Blogs

I'm used to writing a blog that due to a battle with an addiction I had stopped writing in.

Maybe this will be an interesting writing experience. I currently have been logging my MMT experiences, that may be transferred here.

More of a test post.

Your gang of buddies have gone off on holiday. All your tasks have been done, and now you have plenty of time on your hands. How do you pass the time? Playing free browsergames bz online should be one avenue to pass the time away. Many people similar to you are flocking online to play free online games, or massively multiplayer online role-playing games, or MMORPG's as they are normally called. The attractiveness of free browser games, among players from a large segment of age groups, has been popularized by the availability of high quality gamming hardware, high-speed internet and a wide choice of high-quality games. There is, however, one other reason for the increasing demand for online games. Not only do they cost nothing, there is usually nothing to download or install in order to be able to play these games. The nature of the browser games tell whether individual users can play them, or if they are team-based games. The games usually center around a virtual world with individual participants playing the roles of characters in those worlds.

Usually, these games are designed with no real end game in sight. Many of them can continue indefinitely through innumerable twists and turns of a plot. Many researchers believe that's a problem with these games. Many of the high quality MMO's are developed to captivate their audience. At times, the story line coupled with the high quality graphics can get individuals to become extremely attached to the characters or to the reality itself.

Die-hard participants in some of these games can very easily have difficulty distinguishing between the real world and a virtual one. Playing free browser games can usually lead to grave addiction to the games! Another criticism often leveled against MMORPG's comes from business owners and employers. These criticisms are mostly directed at PC-based MMO's. If left unsupervised, many employees often use company infrastructure to go online to satisfy their addiction for the games. A lot of this game playing goes on during work hours, which is a huge loss for the company. Browser games run on more than just PC's.

Owners of popular gamming stations, such as Nintendo DS, PSP, Xbox, PlayStation and Wii, are able to connect to the Internet and participate in MMO games. This creates yet another hurdle for MMORPG's. Online games often hog a lot of data capacity from normal residential and commercial internet services. The high graphics-based games often consume gigabytes of bandwidth from admissible data plans. As a result of this extra data usage, your monthly ISP charges could skyrocket. If played for acceptable amounts of time, free browser games can provide players with a lot of fun and entertainment. When played moderately, these games can not only be fun and informative, but they can also be a great provider of quality family time.

I awoke at 4am. My GHB bottle was completely empty. All I had was a small amount of crystal meth. The speediness of GHB's dopamine rebound had taken over. I was in no state of anxiety, but I wanted to be high. The meth lifestyle was already beginning to take over.

I wanted to be high.

I set my phone down. My sex drive had diminished. My music of choice was Mindless Self Indulgence. I broke down the crystal into 4 small lines. It crackled. The crystals seemed extremely easy to crush, as if they were made of a thin plastic material.

*phhht* Line 1
4:30 - Methamphetamine. The devil's drug. Its smoothness. It caresses a user into a state of manic euphoria. It gently sets them down. It ends. The user can choose to take more or sleep.

The effects were not enough. I felt myself begin to have the smooth concentration that meth bestows. It was not enough.

*phhht* Another line.
*phht* Line 3.
5:00 - My hands began to shake uncontrollably as I felt myself begin to give into a train of thought that raced at 100 miles per hour. I was no virgin to panic attacks, however the thing about panic attacks is that they seem different and "New" every time. This is not a good thing.

Somewhere deep down I felt that the 4th line would cure my anxiety. I felt as if meth was the end-all-beat all drug and that simply taking more could end my anxious paranoia.
....
....

*phhhhttt* Line 4.
6:00 - My heart was beating faster and faster, my breathing was uncontrollable as I had no way to solve or figure out how to end this panic; I searched frantically for more GHB, but it was all gone. Sipped up, licked up, the GHB was no where. I searched everywhere online for differences between panic attacks and heart attacks;

How would I know if I was going to die? If I seize up, who will save me? How do I make this end?!

What am I doing? I need to go to the hospital. I will have a heart attack if my heart continues to beat faster.

It only continued to progress to a higher level of hell and each hour passed by in a way like waiting for the grim reaper to finally take my life.

A panic attack is simply like having a staring contest with death.

8:00 - My vision was going blurry, I could not get my arm away from the heart rate and blood pressure monitor as the soft expansion of the blood pressure reader seemed to make my left arm feel as if it were going numb which made no justice to my condition. At this point I began to drive.

