And you run and you run to catch up with the sun but it’s sinking

And racing around to come up behind you again

The sun is the same in the relative way but you’re older

Shorter of breath and one day closer to death.

These are the middle part of Pink Floyd’s Time from the Dark Side of The Moon album. If I’m allowed only three songs in this lifetime, this is one of them.

The quirky title: that’s because I’m not going to write a real post yet right now; and this one doesn’t count as one. Not in my books, because I had wanted to write on something else – the period after I became addicted when I was in my teenage years.

I had planned to write at least twice every month at this blog. But I didn’t – not even once in the last six weeks.

Then I went to KelantanBloggers. It’s been months since I was there – during the Manek Urai by-elections to be exact. There was power at that directory. After looking at the 278 blogs carried by KelantanBloggers, something happened – I could feel it… I wanted to write. That’s why I’ve started up Windows Live Writer and hacking this.

Was I busy? Yes, very – I’ve just remembered that it’s now exactly 12 months since this state of being gainfully occupied. And I’ve been at it ever since.

There’s the bread-and-butter articles-writing, of course. This includes the writing/sub-editing job with an educational magazine. You might remember I had gotten it after attending the interview in Bukit Kiara, KL in November last year – something made possible by Sherry Nor-Jannah and Nazmi, who had persuaded me to go.

There’s also the book reviewing, which brings in a hundred ringgit or two a month. It comes with the added bonus and benefit of having books on a regular basis in my life. For this I’m truly grateful. I can’t imagine now how I had passed all those weeks, months and years without having access to books – something that most people here take for granted.

If you love reading, try to imagine this – not having anything new to read. That was the situation from 2000 to mid-2006… 6½ YEARS. There wasn’t any collection of `real’ books to reread either. I remember how in desperation I had read some pages of the Oxford Advanced Learners Dictionary. Yes, I read a dictionary – this should give an indication of how deprived I was.

Occasionally, someone might ask me to do one-off editing, writing or translating work. So, most of the time I’d be right here, rooted to this very same spot. It does get lonely – I hope I’ll be able to get a television set here. It’s pretty boring looking at words almost all of the time. But at least I now have a mini-compo; thanks to you kind bloggers who were at Damansara last November. For the first time in 11 years, I now have a tolerable sound equipment.

The most important thing is that, for the first time since December 1999, I was/am legitimately working. This has been a critical factor in helping me and my children. For the first time in 11 years, I could support myself and my children. And I’m doing things that I like and choose; in a manner that I had dreamed of and planned since more than 10 years ago. I’m thankful to all those people who had helped me; including bloggers Mat Salo and Elviza.

Now, I’m trying to consolidate what I have. At the same time, I hope to launch new things… and try bring to reality new dreams.

There’s usually – but not always – something memorable during each Hari Raya Aidilfitri. And sometimes these are nowhere near joyous, for I’ve had Rayas that were bleak and despondent. Interestingly, all these were during the years that I was addicted, which makes the correlation obvious to all but those who choose to be in denial.

Hari Raya – I’ve had so many depressing ones from the year 1996 onwards that I had grown to dislike the approach of this season. In my mind, there was the thought that something unpleasant would happen. And sure enough, it did… all sorts of incidents that brought about negative feelings would happen. For instance, the Raya of 2005: it was like the six preceding it when it comes to being forlorn and despairing… except that it was even worse. That was the raya which I had spent in the dank Cell 3 of the Pasir Mas police lockup, awaiting transportation for a two-year “Treatment & Rehabilitation” at Pusat Serenti Gambang. And that came after spending three months in the harsh confinement of the Pengkalan Chepa prison.

Anyway, that was what I had written about in a post here before this one. Unfortunately, something close to a `digital tragedy’ happened (which is why you don’t see the post here). I was moved to write that post on the first day of Raya after reading something that a good friend in Kajang, Risma Danial had written at her Facebook page: “sedihnya dengar takbir raya” (How mournful it is to hear the Raya takbir). It immediately brought about those memories inside that lockup – at a time when I know everyone outside was happy.

