by Nikki Sixx
BOB TIMMONS: Part of the twelve-step program for curing addiction is accepting there is a greater power in the world than you. It doesn’t have to be God, it can be anything–but Nikki was always too stubborn to take that step. He was simply too self-centered, and wouldn’t let me in to help him. That was Nikki Sixx–he always had his armor on.
MAY 2ND, 1987
Van Nuys, 4:40 p.m.
OK, I’ve got to wean off the heroin and coke before we go on tour. I can’t go out on the road like this…it will kill me.
The weird thing is, the coke is the worst part of this, but you don’t go thru withdrawals if you can’t get blow. Smack is a different story. I’m so strung out right now…I couldn’t go a day without it. I would have to take so much on the road with me or have it FedExed in every week, which is crazy…what if I missed my delivery? How would I play?
How do some guys tour and stay strung out? I do not wanna know. I’m gonna quit, I have to. This is gonna be bad, but it will be over soon. I hope I don’t have to call Bob again. I have a plan and I’ve just called Jason…
7 p.m.
Jason has just left and it went pretty well. I explained to him that I have got to get clean before Mötley goes on tour next month. I reckon I’m doing $500 or more of smack a day now…the coke I’m just gonna stop. My plan is to do less and less each day, then when I’m low enough go on to methadone and get off completely. So he got his scale out and we made 30 bindles, each one smaller than the one before, each with a fresh needle next to it. It took us an hour…it should take me about a week to wean down. When we were done, it looked like a regiment of drugs, a regime…it looked like an army.
The brave new world starts tomorrow…when Jason left, he shook my hand and said he hoped I’d be able to do it. Ya, right…
DOC McGHEE: Nikki was always dreaming up fantasy ways to kick drugs that didn’t involve going into rehab. One time in 1986, he decided that he and Nicole, his old girlfriend, would detox for five days at my house. Those five days felt like a fucking year. Nikki was just so sick–I had to keep carrying him from the house to the hot tub because he was cramping up so bad.
And Nicole was something else. She kept thinking Nikki wanted to kill her. One night Nikki came into my bedroom at three A.M. and said, “Dude, you’ve got to go and see Nicole.” I went into their room and she was putting her makeup on. She said, “I’ve got to go to a photo shoot,” and I said, “Look in the mirror–who wants to take a photo of that at three in the morning?”
She looked at me and started sobbing, and asked me for a sewing needle, just a sewing needle, because if she stuck it into her arm, it made her feel better. That was on the second day of the five–and, believe me, it didn’t get any prettier from there.
BOB TIMMONS: I remember the attempted detox that Doc is describing. As we both predicted, it was a dismal failure. Nikki seemed to have this strange idea that he could just go to Doc’s, sit in the hot tub and eat candy, and be off heroin in two days. I’m a former junkie and believe me–it’s a lot harder than that.
MAY 5TH, 1987
Van Nuys, 8 p.m.
I feel pretty good considering how much I’ve cut down. I’ve been buffering my itch with Valium and vodka-and-cranberries…
MAY 7TH, 1987
Van Nuys, 9:30 p.m.
Tom is coming from Idaho to stay for a few days. I feel frightened about it. I love Tom and I always love to see him, but I can’t let him see me as strung out as I am now…but it’s cool that he’s stayed close and never given me a hard time about missing Nona’s funeral. I respect him for that. I’m going to be strong for him.
I used up more of my stash than I thought. I’m running low.
NIKKI: I spent months and even years as a kid living with my grandfather Tom and my grandmother Nona in Idaho and Texas, when I felt my mother couldn’t be bothered with me. Tom is hard but fair, a good man, and I was incredibly close to Nona, who loved me and was better than a mother to me. She always forgave me, and I could be a pretty fucking wild kid.
