I'm typing this after only reading over a few of the posts on the first page, this is my first post, so I'm hoping I'm doing this correctly. Also, I so ramble-type, so don't feel obligated to read it, but do feel free to PM me if you're pissed off at what I say, or just want to talk.
My name is bearded, and I am an addict. My drug of choice...EVERYTHING pretty much, but mainly heroin. Where I live, once you get to that certain point of daily maintainence, everything else costs way too much. I'm currently 25 years old, and attend NA meetings atleast 3 times a week. Without boring you with my full-life story, my parents split up when I was in 5th grade and all the kids in the family stayed with mom.
That's when I found out she was an addict, so I slowly got into that lifestyle. In essence, it immediately became, "Oh, honey, you have a headache? Here, have one of these." It wasn't until later that I found out that they were pain killers (oxycodone, and eventually bits off those old school 40mg methadone wafers) she received for a car accident in which her spine was injured.
Guy after guy she dated was also an addict (1.alcohol/narcotics-deceased) (2.everything-imprisoned, presumably) (3.narcotics-assumed deceased or imprisoned) (4.alcohol/cocaine-still using) (5.alcohol/cocaine - no idea, I'm assuming he was imprisoned for violating a restraining order)
There were a few in between, but really short lasting once they figured out what was going on. I only bring them up because I didn't see my own father for a number of years after the divorce, so I was raised and taught the normal tricks of how things go down, how you make money, ect.
I'm not sure if this will be a trigger for anyone, but I'll write it anyways and either a mod or myself can edit it out if it is a trigger that bothers anyone, but it does tie in to my history. On one of my birthdays, sometime between 15-18, my present from my mother was a stem, some choy, some rock, and a lesson on how to smoke proper. She intentionally got together a bunch of noobs so she could teach me how to tell when someone did not know what they were doing, and then I'd steal their stem to get everything they missed.
Fast forward to January of 2010 (I think), my mother was planning on moving out of state with boyfriend #5, she gave me three days notice. The next day, they had a fight, she wasn't going. Skip a day, and it's moving day, no call from her, no call back, so I assume she is saying. That night, around 3.30 she calls and tells me she is on the road to move to ____. I was sleeping so it went to voicemail. I had no telephone number to reach her at, and I was totally hurt that I didn't even get a good bye.
Six months later, some random area code calls and leaves a voice mail, and she is staying in a women's shelter in ____. #5 got abusive, she got a TRO put on him, and he'd violated it twice. The phone the shelter had didn't do incoming, so she could only call me. I spoke with her a few times, and at that time I was clean (used poppy pods/tramadol to get myself through the worst of the dope sickness. She told me she was the same, so I talked to her every few days, until she relapsed. I told her at that point in my sobriety, I couldn't deal with anyone that I knew was using, so to call me when she was clean. I have not talked to her since then.
Rest of the family:
Mother's side:
- Her grandmother was an alcoholic, the nastiest old drunk ever
- Her mother is a total alcoholic
- Her brother, while he gets cluster headaches and receives narcotics for them, is certainly an alcoholic, and probably an addict
- Her sister has partied before, but doesn't seem to have that gene that makes us addicts need to get into everything
- Her father rarely drank before his operation, but after a quad-bypass, he's on so many many meds he can't drink. he also appears to lack the genes for addiction
My fathers side
-His father was an alcoholic, but gave it up well before I was born
-His mother is deceased, so no info.
-My father himself I believe was an alcoholic, as I have memories of him from when I was very young getting really drunk and being loud. He no longer drinks.
My family
-My younger sister, occasionally drinks, she is in college, extremely intelligent, and she has seen the worst of the family, so I'm going to say she doesn't have a problem, but she could carry the genes for it.
-My younger brother, same as me, younger by three years, totally an addict, drug of choice being opiates as well. Just left the methadone clinic 14 days ago, he's in bad shape.
-Older brother, for security reasons, I can't say what he's up to, but he totally lacks the gene, or has extreme willpower
-My girl (of 4 years), doesn't carry the gene. She can use one day, and be good for months.
So first question for anyone that cares to answer, is addiction genetic, environmental, or both? Obviously either way, I am an addict, but 2 out of 4 siblings not addicts is not bad.
