I never thought...

"…you'd be a junkie because heroin is so passe… But today, if you think that I don't know about depression and emotional pain, you're insane, or you're a fool that hasn't paid attention to a word that I say… I can't help but feel responsible, I always knew that you were insane, with your pain… Now a-day, you never thought you'd get addicted, just be cooler in an obvious way, I could say, shouldn't you have got a couple piercings and decided maybe that you were gay…
But I never thought you'd be a junkie because…"

Hah! I call bullshit. How is dealing X to support a coke habit all that different? Parties in lofts with loud music, cokewhores and so much white, white Pura Yayo you go snowblind just walking in the room. But a few months ago, hey? Wasn't that you that told me go in the other room, needles make you uncomfortable and *now* you're calling frequently asking for what's made my life a hairy mess and quickly catching up to me and my habit??? I see no issues now with needles… Oh but smack, that's going too far, you say now. If I didn't care for and have such reverence and respect for you, I wouldn't express concern. You don't want to end up in my shoes, but if you're going to hop on my express train to Nowhereland, fuck man, let's get fucked up proper on heroin, or "her'ron" as all the brothers call it cous'. Know what I mean dawg?

And you, fucking Christ. Can't talk to me because 'I'm a trigger' for YOUR dope habit?! Fuck it man, be a pussywhipped little dopesick dickhead who can't be honest about why you quit. I tried to make peace with your lying ass. Screw it AND your double standard though. If I ever see you again… just stay away. Shit. Three weeks ago you too were blending the brown with the red in the orange off the silver. More for me!
You all know who you are, what I'm saying and know it's true. Bah…

Such a lonely BIG habit. Mother Superior jumped the gun (again); every ~true~ dopefiend knows the ritual:
I call it the "Rubberband Game". Broke as shit, in debt to all your friends and the bank. Living in a shotgun shack, wishing ya had a doub to throw down on some'a that brown crystal shite. Not that black tar shit, that shit sucks by comparison… but hell, it'll do in a pinch. Take that coffeemaker back for sixteen bucks, has it been ten days since I wrote that bad check? Try n' scam the other four duckets off your next door neighbor who probably won't go for it, that junkie scumbag, fuck, he's licking his wounds too. See he's got his own habit to nurse. But gotta get that doub cuz I'm sweating bullets, shitting liquid, and insomnia cursed doubly with crippling pain in your back from that retarded car accident, the lactic acid in your extremities such a bitch. Grinding on them teeth, need a shower. Fuck!!! The nightmare never ends, hahaha oh woe is me, I need that skag to get across town in one piece cuz today I'll be outta my clonidine and benzos and then I'm really fucked.
But all those Devil Kisses aka trackmarks n' bruises where ya missed tryin' to spike two nights ago, that shit's GOTTA heal before seeing the new pill pushing quack, the one ya got stuck with cuz ya became a high risk patient at the ol' pain clinic. Fuck a rehab, "sober living house", Suboxone or methadone clinic: The REAL goodies are MS Contin, Oxycontin, Dilaudid, Norco, ~prescription~ methadone (sooo much classier than that pink liquid shit), fentanyl patches, codeine and promethazine syrup--fuck yeah, get down with them Leans!--or the Almighty Opana… mmm! Guilty pleasure, such guilt and such pleasure… alright. How am I gonna get twenty together to mix the brown with the red from the orange off the silver? Maybe that black tar shit but only if there's trouble out copping…

