idiotkid243
Greenlighter
- Joined
- Dec 11, 2024
- Messages
- 2
I've had affairs with most of the drugs you'd find in DARE literature, and I've been the one to fall in love harder every time. I've never walked away unscathed.
With kratom, I thought I had finally found a relationship where I was the one in control. I knew, deep down, that it was probably too good to be true, and this is what makes me an idiot. I knew; I did it anyway.
I was able to control it, and it kept me away from dope and pills. I could get a little tore back at night and not take any during the day, coming back to my secret island at night. It scratched the itch to alter my conscious; I wasn't ruining everything around me; I loved the way it made me feel. I was able to keep my doses somewhat reasonable, to 12 or 13 grams. I did this for years, and this is the part that kills me.
A radio host that I used to listen to said one time that "there ain't no such thing as a free buzz". Reading into the studies surrounding heavy metals, particularly manganese being found in ungodly quantities in a lot of kratom, speaking to a salesperson from a testing company that confirmed that they are finding huge amounts of manganese in most kratom, and having taken it for years, I can't say otherwise. I'm a highly, highly anxious person; I'm diagnosed with OCD; kratom helped me shut off for a few hours and feel okay without ruining my loved ones' lives. The thing that I've anchored myself with successfully for years is the thing that I've probably poisoned my blood with for years.
Will I get manganism, a Parkinson's-style disease, from excess manganese? I mean, maybe, maybe not. I'll probably be okay. But it will eat me up until the day I die, waiting for it to rear its ugly head. I'll stress about other damage it may have done - did I give myself sub-manganism brain damage? Could I have been a lawyer? A millionaire? Stupid shit. And I turned my brother onto it, and it's got him completely in its clutches - I'll have ruined my little brother, the person I love more than anyone else. All of this is pure conjecture, maybe some, maybe most, of it is unlikely to happen, maybe we kratom users get away scot-free, but the sky is always falling in my brain 24/7, and all of this is an inevitability, or a sandpit that I find myself in, trying constantly in vain to escape from the abyss; this is but one of my neuroses - I live a 24/7 self-imposed hell of various obsessions, and my little lifeboat is gone.
I'm an idiot, because I knew it was dumb and I did it anyway, having done this same script with every other drug my mom told me never to touch. And I'm weak because I can't roll the dice without destroying my psyche stressing about the consequences. I'm low, not only because I'm an idiot, not only because I'm a welp, but also because I lack the fortitude to lockdown my neuroses and instead spew them out into the public consciousness, degrading the collective experience with self-centered vomit--about kratom, of all things, the absolute lowest part of the hierarchy of concern, such a place where even then I cannot keep my shit together, pathetic-- I know it, you know it.
With kratom, I thought I had finally found a relationship where I was the one in control. I knew, deep down, that it was probably too good to be true, and this is what makes me an idiot. I knew; I did it anyway.
I was able to control it, and it kept me away from dope and pills. I could get a little tore back at night and not take any during the day, coming back to my secret island at night. It scratched the itch to alter my conscious; I wasn't ruining everything around me; I loved the way it made me feel. I was able to keep my doses somewhat reasonable, to 12 or 13 grams. I did this for years, and this is the part that kills me.
A radio host that I used to listen to said one time that "there ain't no such thing as a free buzz". Reading into the studies surrounding heavy metals, particularly manganese being found in ungodly quantities in a lot of kratom, speaking to a salesperson from a testing company that confirmed that they are finding huge amounts of manganese in most kratom, and having taken it for years, I can't say otherwise. I'm a highly, highly anxious person; I'm diagnosed with OCD; kratom helped me shut off for a few hours and feel okay without ruining my loved ones' lives. The thing that I've anchored myself with successfully for years is the thing that I've probably poisoned my blood with for years.
Will I get manganism, a Parkinson's-style disease, from excess manganese? I mean, maybe, maybe not. I'll probably be okay. But it will eat me up until the day I die, waiting for it to rear its ugly head. I'll stress about other damage it may have done - did I give myself sub-manganism brain damage? Could I have been a lawyer? A millionaire? Stupid shit. And I turned my brother onto it, and it's got him completely in its clutches - I'll have ruined my little brother, the person I love more than anyone else. All of this is pure conjecture, maybe some, maybe most, of it is unlikely to happen, maybe we kratom users get away scot-free, but the sky is always falling in my brain 24/7, and all of this is an inevitability, or a sandpit that I find myself in, trying constantly in vain to escape from the abyss; this is but one of my neuroses - I live a 24/7 self-imposed hell of various obsessions, and my little lifeboat is gone.
I'm an idiot, because I knew it was dumb and I did it anyway, having done this same script with every other drug my mom told me never to touch. And I'm weak because I can't roll the dice without destroying my psyche stressing about the consequences. I'm low, not only because I'm an idiot, not only because I'm a welp, but also because I lack the fortitude to lockdown my neuroses and instead spew them out into the public consciousness, degrading the collective experience with self-centered vomit--about kratom, of all things, the absolute lowest part of the hierarchy of concern, such a place where even then I cannot keep my shit together, pathetic-- I know it, you know it.
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