Bloody needle in my veins

Waiting for my ride home sitting and pondering why, how and what to say about how I got into active addiction and the fight to get out of it.

I don’t want my story to only reflect the deep connection I have to spiritual things; which I do; but also to reflect the person, my struggles and love for the people I share life with.

Luke 12 has a lot of life stuff in it with many promises. The lesson that prompted today’s blog is about worry. The question this lesson asks in the words of Jesus is:”Who of you can add a day to your life by worrying?” 


I grew up in severe violence with an alcoholic dad who near murdered me intentionally a few times and nearly accidently more times than I can remember. My mom wanted to become a nun, so that should tell you the kind of woman she was…..flawless but crippled by a misconstrued idea of “Stand by your man”. She did; even when my dad cut her legs open with a bread knife and made us kids watch or cheated on her. 

Being a creative in an Afrikaans dominated Apartheid SA came with its own set of judgement and identity crushing trauma.

Sexual abuse.

Born psychic a sense of being different has  and still perfumes my life.

Hear me…I have worked through these issues enough that they do not influence what I believe about myself….that much anymore even when i fail.


At 17 when I moved out of home during prelims and set up home with my 1st BF. My 1st bf  I met at a gay club in Dbn called the Riviera. He turned out to also be a Pastor.


My 1st bf married my sexuality and my spirituality….or so I thought.I have always been spiritual! I was born with it for crying out loud.

From that second on I lived OUT LOUD AND PROUD. Relationship over and tragically heartbroken I mourned the death of love for as long as the relationship was alive….I WAS SO WOUNDED. 

So began the journey  to escape life . 

Again the sense of being punished by God and believing myself to be unlovable preoccupied my thoughts fully.

(The great gift was I fell into hairdressing…..I needed to earn money to live)

So being seriously melodramatic at the time I began saddling myself to boozing, then dope and 3 years later E, acid and eventually cocaine. Coke I still don’t know why I did for so long….I hated it!

Chems gave me the energy and mindlessness to dance for days and faster than I ever could. Dance coupled to an outrageous fashion sense was my way to express myself….oh soooooooo Madonna.Dancing also drew attention. The more people looked the more I entertained.

As with anything the more you do it the more you need to do OF IT  to get the same kick. So I did. An addict was born.

I moved up to Jhb from Dbn in 1998 after my druggie reputation began to close in on me. Dbn was tiny, too tiny back then.

In Jhb the rich, cool and IN crowd did coke by the kilograms. Everyone had the best stuff and knew the best dealer with the best price. Wanting to not be me I simply became more of a copycat. So I did Coke. I dealt it by the end of that drugs career to support my habit and to gain a sense of power in my shallow circle of “friends”. I WAS NEEDED….I WAS THE DEALER. Truthfully I never had the invincible high everyone else had. NOT ONCE!!!!!!

As the years progressed I lost jobs, briefly kissed prostitution for 6 months as a means of survival to earn a living. I was really crap at it though because I felt so guilty about charging for something that should be sacred…THANK GOD!!! But the R250 p/h did give me a value at the time.

Eventually through various therapies I put myself into short-term rehab called House of Mercy because I realised: IF YOU ARE NOT HAPPY WITH THE RESULTS OF YOUR LIFE CHANGE YOUR ACTIONS!!!! 

I still struggle being wise in choice execution.

My amphetamine love affair began and skyrocketed fiercely!

Clean and then trashed echoed the next few years. Eventually I saw the Carte Blanche episode on Noupoort Rehab in the desert. Even though the story was about guys who had died there I decided I have to go. I simply could not earn a living, pay the bills, and try learn to stay sober in a city where EVERYTHING is on tap if you want it. AND I MEAN EVERYTHING!!!! Sex Drugs and House music baby!!!!!!

After a failed suicide attempt and ending up in Helen Joseph Psych Ward; Pastor Ginny of Rivers Church came to visit me and suggested another rehab in Mozambique called Healing Wings.
A week later I was there.

It was hectic…imagine being a “northern suburbs wannabe” working in Sandton doll and ending up on a farm, in a country you don’t speak the language, wanting to actually be dead and the only Fag in a bungalow of 90 men…..Shower hour was a nightmare!

Truthfully it was the most exquisite experience. Not because of the men although maybe a few…lol. But my councillor’s Bruce, Alan and especially Giles were my 1st contact of plutonic male love where I didn’t need to give my body as the sacrifice.

I was arguably 1 of the more….how shall we say….intricate patients.

I bailed on rehab 1 1/2 years into it. I determined to prove God wrong. I set out to prove that I could have a successful relationship. 2 years later in dire straits AGAIN, 4 severely destructive relationship ( 1 with a Magistrate who was a Crystal Meth addict) I needed help. I eventually posted that I needed help after 2 very hectic nearly satanic experiences. Playing with Crystal Meth had became the featured drug of choice.

Again I was mercifully taken in by Healing Wings and nurtured for 7 months. I chose to leave again.

As time went by life got better and I started earning some real money as I stayed sober.


I STILL WANTED LOVE!!!!! GOD WAS JUST NOT ENOUGH….or at least that is what I told myself.Again I searched in the wrong places and a few relapses later life was not so grand anymore.

(I have had more serious God encounters and other encounters than most care to think of real spiritual stuff. WHY….I AM DYING TO FIND OUT….this time the right way!!!!!!)

I found what I think could be described as MY PERFECT RELATIONSHIP. It failed but I knew it would after I had tried for the 2nd time to discuss the IDEA of living together….the discussion was denied. But I held onto the hope of maybe…I will always love this person and suspect we may remain great friends…who knows?


I needed intimacy so I went and found it. Along with it came bloody Meth needles in my arm and chat groups and random strangers.

I have only ever put a flu vaccine in my arm and only because the pharmacist didn’t have a licence to do so and told me after I had bought the thing….IDIOT!


But the need to fit in, belong, be “loved” and be sexy whilst at it saw me allow trashed strangers to stick needles in my body JUST SO I would not be lonely….even if for a while & even if my body was the price sexually or otherwise.

R40 000 later ANOTHER God intervention I have surrended to the facts:

1) God is real REALLY REAL




For years I worried about being attractive, sexy, intelligent enough, GLAM enough, creative enough, IN, cool, hip and sexual enough and mostly worrying about finding love to affirm that I was indeed lovable.

Did I add a day to my life?



Thanks Tal for inspiring me today with this quote….I LOVE YOU MORE THAN YOU COULD EVER KNOW….

El your constant belief in my artistry especially coming from an artist par excellance as yourself is flabbergasting.



3 thoughts on “Bloody needle in my veins

  1. I love you dearly sweet Arion and commend this baring of your soul. I find though one thing lacking; it stands out so much. That God loves you has never, ever been in doubt. He always loves us no matter what. That is the quintessential truth. When will you Love yourself??? It is not for someone else to love you that is important, because that will be the case so naturally the moment you remember to love yourself first!!! Just love YOU!! You are perfect the way you are, as we all are. xoxox

    Liked by 1 person

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