I was writing that post by using the online blog editor at WordPress.com, and I was probably “three-quarters completed”. If you know how long I’d often write here, then you’ll agree that it was “reasonably long”. Normally, I’d use a desktop/offline blog editor – either Windows Live Writer (which was introduced by the great Mat Salo of Borneo Blues; and which I’m using now), or Zoundry Raven (freeware, with enough frills but nowhere near the bells and whistles of Windows Live Writer of course). I had also wanted to try a Firefox addon – Zemanta, which some bloggers and reviewers had given enthusiastic comments about.

CAPTION: I had failed to notice that there is a special plug-in for Windows Live Writer until just a moment ago when I went to take a screenshot of Zemanta (see the link below the one for Firefox)! That means users don’t have to use the Web version-plus-Firefox to use Zemanta. Would have saved me the heartache had I known about this earlier! *30/9 POSTSCRIPT: Had downloaded this plugin for Windows Live Writer – it kept crashing WLW and I had to uninstall it.

Then the disaster struck – Firefox crashed. Now that’s not unusual because I’ve had this happen fairly regularly (but like the hardcore sucker that I am, I keep returning to it. It’s because of the addons and extensions – I just love them). Incidentally, ArahMan7 had mentioned it in his status update at Facebook just a couple of hours before that. Anyway, I had taken precautions by saving the draft once every so often when writing it. After I restarted Firefox, I went back for it. My throat went dry when only the first paragraph came out. A check of saved “Earlier Versions” returned the same results – my almost-finished post had essentially disappeared! “Rewrite it”, you say? Yes, I could. But I won’t, for I have other things to do. Let’s just consider it as what most Malays would say: Tak ada rezeki (Not fated to have it) [In case you’re wondering why I’d often include the English translation, it’s because of my very good friend, David].

“The time before dawn is the darkest”, goes a saying. It was true for me – after that Raya where I was almost in despair, the ones that followed were markedly positive. In fact, the one that immediately followed – Raya 2006 in Pusat Serenti Gambang/PKAADK Kuantan (very near the offices of Sherry Nor-Jannah and her husband Nazmi) – was, unexpectedly, among the best that I’ve ever had. God Bless the National Anti-Drugs Agency (AADK) officers, its policemen & women, and my fellow Gambang & PKAADK residents for this memory.

After that Raya of such magnificence, meaning and joy, I knew that realistically, it would be extremely difficult to equal with the ones to follow. As such, I wasn’t too disappointed with Raya 2007 at home here. At least there weren’t any negative moments or thoughts. It was also the first time in more than a decade that I was clean during Raya when `living outside’.

CAPTION: The following people surely deserve to be recognised and remembered as the title. If they don’t, then who does?

The following Raya 2008 was memorable and pleasant – through this blog, I had come to know the couple of Sharifah Nor-Jannah and Nazmi Azahar and their family. Now a few of you might roll your eyes and think, “Why are they, and especially Sherry, mentioned so often and so much here?” It’s only because of this: that they, and she especially, had covered for me so often and so much. To tell the truth, I haven’t mentioned even 10 percent of what they had done. As time goes by, I feel I could reveal a few of these as the opportunity and situation arises.

They had started as my link to society. One of the reasons why recovering addicts fail to rejoin society is this – distrust of people. Actually, over the following months, I did encounter people and incidents which might tend to justify this. However, at the same time, I had also known people who have contributed immensely to my life. This, I suppose, neutralises the negative episodes.

After 12 months, they have become crucial factors – people whom I’d trust with my life. And no, I’m not exaggerating with the last sentence. Sherry had helped to comfort and handle some moments of inner turmoil which might have provoked negative reactions from me. One specific example occurred early this year when I was emotionally hurt, disappointed and angered after seeing  some deceitful manoeuvres against my interests where people had taken advantage of my previous record. In defiance, I had wanted to give the middle finger to society, religious figures and institutions and everyone else – I was going to do whatever they disliked, regardless of the effects to me.

Fortunately, an extremely timely call from her when she “had sensed” (which were often right) something wrong helped to pull me back from the verge of entering the morphine abyss again. How near was I then? Less than 200 metres… and walking in `the right direction’. Her voice – those who had spoken with her would know – the calm, comforting and bubbly voice that to me signifies all that is good with people… it was powerful enough to persuade me to turn the other way.

