JasperTheReckless
Bluelighter
- Joined
- Nov 1, 2011
- Messages
- 339
Not sure if this should go in trip reports or the dark side, so i'll post it homeless.
I was fifteen.
I was heavy into my first Dextromethorphan binge. Back when we knew we were invincible and could take anything.
We sought maximum intoxication so we used the heavy hitter, Delsym. We had a great time the first few weeks, we would dose twice, three times a week, doing about 500mg each. We found it was a magnificent combo with weed, and begin to use more frequently.
I didn't notice my fuck up until it was far too late. DXM builds up in you, and after a while, you will stay high for a few, maybe several days in the comedown stage. This is on it's own. There are severe contraindication warnings for DXM and Zoloft (SSRI) as well as DXM and a pain medication called Tramadol, which I had recently acquired a ton of. But lastly, there were contraindications between Zoloft and Tramadol. Crushed in the center, with the walls falling in, was me.
I had been in a fight with my parents and refused to take my meds recently. I was off Zoloft for a week when the binge began. I didn't know the binge began really, I had never fallen in one before, and didn't know the signs. I was too young to see how I treated people while fucked up and how dangerous my thinking had become. I got over the shit with my parents and began taking my meds again, and unfortunately I began my Zoloft in the few days before we broke into dosing daily. I though DXM was a great anti-depressant, because it literally made me happy. The euphoria made me able to cope with all the stresses of life.
We came across writings of the plateaus and decided to go for a fourth plateau trip and simply assumed, more. More, more more. We would dose two five ounce Delsym's (1,776mg) each and put on music, and fuck around on the trampoline, and on the computer all night. We did it in a group at first. But only two of us really stuck with it. We began doing this everyday, because school hadn't started yet, and we could sleep over almost every day, and could steal syrup easy enough anyway.
When i'm high I like to read trip reports on Erowid. I read about the drug i'm on, and try to imagine how other peoples trips felt and went. About a week into the binge, I came across a report of someone having a severe reaction to zoloft and DXM. And somewhere, in the depths of my mind I had a flicker of recognition for some of the words used.
Halloween came around and we went to one house. Too high to walk. Me and my syrup partner spent the night at another friend's house and got high with him. Night was great, and we had fun despite. But early that morning, my friend and I were wide awake, because I was panicking, I felt, I believed, I knew that if I closed my eyes my heart would stop beating. It seemed like fact.
It was the first gift of psychosis.
We got the second warning sign an hour later. After the panic subsided, we went to wake tony, because we had done three bottles each we were still fucked up, so, so, so dexxed out. We woke him and and he wasn't high anymore.
Just wasn't
What
?
?
We decided to not get high today, because we hadn't even come down from last night. By noon, our friend had cleaned up and all that. But we were still sky high. Third plateau was in the basement, and we were somewhere between the roof and the sky. The high felt different. That afternoon, walking home, we had our first breakdown. We lost it. It was sinking in that something was wrong. We hadn't come down at all, and to be honest, were higher than that morning. We dropped our backpacks on the sidewalk and cried. My friend thought we might be OD'ing, and was scared. But I was mortified, because I knew OD meant seizure, blackout, stroke, but I saw the potential to be so much scarier, I couldn't even make sound. I thought I had finally done it, and gotten brain damage, and a hell of a job at that. To complicate things, I had ruined a friend's life as well. I wanted to throw up, and I fell down. I told my friend I'm calling our parents, and he said not to, he didn't want to get in trouble. I told him that this could be serious, and explained what I thought. I told him I had to, and cried again, I apologized, again and again. I called his mom and asked her to pick us up and take us to my house.
We were three blocks from the friend's house we spent the night at.
We had left the house for mine, four hours earlier.
We cried the whole time, explaining to our parents what we think happened. My friend had a nervous breakdown and was prescribed xanax to help cope in the weeks after. He didn't come back to baseline for nearly 8 days. He said he felt above second, maybe third plateau until day six.
