^ lol, i was kind of wondering about that post myself. what is "OXYCODONE" going to do to repair whatever short-term or long-term brain damage the op seems to be suffering from? admittedly, it might make him feel better (until it wears off), just because it often does, but i don't see the relevance otherwise really.
RCs good god, MDPV withdrawal after 1000mg binge, seriously?
- Thread starter Soap MacTavish
- Start date
jamesBrown
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maybe the fact that it would make him feel better was the only relevance. I dont see why there needs to be another cnnection there for that to be relevant. Making someone feel better is a good thing to do and if I were in a situation where oxy would make me feel better, and I didnt know it, I would like someone to tell me.
wtblife
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Btw jamesBrown, I was totally just fucking around with that comment, but it is kind of true lol. I understand what you mean and a small amount of opiates may help him deal, but for the most part I think this dude wants to recover from his terrible binge and should be on as little drugs as possible. That still isn't why I think it was bad advice really though, it's more the doses and all sorts of crap, a person with no opiate tolerance popping 6 percocets would probably feel sick. If not just from all that apap.
In all honesty if he's gonna still be taking adderall if he could replace them with a low dose of opiates (maybe oxy) he would probably be better off, but it just sounded like PainGame was aiming to turn him into an opiate addict or something. I was probably a bit harsh and I'm sure he meant well.
In all honesty if he's gonna still be taking adderall if he could replace them with a low dose of opiates (maybe oxy) he would probably be better off, but it just sounded like PainGame was aiming to turn him into an opiate addict or something. I was probably a bit harsh and I'm sure he meant well.
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jamesBrown
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Hey guys, I was never the one talking about pumping him full of opiates to "make him better"...If you read my two earlier posts on the first page of this thread you would see that I reccommended that he stop doing drugs, eat fresh natural fruits and vegetables, and get protein, etc....along with exercise.
I never told him to take a bunch of opiates....I was simply responding to your post which made it sound like oxy wouldnt help him at all.....which I disagreeed with because I think that if someones in a better mood mentally because they physicaly feel better, than they are more likely to heal quicker.
I never told him to take a bunch of opiates....I was simply responding to your post which made it sound like oxy wouldnt help him at all.....which I disagreeed with because I think that if someones in a better mood mentally because they physicaly feel better, than they are more likely to heal quicker.
statements like that make it poor advice. for instance, where does the OP say that he has zero tolerance? in the first post, i think he makes reference to this being worse than iv heroin withdrawal, which leads me to believe that he has at least opiate experience. if he has zero tolerance, it's even worse advice.
Then there are statements like these. It's a completely subjective observation, stated as fact.
And these unsourced assertions that may or may not be true... also, does the writer purport that bc his own experience w/ an almost oxycodone overdose was more like an overdose on speed, then that is supposed to lend support to the idea that oxy will fix everything?? i don't get it...
i'm not trying to be a jerk or anything here, and oxy probably will make the OP feel slightly better, bc it usually makes people feel better, but I don't think the quoted post sasid that very well and instead tried to make it sound like scientifically oxy was the antedote to a speed overdose, which it is not.
wtblife
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I know this, don't worry.
FreeThePod
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So OP, how have your symptoms been in the last couple days? Hope you're doing OK.
malakaix
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I have to agree with wtblife, that was an incredible report on your MDPV usage. I've read alot of reports on psychedelic drugs and hallucinations, but they dont even compare to the intense delusions of speed, i could taste the adrenaline as i read on.. gritty, real, out of control and raw to the bone experience, it truly takes you into a world of madness.
dcraver877
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hopefully he's checked himself into the psych ward by now....
Soap MacTavish
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Hey guys, thanks so much for your support and compliments, I'm glad you could feel it, and were there along with me for this one, which is a real spine-chiller and still nowhere near over yet.
My symptoms did improve decently and then I made another terrible fucking mistake. Why? Because I'm stupid and that's what I do.
As I sit here looking down at the keyboard, still jitterbugging and spaced, there is a plastic hospital ER bracelet around my left wrist and taped over cotton on my right arm where they were takin out my blood and stuff. This is where I ended up 2 nights ago, but first lets rewind the tape to the beginning...
