Thanks, thoughts and things ...
I want to thank all the BL'ers for helping me be a better educated user. Something happened last night that had me reflecting on my past few months experience with the site. I happened to find BL like I said just a few months ago surfing around on a smoke break. I was drawn to opiate topics because I've always had a fascination with heroin but never tried it. Honestly I'm too scared to try it and that's probably a good thing. From this site I learned about all the other types of opiates and opioids and their various forms. I'm 37 years old and never knew that things like Vicodin were related to heroin! Where have I been? LOL
Well, funny the way the world works, but soon after discovering BL I came down with a cold. Not a bad cold, but it was one of those that ends with a lingering cough that keeps you up all night. My husband and 8 year old daughter had it too. She went to the doc first because like all overprotective rents, baby goes to the doc at the drop of a hat. Daddy and I were toughing it out because a cold's a cold and there's really nothing you can do about it. He broke down first and saw a doctor who prescribed Tussinex for the cough. He had no idea what he had his hands on. But I did.
I should probably provide a little of our history so you might appreciate the story more. Ours has been a chemical romance. We've been together since 1992 and fucked up ever since. Weed, drink, amps, hallucinogens, X, benzos. Whatever was available at the time. We never really grew up, just got older and kept going through the motions. Now, enter baby. This was about 8 years ago and we really straighten up after that. Just weed and beer to maintain our sanity. I'm amazed we are still in love, having married very young and under reckless circumstances. But we are and of course the road is bumpy at times. We hate each other sometimes, but we are best friends and BFs always stick together.
Now I say we consumed whatever came around, but oddly opiates never did. Ok, ONE time but I was so naive I didn't really appreciate the situation. Our dear friend Peter (who is now dead via suicide over this shit) offered us some opium one night. Just a little bit that he had to share. We were excited because this was new and taboo. Peter was a regular shooter and we weren't cool with that. But this was opium and this was smoking, not shooting so it was ok. We smoked it and enjoyed the hell out of it. I even enjoyed puking shortly after. It was a great night and made for a good dick sizing story since none of my old drug buddies back home had ever even seen the shit. Fast forward 10 years and I'm reading on BL that opium smells like flowers and heroin smells like vinegar. That shit we smoked was vinegar. I still can taste it if I think hard enough. Sweet, I've smoked H and didn't even know it! *places badge on chest*
Finally, back to our colds. My husband said I should try his cough syrup, get a decent nights sleep and go to the doctor myself and quit trying to be a hero. I dosed it, extremely curious how it would feel. It felt fucking great. I B-lined it to the doctor and got a Rx for Zutripro. Mine had pseudoephedrine in it unlike his and it made me feel like a rock star. Literally. I love singing in the car (cause i'm too shy to in front of people) and this stuff relaxed my vocal chords and leveled my voice. Just a sublime level of confidence I've always craved for myself. There are a few things I really hate about being me that hydro fixed like a champ. I looked at it as therapeutic. I decided to drink the whole bottle till it was gone. Using the prescribed dosage though and not religiously every 4 to 6 hours because I wanted it to last and I didn't want to be completely fucked up, just confident and content. Two or three weeks I think it lasted. When it ran out, I was depressed. My plan all along was to do the bottle, throw it away and forget about it. But it was so good. I wanted to feel like that 24/7. However I knew that was impossible and accepted that it was over. My husband had taken only like 1/5 of his bottle and it sat there on the bathroom counter. Gold, sweet and nearly full. That weekend the kid was away and I seduced my husband into dosing together Saturday morning. He had slept through all his doses and hadn't really experienced the high. It was heaven. We played guitars together, fucked like zombies, TV had never been so entertaining. Repeat on Sunday and we took Monday off to do it again. I felt like an evil, worthless piece of shit on Tuesday for introducing him to it. Shoving it down his throat more like it. So I took a new attitude towards it, realizing that with our addictive personalities this could easily lead us down a bad bad road. We have a baby girl. No. He got over it easy and didn't continue to use it. I kept my eye on the bottle, taking a sip here and there with weekdays in between. It was totally casual and not a big deal I told myself. If the level in the bottle dropped too much though, he'd notice so I had to forget about it. Then came the Saturday he was gone and there were 3 doses left. I'll take 1, there are 2 left and I am done. The rest is his. Huff.
Random happenstance number 2. About the time my bottle ran out I was in a car accident. Not my fault! But anyway, I had whiplash from it. My entire shoulder and neck were sore with occasional streaks of pain here and there. I waited it out, thinking it would resolve itself, but it didn't. It got acute. Coincidentally about the same time his bottle ran out I had a brainstorm. Amy, go to a walk in clinic because you have a legit need for painkillers now, I told myself. Sweet! I did it, strange as I felt about it. I kept reminding myself that I had a legitimate reason to go, but I also had ulterior motives and I knew it. I got a script for tramadol and flexoril even after much persuasion that I needed something stronger. I'll skip the details to save you time but basically I took 3 doses and was not satisfied at all. It's an SNRI, I'm not crazy I'm in pain! A few days later I happened to be telling my mama about my shoulder. She told me I need to go see my regular doctor just in case there was some real damage. She handed me her barely touched bottle of norco and said take half of one to get some decent sleep until I go to my appt. Wow. She also said (bless her ever lovin' heart) now be careful because you can get addicted to these things. I played dumb. Ok mama I will.