*three weeks earlier*
I had found my dad's Tramadol, which he never bothered to take. I always used that to justify stealing them. 50mg Tram, 180count. We took five or six at a time, and withing a single week were up to ten a dose. Found out that a couple on Delsym makes it warmer and friendlier.
Chink in the gears, a broken cog, little warning signs in the far back of my mind this whole time, but I can't make out why, I can't remember what it is I need to connect to understand. Don't do what?
I had been faithfully taking my Zoloft to please my parents. The Euphoria and empathy granted by the syrup made me want to be the perfect son.
*Original timeline resume*
It's now six days since the last dose, and I am still above a third plateau. Doing the math and the recall, I was stuck in the lower echelons of sigma. Trapped, and not moving anywhere but up. Lots people think hey, I wish I could just stay high, it'd make life so easy. Don't wish that, it's a force, it's one that just toys with you. We take doses that we feel comfortable with, because the drug will always win in a tug of war on your body and mind if left unchecked. My mom's friend, tells her, after some consultation with her boyfriend, who was a pharmacist, she recommended stopping the Zoloft until I can see a doctor.
Click, a gear clicks into place.
She also told them I should remain awake for as long as possible, because if it was how it seemed, I might be in deep this time.
The doctor said I should attempt to remain awake as much as possible, sleeping only when it's agonizing, because the something in my checkup suggested that one of these times I may suddenly not wake up.
What the fuck? Here I am, higher than i've ever been in my life, approaching the 500+ hour mark of being above a third plateau, and I have to accept that I might die in my sleep all of a fucking sudden?
No body I tell believes me that i'm still high, they say i'm trying to make things worse by pretending. The only friend who would understand, abandoned me. He didn't stand up for me, and I never forgot that. I'm so scared. I cry alot at night, because i'm too scared to try to sleep.
My dog cries when I do. I think she understands when I hurt.
a week later I am removed from my high school and placed in the psych ward at a nearby hospital. I can't hold a conversation because every letter of each word I think or read is burned into my field of vision in lazers seemingly, blinding me and startling me. Such vivid OEV's and even more alarmingly intense CEV's. I am still climbing, higher. I have accepted that I have severe brain damage, because it's the only think that I could imagine would be this bad. But I got something different. In retrospect, I got the far less severe punishment for my actions.
When the brain has too much serotonin, a condition can arise, called, Serotonin Syndrome.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Serotonin_syndrome
It's now two weeks since the last dose and I'm higher than I was at the +12 hour mark after the dose on halloween night.
I'm in the Acute care part of the inpatient psych ward. I am reacting badly to every medication I am put on, and become violent on some.
I was physically restrained for the first time this visit, for throwing chairs and swearing at staff. I never really found out why I became angry to begin with.
A week goes by and i'm getting worse. I am now getting as needed Thorazine and Haldol shots, along with Ativan IM four times a day. I was prescribed 2mg Klonopin in the morning, and 2mg at night, and a 1mg as needed dose was allowed. I am on 1200mg daily of Seroquel, half in the morning, half at night. I take my night dose and hear voices, I take my morning dose and hallucinate in my peripherals, it feels strikingly similar to Diphenhydramine. I sleep alot. I am slurring my words and get confused extremely easily, I would literally forget to eat and drink.
I give up hope. Three weeks since the last dose and I'm just as fucked up. I am still drowning in the darkness of Plateau Sigma, with a triple attack of Serotonin Sydrome. I am beyond destroyed, My life is ruined. Every minute feels like an hour, and I can't even complete my own thoughts inside my own head. Can you comprehend how terrifying it is to not be able to talk to even yourself? So lonely, so scary in raw mindspace. I can't even write down my feelings in groups.
I am sent to residential treatment. A locked psych ward for adolescents in Wisconsin. It's six weeks since the last dose. I am still in sigma. I have reached a plateau in intensity in the past weeks, but maybe i'm just too lost to tell. I black out intermittently. I spend a week in a rented house with family before the spot opens in the residential. I steal my meds from my parents, five, ten klonopin here, four ambien there. I black out for hours a day. I know that when you go to a new place, they re-order meds, so even if I use them all I won't run out at the place. The addict functions while the human dies. I fall over alot, and my shins are all bruised along with my arms from stumbling and falling. I reach the Residential and reach the glass floor of Sigma.
