Men vs Woman in Bathrooms

After a discussion I had this morning with a group of people I decided to pose these questions to blogworld:

Apparantly there was a discussion yesterday on Jacaranda 94.2 regarding what men and woman talk about in their different gym bathrooms. I find it quite interesting how the two genders react differently in these environments. What do you all do in there?

Another question I am just burning to ask is what people think when two men accompany each other to the bathroom in the same way that woman so naturally do?

And finally do women out there bath or shower together? And dare I ask… if so, do men do it aswell?

"Until I die (Part 2)"

Thursday, 13 March 2008
Current Recovery - "Until I die (Part 2)"


Continues from Part 1…


It was finally happening. After so many times of thinking it I was killing myself.

Something hit me, like Fred Flinstone clobbering me with a piece of wood, if I do this now… who was going to find me? My brother was in the next room, my parents were away, nobody else was there. If I continue this, my brother, whose life had been disrupted by this so much already, was going to find me. How could I even dare also doing this to him?

Fred hit some sense into me. I suddenly remembered why I haven’t slit my wrists yet, why I haven’t drank a bottle of pills, ran in front of a car or just pulled a gun and shot myself – I was too afraid to die. I didn’t want to die. Even when, quite ironically, I was slowly killing myself with heroin, I didn’t want to die. Not now! Not this way!

There is no sure way to get yourself out of that situation. I was on the verge of overdosing but I had a few tricks up my sleeve to at least get my heart rate up again. I am not one that usually remembers my dreams but I know I had a dream about getting heroin that night. I knew, even in that state of sleep, that my first action the next morning would be to score heroin again!

Nothing changed… at least that is the way it seemed!


Part 3 continues...

"Until I die (Part 1)"

Wednesday, 12 March 2008
Current Recovery - "Until I die (Part 1)"

I only have a few days left before I have to go to Rehab and I’ll give you more detail as we get closer. I struggled with this next post for a while. I wanted to post it because I felt it crucial in a story on my recovery, but I didn’t want to be accused of seeking sympathy or attention by revealing it. So after long thought I decided that nobody’s opinion of me will sensor what I write on this blog. My strength in my recovery came from the honesty I showed by telling my story and lying or keeping things now would not lead to a recovery!

Over the past few months’ people have on more than one occasion told me that I must just inject myself until I die. Some even went as far as to say that they hope it kills me and even though it might sound morbid some are waiting for the day that it does! Of course, most of this is said and done in anger, but angry is how I’ve left most of the people that know me. Whether they mean it or not the fact is some are thinking what a world would be like, where I just disappear with this problem of mine. It never really bothered me that much, it never really hit home until I actually tried to do it…

Inject myself until I die, they say. It is not difficult to do. As long as the money holds there was nothing stopping me. I started injecting myself one shot after the other. It only took a few seconds for each one of the shots to spread through my body. I reached the point where, if the money allowed it, I took 10-12 shots a day. So, it took a while for me to reach that nauxious feeling. It was a familiar feeling building up in my throat and stomach. I overdosed before and I knew I was close again, this time willingly!

Inject myself until I die. My body was telling me something was wrong. There were warnings throughout my body but I wasn’t going to react to them like I have done many times before. I was going to do it. I was going to give them what they wanted, give them what they asked for every time they spoke to me, give them what they needed to move on with their lives!

Shot after shot entered my arm and it started to look like a Swiss cheese from all the holes I was making. I didn’t need to hide them away, not this time! I didn’t need to worry how it would look tomorrow. There wasn’t going to be a tomorrow. My body started to go numb and my breathing and heart rate slowed down almost completely. It was finally happening!


Part 2 continues...