my situation is weird. i would be, by all psych textbooks, be dubbed 'dependent on narcotic painkillers', and a code would follow, something with an NOS at the end, since my 'addiction' weird.
When a situation arose where someone died and left behind a barrel of oxys, I reveled in their narcotic splendor, but I started with the smallest possible dose and by the time the bucket was finished, i titrated up to 20mg QD. I would not allow myself more, ever.
Then the whole poppy tea craze came to town, and I found myself clearing out shelves from the arabic and persian stores where the seeds were, for some odd reason, more potent than any pod i've tried [except the pods that grow in the dogwalking and children's park quite close to me, where in the summer about 1000 pods, very small ones, skyrocket to heights unfathomable...these are double magnum pods, and theyre tiny like marbles, but still murder..i was blown away], in the beginning being a careful innocent young lamb, but quickly becoming a Nepalese opium junkie to the point that my heart stopped on one occasion and I saw Hashem's luring arms beckoning me to come forth. After that, I abstained from the poppies for about 48 hours and resumed the usual routine. At that time I got heavily 'into' psychopharm...became a passion. I realized that I was headed for grim death, and cut myself off...titrated down in 2 weeks to 0. It was impossible to endure, I saw poppies in my sleep, i hallucinated poppies, i mistook tulips in the flower shop for P. somniferum, and I was depressed, had to go on mad tricyclics and insulin shock, prolonged sleep therapy, rhythmic gymnastics with ribbons, and the like.
But the depression went away very quickly thanks to mr. Doxepin and Campral and XANAX, which led to another cycle of abuse and misuse...
So I realized the hard way, how horrid it was. Now, however, I do not have cravings, nor do I yearn for the tea. Now I am able to control myself, and also am lucky to have some knowledge about opiates and a plethora of things associated with it, so I know how brutal it is. If I do it, its on a special occasion. Like I'll put on Viskningar och Rop and have the tea. But this is ultra rare...maybe 3 times a year max. I don't touch oxycodone, but if someone gave me a big bottleful, I'd chuck 2/3rds into the loo and have a night with the remaining..blast some eurotrash techno and go out professing my love to everybody. But I would not repeat it the next day.
I WILL and DO throw away drugs if theyre given to me....that is, most of the supply, leaving a wee bit for myself. The drawback is that opiate tolerance never goes away, so my min is 160 ER.
The point I'm trying to make.....my addiction is odd. I can't say I'm not addicted, but when I have no opiates, I'm fine, I don't crave them, I don't go searching for them. They don't cross my mind. But on rare occasions I will indulge safely, and get huge satisfaction from it. My organism is such that I adjust to change extremely well. I'm grateful for that.
[sorry for the length of the post...i have a tendency to write Turgenev-like sentences that never end. my father was a poet, my mother was prof. of Literature....and I was a junkie for a period of time, so DONT DO OPIATES! don't even start..take it from a man who has seen Hashem and by him was wisdom y-granted] ok. done.
- A. Miaskovsky