SaosinEngaged
Bluelighter
- Joined
- Oct 25, 2010
- Messages
- 449
As a disclaimer of sorts, I'm well aware the general theme of this post has been recycled ad-naseum by almost everyone here, as it is a harm reduction site after all. However, I'd like to give a unique perspective on opiate addiction and why the only chance of avoiding it comes at the very beginning targeted at the opiate newb (who's most likely to come to this board first). Mods, please forgive me if this post is in the wrong forum, but the general sentiment of this account is 100% harm reduction in its most basic form. Also, this is likely going to be a wall of text, so bear with me.
Now, whether it's the mass media, over zealous anti-drug campaigns, or the largely intelligent userbase of Bluelight itself, you've probably heard this one phrase repeated: "Opiates are dangerous and can ruin your life, it's best not to start." While opiates are certainly imminently dangerous in that you can OD or endure a wide number of potentially serious side effects, in 90% (my guess) of instances, the real danger is what you're not thinking about the first few times you pop your Vicodin and nod off into oblivion; the addiction that you had no idea was coming.
I know what you're thinking, young opiate padawan. "I have a ton of willpower, I'm not going to get addicted. I know how to keep it recreational." It's almost ironic to say that we've ALL said that exact phrase at some point, "But no I'm serious, I've always had a lot of willpower and I think I can handle it." Well here's the kicker, I used to think the same thing. In fact, all throughout my life I was a glorified pussy. Scared to drink too much, scared of weed because it made me anxious (I used to think I was having heart attacks), for fucks sake, scared to take an advil because I thought I'd have an allergic reaction and die. I was like you pharmaceutical hypochondriac on steroids. I didn't touch ANYTHING.
But yet, I loved to have fun. I had a lot of friends in high school, a couple very close friends in college. I loved going out and meeting people, socializing, and most importantly experiencing the world. In my last years of college I made the decision to study abroad. Something to this day was the biggest dichotomy of my life; simultaneously being one of the best experiences of my life and the catalyst for my biggest downfall and ultimate undoing.
I went to Florence (Firenze), Italy for five months with a kid who was as dear as a brother to me. He was the fucking man and I indeed loved him as a brother. We literally did everything together, partied together, traveled together, brought girls home together, took the same classes together. It was amazing. The beauty of that country is unparalleled and the time we had was unforgettable. Then came this one night when the two of us, alone in our beautiful Florentine apartment, hadn't want to return to the local bars and clubs, nor do any sight seeing. We were burnt out, completely. My buddy Tom goes, "Hey man, I know what we'll do tonight." He rummages around his still half unpacked suitcase and pulls out a small prescription bottle. I look at him and go, "the fuck is that man?" Percocet. Oxycodone 5mg + 325mg APAP. It's the first I've ever seen it, and quite honestly because of my naivety, the first I'd even really heard of it. He goes, "Just take one, you'll feel amazing and we'll just chill tonight." I was like, "nah man, I'm not about that shit." So, being the close buddy of mine that he was, didn't force the issue and I watched him pop a couple and we threw on Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. About an hour into the movie, I noticed his pin point eyes, giddy expression, and this weird look about him where it almost seemed he was just slightly losing consciousness. I asked him if he was okay and he'd just replied, "I'm fucking perfect." At that point there was a definite spark of curiosity. Despite my hesitance, despite my willpower, despite my "goody two shoes" attitude towards drugs, I caved for the first time and said, "Fuck it."
So I popped one, and thirty minutes later experienced one of the most blissful sensations I've ever felt in my entire life. It was unlike anything I've ever known before, every iota of stress, pressure, anxiety, and discontent gave way to feelings of transcendental peace and happiness. It was one of the most profoundly awesome states of mind I'd ever had. The rest of the trip, I had only ever took one more of those lowly Percocets, but the seed in my mind had been planted. The change had occurred. No longer did I view "drugs" (in my naive mind I had lumped all drugs together as being some form of evil) as bad.
A few months later at home, I had been witnessing the unraveling of one of my closest and best friends (not Tom). He was hopelessly addicted to Oxycodone, which at the time I didn't even realize was the same actual drug I had taken on vacation. He was doing at least 500mg/day. I knew he needed help, and I was one of the instrumental forces in getting his ass into rehab. But before that had happened, he'd unloaded a pretty good quantity of 30mg Roxicodone pills on me, which he told me "was just a more powerful form of Percocet, but the same thing more or less."
Weeks and weeks passed, never touching the stuff but always thinking back to my experience abroad. I kept the shit tightly locked away while my buddy was doing his six month stint in a full on rehab program. Eventually, that curiosity got the best of me. The memory of how awesome that night was began invading my mind like an insidious parasite. Eventually I cracked, began researching this strange blue pill, and started breaking them up into smaller doses.