So as you all have read, my mind had gotten well toasted from the peev, and it left me burned badly, a charred out husk of a man with insect-like hungers.
My brain felt so damaged I thought some therapeutic amphetamine might re-ignite some torched neurons and bring me back from the abyss. Well this turned out to be another shithead idea. What it did was send me spiraling headlong into the most intense episode of psychosis I have ever experienced.
This time I was in my house, alone, because the wife is gone now seeking a divorce. She took the kids and the dog with her when she left, fearing what might happen to them. So anyway, I popped a handful of amps and within 40 minutes I was spotting narcotics surveillance vehicles all over the place outside the front window. I remember the distinct feeling that "something just doesn't look right about these cars, it's the way they're parked, it's wrong, it's been staged, clearly faked and staged". So I closed all the windows tight and taped up paper towels anywhere there were cracks. I became convinced that this fat brunette bitch sitting in her car in front of my house was actually a private detective that my wife had hired to document all my paranoid activities to be used against me in court. I watched her very closely in that car out my peephole. My peephole became an oxygen lifeline to me as I sat reeling in the underwater tank of fears that previously was my home. So I watched her and watched and waited to see what trick she was going to try next. Eventually I got pissed off, I mean what kind of fucking sting is this anyway? They send out an agent to watch somebody's fuckin home and spy on them all day, and then they record the subject acting paranoid as if somebody is watching them - AND THERE IS SOMEBODY WATCHING THEM - and then they send the tape away to some judge who slams down the gavel proclaiming my insanity??? What the hell dude, this world is not right.
So I eventually got so aggravated I called the cops and reported this god damn half-assed 2-bit phony in her "vehicle". Well when the police car got there and was checking out the car they found that there was actually no one in the car, it was purely a delusion. The police got one look at me they knew I was a sick man and a lost soul. They could tell I was some spaced out porn-jockey too cuz my palms are caked with vaseline and my hand tendons are like steel cords from all the overuse. They suggested I calm the fuck down and relax as they cordially invited themselves in to my castle of paranoia for a quick look around.
"ahhh mister MacTavish ya mind if we come in?"
"Yes I do mind"
"ok mister MacTavish, we're comin in then"
Well, luckily, I had nothing to get me busted and they left. Meanwhile I continued to look out all my windows for this spy and her assailants. I got so freaked out I was seeing her out almost every window, hiding in bushes, camouflaged in the trees, it was a horror show truly. I got so freaked out I was taping empty pizza boxes to the windows. It became too much up there so I retreated to my basement where it would be safe.
Well it wasn't safe in the basement. They found me down there too, I could see how they were slipping these long skinny flexible tubes that had scopes on the tip right through some of the bigger cracks in the walls and also they were popping out of the electrical wiring ports and fuse box conduits. By now I'm sure I really did look like a paranoid freak. It felt like I was running a thousand miles per hour and going nowhere. No matter where I hid, I would start hearing the sounds of these tube things coming through the walls at me. My ears started ringing and I was struck with a wave of fear that hinged on the thought "There is no safe place to hide". My God, it's true, there is no safe place. I mean lately it's like no matter what I do there are dark forces at work trying to wreck me. I became enraged. How could these hell-spawned demons do this to people who were just minding their own business? What kind of depraved beast was responsible for all this?
There was a loud whisper that kept talking to me and I began to trust it, it kept saying "they can't see you in the dark" repeatedly, so I obeyed it and I cut off all the lights and all the power to the house in the circuit-breaker box. I spent the next 3 hours stalking from room to room in my house in near pitch black, save for the moonlight and the gentle warm glow from the backdrop of the city. Each room held another grizzly display of chaos and insanity. Each room, always the same, bloody fucking chaos and insanity. This was their calling card, had to be, they were inside the fucking house. INSIDE. Then I saw them.
