Needle in the Haystack…

…Or in a government provided box, in a public bathroom?

One of the more disturbing things I’ve seen since I came back here was on the ferry ride over from Vancouver to Victoria. Don’t get me wrong; British Columbia is probably the most beautiful place on the planet and despite my depressive gripping, I do love home.

I love being able to talk to strangers or having them talk to me, without them wondering why the hell I’m bothering, as if they care. I like being able to interact with people and not have them judge me based on how I look or where I’m from (despite the playful jabs every now and then about my accent). I love a lot about being here and my mom may soon have her wish. I’ve been talking to the boy and we’re considering moving here for a couple of years in a year or so. Even though, that doesn’t change all the horrible things I’ve already witnessed since I’ve been back. I would never want to raise a child here and I’ll stick to that. Now back to that needle…

In British Columbia smoking is illegal almost everywhere. You cannot smoke in a shopping center, you cannot smoke in a restaurant, you cannot smoke in a pub or bar even. I heard a while back they were trying to push for it to be illegal for drivers to smoke while in their own cars. In stark contrast, I went to the public bathroom on the ferry and found a nice little deposit box, for needles. I’ve since been informed this is so that junkies have a place to dispose of their needles without endangering the public. Isn’t that similar to Dubai’s radars, as in it doesn’t prevent the crime from taking place but accommodates it? If you’re not caught, you’re not breaking the law? We’ll even make it easy for you to dispose of your paraphernalia; spot the radars.

I understand the heroin is a highly addictive substance and I also understand the dangers of used needles being trashed in unacceptable places, but in some of the more recent studies I’ve read that smoking is just as addictive if not more and second hand smoke scare means I as the smoker am punished (no longer is my addiction accommodated with smoking rooms or sections). I tend to believe the fact that these boxes have appeared sometime in the eight years I spent away would mean the problem is increasing in this society. Wouldn’t the tax money and effort being spent on helping these junkies dispose of or exchange (I’ve been told there’s actually some program where junkies can go and exchange old used needles for new ones without being persecuted) be better spent on prevention techniques or persecution of dealers?

I wish I’d thought to take a photo of this junkie needle box. But after 24 hours flying I was tired and didn’t even consider it. Maybe, on my way back I’ll catch one.

((And yes, HL&H... I am feeling better! But then, it's nine am and I've just taken my pill. I remembered to eat too. It hasn't had the chance to kick in and kick my ass yet. Besides, today is my brother's birthday and I've already talked to the two people that mean most to me in the world, this morning. My baby's gone to school and had a blast on his first day. And the boy is equally wonderful!))