8:20 - My chest was hurting. My left arm began to feel "tingy" and in my panicked state of mind it felt numb. It was time to visit an emergency clinic.

The world was in a shade of grey, but vivid. My mind was in shock. It continued to tell me, that I would not live tomorrow.
"Hello, can I get your name, address and insurance information on this sheet of paper?" the front door person asked in a calm voice.

"Hi." I ejaculated with desperate tone, "My chest hurts and my left arm is going numb. I don't know what to do."

At this point all I wanted was to live. Live to see another day and never touch meth again. Tell my mother how much I love her.

9:30 - An EKG was run. My heart rate had gotten to a dangerously high level. My blood pressure as well. The hospital heart rate monitor was making a "warning" sound every 30 seconds. I felt foolish. Educated, accomplished doctors were helping me. I was Junkie trash.

I explained that I had been using methamphetamine to help me study. The GHB was to help me sleep and for muscle building purposes. The doctors seemed unimpressed with my decisions, however I feel as if I was treated relatively well despite the circumstances of me being there.

10:30 - This nurse changed my life.
"Please. Don't do it again." she stated in a depressed manner, "I'm raising three kids, because of that."

I was surprised, she did not look like a meth user.

"You did it?" I asked

"No. My boyfriend did."
Then she said something that would stick with me for a long time.
"He was a little older than you. He had scholarships and a successful college life. He was fixing to move on to get a career... At first he was using meth to study once a month... Then once a week until it finally got control of him. Now he's nothing but a worthless junkie. It's all gone because of his drug use."

I sat in the bed for a moment. My mind was in a state of panic. It wanted to escape the situation, but what she said had broken through the fight or flight response. It was so powerful. The story. The situation. I had been living in. A ruse. My knowledge of substance use was in no way going to save me from a hard drug addiction. The path I had gone down was leading to this moment.


Lorazepam injection was not nearly enough, but enough to get me into class later that day.

Panic attacks lasted from (6AM -> 11PM)



Conclusion.

I understand that the dopamine rebound of GHB had obviously potentiated the panic effects of a stimulant. I am currently trying to figure out why I, specifically, am so prone to panic attacks.

The meth would not have killed me, however if I had not gone to the hospital and then met the specific nurse that believed in me, it would have killed the person I was going to become.

Never let a drug control your lifestyle bluelight.

I'm logging this blog to accurately document my switching from poppy tea, to physician assisted suboxone treatment. Now, everybody's bodies & histories vary. So here is mine:
First, I am white, male, 34 years old. 6' 1" tall, and weigh in at 195 lbs. I have been using opiates off and on (mostly on) for over 10 years now. (I was badly crushed while working in November 2001.) After leaving the hospital, I was immediately given Vicodin, percocet, ect. After 2 years the doc had me on fentynal patches, oxycodone, and even methadone 10 mg tabs.. I am familiar with tolerance, and I KNOW what withdrawals are. After 7 years or so, I discovered poppy tea and the rest is history. I didn't even bother going to see my doc for pain meds anymore after that. A few weeks ago, I became eligible for Medicare, so I immediately looked for a suboxone doc in my area. I got an appointment so I had about 10 to prepare for the comming induction period. My biggest fear was the long half life of the poppy tea. I dread the withdrawals, but I DON'T want precipitated withdrawals from suboxone either. My average (once per daily) dose of tea was around 12 large/XL pods. Though I believe I was very efficient at extracting every last alkaloids from them so maybe it should be considered as a bit larger dose then that.. I weaned myself down to about half of that average dose for the last 5 days. Then, took my last dose at exactly T-48 hours. And I wish to also note that I took a dose of around 8 grams of premium Keaton 24 hours after that.. when I arrived at my appointment I was kind of worried because my withdrawals were pretty mild yet. But, the short version is that about 30 minutes following my first 1/2 tab dose, I was feeling significantly better. My doc gave me the 2nd half pill to take at home 5 hours later which I did. So, today is day two. I am going back to see my doc to receive another dosing. And I am guessing I will be sent home with an rx today so I may begin dosing in my own home after today. So far this suboxone stuff is working exactly as promised. I feel NO high at all. But I DEFINITELY feel NO withdrawals either. Kind of surprised that such a small dose is doing so much.. ill continue with this blog as time passes. Wishing you all the best