If there are people disappointed that their theory – which they had repeatedly expounded to all and sundry (but never daring to do so when “those who can and would contradict” were within earshot) – that “Mat will get addicted to morphine again soon due to his troubles”… well, blame Sherry Nor-Jannah for being the main obstacle. And Nazmi. And Shakirah Zain, Tehsin, Mekyam, Zara, Norfadzilah,  Elviza…

Speaking of which… Raya 2009 recently – it was memorable because of Elviza Michele Kamal who runs the Write Away blog. In the minds of many, she’s associated with the “Sleepless in Setiawangsa” series (and continually annoying her readers with her delay in not writing a book from that). She’s also the person who has appeared the most times in the post title here for some reason or another. This is one of the glamorous bloggers with a sizeable and devoted following – see the number of Page Hits there plus the people who comment. This is a name that is synonymous with “elegant sentences”. To my mind at least.

She’s also the target of occasional anonymous sniping over errors which only a nitpicking faultfinder would ever highlight. And someone was enraged (no, it’s not to do with`outraged’ where the afflicted might have had some justification) when she was invited to write a column for the Malay Mail. From what I see, the overriding motive is jealousy. Now this anonymous person (this kind never dare to come out in the open) tried to spray her/his venom on Elviza. If you folks read the comments, the criticisms she hurled are way too harsh; with Elviza’s errors grossly magnified. But on at least one occasion, this anonymous whiner found herself on the other end of an industrial-grade, acidic reply from some indignant reader of Elviza’s column.

I hope Elviza won’t ever be discouraged by this kind. If anything, that’s another proof that one is “on the way up” – the increased visibility attracts more attention as compared to one near the bottom. But let’s come back to the main matter in this longish post…

CAPTION: `Jealousy’ is also an element in Alexandre Dumas’ The Count of Monte Cristo

I had known about Elviza coming back to Kelantan during the Raya holidays. And she did mention – not once but a few times – that she’ll visit me. It’s fortunate that I had met with her before last November in Kuala Lumpur – something that wasn’t planned. As some of you would know, I still have the shyness factor which many might say is on the extreme side. Well, that’s what years of addiction can do to you; by leaving scars in the form of inferiority complex, guilt, shame and worthlessness.

Fortunately, thanks to the happenings over the past year or so – and regardless of the divorce matter – this shyness isn’t too extreme anymore. I think. Knowing that Elviza would most probably come to my house with her husband Jafree and three-year-old Luqman made me just a little nervous. For this, I have to thank all of you who had helped in one way or another to build back my confidence and self-worth, and wanting to be a part of society. I have to mention Sheila especially, whose direct and indirect contribution had been enormous.

With Elviza, I had been in rather regular contact over the past 12 months; ever since she gave me a pleasant surpise by sending a Selamat Aidilfitri on the first day of Raya last year. I was elated actually (ah, only now does she know!) – I’m one of the readers who would patiently wait for her new posts after discovering her blog. There was something about her writings – apart from the elegance – that was attractive and engrossing.

Sherry Nor-Jannah loved Elviza’s  blog too – except that she was an even bigger fan who adored Elviza to the extent of not daring to even send in a comment! (Heheh, I’m revealing things today). And one day I did something for her which was `little’, but certainly not inconsequential as I discovered later. I and Sherry had already been a Friend of Elviza in Facebook. Then, on a desire to do something nice to Sherry to express my gratitude for giving me faith and confidence to face life, I contacted Elviza by SMS. I mentioned about Sherry, gave her number and asked Elviza to send a short message. This she did – and had also called Sherry.

She was excited by this and sent me a couple of SMS to thank me. Sherry mentioned about “a dream come true” when she received that call from Elviza. I didn’t know it was that precious to her. It was one of those moments when I was truly touched – knowing that Sherry became this happy as a result of my action released tears down my cheeks.

CAPTION: My Name is Red by Orhan Pamuk, winner of the Nobel Prize in Literature 2006. I don’t usually read fiction but this is one which is giving me a lot of pleasure (am almost halfway through the 508 pages novel)

And last week, Elviza did it again by making me happy. She had planned to visit on Fri Sept 18 just a bit after Isyak. Unfortunately, she suffered food poisoning after breaking fast that day from eating etok (a type of mollusc). Knowing her busy schedule, I had thought that it would be another time in the future before she might be able to come. Apparently, she wasn’t content to give up that easily.

