DISCLAIMER READ BEFORE READING BELOW: I want responses from people who are interested in my story and can offer advice to me, as I am so torn at this point.
My name is hutch. I am a college sophomore aged 19 and until oct 2013 I did not know what a benzodiazepine drug was. I was offered my first xanax bar (2mg) from a friend. Upon googling, I discovered how addictive and dangerous they are. That night, I took 1mg (half of that bar) and felt nothing. The next day I took a full one and discovered what benzodiazepines were. For the next 3 months I was consistently on and off of xanax as long as my supplier could supply, and I became the go to guy at my school for bars. I was selling hundreds. No idea how much I was taking. No idea how many I was selling. I took them, forgot about it, and took more.
I was arrested for trafficking opiates (different unrelated story) in may 2014 before high school graduation. I continued to take xanax whenever I could (scarcely at this point just for fun). Come october 2014, I was off to college for my freshman year and discovered an on campus psychiatrist who I lied to to obtain 3 months worth of klonopin, of which I have no idea how many I took and how may I sold. I was cut off after 3 months from the doc.
The december of 2014 I was living with the friend who originally offered me a xanax bar who was now interested in etizolam, of which I purchased many pills for personal use during that month I was living with him.
That december, on the 23rd, I experienced something I had never felt before upon taking a .2g dab of wax. My world dissolved around me, replaced with demons in my head who told me xanax is the devil and I am killing myself. I was tripping. Hard. Was this my first panic attack? Maybe, maybe not. All I know is that whenever I smoke weed the thoughts re-enter my head...
From this point on I have had anxiety about xanax ruining my life.
THIS POST IS TO BE CONTINUED AS I CURRENTLY ON XANAX AND EXTREMELY TIRED AND CANNOT FINISH. REPLY IF YOU CAN AT THIS POINT.
My name is hutch. I am a college sophomore aged 19 and until oct 2013 I did not know what a benzodiazepine drug was. I was offered my first xanax bar (2mg) from a friend. Upon googling, I discovered how addictive and dangerous they are. That night, I took 1mg (half of that bar) and felt nothing. The next day I took a full one and discovered what benzodiazepines were. For the next 3 months I was consistently on and off of xanax as long as my supplier could supply, and I became the go to guy at my school for bars. I was selling hundreds. No idea how much I was taking. No idea how many I was selling. I took them, forgot about it, and took more.
I was arrested for trafficking opiates (different unrelated story) in may 2014 before high school graduation. I continued to take xanax whenever I could (scarcely at this point just for fun). Come october 2014, I was off to college for my freshman year and discovered an on campus psychiatrist who I lied to to obtain 3 months worth of klonopin, of which I have no idea how many I took and how may I sold. I was cut off after 3 months from the doc.
The december of 2014 I was living with the friend who originally offered me a xanax bar who was now interested in etizolam, of which I purchased many pills for personal use during that month I was living with him.
That december, on the 23rd, I experienced something I had never felt before upon taking a .2g dab of wax. My world dissolved around me, replaced with demons in my head who told me xanax is the devil and I am killing myself. I was tripping. Hard. Was this my first panic attack? Maybe, maybe not. All I know is that whenever I smoke weed the thoughts re-enter my head...
From this point on I have had anxiety about xanax ruining my life.
THIS POST IS TO BE CONTINUED AS I CURRENTLY ON XANAX AND EXTREMELY TIRED AND CANNOT FINISH. REPLY IF YOU CAN AT THIS POINT.