Anyways, lets go to May 2011. I had blown through some five grand USD in two months (my girls student loan money), and she went and checked me into a 30 day rehab. The two weeks prior to going into rehab I started sampling MPDV, and I literally went insane. Super paranoid, blank spaces in time. I was convinced there was a tribe of people living in the woods behind my apartment, and that one broke into my utility closet (no outside access), and that I stabbed him. So I called the police, thinking I just stabbed this dude that could phase through walls. They showed up, there was this big scene, but my lady convinced them that I had just started a new medication and the side-effects would be stuff like that (which was half-true). Anyways, after that, rehab.
This was my first time going through any sort of institution (I'd been arrested a few times as a minor but never anything serious and never anything more than just getting processed and released. To be honest, because of the blackouts from MDPV, I only remember bits and pieces of the two weeks prior to rehab. I had been showing up to work acting all crazy, but doing my job; I'm told. Then I wake up two or three days later and I'm in rehab. Went through it all, learned about the fellowship and addiction, and I got out. I went to meetings every day from June to September, then I started to slip on attending.
November 4th 2011, I relapsed. I remember the day, not only because it is my clean date, but because of all the shit that follows:
I had picked up a small amount of brown and white (for my favourite kind of party) the night of November third. My intention was to use it after my lady went to sleep, just a taste. I didn't get a proper goodbye last time, so just this one last time Because I wasn't an addict, I did not believe that at rehab, and I didn't believe it at the time. I thought a 30 day stint in rehab and a handful of months clean all the sudden cured me of my addiction, or I had gotten a green lantern ring and suddenly gained super willpower and strength.
Regardless if I'm actually a green lantern or not (I'd totally be orange, Sinestro [yellow], or black, by the way), plans didn't work out. I fell asleep at the same time as my lady, but I woke up about ten minutes before she needed to get ready for work. Save the details about how I used, but she woke up to find me completely naked on the floor, unconscious, super low heart rate, and I was not breathing.
Lucky for me, on our second date we went to go visit my little brother, and found him overdosed in his room. I had opened his airway, and punch him in the cock as hard as a could (yes, this sometimes brings someone out of an overdose if they aren't in too deep, BUT YOU SHOULD STILL GET MEDICAL ATTENTION before you attempt anything).
So, she called 911, opened my airway, punched my junk like 20 times, and I started taking little gasps at random intervals, but she had to keep adjusting my airway to keep me breathing. Life changing experience, right? Here is where it gets totally fucked up. You remember when you start geeking and get super paranoid and hide shit in the most random of places? Well, I had done that before I went into rehab, and my father, my girl, and myself did our own individual checks of everything to make sure their is nothing in the house. We'll get back to that.
Paramedics showed up, with police. I'm dying, my partner has no clue I had picked up, and the police told her they can't let the paramedics into the house without clearing it first. For safety reasons. In her state of "HOLY SHIT THIS GUY I LOVE IS DYING," she agrees to it. Two days prior to all of this, I had an apartment inspection, so I know that nothing is in plain sight for a walk through...except this naked guy DYING over here.
Now, I don't smoke pot, I don't enjoy it, but I did own a bubbler. It was a friend of mine's, whose father gave it to him, and he had it hand made when he was in high school. So it was a sentimental piece, older than me by at least ten years. I always keep it behind a photo frame in an enclosed hutch sort of thing, so it is not visible. It's been there for 3 years, untouched except to show it off to someone, very rarely. So thats 12 apartment inspections over that time, 6 pest control guys coming in, and two visits from police, not to mention family. No one ever noticed it, because it WAS NOT visible.
Rambles. I never cleaned it, because all that resin that had built up from years of smoke had made it a fucking beautiful piece of glass. I guess that was my first mistake. So during their "safety" walkthrough, for which I'm not coherent or breathing, they somehow manage to see this pipe in what their police report says is "plain view," giving them cause to search the entire house. At this point they late the paramedics in, they give me Naloxone or whatever it is they give you (they had to use my inner wrist vein because my BP was so low they couldn't find anywhere else). They also blew out my vein in that spot, and sometimes I get a numbing sensation now.
They approximated that I was not breathing regularly for probably for four minutes (while my place was searched), and it took them almost as long to get the Naloxone in me (but by that time I was on a hand-pumped respirator). I don't really have any memory of any of that occuring except the medics letting me put on pants and a tshirt (in fucking winter), them wheeling me out and seeing my girl sitting there crying being question by the police.