On the first night of Raya (Sun Sept 20), I received a SMS at 10.30PM from her enquiring whether I was already asleep and whether it was okay to come over. This is something that I appreciate – of her contacting first before dropping by. She was coming from Kota Bharu, and although it was night and that my house is in the rural area, I felt she would find it easily enough. I then waited by the roadside with a flashlight; and my youngest son, Iman, had his motorcycle’s light on to signal her. And pretty soon, an expensive-looking vehicle slowed down. I was surprised to see that she had driven alone (Luqman had slept and Jafree had stayed with his son).

CAPTION: The Brothers Karamazov by Fyodor Dostoevsky. This will take some reading (1,045 pages in small print). But I will definitely read it. Fortunately, I’m no longer intimidated by the 19th Century Russian writers for I had read a digital version of Crime and Punishment a few months before I was arrested in 2005. And David had sent a book comprising a collection of the author’s shorter stories that include Notes from the Underground when I was at Gambang in 2006.

Elviza must have been surprised to see so many people at my in-laws’ house (My sister-in-law’s big family were there; as is their tradition during each Raya holiday). And Elviza was a hit with them! She might have been surprised that my brothers-in-law and everyone else were quite okay with me (My ex-wife didn’t come out though). She was here for an hour and left for home at 12.30AM.

The 12 months from the last `Sherry Nor-Jannah Raya’ to this one: I thank Allah for all the joys and fortunes that have come my way. Like the one in 2006 when I was at Gambang, my life has turned into one that I now find purpose in living.

Here’s a `Money-Back Warranty’, sort-of, when it comes to anyone abusing opiates in drugs derived from the poppy plant – opium, morphine and heroin: s/he will get into all sorts of problems and troubles within 12 months; 100% guaranteed… you can bet your house on it.

I hope you folks won’t mind too much that cocksure declaration. But this is something from my own experiences, observation of others plus various levels of research over the years. It may not be academic and have scientific rigour, or sanctioned by any relevant bodies.

But I’ve been there – I’ve been in that situation where one’s mind and body are under the control of a powerful and evil master called drug addiction… `penagihan dadah’ - a phrase that strikes fear in the hearts of parents, families and communities. Addiction generally means “lives moving towards destruction”; and “families traumatised, in misery, their present and future threatened”.

Just what is it that makes heroin addiction such a deadly enemy? Note that I have taken care to stress that the real problem is not heroin but the addiction. Some of you might be confused with this – “Why not villify heroin too, for isn’t it the same?”

No, the real problem isn’t the substance – it’s people who use them. Do we villify bacteria? No, because it brings good results too. Heroin – or diacetylmorphine – is favoured by many doctors as the prefered medication to help bring relief to someone in severe pain.

The problem are those people who abused it – myself included, of course. And this is part of the reason why I’m writing this particular post: hoping that the information and perspectives gained over the years might help readers “to understand better”. Maybe he has family members or subordinates who are addicted; and he’ll be in that same situation as thousands of others who, despite trying this and that to help, will see the affected person slide ever deeper into the morass of addiction.

[By the way, I was writing a different post - a fourth anniversary of my arrest and time in prison. Then I hit an emotional roadblock - a few actually. Despite discussing it with a few trusted advisors, I still couldn't continue. That means "It's not the right time yet", so I'll write about something else - this one]

I was first addicted to heroin during Form Five of 1976 (See last October’s post of The powder of joy. There was something after that but I can’t remember what month it was). Within three years, I was to see the insides of a mental ward, registration at two rehabilitation centres, the insides of three police stations and lockups, plus a prison too. And I hadn’t reached my 19th birthday yet…

CAPTION: From Phrases.org.uk - “monkey on [one's] back”: Drug addiction, considered as a financial, physical, mental, and moral responsibility; the drug habit; lit., a strong addiction that one spends most of one’s energy to support. –Common addict use, now universally known.

The problem with drugs – and especially heroin, which is the most potent of all – is its addictive nature. It grips you mentally and physically – if you don’t take x amount after k hours since the last dose, the withdrawal process starts.

