thizzin' since 98
Bluelighter
- Joined
- Feb 22, 2011
- Messages
- 118
I can't stand the mental pain anymore. It's been a 4 year battle and absolutely nothing has gotten better.
I suffer from diagnosed generalized anxiety disorder and clinical depression with occassional depersonalization/derealization. All sparked from "MDMA" or whatever the fuck was in those shitty ass, dirty pressed pills I was taking with my ex girlfriend of 4 years, my first and only girlfriend that I lost due to my lack of motivation and giving her the attention she needed because of the fact that I
I couldn't even take care of myself, let alone give her the attention and love she craved, which made her leave me for some dude at her new job.
I only took 'mdma' and occassionally smoked weed, starting on my 18th birthday, back in 2011, when I was kicked out of my house. I went on a binge, with my friend buying hundreds of dollars worth of 'pokeballs' for about 3 months. We would roll Friday, Saturday, Sunday, then sleep and recover for the next few days, then wash, rinse, repeat. Every roll was incredible, I've never felt so incredible in my life, the roll would be so intense, semi tweaky rolls, I would grind my teeth bad, my eyes would shake, I was filled with so much love, I had such a strong connection with my girlfriend, everything was great, until one night, coming home from a rave with some friends, we all still wanted to keep the party going, mind you I didn't have a test kit and was young a naive, and took whatever pills I was sold without question.
This night, the supplier had a different batch that I had never taken before, she had 3 different kinds at the time, 3 red supermans, which my girlfriend and her friend split up and took and one lone blue rolex that I took. I had never taken anything besides 'pokeballs' before the blue rolex which was not a 'pokeball'. It was dark blue, and speckled with green, very chalky, the dye was rubbing off on my fingers almost immediatly, I had a weird vibe about it, but was desperate to keep my high going, so I ate it.
About 40 minutes later, I felt like a train had hit my brain, I left my body, felt like I was stuck in a 3rd person, looking down at myself in her bedroom, sitting against the wall in the corner of her bed. I began shaking, crying, and went into my first extreme panic attack, I was stuck in the bathroom, filling up the sink repeatedly with vomit, throwing up pure blue liquid with chunks of green scattered about. I probably vomited 7-8 times within a 2 hour period. I ran outside into her front yard, sobbing, felt like my mind was melting, I kept begging my friends to take me to the hospital, but no one wanted to, in fear of our parents finding out what we've been doing and potentially getting in trouble with the law. I really thought I was going to pass away that night. The high lasted approximately 18-22 hours, off just one blue rolex and a red dragon fly I had taken hours ealier in the night. I kept praying for it to go away, begging god for forgiveness for being such an idiot and taking drugs and to save me before I died. That was the last time I touched street drugs. I was so traumatized, for weeks after that night, I felt incredible depersonalization, and felt like I was on a permanent comedown, I would break down and cry for hours and hours, for weeks, for no apparent reason. I just wanted my old self back. Shortly after that whole experience my family broke apart, my parents, married for 32 years, divorced, my brother also pretty much left the family and did his own thing, I now lived on my own with a friend and my girlfriend, for the next 4 years. And my mental health never came back to me. I tried excersising, a change in diet, I went to the doctor, let him know what happened and was prescribed xanax as well as wellbutrin, prozac, celexa anti psychotics, because they suspected me of being schizophrenic, and other drugs over the course of a few months, with no relief besides the xanax which did take the edge off a bit.
I'm 22 years old and my quality of life is currently 1/10. Before the drugs, I was 'straight edge' throughout highschool. Life was great, I graduated with a 3.9, at 17 years old. I had a supporting family and lived fairly comfortable. I used to skateboard everyday as well as play music, guitar, piano, as well as playing competitive video games, making around $800 including tons of free gear and electonics. I would take trips out to chino hills, venice beach, all over Californa, and skate all afternoon throughout the night, having a blast, never getting tired, feeling great. I had no idea what anxiety or depression felt like.
These should be the best years of my life. I should be living life to the fullest, making memories, improving myself, traveling, making a name for myself.
I work a shit job, minimum wage, fluctuating hours, even if its a 4 hour shift, I cannot wait to get the fuck home, it feels like an 10 hour shift in my head.
