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Core Topics => Opiates & Opioids => Drugs => Heroin => Topic started by: nikita70 on May 02, 2017, 12:53:37 PM
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Well, it might be not the smartest question ever, that fits rather into Bluelight than Opiophile/d&u (just kidding, not going to dispage/offence anyone, but honestly I'm just not a biggest fan of this site).
How do you think is the biggest H HABIT the person is able to develope AND deal with CT AND "get away with it alive and sane".
Wait, wait, give me a break and listen to me before you are going to mock me and laught me out of here.
I realize my question sounds childish enough, since I claim to be in the game for awhile, but keep in mind that even if I'm relatively well versed in methadone, bupe/everything pure/"pharmaceutical", living in Middle Europe/Poland and having to rely on my own or friends' homemade stuff ("kompot"-whatever the hell it was and despite the fact this shit was euphemistic called "heroin" regardless of how the proportions between the different opium derivates and alkaloids has the substance contained), I never had a chance to be familiar with what I call "real H/real dope".
I mean I'm completely dumbass as for weights, quantity' terms etc., etc.
As/while your measure for dope is weight, so you are talking about quarters, halfs, grams, bags, bricks etc., my stuff usually had had liquid face, so the only way to avoid completely confusion and misinformation were to learn about (and from) circumstances related.
So we used to predict the quality/properties/potency of our dope exactly the same way the ancient sorcerers and witches concluded about upcoming weather
("look at this, ripe cherry' tone with the sunny flash bodes well as for strenght and purity, but what I'm a little bit worried/bothered about is completely lack of the "yellow effect" melting down/spreading down the barrel. I also don't like it being not thick enough... and kinda "sparkling". Holy shit, it's not any fucking New Year but I'm pretty much afraid that awful smell of acid, it makes me think we gonna have here some nasty fireworks on entrance").
This is kinda funny, we, Middleastern users never knew for sure whether or not are withdrawal symptoms we have to go through as c/tying comparable with what "real users" experience as they get cut off their "real heroin".
I'm about bursting at the seams to ask this, in many ways, rhetorical question, namely how much common do we probably feel as kicking, excepting the fact we are obviously predisposed/inclined to share the same experience on some basical level, just because we are OPIATE, not coke or alkohol or anything else addicted.
So my question is rather for intensity and/or for the details.
I personally think that as long as we, "kompot" users, have to deal with the miscellany of different shortages/lacks, so to say, while detoxing (what might be really burdensome/tiring up and take longer to get you well since there's a lot of various alkaloids involved), you, heroin heads, might be suffering way more acute, inpredictable, drastically and severely.
Hell, people here in Poland are of course willing to... "dicksize"(? lol, is it really how you call it?) as for their habits, like any other junkies do.
Everyone is truly convinced that they are exactly that one who has developed the most decent sized/largest habit ever known.
We have a lot of gifted Drama Queens here (I'm one, too) ready to swear they were LITERALLY about to die as a result of some untreated or mistreated opiate CT w/d. There's always someone who throws/pukes further, shits stronger, if you tell them you didn't sleep a wink a month long you might be sure they are going to always overdo(se) it and add few "white nights" extra. But this is still about either "kompot" either methadone.
So, since I was never strung out on real dope (H) I'm just wondering if heroin w/d does somehow significantly differ from the other opies kicking.
I personally don't mind anything to listen to them wallowing in their memories, and gladly adding my few cents to keep conversations going on, like i.e. how I was curling on the floor trying to escape this agonizing pain but no matter what the hole I'd crawl into, that pain has been there already waiting for me, lol. Shit, it wasn't funny.
We (me and my bf) spent all the fucking day in this little cage in prosecutors office, waiting for the final verdict, freedom or jail, relief or agony.
Listening to this fucking pigs to bitch about "who this fucking judge we're waiting for deems to be to let us stuck here with this couple of moaning and drooling junkies for so long, as it's pretty obvious they're going to be locked up ANYWAY. It's a dinner time, for Christ sake, I didn't eat since morning". Holy shit, officer, it sucks, I do really I mean really feel for you, but I didn't have my fix since 3 days. I'm on DEAD LINE, could be said. What would YOU did if you were in my shoes???!!!
Every time we asked groaning "is the judge here finally?" they told us he's "on his way"-sounds almost as promising as to tell the same about dealer, you have to admit.
Things getting worse and worse in time, so they finally gave us back our own Clonazepam, 2x2mg to each, telling us solemnly to
"be sure not to get stoned (!) on it, unless it might put them in some serious trouble.
Sure, officer, I'm gonna do my best not to OD and not to flopp here as you on duty, but keep in mind I restrain from it just for you.
You are pretty cool as for a cop, so we don't want your ass getting burnt since we might need your help again, you never know."
The judge came finally and ultimately ruined our hopes for a dinner shot, as it was expected.
The pigs' "shift" were finally over so immediately after they have escorted us back to the arrest they wish us as little pain and troubles as possible, and promised to come with a visit for interrogation when we'll be "in a better shape".
They even told they are going to bring some chocolate and candies with them, since we should definitely "gain some weight", plus, someone told them junkies like candies as they are deprived on their dope.
"Oh yes", I said , that's really sweet from you, you'll be always welcome, but as for the interrogation, I don't have anything to add, I have admitted guilty what was probably the biggest mistake I did, what else could I say, even tons of chocolate doesn't change it.
I wished them bon appetite for their dinners, and they were tactfull enough not to "reciprocate" my wishes.
In the slammer/arrest I started to freak out again so the guards took me to the emergency.
I told the doctor I'm in full blown opiate w/d, 3rd day completely sick, I'm formally charged for drug related crimes and be in jail next morning at the latest, probably jailhouse hospital medical assisted detox, but RIGHT NOW I need something decent to help me to make it out this last night in the arrest.
I was like "look, I'll be clean and beyond of the range of any drugs whether I like it or not for at least 3 months and probably way longer ANYWAY, now I'm a fucking mess, so what's the difference?"
He was like "trick or treat, madame?", and I told him I'm tricksick, since the last 3 days were nothing else but just one huge fucking trick to me, I have enough so please do me a favor and give me a treat for a change.
I was given Tramadol 100 shot in my ass and it was some real treat, seriously. Cherry on the top, a life-safer, had fixed me passable for at least one day long.