I wade my sea of grief.....waters black and cold...
It feels like I'm shoulder deep, barely able to breathe over the top, the water lapping at my chin with little whispering waves of the sweetness it would give me to surrender to it.....
If I close my eyes and visualize the water this way, it's a dark and vast, beautiful oblivion.
I want to stand in it. I'm sure that is a problem.
Looking all around me, is nothing but night sky over gorgeous dark water, moonlight kissing the top, glistening for me.....
My secrets, my desires, my longing, my endless heartache, my love, my fear and my selfishness.....we're all welcome to refuse the morning if we choose.
Part of me wants to beg for the sun to peek over the horizon and give me the same mind altering call that I feel now.
My strength, my light and the heart to fight is slowly eroding away.

ok so last night i took a pill called Effexor for the first time, and not planning to take it again.. and today i bought a molly and its my first time with pure MDMA and i was really hoping to roll tonight! do you think the effexor would take the effects of the molly? even though i havnt been taking effexor and i havnt taken it before. it says that it takes a couple weeks for antidepressents to work , so im guessing since it cant really effect me after just taking it once , the roll would be good. please tell me im right

im from new jersey and im looking for molly only had it once some body get at me

I dont even know how to put this feeling into words its a strong confusion of regret, nostalgia, and pain. I was home this weekend and it felt so wrong. I dont know what happened but I have changed. I am now a man without a country. I saw all my old friends but there was nothing there, no spark, nothing. Its over and I cant believe it. We were supposed to be brothers, but things have changed. In retrospect I can observe the decisions I made that contributed to this end and this hurts. I traded it for heroin, shit I was willing to trade everything for heroin. If I could take it back? I would and thats tough to say because I sacrificed alot of good things to fill that needle sized hole in my soul. The worst part is that I have become incredibly selfish I only think about me its always drew...drew...drew how does this effect drew. I have no personality no vitality im boring and that is tough to accept. I need to reinvent myself somehow. I want to wake up a differant person. I need to escape.

ABC

I havn't written in here for a while, so I figured I might as well update this thing...

It's been a rather intense past month, and after my relapse, things got a little messy for a while as I eased my way back into a storm of flickering lights and bleeding arms.

I stopped going to school almost entirely and instead sat under bridges and waited for stoned spaniards to bring me heroin. I'd sit at the bus stop with my sketchbook out, trying to draw the homeless man to my left, looking down when the squad cars passed, and pretending to get calls on my cellphone whenever the bus arrived.

When I'd cop I'd run to the nearbye bathroom at McDonalds and lock myself in, throwing my bag down on the ground and quickly fixing up a shot. With the grace of a pro, Id kneel down on the floor, steadying my hand, inserting the needle into my arm, registering, shooting, flushing the toilet, running the sink. I'd walk out right as the dope exploded in my brain, and though I'd be surrounded by the stench of hydrogenated oils and pink slime, I'd smell flowers and exit through the door, passing the garages, warehouses and schools, until I'd reach the train.

I'd sit outside my school for hours, not going to class, just nodding out in front of the cafeteria, ciggarettes burning my fingertips and littering my pants with ash and soot. I'd walk down to Tompkins Square park; not to cop but to see if my friend Mark was still alive. I never saw him and it didn't really hurt that bad.

I met a girl that I really fucking like, someone I can say whatever I want to and she still thinks I'm cool. She's talented, intelligent and sexy, and I cant believe that I could ever meet someone like this. Statistically the odds just seem impossible but I suppose good things (I mean, REALLY good things, not just like finding a bag of dope on the street), do happen. I once thought it was kind of liberating to transcend the desires of the flesh and replace them with sinister chemical seductions, but its kind of nice to have it switch around once again. It's nice to enjoy talking with someone, without thinking "God Damn, when will this mother fucker leave so I can find a way to shoot some dope!"

Through a forest made of worn hypodermics, bent spoons and cracked out lighters I kind of see a path out of desperation, and it's not through group therapy, twelve step programs, or even total and complete abstinence. If that works for others that's great but I've given it the best shot I've been able to muster at this age, and I know when I dont "feel" something. I just got to do what I feel is right for me, because that's the only way I can escape a life where I'm sitting in some shithole mutiliating my arms with cocaine.

