Hey 'Lord', I saw you're thread while browsing the site and was thinking about joining and thought this would be a good thread to respond to for my first post.
First I wanna start out by telling everyone my experience with Opiates. I started taking Vicodin around the winter of 2008, beginning of 2009. I started off with Vicodin 7.5/500, about 2 a day the first month. I didn't do them every day, but I quickly grew a tolerance and slowly kept increasing my dosage. I was in a GED class at the time, I would have class from 10am to about 12:30pm. I would start off by taking 2 Vicodin in the morning before I left my house, then another one or two after class. This kept me high throughout the entire class, as well as my trip home and an hour or two after I got home. I enjoyed it so much, it was bliss.
Before I go any further, I'd like to explain why I liked Vicodin so much. At the time, I was shy, self conscious and always thinking about what other people thought of me. I remember one thing I had a problem with was getting dressed in the morning. Sometimes I'd take up to 2 hours just going back and forth between outfits until I found something that fit my mood and looked acceptable. Looking back, this was ridiculous. When I took vicodin, I felt like I was able to let go of inner problems I had developed over the years. I didn't really mind looking kinda sloppy, I felt more open and able to talk to strangers, I just felt like all around a better person. One thing I remember telling my friend was it made me feel like the person I wanted to be. It scares me to think back on that, did I really say that? Within a month of taking my first vicodin, I was a daily user. A relative of mine had a prescription so I was able to get for free, and whenever I wanted without a problem. This made things even harder for me cause no strings were attached, I could support my habit for free, not one penny spent. This made me slowly increase my dosage from 4 a day, to 6. I was taking them every day, as soon as I woke up, then again an hour after the high wore off. I think the greatest thing about Opiates are the body high it produces. It produces a warm fuzzy feeling, similar to that body warmth you get from taking a few shots of alcohol. I don't like alcohol though, so vicodin was the greatest thing to me. I smoked plenty of bud, almost every day to every other day. It didn't compare though.
I continued my daily usage for a few months. Then the relative I was getting the pills from got 5mg Oxycodone along with the Vicodin. I was now able to take 7.5/500 Vicodin and 5mg Oxycodone if I wanted, however I didn't mix unless I was feeling wreckless. Quickly, and I mean within 2 weeks I stopped with the vicodin and was just taking the Oxycodone. I started off with 5mg, quickly raised it to 10mg, then 15mg. Within another month or two my relative was prescriped 30mg Oxycodone instead of the 5mg. One little blue pill, a slice of heaven, was all I needed to feel amazing for most of the day. I quickly tried 60mg, then 90mg. I felt so amazing, nothing in the world could stop me from feeling this good.
Over time, 90mg or three 30mg pills was my standard for an average day. I'd wake up, pop a pill. 2 or 3 hours later I'd pop another, then the final one later in the afternoon. This kept me high all day, and I felt great. However, all this medicine was affecting my physical health. I was losing weight, barely eating once a day, and was frail and weak. I actually passed out a few times during the two summers I was hooked. Quite embarrassing, especially trying to come up with an excuse to my friends. None of them really knew, I never really told anybody till it started getting really bad towards the end.
Over time, I stopped eating like I use to, and I lost a ton of weight. I'm already a lanky guy, being 6'2 and 170-180 is the most I've weighed. I must have lost 20 pounds over the course of my addiction. I was a stick. My stomach always felt upset, but because I was high all the time I didn't mind. In fact, over time I grew to like the stomach aches, it reminded me of the high. It became such a normal thing for me, being sober and not on anything was just plain boring. I had to be high all the time, if I wasn't I'd be cranky and on edge.
Over time, I slowly began to steal to keep up my constant upping of dosages. I'd wait till my relative went into the bathroom to run in and grab some more Oxys, or Hydro's. I felt very ashamed and guilty, because almost every month they would run out of medicine early and it was my fault for it. Because of this, I went through withdrawals once a month for about 4 or 5 days till the new prescription went through. I kept this up till my relative was hospitalized, and eventually passed away in the hospital. At the time, I was up to 150mg a day, that's five 30mg pills throughout the entire day. The day my relative passed away, I took my final 150mg and stole the rest of their medicine still at my house. I slowly tried to lean myself off, but within two days I finished them.
I had to quit cold turkey, no help whatsoever. Not even my family knew I was hooked, I had to bullshit my father for days till the symptoms slowly went away. It started off with cold sweats, very hard to sleep. I kept thinking about those blue pills, constantly. I couldn't get the image out of my head. I needed just one more, one more I kept telling myself.
The first 4 to 5 days were the worst. I had nothing but severe cold sweats, constant diarrhea, stomach cramps like you wouldn't believe, and constant twitching. The only thing that helped was putting my feet in very hot water, it took away the cold sweats, which was honestly the worst part of the whole ordeal.
While we packed things up and prepared to move, I kept finding an oxy here and there on the floor, and kept taking them as soon as I found them. I found about 5 total throughout the move, which didn't last long at all, but let me tell you I tried my hardest to enjoy the high while I could.
It's been about 2 months since I last took, and I'm still mentally craving them everyday. I think about it all the time, and I even look at the floor all the time, scanning to see if one is around even though I never brought any up to my new house. It's a mental habit that kills me, I wish I never did opiates. To this day, I feel nostalgiac everytime I think about them, but I keep reminding myself how bad they made me. I lost my care for people, became secluded, lost an unhealthy amount of weight, and became an addict. I became a loser.
I've done quite a few drugs. Cannabis, Shrooms, LSD, Ecstasy, Vicodin, Valium, Ambien, Oxycodone and Morphine. None have caused me more mental harm and stress then Opiates. I crave them every day, and I think about ways to get my hands on some. It's a craving that I wish would go away.
I know this is a long read, but I felt like I had to share my story to warn you of what can and most likely will happen. I had the exact same attitude, I told myself this will not become a problem, but when you don't have reasons to stop, you won't stop. Even when you realize it's becoming a very bad addiction, no longer a habit, you still don't want to stop. I never wanted to stop in the first place, but I had to do it cold turkey cause my relative passed away. It's shameful what I did to keep up my habit. Please, treat this drug with the utmost respect, and respect yourself most of all. It truly is a devils hug. It takes you in, and treats you well but it slowly destroys you. Please be careful.