This is the final paragraph, literally and hopefully metaphorically. I started back on my 5mg a day regime with the bottle she gave me. Day 1 was blissful. I was just happy to have that feeling back. Day 2 was better. Hydrocodone makes me extremely horny and confident. I was sexting my husband all day which is something I never do and it was turning us on to no end. We fucked intensely that night and I just felt like I had the world pinched between my thumb and middle finger. Day 3 I thought I should skip it for a while so as not to get dependent but when I got home, hubby was in a big funk. We fussed a bit and I was really down about it. He is trying to quit drinking and has 5 days down which I'm very proud of him for. I'm trying not drink in front if him but he caught me that night. I felt like shiiiiit about it. So, what do I do? You know. I ate a pill. An hour or so later we're lying in bed, watching TV and I'm feeling less emotionally held hostage than earlier. He feeds off that vibe I guess and starts to let his guard down. We start chatting and laughing at TV and everything between us seems ok for the moment. I'm feeling happy thinking about how under the influence of this drug, I'm able to manipulate my man into a better mood and how awesome that is. Ive always been a slave to his mood, but now I have the power of positivity! While I dwelled on that I felt myself become empowered by it. Something kinda clicked in my head. Like I was feeling the power of the drug wrap even tighter around my psyche. Suddenly I found myself in a full blown panic attack. What the hell! How could I possibly have a panic attack while I'm on hydrocodone? I analyzed it a bit and think i have a good idea what happened. I had the attack because I felt like the drug was taking a firmer grip of me at that very moment. It scared me. Like it was taking on a life of its own. I kept repeating in attempt to calm myself that that was the last dose for me. I would give the bottle back to my mama and be done with it. For some reason this didn't help much. Then I reflected on our long lost Peter and how this was the drug that did him in and what an awful headspace he must've been in. I connected with him on a spiritual level as I was on his DOC and we had that in common at the moment. It actually worked. I began to feel waves of peace wash over me. I told him I understand brother, that I love him and that I know he's still with us but in a better place. I was gonna be ok.
Please see part II. This was too long for one post ...
I want to thank all the BL'ers for helping me be a better educated user. Something happened last night that had me reflecting on my past few months experience with the site. I happened to find BL like I said just a few months ago surfing around on a smoke break. I was drawn to opiate topics because I've always had a fascination with heroin but never tried it. Honestly I'm too scared to try it and that's probably a good thing. From this site I learned about all the other types of opiates and opioids and their various forms. I'm 37 years old and never knew that things like Vicodin were related to heroin! Where have I been? LOL
Well, funny the way the world works, but soon after discovering BL I came down with a cold. Not a bad cold, but it was one of those that ends with a lingering cough that keeps you up all night. My husband and 8 year old daughter had it too. She went to the doc first because like all overprotective rents, baby goes to the doc at the drop of a hat. Daddy and I were toughing it out because a cold's a cold and there's really nothing you can do about it. He broke down first and saw a doctor who prescribed Tussinex for the cough. He had no idea what he had his hands on. But I did.I should probably provide a little of our history so you might appreciate the story more. Ours has been a chemical romance. We've been together since 1992 and fucked up ever since. Weed, drink, amps, hallucinogens, X, benzos. Whatever was available at the time. We never really grew up, just got older and kept going through the motions. Now, enter baby. This was about 8 years ago and we really straighten up after that. Just weed and beer to maintain our sanity. I'm amazed we are still in love, having married very young and under reckless circumstances. But we are and of course the road is bumpy at times. We hate each other sometimes, but we are best friends and BFs always stick together.