I can sleep 8 hours, 12 hours, 14 hours and wake up feeling a deep sickness in my gut, absolutely no appetite, no passion to do anything that I used to love and exhausted like I haven't even got an hour of sleep.
I'm constantly contemplating ending my life, I have no support, I feel like a complete waste of time and space.
Over the past few months I've been spending half of my paychecks every two weeks, on clonopin and norcos and percocets.
The percocets give me energy, motivation, improve my mood 10 fold, I crave them, because thats the only time I feel talkative, up, I can get out of the house and accomplish some things, I feel like I'm very close to creating a new monster and becoming addicted to opiates because they make me feel some what normal again. Other than that I haven't taken any SSRI's or anything for at least 2 years.
But after those few short hours of relief, I become a recluse again, constanty feel nauseous, feel like I want to cry, extremely anxious, feel angry and irritated as fuck, I want to fight, I have dark and strange thoughts. I'm scared and can't take the pain anymore.
I'm currently high on norcos, which is the only reason I'm on here making this thread, if it even makes sense. Otherwise I feel to crippled to even reach out for help. I apologize if I'm jumping around with my back story or if I am leaving out anything, I'm trying to fight the nods.
I don't know what to do, I want my old self back, and I know I'll never be that soft spoken, go with the flow, cool kid I used to be. I've never been in a fight, I've never been in trouble with the law, even now, in this terrible state, I can still fake it, and most people have no clue anything is wrong with me, I have females hitting me up frequently, wanting to hang out, telling me how attractive I am, etc etc, but I have no interesting in even simply texting back, same goes with old friends, I'll always flake on them, even though I fucking pray I could be a normal 22 year old man again and go out and adventure and rebuild relationships again.
I think its time for me to go, I fucked up, I made foolish decisions. I have nothing to look forward to. I'm ready to go. I'm just another statistic, I might be missed for a few months, then I'll fade away, a distant memory like everyone else who passes away. I'm not contributing to the world, to the people around me.
I'm already exhausted from typing and my mind is blank again. Sorry for the novel, I'm too high to proof read it. I might be missing some things.
If you have any questions to help complete my story/situation, feel free to ask.
Farewell my fellow bluelighters, hopefully people new to the drug culture can take something away from this and steer away from drugs or be responsible unlike my stupid ass, and not end up another statistic like myself.
I suffer from diagnosed generalized anxiety disorder and clinical depression with occassional depersonalization/derealization. All sparked from "MDMA" or whatever the fuck was in those shitty ass, dirty pressed pills I was taking with my ex girlfriend of 4 years, my first and only girlfriend that I lost due to my lack of motivation and giving her the attention she needed because of the fact that I
I couldn't even take care of myself, let alone give her the attention and love she craved, which made her leave me for some dude at her new job.
I only took 'mdma' and occassionally smoked weed, starting on my 18th birthday, back in 2011, when I was kicked out of my house. I went on a binge, with my friend buying hundreds of dollars worth of 'pokeballs' for about 3 months. We would roll Friday, Saturday, Sunday, then sleep and recover for the next few days, then wash, rinse, repeat. Every roll was incredible, I've never felt so incredible in my life, the roll would be so intense, semi tweaky rolls, I would grind my teeth bad, my eyes would shake, I was filled with so much love, I had such a strong connection with my girlfriend, everything was great, until one night, coming home from a rave with some friends, we all still wanted to keep the party going, mind you I didn't have a test kit and was young a naive, and took whatever pills I was sold without question.
This night, the supplier had a different batch that I had never taken before, she had 3 different kinds at the time, 3 red supermans, which my girlfriend and her friend split up and took and one lone blue rolex that I took. I had never taken anything besides 'pokeballs' before the blue rolex which was not a 'pokeball'. It was dark blue, and speckled with green, very chalky, the dye was rubbing off on my fingers almost immediatly, I had a weird vibe about it, but was desperate to keep my high going, so I ate it.
