PsychonautRyan
Bluelighter
I've had a pretty tough week, when our cat was originally dropped off at the vet's clinic to treat what was thought to be a ruptured bladder infection, it was discovered that he was filling with abdominal fluids either as a result of cancer, heart disease or FIP virus. The "best" we could hope for was heart disease, which would cost a $300 Ultrasound to even diagnose, and in severe cases such as his, they rarely live longer than a year past diagnosis with expensive surgeries and medications. Mom told us we could visit him one last time before we put him to sleep, and I just needed a day-off to cope and try to prepare myself for saying good-bye to our cat one last time.
I asked to see him on Friday, and Mom said he might not make it until then. Anyway, the Thursday was my day-off, just to run errands and try to ready myself for tomorrow, after I got home from an oil change, but Mom and my brother visited him anyway. So I asked if I could see him, and she said that she is in too much misery watching him suffer, so she had him put to sleep after they left. I was beyond pissed off: she couldn't have called me, and I could drop everything and get there in an hour or less? Was the cat suffering that much for that to be out-of-the-question? If that weren't bad enough, she could've also called me to give me a heads-up, instead of finding out 20 minutes before I had to go to work.
I could at least try to find solace and reassurance in saying good-bye to our cat, because I really fucking loved him, and I just felt cheated and that Mom robbed me of an opportunity to say farewell one last time. I know she was probably overwhelmed with emotion to think this through, and I lashed out at her and she stormed out of the room crying.
I've just been having episodes a few times each day where I just break down crying for a few minutes, and I have no idea when I'll recover from the grieving process. In fact, just last night when I had to change laundry over, I saw his litter box, emptied out and unused, and I just broke down into tears. What's worse is that I have high hopes for this coming semester, and this just sets up a gloomy backdrop for it.
So coincidentally, our grandma is attending a fitness rehab center because of a dislodged disc in her back, Mom cleaned out her house of medications under the doctor's advisement seeing as how she had a drinking problem as well. Anyway, I found morphine sulfate (15 mg) and hydrocodone pills (10 mg w/ 325 mg acetaminophen), so I took three of the morphine pills and five of hydros, and she also had Xanax, and there were empty pill bottles of hydrocodone in the rest of the grocery bag. I only took three Xanax bars, since there were about half-a-dozen left, and I doubt that Mom had inventoried each pill in the bag, but I think I'll just play it on the safe side.
Normally, I'd be absolutely turned-off to benzodiazepines and opioids because the state of euphoria, relaxation and a warm sense of well-being is an illusion of manipulating GABA and dopamine release respectively, and aside from alcohol, and I'm sick of hangovers. I am prescribed Adderall, and Paul Erdos used amphetamines for depression, but I see them as a means to an end for achieving productivity, energy and motivation (caffeine x100).
I prefer psychedelics more than anything, because of the insights they reveal, though sometimes unwanted or unpleasant, as well as the sense of lasting oneness and transcendence, the heightened creativity/abstract thinking, and a feeling of open-minded acceptance, harmony and peace that resides long after the experience because it is imprinted on my conscious expansion. I have a small amount of mushrooms remaining (1/32 oz., 0.875 grams), but given the gloomy mood I'm in I'd stay away for awhile. In fact, I mixed LSD and mushrooms on Wednesday, both in moderate doses (180 mics with 1/32 oz. mushrooms as a light booster later on), and when I was on that positive afterglow in the afternoon, Mom told me about the health issues with the cat, which is the ultimate buzz-kill for such a spiritually-insightful experience, and kind of hard to reconcile with in that state of consciousness.
Anyway, knowing that Mom is probably going to deposit them with a DEA medication disposal service, I have those pills in a baggie. Essentially, I just intend to use these drugs to cope, with off-days to gauge the severity of my depression, and I feel I'll be cleared up in one or two weeks, I just don't want to be in a gloomy fog the first week of the semester. I just intend to use low dosages, and I know alcohol should absolutely be avoided, and I'm sure speed with opiates/benzos at the same time is just asking for multiple substance addictions, so I'll have to be conservative. Or am I only fooling myself by thinking I'm disciplined enough to avoid dependency and just flush them down the toilet?
I asked to see him on Friday, and Mom said he might not make it until then. Anyway, the Thursday was my day-off, just to run errands and try to ready myself for tomorrow, after I got home from an oil change, but Mom and my brother visited him anyway. So I asked if I could see him, and she said that she is in too much misery watching him suffer, so she had him put to sleep after they left. I was beyond pissed off: she couldn't have called me, and I could drop everything and get there in an hour or less? Was the cat suffering that much for that to be out-of-the-question? If that weren't bad enough, she could've also called me to give me a heads-up, instead of finding out 20 minutes before I had to go to work.
I could at least try to find solace and reassurance in saying good-bye to our cat, because I really fucking loved him, and I just felt cheated and that Mom robbed me of an opportunity to say farewell one last time. I know she was probably overwhelmed with emotion to think this through, and I lashed out at her and she stormed out of the room crying.
I've just been having episodes a few times each day where I just break down crying for a few minutes, and I have no idea when I'll recover from the grieving process. In fact, just last night when I had to change laundry over, I saw his litter box, emptied out and unused, and I just broke down into tears. What's worse is that I have high hopes for this coming semester, and this just sets up a gloomy backdrop for it.
So coincidentally, our grandma is attending a fitness rehab center because of a dislodged disc in her back, Mom cleaned out her house of medications under the doctor's advisement seeing as how she had a drinking problem as well. Anyway, I found morphine sulfate (15 mg) and hydrocodone pills (10 mg w/ 325 mg acetaminophen), so I took three of the morphine pills and five of hydros, and she also had Xanax, and there were empty pill bottles of hydrocodone in the rest of the grocery bag. I only took three Xanax bars, since there were about half-a-dozen left, and I doubt that Mom had inventoried each pill in the bag, but I think I'll just play it on the safe side.
Normally, I'd be absolutely turned-off to benzodiazepines and opioids because the state of euphoria, relaxation and a warm sense of well-being is an illusion of manipulating GABA and dopamine release respectively, and aside from alcohol, and I'm sick of hangovers. I am prescribed Adderall, and Paul Erdos used amphetamines for depression, but I see them as a means to an end for achieving productivity, energy and motivation (caffeine x100).
I prefer psychedelics more than anything, because of the insights they reveal, though sometimes unwanted or unpleasant, as well as the sense of lasting oneness and transcendence, the heightened creativity/abstract thinking, and a feeling of open-minded acceptance, harmony and peace that resides long after the experience because it is imprinted on my conscious expansion. I have a small amount of mushrooms remaining (1/32 oz., 0.875 grams), but given the gloomy mood I'm in I'd stay away for awhile. In fact, I mixed LSD and mushrooms on Wednesday, both in moderate doses (180 mics with 1/32 oz. mushrooms as a light booster later on), and when I was on that positive afterglow in the afternoon, Mom told me about the health issues with the cat, which is the ultimate buzz-kill for such a spiritually-insightful experience, and kind of hard to reconcile with in that state of consciousness.
Anyway, knowing that Mom is probably going to deposit them with a DEA medication disposal service, I have those pills in a baggie. Essentially, I just intend to use these drugs to cope, with off-days to gauge the severity of my depression, and I feel I'll be cleared up in one or two weeks, I just don't want to be in a gloomy fog the first week of the semester. I just intend to use low dosages, and I know alcohol should absolutely be avoided, and I'm sure speed with opiates/benzos at the same time is just asking for multiple substance addictions, so I'll have to be conservative. Or am I only fooling myself by thinking I'm disciplined enough to avoid dependency and just flush them down the toilet?