Smoke half a cigarette n' think. Hey that one dude runnin' the tax scam owes ya twenty still, how can I conn him into bringing it this way? Did he take his shitty tasting pussyass Suboxone today, cuz if so he ain't doin' shit for ya. N' fuck, he always asks to hit 'im the neck cuz he cannot find good veins to save his miserable little junkie life 'cept in his hands sometimes; how the fuck'd he ever get hooked on smack in the first place? Damn this sucks. He already gave ya a forty sack of okay tar and $17.50 after the ATM fee plus a Suboxone 8mg tab last week (screw Suboxone cuz'a that Narcan shit… Narcan blows 'cept in the ICU after an overdose but preferably at yer pad just in case so ya ain't gotta take that trip to the hospital). Yeah. Ain't gonna happen. Already spent that $17.00 on a doub of brown two nights back: And FUUUCK was it amazing or what???! Never been so high as off that African brown crystal skag in my LIFE. That's some seeeriooous dope!!!!! Such a dangerous game, but a ten year old habit to a drug whose success rate at quitting in the U.S. alone is 5% of all dopefiends (or less) is near impossible to defeat. Got that STD test coming up. Who gives a shit though. The Kingdom of Hopeless Dreams, Spilled Milk and Forgotten Yesterdays though fleeting, as they is ever so humble, cuz ain't no place like home. With dope, a bent, burned spoon, a little water, an old belt and a pack of ten points, 29 gauge with the long points. Mmm yeah. I guess 50% of all users who've been exposed to other cats' blood have Hep C. Wonder how many have HIV? Who cares. More worried about scoring or better yet slamming… or a fuckin' amputation from a gangrene infection. Or cotton fever (none of which have ever afflicted me cuz I'm methodically clean compared to most fiends). Still though, The Insulin Rig Roulette is mighty dangerous shit.

"I'm waiting for my man, got twenty-six dollars in my hand, up to Lexington, 125, feel sick and dirty, more dead than alive, I'm waiting for my man…
Hey white boy, what you doin' uptown?
Hey white boy, you chasin' our women around?
Oh pardon me sir, it's the furthest from my mind, I'm just waiting for a dear, dear friend of mine, I'm waiting for my man…
Here he comes, he's all dressed in black, beat up shoes and a big straw hat, he's never early, he's always late, first thing you learn is that you always gotta wait, I'm waiting for my man…
Hey baby don't you holler, darlin' don't you bawl and shout, I'm feeling good, I'm gonna work it on out, I'm feeling good, feeling so fine, until tomorrow but that's just some more time, I'm waiting for my man…"
"Teenage Mary said to Uncle Dave, I sold my soul, must be saved, gonna take a walk down to Union Square, you never know who you're gonna find there…
You gotta run, run, run, run, run, take a drag or two, run, run, run, run, run, Gypsy Death and you, tell you whatcha do…
Martguerita Passion had to get her fix, she wasn't well, she was getting sick, went to sell her soul, she wasn't high, she didn't know, thinks she could buy it…
And she would run, run, run, run, run, take a drag or two, run, run, run, run, run, Gypsy Death and you, tell you whatcha do…
Seasick Sarah had a golden nose, hobnail boots wrapped around her toes, when she turned blue, all the angels screamed, they didn't know, they couldn't make the scene…
She had to run, run, run, run, run, take a drag or two, run, run, run, run, run, Gypsy Death and you, tell you whatcha do…
Beardless Harry, what a waste, couldn't even get a small-town taste, rode the trolleys down to forty-seven, figured he was good to get himself to Heaven…
'Cause he had to run, run, run, run, run, take a drag or two, run, run, run, run, run, Gypsy Death and you, tell you whatcha do…"
……………and, of course:

