• Anyone Here Been in the Real Depths of a Drug Addiction?
    40 replies, posted
[b]UPDATE: I finished the story, read/cc below if you're interested.[/b] Hey all, here's a bit of an unusual request. In English we're doing a topic called 'Belonging', which essentially studies how humans feel a need to gain a sense of belonging, to themselves/groups/friends/families/society at large/etc etc, as well as the various barriers to belonging and reasons people do and don't belong, blah blah blah. Cutting to the chase, I'm writing a short story, and I decided I might try one from the perspective of a drug addict, perhaps looking to recover. I thought a good way to get started for some inspiration would be to hear some personal experiences of people that have experienced both the highs and lows of a serious drug addiction. Unfortunately Google only returns anti-drug media and the like, but I'll continue searching. So in the meantime, if anyone here has experienced anything related to this, I'd be infinitely appreciative of anything you'd like to share. Anything from your feelings towards the drug, towards society at the time of addiction, how you interacted with other people, the connections you made and/or lost, the way you felt, how you recovered, if you relapsed, what you thought of yourself; anything really. Of course it goes without saying, no names are going to be mentioned, in fact nothing at all is going to be directly used. This is purely to get some ideas and inspiration. Thanks, all replies are appreciated! <3 [editline]12th February 2011[/editline] Bump, thanks for all the replies guys. I finished my story, so any comments/criticism would be great! [quote]An explosion of wooden splinters suspended around him, frozen in motion. The distant hum of traffic, slowed down to a crawl. Beads of sweat, motionless in their descent down his forehead. Caught in this moment, with nothing more than the dope in his hands and in his veins. And the smile on his face. Then, a gunshot. A bullet whizzes past his ear, singeing his right lobe. Immediately thrown out of the trance by the sudden pain, the drug begins to really take over, sending his body into overdrive. He bursts into a sprint straight down the rusted metal stairs, taking two, three at a time. Invincible. Across the courtyard. Another bullet ricochets off of the concrete below his feet. He slides over the bonnet of the blue sedan parked in the driveway. He vaults the fence without hesitation, before taking off down the alley. He&#8217;s around the corner before he takes a breath. ... I look up at the cascade of coloured light refracted through the stained glass window. Entering the aged building, I sit at the end of the closest pew, beside a child and his mother. He looks up at me, with curiosity in his innocent eyes. He studies my features; the thick bags under my bloodshot eyes, the bedraggled mess of hair upon my head, the emaciated frame of my body. I smile at him, revealing the dark taints staining my teeth, which contrast with my ghostly pale complexion. He returns a smile, but his mother isn&#8217;t as welcoming to my genuine gesture. Grabbing his hand, she pulls him closer to her, protecting him from the bad man. Stay away from him, he&#8217;s dangerous. Don&#8217;t look at him. She glares at me disapprovingly, and scrunches her face up as if she can smell my afflictions. We&#8217;re praying to the same God, aren&#8217;t we? I turn back to my own thoughts, bowing my head in reverence. I want this to be over. I need this to be over. I need to connect with people again; real people, real connections. I&#8217;m so lonely, and my only friend is killing me. There&#8217;s nobody else for me. The friends I started with all went their ways; all of us prioritizing scoring over seeing each other. I hope I&#8217;m not the only one beginning to feel this way. So alone, I begin to wonder if even God hears me. I need this to be over. ... A new level of pain takes hold; can&#8217;t breathe, can&#8217;t sleep, can&#8217;t think. The line between emotional and physical pain is blurred, removed completely, resulting in a state of complete hopelessness. Only one goal, one fix, one salvation, one friend. Empty the powder onto the spoon. Mix in the water. Heat, stir, filter. Secure the arm just over the elbow with a belt. Hold tight. Locate vein. Pierce skin. Inject. ... He opens his eyes. Confused, disorientated. Where was he? Men and women stand around and above him, some in uniform, and others in tears. Police, ambulance officers, family, friends. Could he breathe? Yes, but with significant effort. Unable to answer any more questions, he lay there silently, taking in the situation. He turns his head to see his equipment left out, scattered on the ground beside him. Guilt, shame, dismay. The paramedics roll him onto the stretcher, as if he were already a corpse. He&#8217;s carried out the door to the ambulance, and all he wants is to be asleep. As he&#8217;s rolled into the ambulance, the officers ask if anyone would like to ride with him. He already knows the answer, but it doesn&#8217;t stop the tears from coming when they all shake their head, too ashamed to even look at him. The doors close at his feet, and he closes his eyes. The paramedic shakes his head at him, as if he doesn&#8217;t already know. This needs to end here, he knows it. ... I step out of the clinic&#8217;s rotating doors, and take a deep breath of fresh air. I stand there for a moment, pausing to take in the environment. The smell of freshly cut grass and a cool ocean breeze swirl into my nose, and the sound of rolling waves soothe my reformed mind. The sun, at the final stages of its descent, paints the skies in deep purples and reds, setting the clouds above on fire. I begin walking down the footpath in the direction of my home, holding my head up high, finally feeling a part of the world again. At last, my smiles are met with smiles. Darkness has taken hold by the time I reach my street. I approach my house, immediately realizing that something is amiss. My door has been smashed open, and the blue automobile parked on my lawn causes my stomach to drop. I stand there momentarily, attempting to decide on the next course of action. I take a few gingerly steps towards my front door, before becoming awash with regret, and fear. The passenger door swings open, and my dealer steps out. He&#8217;s here for one reason and only one. He&#8217;s here to finish what he started, to finish what I started. My own self-destruction has ultimately led to this. My attempts at saving myself only ever brought me more suffering, and now my ultimate rebirth has been met by the reaper himself. He cocks the pistol, raising it in line with my forehead. Accepting my fate, I close my eyes and pray. Maybe now there&#8217;ll be a seat saved for me somewhere else, somewhere far away from here. I've never really been the best guest at this table.[/quote] Harsh and honest critique, please and thank you.