Now I say we consumed whatever came around, but oddly opiates never did. Ok, ONE time but I was so naive I didn't really appreciate the situation. Our dear friend Peter (who is now dead via suicide over this shit) offered us some opium one night. Just a little bit that he had to share. We were excited because this was new and taboo. Peter was a regular shooter and we weren't cool with that. But this was opium and this was smoking, not shooting so it was ok. We smoked it and enjoyed the hell out of it. I even enjoyed puking shortly after. It was a great night and made for a good dick sizing story since none of my old drug buddies back home had ever even seen the shit. Fast forward 10 years and I'm reading on BL that opium smells like flowers and heroin smells like vinegar. That shit we smoked was vinegar. I still can taste it if I think hard enough. Sweet, I've smoked H and didn't even know it! *places badge on chest*
Finally, back to our colds. My husband said I should try his cough syrup, get a decent nights sleep and go to the doctor myself and quit trying to be a hero. I dosed it, extremely curious how it would feel. It felt fucking great. I B-lined it to the doctor and got a Rx for Zutripro. Mine had pseudoephedrine in it unlike his and it made me feel like a rock star. Literally. I love singing in the car (cause i'm too shy to in front of people) and this stuff relaxed my vocal chords and leveled my voice. Just a sublime level of confidence I've always craved for myself. There are a few things I really hate about being me that hydro fixed like a champ. I looked at it as therapeutic. I decided to drink the whole bottle till it was gone. Using the prescribed dosage though and not religiously every 4 to 6 hours because I wanted it to last and I didn't want to be completely fucked up, just confident and content. Two or three weeks I think it lasted. When it ran out, I was depressed. My plan all along was to do the bottle, throw it away and forget about it. But it was so good. I wanted to feel like that 24/7. However I knew that was impossible and accepted that it was over. My husband had taken only like 1/5 of his bottle and it sat there on the bathroom counter. Gold, sweet and nearly full. That weekend the kid was away and I seduced my husband into dosing together Saturday morning. He had slept through all his doses and hadn't really experienced the high. It was heaven. We played guitars together, fucked like zombies, TV had never been so entertaining. Repeat on Sunday and we took Monday off to do it again. I felt like an evil, worthless piece of shit on Tuesday for introducing him to it. Shoving it down his throat more like it. So I took a new attitude towards it, realizing that with our addictive personalities this could easily lead us down a bad bad road. We have a baby girl. No. He got over it easy and didn't continue to use it. I kept my eye on the bottle, taking a sip here and there with weekdays in between. It was totally casual and not a big deal I told myself. If the level in the bottle dropped too much though, he'd notice so I had to forget about it. Then came the Saturday he was gone and there were 3 doses left. I'll take 1, there are 2 left and I am done. The rest is his. Huff.
Random happenstance number 2. About the time my bottle ran out I was in a car accident. Not my fault! But anyway, I had whiplash from it. My entire shoulder and neck were sore with occasional streaks of pain here and there. I waited it out, thinking it would resolve itself, but it didn't. It got acute. Coincidentally about the same time his bottle ran out I had a brainstorm. Amy, go to a walk in clinic because you have a legit need for painkillers now, I told myself. Sweet! I did it, strange as I felt about it. I kept reminding myself that I had a legitimate reason to go, but I also had ulterior motives and I knew it. I got a script for tramadol and flexoril even after much persuasion that I needed something stronger. I'll skip the details to save you time but basically I took 3 doses and was not satisfied at all. It's an SNRI, I'm not crazy I'm in pain! A few days later I happened to be telling my mama about my shoulder. She told me I need to go see my regular doctor just in case there was some real damage. She handed me her barely touched bottle of norco and said take half of one to get some decent sleep until I go to my appt. Wow. She also said (bless her ever lovin' heart) now be careful because you can get addicted to these things. I played dumb. Ok mama I will.
This is the final paragraph, literally and hopefully metaphorically. I started back on my 5mg a day regime with the bottle she gave me. Day 1 was blissful. I was just happy to have that feeling back. Day 2 was better. Hydrocodone makes me extremely horny and confident. I was sexting my husband all day which is something I never do and it was turning us on to no end. We fucked intensely that night and I just felt like I had the world pinched between my thumb and middle finger. Day 3 I thought I should skip it for a while so as not to get dependent but when I got home, hubby was in a big funk. We fussed a bit and I was really down about it. He is trying to quit drinking and has 5 days down which I'm very proud of him for. I'm trying not drink in front if him but he caught me that night. I felt like shiiiiit about it. So, what do I do? You know. I ate a pill. An hour or so later we're lying in bed, watching TV and I'm feeling less emotionally held hostage than earlier. He feeds off that vibe I guess and starts to let his guard down. We start chatting and laughing at TV and everything between us seems ok for the moment. I'm feeling happy thinking about how under the influence of this drug, I'm able to manipulate my man into a better mood and how awesome that is. Ive always been a slave to his mood, but now I have the power of positivity! While I dwelled on that I felt myself become empowered by it. Something kinda clicked in my head. Like I was feeling the power of the drug wrap even tighter around my psyche. Suddenly I found myself in a full blown panic attack. What the hell! How could I possibly have a panic attack while I'm on hydrocodone? I analyzed it a bit and think i have a good idea what happened. I had the attack because I felt like the drug was taking a firmer grip of me at that very moment. It scared me. Like it was taking on a life of its own. I kept repeating in attempt to calm myself that that was the last dose for me. I would give the bottle back to my mama and be done with it. For some reason this didn't help much. Then I reflected on our long lost Peter and how this was the drug that did him in and what an awful headspace he must've been in. I connected with him on a spiritual level as I was on his DOC and we had that in common at the moment. It actually worked. I began to feel waves of peace wash over me. I told him I understand brother, that I love him and that I know he's still with us but in a better place. I was gonna be ok.
Please see part II. This was too long for one post ...