The timeless tale every junkie knows all too well. It's the tale of Sisyphus, of Dorothy in Oz, asleep, nodding in the field of Papaver Somniferum, like the great big tattoo of that scene I've got branded on my left shoulder where it'll be 'til my death, like the hornet pointing its arrow at the crook of your arm, if you know the experience that is to say. It's a full-time job, a commitment to not giving a shit. That endorphin rush, the depressed respiration, the tale of Morpheus and that peculiar, wrong looking cooked liquid, a little warm, ever so tempting gone beneath the epidermis into that favorite vein all pock-marked with scars:
"I don't know where I'm going, but I'm going to try for the kingdom if I can, 'cause it makes me feel like I'm a man, when I put a spike into my vein, and I'll tell ya, things aren't quite the same, when I'm rushing on my run, and I feel just like Jesus' son, and I guess that I just don't know, and I guess that I just don't know, I have made the big decision to nullify my life, 'cause when the blood begins to flow, when it shoots up the dropper's neck, when I'm closing in on death, and you can't help me, not you guys, and all you sweet girls with all your sweet silly talk, you can all go take a walk, and I guess that I just don't know, and I guess that I just don't know, I wish that I was born a thousand years ago, I wish that I'd sailed the darkened seas, on a great big clipper ship, going from this land here to that, on a silor's suit and cap, away from the big city, where a man cannot be free, of all the evils of this town, and of himself, and those around, oh, and I guess I just don't know, oh, and I guess I just don't know, Heroin be the death of me, Heroin, it's my wife and it's my life, because a Mainer to my vein, leads to a center in my head, and then I'm better off than dead, because when the smack begins to flow, I really don't care anymore, about all the Jim-Jims in this town, and all the politicians makin' busy sounds, and everybody puttin' everybody else down, and all the dead bodies piled up in mounds, 'cause when the smack begins to flow, then I really don't care anymore, when the heroin is in my blood, and that blood is in my head, then thank God that I'm good as dead, then thank your God that I'm not aware, and thank God that I just don't care, and I guess that I just don't know, and I guess that I just don't know…"

And oh that magic feeling, nowhere to go. It's the Pledge of Allegiance of Lost Souls. I'd never wish it upon anyone, anywhere for any amount of anything, except of course another fix. Preferably in the comfort of my little hovel. By myself, after dark, where I can get lost on the nod quietly, peacefully and in deathly silence.

Only two and a half more days of Hell. Thank God for clonidine and alprazolam and loperamide but if that neighbor has four bucks and I can take back the coffeemaker, oh! Or if she's got her Vicodin………it's a neverending madhouse ain't it?

Sigh. Call it what you will, sure I'm aware not even Lou Reed will play that tune, fuck if I care any more than Anton Newcombe if it's passe either, frankly Scarlet I just don't give a damn. I'll have my lunch naked thank you. Just as soon as...

Yeah. You simply can't take the spots off a dog. All you fiends know it's so.

 

.......opiates are terrifying.

 

can you make a tldr version?..

Thanks..

 

Yes. But first I need to know what that is and how to do so.

My only aim in writing this was catharsis and to open an honest and real dialogue about the complexities surrounding true opioid addiction.

I take notice that when I or anyone else afflicted with this Satanic Lullaby writes jackshit about it in ANY context of reality I and they are either written off as idiotic scum or attacked, ridiculed, scorned or shamed into some sort of hidden form of our addiction or some kind of sitewide obedience in order to be taken seriously.

I personally believe Suboxone is cheating and a cheap way of treatment. Real society actually backs that up and trying to get a real job when you take opioids other than for pain management is unrealistic and laced with false hope. Rehab or treatment at Suboxone and methadone clinics or residence at a sober living facility actually mars your chances significantly. The reality is that a cocaine addiction or the regular use of ecstasy in society fares better than even occasionally using heroin. The reactions here simply are an amplification of societal pressure. I am not going to live a lie. Every junkie I've ever met suffers from crippling anxiety, depression and other mental illness while simultaneously living their lives out in constant ridicule and seclusion. It is a complex issue unfairly swept under the rug. Not one junkie I know of has true support from friends or family and in fact usually has little family or friends in their corner.

I have been away for a bit, I come back on here and write a few posts sober that show my smarts, education and intellect and it's almost as if people reward me, see me differently and sigh in relief that I'm not dead as if almost expected to be so. You probably have more open views, but few seem to.

