The Heroin Diaries

by Nikki Sixx

  KAREN DUMONT: I used to work in PolyGram’s New York office and moved to the LA bureau in 1986. When I moved to Los Angeles I was told not to even talk to Mötley Crüe, because they were trouble. But they’d sometimes drop by the office, Nikki more than the rest of the band, and eventually we became friends.

  Nikki asked me to stay in his house during the Girls tour because he was going out with Vanity and he was afraid she wasn’t taking very good care of his place. He asked me if I would go over and stay there, to keep an eye on the place and on her. Vanity was very unreliable and a lot of people hated her, but actually I thought she was OK.

  SEPTEMBER 10TH, 1987 HOME

  Van Nuys, 3 p.m.

  What’s the point of having a fence around your mansion if people just wait outside and ring the intercom till you answer?

  How do people know I’m home?

  I can’t believe Jason kept ringing and ringing until I finally answered the phone. He said he saw me on Ventura on my bike yesterday and wanted to say hi, but I had changed my number. I told him I was in the shower and I would call him back…

  Ya, right.

  SEPTEMBER 11TH, 1987 HOME

  Van Nuys, 2 p.m.

  I can’t fucking believe it. You will never believe this one. I came home from the store today and walked into the house and Vanity jumped from outta nowhere. She scared the fuck out of me. Her eyes were popping outta her head. She was screaming, If you hate me so much, hit me! She was trying to scratch my eyes and face. I kept backing up until I was in a corner.

  As she said for the 100th time, Hit me, hit me, hit me if you hate me, I knocked her out cold.

  She hit the wood floor with a thump. I dragged her by her hair to the front door, opened it and pulled her onto the front steps. I looked down the driveway and there was a limo parked at the end. The driver got out and said, Is everything OK? I said, Is this trash yours? He said yes and I said, Then get it off my property. I pushed the button to open the gate and kicked her down the front steps…

  Fucking psycho bitch! I just got off the phone to the cops and told them she broke into my house and was trying to gouge out my eyes so I had to defend myself. They’re on their way over now. I’m gonna file a report and get a restraining order.

  FUCKING HELL!

  5:40 p.m.

  I had torn up Jason’s number but now the fucker has left it in my mailbox–I feel like they’re all out to get me.

  10 p.m.

  Sitting here alone listening to music. I’m still shaken from the Vanity shit.

  Guess I’ll take my bike out for a spin…I wonder what the guys are doing.

  TOMMY LEE: I used to go over to Nikki’s house quite a lot when he was dating Vanity. It wasn’t always pretty. I remember one time when I was there they had a huge fight, and he flushed a three-or four-karat diamond ring down the toilet.

  NIKKI: Wow, I forgot about that. I’m glad Tommy brought that up…I need to call the insurance company.

  EVANGELIST DENISE MATTHEWS: What killed my relationship with Nikki? I believe the fame and possessive search for fortune, love and the exaltation of a dead Vanity, full of narcotics, is what broke me. My Bible says the woman that lives for pleasure shall die in it. It seemed to me that no matter where I turned as Vanity, it was leading me to death. And though you rent your face with painting and make yourself beautiful, God said, “Yet I will make your lovers hate you.” He did just that…and it couldn’t have ended any other way.

  SEPTEMBER 12TH, 1987 HOME

  Van Nuys, 11:45 p.m.

  Just returned from dinner with Bob. We went to a snotty lil French restaurant on Ventura Boulevard. We talked cars most of the time and split a nice bottle of wine, and that’s all. I’m feeling like I can control this. Maybe I can just not overdo it. Maybe I’m not as bad as I think I am…I’ve been pretty sane lately.

  Today was mellow. I went to the mall and just walked around. I had a baseball hat and a sweater on…nobody noticed me. I was listening to Prince today…a lot…and Thompson Twins…how gay is that? Better put on some Hell Bent for Leather to redeem myself…

  I haven’t even taken sleeping pills to sleep. Gonna go light some candles and crawl in bed with a Roald Dahl book…

  BOB MICHAELS: Nikki and I used to go to a French restaurant over on Ventura Boulevard. The only reason we used to go was that it had vodkas at the bar that had been frozen for a month so we’d see how wasted we could get on martinis. The meals would always end with us pulling out of the driveway, which was a major traffic intersection, and doing multiple doughnuts in the road with the steering wheel jammed to the left and the accelerator right down. We couldn’t see where we were going and it was a miracle we didn’t crash. It never occurred to us that we would. Nikki had always got away with so much that he felt untouchable.

