imagination.of.extremity
Bluelighter
- Joined
- Oct 28, 2020
- Messages
- 82
What's up BL Crew? Hope your night was better than mine!
So, I smoked a bit of meth today. A small amount. Less than the past two days. Went to my classes. When I came home to take my Seroquel dose I accidentally took one of my antidepressants (Escalitopram) even though I'd been off them all week since I've been smoking. I have no idea why I took it, probably muscle memory. I know not to mix that stuff. I can read, surprise surprise. But yeah, it barely registered that I swallowed both pills.
I was making the 4 hour drive up to Denver to see my fiance for Halloween weekend and watch his band do a gig. I got my cats loaded up in the car, and all my stuff, and headed out. About 40 minutes into my drive (going up a steep-ass mountain pass) my legs and forearms start tingling in a prickly way. It kind of burns. I start thinking, whoa, maybe I "overamped" as the cool kids say...within about 30 seconds it was clear I was not overamping. For starters, I had smoked less water than I had all week. Also, my heart rate was calm and steady. This wasn't a problem with circulation...then HOLY FUCK THE ENTIRE TOPS OF MY THIGHS WENT NUMB, MY HANDS CRAMPED UP LIKE LOBSTER CLAWS AROUND THE STEERING WHEEL--I COULD NOT MOVE THEM--MY CHEST SUDDENLY GOT ALL TIGHT SO I HAD TROUBLE BREATHING, MY NECK SUDDENLY CRAMPED UP SO BADLY THAT I COULDN'T KEEP MY HEAD UP STRAIGHT, AND TO TOP IT ALL OFF--MY ENTIRE FACE GOES FUCKING NUMB. I DON'T MEAN COKE NUMB OR DENTIST NUMB. I MEAN, I COULD NOT FEEL MY FACE AT ALL AND IT FELT LIKE I WAS WEARING A THICK RUBBERY MASK MADE OF PLASTIC AND PLASTER OR SOMETHING.IT FELT LIKE MY FACE WAS GOING TO SLIP OFF IF I LEANED TOO FAR FORWARD. MY FACE IS PARALYZED--I CAN'T SMILE AND I CAN BARELY OPEN MY MOUTH ENOUGH TO BREATHE.
It is then that I remember taking the antidepressant and go "Ohhhh, this is SEROTONIN SYNDROME!" My worst nightmare. Literally why I don't fuck with pills and Molly. I concentrated all my energy on steering the wheel, driving slowly and responsibly. I can't feel my legs, my chest is so tight that my breath is coming in sharp wheezes, my lips start to swell up and get all numb like an allergic reaction...and to make things worse my calves all the way down to my feet start cramping like a motherfucker, causing me to step on the gas. Somehow, I drive the car about 30 minutes in this state and end up pulling in to a 7/11. I pump $20 worth of gas, wedging my lobster-claw-hand into the gas pump holder. My legs are wobbling with tension. I go back in to the gas station and go to the bathroom where I take the longest, most relaxed pee of my life and start to feel marginally better. Then I look at my face in the mirror. I stretch it and poke it. My face is totally, completely numb and white as chalk. But hey, on the bright side, my hands and feet are warm and my heart is beating within a normal range--I'm blessed with good blood pressure even at the worst of times (the Seroquel does help fore sure)
I need to eat something. I but a Snickers. I go out to the car and force it down. I try to open a bottle of lemon-lime Gatorade (electrolytes, bitches) but my lobster-claw fucking hands can't open jack shit. I sit in the car for a moment and breathe. It's all I can do to keep my breathing slow. I can't feel large sections of my legs, while the parts I can feel have surges of electricity running through them. Yikes. My forearms are also being electrocuted. I'm pouring meth sweat which I guess does kind of smell like cat pee. I have 3 cats with me in the car so if anyone notices I'll just blame it on them I guess...
I get back on the highway. I have about 3 hours to get to Denver. My hands decide to cramp even farther turning into bent spades basically and I start steering with my elbows for a bit. I just focus on driving save and slow and breathing nice and deep. Occasionally I take my gimp hands and try to rub my scalp, to bring circulation there. The top of my head feels all electrical and it also feels swollen, this is in my imagination, but it feels like it is going to blow off. A little farther down the road, my tongue swells up. Between my swollen retard worm of a tongue lolling around and my chest being in stitches I can barely breathe. I have my head straight up now, looking down my nose at the road, huffing and puffing. My saliva tastes slightly caustic like meth. My armpits seriously smell like trash, and yet I'm kind of getting off on it at the same time? I must be delirious. And as I pass by business parks on the south side of Colorado Springs it occurs to me that I am having some kind of serious allergic reaction. It occurs to me that serotonin syndrome is kind of like a slow-motion seizure plus a panic attack plus severe allergic reaction. It occurs to me that I might actually be dying, I might actually suffocate to death all because of a 10 MG Escitalopram that is on most days the most benign of pills...