The fact is I'd been a junkie for seven years before joining hipforums and nothing has changed in that regard except that I'm actually attempting in reality to clean up my act a bit. I still do use dope. And yes RooRshack, from an outside view opiates are terrifying but from an insider's perspective they quell that anxiety and depression like nothing else can. Even Suboxone or Subutex which both drugs partially antagonize opioid receptor sites unlike the rest which all agonize those sites by flooding the brain with endorphins both aid in treating anxiety and depression. That's their magic touch, but also what makes them so dangerous and makes people like as sick as I am now in their absence.

And it is true, I did use about a quarter gram of heroin from Africa or the Middle East two nights ago that indeed did get me higher than any opioid experience I've had in a decade of use; I now myself fully grasp the pull of heroin and why people prefer it to it pharmaceutical opiates. Fuck is ever powerful. It kept me high off four shots in a row for nearly a day and a half for $17.00. Nothing has come close to that shy of methadone, but methadone seems to dull the mind where heroin seems to sharpen it.

This is a real social issue people. Thanks for reading.

 

This looks interesting. I have shared many life experiences with the OP before so I look forward to reading this. I might have to copy and paste it into a Word Processor though since it is hard on the eyes with standard-hip-forums type-face.

 

I think the reason that few junkies have real friends or family left is because they betray them over and over, just because of a chemical. Just like alcoholics, the only people who want to be around full blown junkies are other junkies.

And tldr is too long, didn't read.

 

That's a good post, CosmoKnot. And Roorshack is right, it's kind of terrifying. But some of the things in there I can relate to. I just hope I never get to the point that I understand it all.

 

the word "Nut" or "Nuts" was not used in all that text. Which is actually pretty amazing when you think about it.

 

Yeah etkearne, sadly you do seem to have shared a number of tragic experiences with me and share in common a disturbed mind with me--sorry to be so frank about it, but I know schizo-affective disorder is no picnic.

People always think I'm lying or full of shit when I let loose what MY comorbidities are. I have chronic intractable pain from a wedge compression fracture of my T5 vertebrae, PTSD, bipolar II with rapid cycling, insomnia, generalized anxiety disorder, OCD, panic disorder, dysgogic dreams, adult ADHD, pseudo-Parkinson's disease (from goddamn atypical antipsychotic meds!!!), SAD, CFS caused by a likelihood of an Epstein-Barr virus infection and though I've easily beaten a methamphetamine, cocaine and alcohol addiction with grace, I doubt I'll ever stop opies nor benzos. So I obviously have addiction issues and my history here clearly indicates strong self-control issues, that being my main reason for taking a hiatus from the psychedelic scene. Abusing things like MDMA and LSD has proven both to be detrimental to my mental health and quite contrary to why I ever returned to their use after twenty years of abstinence in the first place.

In fact, psychedelia intrigued me TO aid in healing my mental illnesses. So I sincerely have given them a big break.

 

TLDR; reminds me of reddit for some reason lol

Opiates (Looks at naughty drug list) Yep never touching that

 

I would not use a word like "nuts" because I've been called shit like that my whole life.

And RooRshack, that's a common misperception of both alcoholics AND junkies. Honest people are honest whether struggling with addiction or not and the same goes for dishonest people. I'm honest to a fault and am often taken advantage of for being so.

I never fuck anyone over but the reverse is not so. I always pay my debts, some are currently over a year old (two actually), but I never forget.

Shit, in reference to the value of DMT: rather than charge a DIME, I GAVE AWAY over 12-16 grams...yeah I was even offered a paying gig extracting mescaline and DMT but turned it down for ethical reasons.

 

op nailed it...or i suppose in this instance he spiked it....nice post... considering all those diagnoses it was even readable....i sometimes dwell on the money i poured down the drain...and by drain i mean pipe...

 

Thank you, and I actually forgot two diagnoses, one: temporal lobe brain damage from my car accident which effects my affectation, short-term memory, and judgement. And two: it's sort of undetermined which it is, but either mild autism or Asperger's disease.

The two main reasons I'd gauge I'm easily taken advantage of.