A week later I crack through to Third plateau, and remained trapped at the peak of third plateau for a month more.
I am moved to a residential facility out in nowhere wisconsin and remain there for ninety days. During this time I am switched from Seroquel to gabapentin, and my Klonopin is discontinued. At the forty five day mark I was down to mid to lower second plateau.
By Graduation time I was Baseline.
This is perhaps the worst experience of my lifetime, rivaled only by my 25i overdose.
We were doing daily doses of 1,500mg+ with no thought to the dangers it posed. For two weeks, fourth plateau worthy doses daily.
I was never prescribed Zoloft since.
I never took Tramadol again.
I fell into many more DXM binges however.
I never came 100% back. Something was ruined in me, I was broken, crushed by the reality that I am not indestructible. I lost my heart, my fight. DXM is no longer euphoric since.
This happened in 2009. I still feel wrong inside sometimes. My depression took a dive because of this event, I began thinking about suicide seriously for the first time in the months after this experience. The next year I took a whole bottle of ambien one night after my mom told me my dad didn't love me, in a fight. The day before, My mom had told me i'll end up just like my biological dad. He died from a heroin OD when I was two, and I live with my adoptive parents.
DXM is possible the darkest substance I have consumed. It tells you you are happy while it feeds on your mind. You break free and are lost in hell while you piece together your life.
Thanks for reading. Hope you liked it. Ask any questions and I'll answer best I can.
-Chris
Tagged by Xorkoth
substancecode_dxm
substancecode_dissociatives
substancecode_tramadol
substancecode_opiates
substancecode_zoloft
substancecode_sertraline
substancecode_antidepressants
substancecode_ssris
substancecode_pharms
_combo_
explevel_experienced
exptype_negative
exptype_healthissues
exptype_bodyload
exptype_difficult
exptype_disaster
exptype_addiction
exptype_overdose
roacode_oral
I was fifteen.
I was heavy into my first Dextromethorphan binge. Back when we knew we were invincible and could take anything.
We sought maximum intoxication so we used the heavy hitter, Delsym. We had a great time the first few weeks, we would dose twice, three times a week, doing about 500mg each. We found it was a magnificent combo with weed, and begin to use more frequently.
I didn't notice my fuck up until it was far too late. DXM builds up in you, and after a while, you will stay high for a few, maybe several days in the comedown stage. This is on it's own. There are severe contraindication warnings for DXM and Zoloft (SSRI) as well as DXM and a pain medication called Tramadol, which I had recently acquired a ton of. But lastly, there were contraindications between Zoloft and Tramadol. Crushed in the center, with the walls falling in, was me.
I had been in a fight with my parents and refused to take my meds recently. I was off Zoloft for a week when the binge began. I didn't know the binge began really, I had never fallen in one before, and didn't know the signs. I was too young to see how I treated people while fucked up and how dangerous my thinking had become. I got over the shit with my parents and began taking my meds again, and unfortunately I began my Zoloft in the few days before we broke into dosing daily. I though DXM was a great anti-depressant, because it literally made me happy. The euphoria made me able to cope with all the stresses of life.
We came across writings of the plateaus and decided to go for a fourth plateau trip and simply assumed, more. More, more more. We would dose two five ounce Delsym's (1,776mg) each and put on music, and fuck around on the trampoline, and on the computer all night. We did it in a group at first. But only two of us really stuck with it. We began doing this everyday, because school hadn't started yet, and we could sleep over almost every day, and could steal syrup easy enough anyway.
When i'm high I like to read trip reports on Erowid. I read about the drug i'm on, and try to imagine how other peoples trips felt and went. About a week into the binge, I came across a report of someone having a severe reaction to zoloft and DXM. And somewhere, in the depths of my mind I had a flicker of recognition for some of the words used.
