(Please excuse length, it sort of took on a life of its own)
BRIEF (ish) BACKGROUND
I grew up in a fairly religious homeschooled family, so my access to drugs was minimal growing up. From the age of 12 I joined Air Cadets (for those of you outside the British Commonwealth, it is a quasi-military organization that prepares teens to enter one of the service branches of the (in my case Air Force). My focus was getting my pilots licence and then going the Royal Millitary College to become a fighter pilot. As such, any contact with an illegal substance, if cought, would kibosh those plans. I got my pilots licence through cadets on my 17th birthday, and on my 18th enlisted in the Air Force as a flight instructor for cadets. Once again, drugs were out of the question. That is, with one big exception: Everyone drank like Bukowski. Soon as classes were done we’d occupy our time getting loaded, riding the control tower spotlight naked, dragging a burning church down the runway towed by a truck (the burning couch sat several daring pilots, the last to tuck/ jump/ roll earning a place of honor on the mess hall wall.
Coming from a conservative Christian environment, was a taste of freedom I had been longing for. I outdid even the craziest of my peers. In spite of this frat boy behavior, drugs were barely spoken of.
Three years of working with the Air Force, and I took a job for the Minister of Justice (the Conservatives had just won their initial election) and through connections to the party I was offered a job drawing up the ministers press releases/ speeches. I was at that point 22, and getting ready for my first drug experience. Little did I know beforehand, but in the burning the candle at both ends world of politics, cocaine is the servant that dare not speak its name.
A staffer for the mayor of a major Canadian City was the first to ask, nonchalantly, if I liked to party. I answered with a definitive yes, not realizing I would be locked in a bathroom with him moments later and a toilet seat of coke staring back at me. It was an amazing experience. And finally I had found a way to maintain my nonstop drinking far beyond the usual floor hitting moment.
I continued using coke a few times a months with a wide variety of staffers, two MPs, and a city councilor. All the while, by day, writing press releases announcing a ramping up of the war on drugs. The outright two faced nature of the work I was in eventually (on top of the stress levels) led me to resign.
After the political work, I spent time working for pollsters, think tanks, and a mental health advocacy group ( this time I had been diagnosed as bipolar).
While working one summer helping out a friend, I discovered opiates for the first time in the form of OxyContin. It changed my life. The cloud of depression that followed me from adolescence would life with one sniff. I decided then and there that this was the solution to everything.
I had always been incredibly anxious, (whilst providing an outside appearance of stability), junk changed everything.
DURATION OF ACTION/ DEPENDENCE
As to the coke, my first experience came soon after my 22nd Birthday and carried on periodically (1-3 times a month) for about two years. Upon the start of my romance with opiates, my coke intake went to pretty much nothing (I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve used since 2007) Most of this of course went along with the decline in alcohol use that went with the increased opiate use (does everyone stop drinking when they start using opiates? I would place it high on the list of reasons to begin using, especially if alcohol is a problem for you)
The opiate use started off slowly, once or twice a week for a few months, until punishment eventually caught up with me. The work vehicle I was driving was involved in an accident, and as it was getting repaired, the tech found a flap of coke and showed it to my employer. Even the coke wasn’t mine (I hadn’t used for about a year at that point, I wouldn’t rat on who I knew it was. My thought was that it wouldn't be a big deal. My boss, a conservative christian, had different views. After trying to get me into a year long christian rehab, we agreed I’d attend the provincial addictions program, a 30 day inpatient 12 step based program.
I may not have had a serious habit going in, but I left a card carrying junkie. Up until rehab, I hadn’t touched a needle. Not out of fear, I just didn’t quite know how to turn a 40/80mg oxy into a shootable solution. That cahnged on the first day of rehab. Another patient asked if I wanted to get high, so I said sure. That night we went to the same AA meeting together in a church basement. We excused oursleves at different times and went to the bathroom. He had two clear works, and he showed me exactly how it was done, eventually easing the needle into me arm and pushing the plunger into paradise. I knew at that point this was life from now on.