Nona had been ill in 1986 and I’d ignored it. When she died and Tom called to tell me, the bottom fell out of my world, but I was so fucked up that I couldn’t even cry. I was going to fly to the funeral but I was too strung out and wasted that day to get on the plane. I would have had to confront my past, confront my mother and spend time with the family that I had run away from. There were too many issues. They had abandoned me and I had abandoned them.
People were calling me saying I had to come, but I never went. I loved my grandmother and she was very important to me, but I couldn’t face it. Instead I got wrecked in front of the tube, feeling ashamed and guilty, and I wrote “Nona,” a song for her, which we included on Girls Girls Girls. In my fucked-up state, that was the best that I could do.
DEANA RICHARDS: It breaks my heart when Nikki thinks I couldn’t be bothered with him as a child. I loved him more than life itself, and I still do. I’ve wanted to tell him the truth all my life, but I have just never had the chance–and the truth is that my own family, my mom and my sisters, plotted against me to take Nikki away from me.
I didn’t know at the time what was going on. I was so naïve. You can’t fathom that your family would do such a thing, but they took Nikki away. They did it slowly. It started off with them telling me to send Nikki to stay with them for the weekend. Then they would ask me to send him for a couple of weeks, or for a month, because they would say he needed to be around a man and have a man’s influence.
I missed Nikki so much but I thought they were trying to help me, and he would soon be back with me, even when he ended up spending whole summers with them in Idaho. But they were telling him I was wild, and then they started telling me that they weren’t sending him back to me because he didn’t want to come.
I didn’t realize they were poisoning him against me until one day when he was around ten. I was just sick of him being away, and I called him to say, “Nikki, it’s time for you to come home.” And Nikki told me, “No. Once you get some roots and a dependable life and can take care of a child, then I will come home.” This out of a child’s mouth–well, it wasn’t too hard for me to figure out who put those words into the child’s mouth.
Then when my mother died, Tom and my sisters didn’t even tell me when she was being cremated. Tom only told me afterwards, when my sisters had already been to the house and been through her things and taken everything they wanted.
TOM REESE: Bullshit! Nona and I never said anything against Deana around young Nikki. We were very careful what we said about her. If she had pulled some damn thing on us, we’d make sure we got well away from Nikki before we talked about her.
Whenever Deana would call for us to send Nikki, we would leave it up to him. We’d never try to run that boy’s life–he stood on his own two feet. If Nikki wanted to go see his mother, we’d pay his way for him and pay it back again. If he didn’t want to go, he didn’t go–but he always did go, every time until he got to be about thirteen.
Deana would throw him out every time. She threw him out of LA and every damn place she went to. We’d get a call from Nikki saying, “Grandma, can I come home?” and we’d get money to him to get a plane home. One time, Deana just left him with some woman in Sparks, Nevada, and went off with a guy. The woman phoned us, saying, “What am I supposed to do with this boy?” and I had to drive over and fetch him.
Deana has a screw loose and it’s drug-induced. You name it–LSD, marijuana, she used to take it. She was taking drugs before Ceci was born, before Lisa was born–even before Nikki was born. She was flying half of the time.
Nikki was very loyal to his mother for years and years, more than she deserved–when he asked us for anything, we used to give it to him. If he asked Deana for anything, she told him to go to hell. Nikki did pretty good with her until the time he went to live with her in Seattle when he was about thirteen, and she threw him out of there too. After that, he would absolutely have nothing to do with her. I guess he ju
st decided that she didn’t care.
NIKKI: Which side of the blade is sharper? The lie or the truth? It all seems irrelevant when your jugular is sliced open and you’re lying in a pool of blood for the whole world to see.
MAY 8TH, 1987
Van Nuys, 10 p.m.
Tom is here now and I think it might be a good thing for me. I can’t get wasted in front of him, so I just do my little maintenance shots in the bathroom.
Tommy came over tonight. We did a couple of shots of Jack with Tom and made small talk. Tommy can tell I’m sick. Tom asked me if I wanted to go to the doctor, I said it’s just a really bad flu…if I went to the doctor and they saw my veins they would call the police in a New York second!