Yet I keep driving. I make it through Colorado Springs. It's dark out, and on the north side of town they've set up a construction site that is a literal labyrinth: a 2 lane road that swerves and curves and has huge cement dividers on each side so there is literally no wiggle room. I almost swerve into the other lane multiple times. I gasp and screech in spite of myself, though since my mouth and jaw are paralyzed it comes out sounding like a speech impediment. As I'm weaving through this creosote and cement HELLSCAPE I start to think crazy thoughts like, "What if my face lasts like this forever?" or "What if all that prickling is permanent nerve damage and I'll always be in pain?" I stayed calm, breathing deeply, rolling the steering wheel as best I could with RETARD CLAW APPENDAGES and my inner voice was trying to convince me that it would all be swell, that seritonin syndrome could only last a few hours at most. And this was only your first case of it, so no harm done.
By the time I hit the edge of Denver, my arms and legs were feeling almost back to normal although still slightly tingly. My neck was feeling better--I could breathe deeply without collapsing my chest cavity. My ultra-numb face was now ultra-prickly, like live wires were running currently of electricity. It burned. It felt so fucking weird. I touched my face and my flesh felt so dead and a little greasy if I'm being honest. I wound my way to my fiance's apartment complex, unloaded all my stuff from the car and flopped down on his futon. That's where I am now. My arms and hands are still all prickly, and kind of spazzy, making it hard to type. I put lotion on my face and it is burning like maybe I have fibromyalgia. But the worst is my armpits. I literally smell like burning trash and ammonia. As soon as I "post thread" I'm on my way to the shower.
I'll wash and moisturize and shave and exfoliate and all the things that will make me like a lady again. I'll brush my teeth and gloss my lips and I'll make some tea. And if I'm being honest I'll load up a baby crystal and obliterate it just for kicks. In about an hour my sweet, loving, straight-edge fiance will arrive home from band practice with his industrial band and I'll fawn over him and give him love and he'll never have any idea that I almost killed myself driving up to meet him because on day 4 of a meth binge I popped a fucking anti-depressant and turned my body all straight-jacket spazzmo. I'll carefully forget to mention that I almost choked on my goddamn tongue while attempting to, like, breathe? On the south side of Colorado Springs. And I'm sure I'll also forget to mention the part where, after all that, I chug a Gatorade and burn some crystal in his apartment bathroom.
Breakfast of Champions.
Holy fuck, that is the first bad drug experience I've ever had.
At least I can blame it on the pharmaceuticals and not Tina.
That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
So, I smoked a bit of meth today. A small amount. Less than the past two days. Went to my classes. When I came home to take my Seroquel dose I accidentally took one of my antidepressants (Escalitopram) even though I'd been off them all week since I've been smoking. I have no idea why I took it, probably muscle memory. I know not to mix that stuff. I can read, surprise surprise. But yeah, it barely registered that I swallowed both pills.
I was making the 4 hour drive up to Denver to see my fiance for Halloween weekend and watch his band do a gig. I got my cats loaded up in the car, and all my stuff, and headed out. About 40 minutes into my drive (going up a steep-ass mountain pass) my legs and forearms start tingling in a prickly way. It kind of burns. I start thinking, whoa, maybe I "overamped" as the cool kids say...within about 30 seconds it was clear I was not overamping. For starters, I had smoked less water than I had all week. Also, my heart rate was calm and steady. This wasn't a problem with circulation...then HOLY FUCK THE ENTIRE TOPS OF MY THIGHS WENT NUMB, MY HANDS CRAMPED UP LIKE LOBSTER CLAWS AROUND THE STEERING WHEEL--I COULD NOT MOVE THEM--MY CHEST SUDDENLY GOT ALL TIGHT SO I HAD TROUBLE BREATHING, MY NECK SUDDENLY CRAMPED UP SO BADLY THAT I COULDN'T KEEP MY HEAD UP STRAIGHT, AND TO TOP IT ALL OFF--MY ENTIRE FACE GOES FUCKING NUMB. I DON'T MEAN COKE NUMB OR DENTIST NUMB. I MEAN, I COULD NOT FEEL MY FACE AT ALL AND IT FELT LIKE I WAS WEARING A THICK RUBBERY MASK MADE OF PLASTIC AND PLASTER OR SOMETHING.IT FELT LIKE MY FACE WAS GOING TO SLIP OFF IF I LEANED TOO FAR FORWARD. MY FACE IS PARALYZED--I CAN'T SMILE AND I CAN BARELY OPEN MY MOUTH ENOUGH TO BREATHE.
