Eva Rausing 1964-2012

EVA AND HANS RAUSING, the billion-dollar drug addicts. Their love affair began in rehab and ended last week at their exclusive London address, where Mrs Rausing seemingly died of an overdose. Police found Eva's body on Tuesday while raiding her Belgravia mansion for drugs after her husband, heir to an $8 billion food-packaging fortune, was pulled over for erratic driving in South London and found to be in possession of Class A substances. It seems Hans had continued bingeing on heroin and crack for over a week with Eva's corpse still lying in an upstairs bedroom.

Of course murder is suspected, but it wouldn't surprise me if the poor man, who is now in hospital, was too frightened or confused or just too out of it to seek help.

The pictures tell the tale of their sad decline...

EVA RAUSING

7 March 1964 - ? July 2012

REST IN PEACE

xx

*******

For more details and links, see yesterday's post.

I Must Give Up

I HAVE to give up drinking ~ yet again. Most day in the past week it had gone up to 3 half-litre cans of white cyder 7.5%ABV. That's 11.25 alcoholic units (112.5mls neat alcohol) per day. The days I didn't drink 3 cans, I drank 2. Today I've had one, and I'm leaving it at that. Three cans of that cyder amount to approximately 1050 Calories. That's way too much.

Last night  dreamt I was in my friend Rebsie's dank and derelict house. Possessions were strewn everywhere, or packed into boxes. Rebs is in rehab still, coming off a 30 year plus drink and heroin addiction. In the dream our other friend, Mother Hubbs was in the house, helping to pack up. In real life Hubbs is clean and thin enough to be unrecognizable.

Whereas I was once the one leading the way ~ the only person I knew even to have been to an NA meeting outside prison or rehab; and the only person who thought he wanted to stop, even if my outlook was delusional. Now only one of my old group of friends uses heroin ~ and that's only once a month. I know one other person who takes heroin every week and somehow seems not to be physically dependent. That person is the exception to numerous rules.

But anyway, they've all left me behind.

And here I am, trailing in the dust.





 OT QUARTET: HOLD THAT SUCKER DOWN 
BUILDS LIKE A SKYSCRAPER MIX

Rehab

I HAVE FINALLY DECIDED TO ENTER A PROFESSIONAL DETOX UNIT to come off the remainder of my opiate habit. This should happen in 4-6 weeks. My prescribed methadone is at a flat 30mg daily (no longer tipping down on a 2-weekly basis) but I'm using a good 10-15mg (bought on the street) on top of that. Reason being I used heroin every day for over a month, giving myself a double habit that I now have to wean myself off. I didn't DARE tell the clinic about this. I trust them little enough as it is. All I'm doing is pouring out that extra juice in the early hours, and making sure I pour out less and less each day. Until eventually I'll be back to that flat 30mg. I cannot WAIT to get off this noxious gloopy crap as quickly as possible. Originally I wanted a "community" detox because I felt the longterm gradual reduction would suit me better. But what it's actually turning into is a type of ultra slow low-grade torture. I'd rather do 10 days of hell in the unit and come out squeaky clean than weeks and weeks of semi-suffering. My biggest problem previous attempts at rehab was that I didn't sleep AT ALL. Everyone claims not to sleep in rehab. Well I can tell you, they did. Because I stayed up all night watching them doing it. I was lonely and suicidal and couldn't even talk to the night staff, because the night staff had been working all day and needed the sofa to sleep on.

The difference this time is in the wonders of Seroquel (quetiapine) which I'm currently not taking because it didn't make me any less moody, didn't stop me hearing "voices" (which were mostly nonsense syllables and echoes; I only hear crystal clear voices when I'm ravingly psychotic) and basically made me ridiculously tired all the time, despite the fact that I took the entire dose at night. Well the advantage of Seroquel is it does make you sleep exceptionally long and deeply. So I've decided to stay off it until the day I go in (when you have to declare any outside medications you're on). Then I'll go back on the full dose, which should knock me sideways. Meaning I might, if I'm lucky, sleep like a baby throughout this entire nightmare they call "detoxification". My worker told me the entire thing should be over in ten days. Ten days to freedom! Imagine that!! I can't wait. I now have as full a plot as one can ever hope for in advance for the KIDDIES' BOOK I'm going to write. Because it's an animal story it really has to be for the 6-10 year old range, though it will be a proper novel, not a picture book. Novels in this category rarely exceed 15-20,000 words so I should be able to produce a workable first draft within a month. If only I can sit down, focus and WRITE THE DAMN THING. I know from past experience that self-discipline and routine are the key to producing any manuscript. Not inspiration. Inspiration is what you need to get yourself going. Discipline keeps you going. Currently I have the inspiration. In fact, I'm on a high. I'm planning my story to be one of a set of at least three, because children like serial characters. Of course if I could I'd write 20 or more books in the same series, but I'm planning on producing three in a row. That's only about 45,000 words, about HALF the length of an entire adult novel! I can't tell you what my tale is about. Except that it's going to be brilliant. (But of course.) I've been reading Michael Jackson: The Magic, The Madness, The Whole Story by J Randy Taraborrelli. I love Michael Jackson. For years he has inspired me to greatness. Perhaps some of that magic will rub off on my book? I hope so.

Oh and my friend Paddy Paddster gave me his Webster's. For over five years I have been dictionary-less after my old landlord threw half my possessions on the street and my beloved Chambers got stolen. My vocabulary has suffered no end. I used rarely if ever to encounter words I didn't understand. Now I'm coming across them all the time. I know Websters is an American dictionary, but who cares? I'm pretty sure I know the differences in spelling, which for a children's author are crucial. The matrons of Middle England would never tolerate their offspring being entertained by stories printed in transatlantic prose! Oh and last but not least I stubbed my toe so badly on a metal security door that my left foot is bathed in blood, the sock stuck fast and I could barely walk. The toe isn't broken, neither is the nail, though it does feel that way. So I'm in the wars yet again. Apart from that I'm in a really good mood today. Finally and at long long last an end to my drugs nightmare might be in sight! Wow!! PS WHY DOES THE NEW BLOGGER REFUSE TO RECOGNIZE NEW PARAGRAPHS? What do I do to paragraph out my work like an ordinary person? If anyone knows the answer PLEASE LET ME KNOW..!!