A Medical Lake homeowner, attempting to protect his illegally grown marijuana, has been charged in Superior Court on second degree assault, in the December shooting of the 14 year old boy accused of trying to steal it. Justin Jeffrey Brown, along with his wife, Melissa Ann, also faces charges of growing and possessing marijuana at his home on North Grant Avenue. According to detectives, the 14 year old boy and a friend had gone to the home because they had, allegedly, stolen plants there before. When the home’s security motion sensor alarm went off, Brown responded with a .45 caliber handgun and allegedly shot the boy as he tried to leave the growing room. The injured boys accomplice, reportedly, ran home and told his parents, who contacted the police shortly after.

The Browns reported to police that they had been issued a medical marijuana growing license, but that it had expired and they had only been cultivating the plants for a month. During a search of the Brown’s property, however, evidence was obtained indicating a much larger operation and the accomplice told police he had taken plants and paraphernalia back in December of 2011.

Criminal Law News Brought To You By http://509CriminalLawyers.com

I recently had a foray with methamphetamine, and I will never do it again. The day after, I felt like total shit. The second day, I had the worst panic attack I have ever had. That entire week I could not eat without throwing up. Things have gotten somewhat more bearable as time passes. My heart rate rises very easily now. I have an almost constant migraine. It's been three weeks. Sleep is the only relief I get, minus a few minutes during the day where my body seems to say "Alright, Ash. You get to feel normal. But only for now!" I eat breakfast, and by lunch I am ravenous. My vision will momentarily blur at random points throughout the day, I have a perpetual case of heartburn, and my arms tingle at times. I find myself bartering with god to make this go away. I see spots and floaters in my field of vision, and I recently learned that .5mg of Ativan makes that go away. How much longer is this hell going to last?

THE MOON is distant from the sea,
And yet with amber hands
She leads him, docile as a boy,
Along appointed sands.

He never misses a degree; 5
Obedient to her eye,
He comes just so far toward the town,
Just so far goes away.

Oh, Signor, thine the amber hand,
And mine the distant sea,— 10
Obedient to the least command
Thine eyes impose on me.
------------------------------------------

PROUD of my broken heart since thou didst break it,
Proud of the pain I did not feel till thee,
Proud of my night since thou with moons dost slake it,
Not to partake thy passion, my humility.
-------------------------------------------

LET me not mar that perfect dream
By an auroral stain,
But so adjust my daily night
That it will come again.

-source

tripple c's and meth at the same time.
i don't know if anyone has experienced both of these drugs separately, one makes things go fast. the other makes things go slow.
so what the hell is this called?
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?????????????????????????????????????????????????
it's all nice on ice alright!

I HIDE myself within my flower,
That wearing on your breast,
You, unsuspecting, wear me too
And angels know the rest.

I hide myself within my flower,
That, fading from your vase,
You, unsuspecting, feel for me
Almost a loneliness.

Emily Dickinson

Emily Dickinson speaks for me:

DEPARTED to the judgment,
A mighty afternoon;
Great clouds like ushers leaning,
Creation looking on.

The flesh surrendered, cancelled, 5
The bodiless begun;
Two worlds, like audiences, disperse
And leave the soul alone.

----------------------------
LOOK back on time with kindly eyes,
He doubtless did his best;
How softly sinks his trembling sun
In human nature’s west!
------------------------------
I MEASURE every grief I meet
With analytic eyes;
I wonder if it weighs like mine,
Or has an easier size.

I wonder if they bore it long, 5
Or did it just begin?
I could not tell the date of mine,
It feels so old a pain.

I wonder if it hurts to live,
And if they have to try, 10
And whether, could they choose between,
They would not rather die.

I wonder if when years have piled—
Some thousands—on the cause
Of early hurt, if such a lapse 15
Could give them any pause;

Or would they go on aching still
Through centuries above,
Enlightened to a larger pain
By contrast with the love. 20

The grieved are many, I am told;
The reason deeper lies,—
Death is but one and comes but once,
And only nails the eyes.

There ’s grief of want, and grief of cold,— 25
A sort they call “despair”;
There ’s banishment from native eyes,
In sight of native air.

And though I may not guess the kind
Correctly, yet to me 30
A piercing comfort it affords
In passing Calvary,

To note the fashions of the cross,
Of those that stand alone,
Still fascinated to presume 35
That some are like my own.

