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I don't know if I want to get better.

D

danyo

Greenlighter
Joined
May 7, 2007
Messages
21
I haven't been to this forum in ages. Ten years ago when it was still bluelight.ru I used to browse around mostly looking for information about drugs or process addictions I felt applied to myself; and for experiences I related to. Before I even started doing anything other than binge eating (~10) on a daily basis I read posts by heroin addicts, cocaine/crack addicts really any addicts and felt like it was something that resonated with me; although I didn't understand why.

Ten years later I've gone through a strange progression. I've been an honour student in high school. Although my grade twelve year was spent switching from never doing any drugs to smoking pot daily. Adding mdma monthly, ketamine (why is that word not in spell check in firefox?) with it and a gram or two monthly otherwise. Tried various other things starting with mushrooms. Codeine, LSD (school trip to a theme park - good story). Cocaine. Oxy. Hydromorphone. cigarettes - which I probably had the strongest stigma against of everything I've done. legit pharms. wellbutrin. trazadone. effexor. escitoprolam. zopiclone. Lorazepam. Diazepam. Clonazepam. citolopram. myrtazepine. doxylamine. clonodine. hell ethylqualuudes. ethyl-methaqualone (not the qualuude qualuudes but close). dxm.

Went to jail for 19 weeks of two concurrent one year sentences. Stopped everything - but a year into probation picked up ketamine - and ran with it. ran a damn marathon. two ounces in about 18 days was my worst binge. Spent most of a week in my bed with a hot pad across my midsection with my parents scared sh*tless that they should be taking me into the hospital - me knowing they wouldn't give me anything and couldn't help much; mostly me not wanting to risk breaching probation.

Later after two years of a sh*t job, losing 100 pounds in 8-10 months through not eating because of ketamine pot cigarettes and stress. I widdled ketamine down to once every few months. Went to get some and drove myself home after thinking I'd waited it off and ended up in a cornfield with a couple cop cars and an ambulance; emt's and cops asking questions.

More charges later I'm at a point where my family will ditch me if I keep using drugs really to any degree. I've lost my friends. The only thing i've touched recently is codeine. I've done countless hours of therapy for the traumatic stuff I went through when I was little - had to accept the life I want is not the life I will have. I have a chance to try and get some treatment. I've gotten a couple of good job offers that have fallen apart b/c of my record. But I don't doubt I could get a decent job eventually.

All i can think is that If someone offered me a hotel room with endless opiates and a ps4 or a life with a job a few friends and my family. I'd take that room.
 
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This life is kind of a crapshoot I guess . If you are willing to live with your choices then IMO you have every right to make them and I'll not judge you. The best of luck to you whatever road you travel.
 
There's nothing wrong with not being ready to get sober, but I have to say sober life is so much easier and stable. Mentally I'm in a much better place. Getting sober was the best decision I made, but I had to be ready - all the pressure from work, friends, family couldn't make me ready. Live life the way you choose, but understand you are responsible for the consequences. Good luck!
 
I'm a first time poster. I can relate to this, although, my reasons are different. I'm genuinely in moderate to severe pain, with every breath that I take. I have severe gastrointestinal issues that often flare up into such acute pain, that I would seriously consider blowing my head off if given a gun, and I require hydromorphone injections at the hospital every time this flares up. (Oddly, hydromorphone makes my intestines hyperactive, I know they're suppose to slow the GI tract down, not sure why it has the adverse effect in this regard.)

I have no family, they gave me up long ago and put me in foster care. I had the greatest love that I could ever find, but he grew resentful of caring for me, and threw me out last year, got a new girlfriend within weeks... We were together for four years.

I've been lost ever since. I had a great career, a family for the first time in my life, and on top of that, I was one of the only female mma fighters in Canada being groomed to enter the UFC. I was being trained by UFC fighters, and was so fucking proud of the life I made for myself. I did a bit of modeling as well, but mma, that was it, that was my dream.

Fast forward five years later. I'm utterly alone, my illness has had taken My once incredibly strong body, and turned it into a shell. I was no longer the woman that my husband fell in love with, and I have no friends in sight.

If this is it for me, I'd rather spend my final days at home, alone, shooting the fuck out of my 4mg hydromorphone tabs. I'm on fentanyl too, but it does shit for me. Don't know why.

I've never shot up, and I'm scared to. I've had so many iv's that my once prominent veins have all collapsed. I wish I wasn't scared though. I'm on borrowed time at this point and completely unable to take anything orally.... I've begun plugging my meds just so they actually get in my body. But I can't eat anymore.... I deduce this down to the realization that I'm going to die from this illness. I'd rather spend my final days high as a fucking kite, than to look around my empty apartment and know that no one gives a shit about what is happening to me. I have completely given up.
 
