WARNING POINTLESS PERSONAL BLOGGING FOR THOSE CURIOUS OR BORED
Hello PD. Long, long long time no see

Even out about in my "real life" I often feel guilty for not saying hi to all my PD electronic-penpals (that's what I refer to you guys as to non interweb savvy folks lol). Since I last stopped in, I had my suboxone doctor randomly decide to retire giving me no easy option to get my medication, sending me into the most hellish withdrawal I've ever experienced or heard of. At that same time, my ex girlfriend was living with me. Yes, the one that I was/am crazy in love with and never got over haha. She had been kicked out, from her small town home, and I was the only person she knew in the cities that was willing to help her. I helped her get a job, get all her government docs sorted out and gave her a place to stay while she hunted for apartments. It was tough, because obviously since I'm referring to her as my ex, she wasn't interested in a relationship with me. She had also JUST broken up with her boyfriend, the same guy she left me for way back when because I was being a junkie. So there I was, living with my ex who I'm by no means "over" whatsoever, while she's all sad about leaving a guy that she left ME for in the first place, while going through intense withdrawal from buprenorphine, with absolutely no medications to aid in my suffering. No benzos, booze- nothing. Now I don't want to down-talk buprenorphine, I really think it's a wonder drug. But if you don't taper off properly (didn't even have the option), it's truly a living hell. The only reason I didn't IMMEDIATELY relapse was because the "fiending" factor was missing, since it was more w/d from a "medication" than a drug of abuse that I crave for the high. Despite the emotional stress of the living situation, that women was the only reason I made it the whole 7-8 days of sickness without using. Despite her aversion to physical closenss with me to avoid any attatchment, she would give me massages and cuddles all day long even with her 10 hour shifts to bar-close every day. She was a real sweetheart, she's never gone through opiate w/d or any w/d before, but definitely had the capacity for empathy and it was a life saver- maybe literally- because in that state I was primed to do something REALLY dumb. That primal torture of w/d makes me do things way out of character at times. I was quite proud of myself, and very grateful for her attempts to comfort me despite her many reasons to not want to. It was even during the week of my 20th birthday. At one point I had to abruptly leave my birthday dinner at this crab/seafood restaraunt because of a panic attack coming, right before the waiter wanted me to dress up like a cheerleader and dance with the waitstaff lmao. It would've been so fun too

. After a cigarette and a backrub from the lady I calmed down but the staff had moved on, likely thinking I was such a nutcase that I couldn't even handle the birthday shenanigans. I even kept up with my work towards become a volunteer literacy tutor at my old elementary school. (full time position, they send checks for a "living allowance" that isn't dependent on your hours though). Theeeennnnn one day this lady packed up all her things, told me she wanted to go home to her parents house, then out of state to either South Dakota or Texas. At that time I was still somewhat hopeful that she and I could work something out, me being clean again and all. We had been having sex and getting a lil more intimate living together as well. So I didn't really freak out hearing that, because I thought maybe this plan didn't necessarily exclude me. When I helped her load her boxes back into her hometown house, I didn't know it'd be the last time I'd see her. I was supposed to be picking her up the next day to grab her last check from work. Well I slept in slightly and was like 30 minutes late, she got really upset and told me to forget it. (during all this she was extremely stressed out, there was a truly ridiculous amount of turmoil occurring in her life. Enough to make me shed a tear thinking about it even) I thought maybe I'd just do it the next day, but I never heard from her at all. I found out through
facebook for fucks sake that she had moved to Texas with her grandparents. And I'm sittin there damn near shitting myself all day, shaking and sweating while on the verge of panic constantly. She and I weren't dating, but I definitely thought we were very close friends- so that was a heavy blow for sure.
I looked at myself and pretty much thought "fuck man, I've made it this far stepping on hot coals and being sodomized by satan himself everyday, but this is too much." And I picked up the needle. (not emoticon available that's sad enough). Well more accurately, I tried other less extreme solutions first. Loperamide for w/d symptoms is a load of shit unless the placebo helps you out I guess, I tried finding weak opioids like hydrocodone or codeine to lessen the suffering until the bupe left my body- but literally the only opiate I had access to was the big H. I did it, it made the sick go away, I got high- but FUCK did I hate myself. Wasn't even enjoyable at
all. There I was, repeating the same bullshit that lost me the love of my life all over again, partially because of my asshole suboxone doctor, and partially because that same love of my life truly seemed to have stopped giving all fucks about me. The whole situation felt filthy, dirty- absolutely despicable. One thing I am proud of myself for, is that I immediately continued searching for a new suboxone doctor (I originally planned on toughing out the sickness and just stopping). And as soon as I found a doctor that accommodated my financial needs I dropped the needle and got back on maintenance with no delay. I suppose it was easier since I never
wanted to get high, just to be able to function, since I had an incredible amount of work to do regarding the tutoring job.
To top the bullshit I've described thus far off, when I tried to re-induct myself onto the buprenorphine, I apparently didn't wait long enough since the last dose of heroin (even though I felt the signs of w/d pretty clearly). For those who don't know, this causes something called precipitated withdrawal. The bupe, with its very high affinity for the opiate receptors along with it's comparitively low activity on those receptors, boots out the remaining full agonist opiates from your receptors and attatches itself. The low activity and partially agonizing nature of bupe causes a net loss in opiate receptor activity, IMMEDIATELY shooting you into the most extreme stage of withdrawal. In simpler terms, the subs RIP any other opiates out of your brain, causing you to go from well to 100% in w/d in anywhere from seconds to minutes. I had actually administered the bupe IV in a small dose, out of paranoia that I might cause PWs. Although this made it hit MUCH faster, it also passed in "only" an hour as opposed to an utterly insane amount of time that might have resulted from another ROA and dose. I went from sniffling, teary eyed and anxious (mild withdrawal) to feeling like I had been set on fire, frozen to the core (at the same time, magic!), shaking like an epileptic, projectile vomiting, shitting liquid with my stomach very obviously spasm-ing in impossible positions and speeds. Along with a sense of anxiety, panic and pure terror that seriously could be called traumatic. All that, literally as soon as I pushed the plunger down with ONE FUCKING MILLIGRAM of bupe in the syringe. Awesome start to trying to get back on the right track lmao. I can laugh at it now, but for a couple weeks I'd practically have to force myself to take my subs in the morning like I had PTSD or some shit lol, even knowing there was no way it'd happen again. Now that I'm steady on my maintenance, that memory serves as a very efficient deterrent to going back to regular opiate use. So those of you on bupe maintenance that occasionally go on a "holiday" like many do, if you don't already know, WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT MOTHERFUCKING-WAIT until you are OBVIOUSLY in withdrawal before taking that pill or strip. I know it's hard, w/d sucks on a primal level that makes any chance at wellness seem all too appealing, it's what makes opiate addiction so gripping. But trust me, if you haven't had PWs before, it's one of those things I HONESTLY would not wish on my worst enemy. Worse than heartbreak, bad psychedelic trips (I mean BAD not difficult), horrible injury, death of loved ones. I'm not exaggerating any of that at all haha believe me if you want, I can't make you, but I'll try. I'm currently heavily stimulated, so forgive the length and whatnot, just thought maybe someone would find this interesting or is curious about what I've been up to.