-----------------------------------------
YOU left me, sweet, two legacies,—
A legacy of love
A Heavenly Father would content,
Had He the offer of;

You left me boundaries of pain 5
Capacious as the sea,
Between eternity and time,
Your consciousness and me

First off, a little introduction. I'm a long time lurker -- first time poster on BlueLight. I've used opiates, specifically Oxycodone, Morphine and Methadone, for the last 4 or so years since 2008 when I was 18. I'm 22 now and my entire adult life has been spent in addiction. I started with OxyContin 20mg ERs and used IV from the first time. After my first shot (20mg IV) I burst out laughing and asked my friends why everyone didn't do this all the time. I had found my calling in the form of a small pink pill.

From then on I used whenever I could, a few times a week. By February 2009 I was full-on hooked on usage at least once a day and reaching 80mg daily. I lived with a 4 other people who all used various amounts. My friend KW was on my level, using every day and hooked. DM was a little less than us but still used whenever he could but didn't resort to the same tactics as KW and myself. ST, GR, DB, AF, AW and SM were all friends of mine who began use after KW and I introduced them to it. Eventually the majority of us were getting sick and scoring every day -- either Oxy20, MST100 and Methadone15 -- eventually KW, DM, GR and ST moved cities and ran from their addiction and managed to stay clean to various degrees. AF, AW, DB and SM stayed in our city and continued to use. After sometime we met DW who sold Oxy20s. At first only I could score from him and so I hooked up the others and made a cut, but eventually I introduced them all to him when I was trying to detox. DW would give us huge amounts on credit and I currently owe him over $10,000 and the same with the rest of us. I have detoxed and come through withdrawal the entire way over 15 times but I always relapse because I can go to this guy at any time and get stuff on credit and so I yo-yo from clean to binging every few weeks or months.

To pay off some debt, I ended up doing a series of crimes that landed me in jail for 6 months, probation for another 9. During my stint in prison I detoxed but the day I got out I thought I deserved a treat and got an OC80 and then 4 OC20s later in the day. The next day I burgled DW and took 8 cards on Oxy20, so 80 pills. This got me hooked again, and I continued use until now, 12 months later which brings me to the present.

I'm currently part-way through the process of applying for methadone. I have been entered into the system and have to fail 3 drug screening tests to make sure I'm dependant on opiates, and after that they will put me on until I reach a blockade dosage where I won't be sick and other opiates won't have any effect. This is a last resort for me, having been unable to remain clean for longer than a month ever, except for my time in jail. I know the downsides of methadone but I see no other way out other than death which I would prefer to avoid. I get terrible anxiety around anyone whenever I'm not wrapped in that blanket of opiates and the world seems terrifying. I have a long-term girlfriend who I have been with for 18 months and she uses occasionally but I haven't let her take enough to get a habit. She is the most wonderful woman and helps me when I'm sick -- she even used to give me her own pain meds when I couldn't score so that I wouldn't be ill. She works part-time in a shitty minimum wage job so that we can afford to eat and pay our bills even with me wasting all my money on Oxy. This is one of the main reasons for my going on the program because then my money can be used for real things and not go into my veins. Another reason is so that I will be stable enough to enter a training program where I want to study Addiction Therapy and become and Drug and Alcohol worker -- I want to make a difference and help people who are where I was and put these awful years to good use.

My first screening test is this Friday and will be ongoing for the next 2 Fridays after which point I'll be fully inducted to the program, see the doctor, and start finding my dosage. I'm not sure the purpose of this blog, or whether anyone will read it, but I'll be posting regularly the next few weeks with how my progress is going and detailed descriptions of the messy life I have to lead while waiting for it and hope that I can keep the plates spinning in my life for just a few weeks more.

Thank you for reading and I'd love any feedback, advice or personal stories that relate to my situation.
Wish me luck.

-RB.

I have been snorting Ritalin for over a year now and I am starting to have pains in my throat and trouble breathing at times. Can doing this give me lung or throat cancer?

finally i did it
It is night and i wakeup @ 2am feel absolutely perfect, i drop 10mg valium coz i need to go to bed, again im going to work tomoz at day time,
all my wds from suboxone completly gone and used only 150mg MXE, for four days..
The best way do it is snort, 20mg MXE on a first day it will remove all wds symptoms and make a juice with 10-15mg in it, as soon as wds back drink a bit from the juice and they gone again on the end u get very tired of MXE and start yawning, drop 10mg valium there in its switch u off for 6-7h.
For the next 4-5 days do the same thing, u will have good while on mxe and u get clean. If u read my previous posts i done lot of mistakes b4 i found the best way
here is original post:
http://www.bluelight.ru/vb/threads/617675-Can-Anyone-Help-me-to-get-off-suboxone-and-valium-situation-is-not-that-bad

Middle post there ! Good luck !! stay clear !

