Anyone Here Been in the Real Depths of a Drug Addiction?
40 replies, posted
homie dont play that
[media]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_QhuBIkPXn0[/media]
Probably one of the worst aspects of addiction is tolerance, erowid states that around 100mg of K will k-hole most, as I progressed to my peak I could end up doing 500mg-1g in two lines and still be mostly sober, sure occasionally my body would act drunk but my mind was usually quite clear and missing what it used to experience with the hallucinations etc.
Heroin is pretty similar as I vaguely touched on above, luckily due to stopping after a month it didn't have that long to progress but I remember my first dosages were around 10mg and that was too much when I started, making me OD and be sick everywhere but then before I stopped I remember using a 0.4g (400mg) bag in one night trying to regain the high, funnily around 0.2-0.5g is the range at which it becomes fatal to a non user.
Erowid is a good source for addiction experiences if you have a look around
Tolerance is real bitch yeah.
[QUOTE=Smooth-e;28016024]Get baked with friends, or get baked and then chill with friends. Its the best[/QUOTE]
It's really rare they want to do it, they think it will fuck them up. Me on the other hand, I smoke it erry night.
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’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’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’s dangerous. Don’t look at him. She glares at me disapprovingly, and scrunches her face up as if she can smell my afflictions.
We’re praying to the same God, aren’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’m so lonely, and my only friend is killing me. There’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’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’t breathe, can’t sleep, can’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’s carried out the door to the ambulance, and all he wants is to be asleep. As he’s rolled into the ambulance, the officers ask if anyone would like to ride with him. He already knows the answer, but it doesn’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’t already know. This needs to end here, he knows it.
...
I step out of the clinic’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’s here for one reason and only one. He’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’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]
[QUOTE=Dirtbox;27999429]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[/QUOTE]
popping ecstasy once a day wouldn't do a lot
serotonin doesn't regenerate that quickly
I was addicted to weed for awhile.
It started this summer and lasted until several months into the beginning of fall semester... I took summer school and was getting straight A's in Calculus and General Chemistry II while remaining baked all the time. Having no challenge in my classes made me smoke even more since there was no consequences. I was so bored with my life. I had nothing to do and no girlfriend.
School's challenging again and I got a girlfriend. I was finally able to quit but withdrawls were a BITCH.
i love your story i was really drawn into it winner in my book
I'm going to use that story as a template, or the way it's structured for something similar I have to do
[QUOTE=En-Guage V2;28045940]I'm going to use that story as a template, or the way it's structured for something similar I have to do[/QUOTE]
And you're not even going to be polite and ask permission?
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