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  • Trip Reports Moderator: Xorkoth

(Methamphetamine [IV/oral]) Junky Fiend - 262,992 Hours: Diagnosis; and, Thrombosis

I never said I was going to quit permanently. The Guy who took 3.2 grams of DXM is engaged in far more dangerous behaviour, yet people aren't telling him to quit... ? Give it a rest people. You're preaching to a wall.
 
I used to believe I was immortal. Every time I should have overdosed or died, the universe divided itself in two. I continue to exist in both of them. Dead, and alive.

So if someone were to shoot you in the brain stem, perfect kill shot, the you here would die, and another you in another dimension would go on living? Or no, you said that YOU are immortal, so some you that is not the present, this dimension you would die, and you would go on living. Presumably something would go wrong every time you pulled the trigger, perhaps the gun fires but your brain stem has been emaciated from using and you suffer less than a fatal blow etc. Who knows.

So. You either truly believe in this theory, or you do not.

If you truly believed this theory, putting a loaded gun to your head and pulling the trigger (the final, unequivocal test of your theory) would be as casual an affair as ordering a pizza. You cannot die.

You have not put a loaded gun to your head and pulled the trigger, therefore, you do not firmly, with every fiber of your being, believe this theory is actually true. By not putting this theory to a very simple test, you show that you are preserving the possibility that it does not in fact reflect actual reality, but is a mechanism in your mind for coping with/interacting with reality.

But again, the theory is either true, or not true. Your statement is that it is true, but your actual belief (shown by your actions i.e. not blowing your brains out to see if you remain immortal) is that it is not true.

Therefore, you believe that it is not true, but intellectually state that it true is as a mechanism to allow you to continue doing things which you are certain are very bad for you, but which you enjoy doing nonetheless.

**I am obviously not condoning, or suggesting that you put a loaded gun to your head and pull the trigger, you, the actual real you, will die if you do this.

There, did i unfuckulate your multiverse theory for you? Haha, i recently watched seasons 1-3 of that show Sliders which is all about paralell dimensions and this kind of thing. I had to throw in my 2¢.
 
NomNomNom,

Our decisions influence how we perceive reality, like a Choose Your Own Adventure book. The act of observation has been proven to alter the outcome of scientific experiments. (See: Schrodinger's Cat & the Double Slit experiment.) Every time we make a decision, we are capable of making many other decisions. Trees are directed by sunlight. Water obeys gravity. Cliffs erode. There is no conscious intervention. The predetermined is not challenged by free will. Consciousness cause the universe to branch off into multiple universes.

We are offered the contents of one of three mysterious boxes. We open all three. Consequently, we split into three different versions of ourselves. The first box me, the second box me, and the third box me.

Say a decision is made that has a 50% chance of resulting in instant death. Upon making this decision, we split into two versions of us. One of them, dead. The other, alive. Our consciousness does not exist in the dead branch. The universe splits, but we do not split. Given no other option, we remain alive.

This doesn't work if there is no chance of survival. I provided the example of someone diving headfirst into the mouth of an active volcano. You mentioned shooting yourself through the head. Neither of these scenarios are likely to leave anyone - in any parallel universe - alive. An infinite universe does not imply that anything is possible. While it is technically possible for a gun to misfire, it is unlikely. If you fire a brand-new, fully-loaded revolver into your temple: you're going to die. The immortal multi-verse theory only applies to situations in which survival is possible.

I probably didn't explain it very clearly.

(Sliders is kind of ridiculous.)
 
Great read, made me cringe sometimes because you go way over board. It's not all about your veins mate, when people say maybe you should quit.. They mean meth takes a serious mental toll on you, i don't care if you are already psychotic. What kind of excuse is that, you trying to see how far you can go with the psych episode. Your shooting straight chemical into your blood stream, for 30 days at a time raping your dopamine neurons. I just read the part, preaching to a wall. All right i'm off that, just use if you want but don't binge!
 
Having been a highly-functioning un-medicated psychotic for my entire life, I have a high tolerance for psychological pain. I am completely at peace with psychosis. It does not scare me. There is no mental toll. Psychosis is beautiful. I am sharp as a tack. I'm not heading towards a psych-ward. Same goes for acid and mushrooms. I have out-tripped everyone I have ever known without consequences. I see people losing their minds and getting sectioned. I have no psychological limits.

I am immortal, and I'll binge if I damn-well please!
 
long term neurotoxicity, not so good

speaking as a former speed fiend it takes a long time to recover from the kind of use you display
 
How old are you pofaced?

I have noticed no decline in my cognitive abilities, over thirteen years. I can effortlessly achieve straight High Distinctions at University. I can beat most people I encounter in debate. My maths skills haven't declined from back when I studied Applied Science. I have a relatively good understanding of quantum physics, philosophy and literature.