I had started with my first dose of Vyvanse early this morning, at around 7:30AM. Its 7:20PM now. I have taken 5 pills, 30mg each, throughout the day. After I had already downed the 5th pill, I had the bright idea that maybe i should check out what the overdose range is. Most say 140/150 as the number of too much. Ive also seen people talking about taking in the 2-300's themselves without overdosing. I have read the symptoms, and so far I am fine. But its only been about two hour since I took the last. You should also know, Im a recovering drug addict and have experience with extacy and other uppers, so I do know how to tell real symptoms from my mind creating symptoms. But, Im also on methadone which I have been told amplifies many drugs, including this ADD medication.
What Im hoping to find out, since there isnt a clear threshold and tolerance dose, is how long before I have a good idea that Im in the clear? I know that just because X amount of hours has passed and Im fine so far, things can change. Is there any info, opinions even, about how much time till Im in the somewhat safe zone?
I asked Yahoo Answers after 1 hour and got an uninformed opinion by someone who has taken their ADD meds as prescribed. They told me I should be fine, and since another hour has passed I agree.
But this is still an important question, across the board, for any legal or illegal drug...How much time needs to pass? The half life of the drug? Full duration?
Thanks for any help& ideas!

I just needed to say that to someone. I was 15 days clean today and I have had a bit of a relapse. I will write more about it later but right now I just needed to say what is in the title of this blog. I have people in my life who have been supporting me in my recovery and I just do not have the courage right now to say it except here in anonymity. It almost seems like a vane statement now that I look at it. Of course we are all flawed and make mistakes nobody is perfect why should I of all people be any different. I guess I just felt like I was doing so well and am feeling like I let a lot of people down. There are lots of mixed emotions going through my head right now and I can not begin to piece it together so I will just share a few things I wrote recently. Since I have gotten this bug to take thoughts from my head and put them in words. I do not think I would call it poetry at least not 'good' poetry. Even re-reading it now it feels somewhat forced and contrived. But the first one in particular is relevant to my current mood since I just typed it out after getting high so I will share it anyways;

It is my pain, my emptyness
My undying sadness
I try to abstain, this temptress
My persisting sickness
But my life's bane, is endless

This is just something I wrote the other day while I was sober.

Sometimes the darkness can come in disguise
It makes us sweet promises but all of them lies
I lie awake at night and think of the weight on us all
I wonder how do we carry it and not trip and fall
All the unanswerable questions that plague all our minds
No chance to contemplate them we dont have the time
Existing just a brief moment then alone we all die
While a cold and cruel universe just passes us by
Our hubristic nature is the curse we all share
Imagining the cosmos a kingdom where we are the heir
But really we are just children the vastness has birthed
Just dust from the stars then returned to the earth
So really our essence our soul is much older
Continually reused and recycled over and over
I think the answers are stored there deep in our mind
But before we remember we are defeated by time

Doctors. Drug dealers. Lawyers. Significant others. Friends. Family. Strangers, even. They'll all let you down. They'll suck everything they can from you and promise things in order to keep stringing you along and sucking you dry... Then when it's time to deliver, poof, nothing. So I'm going to change they way I deal with the world around me. Everyone, by default, is a no good fucking selfish liar until proven otherwise. That's my new motto. I'm not a liar. I don't lie to people. I'm probably honest to a fault. I'm fucking generous to people. I'm nice to them. I give them shit. Everything I fucking say I'm going to do, I do. This sounds kind of schizo, but whatever, I've found it to be true. I've trusted people and they've hurt me. And it keeps happening, over and over again. I suppose some people haven't hurt me on purpose. I guess it's just hurtful when you're so insignificant to someone that they don't give a shit about promises they've made to you. Fuck it. Fuck you, fuck them, fuck me, fuck everyone.

It's every man for themselves, so be it.