About 40 minutes later, I felt like a train had hit my brain, I left my body, felt like I was stuck in a 3rd person, looking down at myself in her bedroom, sitting against the wall in the corner of her bed. I began shaking, crying, and went into my first extreme panic attack, I was stuck in the bathroom, filling up the sink repeatedly with vomit, throwing up pure blue liquid with chunks of green scattered about. I probably vomited 7-8 times within a 2 hour period. I ran outside into her front yard, sobbing, felt like my mind was melting, I kept begging my friends to take me to the hospital, but no one wanted to, in fear of our parents finding out what we've been doing and potentially getting in trouble with the law. I really thought I was going to pass away that night. The high lasted approximately 18-22 hours, off just one blue rolex and a red dragon fly I had taken hours ealier in the night. I kept praying for it to go away, begging god for forgiveness for being such an idiot and taking drugs and to save me before I died. That was the last time I touched street drugs. I was so traumatized, for weeks after that night, I felt incredible depersonalization, and felt like I was on a permanent comedown, I would break down and cry for hours and hours, for weeks, for no apparent reason. I just wanted my old self back. Shortly after that whole experience my family broke apart, my parents, married for 32 years, divorced, my brother also pretty much left the family and did his own thing, I now lived on my own with a friend and my girlfriend, for the next 4 years. And my mental health never came back to me. I tried excersising, a change in diet, I went to the doctor, let him know what happened and was prescribed xanax as well as wellbutrin, prozac, celexa anti psychotics, because they suspected me of being schizophrenic, and other drugs over the course of a few months, with no relief besides the xanax which did take the edge off a bit.
I'm 22 years old and my quality of life is currently 1/10. Before the drugs, I was 'straight edge' throughout highschool. Life was great, I graduated with a 3.9, at 17 years old. I had a supporting family and lived fairly comfortable. I used to skateboard everyday as well as play music, guitar, piano, as well as playing competitive video games, making around $800 including tons of free gear and electonics. I would take trips out to chino hills, venice beach, all over Californa, and skate all afternoon throughout the night, having a blast, never getting tired, feeling great. I had no idea what anxiety or depression felt like.
These should be the best years of my life. I should be living life to the fullest, making memories, improving myself, traveling, making a name for myself.
I work a shit job, minimum wage, fluctuating hours, even if its a 4 hour shift, I cannot wait to get the fuck home, it feels like an 10 hour shift in my head.
I can sleep 8 hours, 12 hours, 14 hours and wake up feeling a deep sickness in my gut, absolutely no appetite, no passion to do anything that I used to love and exhausted like I haven't even got an hour of sleep.
I'm constantly contemplating ending my life, I have no support, I feel like a complete waste of time and space.
Over the past few months I've been spending half of my paychecks every two weeks, on clonopin and norcos and percocets.
The percocets give me energy, motivation, improve my mood 10 fold, I crave them, because thats the only time I feel talkative, up, I can get out of the house and accomplish some things, I feel like I'm very close to creating a new monster and becoming addicted to opiates because they make me feel some what normal again. Other than that I haven't taken any SSRI's or anything for at least 2 years.
But after those few short hours of relief, I become a recluse again, constanty feel nauseous, feel like I want to cry, extremely anxious, feel angry and irritated as fuck, I want to fight, I have dark and strange thoughts. I'm scared and can't take the pain anymore.
I'm currently high on norcos, which is the only reason I'm on here making this thread, if it even makes sense. Otherwise I feel to crippled to even reach out for help. I apologize if I'm jumping around with my back story or if I am leaving out anything, I'm trying to fight the nods.
I don't know what to do, I want my old self back, and I know I'll never be that soft spoken, go with the flow, cool kid I used to be. I've never been in a fight, I've never been in trouble with the law, even now, in this terrible state, I can still fake it, and most people have no clue anything is wrong with me, I have females hitting me up frequently, wanting to hang out, telling me how attractive I am, etc etc, but I have no interesting in even simply texting back, same goes with old friends, I'll always flake on them, even though I fucking pray I could be a normal 22 year old man again and go out and adventure and rebuild relationships again.
I think its time for me to go, I fucked up, I made foolish decisions. I have nothing to look forward to. I'm ready to go. I'm just another statistic, I might be missed for a few months, then I'll fade away, a distant memory like everyone else who passes away. I'm not contributing to the world, to the people around me.
I'm already exhausted from typing and my mind is blank again. Sorry for the novel, I'm too high to proof read it. I might be missing some things.
If you have any questions to help complete my story/situation, feel free to ask.
Farewell my fellow bluelighters, hopefully people new to the drug culture can take something away from this and steer away from drugs or be responsible unlike my stupid ass, and not end up another statistic like myself.