  SEPTEMBER 13TH, 1987 HOME

  Van Nuys, 6:30 p.m.

  Dear Diary, I’m such a loser. I’m a dreg and a liar. I feel like backwash. I feel shame…I got high last night. No, not just high–I lost my mind again. I ended up in the closet shooting coke…I’ve been doing so good. I’m so confused. It didn’t start off so bad. I thought I could control it…

  P.S. I just woke up and I’m too sick to even eat. I’m going back to bed. Maybe if I just hide under the covers and go to sleep, this will all have been a nightmare…

  Why do I take everything too far? I make myself sick…literally.

  SEPTEMBER 14TH, 1987 HOME

  Van Nuys, 2 p.m.

  I just got a call from the office. Karen said Sacha called for me–he’s in LA and wanted to know if I need a limo (a code word for junk?).

  Why not?

  P.S. I guess nobody knows what Sacha really does for money.

  7 p.m.

  Sacha came over–he actually does have his limos here. He moved his business here…he says NY is too crazy. I told him I am basically clean but have chipped, and shot coke, and now I feel bad. We talked about control. He said if I wanted him to help me control it, he would. I agree with him–if I didn’t do the coke, I would be really OK. It’s then, and only then, that I end up in the closet.

  Sacha is actually a nice guy. Jason is such a fucking egomaniac–how can a dealer have a big ego? He’s always holding out on the gear or his connection if I want to buy quantity. Where Sacha gave me Abdul his direct dealer’s number, ’cause he’s still got to go back to NY and bring some clothes and furniture back here. He doesn’t deal coke any more, he says people get too weird on it. Tell me about it…

  So I got some Mexican tar that I’m just gonna smoke until I go back out on the road. If I just do it once a day, it’s like having a beer in the afternoon.

  I called Jason and told him I was gonna report him to the police if he ever came here again. He freaked out. So now I have no real connection to coke (Thank God)…I feel pretty fucking safe right now.

  Gonna go chase the dragon, write some music and go out for a bike ride…end of a day in the life…

  * * *

  DON’T LAUGH (YOU MIGHT BE NEXT)

  I've been dreamin' In black and white so long You know I didn't always hit the shit But my livin' days are way past gone I've been thinkin' Of where I went all wrong I been livin' in this hole so long I feel like it's where I belong

  Don't laugh-you might be next Like you got nothin' You wouldn't like to forget

  I've been thinkin' On why I went so I just been chasin' this dragon All around the block And I ain't got no far car So now you're sayin' It's a weakness in my soul Yeah before you write me off so quick You better look around at the people That you know

  Don't laugh-you might be next

  * * *

  SEPTEMBER 15TH, 1987 HOME

  Van Nuys, 5 p.m.

  I was checking the mail a few hours ago and Vanity pulled up in a limo. The first words out of her mouth were how sorry she was. She looked better than I’ve seen her in a while. I told her to come in. It was nice. I gave her my new number and told her we could be friends. It’s bet
ter to be this way than that way.

  10 p.m.

  Vanity just called and said she wanted to come over and watch a movie. What the hell–what can it hurt?

  SEPTEMBER 16TH, 1987 HOME

  7 a.m.

  Vanity just left to go score some blow. She came over last night and we were drinking and she asked if I wanted a bump. God, it sounded so good–so we did lines all night until we ran out. I told her I have some money in the safe and she took my Jeep and went to get some more. I know I said I wouldn’t but I’m not shooting or basing it. I’ll just go till noon or so and sleep it off…gate just rang, be back…

  Cool, the liquor store just dropped off some Cristal–I need a drink bad. I’m pretty wired. I ran out of everything. Nothing is worse than running out. I’m gonna call Abdul for a little tar drop-off.