:( I am so sorry for your suffering, both emotional and physical.

Hydro...Chronic pain is a tough one, especially when the meds prescribed to "ease" the pain make GI issues WORSE. I certainly empathize, as I think of hitting the exit daily.
 
Hydromoreplease said:
I'm a first time poster. I can relate to this, although, my reasons are different. I'm genuinely in moderate to severe pain, with every breath that I take. I have severe gastrointestinal issues that often flare up into such acute pain, that I would seriously consider blowing my head off if given a gun, and I require hydromorphone injections at the hospital every time this flares up. (Oddly, hydromorphone makes my intestines hyperactive, I know they're suppose to slow the GI tract down, not sure why it has the adverse effect in this regard.)

I have no family, they gave me up long ago and put me in foster care. I had the greatest love that I could ever find, but he grew resentful of caring for me, and threw me out last year, got a new girlfriend within weeks... We were together for four years.

I've been lost ever since. I had a great career, a family for the first time in my life, and on top of that, I was one of the only female mma fighters in Canada being groomed to enter the UFC. I was being trained by UFC fighters, and was so fucking proud of the life I made for myself. I did a bit of modeling as well, but mma, that was it, that was my dream.

Fast forward five years later. I'm utterly alone, my illness has had taken My once incredibly strong body, and turned it into a shell. I was no longer the woman that my husband fell in love with, and I have no friends in sight.

If this is it for me, I'd rather spend my final days at home, alone, shooting the fuck out of my 4mg hydromorphone tabs. I'm on fentanyl too, but it does shit for me. Don't know why.

I've never shot up, and I'm scared to. I've had so many iv's that my once prominent veins have all collapsed. I wish I wasn't scared though. I'm on borrowed time at this point and completely unable to take anything orally.... I've begun plugging my meds just so they actually get in my body. But I can't eat anymore.... I deduce this down to the realization that I'm going to die from this illness. I'd rather spend my final days high as a fucking kite, than to look around my empty apartment and know that no one gives a shit about what is happening to me. I have completely given up.
Click to expand...

Damn, that's tough. I relate to being depressed about your health...I have an incurable, chronic illness that requires active maintenance on my part & also results in me being in pain or otherwise feeling shitty, well, all the time basically. I haven't really felt "well" now for...about 3 or 4 years. Not even for a day (unless I'm high).

When I was first diagnosed I experienced "derealization" for a few weeks afterwards...somehow in the back of my mind I became convinced that this was all somehow a dream I was experiencing, the world didn't seem "real" to me, and in a weird irrational way I thought that I'd "wake up" from everything that was happening. And, when I woke up each morning and realized that this was in fact REAL LIFE I was experiencing, I'd usually slip into crushing depression. It was the only real episode of trauma I've ever experienced in my life, it was an extremely unpleasant experience and I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy

The point of all that is I know what it feels to be at rock bottom because of health issues. At that point in my life I wanted to die.

But my life afterwards actually was surprisingly good in parts of it. Life is hell but once in a while you'll get a flash of something truly beautiful and that's mostly why I stick around. Please hang in there <3
 
Thanks for the responses. I would quote a couple but for the sake of brevity - and because there on the page - I'm not going to.

Derealization and Depersonalization are things that I have too much experience with. In university I remember one night - one of hundreds in a row I'm sure - where I woke up in the middle of the night, walked to the fridge to get a drink of water or something, and it hit me. This feeling of watching myself. This feeling that I'm in a video game or a cartoon. This is life, this is my life. Nothing is going to 'click' and fix everything. I've felt like life passed me by since a young age and struggled with being subjected to horrible things, and reacting by making choices that just further hurt myself and others. I'm not sticking to a point here. sorry.

The crushing depression. I had two majors in Uni - one was philosophy so I'm about to get into gibberish :|. I have so little confidence in myself as a person and how I relate to other people. Other people scare me. They exist to manipulate me and to use me. So I try not to see myself that way - as a person in a world with a tonne of other people, I try to immerse myself in sensations that are overpowering enough to jar me loose from the feeling of constantly protecting myself from a social perspective. Binge eating, drugs, isolation. I spent the time from just before I was 17 to 21 22 chasing the possibility that there might be something that would completely do that. Let me be completely overwhelmed by sensation - put on my fav radiohead, or rachmoninov if I don't want lyrics, and for a time be too overwhelmed to even process what was happening. Just feel it.

I'm also pragmatic. I understand I can make decisions to live a life that actively engages my interests and the characteristics of who I am in a way that I hope one day might leave me feeling content - or more likely - just slightly depressed; but able to enjoy some days.

