TheFrogEffect
Bluelighter
- Joined
- Nov 13, 2020
- Messages
- 234
On Saturday, my roommate's brother came to stay with us for the day. He was homeless and his sister wanted him to be able to have a couple hot meals and some good sleep because he'd just gotten out of the hospital after having a wicked case or pneumonia. He had a really bad drug problem, but he didn't steal or act like an asshole, so my girlfriend and I were always fine with him being here. I'd rather he be off the streets and in a safe space instead of sleeping in a tent behind the corner store in the Spring rain. At least, I thought our home would be a safe place.
My girlfriend left for work at noon and my roommate left for work at 2. I asked my roommate's brother if he was good or needed anything because I was gonna take a nap, just thought I'd be hospitable and offer to grab something for him or whatever, and he declined. Said he was good to go and he'd be fine. I told him to help himself to the fridge and pantry and come get me if he needed anything else.
Anyway, I fell asleep around 3 without setting an alarm because I didn't work on Sunday, so I figured if I overslept and stayed awake all night it'd be fine. Anyway, I ended up sleeping until 8:30 at night when my girlfriend called and asked if I wanted to go to dinner. We were on a video call discussing where to eat when my roommate came home. As soon as she got to her room, she yelled my name and she sounded horrified. I ran upstairs and she was crouched down over her brother. "He's warm but he's not breathing." She told me. I told my girlfriend that there was an emergency and to clear out anything in the way from the living room and hung up without spending anymore time explaining.
I flipped him on his back while my roommate called 911. While flipping him over I saw a fresh track mark on his arm. He also had this bloody looking stuff coming out of his nose and it was all over the floor. It wasn't just blood though, it was disgusting and smelled foul.
Anyway, I told her to grab me my narcan from my nightstand and she went and opened it and came back. It was the only dose I had left. I made sure he was flat on his back and supported his head the way the instructions I watched online previously had said to do, and sprayed it up his nose but nothing happened. She told me that 911 said to start chest compressions, so I had her put it on speakerphone and asked them exactly what to do as I am not CPR certified. They explained and began counting for me to keep me on rhythm until the EMT's arrived
My girlfriend got home, came upstairs and saw what was happening, then ran downstairs and moved everything out of the way. We knew they'd have to move him downstairs because there 2as no room to work upstairs. EMT's only took about 8 to 10 minutes to get there, but Jesus Christ, it felt like an eternity. Time was moving in slow motion at this point. They arrived and took over, gave him an IV narcan and, as I knew would happen, they moved him downstairs in the living room.
My roommate and I stood on the stairs watching them perform CPR for what felt like a lifetime, she was on the phone with her parents and all I could do was watch and hope for the best. My girlfriend was stuck downstairs in the kitchen. So we all basically stood and watched, mortified, unable to console one another. After a half an hour and 4 doses of IV narcan, the doctor at the ER told the EMT's to stop trying to resuscitate him. And that was that. He died right there in our house.
The cops came and did an investigation. I told them of my limited interaction with him and that I slept most of the day. Roommate told them what she had done and then my girlfriend did the same. The cops checked his coat and found a used syringe, foils with pills wrapped up in them (some had been partially smoked), a baggie of fentanyl, a meth pipe and some other paraphernalia. The cops took the fentanyl and left everything else in the coat. They stood around until the coroner got there, which was only about 5 minutes later. They talked to the coroner for a bit and then left.
The coroner examines the body, pointing out the fresh track mark I saw (i hadn't told my roommate because I had to shut my mind off and focus on CPR, otherwise I was going to panic and be useless). She examined the stuff coming from his nose and told us that it indicated that in addition to OD, he had also had some sort of gastric hemorrhage (I don't remember if she used the word hemorrhage or what. Wasn't exactly thinking straight.) She finished up and put the bodybag and zipped it up just a minute or two before my roommate's parents walked through the door.
My girlfriend and I sat upstairs for a while in complete silence, staring off into space, when I finally came around and asked her if she wanted to go out to get food and she could have a couple drinks (I don't drink anymore) so that her roommate and parents could have the conversation with the coroner and then have space for themselves. So we went downstairs and his dad shook my hand and thanked me for everything I did. His mom embraced me in a hug, almost crying but not quite (she was still in shock), and she thanked me as well.
I felt guilty as fuck. I know there was nothing more I could have done, but the guilt was telling me I should have been able to. Today I resolved that issue and came to terms with the fact that I really did my best and nothing could have changed what happened. Official toxicology and autopsy results pending, but the coroner sounded very sure that the combination of fentanyl and the medical event that occurred did him in.