Halloween came around and we went to one house. Too high to walk. Me and my syrup partner spent the night at another friend's house and got high with him. Night was great, and we had fun despite. But early that morning, my friend and I were wide awake, because I was panicking, I felt, I believed, I knew that if I closed my eyes my heart would stop beating. It seemed like fact.
It was the first gift of psychosis.
We got the second warning sign an hour later. After the panic subsided, we went to wake tony, because we had done three bottles each we were still fucked up, so, so, so dexxed out. We woke him and and he wasn't high anymore.
Just wasn't
What
?
?
We decided to not get high today, because we hadn't even come down from last night. By noon, our friend had cleaned up and all that. But we were still sky high. Third plateau was in the basement, and we were somewhere between the roof and the sky. The high felt different. That afternoon, walking home, we had our first breakdown. We lost it. It was sinking in that something was wrong. We hadn't come down at all, and to be honest, were higher than that morning. We dropped our backpacks on the sidewalk and cried. My friend thought we might be OD'ing, and was scared. But I was mortified, because I knew OD meant seizure, blackout, stroke, but I saw the potential to be so much scarier, I couldn't even make sound. I thought I had finally done it, and gotten brain damage, and a hell of a job at that. To complicate things, I had ruined a friend's life as well. I wanted to throw up, and I fell down. I told my friend I'm calling our parents, and he said not to, he didn't want to get in trouble. I told him that this could be serious, and explained what I thought. I told him I had to, and cried again, I apologized, again and again. I called his mom and asked her to pick us up and take us to my house.
We were three blocks from the friend's house we spent the night at.
We had left the house for mine, four hours earlier.
We cried the whole time, explaining to our parents what we think happened. My friend had a nervous breakdown and was prescribed xanax to help cope in the weeks after. He didn't come back to baseline for nearly 8 days. He said he felt above second, maybe third plateau until day six.
*three weeks earlier*
I had found my dad's Tramadol, which he never bothered to take. I always used that to justify stealing them. 50mg Tram, 180count. We took five or six at a time, and withing a single week were up to ten a dose. Found out that a couple on Delsym makes it warmer and friendlier.
Chink in the gears, a broken cog, little warning signs in the far back of my mind this whole time, but I can't make out why, I can't remember what it is I need to connect to understand. Don't do what?
I had been faithfully taking my Zoloft to please my parents. The Euphoria and empathy granted by the syrup made me want to be the perfect son.
*Original timeline resume*
It's now six days since the last dose, and I am still above a third plateau. Doing the math and the recall, I was stuck in the lower echelons of sigma. Trapped, and not moving anywhere but up. Lots people think hey, I wish I could just stay high, it'd make life so easy. Don't wish that, it's a force, it's one that just toys with you. We take doses that we feel comfortable with, because the drug will always win in a tug of war on your body and mind if left unchecked. My mom's friend, tells her, after some consultation with her boyfriend, who was a pharmacist, she recommended stopping the Zoloft until I can see a doctor.
Click, a gear clicks into place.
She also told them I should remain awake for as long as possible, because if it was how it seemed, I might be in deep this time.
The doctor said I should attempt to remain awake as much as possible, sleeping only when it's agonizing, because the something in my checkup suggested that one of these times I may suddenly not wake up.
What the fuck? Here I am, higher than i've ever been in my life, approaching the 500+ hour mark of being above a third plateau, and I have to accept that I might die in my sleep all of a fucking sudden?
No body I tell believes me that i'm still high, they say i'm trying to make things worse by pretending. The only friend who would understand, abandoned me. He didn't stand up for me, and I never forgot that. I'm so scared. I cry alot at night, because i'm too scared to try to sleep.
My dog cries when I do. I think she understands when I hurt.
a week later I am removed from my high school and placed in the psych ward at a nearby hospital. I can't hold a conversation because every letter of each word I think or read is burned into my field of vision in lazers seemingly, blinding me and startling me. Such vivid OEV's and even more alarmingly intense CEV's. I am still climbing, higher. I have accepted that I have severe brain damage, because it's the only think that I could imagine would be this bad. But I got something different. In retrospect, I got the far less severe punishment for my actions.
