Since the 80ś I have come off methadone 4 times, and at present I am dealing with this my 5th, and final round off this dreaded drug. I swore in 1999 I would never do it again. Now 13 years here I am once again. Itś got to be up there as one of the foolish decisions to return to the scene of the crime, so to speak. The short of it is, my life has been so unlike any ones elses, as is all of our lives, and we just cannot and should not compare our lives with anyone because when we do, we will only get hammered with self-condemnation, in all its forms. Self-loathing, I have never wanted to admit I feel that way about myself, but the truth? Yea, cannot deny it. I have wasted 34 years, or have I, and in whose eyes? Have I walked to the beat of my own drum? No! I have only seriously lied to myself. In the end, its ourselves we must live with. And we owe it to ourselves to accept the truth. We want love, to love, and be loved yea? Is that the crux of the biscuit? Hmm what now?