This is a post about desperation. This is a post about rotting flesh. This is a post about the point I got when I was using where I cared so little about my body, I would take a syringe full of blood and hot bacteria laden black tar heroin and shove the syringe through my pants leg and into my skin because I was sick. This is a post about the time when your nose is running and you are dry heaving and no one understand the tears running down your face are because you don't know if you are going to sneeze or use the bathroom on yourself. That is what the post is about- those times.I was never much of a self contained person. I always seem to let me emotions leak where I ever I go in some kind of outburst. There are as many kinds of users as there are starts in the sky. In the course of history, there are have been millions, make a billion users of all types of substances. There is also a unique set of users. That classification falls on the hope to die dope fiend. The hope to die dope fiend has gotten to the point that they will go to whatever extremes to stay full of chemicals 24 hours A day seven days a weeks. So, when that person starts coming down, the fall to the ground is hard and ugly.I would put my former self in that category. At a certain point down the rabbit hole to drug induced self destruction, a person seems to not notice the changes to their physical being. MaybeI am starving. Maybe I am picking at myself. Maybe I have this cavity I am fully ignoring. Maybe my leg is rotting off from an abscess.I had not changed the bandage for a month. I intially went to get the wound treated. They gave me a bag full of saline, bandages, and alchohol wipes. Living outsside, I had placed these items behind my head one night when I went to sleep. Someone stole my medical supplies. I imagine them in the trap house "I got that good gause, I got that saline." I was afraid to change my clothes many times because when you live outrside, you are surrounded by predators. So, the hole festered as my life festered right under the surface. I knew it was there but I used to ignore it as I used to ignore the parallel mess that was my life. Finally, the bandage started to stink. you could smell it three feet away. I was JUST about to change it (I was-really) but I got busted getting high in an alley first and was taken to jail. Well, not right away. First the police argued about letting me go because neither one of them wanted to deal with me at the hsopital. My pants had fused to the wound and had to be cut off of my body.There is not real moral of the story. I almost lost my leg and I got better. I got out of jail a few months later and went back to using. Not everyone does these crazy things. These are the crazy things that I did because I just did not care about myself more than I cared about getting high. And guess what- I don't do these things anymore.Please use sterile techinique. Please go to the doctor if you see an infection. I have known people to lose arms, legs, and there lives from these infections. An alcohol wipe and a clean needle may literally save a life. Be kind to yourself.