I’m gonna go to the clinic in Burbank tomorrow and register for a 30-day program but I’m only gonna do it for three or four days then just cold turkey out from there…
MAY 10TH, 1987
Van Nuys, 11:40 p.m.
DAY ONE COKE AND DOPE FREE
Went to the clinic today and got my first dose. I’m outta dope. I threw all my rigs away, even my Dom Perignon box. I gotta tell you I’m fucking sick. I got an illegal scrip for Valium and percs from this quack we all use. They always help ease the pain.
I’m shitting and puking so much but I’m trying to keep it together for my grandfather…Thank God for him…
NIKKI: I remember Tom coming out to the Heroin House. When you’re in the middle of a crisis it’s not easy to notice other people’s pain. Looking back, my grandfather had to be dealing with a lot of pain. Losing Nona was the hardest thing he ever had to go through, and on top of that the boy he raised was in a tailspin and heading towards an early death. He probably saved my life and I’ll always owe him for that. I will forever regret not being there for him in return.
TOM REESE: When Nona died, Nikki was devastated, but he was also pretty fucked up. I went to stay with him once or twice, and the way of life he had was not to my liking. And he was so skinny! A good gust of wind would have blown him through a knothole.
Nikki didn’t inject in front of me, but it was obvious he was doing it. He would sit around with his buddies talking, and their drug talk might have made sense to them, but to me it sounded like gibberish. I used to see people in the same state in my years in the military. It never held any appeal for me.
While I was staying at Nikki’s, I’d often answer the door for him. Sometimes it was girls; I’d let them in except for the real young ’uns, who I’d send packing. I never let the drug peddlers in. One guy was kind of persistent, until I waved my shotgun in his face, and then he never came back.
I was worried for Nikki and I told him what I thought, but it just went in one ear and out the other. Stopping Nikki was like trying to stop a tornado. I couldn’t do anything except look out for him…and hope.
* * *
DANCING ON GLASS
Can’t find my doctor Bones can’t take this ache If you dance with the devil Your day will come to pay My fuel injected dreams Are bursting at the seams Am I in Persia Or lost in Spain
I’ve been to hell, hope I never make it back To dancing on glass.
* * *
MAY 11TH, 1987
Van Nuys, midnight
DAY TWO COKE AND DOPE FREE
I can’t believe it’s been two days without any junk! Went to get dosed today, saw a few guys I know. Fucking smack…just ruins people’s lives. At first it seems so sweet, then one day you wake up to a monster.
See you tomorrow…too sick to write. I have to go lay down…I haven’t slept much…
MAY 12TH, 1987
Van Nuys, 11:30 p.m.
DAY THREE COKE AND DOPE FREE
I haven’t had anything for three days now. This withdrawal is the most painful, intense one I’ve been in, like shock therapy. My guts are ripping, I’m puking and shitting, I’d do anything for a fix, but I won’t give in. This is the worst day so far. It always is…day three and four is when most guys give in. I can’t sleep for the pain.
I’ve heard stories about hookers who will blow a fucking donkey for a fix rather than go thru this. That’s how much this fucking hurts.
Today was my last dose…maybe one more day, but I don’t wanna get strung out on methadone. If you’re hooked on that, it’s almost impossible to get off.
I’m so sick. Thank God I’m getting dosed or I would definitely die from this one. I’m so sick I’m even sick of writing that I’m sick in this diary.
* * *
UNUSED LYRIC
I’ve never been to Eden But it’s nice I hear tell When I die I’ll go to heaven ’Cause I’ve done my time in hell
* * *
MAY 13TH, 1987
Van Nuys, 10:20 a.m.
DAY FOUR COKE AND DOPE FREE
Last methadone visit this morning. I haven’t eaten anything but candy. I’m too sick to go into the store and face people. Pete brought me a bag of candy and ice cream…every time I’ve kicked I go thru this sugar thing…what’s next? I’m gonna fucking get fat? My whole body feels like it’s cracking into pieces–fragile doesn’t even come close to describing how I feel.