The hardest thing in dealing with maladaptive behaviour is knowing that I developed it at an age where I shouldn't have been expected to know any better. There is no concession for that - I don't get a prize or really anything but scars from having gone through hellish experiences and reacting to the best of my ability in ways that ultimately were not helpful. It leaves me with a picture of life as a bunch of people stumbling as best they can with little regard for reaching potential; individually and collectively. I know there are tonnes of people going through similar things to what I went through and some may get through ok but many will not. It is absolutely avoidable but will not be avoided.

Hydromoreplease: I genuinely hope that you come back to this thread.

I care about you. Maybe you don't care about yourself. Every person should be able to live in a way that allows them to express themselves. Engage their likes and dislikes etc. hopefully you can read between the lines because I'm not great at this type of thing.

I've met a couple former MMA fighters - I bet you could kick my ass even today. You, and what you've accomplished, should be a model for young women. Take that back if you can. You've fought for yourself in the past, fight for yourself now. Your ex-husband was unable or unwilling to help you. That's a comment on the lack of character on his part. Not on yours.

Like burnt offerings say - sometimes there are things that make you forget everything else. Experiences that completely immerse you in something that makes you feel ... like you. I haven't found a way to have enough of these to make life for me feel OK yet. I hope that getting help and trying to move forward, keep some faith that things will turn around for me, will be a step towards that. I doubt I'll ever be happy, but if there's one thing I've found out is that the only thing that changes when you're so brutally unhappy that you feel like you're waiting for your life to end is how many days in a row you've felt like that.

I'm going to try and salvage my life as best as possible. Thanks again for the responses. Helped me air out my thoughts.
 
I too can relate to the feeling of being in a dream, I'd been too strong and too healthy for this to be acceptable for me. I thought deep down, that this would pass and I'd be back to life once they diagnosed me.

But the first hospital I went to, left me untreated and undiagnosed for two years. You begin panicking at that point. Then I go to a new hospital, great hospital.... And yet diagnosed, *yay* you think.... It's not fixable, and is only going to progress. Still can't accept it. It's only been this past year that it finally hit me... This is it. This is what I'm left with.

I do have a strong belief in metaphysics, life after death, reincarnation, enlightenment, and karma.

It has taught me that I am no victim. That I chose this life, and this broken body to learn. We all choose or challenges in this life, not as punishment, but to learn from it... In the process, it leaves lessons for those around you to learn from as well. I do not feel that this was all for nothing, I have learned so much in this life, that perhaps I needed to learn in order to move forward.

I've learned humility, what suffering feels like, what real pain feels like, to have nothing and make something if yourself to have it taken away. I've learned that family is irreplaceable, and that you truly the support of them. I've learned to appreciate every person, and to be completely open with those I love, and to make sure that they know that I love and appreciate them.... I could have been far more appreciative to some people in my life than I am now. Even if they hurt me, I believe they came into my life for a period of time to help me in some way, which I will always be grateful for.

I do not want to die, however, should it be that I cannot be fixed, I will try to at least accept my death with dignity. I don't pray for hope anymore, I haven't had hope in a long time... But I pray for the strength to hold it together should death be my fate. I have not eaten since last Thursday.... It takes approx 40 days to pass without food if you are hydrated. It's a scary time. My only hope is that I will not be alone when I do take my final breath, I don't want to die alone and scared.
 
Death may be most frightening when we approach it still at a distance but near it's completion for some at least it seems to lose some of its frightening nature. My situation requires my suicide at some point and I hope that it's not too frightening when the time comes. I prepare for it daily. Personally I prefer to be alone with my thoughts at the end. I find other humans to be of very little comfort but that's just how I'm built after having abusive and uncaring parents and finding all other relationships wanting. Dogs are my thing.
 
I am sorry that you too, need to make that decision... I can completely relate, I have to make the decision to starve myself to death if the surgeons decide they can't do anything... I find out on the 3rd.

My doctor admitted today, that he's on the same page as me, he just had to exhaust all options first, which I appreciate. However, we are now making end of life decisions. It really is surreal, being 32 years old, and to be planning your upcoming death. It's true what they say, when it's time for you to go, you know it physically, mentally, and emotionally. Planning your death just become factual, no emotions involved... Like planning the seating arrangement at a wedding. Dnr to be signed, and was made aware that euthanasia will be legal here in Canada as of July.... So it may be an option if I'm suffering too much at that time.

I'm back on the hydromorphone today, doctor approved me plugging them, because I can't keep anything down.... I was fucking high as a kite today after being off it completely since Thursday.