  Noon

  Abdul dropped off a quarter-gram but Vanity is nowhere to be found. Fucking bitch! I think she stole my money. I’m going to bed…fuck, I’m pissed…and to think I was having fun.

  11 p.m.

  Vanity just called, she’s coming over. She said she had to wait for the stuff and didn’t have my new number with her. She said she was sorry…am I a sucker or what?

  I’m glad I have a place to write this down…otherwise it would just be me and the voices in my head…

  SEPTEMBER 17TH, 1987 HOME

  Van Nuys, 5 p.m.

  Just off the phone with Karen. Told her I was leaving tomorrow and asked her to watch the house. I’m leaving the key under the gargoyle at the front door. I haven’t been to sleep yet but I think I held it together pretty good. I know if I told her the truth she wouldn’t watch the house, and I can’t trust Vanity not to come here and go whacko. I hid all my drug paraphernalia in the safe behind my mirror in the bedroom. Nobody knows it’s there. I had the bricks torn out and the safe installed last year.

  I got new sheets for the guest bed–I went in there and it smelled like cat pee…thanks Slash! Not a very nice way for Karen to start her stay. I’m just hoping it’s not the mattress. Maybe I can spray something on it.

  I can’t believe I did freebase with Vanity all night. It ended as always…I threw her out at about 8 a.m. She was getting crazy and telling me about God. Also, I forgot I bought Whisky and sent him to obedience camp! He’s getting dropped off here in two days…I hope Karen doesn’t mind. I’m going back to bed until tomorrow morning.

  KAREN DUMONT: When I moved into Nikki’s house my only condition was that he didn’t do drugs while I was there because I couldn’t handle that. I didn’t know what I would do if he was going off his head. Doc and Doug were pleased when I moved in because they thought Nikki liked me and they hoped I might be a good influence on him. I remember the day that I moved in the spare bed smelled of piss and Nikki said Slash had pissed on it. He didn’t want to buy another bed so I used to sleep on a couch in the den.

  EVANGELIST DENISE MATTHEWS: Nikki and I could not have made our relationship right without Jesus and so it was not meant to be. Otherwise it surely would have been. We both needed all of those experiences just to get to the next step. Most of us are used as stepping-stones for each of us to climb to the next level. Some are used to make us fall down and go “Boom!” Just as long as we get up and keep climbing…

  SEPTEMBER 18TH, 1987 DAY OFF

  Leaving home in limo, 8 a.m.

  I feel so drained right now. I’m in the limo…I don’t wanna ever come back to this life. I’m so excited to leave for tour. I didn’t have time to pack this morning so I’m taking the same dirty clothes I came home with back on tour.

  Why is it that every time I get a foothold, I slip and fall back into the muck? I’m surrounded by derelicts…they search me out, they hunt me, they find me and try and kill me. I hate drugs but I can’t stop. When we’re done with this tour in Dec I wanna go into rehab in Jan (I need to tell Bob Timmons to book me a room for Jan 2). I’m selling the house and moving away…today I actually prayed to God.

  I can’t believe I did freebase again.

  I can’t believe I did Vanity again.

  I can’t believe that I thought I could just chip junk.

  I hope I’m not gonna be dope sick.

  I can’t believe I’m considering AA/NA/CA.

  I can’t believe I’m considering rehab.

  I can’t believe I prayed to God.

  NIKKI: The armor was starting to crack. I can see from my diary entries that I was looking for a way out of the quicksand. Maybe I was finally hoping someone was going to throw me a rope. For the first time I think I was actually willing to grab it. Seeing these entries now, I was screaming for help. I just don’t think I was screaming loud enough.

  * * *

  LA SUCKS

  Drive down the freeway with your head in a bag You should be told you’re not alone being had Sniff some paint, sniff some glue Look at the effect this city’s having on you I understand your teenage angst I understand trying to kill the past Maybe we should all move far away Maybe it can all be blamed on LA Don’t tell me about me and I won’t tell you about you If you need a therapist, try suicide or go to the zoo This city’s built on drag queens, clichés and sins Rumors and back-stabbings at the Café Le Trend If you live in this town you’re a sucker and a clown Bullshitters by the ounce, liars by the pound There’s always a fool with a vial full of dreams There’s always a bum falling apart at the seams Gold lamé high heels a Rodeo Drive bitch Some desperate old groupie trying to get herself hitched Worn and torn it’s ripping apart Another 6.5 will be too much for my heart Riots and floods and shootings oh my…I wonder if I’ll ever get out of this city alive? Ya–LA sucks