I could see these skinny criminals dressed completely in black that had snuck in using some mysterious ninja-like artform that could keep their footsteps 100% silent, and these things were stealing everything in my house. they took it all up to the attic and then on to roof and were lowering it all down on these complex ropes and pullies. I couldn't believe it, I was being robbed in my own house and I could not find these guys, but I could sure hear them. I was so utterly convinced that I again decided to call the police to alert them of this robbery in progress. Yes I know, bad fucking idea. Within minutes the front of my home was ablaze with 4 police cars and they all came in to find these hidden robbers in my attic. They did their search and cleared my house, then it was my turn for the spotlight again. The police questioned me extensively and had flashlights in my eyes and were asking me what day it was. I didn't even know. But after a lot of noise they actually left me again to my own delusional devices.
Not long after they left I went to look for these guys because I knew they might have fooled some dumb cops but they do not fool me. So I grabbed the biggest knife I could find in the kitchen and I went stalking in pure silence through the attic. I hovered about 6 inches off the ground and breathed slow deep deliberate breaths like a jaguar stalking its prey. I spoke in a loud whisper "you might have fooled them...but you don't fool me" So I think I spent an hour or so in the attic, stalking, hunting, with animal intensity. It must be around 5 or 6am at this point.
So I could not find these guys. But I came downstairs and again there they were and this time they had more assailants with them, they were outside in cars and in the cars they all had infrared night vision scopes so I would not be able to escape them in the dark. I instantly dropped to the floor and scurried like a crab until I found a hiding place under my desk, all the while they were at it again, I could hear them all going to work stealing things and using the pullies to drag it down from the roof and now they were loading it into their fucking cars, these motherfuckers.
At this moment I decided to just say fuckit, if I'm gonna die like this I'm gonna take one of you out with me. So I stood up and walked over to the front windows and tore the blankets out to fully expose their positions in their cars, so now I'm standing here in the window with a giant butcher knife slashing wildly in the air and yelling obscenities at these home invaders.
It didn't take the cops too much longer to arrive again and they didn't even wanna hear anything about these guys stealing my house, they just carted me away for a full psych eval. They ran tests and probed me and for all practical purposes they could find nothing "wrong" but the dude doing the evaluation decided to let me sleep for a few hours in one of those padded rooms, I was handcuffed to the little bed right in the middle of the room.
When daylight came it was over. But now it looks like I have some increased sensitivity to dementia. As if I'm not demented enough already. Seems the combination of Peevee withdrawal and amphetamine is a bad synergy.
Now as I sit in my home, curtains drawn, windows locked, the remains of delusions scattered on the floors, I wonder what tomorrow will bring. I wonder if I will make it out of this one or just go completely and irreversibly insane.
This is a bit of the truly inglorious side of what happens to people like me. These days are lonely now, filled mainly with the dim electrical hum of a computer and a delusion world where you have no friends, only enemies, everywhere.
As i look out into my yard, things don't look as alive as they used to, where there was once a beautiful garden, now there is only overgrowth and a derelict wheel barrel. Where once there was the sounds of happiness and children playing, now there is only the wind and a lonely freight train passing in the distance.
I'll keep the fires burning, someone has to...
My symptoms did improve decently and then I made another terrible fucking mistake. Why? Because I'm stupid and that's what I do.
As I sit here looking down at the keyboard, still jitterbugging and spaced, there is a plastic hospital ER bracelet around my left wrist and taped over cotton on my right arm where they were takin out my blood and stuff. This is where I ended up 2 nights ago, but first lets rewind the tape to the beginning...
So as you all have read, my mind had gotten well toasted from the peev, and it left me burned badly, a charred out husk of a man with insect-like hungers.
My brain felt so damaged I thought some therapeutic amphetamine might re-ignite some torched neurons and bring me back from the abyss. Well this turned out to be another shithead idea. What it did was send me spiraling headlong into the most intense episode of psychosis I have ever experienced.
