blasfemme

warning: another dreadful, long, sensitive in nature journal post. hey, i warned you...

good morning all and happy memorial day.

odd to wish a "happy" memorial day, seeing as it's meaning is somewhat stark. today will be bittersweet for me...

my friend john died of a heroin overdose a year ago last november. he hasn't had a gravestone because his family couldn't agree on what they wanted. today they place his stone and my boys and i will be there to watch.

john was a very special friend. an oldschool punk who had spent his time on the streets of california. he was a recovered junkie who had found god and become a loving, productive member of society. he worked with kids with mental disabilities, he had the love and patience to do it. he was an all around amazing man, however, john was depressed on a level we never knew.

he had never stopped smoking pot and a back injury tended with vicodin had awakened his former addiction. he came over to my house one eve looking to score some H for a "small buzz". i have never been into heroin, i smoked it once, didn't care for it. i have seen a lot of my friends get taken down by it, i have lost several forever. my ex boyfriend became a heroin junkie after we split. it is a tragic drug.

anyway, having friends that dabbled in the stuff i asked if he was sure this was what he wanted and he said "yes". i made a phone call to the friends i heard had a connection, they could help john out. i took him over and let them do their thing. i watched them smoke it. i took some solace in the fact that they weren't shooting it. john said his taste for the shit had been satisfied. he was done with it again. maybe he really believed that. at any rate, the heroin wasn't done with john.

thursday nite, about a week later, john called and came over. i could tell something was wrong. he didn't seem like himself. he said he had been more depressed than usual but that he was coming around. he fidgeted about for almost 45 minutes before he asked the question, he wanted me to hook him up again. my stomach turned inside. i felt conflicted. i knew he was a grown man and was responsible for his own life but i also realized that without my help he wouldn't have access to the heroin he was craving. against my better judgement i made the call. it was on, they had what he wanted. i asked if i could just send john over as i really didn't want to participate in another night of it. they agreed. that night they injected it.

john was supposed to call and come over on that sunday. we were going to go to guitar center to check out gear. early afternoon came and went with no call. i began to try to track john down. it was unlike him to not call when he said he would. his cell phone was turned off and on the third try to his house phone i received the news...john was dead. he had been found lying on the sofa by his room mate, overdosed. my friend was gone.

i fell into sadness. i took the blame.

i called my friends who had provided the H and gave them the news, the silence was deafening. my friend began to cry. he took the blame too.

in reality, it wasn't either of our faults. a person is going to do what they are going to do. yes i had the pathway but john had the last choice. he had OD'd several times before but always made it through. he knew the risk he was taking. it took me a while to let go of the blame.

so today, a year and a half later, john's grave will finally have a face. the absence of a stone for john has kept me from visiting his grave. i couldn't stand to see this man, who was larger than life, go unrecognized. the bickering of his family overshadowing the loss of one of the greatest friends i have ever known. today john can finally be laid to rest in my mind.

i love and miss you john winnenberg. the world hasn't been the same since you left. rest in peace my friend.




thanks for the indulgence kids, i love you all.



on a much happier note...
single digits now!!!


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