I told to the guards now I'm ready for a life in jail and they looked at me as if I blew my mind completely.
My bf wasn't so lucky as I was, instead of Tramal, he ended up with Paracetamol or something akin to nothing this night, so when I saw him as we entered the jail next morning I felt really concerned about him.
He was barely able to talk and stand upright.
As the jailhouse doctor came to see and examinate him, she told she almost can't hear him breathing (wtf???) and hardly can feel his bloodtension.
She was like "good Lord, mister, what did you do or what THEY did to you there?."
Well, she rather should be asking for what they didn't do.
She seemed to be a little bit thrilled/shocked, so opened her Hoard and administered all you can dream about in such a miserable point of your life, provided you were able to fall asleep.
But nature needs balance apparently, so this old quack I have had a doubtful pleasure to talk to, had completely downplayed my condition-about 12 hours after I got the shot, Tramal plus Clonazepam were probably still active/working in my system and even if I was driving on fumes, it was able to keep me away from the worst.
Since I didn't fall on my face right in the front of him, the doc must have considered me being in relatively good shape.
I tried to push the tale about epilepsy but it didn't work.
He wanted me to tell him how namely these epileptic seizures do looks like, so I tried to concoct something, but I apparently didn't sound lucid and reliable enough, since he started laughing and ask me what's the book is I have read about it.
I joined him laughing as well, and told him back "Dostoyevski, I believe", no wonder all I was given were shitty psychiatric meds, Chlorprotixen or so and that's all about it.
The "recurrent" w/d hit me in the worst moment possible-in the middle on the night. No docs on duty, just some useless nurse, guards and my cellmates, even more scared and disturbed than annoyed, as they had no clue what to expect this zombie possibly to do. She looks as if she were living dead already, who knows what else might happen.
I'm apparently better as an actress than as a speaker/tale teller-I failed to instill the doctor I'm suffering from epilepsy, but I was given a shot of Diazepam every time girls sounding alarm and I slipped down from my bed pretending another seizure.
Eventually, they called some doctor from another ward to see and examinate me. It took infinity until he was finally able to "install" an IV-line port in my leg. As I asked him to give me just another shot of Tramal instead of I need to gather it orally (since I'm not able to keep it, anyway) he refused, telling his task is not to feed my habit but to cut me off.
Morning I got some real Breakfast Of Champions, what proved me the last night' confusion was worth of it. About the day 5th it started to break off slowly and the daily, usual jailhouse' drudgery started to prevail over the plague of w/d.
To be honest, it's not really any horror story-no matter how tough it was, it's more like some nostalgic flashback from old times when w/d was 5days long instead of lasting 5weeks+
...yeah, one has to be a real "champion" to derail ones OWN thread, as I just did...
However, with this thread I wanted to bring back the old, good tradition of "haunting"- telling "w/d horror stories".
This is something what I truly miss here.
So go ahead, tell me what was the most decent-sized dope habit you had to kick and how it felt like... I'm also curious about amounts... I mean, how large is the largest habit you ever had/heard about? As I said, I have no clue about "numbers"/weight..., we don't use this "currency" here... is it like 3,4,maybe 5g per day?
Hey, I'm kinky enough. Keep in mind you can always ban/ignore me.
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Thanks for sharing the story! I always enjoy reading about other's withdrawal stories and comparing it to my own.
Before I get on to my own stories, I'll address the whole heroin vs. "other" opioid withdrawal question. In my experience, opioid withdrawal is opioid withdrawal. It doesn't matter whether you've been using heroin, methadone, buprenorphine or fentanyl. The only difference is timeline. I've withdrawn from those four opioids I mentioned and each withdrawal was terrible in its own way. Bupe was the "easiest" but that's probably because I'd tapered down. Methadone w/d is more mentally difficult in that the physical symptoms aren't as severe, but it just lasts so fucking long and the lack of sleep REALLY gets to you. With fentanyl, I was only ever to make it roughly 24 hours and I'd have to use something. Same kind of thing with heroin, unless I was in a treatment or jail I'd never make it past 72 hours (usually 36 hours).
I think one thing that makes a big difference is where you withdraw. I've found it MUCH harder to kick at home vs. kicking in jail or treatment. There's just something about knowing that you can get well that makes the experience more difficult. When you're in treatment or jail, you know you're not going to get dope and somehow that makes it easier. At least, that's been my experience.
As far as withdrawal stories go...there's one that has stuck with me. I've withdrawn from opioids way too many times and each time fucking sucked. This one was by far the "worst."
I'd been on MMT for several years. At the time I was on 135 mg's of methadone a day. I was also abusing the hell out of benzo's. On an average day I'd go into the clinic early in the morning and after taking my dose I'd take ~14 mg's of xanax (or the equivalent of something else). I'd proceed to nod all day long and do it all again the next day.
One day I borrowed a friend's car to go to the clinic. For some reason the benzo's kicked in much sooner than normal and on the way home from the clinic I totaled his car. Luckily, I did not injure anyone else. I was let out of jail the next day on probation. A couple weeks later I broke the conditions of probation and went back in.
I hoped I would be let back out soon or at least referred to a treatment center. No such luck. I ended up being in jail for three weeks! The county I was in did have something in place for people on MMT. Unfortunately, it wasn't a whole lot. What they did was a three day taper. Ha, what a joke! At least it's better than nothing. I guess. On day two in jail I received something like 90 mg's of methadone. The next day 60 and the final day 30. By that day I was already starting to get quite sick.
The first night I was in was the only time I slept the entire three weeks. It was horrendous. It didn't help that I was also going through benzo w/d. That three weeks felt like an eternity. The jumpsuit thing that you have to wear was itchy as hell. The "beds" were so fucking uncomfortable. The temperature was frigid. The showers were hardly a comfort. I had to pay for fucking aspirin. God, it was just terrible.
When I finally got out, I didn't have a place to stay so I ended up having to sleep in a homeless shelter. I tried to get back into the methadone clinic but they weren't exactly excited to have me back and I ended up having to wait like 2 weeks. It took me a couple days out of jail before I was able to come up with money to buy some heroin. That next two weeks also really sucked. I was still going through methadone w/d and the only time I was able to feel okay was when I was able to shoot dope and that wasn't too often. I think I was able to average maybe a half gram every other day and of course that half gram was always used the same day even if I promised myself I'd save myself a "morning shot."