  * * *

  SEPTEMBER 19TH, 1987 ROBERTS MUNICIPAL STADIUM, EVANSVILLE, IN

  Backstage, about midnight

  First show back…man, it’s great to be back on tour. It was so good to see the guys. No matter how bad it gets between us, at least I know they really care about me. They don’t want anything from me. They’re not trying to kill me (that I know of–ha ha)…

  Tonight’s show felt like a three-hour set. I was dripping toxic waste after one song…all the blow and booze and gear was just pouring out of me. I didn’t even have one drink onstage…

  God, I hate LA…or I guess I hate the people I attract in LA…

  SEPTEMBER 20TH, 1987 MARKET SQUARE ARENA INDIANAPOLIS, IN

  Hotel, noon

  I can’t believe we’re back in Indy just two months after we played here. Doc’s greed is showing. There are so many Mötley fans out there but he just goes where the easy money is and doesn’t help us build new fans in new cities (or countries). Between you and me, I think we need a new manager. This guy doesn’t like us–he just likes our money. He’s never here or in the office. He’s acting more like a record company every day…he does lil of the work and takes all of the credit. He just throws it all against the wall and if it sticks, cool–if not, he blames us.

  ALLEN KOVAC: I have managed Mötley Crüe since the late ’90s, and while I don’t want to criticize their previous management, I do have the impression that they were just following the money. The trick is to maximize what you do in a city, instead of going to it multiple times. The advisers Mötley had back then didn’t explain the amount of work they had to bear, mentally and physically. They didn’t consider that when artists get tired they are likely to take sleeping pills, or self-medicate with alcohol. Mötley Crüe was abused by the system–their record label and representatives didn’t explain how things worked–they just wanted them to stay on the treadmill.

  SEPTEMBER 22ND, 1987 DAY OFF

  Hotel, Tulsa, Oklahoma, 2:20 p.m.

  Rich Fisher decided to rent a helicopter and everybody is flying over to a restaurant to have a big dinner. I said I would go, but I know I won’t. I can’t face being social. I’d rather stay here. I feel so uncomfortable in my skin. It’s been creeping up on me for a few years–the bigger we get, the sadder I feel…

  P.S. Just called Bob Timmons…go
t his answer machine.

  BOB TIMMONS: Nikki would call me sporadically during the Girls tour asking for help but would never take it. He used to cover up his depression with anger–he felt that since now he was successful people wanted to be around him but they liked the fame, not him, so he self-medicated his pain through his drug use. Mötley Crüe lived in an unreal world–I remember on an earlier tour being backstage with them and David Lee Roth coming in and throwing an ounce of cocaine on the table and saying, “Hey, guys, there you go!” That was their attitude: We are rock stars, so this is what we do.

  SEPTEMBER 23RD, 1987 TULSA CONTENTION CENTER, TULSA, OK

  Hotel, Tulsa, 5 p.m.

  I feel fragile and tormented and uncomfortable in my skin. What happened when the heroin left is that the comfort left. I’m drinking more than I have in past tours to try to replace the comfort that smack gave me. I hate to admit it, but maybe I’m not even who I think I am. I’m feeling fragile and weak, and I’m supposed to be on top of the world. Now I’ve started chipping again.

  Bob Timmons called back but I wouldn’t talk to him.

  SEPTEMBER 24TH, 1987 LLOYD NOBLE CENTER, NORMAN, OK

  On the jet, 1 a.m.

  Tonight’s show was hard work. We’re sitting ready to take off for Dallas. Fred is pissed at me (even though he won’t admit it) ’cause before the show was started tonight, I hid in a road case by the side of the stage as the intro to The Stripper was playing. Fred was running around freaking out ’cause he couldn’t find me. He was turning over cases and screaming to cut the intro tape…ha ha ha…I jumped out just in time to start the show. When I looked over at the side of the stage he was as white as a ghost. I smirked and he just shook his head…