Maybe you overdid it. Maybe you're more vulnerable to neurotoxicity.

I have found a balance, that suits me. I know my limits. I will take the necessary time to recover. The reason I ask how old you are is: I doubt you're older than me. As it says in the report, I'm thirty. I've been doing this for thirteen years. So, I'm not sure why people who've been doing it less long than I have - people who are younger than me - are telling me about long-term consequences.

If you seriously fucked up your cognitive abilities with drugs, that's too bad. I'm sorry that happened. Seriously, I am.

Doesn't mean it's going to happen to me, though.

:)
 
how often do you go for maybe 6 months without any form of amphetamine. when you're using it on and off its hard to tell what damage it did..

i never said speed made you stupid as it hasn't done that to me, but a general malaise and lack of pleasure/anxiety resulting from abuse does exist. after 13 years if you stopped for one whole year you might then see how it has fucked you up. easy to be quick and sharp when on meth all the time.

i haven't used amphetamine as much or for as long as you (2 years of on off daily addiction/sporadic binges) but it does damage you in ways you don't see until you are free from it for a long time and look back and go- oh shit, that was a destructive and negative mental state...
 
Yeah, dude, I have taken a year long break before. More than once. If you're noticing long-term effects of meth use after 2 years, then you're overdoing it. Everybody's different as far as how much shit they can handle. I had a six month break recently, from around September 2011 to April/May 2012. As I said, I know my limits. I have a certain amount of amp use that I can get away with in a year. This year, I'm reaching the limit. I prefer to binge. Like a chipmunk collecting nuts and starving itself all winter before one almighty feast. Going to start back on the psychedelics next week, give myself a break from meth. Maybe go back on morphine for a while. Honestly, I'm getting bored with meth. I've been charging so long, I need to lie down for a week and just fucking vegetate. Looking forward to some opiates and dissociatives for a change. Got to munch that Amanita Muscaria too. People who take heroin all the time, and nothing else. Or speed. Or acid. They do themselves more damage than junkies. Junk is, as far as I'm concerned, anything I can find to fuck me up. It's healthier, based on that definition of junk, to be a junky than it is to be an acid freak or a amphetamine fiend. I love all drugs, which keeps me from becoming hopelessly addicted to any of them. Been craving mushrooms all day. But I don't think they'd combine well with the coke/meth combination I'm on at the moment. Down to my last rock of meth, and I'm not going to buy any more. When the coke runs out, I'll move on to psychs and downers. I have a system. It never fails me. I am immortal.
 
Nice to read some novel and fairly well crafted drug steeped writing here, most enjoyed it. On a detached level, as entertainment, stellar, and better you than me. But it sad and pretty run of the mill blasé in terms of all the ridiculous justification and deluded ego pumping going on. So, you are an immortal superhero immune to the demonstrated harm with continuous meth binging? Yeah you and every other tweaker on the upside of the hill. The content of these posts proves quite the contrary. Yawn. Give yourself a break man, the proof is in the pudding.
 
My intention is to be honest. In a workshop, somebody recently criticized my non-fiction as arrogant. My response was, "I am arrogant. To pretend otherwise, would be a lie." Everybody liked what I had written. I think I can draft it until it's publishable. Yet, they thought the narrator, me, had to be likable. Like I had to present myself in a certain way. As if I was selling a fucking car or something.

Writing the truth is difficult when you're writing about your own denial. I am writing about addiction. Addiction is denial. I must not allow the writer to interfere with the subject. I have to know and not know simultaneously. Psychosis helps. The delusion is self-induced, so it can be turned on and off at will. I'm used to manipulating my psyche. I believe I am immortal, when I need to.

So, you are an immortal superhero immune to the demonstrated harm with continuous meth binging? Yeah you and every other tweaker

Right. I am writing about being meth, and the immortal superhero is part of that world. I could write clinical trip reports, like people do:

+1:00 mild cevs, heart rate increased
+1:30 nearing peak, strong cevs, mild oevs

But I don't see the point. I'm trying to be honest about drugs. Not so much because I think it serves a function in terms of harm reduction - though, I'm sure it does - rather, because I have an obsessive need to find truth. To be honest. To confess.

"I am immortal," is part of my confession.

If you read it and conclude that the tweaker is deranged. If my description of meth addiction does not inspire you to smoke a rock, then mission accomplished. Because you should not. Nobody should ever shoot meth. It's incredibly destructive. And it's way too good. I don't like meth any other way now. There's no going back.

A lot of drug forums don't expose the harsh realities of extreme hard-drug use. You read trip reports, and other comments, like "Did a gram of meth in 24 hours. Fucking crazy night," or - more critically - "I used to slam heroin. Glad I stopped."

