December 16, 2015. A Tinker's Cuss – Christmas 2015

Another Xmas is upon us.

At this time of year, we are meant to be with our families and to be all joyous and giving and everything else that goes around under that dear old mulberry tree where life is confusing at best.

At Xmas I always think of my friends who may be stuck on Methadone or may be in rehab or jail and they may even be dead because they couldn't hack the pace. The pace quickens in our electrified and digital age. It's love one day and a landslide the next.

In America in 2013 almost 25,000 people died of prescription drug overdoses and about 16,000 of the deaths were from prescription opiates. Heroin overdoses are not included in these figures. That makes the data all the more frightening. It's not terrorism, it's merely junkies.

Opiate overdose is a very lonely way to die and I've had a lot of mates who went way out west from far too many opiates or the ramifications of using those self-same drugs.

I've overdosed on opiates a few times and spent time in Intensive Care. I'm bound to say they were good drugs. I didn't wake up thinking about politics, I woke up wanting to get loaded again with my mates.

My mates who died were all lonely people and in the end they didn't connect with anyone. They had no possibilities that excited them.

I also have friends who will pick up their methadone a day or two before Xmas and then consume it all at once. They'll end up hanging out on Xmas day and feeling a cold that goes right through to their very marrow. If they had twenty-five heaters in the house it won't make a damn bit of difference. They will have Antarctica within them until they get another dose.

I am speaking as someone who once spent a Xmas Day or two in jail whilst hanging out and that taught me a lot about life. No one is going to come and rescue you because no one can save you from yourself.

Drug addiction… Self-inflicted? I really don't think so. I merely think that a lot of people in the world today do not know what to do with their emotions and feelings.

My year went reasonably well. I have something like 22 completed chapters of my memoir finished and Phantom Billstickers has done well and prevailed over the odds.

I feel loved and that's different for me. I've never really felt loved before. I now like sunshine better than a black jersey and a pair of sunglasses in a dark room.

Thanks to those who stuck to me like glue this year and all the others.

I am a work in progress.

Much Love,
Jim Wilson