 

Hey orison buddy, sorry to renege on the "tldr" thing, but I have justification for the length of my opening post and since I'm not "hip" enough to Internet slang, had no idea that means "too long, didn't read". Those who want to read it will, those who don't won't okay? I notice that being as directly controversial and ever the devil's advocate here though that if I fart an e-fart in a corner on this forum it rarely goes unnoticed so I do believe many will take the time to read my long-ass post.

Hell, you posted tldr and read it anyway yourself so I doubt it's an issue. Now if a certain few read it... we shall see THAT outcome. But I think I was pretty blunt while also being careful not to reveal anything personal nor be so direct as to make waves. I suppose the ball's in their courts though and any adverse reactions will come as PM's.

So far, so good though.

 

I'm not saying you're a bad guy. I've always seen you to be cool, if a little bit extreme with dosing and combos.

Some people just show their true colours, but ones you might never have seen as much of, when they're addicts. Some actually change. Some don't. But addiction will drive people who might not be good guys to really fuck you over, when they otherwise would never be so out of control. So people are weary of addicts for that reason.

Also, while on drugs, most addicts do act different, maybe it's what pre-disposes them to addiction in the first place, I don't know. Like I know a few people I really like sober, but when they drink, I HATE them..... And they love the bottle, so I steer clear of them.

 

Okay RooRshack, fair points indeed. I was wary of what you'd said because it seemed in stark contrast to your in-your-face views on cognitive liberty. Obviously I was mistaken so sorry for that.
I actually made a few real life references to people I either have seen transform into serious addicts to one thing or another or people I've met along the way in the course of my own addiction that either would never have become such [blank] people if not for their lack of self-control or who've been so damaged from addiction for so long, they'd fuck their own mothers (over) to cop a buzz; or some who've got this twisted form of what I can only call druggie logic that navigates their ethics. Some are lost causes, others I've tried countless times to reach out to and shake sense into, others burned bridges and a few just shady as fuck. Only a few do opies though.

Addiction does destroy some beautiful minds, sadly. I'll be damned if I'd ever let it destroy mine though. It's a fight however.

 

Greetings all, firstly I would like to give major kudos to Cosmoknot on this thread. To me this was an incredibly honest, real, and emotional piece that truly hit home. SO many points were brought up that I agree and would like to add to, I am going to attempt to add my thoughts a little.

Firstly this thread hit directly home for me. For the last five years of my so far short life I have taken opiates. In the last three I started using them pretty heavily, and in the last two years have become, in my own personal sense, a pretty dependent heroin addict. I am sure MANY people reading this are already now thinking to themselves im another small time waster, some junkie scum. If you think that, well think that, I know what I am, yes I am a heroin addict, but I am NOT a bad person, or waste of life or anything like that. I think about heroin every single day of my life since I have started using it. During fantastic periods where I have gone without dope for months I think about it, and now when my last shot of IV diamorphine was less than 30 minutes ago.

I NEVER THOUGHT, that I would be where I am today. I still remember the exact time I first even saw a bag of heroin. A stamp bag from a medium sized city in New Jersey with an image of the rapper Lil Wayne on it, like its namesake, the dope sucked. I never thought that I would put buying dope over buying food and new clothes for myself. Also I never knew I would continue to put people I love through so much hurt for a tiny amount of tannish brown powder that I will suck into a needle, jab my body with and escape.

As cosmoknot said in the OP, for myself and many other opiates are a great way to get away from certain things. For me a huge issue in my life was anxiety. My social anxiety as well as auditory hallucinogens, and depression all went away when I did some kind of opiates. At first pills, but when I started shooting up dope, wow, whole other ball game. I graduated highschool in 2010 and started attending a pretty prestigious university outside of Philadelphia, PA. Got into the school with multiple scholarships but I was a deeply unhappy young man. My anxiety crippled everything around me. Cannot put into words how awful it was. Anyone who suffers seriously from clinical anxiety knows the often horrific aspects. Sometime during my first few months at school I started shooting dope. Suddenly everything I tried to do, I did. No worries, no shame of being me, no negativity. After a while I started getting sick.