I suffer from ADHD, Ive been on Adderall for 4 years and every year my doctor increases my dosage, because it becomes obvious toward the later part of that year my actions are reverting back to that chaotic life. I'm at 80mg instant release and I've been on vivance, concerta, rittlin, and stratera, that last one made me real sick..... I showed instant improvement with adderall, so that was a keeper, however, I didn't know what I was in for.
I've been real good with my life up until this past year. I've noticed an odd smell coming from what I think is my pores and it's only during the 6-8 hours I'm on the medication, well, a couple hours after as well, which is why I think the smell is related to the increase of medication. The smell resembles a little like wet dog and a little like fart (bad egg). I've been through 3 jobs already this year because of my paranoia of smelling bad at work and I can only use so many colognes. Before you think I'm paranoid as a result of the medication (which was my first thought) I began to closely watch for faces , because most people just won't tell you you smell bad, but sure enough, they were there, followed by some avoiding behavior.
Could somebody tell me why I may be experiencing this, I'd like to keep things going they way they were and if anybody knows someone with ADHD, it's almost impossible to change something that works productively for them.

I got my first oxy prescription a little while ago - really helped with my pain, plus a great buzz. Went to get a repeat today and the doc says he can't do a repeat without an authority. He says I will need to go see an orthopaedic surgeon and he can't guarantee that this surgeon character will be sympathetic to my needs. He is implying, I think, that the specialist will advocate spinal surgery for a bullshit sciatic nerve, instead of just giving me painkillers that help me manage the pain perfectly well. Apart from the fact that I enjoy the oxy and it works well for me, I don't want people messing around with my spinal cord and the nerves around it. Kind of a phobia of mine.
And I'm pissed off. If my doc couldn't give me a repeat, what the hell was the point of teasing me with one script! Grrr! Back to Tramadol

(forward:i used to be smart. one day, when i go to college to be a writer i'll be able to do this story justice. but for now, i'll just do meth and write it all as quickly and sloppily as possible without editing any of it. because i need to tell someone. it's almost impossible to follow, but if you can get the gist of it, it's pretty cool i think all i ask as that you don't judge my writing ability by this. this is not how i write. also, is this incriminating? please let me know if it is)just thinking about writing this made me tired.
i might die in the process, ya know? According to the super secret dextroverse forums DXM and meth combined can cause lot's of heart complications. oh well.i'm sick. when i started shooting meth, chest pain was a positive sign. meant that i was high. in the case of needles, the closer you are to death, the closer you are to nirvana. with heroin, it's blue lips, white splotches in the face, getting slapped by your friends.

speaking of shooting up.
white sands. new mexico. rehab. the surreal twilit desert. a city on a hill.
i met a girl. she was beautiful and she was damaged and just like me she was out of her element.
we were young, hip, attractive, intelligent drug users. i was in a men's rehab, she was in a women's rehab. both of us lived with middle aged-elderly drug addicts. uneducated. in sorry shape. we saw each other and it was a no brainer.

we started college, so we had free reign over our time. the rehab directors didn't know enough about college to regulate us. while everyone else was in group or in an a.a. meeting we were having sex in the designated smoking "gazebos" and in the desert.
she was above me. i had never met anyone cooler than me, so i was in awe. her music was better, her drugs addiction was much more severe, and her... oh god. i tried. i had shot up twice in my life. ketamine once, and a weak shot of meth in jail. i tried to pretend to be a junkie and i tried to understand her but i didn't. so i lied. and she knew. and she didn't trust me. and our relationship became depraved before too long. mostly because i didn't understand. if i had understood the mentality of a sober junkie i might have been able to win her love... but we moved out of rehab and in to an apartment and two weeks later she bounced back to albuquerque, back to heroin, and i relapsed and was committed to a mental hospital in roswell. she came back though. i broke out of the mental hospital and through a bizarre chain of events ended up selling my soul to jesus for a bus ticket back to my desert home where she was waiting. of course, two days later she was gone. she had just come to get her check. so i'm drinking. dxm and alcohol and i start talking to my neighbor who i thought was a good sober a.a. person. his girl had just left him too. we started talking. about suicide, i fed him coricidon, and before we knew it we were headed toward roswell to pick up his girlfriend from her mom's (the dope dealers) house. i took with me all my savings. i bought threehundred dollars worth of fire. and in a gas station parking lot i did my first real shot of meth. it drew back blue. sixty units. my friend later said he didn't know what he was thinking. he hit me. i coughed and saw my soul depart from my mouth, the world rushed and we undertook a perilous adventure. three guys doing massive shots in a cadilac with the dope dealers daughter (who smoked a bunch but had no idea we were doing shots)trying to leave roswell. after much drama we got the daughter from her mom's house, for some reason we picked up a ceiling fan, then we went to see her grandparents and her kid (by we i mean my friend and her, me and the driver dude stayed in the car and did more shots) then we had to get my property from the mental hospital. we sat around for about an hour before we became paranoid and decided to leave. we then visited the grave of my friends childhood friend who had recently been shot in a drug deal gone bad. then we drove through the mountains, high as fuck, shooting a blue pistol out the window. a cop flashed his lights, and i put my syringe in my ass cheeks, but he turned around. we got back to my desert town. i had about two hundred dollars worth of FIRE and probation the next morning. so i went all night without touching it(i couldn't hit myself anyways). my other neighbors a husband and wife in sobriety trying to get their kids back were giving me a ride. i pulled the husband off to the side, and told him there was something in my medicine cabinate and that if i went to jail to take it and get rid of it. i went to probation. i waited. the longest stretch of time i've ever experienced. my p.o. walks out in to the waiting room with a briefcase. he has to go. i'm saved. i call my friends. they pick me up. i'm walking back to my apartment when my neighbor pulls me to the side. "i did some of your shit". oh you idiot. you moron. why would you do that with so much at risk? why would you make me feel so bad? you relapsed on my dope and you're gonna lose your kids!! oh hey, since i'm not going to jail i'm gonna do some more dope. can you hit me? we did shots. we did 200 dollars worth of fire in a day. his wife found out. they argued. i stared out the peephole of my door for about twelve hours. i had twenty dollars left. i was in hell.

