i wasn't talking about getting high of buprenorphine. i know it's possible and 2mg iv was one of the most intense highs i've ever had (i, at the time had little to no tolerance, so yeah, it could have killed me).
antidepressants don't get you high, with the possible exception of amineptine but that's an entirely different story. i was wondering if daily intake of low dose bupe might exert anti-depressant effects when all common classes of antidepressants have failed. i thought about it again, and since i'd have to take it daily, i'd definitely develop a physical dependency, and while all antidepressants do that, most are are not as unpleasant to withdraw from as an opioid. so yeah, i shitcanned the idea. tricomb made some really good suggestions per PM, and i guess i'm still looking for an easy, chemical way out of my depression. apparently for some people there is none. i seem to be one of these people. so now i'll have to remind myself daily that i'm basically fighting for my life and that any excersion is worth it if it finally makes my life worth living again. i don't know, my whole mindset was always set on chemicals and drugs and i once seriously believed that if i juggled the right amount of different drugs in the right dosages, i'd be right as rain. but then again, i was never very sensible, and that that's a horrible idea is probably apparent even to a 12 year old, but 21-year old me thought it was pure genius. i guess it's time to change that as chemicals/drugs may have given me incredible highs, but continually deteriorated my mental well-being. time to bite the bullet i guess and start the really hard path that is regular excersive, minimal to no non-medicinal drug intake and and attempting to overcome my inherent distrust and dislike when it comes to people in general. i don't know if i'll make it, i don't know if i'll manage to turn my life around, but by god, if i don't try with all i got i might as well just take the nearest razorblade, pour myself a nice warm bath, open up a few major veins or arteries and grab a toaster for good measure and end it once and for all. as far as shitty solutions go, it's pretty high up there, but it beats a slow, protracted death by alcoholism. even though i don't enjoy life much i want to live so i guess there's only one thing to do. and since i could end my life right now but choose not to the only thing left to do is start living better. it's probably gonna be the hardest thing i've ever faced, and will be full of disappointments, anxiety, desperation, etc. etc.
but at this point in my life, it's probably the only way there is, if i ever want to live a life of at least moderate contentment. i don't know where i'll draw the strength and the discipline and all that to basically turn my life around so drastically. but the past days on this stim made a few things clear to me: i will always be addiction prone, and there's no cure for that. you can only manage it, usually by total abstinence. i'll probably always be depressed and will have horrible days full of suicidal ideation and despair. but as long as those things are the exception, and not the norm, like they have been for more than half my life, then i've gained more than i ever could've hoped for. i sort of have tricomb to thank for playing a part in facilitating this epiphany, it was already there before we talked, but somehow our PMs gave it a clarity it lacked beforehand and that i desperately needed.
so am i looking forward to this? about as much as i'd look forward to a spinal tap or a colonoscopy. but some things just need to be done. at this point of my life, i really only have two choices. live or die. and if my one suicide attempt taught me anything, then it's that all life wants to live. it also taught me that i either have a shitton of luck or an unnatural tolerance to certain drugs. the cocktail i took (1g doxepin, 10 grams quetiapine, 800mgs dominal, 1 gram tramadol, 600mgs codeine, 1g diazepam, 2g chlorprothixene, a small bottle of MCP to prevent vomiting, washed down with a fifth of vodka) was very consciously designed to kill me, and they found me about 18 hours after i ingested all that, so no more stomach pumping possible and i don't know what they did in the ICU but i survived even though i should have been stone fucking dead. the doctors flat out said that surviving that cocktail was against all medical odds. i was in a coma for, i don't even know how long, maybe 4-5 days, and then came 3-4 days of drifting in and out of consciousness, and consciousness was actually severe delirium. i had long talks with my mother for example, who had been dead for six years at that point. it took about ten days until i regained a modicum of clear thought, and how i managed to convice the doctors in this state that it wasn't a suicide attempt, that i was just drunk and wanted to get really high i don't know. no way in hell they bought that load of shit, but apparently there's always the possibility of extreme stupidity, so i was released after ten days in icu against medical advice. it tought me a few very important things: the human body is very hard to kill. there is no surefire way to end one's life. and most importantly: suicide fucking sucks. all life wants to live. i've often had suicidal ideation since, but it stayed exactly that, a thought in my head. i know that the only circumstance where i will again attempt to end my life is if i'm diagnosed with a terminal disease, like cancer. after seeing my mother go that way i knew that the slow decay of cancer is pretty much one of the worst ways to go. it's actually not that dissimilar to the alcoholism i've been subjecting myself too, the big difference being that cancer doesn't just stop killing you if you quit drinking. i know i already damaged my fine motorics, my cognitive abilities, my stomach and my liver with my alcoholism. and for what? alcohol doesn't even make me happy, like heroin or coke. in fact, 90% of the time i'm drunk, i'm a lot more miserable than i am sober.
really sorry for the long winded rant, i'm at a point in my life where it's literally do or die.
also, i was in psychotherapy for five years. didn't help much. wanna hear something really funny? my father is a psychologist, and from what his patients say actually quite a competent one. it still makes me giggle, in a very cynical, mirthless way.
be stronger than depression, or at the very least, try.
