door gets kicked in and I’m busted! Now what? I got put on bail, went and bought another quarter and started again, but this time got someone else to do it for me. They continued selling for me for a while. I still had the nice house, the nice car. We were sat in his flat, just bought the gear and the door gets kicked through again and I’m arrested. I was extremely lucky to get bail this time. As soon as I got out the courts, I went and picked my car up. I’ve no idea how I managed to drive my car because I was blind from the ‘rattle’. I scored again. At this point I came to the conclusion that I couldn’t deal anymore as I realised that if I got caught I would go to jail. I made the decision to cut down on my habit before I did get sentenced. I was sentenced to two and a half years. I walked back onto the prison wing and I swear to you, it was just like walking back into my own area. I couldn’t believe it! I kept my habit going for a full 12 months in jail not having to pay for a thing! Every day, 3 times a day, none stop for 12 months. I then did my ‘rattle’. I was like a ‘germ on the side of the toilet’ a real mess!  After my rattle I
still managed to get myself ‘gear’, maybe two or three times a week.
I was trying to sort my head out and decided that I would put myself on
voluntary urine tests. I used to be given codeine for my back problem. I
sometimes used this to my advantage, as it would mask out the traces of
‘gear’ in my samples. I then faced my other charge for the second
‘bust’ and got another three years on top of my original 2 and a
halfyear sentence. When I stood in the dock giving my evidence, I was
‘smacked’ out of my head! So when I was sentenced I had the "So
What?" attitude. I got midway through my sentence and realised that I really
did have to change my act. I knew about rehabs, but I feared them. I thought
they were like ‘cults’; people sat down holding hands, singing
‘Ring a Ring a Roses’. I didn’t realise how stupid my view was.
As I approached my parole date I decided that I was going to make a move, I was
going to make a start! First reason was that I wanted to get out of jail early,
but the main reason was because I really wanted it! I applied to two rehabs off
my own back. Because they were working rehabs, I wasn’t accepted because
of my back problems. Luckily enough a friend of mine gave me the address of the
T.H.O.M.A.S rehab scheme. I applied and was accepted. I was absolutely
buzzing!At the same time, I was nervous and scared because of what I had thought about rehabs in the past. I was that scared that when I finally arrived here I brought gear with me. The lad I was living with in the house was one of my expunters who used to regularly buy drugs from me. Due to the fact that I was so happy to see him I offered him the gear I had brought with me and he accepted. As the day went on he turned around and told me that he actually didn’t want any. So whilst I stood in front of him, I flushed the gear down the toilet just to show him that I was ready! In that instant I realised that I didn’t need to be frightened of rehab any longer! "There is the gear, down the toilet! Lets make a go of it!" I was gutted though because I had just put his recovery in jeopardy but I didn’t realise I was doing that! I had never been to rehab before I was too busy thinking about me! The first few weeks were hard for me because I had come out of prison with a ‘front’. I walked into T.H.O.M.A.S straight out of jail with a front of " I will get on with you but don’t take me for an imbecile ". It was wrong, but I didn’t know that. It was like the process of coming from one jail to another; You are with a bunch of lads who are all addicts so I treated them like I treated the addicts in jail, I didn’t know any different! As time goes on I am really shocked! I can actually feel the change within me. I can feel the new life within me and it feels absolutely brilliant! When I talk about it with others in sessions and meetings I really get a kick out of it. As I am writing this now my hair is standing on end because I really am getting a lot out of what I am doing here at T.H.O.M.A.S. and really feeling the change within me. I’m not perfect, far from it and I’m no where near cured! But the tools that I am being given here to help me through the rest of my life, I can see. I can see a road now which is longer than the one I would have expected to if I would have come out of jail and straight onto the streets. I would have been stuck on the ‘roundabout’ whereas now I can see a future. That is what is giving me the strength that I need to keep me going. I know for a fact, that at the end of these 12 weeks, I will still need a lot of support. I am a strong person, but then again drugs are stronger! They can destroy my life but I don’t want that. I have destroyed my own and many other peoples' lives for years. It is such a rippled effect that it carries on so far; too much to take on board. I’m happy for what I have got now and sooner or later I will learn to love myself for who I am. I’m still finding it difficult at the moment because of what I have done in my past. I’ve finally come to terms with it. It’s all about acceptance. I can learn from my mistakes. I really hope that there are lots of other people who will give this place a chance. Don’t walk out the door! It’s too easy! I’ve thought about it myself because of serious problems that I have had; problems of being with my son. What good would that have been? Yes, I would have been with him, but for how long? Until I could find somewhere to score! I would have been hiding upstairs like I used to do, ‘having a toot’, that would be no good. Whereas once I have done my recovery now, I can be with my son, fully, not ‘partially’. At the end of the day I’m doing this for me, this is MY life and MY future and I think everyone should give it a go!!! |