Anyway, as of Saturday before this happened I was just 13 days clean from heroin, fentanyl and meth. Yesterday, Sunday, I caved under the nerves I was feeling from the whole ordeal and got some meth. Not sure why my reaction to watching an OD pushed me to doing drugs. You'd think my reaction would have been different. One thing is for damn sure, though. I will never touch heroin or fentanyl again in my life. I don't care how much I love opiates. I'm done. I'm never letting my family or friends find me that way. I'm never going to put anyone in a situation like that. No fucking way am I gonna kill myself with drugs.
My bag of meth is gone. I'm officially done with that shit too. I'm dedicating myself to staying clean. I'll still smoke weed and do psychedelics and shit, but I'm not ever going after the hard shit ever again. I just started a YouTube channel for vlogs and an upcoming podcast that I'm launching. The entire channel is about drugs, addiction, relapse, harm reduction, and recovery. I'm going to pour my soul into my YouTube videos as my way of recovering from addiction, and my hope is that this channel helps other people with their addictions too.
Anyway, sorry for the long, sad story. I had to get it out because it's eating me up inside. Let it be a cautionary tale for anyone who might be curious about using fentanyl or other opiates. They are wicked and they will kill you. Even though the high is amazing (heroin will always be my favorite high, even though I never plan to use again) Especially fentanyl. And if you don't manage to OD and die, they can do worse than just straight up kill you. They steal away your soul and you become an empty shell, not to mention the health risks and complications that come from IV use. Hell, my roommate's brother had been living on on the streets chasing fixes for almost ten years because of opiates.
You don't want to fuck with opiates/opioids ever. If you haven't started using them, just fucking don't. Please, please, do not start. If you choose not to follow my advice, then never, ever use alone. Make the people around you aware so they can look out for you. Make sure that these are people you trust won't leave you for dead. Or call the Never Use Alone hotline* before you use. . If he would have come and told me he was about to shoot up, I wouldn't have been thrilled but I would have definitely made sure he was safe. But we didn't know each other at all really so he probably didn't feel like he could tell me without repercussions.
Much love to you, Bluelight goers. Be careful out there, stay safe, and remember to never use alone.
*When I was doing heroin and fentanyl I refused to use with other people, so I called the Never Use Alone hotline almost every time I would use and chatted with the operator while using and they made sure I was good and safe. Seriously, they just get your name and address and location in the home so if they have to dispatch EMS, they can. Then you use however you use and they check with you every 30 seconds or so while you're busy using. After you're done using, they keep you on the phone for about 15 minutes and will talk to you about literally anything you want to talk about. Or if you don't wanna talk they'll just chill on the line and check in every 30 seconds or so. I never OD'd when using this service but if I had OD'd, there would have been help already on the way. I cannot praise Never Use Alone enough. Tell everyone you know that uses about the service and have them save the hotline number and implore them to call when they want to use and nobody is around.
My girlfriend left for work at noon and my roommate left for work at 2. I asked my roommate's brother if he was good or needed anything because I was gonna take a nap, just thought I'd be hospitable and offer to grab something for him or whatever, and he declined. Said he was good to go and he'd be fine. I told him to help himself to the fridge and pantry and come get me if he needed anything else.
Anyway, I fell asleep around 3 without setting an alarm because I didn't work on Sunday, so I figured if I overslept and stayed awake all night it'd be fine. Anyway, I ended up sleeping until 8:30 at night when my girlfriend called and asked if I wanted to go to dinner. We were on a video call discussing where to eat when my roommate came home. As soon as she got to her room, she yelled my name and she sounded horrified. I ran upstairs and she was crouched down over her brother. "He's warm but he's not breathing." She told me. I told my girlfriend that there was an emergency and to clear out anything in the way from the living room and hung up without spending anymore time explaining.
I flipped him on his back while my roommate called 911. While flipping him over I saw a fresh track mark on his arm. He also had this bloody looking stuff coming out of his nose and it was all over the floor. It wasn't just blood though, it was disgusting and smelled foul.
Anyway, I told her to grab me my narcan from my nightstand and she went and opened it and came back. It was the only dose I had left. I made sure he was flat on his back and supported his head the way the instructions I watched online previously had said to do, and sprayed it up his nose but nothing happened. She told me that 911 said to start chest compressions, so I had her put it on speakerphone and asked them exactly what to do as I am not CPR certified. They explained and began counting for me to keep me on rhythm until the EMT's arrived
My girlfriend got home, came upstairs and saw what was happening, then ran downstairs and moved everything out of the way. We knew they'd have to move him downstairs because there 2as no room to work upstairs. EMT's only took about 8 to 10 minutes to get there, but Jesus Christ, it felt like an eternity. Time was moving in slow motion at this point. They arrived and took over, gave him an IV narcan and, as I knew would happen, they moved him downstairs in the living room.
