OneEyedRonnie
Bluelighter
- Joined
- Jan 29, 2016
- Messages
- 58
*DISCLAIMER TL/DR*
Well, it's been a couple years since my last entry. B is long gone and I am renting a room at 79 X Street in Z. I have until Nov. 17 to vacate the
premises as I have fallen behind on my rent. My life has become a mess.
In March of this year I began ordering a highly addictive compound called Phenibut from a vendor I discovered online. It seemed to work
wonders. It gave me confidence, increased verbal fluency and acted as an anxiolytic (sp?) without being sedating.
I felt like Superman.
The warning on the bottle cautioned against taking it more than a couple times a week as tolerance is quick to develop. I did not heed that
warning. I used Phenibut daily for the past six months, in ever increasing dosages. The times I would run out before the next shipment arrived
were marked with bouts of horrific withdrawal. I have experienced terror unlike anything I've felt before. I would piss in empty Gatorade bottles
for fear of leaving my rented room and encountering another human in the hallway. The next shipment would never be too far behind though and
I would dive head first back in time and time again.
I was up to 25 300 mg pills a day (7.5 g).
My most recent shipment was due to arrive Friday Aug. 2, the same day I was due to run out. It got held up at customs for 12 hours, and, since
UPS only ships on business days, I would have to wait until Monday. But wait! Monday was Labour Day (a stat holiday here in Canada) and UPS
does not ship on stat holidays either. By the time I received my package on Tues Aug 6 I was four days deep into withdrawal. I entered the house
at approximately 21:30, exhausted after a twelve hour shift, eagerly opened the tightly sealed box containing my precious cargo, walked back
outside with it, down the street a short way and summarily dumped it in the sewer (bad I know).
Today is Day Six.
I feel like I am going through a living hell and I can tell nobody why. It is my greatest and darkest secret. My GABA and dopamine
neurotransmitters have down-regulated to the point that I am half crazed. And where does it end? I am afraid sitting in my room, afraid to go to
the store, terrified to go to work. . .
If I had enough days off I would just go to the hospital.
I am hoping for some light at the end of this tunnel. I have been using klonipin to ease the symptoms of my withdrawal and have even managed
to taper my dosage to half a 0.5 mg pill at a time today. Still, I feel I am in danger of losing everything and sometimes the thought of death
seems welcome.
I almost forgot to mention the anhedonia!
The inability to experience pleasure. I have been unable to do anything but lay in bed and stare at the wall or ceiling and claw at the bars of my
self-imposed cage until my fingers are little more than bleeding stumps.
Yes, my friends. I have been very stupid indeed.
Well, it's been a couple years since my last entry. B is long gone and I am renting a room at 79 X Street in Z. I have until Nov. 17 to vacate the
premises as I have fallen behind on my rent. My life has become a mess.
In March of this year I began ordering a highly addictive compound called Phenibut from a vendor I discovered online. It seemed to work
wonders. It gave me confidence, increased verbal fluency and acted as an anxiolytic (sp?) without being sedating.
I felt like Superman.
The warning on the bottle cautioned against taking it more than a couple times a week as tolerance is quick to develop. I did not heed that
warning. I used Phenibut daily for the past six months, in ever increasing dosages. The times I would run out before the next shipment arrived
were marked with bouts of horrific withdrawal. I have experienced terror unlike anything I've felt before. I would piss in empty Gatorade bottles
for fear of leaving my rented room and encountering another human in the hallway. The next shipment would never be too far behind though and
I would dive head first back in time and time again.
I was up to 25 300 mg pills a day (7.5 g).
My most recent shipment was due to arrive Friday Aug. 2, the same day I was due to run out. It got held up at customs for 12 hours, and, since
UPS only ships on business days, I would have to wait until Monday. But wait! Monday was Labour Day (a stat holiday here in Canada) and UPS
does not ship on stat holidays either. By the time I received my package on Tues Aug 6 I was four days deep into withdrawal. I entered the house
at approximately 21:30, exhausted after a twelve hour shift, eagerly opened the tightly sealed box containing my precious cargo, walked back
outside with it, down the street a short way and summarily dumped it in the sewer (bad I know).
Today is Day Six.
I feel like I am going through a living hell and I can tell nobody why. It is my greatest and darkest secret. My GABA and dopamine
neurotransmitters have down-regulated to the point that I am half crazed. And where does it end? I am afraid sitting in my room, afraid to go to
the store, terrified to go to work. . .
If I had enough days off I would just go to the hospital.
I am hoping for some light at the end of this tunnel. I have been using klonipin to ease the symptoms of my withdrawal and have even managed
to taper my dosage to half a 0.5 mg pill at a time today. Still, I feel I am in danger of losing everything and sometimes the thought of death
seems welcome.
I almost forgot to mention the anhedonia!
The inability to experience pleasure. I have been unable to do anything but lay in bed and stare at the wall or ceiling and claw at the bars of my
self-imposed cage until my fingers are little more than bleeding stumps.
Yes, my friends. I have been very stupid indeed.
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