DrugFuckedNZ
Bluelighter
In Love with the injecting ritual more than the drug itself...
This is my experience and personal thoughts about the love of the ritual of injecting intravenous drugs so it is written in a first person perspective to get the true full impact, mindset and thoughts and emotions about what goes through my mind during the injecting process.
I hope it does not break any rules being told in this way. It is not meant to glamorize IV drug use which we all know is a very dangerous practice, just tell you how it is for me personally and what goes on in my head during this process.
I always wondered why anyone would find pleasure in jabbing themselves with needles as I have always had a major fear of needles for the last 47 years to the extent I would not even get blood tests done (wussy scaredy-cat I know).
The Ritual::
All week I've been waiting for this day to come like a kid waiting for Christmas, fantasizing, day dreaming, lusting, waiting. I'm feeling excited and semi-euphoric just walking out of the pharmacy with my weekly pickup of prescribed medications as I know in about one hour I will be in blissful ecstasy.
I rush home floating one foot above the ground with my bundles of joy.
I love the preparation stage immensely and drag it out for as long as I can, for me this is like foreplay.
The bottom drawer in my dresser has all my injecting equipment, 100+ each of syringes, assorted needles, cotton filters, micron filters, alcohol swabs, sterile water, a tourniquet, sharps containers (thanks to the needle exchange) and my bent shiny soup spoon.
I place all my medical equipment on the bed and bedside dresser in tidy piles with the precision of a surgeon and now my room does look kind of like my own private surgery, my ritual has just begun.
I subconsciously feel like I'm a doctor or nurse prepping a patient, some kind of twisted role playing game is going on and I'm totally immersed in it and enjoying every minute of it too.
Hands washed, spoon sterilized and alcohol swabbed, the room is quiet as there is no need for music yet so I can hear the amplified sounds of this medical procedure. The sound of blister pack foils bursting open and the tablets clink clanging as they fall into the spoon, the ripping and tearing sounds of plastic and paper from luer lock syringes and needles, which are attached to the barrel like a silencer of a gun.
Sterile distilled water is added and the tablets swell and dissolve magically like fluffy marshmallows, the mixture is lovingly stirred till disolved, cotton filter added, solution drawn up, micron filtered, the clank clank sound flicking the syringe with my fingernail to get rid of air bubbles is music to my ears. A jet of liquid potion squirts out of the needle, I'm ready.
I'm in a trance-like state now as all my senses are totally aware and super heightened, concentrated and focused, there is no yesterday, no tomorrow, there is just now.
A strong whiff of isopropyl alcohol fills the air from the alcohol swabs as I feel its coldness and wetness on my skin like ice. I hear velcro mesh together as the tourniquet is tightened. The tension is mounting as I try and steady myself and get in the right position and take a few deep breaths to get rid of my twitches and nerves as I know one false move as its all over, a wasted shot if I miss and all that waiting for nothing.
I mentally picture myself standing on a sprinter's running track shaking my hands at my sides, head rolling, just about to enter the starters block, that's the feeling I get every time, complete excitement mixed with nervous anticipation.
I grip my implement the way I've been shown like a delicate pen, spinning the barrel till I see the bevel of the needle catch a glint of light and it sparkles almost like an eye winking at me.
Vein ready, check. Bevel up, check. Angle ok, check. Grip ok, check. Two fingers on plunger to jack back, check. It's time.
I slowly inch the needle point closer to my favourite insertion point as I see the needle break the skin and enter my vein. I feel a slight pin prick but it is slightly delayed, almost like watching a pirated movie where the audio and video don't match and are not in synch.
I pull back gently on the plunger, and to my delight a dark red splash of colour enters the barrel in a swirling motion. I get an instant wave of relief that washes over my entire body and begin to relax now that I'm successfully plugged into my life-giving oxygen network.
There's only one thing left to do. The steady push.
This is my experience and personal thoughts about the love of the ritual of injecting intravenous drugs so it is written in a first person perspective to get the true full impact, mindset and thoughts and emotions about what goes through my mind during the injecting process.
I hope it does not break any rules being told in this way. It is not meant to glamorize IV drug use which we all know is a very dangerous practice, just tell you how it is for me personally and what goes on in my head during this process.
I always wondered why anyone would find pleasure in jabbing themselves with needles as I have always had a major fear of needles for the last 47 years to the extent I would not even get blood tests done (wussy scaredy-cat I know).
The Ritual::
All week I've been waiting for this day to come like a kid waiting for Christmas, fantasizing, day dreaming, lusting, waiting. I'm feeling excited and semi-euphoric just walking out of the pharmacy with my weekly pickup of prescribed medications as I know in about one hour I will be in blissful ecstasy.
I rush home floating one foot above the ground with my bundles of joy.
I love the preparation stage immensely and drag it out for as long as I can, for me this is like foreplay.
The bottom drawer in my dresser has all my injecting equipment, 100+ each of syringes, assorted needles, cotton filters, micron filters, alcohol swabs, sterile water, a tourniquet, sharps containers (thanks to the needle exchange) and my bent shiny soup spoon.
I place all my medical equipment on the bed and bedside dresser in tidy piles with the precision of a surgeon and now my room does look kind of like my own private surgery, my ritual has just begun.
I subconsciously feel like I'm a doctor or nurse prepping a patient, some kind of twisted role playing game is going on and I'm totally immersed in it and enjoying every minute of it too.
Hands washed, spoon sterilized and alcohol swabbed, the room is quiet as there is no need for music yet so I can hear the amplified sounds of this medical procedure. The sound of blister pack foils bursting open and the tablets clink clanging as they fall into the spoon, the ripping and tearing sounds of plastic and paper from luer lock syringes and needles, which are attached to the barrel like a silencer of a gun.
Sterile distilled water is added and the tablets swell and dissolve magically like fluffy marshmallows, the mixture is lovingly stirred till disolved, cotton filter added, solution drawn up, micron filtered, the clank clank sound flicking the syringe with my fingernail to get rid of air bubbles is music to my ears. A jet of liquid potion squirts out of the needle, I'm ready.
I'm in a trance-like state now as all my senses are totally aware and super heightened, concentrated and focused, there is no yesterday, no tomorrow, there is just now.
A strong whiff of isopropyl alcohol fills the air from the alcohol swabs as I feel its coldness and wetness on my skin like ice. I hear velcro mesh together as the tourniquet is tightened. The tension is mounting as I try and steady myself and get in the right position and take a few deep breaths to get rid of my twitches and nerves as I know one false move as its all over, a wasted shot if I miss and all that waiting for nothing.
I mentally picture myself standing on a sprinter's running track shaking my hands at my sides, head rolling, just about to enter the starters block, that's the feeling I get every time, complete excitement mixed with nervous anticipation.
I grip my implement the way I've been shown like a delicate pen, spinning the barrel till I see the bevel of the needle catch a glint of light and it sparkles almost like an eye winking at me.
Vein ready, check. Bevel up, check. Angle ok, check. Grip ok, check. Two fingers on plunger to jack back, check. It's time.
I slowly inch the needle point closer to my favourite insertion point as I see the needle break the skin and enter my vein. I feel a slight pin prick but it is slightly delayed, almost like watching a pirated movie where the audio and video don't match and are not in synch.
I pull back gently on the plunger, and to my delight a dark red splash of colour enters the barrel in a swirling motion. I get an instant wave of relief that washes over my entire body and begin to relax now that I'm successfully plugged into my life-giving oxygen network.
There's only one thing left to do. The steady push.