This time I was in my house, alone, because the wife is gone now seeking a divorce. She took the kids and the dog with her when she left, fearing what might happen to them. So anyway, I popped a handful of amps and within 40 minutes I was spotting narcotics surveillance vehicles all over the place outside the front window. I remember the distinct feeling that "something just doesn't look right about these cars, it's the way they're parked, it's wrong, it's been staged, clearly faked and staged". So I closed all the windows tight and taped up paper towels anywhere there were cracks. I became convinced that this fat brunette bitch sitting in her car in front of my house was actually a private detective that my wife had hired to document all my paranoid activities to be used against me in court. I watched her very closely in that car out my peephole. My peephole became an oxygen lifeline to me as I sat reeling in the underwater tank of fears that previously was my home. So I watched her and watched and waited to see what trick she was going to try next. Eventually I got pissed off, I mean what kind of fucking sting is this anyway? They send out an agent to watch somebody's fuckin home and spy on them all day, and then they record the subject acting paranoid as if somebody is watching them - AND THERE IS SOMEBODY WATCHING THEM - and then they send the tape away to some judge who slams down the gavel proclaiming my insanity??? What the hell dude, this world is not right.
So I eventually got so aggravated I called the cops and reported this god damn half-assed 2-bit phony in her "vehicle". Well when the police car got there and was checking out the car they found that there was actually no one in the car, it was purely a delusion. The police got one look at me they knew I was a sick man and a lost soul. They could tell I was some spaced out porn-jockey too cuz my palms are caked with vaseline and my hand tendons are like steel cords from all the overuse. They suggested I calm the fuck down and relax as they cordially invited themselves in to my castle of paranoia for a quick look around.
"ahhh mister MacTavish ya mind if we come in?"
"Yes I do mind"
"ok mister MacTavish, we're comin in then"
Well, luckily, I had nothing to get me busted and they left. Meanwhile I continued to look out all my windows for this spy and her assailants. I got so freaked out I was seeing her out almost every window, hiding in bushes, camouflaged in the trees, it was a horror show truly. I got so freaked out I was taping empty pizza boxes to the windows. It became too much up there so I retreated to my basement where it would be safe.
Well it wasn't safe in the basement. They found me down there too, I could see how they were slipping these long skinny flexible tubes that had scopes on the tip right through some of the bigger cracks in the walls and also they were popping out of the electrical wiring ports and fuse box conduits. By now I'm sure I really did look like a paranoid freak. It felt like I was running a thousand miles per hour and going nowhere. No matter where I hid, I would start hearing the sounds of these tube things coming through the walls at me. My ears started ringing and I was struck with a wave of fear that hinged on the thought "There is no safe place to hide". My God, it's true, there is no safe place. I mean lately it's like no matter what I do there are dark forces at work trying to wreck me. I became enraged. How could these hell-spawned demons do this to people who were just minding their own business? What kind of depraved beast was responsible for all this?
There was a loud whisper that kept talking to me and I began to trust it, it kept saying "they can't see you in the dark" repeatedly, so I obeyed it and I cut off all the lights and all the power to the house in the circuit-breaker box. I spent the next 3 hours stalking from room to room in my house in near pitch black, save for the moonlight and the gentle warm glow from the backdrop of the city. Each room held another grizzly display of chaos and insanity. Each room, always the same, bloody fucking chaos and insanity. This was their calling card, had to be, they were inside the fucking house. INSIDE. Then I saw them.
I could see these skinny criminals dressed completely in black that had snuck in using some mysterious ninja-like artform that could keep their footsteps 100% silent, and these things were stealing everything in my house. they took it all up to the attic and then on to roof and were lowering it all down on these complex ropes and pullies. I couldn't believe it, I was being robbed in my own house and I could not find these guys, but I could sure hear them. I was so utterly convinced that I again decided to call the police to alert them of this robbery in progress. Yes I know, bad fucking idea. Within minutes the front of my home was ablaze with 4 police cars and they all came in to find these hidden robbers in my attic. They did their search and cleared my house, then it was my turn for the spotlight again. The police questioned me extensively and had flashlights in my eyes and were asking me what day it was. I didn't even know. But after a lot of noise they actually left me again to my own delusional devices.
Not long after they left I went to look for these guys because I knew they might have fooled some dumb cops but they do not fool me. So I grabbed the biggest knife I could find in the kitchen and I went stalking in pure silence through the attic. I hovered about 6 inches off the ground and breathed slow deep deliberate breaths like a jaguar stalking its prey. I spoke in a loud whisper "you might have fooled them...but you don't fool me" So I think I spent an hour or so in the attic, stalking, hunting, with animal intensity. It must be around 5 or 6am at this point.