It is then that I remember taking the antidepressant and go "Ohhhh, this is SEROTONIN SYNDROME!" My worst nightmare. Literally why I don't fuck with pills and Molly. I concentrated all my energy on steering the wheel, driving slowly and responsibly. I can't feel my legs, my chest is so tight that my breath is coming in sharp wheezes, my lips start to swell up and get all numb like an allergic reaction...and to make things worse my calves all the way down to my feet start cramping like a motherfucker, causing me to step on the gas. Somehow, I drive the car about 30 minutes in this state and end up pulling in to a 7/11. I pump $20 worth of gas, wedging my lobster-claw-hand into the gas pump holder. My legs are wobbling with tension. I go back in to the gas station and go to the bathroom where I take the longest, most relaxed pee of my life and start to feel marginally better. Then I look at my face in the mirror. I stretch it and poke it. My face is totally, completely numb and white as chalk. But hey, on the bright side, my hands and feet are warm and my heart is beating within a normal range--I'm blessed with good blood pressure even at the worst of times (the Seroquel does help fore sure)
I need to eat something. I but a Snickers. I go out to the car and force it down. I try to open a bottle of lemon-lime Gatorade (electrolytes, bitches) but my lobster-claw fucking hands can't open jack shit. I sit in the car for a moment and breathe. It's all I can do to keep my breathing slow. I can't feel large sections of my legs, while the parts I can feel have surges of electricity running through them. Yikes. My forearms are also being electrocuted. I'm pouring meth sweat which I guess does kind of smell like cat pee. I have 3 cats with me in the car so if anyone notices I'll just blame it on them I guess...
I get back on the highway. I have about 3 hours to get to Denver. My hands decide to cramp even farther turning into bent spades basically and I start steering with my elbows for a bit. I just focus on driving save and slow and breathing nice and deep. Occasionally I take my gimp hands and try to rub my scalp, to bring circulation there. The top of my head feels all electrical and it also feels swollen, this is in my imagination, but it feels like it is going to blow off. A little farther down the road, my tongue swells up. Between my swollen retard worm of a tongue lolling around and my chest being in stitches I can barely breathe. I have my head straight up now, looking down my nose at the road, huffing and puffing. My saliva tastes slightly caustic like meth. My armpits seriously smell like trash, and yet I'm kind of getting off on it at the same time? I must be delirious. And as I pass by business parks on the south side of Colorado Springs it occurs to me that I am having some kind of serious allergic reaction. It occurs to me that serotonin syndrome is kind of like a slow-motion seizure plus a panic attack plus severe allergic reaction. It occurs to me that I might actually be dying, I might actually suffocate to death all because of a 10 MG Escitalopram that is on most days the most benign of pills...
Yet I keep driving. I make it through Colorado Springs. It's dark out, and on the north side of town they've set up a construction site that is a literal labyrinth: a 2 lane road that swerves and curves and has huge cement dividers on each side so there is literally no wiggle room. I almost swerve into the other lane multiple times. I gasp and screech in spite of myself, though since my mouth and jaw are paralyzed it comes out sounding like a speech impediment. As I'm weaving through this creosote and cement HELLSCAPE I start to think crazy thoughts like, "What if my face lasts like this forever?" or "What if all that prickling is permanent nerve damage and I'll always be in pain?" I stayed calm, breathing deeply, rolling the steering wheel as best I could with RETARD CLAW APPENDAGES and my inner voice was trying to convince me that it would all be swell, that seritonin syndrome could only last a few hours at most. And this was only your first case of it, so no harm done.
By the time I hit the edge of Denver, my arms and legs were feeling almost back to normal although still slightly tingly. My neck was feeling better--I could breathe deeply without collapsing my chest cavity. My ultra-numb face was now ultra-prickly, like live wires were running currently of electricity. It burned. It felt so fucking weird. I touched my face and my flesh felt so dead and a little greasy if I'm being honest. I wound my way to my fiance's apartment complex, unloaded all my stuff from the car and flopped down on his futon. That's where I am now. My arms and hands are still all prickly, and kind of spazzy, making it hard to type. I put lotion on my face and it is burning like maybe I have fibromyalgia. But the worst is my armpits. I literally smell like burning trash and ammonia. As soon as I "post thread" I'm on my way to the shower.
I'll wash and moisturize and shave and exfoliate and all the things that will make me like a lady again. I'll brush my teeth and gloss my lips and I'll make some tea. And if I'm being honest I'll load up a baby crystal and obliterate it just for kicks. In about an hour my sweet, loving, straight-edge fiance will arrive home from band practice with his industrial band and I'll fawn over him and give him love and he'll never have any idea that I almost killed myself driving up to meet him because on day 4 of a meth binge I popped a fucking anti-depressant and turned my body all straight-jacket spazzmo. I'll carefully forget to mention that I almost choked on my goddamn tongue while attempting to, like, breathe? On the south side of Colorado Springs. And I'm sure I'll also forget to mention the part where, after all that, I chug a Gatorade and burn some crystal in his apartment bathroom.
Breakfast of Champions.
Holy fuck, that is the first bad drug experience I've ever had.
At least I can blame it on the pharmaceuticals and not Tina.
That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
then I went to sleep.