My roommate and I stood on the stairs watching them perform CPR for what felt like a lifetime, she was on the phone with her parents and all I could do was watch and hope for the best. My girlfriend was stuck downstairs in the kitchen. So we all basically stood and watched, mortified, unable to console one another. After a half an hour and 4 doses of IV narcan, the doctor at the ER told the EMT's to stop trying to resuscitate him. And that was that. He died right there in our house.
The cops came and did an investigation. I told them of my limited interaction with him and that I slept most of the day. Roommate told them what she had done and then my girlfriend did the same. The cops checked his coat and found a used syringe, foils with pills wrapped up in them (some had been partially smoked), a baggie of fentanyl, a meth pipe and some other paraphernalia. The cops took the fentanyl and left everything else in the coat. They stood around until the coroner got there, which was only about 5 minutes later. They talked to the coroner for a bit and then left.
The coroner examines the body, pointing out the fresh track mark I saw (i hadn't told my roommate because I had to shut my mind off and focus on CPR, otherwise I was going to panic and be useless). She examined the stuff coming from his nose and told us that it indicated that in addition to OD, he had also had some sort of gastric hemorrhage (I don't remember if she used the word hemorrhage or what. Wasn't exactly thinking straight.) She finished up and put the bodybag and zipped it up just a minute or two before my roommate's parents walked through the door.
My girlfriend and I sat upstairs for a while in complete silence, staring off into space, when I finally came around and asked her if she wanted to go out to get food and she could have a couple drinks (I don't drink anymore) so that her roommate and parents could have the conversation with the coroner and then have space for themselves. So we went downstairs and his dad shook my hand and thanked me for everything I did. His mom embraced me in a hug, almost crying but not quite (she was still in shock), and she thanked me as well.
I felt guilty as fuck. I know there was nothing more I could have done, but the guilt was telling me I should have been able to. Today I resolved that issue and came to terms with the fact that I really did my best and nothing could have changed what happened. Official toxicology and autopsy results pending, but the coroner sounded very sure that the combination of fentanyl and the medical event that occurred did him in.
Anyway, as of Saturday before this happened I was just 13 days clean from heroin, fentanyl and meth. Yesterday, Sunday, I caved under the nerves I was feeling from the whole ordeal and got some meth. Not sure why my reaction to watching an OD pushed me to doing drugs. You'd think my reaction would have been different. One thing is for damn sure, though. I will never touch heroin or fentanyl again in my life. I don't care how much I love opiates. I'm done. I'm never letting my family or friends find me that way. I'm never going to put anyone in a situation like that. No fucking way am I gonna kill myself with drugs.
My bag of meth is gone. I'm officially done with that shit too. I'm dedicating myself to staying clean. I'll still smoke weed and do psychedelics and shit, but I'm not ever going after the hard shit ever again. I just started a YouTube channel for vlogs and an upcoming podcast that I'm launching. The entire channel is about drugs, addiction, relapse, harm reduction, and recovery. I'm going to pour my soul into my YouTube videos as my way of recovering from addiction, and my hope is that this channel helps other people with their addictions too.
Anyway, sorry for the long, sad story. I had to get it out because it's eating me up inside. Let it be a cautionary tale for anyone who might be curious about using fentanyl or other opiates. They are wicked and they will kill you. Even though the high is amazing (heroin will always be my favorite high, even though I never plan to use again) Especially fentanyl. And if you don't manage to OD and die, they can do worse than just straight up kill you. They steal away your soul and you become an empty shell, not to mention the health risks and complications that come from IV use. Hell, my roommate's brother had been living on on the streets chasing fixes for almost ten years because of opiates.
You don't want to fuck with opiates/opioids ever. If you haven't started using them, just fucking don't. Please, please, do not start. If you choose not to follow my advice, then never, ever use alone. Make the people around you aware so they can look out for you. Make sure that these are people you trust won't leave you for dead. Or call the Never Use Alone hotline* before you use. . If he would have come and told me he was about to shoot up, I wouldn't have been thrilled but I would have definitely made sure he was safe. But we didn't know each other at all really so he probably didn't feel like he could tell me without repercussions.
Much love to you, Bluelight goers. Be careful out there, stay safe, and remember to never use alone.
*When I was doing heroin and fentanyl I refused to use with other people, so I called the Never Use Alone hotline almost every time I would use and chatted with the operator while using and they made sure I was good and safe. Seriously, they just get your name and address and location in the home so if they have to dispatch EMS, they can. Then you use however you use and they check with you every 30 seconds or so while you're busy using. After you're done using, they keep you on the phone for about 15 minutes and will talk to you about literally anything you want to talk about. Or if you don't wanna talk they'll just chill on the line and check in every 30 seconds or so. I never OD'd when using this service but if I had OD'd, there would have been help already on the way. I cannot praise Never Use Alone enough. Tell everyone you know that uses about the service and have them save the hotline number and implore them to call when they want to use and nobody is around.