First, it’s just a feeling of tiredness while being irritable; and you’re not in the mood for anything else. This will get progressively worse until you reach a state where you can’t think of anything else. Your mind – and aching body – want only heroin… only heroin and nothing else will do! (See this scientific and technical information: What is Heroin?)

One of the things that I’m grateful for is that I did not neglect my preparation for the MCE. But my performance during the examinations in November was affected somewhat. There were a couple of mornings when I couldn’t get a dose of fit before I went into the examination hall (spiked in a Lucky Strike cigarette, with the paper kept moist to slow down the burn rate). And one of that was during the English Language paper – something that I – and my teacher and friends – had targeted for the perfect score of A1. I hope this doesn’t sound boastful, but it was something within my capability.

I was in slight withdrawal when the paper started; cursing the guy tasked to `adjust’ the stuff for four of us (He had gone to the pusher’s on my motorbike – a secondhand Yamaha LS3 100cc). He was delayed, and only arrived 10 minutes after the paper had started. He nodded at me and touched his shirt pocket – the heroin’s there. But it had to be after the paper…

I was quite uneasy with writing the essays. The topics were okay (but I can’t remember what they were). However, I wasn’t happy with “the flow”. And it was maddening that my mind wasn’t fully on improving the essays – it was also thinking about the heroin in my friend’s pocket. Later, we learned why he was delayed – there were “strange people” (possibly detectives from out of town) hanging around in the vicinity, so the pusher had refused to sell.

Then the MCE results were announced about four months later. In my class (the last class), only two had obtained Grade 1 – and I was one of them, despite an F9 (Failed) in Mathematics which I had zero interest in. I and my family were happy with the distinctions (A’s): Bahasa Malaysia, History, Literature, Religious Studies. But it was bitter-sweet, for I obtained `only’ C3 for English. Suffering from withdrawal had definitely been costly. Two students from the top class – both of whom I had beaten during the trial exam – obtained A1…

I realised that Form Six was going to be a lonely affair – all my friends failed to qualify. There was an influx of new faces in the school – students from elsewhere who had excelled in the MCE and `were rewarded’ with a place at the premier Sultan Abdul Hamid College. And for the first time in my life, I was in a class that also had girls!

I had a lot of difficulties adjusting to life in Form Six. Actually, I never did. Without the comfort and security of having my Form Five friends, the Form Six block felt alien. During Lower Six, I never once spoke to any of the girls – what was there to talk about?

And I had only scorn and disdain for one particular boy who kept attempting to merhenyih (the people from the North know this term) with the prettiest girl in my class – Insun was her name. Maybe Sherry Nor-Jannah might retort with a Ni kes jeles kot?” Haha! NO, I just hate fakes. And I should know about this boy – we were in the same class for four years in primary school.

As an aside, there’s this thing that I should add despite it not really being too relevant to this post: about the “SAHC Prettiest Girl”. Four years later, in 1982 at a secondary school in Pasir Mas, I saw the Form Six girls for the first time. My mind immediately went back to this Insun – the `average’ (quite many of them) in this Pasir Mas school were already prettier than her. Sorry, Insun… and SAHC. And to the readers too: Not being sexist or what, but just stating a fact.

Anyway, during Lower Six from May 1977, I was just dazed and confused. The new environment was one of the reasons. But there was something a lot bigger – I was well and truly hooked to heroin. By that time, a large part of my time and energy were chanelled towards finding the wherewithal to obtain heroin.

It was a taxing situation to be in. I didn’t want to be using every single day, but with heroin the choice isn’t yours. When you’re addicted to it, you do its biddings… no two ways about it. Unless you want to suffer the excruciating withdrawal, of course. So if heroin says “Jump”, your response is “How high? I’ll do so now…”

It wasn’t a sustainable or tolerable situation for me but I just didn’t know what to do. I had acted cool; that things were A-okay. My elder sister was doing a medical degree overseas… the pride of the family and clan. And pretty soon, her younger brother would most probably be in England to study Law, and then return to also enter politics and work towards becoming an elected representative… that was what the father had voiced out hopefully a few times.

This only son, since Form Three, actually wanted to be a journalist and writer. But at that moment, there were other, more crucial things to face. Quite unknown to most people, he was in reality just a confused and perplexed teenager who was about to see how the vicious power of addiction was going to crush and mangle him, and dissolve all those high hopes placed upon his unworthy shoulders.

