In drug recovery circles, the definition of insanity is repeating the same mistakes and expecting different results. It’s a lunacy that forces me to use against my will. I want to stop but I can’t. I am a monomaniac, seemingly possessed by an evil spirit whose only aim is to get and use as much heroin as possible.Every day is the same: At night, I vow to never use again. I snap the tips off syringes so they’re unusable. In the morning, I drive to my dealer’s house in my pajamas, stopping on my way to get more needles.The all-consuming need to use drugs has taken me places I never envisioned. Many lines have been transgressed. A man strangled me so violently I accepted I was about to die. I repeatedly had sex with a dealer in exchange for smack. I’ve had three old white cars in a row: The first blew up on my way to score because I never thought to put oil or water in it. The second I smashed into a retaining wall because I nodded off on a winding road. The third I rattle around in now..