I used to be addicted to weed, bad times...
Two 'real' addictions as I'd term it, I'd stray from writing anything based on drugs you've never experienced. If you're IV'ing heorin you sure as fuck won't be running around. (Although I did once cycle 10 miles while on opiates and kept going just because I couldn't feel any pain at all) The first I had was after a month of using H, I wouldn't call it a full blown addiction, which is probably why I managed to break it, I could tell that I was beginning to get addicted, and so broke the cycle. I noticed that every day was simply counting down to my next dose. When I wasn't using I couldn't get to sleep at all, I was tired and lethargic all day. Noticing the physical impacts made me get off it, because I knew if I spent another month on it I'd have become fully addicted. Before I stopped I was reaching the point where my normal dose wouldn't give me the high I craved, so I would keep dosing until I was close to passing out, just to feel the bliss. I came to associate the vomiting with the pleasure of the high and probably ended up enjoying it as it was a signal that I was close to my peak. Even now, half a year after quitting I still miss it, I'd say after it grows on you it's probably the best thing you ever try, drug wise. My other addiction was/is more so in my mind, I've been a user of K for around a year and half now, it was all fine and dandy to begin with but after a while I began to develop bladder problems and random pains. I've managed to not use for a month before but it just brings me back, I think my erratic mind, depressive states and the fact it's similar to H in that it allows me to escape from reality is why I use it. I'm currently attempting to slowly ween myself off it, which has worked before but I have to consider to what end, my friends all recreationally use it and I know little else, once I'm off it I've got to try and rebuild a life I never had, not easy. Annnd that's all I think there is to my experience, personally I feel if this is all I experience in the way of addiction in my life I'll be luckier than some.
[QUOTE=Mcfuret;27991499]I used to be addicted to weed, bad times...[/QUOTE] You used to be addicted to weed.. now you're addicted to meth. that's how it works, or so i hear
the only interesting story i have is when i mixed weed with Vicodin codeine and wine ended up throwing up in my toilet for 30 minutes it felt like i was in hell with the puking and the spinning i felt like someone took me and span me around so much, and my motor skills were so fucked up that was my worst experience i had
It's hard to define addiction because so many variations of it exists. There are people who can't physically stop using a drug because the drug has melted their mind. Then there is emotional addiction in which you may crave or what the feeling of being high. I was addicted to Meth for a few months in which I was almost physically addicted but was very emotionally addicted to the feeling. In my experiences the high of meth was incredible, you couldn't begin to fathom the intense amount of energy you have when you are on that shit. But the what really pushed me over the edge and made me realize I had an addiction was the craving after the highs and how crappy you felt on the come down. It felt like when you were on the come downs all the life in you was being sucked out and when you smoked more meth the life came back in you. For me, the come downs felt like finger nails scratching at my brain, I always had a gitteryness I couldn't stop, and as of now I have a mild case of insomnia from the effects of meth. (Unable to feel tired till 2AM at least)
Kinda got addicted to opiates after surgery. But it wasn't real hardcore shit or anything. I would never let myself become dependent on anything......besides weed of course.
I once been addicted to pills, for around a month or two I used to pop a pill (usually ecstasy) once or twice a day. I was more addicted to the effects than physically, but when I got forced to stop cause I entered juvie I puked the entire week-end like 10 - 15 times a day, even if nothing was going out... They brought me to a mental hospital and shit
I started having some withdrawal from the benzos I'm taking. It was more annoying than anything and I'm still taking them, just trying to limit the frequency. I was prescribed them for medical purposes and they do their job, just have to be sure not take them when I don't need them.
[QUOTE=Callius;27991678]Two 'real' addictions as I'd term it, I'd stray from writing anything based on drugs you've never experienced. If you're IV'ing heorin you sure as fuck won't be running around. (Although I did once cycle 10 miles while on opiates and kept going just because I couldn't feel any pain at all)[/QUOTE] Yeah I thought of that too, it first read "meth" but it didn't sound the way I wanted it to, and it's not like my teachers are going to know the difference between the effects of heroin and meth-amphetamines. Well, at least they shouldn't xP. Thanks for the replies guys, they've been helpful.