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Noor Azman Othman

A routine status update at Facebook earlier this morning had led me to a new idea that could help myself and my two sons financially. It was from the person above whom I had written a post about when I first started this blog in August 2008… a “fellow traveller on this journey towards recovery”.

Noor Azman or ArahMan7 is believed to be Malaysia’s first recovery blogger, with his site at My Journey to Recovery. It was a very important blog to me… because it gave me the confidence to start this one. It’s quite remarkable that I had discovered it on my very first day as a blogger. I had known quite a bit about ArahMan7 over the past year – and vice versa. And I must say that I’m grateful for having known him.

This is a very important part in the recovery process that people like us go through – knowing of someone else who had faced the same destructive power that was drug addiction and someone who is adapting to and living life on life’s terms. There is this empathy that can only exist between people with shared experiences – people who know what it was like to see your life spiraling down, with material possessions slipping away, personal relationships becoming brittle and often broken.

They also know about that obsession and compulsion to still continue with drugs despite seeing our lives declining to a deplorable level. They also know the guilt and torment, and the shame of bringing about hardship, stress and tension to those closest to us. And they also know of how some members of society view and treat those with a drug record.

CAPTION: Respectable member of society who feels he’s a few levels better than drug addicts, active or recovering. This kind emits signals of expecting you to hold him in awe; always nodding your head and agree with everything that he says.

With ArahMan, I’m fortunate to have someone who is genuinely interested to help. And I do know that he is genuinely happy when he hears of good things happening to me. Previously, I had had this thing nagging me: Would he somehow `feel threatened’ by the existence of “a newcomer”  who might usurp his position and standing in Blogosphere?

CAPTIONS: (Left) Kampung loud-mouthed, expert-in-everything including religion. (Right) Expert when it comes to… Everything. Including on drugs, treatment and rehabilitation. Also possess ability to know whether someone is on drugs or not. Craves being at the centre of attention. Both were last spotted at the Pasir Mas Mahkamah Syariah on March 25

No ArahMan didn’t -  In fact he told me about his admiration of my seeming nonchalance and ease in moving in and out of the local SoPo Blogosphere; and that I dared to leave comments on various issues at the top sites that include Rocky’s Bru and Raja Petra Kamarudin’s Malaysia Today.

I had wanted to be involved in the same projects that he has experience in. And ArahMan is the type of guy who isn’t “kedekut ilmu” (secretive and selfish with what he knows). Over a few emails and SMS messages, he had given me an idea about the online business entities at his blog like BuyBlogReviews etc. The first thing to do was to get a PayPal account.

I’m still stuck in the rut I was in since ArahMan had told me to get that account. Immediately after that, I was, by the Grace of God, deluged with work – I had given all of my time to “Writing for the papers & Sub-editing job”. Have to ensure regular income first, and ArahMan understands…

Then I saw this new website by him that I was not aware of: Blog Beginners. Excellent name! I had Bookmarked and also put it at the sidebar of my two blogs… besides sending a tweet at Twitter.

I’m happy to see all those business-related links on the right. I think ArahMan has gotten it right – SPOT ON – with this one. I can see and feel things clicking from the inter-connectedness and synergies of the posts and online business paraphernalia…

When (note it’s not `If’) he strikes the first or half million ringgit, many of us will be spurred to better our own situations and try to get a bit of the online wealth.

BTW I have vested interest in the smooth running and success of this. Now that things are more stabilised, I’m going to continue with my original plans – plus additions. I’ve just been struck with this idea – getting my two sons involved in this too.

The eldest (24) has been jobless since two months ago. And he’s one who doesn’t want to continue with higher education Sigh… He’s thin like me, and it breaks my heart to think about the tough and tiring jobs that he had done. But what qualifications and skills does he have?