MAY 14TH, 1987
Van Nuys, 4:35 a.m.
DAY FIVE COKE AND DOPE FREE
Had to go to the album listening party. I’m still sick as a dog but a handful of painkillers and a lot of whisky got me thru. Vanity showed up, I was talking to this black stripper and Vanity got all weird and abrasive. I’m so dope sick I feel brittle. It wouldn’t take much for me to shatter in a million pieces.
P.S. Speaking of dogs, I forgot I put money down on a German short-haired pointer. I couldn’t get him at the time, because he wasn’t old enough, but he’s getting delivered tomorrow…I’m gonna call him Whisky.
NIKKI: The Girls Girls Girls listening party was at the Body Shop, a strip club on Sunset. The band posed for photos with five strippers whose panties spelled out MÖ-TL-EY CR-ÜE. Vanity lost her mind when she came in because the stripper standing next to me was a black girl. The other thing I remember about the party is that asshole Yngwie Malmsteen showed up. He’d been dogging the band in the press yet dared to show up to our album listening party, so we had security throw him out on his ass on the curb. But I was so sick from junk it was all I could do to hold it together.
MAY 15TH, 1987
Van Nuys, 5 p.m.
DAY SIX COKE AND DOPE FREE
MTV has said no to the Girls Girls Girls video because of the topless strippers in it. We sent them one that was so out there so they would be happy with the one we really wanted them to play. If we sent them the one they approved first, they would of made us tame that one down…suckers.
Tom left today but I think I might still be OK getting cleaned up for the tour. It helps when I have things to focus on like my new dog Whisky…he just came today. Tom loves him.
It’s when I’m left to my own devices that I go fucking insane. I’ve always been too good at making my own entertainment. I can safely say I’ll never use heroin again…it’s just a nightmare. I feel so much better but my sheets on the bed stink from the gallons of toxic sweat that have poured outta my body. I have a pile of clothes in the closet with shit all over them from the first few days. I’ve been able to get a few hours of sleep at a time now and I can hold down something other than sweets. I feel hopeful.
* * *
RANDOM THOUGHT
Cleaning up is dirty work.
* * *
DOC McGHEE: Nikki used to sometimes have these dogs that were kinda messy and sloppy. I used to call them the heroin puppies. Can I tell you something that’s not too nice? I used to think of Vanity as a heroin puppy as well.
MAY 16TH, 1987
Van Nuys, 8 p.m.
DAY SEVEN COKE AND DOPE FREE
So another Mötley Crüe album is set to come out and we kindly donate another fucking chunk of profit to Neglektra Records. Why should they own our music?
This industry is the most fucked-up business ever. Musicians sp
end their childhoods learning to play instruments in their bedrooms, then they spend their lives in a recording studio creating music…then some fucker in a suit comes along and says if I can distribute what they’ve done to enough people, I’m going to sell PRODUCT to create CASHFLOW for my CORPORATION…at which point I ask myself, Where did we lose the music?
We write the music. It’s our songs, our vision, our message, our angst, so how can some record company OWN Mötley Crüe or Aerosmith or Led Zeppelin’s music? I mean, what the fuck? This system is slavery. It’s our music, our business…we should own it…
I can’t believe I’m clean. I feel lucid, alert and alive. I hurt like hell and my nerves are on edge but I’m clean–just in time for the machine to fire up…
MAY 17TH, 1987
Van Nuys, midnight
DAY EIGHT COKE AND DOPE FREE
Slash came over and we just hung out, played with Whisky and played guitars. Then we got out of here and went to lunch…Slash even told me that he thinks I’m looking better. I told him I just got outta a real bad kick and I was done with the worst of it. He said he knows how hard it is.
Vanity kept calling but I let the answering machine take the strain. I’m not ready for her right now. I’m making progress but I’m still fragile–more emotionally than physically now.
