ChinaGroove
Bluelighter
First I want to thank the BL crew for giving a space to share these stories. Reading them is informative. And for me personally being able to share my account on here is, for lack of a better term, "therapeutic". Especally considering there aren't a ton of people around me that I can share with that will understand and not just label me as "that guy that goes to the methadone clinic". So again, this space is very appreciated and if all our stories can deter someone from taking that first hit or nudge them to make that change then all the better.
So about myself. I was pretty introverted when I was a little kid. Somehow I would end up hanging out with the "bad" kids in middle school. The kids who were smoking cigarettes and skipping school and trying weed and alcohol at a young age. All that juvenile delinquent stuff. I smoked my first ciggarette at 12. That thrill of smoking when I shouldn't be and could get in trouble if caught was addicting in itself. I didn't realize it but it seemed to fill this void in me and gave me this weird sense of purpose and identity.
So eventually I tried weed at 13, got drunk at 16(for some reason I was nervous about alcohol more than other drugs and don't drink to this day and don't miss it) and eventually tried Shrooms, Beans, Xanax, Coke and the occasional Vicodin. By the time I was 18 and out of high school I was getting fucked up every night. I loved drinking at this time and loved either drinking on xans or buying an 8 ball and alot of times ended up bringing different girls home. Yeah my parents were pretty lax but staying out all night and bringing girls home and fucking them right down the hall from them and my younger sister... yeah they were not too happy with me.
Now all this excess is important to remember as I get into the darker parts of my life.
So yeah, the above was my life until I was about 23. By then I had moved out of my parents house. I had tried Vicodin in my teens and Oxys and Roxys and they were "just more drugs"when I was younger. But sometime around that age of 23, I found Roxys made everything so enjoyable. Going to work. Sitting at home while eveeyone else was out at the bar. The euphoria was amazing. I was content. Of course this caused me to isolate myself from my friends as time went on. But I didn't care. Payday became "buy as many blues as I can for the week" day. I was still functionable though. I would never have enough to last a whole week but I wasn't in withdrawl without. Well maybe a little bit mentally but it wasn't anything I couldn't tough out. Boy would that change.
One day my dealer who was also a good friend wasn't able to get Blues. All he had were these things called "Dilaudid" I was disappointed but they were still Opioids so I was like "sure". But my good "friend" advised me that snorting them would be a waste. I already knewwhere he was going and I was like "Hell no. Never". But for some reason, probably because opiods were the only thing to fill this void in me, I made a decision that would change my life forever and start a sick nightmare.
I watched my friend prepare the shot. He mixed up the water soluble Dilaudid in water, crushed up in a spoon. He threw in the cotton and drew it up. Then turned to me. I was like "holy shit i'm really doing this". He told me to flex as he put the tourniquet around my arm. He then basically told me how to find a vein and how I would know when I was in. He carefully pushed the fresh point in without a hitch. Pulled back on the plunger and my blood filled the barrel. He then slowly pushed the plunger back down with zero resistance. In one seemingly quick movement the point was out, the quet was off and I sat there not sure what to expect. Not sure what I was waiting f...
OH MAN...It was the most beautiful thing I had ever felt IN MY FUCKING LIFE. My whole body was buzzing. My mind filled with an ungodly amount of euphoria. THIS. THIS WAS WHAT I HAD BEEN SEARCHING FOR. All the excess. All the other drugs. All the meaningless shallow sex. It all paled in comparison.
From that moment on injection wasn't my preferred roa. It WAS my roa. It was another addiction in itself.
As time went on, my use increased. I noticed the small depression I endured without my Roxys was now accompanied with physical symptoms without my Dilaudid to inject. Those couple days without, soon were no longer an option. I had to have my fix. Of course if Dilaudid weren't available, I would inject Roxys despite the absence of a rush. I would eventually stumble upon Opanas, the red 10 mg ir. Those were amazing. The rush of Dilaudid and the high of a Roxy. And of course, the same "friend" that introduced me to Dilaudid went up to visit "family" up in West Maryland. He called me when he returned and said he had a "surprise". Yup. It was Heroin. This cocaine white powder he said it was called "China White". That was a binge. He gave me a gram plus gave me my first shot. Yeah anytime the CW came around I was ecstatic as the high was above and beyond any Opioid pill I had tried and the rush, while not on the level of Dilaudid, was nice. It was more of a "high rush" than a "rush" if that makes any sense at all.