These words. They don't discourage people. Young drug users come onto these forums and glance around. If they read the wrong posts, they might conclude that meth is okay. Or heroin. They might think it's cool. I make no effort to make the junky cool. My confessions are sad and depraved, intentionally. I am totally comfortable with junk. I am not ashamed to be a hypocrite. Whatever you say to me, I already know it. I have not repressed anything about myself, permanently.

I switch back and forth between junky and documentary maker. I have to do this, because I am a writer. Trip reports are a great way to exercise honesty. To push the boundaries of shame. What I'm willing to admit about myself.

I like being told that I'm arrogant and that I'm a hypocrite. Because the writer needs to know.

The junky, on the other hand, he ain't listening. And he never will.
 
ok...in that case can i tell the writer that the cats deserve better ? Without sounding too much like a twat ? :)
 
Yeah, but if you knew me you wouldn't say that. They're actually quite spoiled.

I give my cats entire roast chickens. They eat T-Bone steaks and sashimi grade Atlantic salmon. I sleep with them. They follow me around the house, and down the street. They run through traffic, across four lane roads. They follow me for kilometers. They purr constantly. When they were kittens, I carried them around everywhere. They sat in my pocket. I took them on buses and into shops. I may not change their litter box enough, but they're not starving. They receive more love than most of domesticated animals could ever dream of. I pat all three of them every day. Sometimes I'll get really high and forget to feed them for 48 hours, but cats are designed for prolonged periods of fasting. Wildcats, and their domestic descendants, can go for two or three weeks without food. My cats might go for two or three days, but most of the time they eat like kings. In fact, I'd say they often eat better food than the average Australian citizen. I prioritize their diet over my own, insane as that might sounds. If I only have enough money for one of us to eat, it will always be them. Because they're innocent, and it's not fair to deprive them of food. Just because I don't look after myself, doesn't mean you can conclude that I neglect them. A couple of other people in this thread have said the same thing, or implied it. I'm all for honesty. Say what you want. But, what you say is not necessarily the truth. As a kid would you rather have been loved or had clean clothes? My cats have got fleas at the moment. But wildcats naturally have fleas. All wild animals have parasites. Most pet owners do what is socially acceptable, over what really matters to the animal. We project human values onto the animal kingdom. We assume they have the same requirements for happiness as us.

Without me, in their natural state, my cats would go for days without food. And they would forever be battling infection, weather and parasites. In their natural state, they would die starving and cold. Imposing human values on nature, we call that "struggling" to survive. My cats don't "struggle". If they're not sleeping on top of me, they sleep beside one of the many heaters in my house. If they get sick, I take them to a vet. It's expensive looking after three animals. But, I don't buy them cheap food. I don't consider them pets. I respect them. I have raised them from tiny kittens that could fit in my hand, never for one day losing sight of the fact that they are awesome. I do not take them for granted.

They don't "deserve" any better than nature. They don't "deserve" sashimi. They "deserve" to die in the cold. I am far more than they "deserve". Nature is cruel. They are lucky to have me. They are lucky they are not strays. They are lucky they don't belong to someone else, who feeds them and changes their litter like clockwork, but treats them like an object and shows them no love. Or a dog, that's kept outside in a small yard. Surrounded by a fence. Who's owners walk him for half an hour a day, because they have to. And feed him, and keep him clean. So people don't judge them. Who, for the remaining 23 and a half hours a day, remains imprisoned by the fence-line. If you were a domesticated cat, you'd be lucky to get me. Like winning the fucking lottery lucky. One of my cats is so in love with me, she follows me everywhere. I can put her on my shoulder, and walk around for hours. She'll balance herself there, like a parrot. She'll fall asleep, purring on my shoulder, while I'm walking around. Sometimes I find another one waiting for me down the end of the road, when I come back from work. He knows my schedule. Upon seeing me get off the tram, he runs full speed and rubs up against my leg. Then he zigzags between my legs all the way home.

As I said, if you knew me you wouldn't tell me my cats deserve better.

The fact that you don't know me, however, does not make you a twat.
 
Just because I don't look after myself, doesn't mean you can conclude that I neglect them.

naah...
it wasn't like that. I was in two minds about commenting, and had only glanced through the replies. I didnt want to join a pecking party, but I'm also a cat lover so my comment came from a good place.
Its just the second time you've mentioned the litter tray in a trip report....and well, as you say, i dont know you...
I probably could've worded it better, but I was pushed for time, I was trying to avoid sounding judgemental.
Your reply made me smile.... I should probably shut up now =-]
 
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man, theres something about your writing, i always like it and at the same time i hate the way it makes me feel. its quite emotional, you see, this honesty you so streightforwardly put in. sometimes i hate you for the things you do to your self, and at the same time i have immense respect for using your talent for putting it on paper.
while i cant relate to a lot of your activities, it also from a somewhat familiar place, not coming from a fellow drug user, but as a human being. theres something disturbingly human about your abuse, about your rationale, about your ego.
 
