I awoke at 4am. My GHB bottle was completely empty. All I had was a small amount of crystal meth. The speediness of GHB's dopamine rebound had taken over. I was in no state of anxiety, but I wanted to be high. The meth lifestyle was already beginning to take over.
I wanted to be high.
I set my phone down. My sex drive had diminished. My music of choice was Mindless Self Indulgence. I broke down the crystal into 4 small lines. It crackled. The crystals seemed extremely easy to crush, as if they were made of a thin plastic material.
*phhht* Line 1
4:30 - Methamphetamine. The devil's drug. Its smoothness. It caresses a user into a state of manic euphoria. It gently sets them down. It ends. The user can choose to take more or sleep.
The effects were not enough. I felt myself begin to have the smooth concentration that meth bestows. It was not enough.
*phhht* Another line.
*phht* Line 3.
5:00 - My hands began to shake uncontrollably as I felt myself begin to give into a train of thought that raced at 100 miles per hour. I was no virgin to panic attacks, however the thing about panic attacks is that they seem different and "New" every time. This is not a good thing.
Somewhere deep down I felt that the 4th line would cure my anxiety. I felt as if meth was the end-all-beat all drug and that simply taking more could end my anxious paranoia.
....
....
*phhhhttt* Line 4.
6:00 - My heart was beating faster and faster, my breathing was uncontrollable as I had no way to solve or figure out how to end this panic; I searched frantically for more GHB, but it was all gone. Sipped up, licked up, the GHB was no where. I searched everywhere online for differences between panic attacks and heart attacks;
How would I know if I was going to die? If I seize up, who will save me? How do I make this end?!
What am I doing? I need to go to the hospital. I will have a heart attack if my heart continues to beat faster.
It only continued to progress to a higher level of hell and each hour passed by in a way like waiting for the grim reaper to finally take my life.
A panic attack is simply like having a staring contest with death.
8:00 - My vision was going blurry, I could not get my arm away from the heart rate and blood pressure monitor as the soft expansion of the blood pressure reader seemed to make my left arm feel as if it were going numb which made no justice to my condition. At this point I began to drive.
8:20 - My chest was hurting. My left arm began to feel "tingy" and in my panicked state of mind it felt numb. It was time to visit an emergency clinic.
The world was in a shade of grey, but vivid. My mind was in shock. It continued to tell me, that I would not live tomorrow.
"Hello, can I get your name, address and insurance information on this sheet of paper?" the front door person asked in a calm voice.
"Hi." I ejaculated with desperate tone, "My chest hurts and my left arm is going numb. I don't know what to do."
At this point all I wanted was to live. Live to see another day and never touch meth again. Tell my mother how much I love her.
9:30 - An EKG was run. My heart rate had gotten to a dangerously high level. My blood pressure as well. The hospital heart rate monitor was making a "warning" sound every 30 seconds. I felt foolish. Educated, accomplished doctors were helping me. I was Junkie trash.
I explained that I had been using methamphetamine to help me study. The GHB was to help me sleep and for muscle building purposes. The doctors seemed unimpressed with my decisions, however I feel as if I was treated relatively well despite the circumstances of me being there.
10:30 - This nurse changed my life.
"Please. Don't do it again." she stated in a depressed manner, "I'm raising three kids, because of that."
I was surprised, she did not look like a meth user.
"You did it?" I asked
"No. My boyfriend did."
Then she said something that would stick with me for a long time.
"He was a little older than you. He had scholarships and a successful college life. He was fixing to move on to get a career... At first he was using meth to study once a month... Then once a week until it finally got control of him. Now he's nothing but a worthless junkie. It's all gone because of his drug use."
I sat in the bed for a moment. My mind was in a state of panic. It wanted to escape the situation, but what she said had broken through the fight or flight response. It was so powerful. The story. The situation. I had been living in. A ruse. My knowledge of substance use was in no way going to save me from a hard drug addiction. The path I had gone down was leading to this moment.
Lorazepam injection was not nearly enough, but enough to get me into class later that day.
Panic attacks lasted from (6AM -> 11PM)
Conclusion.
I understand that the dopamine rebound of GHB had obviously potentiated the panic effects of a stimulant. I am currently trying to figure out why I, specifically, am so prone to panic attacks.