Iman and Mat Yin July 5

And Iman: getting a diploma in Multimedia is the priority. He’s quite savvy with online entertainment stuff, and knows about Paypal. Well, I’d love to introduce him to ArahMan’s site here. That’s what I’m dreaming of now – Me and my two boys working together developing ours… following the path you as the trailblazer had opened for Malaysians and “people like me”

[BTW it came to my attention that the two simians above had gone around telling those who cared to listen that "Mat's children... none of them gives him any thought or care... they just ignore Mat"]

Whatever ArahMan’s success, I can honestly and sincerely say that I’m happy. And I know that it’s the same with him should I land the jackpot. Yes, folks: Knowing Noor Azman Othman 11 months ago has been a big positive in my life.

If anyone had asked who I loved most in this world, I would have said it was Iman, my youngest; born in November 1991. That was a time when I was still clean. However, that moment of stupidity was looming – the re-introduction to opiate which resulted in the horrendous relapse that later took away almost everything that I had; besides bringing distress and suffering to those near.

And they included Iman – the sweet, kind-hearted little boy; always trusting and uncomplaining… a Gift and a Trust from God whom I was blessed to have. The thought and knowledge that I had failed him with that irresponsible addiction, which fouled up my sense of priorities and had caused the frequent neglect of him and his siblings by not fulfilling my responsibilities a lot of the time – the feelings of guilt, worthlessness and self-hatred that accompanied these were the biggest torment of all.

SCREAM – This one from Pink Floyd “The Wall” is among the more accurate graphics to represent `tormented’  

There was the confusion, the sense of hopelessness and the despair of the situation… “Hope” is what that keeps us moving on no matter what the circumstances. But in my situation then, it was almost all gone and nearing zero when it comes to hope. “Almost”, however, was the all-important adverb in that instance; because no matter how minuscule or minute it had remained, that was what had kept me from doing the irreversible in “the ultimate attempt to escape”. That thought of failing your children, the pure and innocent – the crushing weight it heaped upon you was the worst suffering I had ever felt.

I sometimes hear this kind of talk by others: “Drug addicts just don’t care about their families. If they do, they would have stopped their addiction immediately.”

I’m not really going to contradict and refute that. At the same time, and based on my own experiences, I certainly don’t agree with the above either. It’s not that simple: that part about “don’t care” – the Malay term is “tak ambil peduli”: I know that I did… despite the addiction.

Often, during my time of active addiction – and also when I was in prison and at Pusat Serenti Gambang especially, I’d wonder about what it was that had kept me addicted. Why did I continue despite knowing that things would only get worse if I “don’t do something about it”? I did discover one answer, which was shared by practically all of the inmates whom I had posed the question to: it was self-delusion; of comforting one’s self that “All will be fine, somehow”.

How attractive was the alternative; in giving up drugs? With the opiates of heroin and morphine, that means undergoing severe physical withdrawal; and the psychological/mental withdrawal that goes on for weeks. But I believe practically all addicts would gladly undergo these… if things were to magically revert to the time just before it all started. But that’s not how it works, of course.

And so I went on. In the years after 2000, there were times when I had actually “stopped”, in that I was no longer physically addicted. None of these were voluntary. They were either through the lack of money – which was often; or there was that dreaded  “putus” or disruption with the supply. And at the first opportunity, I would get back at it.

[*Detoxifying:Treat for alcohol or drug dependence; Remove poison from; These are the dictionary definitions. It’s `easy’ to get yourself or someone off the physical addiction, regardless of how long you had used, how much and the average purity of the substance – get him to detoxify. How? Deny him the substances for a certain period of time. Here’s when the `fun’ starts – the misery of physical pain AND mental torment. I’ve gone through a few that were of “hellish” class, and many of “severe”. And lots of “mild”. I can truthfully state this: The `mild’ of opiate withdrawal is worse than almost all of my  `normal’ fevers (non drugs-related, like what you all here suffer occasionally), and it’s for each and every second of the day. I hope this gives a better idea of what this withdrawal thing is.]

I later learned the main reason why – I was alone… alienated. There was not much point in continuing to be clean – that is one’s thinking when he is alone and seemingly without hope for the future. During the past couple of years, I’d sometimes do this “time-tunnel exercise” of trying to remember and feel what it was like during a period – early 2000 for example. The memories of those negative feelings and incidents would stream back. Various aspects of my life were so knotted up, so blurred and dark that I could not see how they could be better in the future (that’s now). With nothing to really strive for, and with the heavy stone carried by every person bearing the guilt of having failed those who depended on you, the natural response was to find relief.