I told them she had nothing to do with it, and if they had plans to arrest anyone, it should be me. I also told them I had a registered gun in the house, and it was in the closet. I kind of (honestly) nodded out to their response but it was something I think like "we aren't doing anything yet, but we haven't done a full search of the apartment yet" and then something about me not going with the paramedics would be going AMA since I could still potentially vomit into my lungs or something. Also, I didn't know it at the time, but they had given my Naloxone, which is in suboxone, and whenever Id take suboxone I had some sort of reaction to it, in regards to my heart.
So I set off to the hospital thinking at worst it'll be a paraphernalia charge, as soon as they hook me up to the EKG or EEG or whichever they use in that case, they notice my heart is randomly doing double beats or skipping beats or something. Uncomfortable. Having been under the influence, I had not noticed it, but I was getting that same chest pain I'd get when I'd take a suboxone.
They decided to keep me under observation for I think 5 or 6 hours, even though I was coherent, able to have conversations, but I think the entire heart thing worried them. It stopped after about an hour, but they kept a nurse in the room the entire time. By the time I was allowed to discharge, I called my girls work, she had called out. Fair enough. I called her cell. Straight to voicemail. I called my younger brother. He ignored me like usual. So I'm sitting at this hospital, no wallet, no shoes/socks/jacket, and no way to get home.
Eventually they found me some of those sweet grippy socks (which are useless during the winter but its better than barefoot), and as I'm getting dressed my girl calls me. Apparently when I went crazy in may I had squirreled away a stem, a few tabs of LSD, and a bunch of rcs. They also found two scales, and administration equipment (the works). So they had arrested her and processed her, I won't say her charges as that's not my place, but I think it goes without saying, the three days I could barely walk from her punching my junk while I was out doesn't nearly repay for all the shit I've put her through.
We are lucky enough to live in a county that does Pre-Trial Services, meaning if you have only misdemeanor offenses, and it's your first arrest, the county bonds you out of lockup, and you go do twice a week urinalysis until your court date. After that, depending on what your charges are, you get sentenced.
Again, luckily, our county has a program for first time drug offenders, an intervention program, which varies depending on your initial intake interviews and charges. It all seems completely random how they choose stuff for people, but I can't complain, neither of us are in lock-up. The one benefit to this program is that if you stay clean and follow their guidelines, a year from your enrollment date you can get your record expunged. Also, by dealing
with this program (if I say it you'll know where I live), is that you haven't been charged with anything.
All your charges are on whats called the STET docket. Basically instead of pleading guilty or not guilty and having that on your record, it's (atleast on my paperwork) written as PLEA - OTHER PLEA.
According to some website I just googled, the actual definition is
Stet Docket - Non-conviction: Will not prosecute at this time. Eligible to be re-opened for one year if a violation is committed during that time. After the one-year period and no violations have been committed, it cannot be re-opened and the case is closed.
So, that's a long as background huh? I've been typing this shit for like three hours, since I missed my noon NA meeting today. This board will be my release for today, so sorry for that.
As far as what's new, I've been sober since November 4th. I will say I haven't been completely sober, and anyone in NA will give me shit about it, but I'm on 2mg xanax for panic attacks (I have had three since my overdose, each time I though I was having a heart attack and went to the hospital and each time it was just anxiety. I have never taken more than I am prescribed, and I had never pulled any shit with the doctor to get more.
Anyways, my girl got charged, with everything I did plus one charge (which makes no sense), seeing as their reasoning behind charging her was that we are both on the lease. She was charged immediately, so she knew where everything was heading and enrolled in an intensive-out-patient immediately because her insurance covered it. So her conditions for the substance abuse program are to continue her IOP into just what they call combined care, so she meets with her out patient place once a week for two hours, and then just has to do urines twice a week at the substance abuse program and random urines at her combined care. She also got 24 hours community service, which if she does five hours a weekend for the next three weekends they'll count all her clean urines and let her out of her program a month early).
I didn't get so lucky. I'm unemployed, I was never physically arrested (I got paperwork in the mail saying to show up for a preliminary inquiry about a week after the incident), and then got a second court date, which I was given the substance abuse program as well, but I didn't enter it until 3/6. So from my clean date, there is no record of me being clean, only my word. I didn't start going to meetings again until the substance abuse program required it (they require two a week, I've been trying for 5 a week).
