Just a few days and a year will have passed since I stopped getting high from opioids. It's been a tough period of time. I came back to moments when I stuck a needle into my vein just like that...
It might have lost that magic of blissfulness but it always brought a feeling I don't have to care about anything, it always helped to go ahead instead of doing needless analyses. These drugs were a panacea for so many things. I could just go all the way and shoot an amount that would put me down to nodding and I didn't even think where I am. I could do a smaller amount to get through the day, to be who I am, to extract the better side of me that was detained for the most of the time. It was morphine that really pushed me to people and I got a chance to show them I'm a sociable, outgoing man. It killed the "virus" that blocked me from showing my advantages. I didn't change because of drug use. The other side of me came to voice and helped me gain what I wanted but didn't know how to get through obstacles and get it.
It definitely brought a lot of positives. For a very long period of time I didn't look at negatives as even making money wasn't the problem when I spread my wings and was successful in quite a lot of areas. Nevertheless, the bad news were still to come. I wasn't a simply depressed boy in my early teen years. I got twice diagnosed with BPD. So many things became clear after this. I may have been very depressed during mid-high school but I definitely had moments of full-blown mania when I was already in high school. I did many stupid things because of that. Still, morphine was already at hand. And when there was quite a long shortage, heroin took over. It didn't matter.
How won't I forget those nods during last classes... Wandering around the school or sleeping in various parts of school. I felt so free. Times when part of money I didn't invest and I had for daily use started to be not enough happened quite often at that time but after all I must confess to myself I was a master at getting money not resorting to thefts. I always had a solution. I admired the beauty of world surrounding me, morphine could shift it all from a gray scale to a millions of colors palette. Trains, buses, parks, streets, forests... I'm going to miss that. I already do.
But it seems anyway that my ride is over. I touched hundreds of opioids having acquired practically unlimited access to great lab and I knew how to combine work with curing my illness. Now I can walk by samples of chemicals that could give me instant rush I could also combine with a bit psychedelic and stimulating euphoria. I don't. I sit with my methadone and clonazepam, and if I do happen to want to forget, it's enough. I won't lie to myself that deeply inside I don't want to take an ampule of good old sister, put a needle on a syringe, empty an ampule and just shoot. After all these years I found I'm resistant to any therapy that should end with me thinking "I don't want it anymore". I do want it as hell. I just don't do it anymore because I know how much it would cost me with my personal life.
It might have lost that magic of blissfulness but it always brought a feeling I don't have to care about anything, it always helped to go ahead instead of doing needless analyses. These drugs were a panacea for so many things. I could just go all the way and shoot an amount that would put me down to nodding and I didn't even think where I am. I could do a smaller amount to get through the day, to be who I am, to extract the better side of me that was detained for the most of the time. It was morphine that really pushed me to people and I got a chance to show them I'm a sociable, outgoing man. It killed the "virus" that blocked me from showing my advantages. I didn't change because of drug use. The other side of me came to voice and helped me gain what I wanted but didn't know how to get through obstacles and get it.
It definitely brought a lot of positives. For a very long period of time I didn't look at negatives as even making money wasn't the problem when I spread my wings and was successful in quite a lot of areas. Nevertheless, the bad news were still to come. I wasn't a simply depressed boy in my early teen years. I got twice diagnosed with BPD. So many things became clear after this. I may have been very depressed during mid-high school but I definitely had moments of full-blown mania when I was already in high school. I did many stupid things because of that. Still, morphine was already at hand. And when there was quite a long shortage, heroin took over. It didn't matter.
How won't I forget those nods during last classes... Wandering around the school or sleeping in various parts of school. I felt so free. Times when part of money I didn't invest and I had for daily use started to be not enough happened quite often at that time but after all I must confess to myself I was a master at getting money not resorting to thefts. I always had a solution. I admired the beauty of world surrounding me, morphine could shift it all from a gray scale to a millions of colors palette. Trains, buses, parks, streets, forests... I'm going to miss that. I already do.
But it seems anyway that my ride is over. I touched hundreds of opioids having acquired practically unlimited access to great lab and I knew how to combine work with curing my illness. Now I can walk by samples of chemicals that could give me instant rush I could also combine with a bit psychedelic and stimulating euphoria. I don't. I sit with my methadone and clonazepam, and if I do happen to want to forget, it's enough. I won't lie to myself that deeply inside I don't want to take an ampule of good old sister, put a needle on a syringe, empty an ampule and just shoot. After all these years I found I'm resistant to any therapy that should end with me thinking "I don't want it anymore". I do want it as hell. I just don't do it anymore because I know how much it would cost me with my personal life.