All in all, it was one of the worst several weeks of my life. I cannot even begin to count how many times the though of killing myself crossed my mind.
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Cool thread! As far as differences, I can only compare methadone vs black tar heroin. To me, it's a case of 6 of 1 vs 1/2 dozen of the other. H w/d is quick and brutal. Methadone isn't quite as bad, but lasts for- fucking- ever. So, take your pick.
Also, I've kicked numerous habits, from a half gram a day to an 8 ball a day. They have ALL sucked jaja I honestly can't tell a difference.
Also, +1 for the comment about it being easier to kick in rehab, detox, etc vs home. I've kicked twice in rehab and it was a piece of cake. At home, it's near impossible. Proving that it's mostly mental.
As far as worst withdrawal... For me, hands down, would be when I banged a few milligrams of suboxone and went into PWD. Never in my life have I been that sick, not even 1/10th as sick. I was at work, too. My boss took me to the ER... where they did nothing for me. Yeah, I'd rather chew thru my wrists than go thru that again :(
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In my experience with using oxymorphone or heroin when I've moved for work, I'd take heroin withdrawal everytime over oxymorphone. I'd say it's 30 or 40 percent easier for me to deal with. Heroine usually holds for 12 hours from shot to sick for me, oxymorphone is exactly half that time and the wd comes on quicker.
I remember the 1st time I was in a situation where I had switched to heroin full time while living away for 4 months. That first withdrawal, I was like, "really? OK yeah".
Of course this goes both ways, the rush from oxymorphone tops aNY heroin I've used from coast to coast.
This is all subjective and I'm not trying to "dicksize" my withdrawal pain levels to anyone elses. Being dependent then deprived is horrible for everybody and sucks pretty much the same, barring fent.
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I've only withdrawn from h but i have done that a lot & often without any real comfort meds. Worst time was at a treatment place where you weren't allowed any leeway due to being in withdrawls. it was a working farm & day 2 I was off to work shoveling cow shit in warm weather, I puked & heaved all day. It was 11 days until i got any sleep at all, I was really seeing shit that wasn't there just from no sleep. I felt really bad for the guy on the bunk below me. Between the RLS & not being able to lay still for 30 seconds I had the damn bunk bed vibrating like a mis-loaded washing machine. I'm sure many have been through worse, my habit was about a gram a day & it wasn't jail or anything.
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First off whoever said methadone wd is more mental than physical well the lucky for you.
I've shared my cold turkey methadone wd story many times.
Back in 2012 the week after super storm Sandy hit I hit rehab to get off a five year methadone habit. Big fucking mistake. They gave me subs for two days and the shit royally hit the fan. I didn't sleep for nine days, turned psychotic and began looking for ways to commit suicide.
The employees there kept messing with my head telling me I was never gonna leave or they were gonna dump me at the bus stop I'm the middle of the night (it was freezing cold out).
So I devised a plan where my husband was gonna pick me up and no one knew until the moment I packed my shit and was ready to roll outta there.
I was later informed that I was the only person there kicking methadone at that time. They had no idea what they were doing or how to treat me. Just so no one else has to suffer the place is called Mirmont and it's in Delware County near me.
The night I was freed I somehow left with $10 in a roll of quarters that of course no one told me my mom dropped off for me. As soon as I got home my husband got me a bag of dope. I did it and felt like heaven lol.
Then soon aftet that I joined Opiophile and learned what I should have known. Then kicked methadone with the help of dope. Got hooked on the dope and now I'm almost done with that.
People wonder why I have such an aversion to methadone well that's why. The cold turkey kick from it aside from the horror I described also fucked my heart up.
I still have flashbacks to that incident almost everyday and vividly remember roaming the halls of that place all night and rocking back and forth in the nurses station begging them to help me sleep and of course no one did shit.
Never again. The only person who's gonna get me off opiates is ME.
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I hate to admit it but I have NEVER experienced severe opiate withdrawal.
I made it only to the end of day 3 of Methadone withdrawal and got lucky; begged for some more from my street Methadone hook in the early morning in my pyjamas - driving was nuts.
Mind you, I got the idea and made sure that it never happened again. Got on a program after that.
shit was pouring from me and of course, I still landed in heavy traffic.
I did get caught out another time between clinics and remember being curled up on the foetal position, on the floor, laughing and weeping like a madman, in great discomfort in my new clinic; they dosed me as soon as possible.
fuck that !
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First off, thanks to you all for making this thread "enliven" and let it go on, so to say.
@bonedust ,
Your tale made me scared until to the point the cold shot was trembling me, as I read it, seriously.
Good Lord, such a ghastly, dreary, gloomy place this "rehab" must have been!
You seem to be able to grasp this plain horror in few brushstrokes-seemingly nothing special happens, everything is in the ambience, the lack of sleep and paranoia, and that's the best (worst) point.
I totally understand your trauma, since there's nothing worse to me than insomnia. I can totally relate with you, I remember my first detox/rehab ever, I was like 4 years long strung out on street' stuff (and occasionally something not so cut), been on pretty average doses, nothing to be proud of or boast about, lol, had been given some pretty decent medical assising and honestly didn't suffer somehow roughly from any w/d symptomes excepting sleeplessness. This fucking insomnia was a real bitch.
For some unknown reason I wasn't able to sleep a wink over 3 weeks or even longer. I can't really complain about the staff/employers, they did their best to help me, not to avail.
This single 3or4-weeks-long DAY felt like infinity. I was totally positive/convinced opiates impaired something in my brain so deeply and thoroughly that I'm gonna never be able to fall asleep again.
My parents drove me out to the rehab center, something akin to a farm at the countryside, half way across the world from home.
It was my 14th day off the dope, so I should theoretically start feeling decent (that bitch methadone weren't "implemented" so far) but the fact it was also my 12th day of no-sleep didn't help. The oldier junkies laughed and teased me every time I started to complain, "how long did you say, you were on this detox? 12days, 13? And how long did you do your dope, huh? Well, you can't expect to nod out here, give it a little bit more time".
I guess I would be able to kill or to trade whatever my skinny ass including for 30 minutes of a decent sleep-the currency of sleep gained the value and became an equivalent of the dope.
Instead of they sent me to milk the cows @MoeMentim , well, always better than shit.
@chipper ,
I hate to admit it but I have NEVER experienced severe opiate withdrawal.