And now I'm in limbo with them. They sent me to Health Services to see if I could get a referral for an intensive-out-patient. I had an interview with three psychiatrists, and for once, they actually believed me that I've been clean. Your basic stuff, sponsorship in the fellowship, how has addiction affected you and yours, what do you know about addiction. I don't know if it scored any points, but I told them, "Look, I understand that I'm an addict, saying I've been clean since 11/4. The only record I really have of any clean time is my urines I've done since 3/6, so I'll do whatever program you guys want me to. It won't hurt me, only in finding a job."
Then they left, came back, and said, "We consulted with another doctor here, and you don't qualify for our CC, IOP, or normal OP." Then I was leaving, the one doctor that was a male told me, "You know, there is no record of you being clean since 11/4, but there also is no record of you using man. You sound like you're on the right track, keep it up, you're doing a good job."
Monday on my way to do my urine, I got a call from my Health Services case worker, and she found me an opiate users program, but I can't be on my xanax to be in. She didn't stress to me that it was urgent that I call and set up for medical detox, so I waited until Wednesday to call, and then called her to tell her that they told me to call back at 2:30. She bitched me out, said I was non-compliant with my court-ordered stuff, and then said she felt she should email my caseworker for my substance intervention program. Lucky for me, my caseworker remembered me telling her I have obligations this week, so it was not a huge deal for me. I called this morning and they didn't have a bed for me.
I'm in fucking limbo.
Other than that, I apologize for unloading all this confusing shit. I feel bad doing it at meetings because I can talk for an hour straight. For anyone trying to stay clean out there, I wish you the best of luck, whether you are attending any of the fellowships, Smart Recovery, or just doing it on your own. I'm sorry if I offended anyone by using triggers or anything like that, PM me with the exact offense and I'll edit it, or let a mod do it.
Additionally, I might get flak for this, but if you're in a fellowship, you don't have to believe everything they say. I am an atheist, so how can I surrender to my higher power when I do not believe in one? I've heard about your HP being a
Group
of
drunks/druggies, and after meeting some of the people in meetings, I wouldn't want the majority of them to be my higher power. Right now, maybe, my higher power is the chaotic nature of the universe. I don't pray to it. I also don't currently have a sponsor (I got offered Wednesday night), and I'm not doing step work, for now. Everyone is completely different, and the program works differently for everyone.
Personally I think what matters is that you show up to meetings, make friends with a few people that you can call if you get a trigger to use, and let them talk to you down from it. For me at least, just listening to other people's problems and the shit they've gone through makes it easier to relate to whats going on in my life. It could always be way worse.
And again, I'll delete this, but my personal beliefs on the fellowship are that you can still use and not be addicted. It's kind of backwards, nicotine, caffeine and sugar are some of the most addictive substances in the world, but they are allowed (depending on your sponsor).
Wiki defines addiction as
the continued use of a mood altering substance or behaviour despite adverse consequences.
. I may have a single beer once a week, am I addicted? I may have a tab of acid once a year, am I addicted? If I get high, once every two weeks, on payday, am I addicted? There are anti-depressents out there that alter your mood and you continue to take despite adverse consquences.
For me, I know what my drugs of choice are, and I know that when it comes to them, I am an addict. Once I start, I cannot stop. But when it comes to other things, I feel no desire to abuse them. I don't know, confusion. I fully support your right to put whatever substance you want into your body, safely. I'm done. This is my first post too.
nor do i want to start the SSRI...I'm going to be hitting the gym, using supplements like 5 htp, and maybe some st johns wort to see if that helps...and i will try the hydroxyzine to see if that helps at all. 
I too have found that psychiatrists are usually lacking on the compassionate side of things, that's what psychotherapists and counsellors are there for! 
Psychiatrists generally tend to be more clinical and focussed on prescribing meds to solve problems. I don't have any personal experience with hydroxyzine, or with using 5-HTP long-term for depression. I strongly advise you to discuss this with your regular doctor before you start taking either of those meds (if you haven't already), just to be on the safe side. I've been taking St Johns Wort daily since I stopped taking my latest anti-depressant Wellbutrin, and it seems to be really helping. It took a good 2-3 weeks to start having a good effect though. 