So as my use got worse and worse, I had to fund my habit. I spent nearly my entire paycheck on it. I had to move back in with my parents because I couldn't pay rent anymore. Thank god they were there and loved me enough to put up with my shit before eventually helping get help. But at the moment I was reduced to doing whatever I had to do. Crime which I won't get into the specifics of. Begging. Pawning all my stuff and alot of my loved ones stuff too. I did everything but sold my body. I'm sure that would have came with time too. I was desperate not just for that high/rush but above all to not be sick. Everytime I had to go without was awful. I was rapidly losing my ability to function in society and hold down my job.
So I finally hit what was for me, my "bottom". I was a mess. I was that junkie that everyone looks at one time and can see it. So there I was waiting for my main guy at the time. He was a piece of shit that taxed whenever he could but he reliable and was right there. When your sick you need your fix now. Not in an hour. Not in a minute. NOW. But this particular time I was waiting and waiting and after ten hours or so he decides then to tell me it would cost x amount more than usual. Furious I just said "Okay" with no intention of paying that. Long story short I give him the USUAL amount it costs. He didn't like that and wanted to handle. I just wanted to not be sick. So with all my dopesick sick of being sick rage I beat the fucking brakes off this guy. Beat him with one fist while holding my fix in my other hand. Then ran, not scared of him but of police. I ran to the nearest gas station and fixed in a small, shitty bathroom.
I made my way home and my parents were both up waiting for me. Apparently this guy "called my parents". I don't know what he thought that would accomplish but It actually helped me. My dad said I either get help or get out and he was 1000 percent serious. So together we found a doctor that could help with opioid dependence. My parents helped me pay for the initial first time fee and I was set up with a prescription for Buprenorphine generic. He wrote me the script right there because he could see I was in severe withdrawl and all my opioid use had been short acting.
I actually was quite improved. Of course I would sell my subs at times and was still chasing a high to an extent. I would run through my script and be sick and be back injecting. After going through this routine I realized I was falling back where I was. It was at this time I decided to look into Methadone. I found a clinic close by. I had to show up every day even on Sundays. It was tough but I knew I was about out of options so I had to commit. I did find the Methadone held me way better than the Subs did and that combined with the structure of having to commit to showing up every day really helped me turn a corner.
So here I am after almost four years writing this. Other than one minor set back which resulted in a nasty precipitated withdrawl, I have been stable and have a life again. And as much as I would like to wrap this story with a nice happy "the end" I understand every day is a new day with new struggles and new highs and lows. But thanks to some great people I met through my counselor, I feel equipped to deal with all that life throws at me going forward.
So about myself. I was pretty introverted when I was a little kid. Somehow I would end up hanging out with the "bad" kids in middle school. The kids who were smoking cigarettes and skipping school and trying weed and alcohol at a young age. All that juvenile delinquent stuff. I smoked my first ciggarette at 12. That thrill of smoking when I shouldn't be and could get in trouble if caught was addicting in itself. I didn't realize it but it seemed to fill this void in me and gave me this weird sense of purpose and identity.
So eventually I tried weed at 13, got drunk at 16(for some reason I was nervous about alcohol more than other drugs and don't drink to this day and don't miss it) and eventually tried Shrooms, Beans, Xanax, Coke and the occasional Vicodin. By the time I was 18 and out of high school I was getting fucked up every night. I loved drinking at this time and loved either drinking on xans or buying an 8 ball and alot of times ended up bringing different girls home. Yeah my parents were pretty lax but staying out all night and bringing girls home and fucking them right down the hall from them and my younger sister... yeah they were not too happy with me.
Now all this excess is important to remember as I get into the darker parts of my life.
So yeah, the above was my life until I was about 23. By then I had moved out of my parents house. I had tried Vicodin in my teens and Oxys and Roxys and they were "just more drugs"when I was younger. But sometime around that age of 23, I found Roxys made everything so enjoyable. Going to work. Sitting at home while eveeyone else was out at the bar. The euphoria was amazing. I was content. Of course this caused me to isolate myself from my friends as time went on. But I didn't care. Payday became "buy as many blues as I can for the week" day. I was still functionable though. I would never have enough to last a whole week but I wasn't in withdrawl without. Well maybe a little bit mentally but it wasn't anything I couldn't tough out. Boy would that change.
One day my dealer who was also a good friend wasn't able to get Blues. All he had were these things called "Dilaudid" I was disappointed but they were still Opioids so I was like "sure". But my good "friend" advised me that snorting them would be a waste. I already knewwhere he was going and I was like "Hell no. Never". But for some reason, probably because opiods were the only thing to fill this void in me, I made a decision that would change my life forever and start a sick nightmare.