I am actually going to cut this first post short and not continue in the direction that I was going with this. Couple of things away from the computer are coming up. However, one last point in this post. I am greatly upset by how here on HF, other media outlets, and sadly many of my very close friends in real life now judge me for the very same thing that they did/ still do. Just because I have this affliction, this disease does not mean I am any less than you.
I am not currently sick from heroin as I have been in the past. I do not use dope every single day, many times a day like I have in the past. My main issue since reducing my usage has been the MENTAL aspect of it all. Although dope is terribly detrimental to me, the high/’positives’ are all appealing to me. The amount of time I spend thinking about this drug is incredible. Just imagining that little first spec of blood as you register, and then the plunger smashing down to the end of the barrel.

Dope has in fact killed me before. I was with three friends, all of us caught up in pretty bad addictions to dope and coke. To make a long and frankly terrifying story short; we copped some stuff in Camden, NJ. Drove back over into Philadelphia, PA to shoot up. I had been in Europe for over a month ( proved as a tolerance break) to visit my family, all of whom live there. Got back to NJ and next day went down and copped. I was the first one to try out the new dope we had, over eager to shoot up because I hadn’t in OH HORROR a little over a month. Pushed that plunger down and I remember sinking, losing all movement, then vision, then hearing, then everything. Blissful high. I woke up about 10 minutes later with three friends high out of their minds in hysterics, one my best friend and member here on HF giving me CPR on a sidewalk in the middle of Philadelphia. They managed to get my heart started again.

The insanity of my addiction? The NEXT day I went back and bought more heroin. We found out then that the heroin I had shot was cut with fentanyl.

In fact a small announcement to my friend here on HipForums, you guys won’t be hearing from me for a little while as in a matter of hours, I am for the first time entering into a residential rehabilitation program in Memphis, TN. Flying up there tomorrow and will be in the program about a month. Personally I do not think that this is the best way to get over this affliction but I have never tried this approach before. Wish me luck everyone.

I apologize if there are a lot of spelling and grammatical errors in this post. I have not been sleeping well at all recently. I cut this post short for the same reason. Did not write this for any pity, I honestly want to show serious support for my brother cosmoknot, and anyone else that can relate to this terrible struggle. He did a sublime job with this post I cannot praise it enough. One of the best I have read on Hip Forums. My life is no longer going to be put on hold by this addiction, I am moving forward, in whichever way possible.
Love and Light to All.

 

Props for actually breaking the news on HF. Relevant: Posters friend, try Ibogaine out of respect for your friends journey.

 

Thank you hahaha for your honesty. In all actuality I was too embarrassed to ever admit to my addiction struggles until the day my buddy godmachine was blatantly honest about hers, given total bullshit advice and scorn from the community which pissed me the fuck off but also forced me to examine my own life.

So really my hat goes off to her, she's a great person and free of her addiction from what I understand. Kudos to you hahaha and good luck, much love, and true gratitude to you. I wish you the best and your presence here will be missed by me.

 

nah, I read most of it. I probably use cannabis like you do heroin.
where I live guns are still involved in the daily life of a pot smoker, grower..
drugs always interest me, but many of them get boring. why cannabis dont get boring., I just dont know.
i have script of percs, once had 20mg OC, but it wasnt the doctor that changed them it was me. it was probably the opiates that got me thru my dads death. and that grumpy bastard didnt do his dope either, so that was another win for me.. opiates ruin my weed buzz, so I just dont like them. Id sell them mostly, still do. i cant get rid of my percs much easier than I can 20mg oc .. go figure. and I get $5ea for them just about all the time.
time in my life when I was selling crack, those were the crazy time. ya get no sleep lol snaps calling all day and night. good times with it too though..