The meth would not have killed me, however if I had not gone to the hospital and then met the specific nurse that believed in me, it would have killed the person I was going to become.
Never let a drug control your lifestyle bluelight.
I wanted to be high.
I set my phone down. My sex drive had diminished. My music of choice was Mindless Self Indulgence. I broke down the crystal into 4 small lines. It crackled. The crystals seemed extremely easy to crush, as if they were made of a thin plastic material.
*phhht* Line 1
4:30 - Methamphetamine. The devil's drug. Its smoothness. It caresses a user into a state of manic euphoria. It gently sets them down. It ends. The user can choose to take more or sleep.
The effects were not enough. I felt myself begin to have the smooth concentration that meth bestows. It was not enough.
*phhht* Another line.
*phht* Line 3.
5:00 - My hands began to shake uncontrollably as I felt myself begin to give into a train of thought that raced at 100 miles per hour. I was no virgin to panic attacks, however the thing about panic attacks is that they seem different and "New" every time. This is not a good thing.
Somewhere deep down I felt that the 4th line would cure my anxiety. I felt as if meth was the end-all-beat all drug and that simply taking more could end my anxious paranoia.
....
....
*phhhhttt* Line 4.
6:00 - My heart was beating faster and faster, my breathing was uncontrollable as I had no way to solve or figure out how to end this panic; I searched frantically for more GHB, but it was all gone. Sipped up, licked up, the GHB was no where. I searched everywhere online for differences between panic attacks and heart attacks;
How would I know if I was going to die? If I seize up, who will save me? How do I make this end?!
What am I doing? I need to go to the hospital. I will have a heart attack if my heart continues to beat faster.
It only continued to progress to a higher level of hell and each hour passed by in a way like waiting for the grim reaper to finally take my life.
A panic attack is simply like having a staring contest with death.
8:00 - My vision was going blurry, I could not get my arm away from the heart rate and blood pressure monitor as the soft expansion of the blood pressure reader seemed to make my left arm feel as if it were going numb which made no justice to my condition. At this point I began to drive.
8:20 - My chest was hurting. My left arm began to feel "tingy" and in my panicked state of mind it felt numb. It was time to visit an emergency clinic.
The world was in a shade of grey, but vivid. My mind was in shock. It continued to tell me, that I would not live tomorrow.
"Hello, can I get your name, address and insurance information on this sheet of paper?" the front door person asked in a calm voice.
"Hi." I ejaculated with desperate tone, "My chest hurts and my left arm is going numb. I don't know what to do."
At this point all I wanted was to live. Live to see another day and never touch meth again. Tell my mother how much I love her.
9:30 - An EKG was run. My heart rate had gotten to a dangerously high level. My blood pressure as well. The hospital heart rate monitor was making a "warning" sound every 30 seconds. I felt foolish. Educated, accomplished doctors were helping me. I was Junkie trash.
I explained that I had been using methamphetamine to help me study. The GHB was to help me sleep and for muscle building purposes. The doctors seemed unimpressed with my decisions, however I feel as if I was treated relatively well despite the circumstances of me being there.
10:30 - This nurse changed my life.
"Please. Don't do it again." she stated in a depressed manner, "I'm raising three kids, because of that."
I was surprised, she did not look like a meth user.
"You did it?" I asked
"No. My boyfriend did."
Then she said something that would stick with me for a long time.
"He was a little older than you. He had scholarships and a successful college life. He was fixing to move on to get a career... At first he was using meth to study once a month... Then once a week until it finally got control of him. Now he's nothing but a worthless junkie. It's all gone because of his drug use."
I sat in the bed for a moment. My mind was in a state of panic. It wanted to escape the situation, but what she said had broken through the fight or flight response. It was so powerful. The story. The situation. I had been living in. A ruse. My knowledge of substance use was in no way going to save me from a hard drug addiction. The path I had gone down was leading to this moment.
Lorazepam injection was not nearly enough, but enough to get me into class later that day.
Panic attacks lasted from (6AM -> 11PM)
Conclusion.
I understand that the dopamine rebound of GHB had obviously potentiated the panic effects of a stimulant. I am currently trying to figure out why I, specifically, am so prone to panic attacks.
The meth would not have killed me, however if I had not gone to the hospital and then met the specific nurse that believed in me, it would have killed the person I was going to become.
Never let a drug control your lifestyle bluelight.