I made it only to the end of day 3 of Methadone withdrawal and got lucky; begged for some more from my street Methadone hook in the early morning in my pyjamas - driving was nuts.
Haha, this is pretty perverse in meaning, who namely is clean here since... 5 months, I believe, huh? Looks you "made it way way longer than just to the end of day 3", you made until the end of the road, didn't you? Oh, I have forgotten, you still have some nasty pangs of sneezing ;)...
Fuck the roughly, glorious, thorny road to recovery if you were able to make it easier... Fuck this pyjamas on the early morning :)).
So nothing to be ashamed of, to be able to foresight/prevent/avoid and minimalize w/d proves someone is smart, not cowardly or "not tough enough".
We don't really need "to fund" ourselves any extra pain and add our "two cents" to the whole shit and misery we're already stuck in up to our ears, since the world around us (the law) permanently do its best to make our life unbearable, truly.
What we have to go through seems to be some horrible, heinous mistake and misconception, some pang of insanity that never should be happening.
I'm standing at the point opiate w/d in any form and intensity is ALWAYS a whole lot of trauma.
No matter how zealous the so called "doctors" tryin' to downplay it and deny or diminish the possibly negative implications related, this is such a kind of experience, that is going to stay etched in your mind forever, and probably never will be completely forgotten, even if you end up as recovered one.
Not even to mention severe CT w/d is probably comparable with the worst human experiences ever known, hands down.
Mainly such an outrageous long sleep deprivation itself, that is reported by users as some pretty common or even usual experience, kinda inevitable and just built in the game, is possibly able to change something in your system irreversible-I'm found myself never ever be the same after I went through it first time. No way back.
Do they really think the person could be deprived of sleep at all for WEEKS, just like this, and nothing wrong is gonna happen to them? Fucking joke.
My bf wasn't able to sleep for a month or so in jail, as a result of kinda "re-currently" (so to say) withdrawal, as they replaced/removed him from hospital to the "block" and cut him off of these whole lotta meds he was given, without even to bother themselves to taper his doses down.
As he asked the doc for ANYTHING because "he didn't sleep a wink since a week" that quack replied that "the sleep deprivation isn't life threatened".
On the other hand, remember some young counselor who has run the group therapy and was ready to swear that all is told about that legendary junkie' long lasting insomnia is either bullshit/lie, either our delusion, in the best case.
He was like "what you are talking about, medical researches prove no one human being isn't in position to make out alive, a week off is the top of limit, you, guys, must be taking a nap or falling in letargy occasionally, just don't remember it".
So the patients laughed "thus you'd better watch out as it looks there's plenty of living deads here".
As for me personally, never would be able to make it out, if I had a choice. No one of my kicks weren't selfimposed, there were always either law either my family and some blackmailing involved.
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^^^@Nikita, first and formost I wanna say you are one awesome chick. I really dig you and the way you word things.
And yes, that place was beyond bad. And I agree that the insomnia is the worst. That and the constant moving around and not being able to sit still for a second.
Now I know why sleep deprivation is used against people held hostage. It's used to break them. I used to think that they broke me. Since then I've realized they didn't but came close. I got outta there before I literally killed myself and am making it on my own and getting off this crap by myself.
Since I was born with a heart murmur maybe that has something to do with the permanent tachycardia (racing heart) that the ct wd did.
It still ranks as hands-down the worst I have felt physically and mentally. Fuck that just mental bullshit.
Whatever, I'm now tougher because of the whole damn terrible experience.
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Good point @nikita70 - I still didn't avoid the misery, I just spread it out over 2 years.
I'm still sneezing a few times a day and not sleeping well but that could be old age or something.
thanks for pointing it out - I can now handle cold weather better so things are looking up.
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@chipper
Good point @nikita70 - I still didn't avoid the misery, I just spread it out over 2 years.
I'm still sneezing a few times a day and not sleeping well but that could be old age or something.
thanks for pointing it out - I can now handle cold weather better so things are looking up.
Well, as they say "this laughs best who laughs last", right?
In my opinion, the final result is what really matters, not the way you get to there.
As for recovery terms, I think the ability to PERSIST/hang in sobriety is way way more precious and crucial than any spectacular, mind blowing "withdrawal show", what frequently ends up with even worse misery than that one, which has brought the person to kick.
Thats what I'm finding as some useless pain, that gets on/ruins your body and mind way way worse than any dope does.
This devious "monkey" needs to be fought with its own weapon-cunning and crafty.
I figure out that having your taper spread for so long, the difference might be barely noticeable to you in time, until you had finally to deal with the last one, most crucial "crossover"-switching from SOMETHING to NOTHING at all.
Everything you have been doing before, was a question rather of "quantity" than "quality", as the last one interval involved some totally crossover in the way of how your system is gonna be working, if you dig me.
So just out of curiousity, how did it feel, I mean this very final part of kick, from 1mg (or less) to absolute ZERO? Honestly, what I wanted to know is whether you have been able to "cheat"/"escape" this inevitable "Algebra Of Need" (so to say) or not, how do you think?
@bonedust ,
thanks for your kindest words.
Glad you mentioned about sleep deprivation in context of using it as a method of "breaking people". This is pretty weird and nefarious how the rehab staff used to take advantage of an obvious symptom of person's illness/disease as a way to mess into one's head, really.
People don't even realize how vulnerable they are getting for ANY crap/nonsense they are told, after they have been exposed for such a "sleep-off treatment".
They're literally able to believe anything, I mean anything as they arrive the rehab center. Easy target to deal with.
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How did it feel ?
it's always anti-climax yet I felt empowered and happy to put it behind me.
there was also a sense of loss.
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lol, I've never made it past 4 days. Seriously that's the longest I've gone without for the last 15 yrs. Can't do it, hope I'll never be FORCED to.
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Oh man,
My worst withdrawal experience was my first time going through withdrawals. My bf and I had been using for about 2 years straight. We both held decent jobs (him working construction & myself delivering + tips). So, minimal amount for the day was around a g, more like a teener each. So, after a couple years of being addicts, we've decided to move to CA (my family lives there), and kick. However things don't always go as planned when you're a drug addict.
So, the trip is about 1100 miles, and we had no problem until we were halfway home. We pulled off the freeway to switch drivers, and of course my bf is like, "hey lets do a shot" i didnt really have a good feeling about it, but knew we had at least another 7 hours til we were home, so finally i relented.
