Brief Background
I'm currently 27 at the time of writing this. I've used and abused various substances in the subsequent five or so years, but it all started with opiates... And hell, it started out innocently enough. I worked for my family business since I was 19, and my stepmother was the office manager. I had a severe cold one time: Sore throat, really bad cough, fever, the works. It was pretty obvious that I felt too shitty to work, but being the anal micromanager that she is, I had to get a doctor's note to prove it... This particular doctor, being the kind soul that he is, gave me a little something he told me would relieve my pain: Hydromet (hydrocodone+homatropine syrup). At the time, I had little clue just exactly what he had given me. So, I went home and administered the recommended dose with an oral syringe... "Nah, strike that, let's make it a double, cause I
really feel like crap... Hey, this stuff actually tastes pretty good!" ... Thirty minutes later: Not only did I
not feel sick anymore ... I felt
great! Absolutely fantastic; hell, I could have run a damn marathon if I wanted! So, I did some research. Hydrocodone... An
opiate? He gave me that for a cold? Huh! How 'bout that... Sweet. -- That bottle
should have lasted me at least a week. A few days later, however, it was gone ... and
damn, did I want some more...
Substance(s)
The same doctor that originally gave me the Hydromet syrup? After hurting my back at work and getting in a couple car wrecks, I managed to con him out of bottles and bottles of Lortabs longer than I thought possible without incurring suspicion of drug-seeking... If he was in a good mood and I put on a good enough show, he'd give me the Norco brand, which meant less APAP, which to me meant I could take more without having to worry as much about damaging my liver... Eventually, after so long of doing this, I started to notice that waking up in the morning was starting to feel ... well, I'm sure a lot of you know the feeling. Less than pleasant, to say the least, and I knew I was hooked... More research led to two other easily obtainable substances that I could take between hydrocodone binges to help with what I now knew to be withdrawal: Kratom, and loperamide... This cycle continued on for a while, my tolerance constantly increasing exponentially, until I was introduced to a new co-worker. As it turns out, this guy used to be an addict too! After swapping our stories, I realized that he knew where to get just about anything... Much stronger substances than I had experienced so far. Namely:
OXYCODONE, in the form of 30mg Roxicodone tablets. Holy, sweet, mother of God, I had found my new love... My occupation granted me enough money to where I eventually ended up with a 300mg/day oxy habit... My co-worker was now hooked again as well... I could still function, eat, pay my bills, I could still work; hell, I could work my ass off on this stuff, and for the longest time, nobody else had the slightest clue what was going on... (Well, my dad did eventually, but I'll get to that.)
Sure, I experimented with plenty of other opiates and non-opiates in those years, but oxy was my one true love: Hydrocodone of course, codeine, propoxyphene, morphine, heroin, hydromorphone, methadone, fentanyl, etcetera-- and once my dad discovered what was going on, he sent me to his psychiatrist, who put me on buprenorphine... Other drugs included cocaine, pot (I can't
stand pot), LSA (H.W.B. seeds), shrooms, amphetamine, methylphenidate, just about every common benzo known to man, and plenty of other things I'm sure... Most of them had their novelty, just not enough to hold my attention for very long... Except for
one, which I will mention in a minute...
Duration of Addiction/Dependence
Mentally? I was hooked, line and sinker, from that very first dose of hydrocodone cough syrup... Instant head-over-heels love at first sight... My actual physical dependence lasted for several years. I've kind of lost track at this point... Three or four at least, not including the 16 months I spent on bupe.
Adverse Effects
I mentioned benzos a minute ago... Let's start with those. Most of them didn't really do much for me-- until I discovered Xanax. I don't know why that particular one was different, but the way I'd go through it they might as well have been Skittles... There's not really much to tell in that respect, because honestly, I don't remember much. When I start taking Xanax ... I won't stop. Not until I either run out, or black out. I simply can't. Once Xanax kicks in, I am NOT in control of my actions anymore... What I
do know is that it's a Goddamn miracle that I never ended up in either a jail cell or a pine box six feet under because of that stuff-- and that I never developed a physical dependence to it... I ran my truck off the road more times than I can count from blacking out while driving-- yes, driving, and I only remember that because the adrenaline surge must've given me a second or two of lucidity... I've passed out in places and woken up with absolutely no recollection of why I was there or how I got there. One time I woke up in the middle of the floor of my apartment with two black eyes, a really nasty gash on my left shin, and an inexplicable deep puncture wound on my left big toe... I got fired from my family's business, evicted from my apartment and lost my truck-- all ultimately due to Xanax abuse... You'd think I'd have learned my lesson before it got that far. Hell, I'm not sure I have yet. I still (ab)use it from time to time...
As for opiates? Well, they say pot gives you the munchies, right? Same goes for opiates... I weighed 214 pounds before I switched from oxy to buprenorphine. I weigh about 160 now, heh... A lot of people I haven't seen in a while say they barely recognize me.
I have had a couple overdoses. The first was with Fentanyl, which you can read about here if you wish:
http://bit.ly/ZCxXaR ... I still have no idea how I actually survived that without medical attention... The next one was more recently. Slight, uh ... relapse, you might say. Another stupid idea inspired by Xanax; 30mg of it, to be exact. I remembered that I had some fresh syringes buried in my closet, so I had someone else (thank God) drive me out to get a few Roxi 30's to play with. (Hey, it seemed like a good idea at the time. That's how fucking stupid Xanax makes you...) I snorted one 30 to start with, then shot one, and after puking on myself, I shot the third one... As soon as I slid the needle out, I was gone. Out like a damn light... How I remember any of that when the previous few hours are blanked out, I have no idea-- and AGAIN, how I survived that, especially in that drug combination and those doses, without medical attention is beyond me...
Warnings and Advice
The best advice I can give anyone about drugs? Don't...
Just ... don't. Life is so much better without them, but it seems like it takes an extraordinary amount of suffering and mistakes for a lot of people to ultimately realize that... At least, it did for me. In the end, it's just not fucking worth it. Pardon my language, but it's not... If you're lucky over the course of your drug career, you might end up with a little bit of experience and gritty wisdom that you wouldn't have gained otherwise, and you might even consider those things valuable in some twisted sense; but ask yourself this-- are you
really better off having gained it? I ask myself that question every day, and ... my own brain battles between the philosophical and the logical for an answer, and I don't think that battle will ever end... Deep down I know what the sensible answer is, but some part of me actually values what I've been through, and it makes the other half of me sick...
BUT ... People are going to do drugs anyway. So whatever you decide to do, the absolute best thing is to educate yourself. Do as much research on the stuff you put into your body as you can. Know your substance(s), know their chemistry, know your dosages, know your body... It could save you a lot of pain and suffering, and just might save your life...