Where Wolf?
Bluelighter
I am a lost dog. 36-years old, male but pretty much asexual after the collapse of my engagement in December last year. I got quacks to prescribe me oxy and xanax, after 6 months of freguent-daily benzo and opiate use, part-recreational, but also to numb myself from chronic migraine attacks: and partly because of lifelong depression and anxiety that have been getting worse in recent years.
I kiicked the opis 6 weeks ago - with two one-day relapses to high doses of PPT, both in the past 5 days, punctuated by days of heavy drinking. I'd had two brief habits last year - oral morph/oxy/hydro and fent patches - but this year lost all semblance of control. I started fucking up at work, said yes to an offer of H - which I haven't touched in years - and had the proverbial 'moment of clarity', cancelled the order, deleted a lot of numbers and a couple of email accounts, cutting myself off from sources of supply for anything but weed, in which I've lost interest after years of heavy smoking: now it just makes me binge-eat and feel worse.
For the third time in a year, I tapered with Mscontins, then codeine and kratom, alternating with loperamide and cut my benzo intake from 4-6 mgs of Xanax a day pllus etizolam and temazeoam, to 25-30 mgs diazepam a day. Got scripted enough to taper (well, not exactly scripted), but I've been stuck at this level for about a month. Lately I've been losing track, and probably am back up to 30. I don't have the money for private rehab, and state options are a joke.
I was in better shape, day-to-day, on the painkillers and higher benzo doses - life since tapering off the contins has been one long panic attack. It's like there's not a single endorphin in my brain: NOTHING feels good any more, I'm in danger of losing my job, owe thousands, and though I do have friends and family members who love me, I haven't really begun to recover from the break-up, my ex cut off all contact (and, in retrospect, exploited me financially),and I've been in a very dark place. It was a whirlwind courtship - everything was perfect for a while- then we fell apart in a couple of weeks in December. On Friday it'll be a year since we got together, and I kinda wish I was in a nice, peaceful coma. I need, urgently, to get moving - to save what remains of my career and tackle some debts before they eat me alive - but it feels like it's all I can do to just keep breathing.
Today, pod grinds and tea saw me through the latest panic attack/suicidal urge, but I'm months behind at work, and have been incapable of doing anything but tread water, remaining outwardly functional while getting next-to-nothing done. I hate my job, my shithole apartment, and the pointless, never-ending depression and addiction that have been my real career since I was 14 I feel trapped, inadequate, full of regret and anger, and talking to friends/docs/myself/the wall hasn't helped. I've lost all interest in sex, which is probably for the best, as I'm not real attractive in this state of mind. And I am FIENDING for a fat, euphoric dose of hydro, which, for better and worse, is not available where I live. I'm furious at my ex, but also miss her badly: she stopped answering emails months ago, and I know, from experience, that I have to accept her silence. There's no point trying to force contact, even though I'd love to know how she's doing - and wtf happened to us? But she turned vicious at the end, has health problems and obviously doesn't give a shit.
I'll stop here, because I've been posting the same dreary story in another thread: right now, TDS and a couple of friends and relatives are kinda all I got, and I keep fantasising of escape - new name, new life, no memories of the past. Of course, that's not so easy to arrange, and I don't have anywhere to go or any money.
Sorry for the long post: and my sympathy/empathy to all who struggle with depression, addiction, anxiety, bereavement, guilt, regret, and all the other aspects of the human condition which bring us to the dark side, on- and off-line.
'So I am going down to nowhere, with the dropouts and the bums,
a soldier of the vacuum, when the darkness comes,
I'm a vaudeville comedian, in a theater of bones
and it's a laugh a minute, when nowhere is your home.'
- Thea Gilmore.
I kiicked the opis 6 weeks ago - with two one-day relapses to high doses of PPT, both in the past 5 days, punctuated by days of heavy drinking. I'd had two brief habits last year - oral morph/oxy/hydro and fent patches - but this year lost all semblance of control. I started fucking up at work, said yes to an offer of H - which I haven't touched in years - and had the proverbial 'moment of clarity', cancelled the order, deleted a lot of numbers and a couple of email accounts, cutting myself off from sources of supply for anything but weed, in which I've lost interest after years of heavy smoking: now it just makes me binge-eat and feel worse.
For the third time in a year, I tapered with Mscontins, then codeine and kratom, alternating with loperamide and cut my benzo intake from 4-6 mgs of Xanax a day pllus etizolam and temazeoam, to 25-30 mgs diazepam a day. Got scripted enough to taper (well, not exactly scripted), but I've been stuck at this level for about a month. Lately I've been losing track, and probably am back up to 30. I don't have the money for private rehab, and state options are a joke.
I was in better shape, day-to-day, on the painkillers and higher benzo doses - life since tapering off the contins has been one long panic attack. It's like there's not a single endorphin in my brain: NOTHING feels good any more, I'm in danger of losing my job, owe thousands, and though I do have friends and family members who love me, I haven't really begun to recover from the break-up, my ex cut off all contact (and, in retrospect, exploited me financially),and I've been in a very dark place. It was a whirlwind courtship - everything was perfect for a while- then we fell apart in a couple of weeks in December. On Friday it'll be a year since we got together, and I kinda wish I was in a nice, peaceful coma. I need, urgently, to get moving - to save what remains of my career and tackle some debts before they eat me alive - but it feels like it's all I can do to just keep breathing.
Today, pod grinds and tea saw me through the latest panic attack/suicidal urge, but I'm months behind at work, and have been incapable of doing anything but tread water, remaining outwardly functional while getting next-to-nothing done. I hate my job, my shithole apartment, and the pointless, never-ending depression and addiction that have been my real career since I was 14 I feel trapped, inadequate, full of regret and anger, and talking to friends/docs/myself/the wall hasn't helped. I've lost all interest in sex, which is probably for the best, as I'm not real attractive in this state of mind. And I am FIENDING for a fat, euphoric dose of hydro, which, for better and worse, is not available where I live. I'm furious at my ex, but also miss her badly: she stopped answering emails months ago, and I know, from experience, that I have to accept her silence. There's no point trying to force contact, even though I'd love to know how she's doing - and wtf happened to us? But she turned vicious at the end, has health problems and obviously doesn't give a shit.
I'll stop here, because I've been posting the same dreary story in another thread: right now, TDS and a couple of friends and relatives are kinda all I got, and I keep fantasising of escape - new name, new life, no memories of the past. Of course, that's not so easy to arrange, and I don't have anywhere to go or any money.
Sorry for the long post: and my sympathy/empathy to all who struggle with depression, addiction, anxiety, bereavement, guilt, regret, and all the other aspects of the human condition which bring us to the dark side, on- and off-line.
'So I am going down to nowhere, with the dropouts and the bums,
a soldier of the vacuum, when the darkness comes,
I'm a vaudeville comedian, in a theater of bones
and it's a laugh a minute, when nowhere is your home.'
- Thea Gilmore.
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