Well, what we didnt know what that the gas station we pulled into was literally across the street from the local cop shop. Like, they could literally stand outside their back door/parking lot, and see the parking lot at the gas station. Well, needless to say, they approached our car, however I totaly saw one of the cops as he was approaching the car, so we were both able to stash our loaded rigs.
After a TOTALLY ILLEGAL "search and seizure" (fuckin cop literally took a set of keys that was in the car, without permission of course, and opened up a LOCKED fire-safe lock box which of course, was where all the drugs were).
The only satisfaction i got after watching them tear apart my car and all its contents for 4 hours was when they found an old ammo box we had in the trunk. We bought it at an estate sale, so it was still army green, and heavy as fuck. so the cop sees this huge metal fuckin lockbox with a lock on it and he went ballistic. (it was literally the perfect size to fit a kilo tho) hilarious cuz im in the backseat of the cop car just watching this go down, and this guy is practically jizzing/crying/jumping up and down he's so fucking excited. I mean, this guy must've been like "fuck yea, this is my promotion right here" and he literally called every single cop in the fucking po-dunk town to come watch. Just to crack that box open, and there was literally a handkerchief and a little water bottle from the needle exchange. It was so hilarious to watch him just deflate after that, hahah. Especially cause he called in the fucking cavalry and all we had was like, a .2 of heroin.
No joke too, this is an exact quote from the fuck " I seen wheelbarrows full of meth around here, but I never seen no heroin.. what's this worth? like 2-300?" To which I tearfully replied, "uh like 10 bucks, if you're getting ripped off."
So, we get arrested, car impounded, and our poor dog ended up in the police kennel for the weekend. :(
We ended up only spending about 4-5 hours in jail, so luckily the withdrawals weren't affecting me yet. As soon as i was released, I called a cab to come pick us up and take us to a hotel. Luckily, this cab driver was the coolest guy ever. He knew we were hurting, and he seemed genuinely sorry that he couldn't help us score anything. BUT he practically saved our lives cuz all he had was like a dub of weed, and he gave it to us, i think he knew how fucked we were. I mean, this guy let us chill in his cab for almost an hour with the meter off, waiting for a Western Union to come in. Luckily the money came in, and i tipped him like 50$ when he dropped us off. this guy was such a lifesaver, my mom sent him xmas cards for a couple years after that, haha :))
Of course this happened on a Friday, so we cant get our car out of impound until monday. The following days were spent in a motel 6 in Redding, CA.
So, this is my first time ever experiencing withdrawal (at least for longer than a couple hours) and we spent the weekend shittin and puking up something vile. I mean, soo terrible we called 911 from the hotel room not knowing that it sends an alert to the front office. I don't remember much of the actual details except laying on the shower floor crying, and i swear the same episode of Family Guy played THE ENTIRE WEEKEND lol.
Eventually monday came, and we called a cab, went to get the release for our car from the cops, and of course, when we go to pick it up, it's TRASHED. I mean, it had all our belongings that we were moving with.. So of course, now Im on day 3 of withdrawals, and there's not even room for a passenger in the ccar, let alone how's the dog gonna fit? BUT then i remember,... the shots we were getting ready to do when we got busted...
So I reach my hand along the drivers seat, between the console and the chair, and the best thing i could've ever felt at that point. My (still uncapped lol) shot from 3 days ago. And luckily my bf's shot is still under his seat as well, ha!
needles we shove as much as we can in the backseat/trunk, and rip outta there as fast as we can.
Honestly tho, that shot only helped for maybe like three hours(which was probably more placebo than anything after 3 days in the car cooked up)
And I still had 7ish hours of driving to do. I swear, that was one of the hardest things ive ever had to do, drive across the state practically sooo sick and exhausted cuz of course I've gotten no sleep.
And after this weekend of hell, we finally get into town, and my buddy (who is our only connect + is just a middleman) is literally like "ehh you guys are on day three, why don't you just quit now?" and tried to talk us out of copping for almost two hours. Which, in hindsight, is a good friend, but I fuckin' hated him that day, lemme tell ya.
sorry for the novel, and it being all scattered, it's the first time I've thought about that incident in years; for good reason, haha.
OH & the weirdest thing, idk if it was the cops or the tow truck guys, but when i got my car out, there was like, three pairs of my dirty underwear in the middle console, and a fuckin meth pipe in the passenger side door!! and it straight had like, a half a bowl in there. Which, we know it wasn't ours cause we didn't own a pipe at that point.. AND we only got charged with possession of heroin, poss. of paraphernalia, poss. of a deadly weapon (totally had a collapsible baton & bf had a switchblade), but magically we had 2 boxes of syringes go missing ( we were bring back 8), our two hits of acid, and shrooms all without charges. and they totally kept the scale, but gave us back a bag clearly labeled 2-cb with the drugs still in it hah.
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worst was off an every day 2year smoking + 2 year iv habit, last year of which was lots of coke too. i got into a free year long working farm rehab. woke up 12 hrs after last h, got on the plane from vegas to fort collins at 9am. stayed at folks that night & slept hard like i always do the first night. then of course no sleep for centuries. everyone has their pet symptom that is the most bothersome. mine is no sleep forever which makes all the other symptoms which i also get in spades so much worse. this time was 7 days before i got 5 minutes sleep. a month before i could start counting sleep in hours, like two or three.
first day at farm i got to shovel cow shit in 90 degree heat. i'm still fucking feezing but 90 degrees makes the cow shit horrific. i heaved all day. something like two weeks in i got these shooting knife stabbing pains in my abdomen that signalled an oncoming demonic bowel event.
i could go on and on about the experience but i'm on a shit phone, laptop fucked. too bad, i feel like typing. by the way, asdide from a handful of chips in the first two years after leaving the farm i've been opi & other evil drug free for 4 1/2 years.
I reccomend dabs and if necessary beers. and the occasional psychedelic.
cheers, kids.
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I have to say this is the best fucking thread on here.
I swear being in a real multiyear opiate habit and having to kick it, is probably the worst feeling I can ever think of.
Like chipper in the last 7 years I have been a daily addict with 5 using iv multiple times a day.
Luckily I have only ever gone like a day or 2.
1 thing I can relate to is iving sub before the h is out of your system.
