The official "It's gone" post.

Ok I have to at least devote one post to it . . . Surely? To what? . . . I Know, it's probably getting a bit boring, but for my future reference I feel it deserves a short post that I can refer to. After which I will attempt to change the record for a day or two ;-) So here goes  . . . I  best milk it for all it's worth.

I've just chosen not to take heroin for the past five, six, who's counting? days.
Are you sure?
Yes absolutely 100% positive.
How come, what happened?
I can't explain it other than a huge change at some level within me.
Something went, was removed, disappeared. The overwhelming "need" to score and use of an evening . . . The panic at about 8pm if I tried to not score. The persistent texting until I got a result . . . Not being able settle down until after delivery . . . It all just went. That's about it really. Like having a rotten tooth removed. Gone.

I keep half  expecting  dreading it coming back . . . Almost to the point of I daren't even say "But I know it won't" . . . just in case.
It's as though my memory has been wiped. Until . . . I'm asleep.

An hour's nap this afternoon felt like three hours trying to tell my dealer not to come round.
Firstly (in the dream) He called me to say he had stopped supplying . . . I said that's ok because I've stopped using. Then he says "Well obviously I will still get some and you will be on my special list" . . . As I tried to say "No, don't worry, I really have stopped" the connection started breaking up and I couldn't get my message through to him. He kept saying "I can't hear you, but don't worry I will pop round . . . I can't hear a word you're saying, I'll see you later" . . . then I began texting him and as hard as I tried to type the words into the phone . . .  they were not the words appearing on the screen . . . Then he was at the door and I was telling him . . . "No, I really mean No" . . .  Then it's there in front of me, on the foil, and I'm not sure now if I'm trying to say "No"  but that's not what's coming out . . . And so it went on from one scenario to another.

When I awoke, for a split second, I thought I had used. It was a heavy, sinking feeling deep down in my stomach . . . It was good, but a little disturbing, to realise it had all been a dream.

This is not a literal fear as he his not the sort to insist . . . He could hardly be bothered sorting  it when I did want it . . . And I'm easily replaceable. I don't think he'll miss my meagre custom.
It must be more a case of me not quite believing it myself. Of it seeming too good to be true. A fear of not being heard or believed. "All addicts are liars" and all that . . . I didn't even tell my Brother until yesterday.

Ok that's about all I have to say. Just so I know how I felt at this stage. I keep getting secretly very excited about all of these changes actually happening for real . . . Like, if this can happen, then anything is possible.
I almost daren't allow myself to envisage a future with these changes in place . . . As if it will turn out to be a cruel joke or something . . . Am I mad? 
Is it because I didn't suffer to "stop" that I don't feel I've worked hard for it and therefore don't deserve it and the rewards that come with it?
One simple desperate prayer for the strength and ability to say "No"  . . . Granted. Thank God.

Surely soon I will believe it, trust it and bledy well get on and enjoy it?!