but of course! a solution. i went to my other neighbor. asked him if he could get heroin. i had never done heroin, but a girl had just left me for heroin, and heroin sounds like a great way to end my misery.

i end up waiting all day, in hell. throwing water on random white spots, seeing if they break down.

but i get my heroin.
and it was glorious. my friend and his friend both of them blue in the lips and white in the face came over. they hit me. told me to stand up and hold on. sat a cigarette on the counter, hit me. gave me my first shot of heroin. and ran.



ha. what meth comedown?

so i discover i.v. drugs, i start pawning shit, i have no money, and i'm in jail within two weeks.
three months i sit there. they let me out on the condition that i go back to rehab.
i'm in rehab a week. i'm working for the carnival getting high in secret, wanting to do a shot.
a diabetic man, we'll call him jeff is in rehab with me. i have a 20 of mephedrone. it's 1am and i'm on cough medicine.
sitting in the dark of the kitchen jeff walks in, just the man i wanted to see.
i cock my eyebrow and say "so, how long you been sober" next thing you know we're shooting up bath salt (i'm trying anyways, this is the beginning of my learning to shoot myself up saga) and next thing you know we're scoring meth from some homeless guy in the desert and next thing you know we're driving to clovis, i'm on the run, with my carnival money and old boy is gonna teach me to sell dope. his cousin is the dope dealer. so we get an eight ball, and instead of selling it, end up doing it. first with these two older women, then we start moving around, we spend the night at the connects house (in the tool shed anyways) and i become convinced we're in this adult carnival peepshow. i think i'm about to have sex with the dope dealers wife and he almost beats me up. i haven't slept in like 4 days, and am doing shots bigger than ever. then we go with these two gay guys and this redhead who is obsessed with jesus. she tried to have sex with me, but i was psychotic and had been up for days and didn't know what was going on. the next day, i'm borrowing money from my family, saying i'm being held hostage by drug dealers, and on the way to get the moneygram i become convinced that my friend jeff turned me in and the cops are coming and that the jesus girl was a part of the carnival and ashamed and that i was saving her and that the girl from rehab was in the ceiling and that we were about to do all my dope together and i went in to this straight up psychotic episode and finally. sleep. i woke up the next morning on a matress in a toolshed next to a dog and an old guy. i have a pocketful of dope and i get everyone high. i spend the next month running errands and having adventures and doing dope and babysitting for dope and on the run at an all time low.... i meet this beautiful heroin/speed junkie named leslie and she breaks down "the game" and spends the next month trying to teach me to hit myself. long story short, jeff and i get arrested selling dope to this deaf prostitute. luckily they didn't actually catch us selling dope, but got us for warrants instead. i'm in jail again. i get out. go on a mission for a shot. i had never successfully hit myself, but the first time outta jail i did it no problem. after a week or two homeless, bouncin' around, i decide to head back home. texas. to my family.

so i'm at the gr