That precipitated withdrawal is what they should do to child molesters and terrorist. That was the worst day of my life. Until my parents die I really do not think there is anything worse.
Luckily, unfortunately it is still that luck. I am on methadone and my clinic does provide for me if I pay 16 a day. Seriously this is so fucked up man. Like yea I don't mind paying for my medicine but 16 a day for some cheap ass methadone prolly made for 1 cent a mg at the fucking most.
On top of that going to bumfuck Oklahoma this month for work and there is no clinic within 2 hrs. Well I'm fucked my clinic helps me only when I come in daily.
Luckily there are still some nice people left alive.
But yea some great reads in this thread from all.
Moe has some amazing shit written and bonedust and the op write so well.
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Luckily there are still some nice people left alive.
;)
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I would never guess this thread is still alive&kicking (obviously ;)).
I'd bet it really goes to haunt >:D as touched, since it's so old, thus I kept myself away from it.
However, the bad news is I'm back and gonna haunt again.
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http://www.xojane.com/it-happened-to-me/it-happened-to-me-i-got-off-heroin-with-suboxone (http://www.xojane.com/it-happened-to-me/it-happened-to-me-i-got-off-heroin-with-suboxone)
For some reason, this is really my kind of w/d story. Not in the meaning I were even close, whenever, to have a 5g big heroin habit developed, just the manner the story is concocted/written, is my preferable one as for opiate' horror tales.
Witty and lucid, a little bit exalted and melodramatical, involving hardcore shit, avoiding extremities, yet not getting into disgusting details.
I like the way she makes a really perfect point tryin' to convey what heroin/opiate w/d feels like and putting all the spectacular, hackneyed cliches aside, to replace them with just a single, accurate yet so startling/awestruck comparison-getting sunk, being deprived of oxygen and feeling how it takes infinity to get to the surface to get some air.
This way she says w/d could be defined by what is isn't or what is lacking or missing rather than what it is. Deprivation.
Love this tale, especially '6 feet 3 inches of the toughest guy ever met, curling up on the bottom in desolating agony', even if 5g is outrageous overkilled and 'plan B' sounds fucking pompous, melodramatical and unrealistic.
However, the fucking distortion/lie about methadone vs bupe due to oh-so-obvious merchandise reasons just makes me sick and disgusted.
As if bupe weren't addictive opioid as well, but some vitamine.
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hands down the worst for me was spending 2 months kicking subs in solitary confinement. That was years ago and I still feel off/traumatized by the experience. Fuck that, solitary as it is is inhumane and frankly torture in my opinion..Terrible. Just fucking terrible.
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Joseph
If you wana share that tale I'm sure some would like to read it.
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Joseph
If you wana share that tale I'm sure some would like to read it.
@onewayonly , I promise to be a careful reader. @Joseph Hopeless , don't let us wait, we have chips and popcorn ;)
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Well, here goes...prepare for a novel incoming....
I knew I was gonna be in jail/prison for 6 months, so when I went to court to be sentenced I suitcased a good bit of subs....I ran out early while there, but was still able to get them there..You can probably guess how..anyways, I get woken up one morning and a C.O demands I open my locker...Takes all my stuff and finds 'em, so I get taken to solitary. Mind you, this was my first time in prison so I had no idea what the fuck was gonna happen, let alone i'd end up there for 2 months. My stupid ass then tries to get more in there and get caught WHILE in solitary and get a "street charge" for it. I didn't sleep for the first 9 days, kept trying to see a doctor while there and act nuts(I was losing it kinda bad anyways)because I figured I could maybe get some trazadone or something and MAYBE get some sleep. I end up telling a co I'm losing my shit and wish I could walk in front of a bus or something to that effect..He took that very seriously and threw my happy ass in the suicide watch cell for 24 hours...Terrible..Then I see the MOST condescending, prickish doctor through the door and he says basically "naw you're on your own, I'm not doing shit for you" and I get sent back to my cell...And the rest of the days there I just went more and more nuts and even after the 2 months were up and I was back at the original prison I still didn't really feel ok. I was sleeping pretty well by that point, but ever since then, even now, I still feel...off...
And yeah, that's about it. The only good that came out of it was I now feel like I can deal with anything after that, but I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy. And yeah, that's the story of my worst w/d experience I've ever had.
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Well, here goes...prepare for a novel incoming....
I knew I was gonna be in jail/prison for 6 months, so when I went to court to be sentenced I suitcased a good bit of subs....I ran out early while there, but was still able to get them there..You can probably guess how..anyways, I get woken up one morning and a C.O demands I open my locker...Takes all my stuff and finds 'em, so I get taken to solitary. Mind you, this was my first time in prison so I had no idea what the fuck was gonna happen, let alone i'd end up there for 2 months. My stupid ass then tries to get more in there and get caught WHILE in solitary and get a "street charge" for it. I didn't sleep for the first 9 days, kept trying to see a doctor while there and act nuts(I was losing it kinda bad anyways)because I figured I could maybe get some trazadone or something and MAYBE get some sleep. I end up telling a co I'm losing my shit and wish I could walk in front of a bus or something to that effect..He took that very seriously and threw my happy ass in the suicide watch cell for 24 hours...Terrible..Then I see the MOST condescending, prickish doctor through the door and he says basically "naw you're on your own, I'm not doing shit for you" and I get sent back to my cell...And the rest of the days there I just went more and more nuts and even after the 2 months were up and I was back at the original prison I still didn't really feel ok. I was sleeping pretty well by that point, but ever since then, even now, I still feel...off...
And yeah, that's about it. The only good that came out of it was I now feel like I can deal with anything after that, but I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy. And yeah, that's the story of my worst w/d experience I've ever had.
Dude that is a great story.
On a similar note. Maybe 9 yrs ago right before I got really addicted to oc. I was on sub's trying to stay off oxy. Well I got a DUI. So I had to do some time in jail. I did not have a crazy habit but was using daily for 8 months I say. I took 16mg of sub and went into jail for 10 fays. Maybe the sub saved me or that was my one free pass cause I did not get WD at all. After hearing your story WD in jail is worse than hell. I get how the thought of scoring is less in jail than on the streets but look at your tale. You were still using in jail. When we people realize rehab and maintenance is the solution not jail.
Dude that doctor is one of the special cock suckers I'd like to find in a dark ally bleeding or on fire. Id throe gas on the fucker. And to think he took an oath saying he would do good for patients while he almost made you command t suicide. We can only pray his child od's so he can feel the pain.