Just 7.5mg I thought, no big deal. Boom, right back into my blissful state of happiness. Amazing. Inspired. Perfect. It was my "weekend treat." What's wrong with a little unwinding, right? Then it became a weekend + Tuesday treat. Then a "long 4 day weekend treat." Slowly but surely, I began to take that dose daily. But never more that once a day, and always "responsibly" as I thought. I kept it a "special treat" for when I came home from work exceptionally stressed and my fiance was still hard at work. Believe it or not, because of the willpower I actually did have and my overpowering desire to not be an addict and knowledge of the danger, I was able to keep a 7.5/10mg dose of Oxycodone, once a day, for the better part of two years. Freely able to stop and take breaks here and there as needed. I can recall taking my fiancee on a wonderful vacation and not wanting to "smuggle pills." No problem, I just simply stopped taking them the day before. No worries, no issues.
Eventually someone won. Guess what? It wasn't me. It was that evil little bastard called Oxycodone, and the fight wasn't even close. Even though I held out for two full fucking years, keeping it recreational and light, eventually that 10mg dose turned into 30mg doses, twice, three times, four times a day. Then 60mg, 5, six times a day once in a while. No end in site, no understanding or plan for how I'm supposed to go on with my life without opiates. The insidious monster that opiates are eventually took control without me even knowing it. If you've read my words carefully, you'll know I had considered myself at one point almost anti-drug, and that I hadn't even been a pot smoker like every one of my friends.
Yes, recently I was hit by a drunk driver who destroyed my back, but all that came of that was even more access to Opiates further progressing and worsening my addiction. Now how the fuck am I supposed to stop when I basically have them thrown at me for 1/100th of what you pay on the streets?
Heed my warning. You may be the most intelligent, responsible, reasonable human being on planet earth. But that does NOT place you above the grasp of opiate addiction. It's insidious, discreet, uncontrollable, and unimaginably awful. It WILL happen if you keep telling yourself "I'm in control, just one more time, I'm in control." BEcause you're most certainly not in control, unless of course you're dosing once every month. The people I've known to be capable of doing that in my life now, as a veteran addict, I can count on one hand.
Please think carefully about my story if you're a drug newbie as I once was, and are thinking about "dabbling" in opiates. With opiates, there's no such thing as dabbling. Remember that.
Thank you for reading. It was quite cathartic for me to recount my long, hard road to opiate dependence and I hope, if even ONE person out there reads this and reconsiders what they're doing, well, I'll feel like at least some good has come from my addiction. (Mods, again if this is the incorrect forum for this please move where appropriate, but obviously this is aimed at the less experienced members which is why I posted it here).
Now, whether it's the mass media, over zealous anti-drug campaigns, or the largely intelligent userbase of Bluelight itself, you've probably heard this one phrase repeated: "Opiates are dangerous and can ruin your life, it's best not to start." While opiates are certainly imminently dangerous in that you can OD or endure a wide number of potentially serious side effects, in 90% (my guess) of instances, the real danger is what you're not thinking about the first few times you pop your Vicodin and nod off into oblivion; the addiction that you had no idea was coming.
I know what you're thinking, young opiate padawan. "I have a ton of willpower, I'm not going to get addicted. I know how to keep it recreational." It's almost ironic to say that we've ALL said that exact phrase at some point, "But no I'm serious, I've always had a lot of willpower and I think I can handle it." Well here's the kicker, I used to think the same thing. In fact, all throughout my life I was a glorified pussy. Scared to drink too much, scared of weed because it made me anxious (I used to think I was having heart attacks), for fucks sake, scared to take an advil because I thought I'd have an allergic reaction and die. I was like you pharmaceutical hypochondriac on steroids. I didn't touch ANYTHING.
But yet, I loved to have fun. I had a lot of friends in high school, a couple very close friends in college. I loved going out and meeting people, socializing, and most importantly experiencing the world. In my last years of college I made the decision to study abroad. Something to this day was the biggest dichotomy of my life; simultaneously being one of the best experiences of my life and the catalyst for my biggest downfall and ultimate undoing.