His brain is pouring out dopamine like a firework show, of course his ego is gonna be high : P
 
Although I may have delusions, regarding my mortality, I don't think this report indicates an inflated ego. I refer to myself, throughout, as a junky. Confused, paranoid, unhygienic, perverted, depraved. I think, given king's comments on other non-amphetamine trip reports, he was referring to my writing style in general. My voice is consistent, more or less, with trip reports on other substances. Dopamine doesn't make you dishonest. It allows you to bend reality, but you don't have to.

People deny the long-term effects of smoking cigarettes and drinking alcohol. You can smoke a pack of cigarettes a day for ten years and tell yourself that it's not going to do you any harm. That you'll quit before it does. Slamming junk into your veins four or five times a day is the extreme of this. In a year you can collapse your veins. You can have lumps and infections under your skin. Inflamed veins. Heart palpitations. Permanently blood shot eyes. Reduced circulation in your limbs. Numbness in your fingertips. And still, you say to yourself, "I'll stop before it does me any harm." As I said, I'm writing about addiction, and denial, so there has to be a certain amount of reality bending. Immortality is essential for the addict.

I haven't had any meth for 48 hours. Nor alcohol. Got a little rock of meth left, and half a gram of coke. Been tripping on DXM and mushrooms.

Freud said:
The ego acts according to the reality principle; i.e. it seeks to please the id’s drive in realistic ways that will benefit in the long term rather than bring grief.

My ego has been repressed. It returns in full force with the mushrooms.

I'm just being honest. Call it an inflated ego if you want. I call it addiction.
 
Perhaps it's my ability to relate to this trip report, but this is a great work of contemporary writing.

This piece demonstrate an ability to convey a life style of long term meth use with mixtures of both neutrality and negative. Never over the edge. The author has taken a fast ride he is trying to escape from. He loathes the life style as it continues to take him in a direction in which society despises.

The sentence structuring, use of repetition and "bluntness" are excellent. The layering of the OP worrying about his hands and the sub-neutral tone of his life make for a constant build-up and release. I believe the structure hits a depth that not even a "professional" writer can achieve.

Pieces like this should be published. For quality alone. If I live in a world where people cannot enjoy a good piece of literature; if I live in a world where the populaces' closed mindedness has lead them to cater toward horrifying drug stories, then perhaps the OP is not the crazy one for being addicted to speed.
 
NomNomNom,

Our decisions influence how we perceive reality, like a Choose Your Own Adventure book. The act of observation has been proven to alter the outcome of scientific experiments. (See: Schrodinger's Cat & the Double Slit experiment.) Every time we make a decision, we are capable of making many other decisions. Trees are directed by sunlight. Water obeys gravity. Cliffs erode. There is no conscious intervention. The predetermined is not challenged by free will. Consciousness cause the universe to branch off into multiple universes.

We are offered the contents of one of three mysterious boxes. We open all three. Consequently, we split into three different versions of ourselves. The first box me, the second box me, and the third box me.

Say a decision is made that has a 50% chance of resulting in instant death. Upon making this decision, we split into two versions of us. One of them, dead. The other, alive. Our consciousness does not exist in the dead branch. The universe splits, but we do not split. Given no other option, we remain alive.

This doesn't work if there is no chance of survival. I provided the example of someone diving headfirst into the mouth of an active volcano. You mentioned shooting yourself through the head. Neither of these scenarios are likely to leave anyone - in any parallel universe - alive. An infinite universe does not imply that anything is possible. While it is technically possible for a gun to misfire, it is unlikely. If you fire a brand-new, fully-loaded revolver into your temple: you're going to die. The immortal multi-verse theory only applies to situations in which survival is possible.

I probably didn't explain it very clearly.

(Sliders is kind of ridiculous.)

Word.

Skimming this thread i see you mentioned taking a year break here and there, which is good. I guess the only reason i responded was because from the vibe i got from your post is that you're a really smart kid, hellbent on self destruction, aware that this is the case, but always coming up with far reaching rationalizations/justifications to perpetuate the cycle.

I guess if the multiverse theory holds, and you believe it, you have to accept that perhaps the branch of reality where you never die but progressively damage your body and brain and live with the consequences is actually the WORST possible reality. A quick and relatively painless death would be preferable to marching forward with the stains of X years of meth use on your body. But i get the sense that you know this. And yeah, Sliders is turrible.
 
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