I'm not saying being an addict is some sad story. I work everyday and pay all my taxes. Been to the hospital 1 to!e in 3 yrs. Never been on a govt program. Not saying any of that is wrong. But damn just cause I like opis I'm a second class citizen. Its just frustrating.
Believe me I don't bitch like this all the time. But his story is the same one I year every time. Its getting old.
It's sad if I wasn't addicted to my clinic I would get a one way ticket to Vietnam and never return. Live a life I would love.
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@onewayonly hey, thanks I appreciate it. It was almost cathartic for me to write it down/talk about it. I'd guess you probably had enough sub in your system to not w/d, even with 10 days..I was in there 2 months from December 20-Feb. 20 and I didn't start hurting until around dec 27th..But then again, sometimes you do get that proverbial "free lunch", yeah? But yeah that doctor man...His tone of voice, the way he talked, all he did was mock and belittle me and say how screwed I was, I really want him to die.
And yup, the stigma is all too real. I'm basically a day laborer, I bust my ass from 830-430 mon-Friday and usually get some hours on the weekend too...And if the bossman ever found out just the FACT I do it, i'd be instantly canned; meanwhile, a guy who works with me drinks around 30-40 beers a fucking day doesn't get anything worse than "yeah man, you should try and cut back sometime"..He's a sweet guy, though, very kind caring dude..Whew, sorry bit of a chatty motherfucker recently, got carried away there.
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I had several Tales of Pity and Woe, one in particular I shared on Ophile, I'll offer it up here, as this one goes against the general consensus that kicking away from home is easier than going it locally.
I had to travel for 5 days to Florida on business training and was pretty naive to the ins-and-outs of traveling with junk. At the time, I'd been hitting the poppy pods quite heavy and anyone who has been down this path during they heyday of fire pods can tell you that c/t from them is utterly indescribable.
I was afraid to travel with pods at the time, so I decided to just dose up heavy right before I got on the plane on Monday morning, thinking that a big dose would carry me through Tuesday and I would just gut out the remainder of the trip until I got home Thursday evening. And, at the time, I had no pills, as this was before my forays into the online pharmacy world. So, I went there totally dry. Bad idea, really bad. Mistake Numero Uno.
I brewed up a thermos full of pod tea and drove myself to the airport, slogging down the muddy brew as I wove my way through traffic. Got the airport, got on the plane and noticed I was not feeling the usual relief that comes with a morning dose. I had brewed up from a different strain of pods that day and, as luck would have it, they were extremely weak pods. Mistake Numeros Dos - do not ever blindly substitute one strain for another when you don't know the quality - especially when you really need to be well.
I was so-so most of the day Monday but my sleep that first night was fitful (restless legs, sweats, and drug dreams) and I awoke Tuesday morning in full blown C/T, as I had effectively not had a normal dose since Sunday and that crap tea the day before had done shit for me. And now, I had to face 3 days of meetings and social events every evening, and a plane ride home, in really bad shape. C/T at home alone is bad enough, but try doing that when you have to be around a crowd of people and remain "up" from morning to late at night. The agony was unbelievable, my entire body hurt from head to toe, I had the chills but couldn't stop sweating, and my anxiety level was off the charts. I was in and out of the bathroom all day and my brain was consumed with the need to get SOMETHING, anything, to make it stop. I tried to distract myself - I'd walk outside to make the chills stop, and the humidity would overwhelm me. And the smells - jesus, mother, mary, every smell was magnified 1000X (to this day, I cannot stand the smell of hotels because of this one experience). I had to sit through meetings all day and all I could do was count down the minutes until it was over. I couldn't even read to distract myself, because I couldn't make my goddam eyes focus (I think the pupils dilate during C/T and cause vision problems).
The only brief respite came in the evenings. We had an open bar after dinner and I would tank up on G&T's and that seemed to make the pain recede a tiny bit. Problem was, the hangovers that followed were far worse than normal.
There was no sleep Tuesday or Wed, I would lay down, sweat, get up, towel off, lay down again, and repeat this cycle endlessly until morning. My legs were jitterbugging the entire time, so even if I had been able to relax, there's no way I could sleep.
On Thursday afternoon, my spirits picked up a bit, as things wound down and I expected to be home in a matter of hours, relief would be waiting. But, no. I got to the airport, went to the Departures screen, looked up my flight, and saw that one word that nearly made my head explode - DELAYED. A hurricane warning was in full effect and the weather was deteriorating by the minute. I thought I was going to go mad. Everyone was frantically calling around, trying to book alternative flights. Not me, I didn't have the mental cogency or physical energy to do this. Instead, I went to the bar and just pounded down drinks, hoping to blot out the panic. Mistake Numero Tres - don't fly during hurricane season. Just. Fucking. Don't.
This waiting went on for hours. Airports are boringly annoying even when you feel well. When you're sick, they are intolerable hell holes. I watched people with flights scheduled after mine come and go while I just sat there, mopping sweat from my forehead and fantasizing about murdering some motherless fuck airline executive. I just kept staring at that status screen and praying for some sign that our plane would arrive. It wasn't until nearly midnight that the plane rolled in, and we started boarding. I ended up sandwiched in a middle seat, covered in a blanket and pouring sweat the whole way home. I got some strange looks from the other passengers.
When we finally landed and deplaned, I probably set a speed record for the time it took to get my luggage and get the hell out of the airport. I drove home in a frenzy, cursing the traffic, and nearly swerving off the road in my pathetic need to get home and straighten out. I finally got home in the early morning hours of Friday. I didn't even bother with my luggage, I just raced straight for the pods and the coffee grinder. The relief from that dose was unforgettable. It started with those blessed abdominal cramps, the opiates first saturating my gut receptors (for me, always the sign of a nice high), followed by waves of physical and mental relief as the alkaloids moved north and bathed my starved brain receptors. This was one of the best highs I ever felt, which convinced me that relief highs trump any normal high, even at modest doses.
I learned a lot of lessons that week. NEVER try to "gut out" a trip, always bring something, and bring more than you may think you need, as you you never know how long you will be away. And, if you are using something new, test it before you take it anywhere. I also try to think through a "Plan B" when I travel, just in case something weird happens - like, my drugs get stolen or lost. For example, I like to research my destination, to see if there are places near there where seeds can be obtained. And, if I'm going to be somewhere more than a week, I think through which domestic sources might be available and whether or not I could discreetly take delivery of a shipment, if need be. It is especially important to be well when you are traveling to see friends or family. Being sick the whole time would give the game away. Sorry, got a bit OT here.