When the brain has too much serotonin, a condition can arise, called, Serotonin Syndrome.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Serotonin_syndrome
It's now two weeks since the last dose and I'm higher than I was at the +12 hour mark after the dose on halloween night.
I'm in the Acute care part of the inpatient psych ward. I am reacting badly to every medication I am put on, and become violent on some.
I was physically restrained for the first time this visit, for throwing chairs and swearing at staff. I never really found out why I became angry to begin with.
A week goes by and i'm getting worse. I am now getting as needed Thorazine and Haldol shots, along with Ativan IM four times a day. I was prescribed 2mg Klonopin in the morning, and 2mg at night, and a 1mg as needed dose was allowed. I am on 1200mg daily of Seroquel, half in the morning, half at night. I take my night dose and hear voices, I take my morning dose and hallucinate in my peripherals, it feels strikingly similar to Diphenhydramine. I sleep alot. I am slurring my words and get confused extremely easily, I would literally forget to eat and drink.
I give up hope. Three weeks since the last dose and I'm just as fucked up. I am still drowning in the darkness of Plateau Sigma, with a triple attack of Serotonin Sydrome. I am beyond destroyed, My life is ruined. Every minute feels like an hour, and I can't even complete my own thoughts inside my own head. Can you comprehend how terrifying it is to not be able to talk to even yourself? So lonely, so scary in raw mindspace. I can't even write down my feelings in groups.
I am sent to residential treatment. A locked psych ward for adolescents in Wisconsin. It's six weeks since the last dose. I am still in sigma. I have reached a plateau in intensity in the past weeks, but maybe i'm just too lost to tell. I black out intermittently. I spend a week in a rented house with family before the spot opens in the residential. I steal my meds from my parents, five, ten klonopin here, four ambien there. I black out for hours a day. I know that when you go to a new place, they re-order meds, so even if I use them all I won't run out at the place. The addict functions while the human dies. I fall over alot, and my shins are all bruised along with my arms from stumbling and falling. I reach the Residential and reach the glass floor of Sigma.
A week later I crack through to Third plateau, and remained trapped at the peak of third plateau for a month more.
I am moved to a residential facility out in nowhere wisconsin and remain there for ninety days. During this time I am switched from Seroquel to gabapentin, and my Klonopin is discontinued. At the forty five day mark I was down to mid to lower second plateau.
By Graduation time I was Baseline.
This is perhaps the worst experience of my lifetime, rivaled only by my 25i overdose.
We were doing daily doses of 1,500mg+ with no thought to the dangers it posed. For two weeks, fourth plateau worthy doses daily.
I was never prescribed Zoloft since.
I never took Tramadol again.
I fell into many more DXM binges however.
I never came 100% back. Something was ruined in me, I was broken, crushed by the reality that I am not indestructible. I lost my heart, my fight. DXM is no longer euphoric since.
This happened in 2009. I still feel wrong inside sometimes. My depression took a dive because of this event, I began thinking about suicide seriously for the first time in the months after this experience. The next year I took a whole bottle of ambien one night after my mom told me my dad didn't love me, in a fight. The day before, My mom had told me i'll end up just like my biological dad. He died from a heroin OD when I was two, and I live with my adoptive parents.
DXM is possible the darkest substance I have consumed. It tells you you are happy while it feeds on your mind. You break free and are lost in hell while you piece together your life.
Thanks for reading. Hope you liked it. Ask any questions and I'll answer best I can.
-Chris
Tagged by Xorkoth
substancecode_dxm
substancecode_dissociatives
substancecode_tramadol
substancecode_opiates
substancecode_zoloft
substancecode_sertraline
substancecode_antidepressants
substancecode_ssris
substancecode_pharms
_combo_
explevel_experienced
exptype_negative
exptype_healthissues
exptype_bodyload
exptype_difficult
exptype_disaster
exptype_addiction
exptype_overdose
roacode_oral
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