Although, my rectum is bleeding from plugging, any advice for that? I really should be using a tube attached to my flush syringe, as I've just been relaxing my rectum enough to insert the actual flush. (I've had so many colonoscopies that this is no issue for me)

I don't have many people visit, but the few times I thought I wanted to be around people, and was, I'd almost want to be alone again immediately, so I'm confused about what I want and need in that regard. I think that given my situation, when I'm placed with someone, I feel that I'm too depressing to be around, there's no light left in me. I can still laugh and joke around, but I know my overall energy that I give out is dark.

My friend invited me over tonight, and I'm actually having a pain free day, being back on the hydro, but I'm still on the fence as to whether I want to go. In retrospect, he really should be coming to visit me, given how sick I've been... Now that I think of it, he really only wants me to come over because his vape pen for smoking dabs broke, so he wants to use mine.

As you can see, I've clearly developed a mistrust for people's intentions.
 
By nature we are made to think of ourselves first. I helps the species survive. So don't be too offended if your friends have some ulterior motives when they come by, it doesn't mean they totally don't care about you.

I would rather be alone for the most part. I've said goodbye to those that mattered and now I just want to hang with my doggies until my end.

Starving can be painful or not depending on the person but to me it seems a poor option for suicide. I've done a ton research into all the methods. I have made peace with my choices and feel they are the best on many levels. I wish you well in whatever is left of your time here. We all die and disappear forever so whether we go at 12 or 20 or 67 or 99 it really isn't that important ultimely. I comfort myself with that knowledge. I did my best work and it didn't amount to much considering my hearts desires so I'm not so sad about being done soon. This world really has never been a good fit for me except for the few summers I spent in the High Deserts living abo with my dog. Those were great times and I went for weeks at a time without a glimpse of humanity. That really was soothing for my tired soul. I also had a good time living in Fiji for three months just snorkeling and hiking in the jungles. There was a few other truly great moments but overall it was a not a very good time. So... fuck it all. :)
 
I should clarify, I physically cannot eat because of my digestive diseases, not because I'm committing suicide.
 
After my son fatally overdosed, recovery from my own psyche's death was uncertain, as was the will to come back to life. It was only my love for my other son that made the lack of will a travesty in my own eyes but still, how would it be possible? It was nature herself that brought me back around. Small little glints of life embedded in each day of bleak misery. It was quite literally walking outside one morning and smelling the honeysuckle vine by my door as I passed by. Smelling it and realizing that it brought me a nano second of joy before the plunge back down into despair. The knowledge that outside of my private hell the earth was till offering herself up as the one true home of every human heart. It took will, and it took acceptance of pain and loss, but I can now say almost 5 years later that I am grateful for my life even in those hours when it hurts like hell to live it. One way or another this sojourn with your own unique humanity is short. My son's friends plucked something he wrote as a teen on his myspace and it sticks with me. He wrote, "Don't miss. Love." I think he always understood transience better than I did.
 
"I would rather be alone for the most part. I've said goodbye to those that mattered and now I just want to hang with my doggies until my end."

This part stood out most to me. My animals are what keep me going and the desire to not see them suffer because of me. I hurt too many people and animals in my addiction but sometimes still my own suffering gets in the way and some part of me is ok with the slow death by good drugs and I go back to using. It sure isn't as drastic as my suicide attempts. I think what keeps me moving forward is the hope that some day sober will feel better than lit up. That cliche "my worst day sober beats my best day using" I don't believe. I've had some bad trauma sober and made memories of a lifetime high. To date my body has not been able to mimic the level of euphoria reached on certain drug combos on its own and I've done so much damage I doubt it ever will. What I want to ask you is what I ask myself everyday: if I outlive my animals what is there left to live for? It's my fear that that will be the point where I give up but I still wonder if there's more to life than chasing down every temporary high (thank you Stacie Orrico for those lyrics).
 
It's so weird to be in this place. A place where nothing really makes me want to be here anymore. In reality tweaking my brain with drugs is the only thing that makes me happy anymore and that's a temporary fix I know all too well. I always thought I'd find some answer that would fix my life and make it a success. That just didn't happen and what I learned in the attempt so depressed me that I ended up all the way at the bottom of my rabbit hole and it's dark and lonely to be honest. I do love my dogs. God I love my dogs. The good part for me is I've found them perfect homes with someone I completely trust. She has dogs of her own and they all hang together in harmony several times a week so they know and love her and her pack. So that frees me of some pain and sadness. I have nothing else to fret over. So I'll do the drugs until they quit working for me and then hopefully I'll have the courage to bow out gracefully. In the meantime as I said and as I await my perfect storm I'll try to help others and support them in their personal struggles. I'll do this mostly just by supporting them in making any choice they deem the best for themselves without judging them. I see so much suffering now that I've learned to see beneath the surface of this game that all I feel is compassion and empathy. I wish us all the best all the time. It's all I have to offer.
 
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