I watched my friend prepare the shot. He mixed up the water soluble Dilaudid in water, crushed up in a spoon. He threw in the cotton and drew it up. Then turned to me. I was like "holy shit i'm really doing this". He told me to flex as he put the tourniquet around my arm. He then basically told me how to find a vein and how I would know when I was in. He carefully pushed the fresh point in without a hitch. Pulled back on the plunger and my blood filled the barrel. He then slowly pushed the plunger back down with zero resistance. In one seemingly quick movement the point was out, the quet was off and I sat there not sure what to expect. Not sure what I was waiting f...
OH MAN...It was the most beautiful thing I had ever felt IN MY FUCKING LIFE. My whole body was buzzing. My mind filled with an ungodly amount of euphoria. THIS. THIS WAS WHAT I HAD BEEN SEARCHING FOR. All the excess. All the other drugs. All the meaningless shallow sex. It all paled in comparison.
From that moment on injection wasn't my preferred roa. It WAS my roa. It was another addiction in itself.
As time went on, my use increased. I noticed the small depression I endured without my Roxys was now accompanied with physical symptoms without my Dilaudid to inject. Those couple days without, soon were no longer an option. I had to have my fix. Of course if Dilaudid weren't available, I would inject Roxys despite the absence of a rush. I would eventually stumble upon Opanas, the red 10 mg ir. Those were amazing. The rush of Dilaudid and the high of a Roxy. And of course, the same "friend" that introduced me to Dilaudid went up to visit "family" up in West Maryland. He called me when he returned and said he had a "surprise". Yup. It was Heroin. This cocaine white powder he said it was called "China White". That was a binge. He gave me a gram plus gave me my first shot. Yeah anytime the CW came around I was ecstatic as the high was above and beyond any Opioid pill I had tried and the rush, while not on the level of Dilaudid, was nice. It was more of a "high rush" than a "rush" if that makes any sense at all.
So as my use got worse and worse, I had to fund my habit. I spent nearly my entire paycheck on it. I had to move back in with my parents because I couldn't pay rent anymore. Thank god they were there and loved me enough to put up with my shit before eventually helping get help. But at the moment I was reduced to doing whatever I had to do. Crime which I won't get into the specifics of. Begging. Pawning all my stuff and alot of my loved ones stuff too. I did everything but sold my body. I'm sure that would have came with time too. I was desperate not just for that high/rush but above all to not be sick. Everytime I had to go without was awful. I was rapidly losing my ability to function in society and hold down my job.
So I finally hit what was for me, my "bottom". I was a mess. I was that junkie that everyone looks at one time and can see it. So there I was waiting for my main guy at the time. He was a piece of shit that taxed whenever he could but he reliable and was right there. When your sick you need your fix now. Not in an hour. Not in a minute. NOW. But this particular time I was waiting and waiting and after ten hours or so he decides then to tell me it would cost x amount more than usual. Furious I just said "Okay" with no intention of paying that. Long story short I give him the USUAL amount it costs. He didn't like that and wanted to handle. I just wanted to not be sick. So with all my dopesick sick of being sick rage I beat the fucking brakes off this guy. Beat him with one fist while holding my fix in my other hand. Then ran, not scared of him but of police. I ran to the nearest gas station and fixed in a small, shitty bathroom.
I made my way home and my parents were both up waiting for me. Apparently this guy "called my parents". I don't know what he thought that would accomplish but It actually helped me. My dad said I either get help or get out and he was 1000 percent serious. So together we found a doctor that could help with opioid dependence. My parents helped me pay for the initial first time fee and I was set up with a prescription for Buprenorphine generic. He wrote me the script right there because he could see I was in severe withdrawl and all my opioid use had been short acting.
I actually was quite improved. Of course I would sell my subs at times and was still chasing a high to an extent. I would run through my script and be sick and be back injecting. After going through this routine I realized I was falling back where I was. It was at this time I decided to look into Methadone. I found a clinic close by. I had to show up every day even on Sundays. It was tough but I knew I was about out of options so I had to commit. I did find the Methadone held me way better than the Subs did and that combined with the structure of having to commit to showing up every day really helped me turn a corner.
So here I am after almost four years writing this. Other than one minor set back which resulted in a nasty precipitated withdrawl, I have been stable and have a life again. And as much as I would like to wrap this story with a nice happy "the end" I understand every day is a new day with new struggles and new highs and lows. But thanks to some great people I met through my counselor, I feel equipped to deal with all that life throws at me going forward.