I went to Florence (Firenze), Italy for five months with a kid who was as dear as a brother to me. He was the fucking man and I indeed loved him as a brother. We literally did everything together, partied together, traveled together, brought girls home together, took the same classes together. It was amazing. The beauty of that country is unparalleled and the time we had was unforgettable. Then came this one night when the two of us, alone in our beautiful Florentine apartment, hadn't want to return to the local bars and clubs, nor do any sight seeing. We were burnt out, completely. My buddy Tom goes, "Hey man, I know what we'll do tonight." He rummages around his still half unpacked suitcase and pulls out a small prescription bottle. I look at him and go, "the fuck is that man?" Percocet. Oxycodone 5mg + 325mg APAP. It's the first I've ever seen it, and quite honestly because of my naivety, the first I'd even really heard of it. He goes, "Just take one, you'll feel amazing and we'll just chill tonight." I was like, "nah man, I'm not about that shit." So, being the close buddy of mine that he was, didn't force the issue and I watched him pop a couple and we threw on Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. About an hour into the movie, I noticed his pin point eyes, giddy expression, and this weird look about him where it almost seemed he was just slightly losing consciousness. I asked him if he was okay and he'd just replied, "I'm fucking perfect." At that point there was a definite spark of curiosity. Despite my hesitance, despite my willpower, despite my "goody two shoes" attitude towards drugs, I caved for the first time and said, "Fuck it."
So I popped one, and thirty minutes later experienced one of the most blissful sensations I've ever felt in my entire life. It was unlike anything I've ever known before, every iota of stress, pressure, anxiety, and discontent gave way to feelings of transcendental peace and happiness. It was one of the most profoundly awesome states of mind I'd ever had. The rest of the trip, I had only ever took one more of those lowly Percocets, but the seed in my mind had been planted. The change had occurred. No longer did I view "drugs" (in my naive mind I had lumped all drugs together as being some form of evil) as bad.
A few months later at home, I had been witnessing the unraveling of one of my closest and best friends (not Tom). He was hopelessly addicted to Oxycodone, which at the time I didn't even realize was the same actual drug I had taken on vacation. He was doing at least 500mg/day. I knew he needed help, and I was one of the instrumental forces in getting his ass into rehab. But before that had happened, he'd unloaded a pretty good quantity of 30mg Roxicodone pills on me, which he told me "was just a more powerful form of Percocet, but the same thing more or less."
Weeks and weeks passed, never touching the stuff but always thinking back to my experience abroad. I kept the shit tightly locked away while my buddy was doing his six month stint in a full on rehab program. Eventually, that curiosity got the best of me. The memory of how awesome that night was began invading my mind like an insidious parasite. Eventually I cracked, began researching this strange blue pill, and started breaking them up into smaller doses.
Just 7.5mg I thought, no big deal. Boom, right back into my blissful state of happiness. Amazing. Inspired. Perfect. It was my "weekend treat." What's wrong with a little unwinding, right? Then it became a weekend + Tuesday treat. Then a "long 4 day weekend treat." Slowly but surely, I began to take that dose daily. But never more that once a day, and always "responsibly" as I thought. I kept it a "special treat" for when I came home from work exceptionally stressed and my fiance was still hard at work. Believe it or not, because of the willpower I actually did have and my overpowering desire to not be an addict and knowledge of the danger, I was able to keep a 7.5/10mg dose of Oxycodone, once a day, for the better part of two years. Freely able to stop and take breaks here and there as needed. I can recall taking my fiancee on a wonderful vacation and not wanting to "smuggle pills." No problem, I just simply stopped taking them the day before. No worries, no issues.
Eventually someone won. Guess what? It wasn't me. It was that evil little bastard called Oxycodone, and the fight wasn't even close. Even though I held out for two full fucking years, keeping it recreational and light, eventually that 10mg dose turned into 30mg doses, twice, three times, four times a day. Then 60mg, 5, six times a day once in a while. No end in site, no understanding or plan for how I'm supposed to go on with my life without opiates. The insidious monster that opiates are eventually took control without me even knowing it. If you've read my words carefully, you'll know I had considered myself at one point almost anti-drug, and that I hadn't even been a pot smoker like every one of my friends.
Yes, recently I was hit by a drunk driver who destroyed my back, but all that came of that was even more access to Opiates further progressing and worsening my addiction. Now how the fuck am I supposed to stop when I basically have them thrown at me for 1/100th of what you pay on the streets?
Heed my warning. You may be the most intelligent, responsible, reasonable human being on planet earth. But that does NOT place you above the grasp of opiate addiction. It's insidious, discreet, uncontrollable, and unimaginably awful. It WILL happen if you keep telling yourself "I'm in control, just one more time, I'm in control." BEcause you're most certainly not in control, unless of course you're dosing once every month. The people I've known to be capable of doing that in my life now, as a veteran addict, I can count on one hand.
Please think carefully about my story if you're a drug newbie as I once was, and are thinking about "dabbling" in opiates. With opiates, there's no such thing as dabbling. Remember that.
Thank you for reading. It was quite cathartic for me to recount my long, hard road to opiate dependence and I hope, if even ONE person out there reads this and reconsiders what they're doing, well, I'll feel like at least some good has come from my addiction. (Mods, again if this is the incorrect forum for this please move where appropriate, but obviously this is aimed at the less experienced members which is why I posted it here).
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