I got drug tested once in rehab, just a day after I had shot up. It showed negative. After thirty days of remaining coherent and breathing, passed the program with flying colors, getting my bronze thirty days sober ship and leaving more hooked that I came in.
I eventually was able to get an Rx from my Dr. for Oxy and kept up my habit for about a year and a half. After that, the government got strict on harm reduction prescriptions and told my Dr. to cut me off and put me on methadone. Not much to say about that, I hated it and as soon as my first dose began decreasing until I was off. Since I’d lost contact with my previous dealers, I just started drinking heavily again, which eventually led to me losing my job.
I started working out of the city at a couple who ran an outdoor gaming centre. They gave me room an board for doing general yard work, fixing up the house and help with the games, for which they paid me. Two weeks after living with them, I found out she had Rx’s for Dilaudid and Fentanyl, and wanted to know if I knew anywhere she could sell it. It felt like I’d stumbled on a leather bag stuffed with $100 bills on the side of the road.
I immediately began shooting the dilaudids (4mg pills, usually 2 at a time, 20 times a day). I soon found two people who could buy them from me as well, and for a while things were going great. I had all the drugs I could need and was even making money on the side. This lasted until the woman (very unstable), began to think that I was going to kill her dog? Don’t ask, wierd story.
Anyway, they continues selling me the product, and, although they doubled the price they were charging once they found out what the stuff was really like (I think they used BL, lol). One day I had none of the Dilaudid left, and only a couple of fentanyl patches. I had never tried using them before, so I called the customer who bought them regularly and asked for his to come show me how to use them. He obliged, and I watched carefully as he used a ruler and razor to cut a piece off the 100mcg patch, placed it sticky side down on a large spoon, and squirted .8 CCs of Acetic Acid (Vinegar) on the spoon. WIth a lighter, he carefully boiled it down to apx .2 CCs, and drew it back into the syringe.
I took the syringe, and slowly pushed it into a vein in upper arm, pulling gently on the plunger as a small cloud of blood crept into the syringe. I can still remember the sharp pain that followed the vinegar entering my bloodstream, but that pain was followed by the most unimaginable bliss.
From that point forward, I spend the next three years shooting fentanyl nearly every day. nI as able to maintain a job as a architectural hardware consultant (examining and approving architectural openings for fire safety) I also re entered the methadone program, keeping myself on a low enough dose so as I could still get high on the fentanyl (in my case it was 40mg, which kept the worst of the sickness away if I had no access, and not interfering with the high too much with the fentanyl.
Due to a falling out with my dealer, I have been off fentanyl for the last six months. I think about it all the time, but on a positive note its allowed my bank coffers to expand.
ADVERSE EFFECTS
For Fentanyl, if you're shooting it the way I was, say goodbye to your surface veines. I the vinegar mixture seems to put them out of commission very quickly. I also suffered a kidney failure halfway through my using period , and although I mentioned to the Dr. the fentanyl and ROA, he said it probably had nothing to do with it, but I have my doubts.
One of the biggest warnings though, is KNOW YOUR DOSE. It is very difficult to determine how much drug you are actually getting out of a patch, and just a small difference can make the difference between life and overdose.
MISCELLANEOUS
I believe I’ve interspersed warnings and advise throughout the pretty muc TL;DR pages above, so I’ll end with a call to arms, if you will.
When I think of the risks of drug use, overdose, collapsed veins, blood borne virus, incarceration, the astronomical sums of money spent, I realize that all are result of prohibition. My use has led me to rehab, to a court imposed treatment program, all of this would not have happened if we had safe, legal, and unimpeded access to the drugs that we believe bring us the most happiness. What we do with our own bodies is a deeply personal , and some would say sacred realm. And the good news? People seem to be realizing that , especially when it comes to marijuana. What will help to bring about change for the drugs people consider hard, is for high functioning addicts to go out and spread the the word. Just like the gay rights movement achieved so much success in such a short time is the fact that they pushed celebrities and regular people to come out, letting the world know that not only is there nothing to be scared of, their heros and friends are gay.
That Berlin Wall moment is coming, lets give it a push
(If you made it to the end, I commend you)