Some found temporary relief in alcohol, some in gambling, or womanising; many with a combination of those, and still even more added music and dance and whatever else. With me, it was in moving deeper towards the cause of that predicament in the first place: armed with a Terumo syringe intended for diabetics to administer insulin, the `immediate solution’ which was to perpetuate the cycle was in shooting up even more morphine or heroin. Sometimes these were spiked with methamphetamine – the pil kuda. 

But how different it is now, despite having undergone a divorce process! For this, I am grateful. The people who are here now – despite never having met many yet, the spiritual aspect of all the communicating helps to lift this stone… Sherry Nor Jannah & Nazmi, Shakirah, Elviza, Zara (so often), Distractor, Sheila, Brigitte… my great friend in Seoul (who prefer that I keep silent about his existence, and I will respect that), Mekyam, Fauziah, and everyone who have honestly and sincerely wished me well. I shudder to think about the time prior to Gambang – it’s a wonder that I managed to hold on for that long despite the immense weight that was pulling me down.

And one of the main factors that had helped to counterbalance the thoughts about “ending it all” was the person whom I often remember as the innocent little boy – one of those whom I had wronged by my choices and actions. And he never knew it. Even during those days of heavy addiction, I had the desire to make up for all my wrongs. And ending it all would have meant that I won’t – ever; besides tarnishing him with another stigma… as if what he had then wasn’t enough. Despite all the hopelessness and self-loathing, I had to go on.

Some of the readers might wonder about my mentioning him, and “not protecting his privacy”. Well, one of them is that; from what I see, Iman, despite being the youngest, is the one who has accepted me for what I was and am, and the addiction period for what it was. I don’t know what it is inside him, but there’s something special about it. And he being my son who was the most unsuccessful when it comes to academics; examination results. It was something of which my ex-wife had often scolded him for – and a source of friction with me, for I would always side with him.

It wasn’t for the sake of it, no. Even from very early on, there were characteristics that others somehow didn’t see – or they didn’t say so. This was a boy who would never lie to escape punishment. In whatever situation, when asked whether he did something, it was always a “Yes”. And bullying by taking advantage of his age and size when with younger kids – that wasn’t him. His sense of fairness, fair play – they were there in him from very early on.

He couldn’t believe or accept that there were others who weren’t like him. He was so kind as to allow the younger kids to bully him; not knowing how to retaliate… because he felt it was wrong! One kid younger than him did take advantage of this when he was about five. When he came home crying and telling me about it, I had to set things right. And since this particular kid was too young to listen to reason, there was only one way – I taught Iman how to retaliate. That put an immediate end to the younger kid’s actions, of course.

His character – that was what I saw in him. Unfortunately, this wasn’t shared by my wife, who had placed “academic results” as the priority. That, incidentally, was what my own father had emphasised on too decades ago. Neither her nor my wife “were wrong”. However, based on my own experience, I felt I knew better. I’ve held on to this from early on and right until now: One’s character is the most important… not in getting 12A’s, not in doing a degree in law at Oxford. Of course, having and getting both would have been ideal. But I can say with all honesty now that I’m extremely happy with what he is – examination results be damned. Iman is a good person, and that’s all that mattered to me.

Despite his poor results from Standard One and onwards, I saw that it wasn’t `stupidity’. In his case, it was the lack of motivation or interest. I knew that he had enough intelligence based on how he had handled the PC – a Pentium MMX 166MHz with 32MB RAM and 3GB HDD bought at the end on 1998 when he was in Standard One. I had bought it (or, it was with my father’s money actually) with the aim of doing something then to create a job for myself and a source of income. It wasn’t very successful. But interestingly, when I was in Gambang and with a few months left, kept coming back to this idea again. And remarkably, exactly 10 years later, I was/am doing what I had planned and intended in 1998!

On Wed 10 Aug 2005, Iman – then in Form Two – was at this house in the afternoon. That was his daily routine  after school… I was sure to hear the stepping of dry leaves outside; of him coming over to here. Its “his time” playing games at the computer while I lie down and read a book. It sure broke my feeling of loneliness with him here.

But I didn’t see him the following day. The next time I was to see him was a good 16 months later…