I've been addicted to many different drugs. i kicked most of my addictions by starting another
I've never told anyone or let on about it, but I used to do a lot of coke when I lived in california living in the mountains. I used to put it before the people I loved, but not anymore
DXM comes to mind as a mental addiction. I was depressed for about 3 months after I stopped. [editline]12th February 2011[/editline] Also, Belonging is the fucking worst area of study ever
You're an Australian, I know considering your previous post this might be insulting, but what is the medicine that DXM comes in, in Australia that is safe for consumption. I'm sorry if it seems offensive considering the circumstances
benzos.
Robotussin DX, don't go overboard [editline]12th February 2011[/editline] Benadryl dry cough will suffice if you don't mind having the shits due to the sorbitol
Right, thanks I'll take it easy. I'm still kind of wary of taking medicine to achieve a high. I don't want to fuck myself up or anything.
[QUOTE=En-Guage V2;28004461]Right, thanks I'll take it easy. I'm still kind of wary of taking medicine to achieve a high. I don't want to fuck myself up or anything.[/QUOTE] Tell us about the amount and shit before you take it
Yello.
[QUOTE=En-Guage V2;28004461]Right, thanks I'll take it easy. I'm still kind of wary of taking medicine to achieve a high. I don't want to fuck myself up or anything.[/QUOTE] what about weed?
I've never had any real addictions. I have however experienced first hand what it's like to live with someone who's trying to kick heroin and booze. My cousin, she lived with us for a few weeks with her baby. She was trying to give up, it wasn't so bad living with her as she was still incredibly friendly as well as being smart and sharp. There was the occasional arguments between her and my mum (who'd occasionally find singed bits of foil in the bathroom). She eventually just couldn't go cold turkey and she demanded to have my dad drive her back to her home, leaving her baby here who my parents fostered, then adopted, becoming my little brother :) We last saw her a few months ago and she's in a clinic but is still on prescribed opiate alternative (methadone if I'm correct). oh and crack
When there's an opportunity to get baked I take that over seeing my friends. Tonight is an example of this.
The whole methadone clinic shit is so fucking flawed. every patient needs an expert who's capable of dealing out tough love. to bad healthcare is so shit in most areas unless you got the money.
-snip-
[QUOTE=Dark_Light;28002701]Yeah I thought of that too, it first read "meth" but it didn't sound the way I wanted it to, and it's not like my teachers are going to know the difference between the effects of heroin and meth-amphetamines. Well, at least they shouldn't xP. Thanks for the replies guys, they've been helpful.[/QUOTE] Yeah I suppose, just inaccuracies like that annoy me, because they're similar to when people claim smoking weed can kill you etc. As long as you know that the effects of it aren't as you are portraying at least.
[QUOTE=Cypher_09;28013619]When there's an opportunity to get baked I take that over seeing my friends. Tonight is an example of this.[/QUOTE] Get baked with friends, or get baked and then chill with friends. Its the best
I got addicted to crack about 6 months ago. It started out as a one night thing, and turned into buying 20 rocks three or four times a night. I would spend almost all of my 300$ or so checks in a one weekend, and then spend two weeks flat broke. My parents would occasionally give me money for food, maybe 100 a week and I would spend essentially all of it on crack, except for maybe 15$ a week to get to work and back. I bought one bag of honeycombs a month as food to have at the house, other than that I only ate when we went to walmart. I went from 130lbs to 105lbs in about four months. I can remember searching for rocks on the floor when I'd run out, smoking anything white pretty much. I really can't remember too much from those times to be honest, every night was essentially the same. I pawned anything that the shops would take, and then I'd immediately go over to my dealers house and score. I introduced at least three or four people to crack, one of which ended up in rehab and another had to stop smoking weed because it makes her want to smoke rocks. I finally decided to quit after I spent my rent money on crack and got kicked out of my apartment. That part of my life is crazy to think about actually, feels like I was a different person. I was obsessed with getting more and more high, doing any and every drug I could find. Every time I would tell myself that this was the last time, but the craving would be too bad the next night and I'd always cave. On more than one occasion I left my house with 150$ or more in my wallet and ended up with 40 or less by the end of the night. I would drive over to my dudes house, score, and then drive around the block and smoke everything I had just gotten. Would do this for 20 or 40 dollars at a time, over and over again until I was completely broke. Then I'd usually got to work at 6am completely fucked up, eyes dilated with huge bags under them. Eventually I lost both my jobs because I kept coming in high and exhausted. At my worst, I did some things for rock that I've sworn to never mention or think about again.
yeah sucking dick for drugs is bad dude
[QUOTE=Smooth-e;28009176]Tell us about the amount and shit before you take it[/QUOTE] I'll be going to erowid to figure out a safe dosage I realize there are plateaus and stuff, I'm not going to down like 750 mg and see what happens first time around [editline]13th February 2011[/editline] [QUOTE=Zeemlapje;28009847]what about weed?[/QUOTE] lol you serious? Why would I be in DD and a regular poster in addicts lounge if I hadn't smoked weed
[QUOTE=NeoSeeker;28017205]yeah sucking dick for drugs is bad dude[/QUOTE] Never did that, entirely nonsexual.
Sorry, you need to Log In to post a reply to this thread.