So I could not find these guys. But I came downstairs and again there they were and this time they had more assailants with them, they were outside in cars and in the cars they all had infrared night vision scopes so I would not be able to escape them in the dark. I instantly dropped to the floor and scurried like a crab until I found a hiding place under my desk, all the while they were at it again, I could hear them all going to work stealing things and using the pullies to drag it down from the roof and now they were loading it into their fucking cars, these motherfuckers.
At this moment I decided to just say fuckit, if I'm gonna die like this I'm gonna take one of you out with me. So I stood up and walked over to the front windows and tore the blankets out to fully expose their positions in their cars, so now I'm standing here in the window with a giant butcher knife slashing wildly in the air and yelling obscenities at these home invaders.
It didn't take the cops too much longer to arrive again and they didn't even wanna hear anything about these guys stealing my house, they just carted me away for a full psych eval. They ran tests and probed me and for all practical purposes they could find nothing "wrong" but the dude doing the evaluation decided to let me sleep for a few hours in one of those padded rooms, I was handcuffed to the little bed right in the middle of the room.
When daylight came it was over. But now it looks like I have some increased sensitivity to dementia. As if I'm not demented enough already. Seems the combination of Peevee withdrawal and amphetamine is a bad synergy.
Now as I sit in my home, curtains drawn, windows locked, the remains of delusions scattered on the floors, I wonder what tomorrow will bring. I wonder if I will make it out of this one or just go completely and irreversibly insane.
This is a bit of the truly inglorious side of what happens to people like me. These days are lonely now, filled mainly with the dim electrical hum of a computer and a delusion world where you have no friends, only enemies, everywhere.
As i look out into my yard, things don't look as alive as they used to, where there was once a beautiful garden, now there is only overgrowth and a derelict wheel barrel. Where once there was the sounds of happiness and children playing, now there is only the wind and a lonely freight train passing in the distance.
I'll keep the fires burning, someone has to...
BIGsherm7272
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- Dec 7, 2009
- Messages
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oh man......talk about pure fear & loathing in your own house, that sounds like some crazy shit man.......very well written though, at least your mind is coherent enough to keep up the great attention to detail. I can only imagine what you looked liked.....well hope you get better dude.
wtblife
Bluelighter
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- Jul 16, 2010
- Messages
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I think you did even before this, covering up your windows and stuff with pizza boxes lmao. I really feel like I have to experience this insanity, the worst I've experienced was just a 5 day amp binge and I found myself scared to leave my room because of the engulfing shadows with people/creatures in them. I think you're the closest I've ever heard of someone going bonkers from drugs.
Darkness is really torturous though, the voice lied to you. At night I find myself seeing shit all over, but I just ignore it cause I'm mostly sane. I avoid driving at night for that reason.
I can't believe you actually called the cops, more than once even. Definitely bonkers :D
I still love you though, even more than before. I enjoyed part 2 even more than the peev experience I think. Bonfire at your place (since you got the fires goin ;P)?
Btw what medication are you on now after this experience?
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dcraver877
Bluelighter
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- Apr 18, 2009
- Messages
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lay off any stims for a month and you will feel much better. Although its probably gonna take 6 mos.- year to feel good again ![:\](https://bluelight.org/xf/BL_Images/Orig_Emoji/wrygrin.gif "wry grin :\")
. At least that was my case on doing meth ONCE for several days (not in a row).
. At least that was my case on doing meth ONCE for several days (not in a row).
fryingsquirrel
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- Oct 9, 2006
- Messages
- 2,806
I told ya getting that PV was a bad idea. Do I know that from personal experience? Yeah. I wasn't QUITE as out there as you, but far enough. And the craziest part was I still sold enough out of that gram to maybe triple what it cost, I didn't have to come down, ever!!!!!!!!!!!!
Haven't ordered any since. Scary shit.
Haven't ordered any since. Scary shit.