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Feeedom or bust that sounds like utter hell! My worst was working at Walgreens on xmas day 2011 in full blown opana wd. Those who have been there know there is something especially nasty and physically painful about opana wd. Not to say I like it but I would rather detox from d's than opana any day.
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my worst WD episode came from going from taking 120-160 mgs of methadone a day or wearing + eating 75 and/or 100 mcg fent patches everyday to taking suboxone. I took 320 mgs of 'done on a Saturday. Took some oxy 80's on Sunday hoping to let the 'done get out of my system but I ended up taking ALL my 80's. I knew I should have taken something short acting for a week or longer before starting sub but I didn't have the money and didn't have a hookup for dope at the time.
Monday comes and I said fuck it, I gotta take something and put half a strip under my tongue. I was pretty much instantly sick as fuck and took more sub thinking that would help but it just made it worse. It was like the 'done and bupe were having a fight to the death inside my body at the opiate receptors and I was the only loser.
I took SOOO many benzos all day and smoked good bud blunts every hour or so. The MJ and good music were the only things that made me feel remotely better. However, I was still in agony crying about everything. I was an emotional mess like I've never been during WD before. I was also in the worst pain of my life. It felt like shin splints but hurt 1000x worse. I'm over 6 foot tall so I never take baths but I would get in a warm bath and just rub my legs over and over.
Even with all the benzos and good bud, I didn't sleep for at least a week. I took off work for a few days but it wasn't long enough. I was literally walking like an 80 yr old man without his cane at work and I had to lie to everybody and told them I went too hard on leg day at the gym. I went through probably 5 grams of good bud a day but didn't feel better at all until about day 7 of being on sub.
I swore I'd never take 'done again after quitting it that time but I'm back at 120mg's a day now at the clinic. I even got 120 'done 10's a month after quitting and wasn't tempted AT ALL to take any of them because I was feeling fine on sub once all the 'done got out of my system after about 2-3 weeks.
I stayed clean on sub (which is clean IMO even though it is physically addictive. It doesn't give u a buzz at all so I consider that clean and sober) for about 10-12 months until I moved and found a hookup for H. I wasted SO MUCH $$ on H 'cause I didn't want to go back to the 'done clinic but eventually had to bite the bullet and get back on 'done.
^^That's my worst WD experience to date but I might have a worse story in a month or so. I'm charged with domestic violence (never hit a female in my life) and DUI, and the prosecutor seems determined to send me to jail and I'm having a hard time coming up with the money to get a lawyer so I might have to WD from 120 mg's of 'done and 3 mgs of clonazepam a day in jail in about 3 weeks. The jail already told me they don't give any narcotics so maybe I can convince them that the kpin is for epilepsy instead of anxiety. If I have to go C/T from both in jail, I'm scared they might find me hanging one morning because I seriously doubt I'm strong enough to go thru that.....especially considering I'd lose my job and it would ruin my family of 4's only source of income and insurance, etc...
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FreedomOrBust, i felt every bit of your pain and release. Great read, thanks buddy.
i'm a total pussy when it comes to opiate w/d's. TOTAL FUCKING PUSSY ! -- upon feeling the initial stages of my first Heroin withdrawal, i immediately changed my DOC to Methadone "to buy me more time" and then I never let myself get past day 2 1/2 of a Methadone CT. I saw what was in the post and it looked and felt like something that i must avoid at all costs.
so i ended up screwing my tolerance, trading low-euphoria in for less time in exposure/misery. probably a dumb move, i dunno.
I did once, however, manage to dislodge a large houseboat that we all rented that someone ran aground.
nobody had the strength (or inclination ?) but *I* knew that if it didn't move that damn thing then i wouldn't get home to the late-nite pharmacy and i'd have a sweaty, goosey, fidgety, LONG night ahead of me. I pushed and pushed and got it off. I used to fog up car windows - all the time - when entering withdrawals, how embarrassing !
it's always fascinated me just how resourceful one can become when one needs to get right ASAP.
I've even walked down streets YELLING for H on one occasion ... found some too but only when i stopped yelling (naturally, duh !) and bumped a dude another street down. Yep, i have been THAT guy :-[
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...it's always fascinated me just how resourceful one can become when one needs to get right ASAP...
That's always been a constant source of amazement to me, as well - I've often wondered that if we could harness that drive and possibly autism hyper-focus at the same time, we'd probably have colonies on Mars by now...
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...it's always fascinated me just how resourceful one can become when one needs to get right ASAP...
That's always been a constant source of amazement to me, as well - I've often wondered that if we could harness that drive and possibly autism hyper-focus at the same time, we'd probably have colonies on Mars by now...
Opiate users are, for the most part, simply highly motivated intelligent and sensitive individuals who are either running away from pain (the damaged) or running towards (more) pleasure (the hedonist).
OTOH, Meth users tend to be lazy, selfish, low on ethics, greedy and deceitful. I keep away from them despite being one. Too many head fucks.
There is something about opiates that builds character and through withdrawal, strength.
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Good story BigNasty
I really think opiate users for long periods of time come to realize and deal with wd and heartache on a weekly basis at least for most. I would say 50% of opiate users wake up with no medicine each morning. That is just a guess.
But we know how bad the wd is. It is not like coke ex or even meth. It is downright scary. In opiate wd except for the lucky ones you will not sleep for at least 10 days. Now I a have not been 10 days off dope or methadone I believe too many friends.
Just read this thread. I have a high doubt Joseph or BigNasty is lying on how bad it was.
Its downrigtht fucked up,
Just hope I can fend for myself or have enough money for folks to help if need be,
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@onewayonly hey, thanks I appreciate it. It was almost cathartic for me to write it down/talk about it. I'd guess you probably had enough sub in your system to not w/d, even with 10 days..I was in there 2 months from December 20-Feb. 20 and I didn't start hurting until around dec 27th..But then again, sometimes you do get that proverbial "free lunch", yeah? But yeah that doctor man...His tone of voice, the way he talked, all he did was mock and belittle me and say how screwed I was, I really want him to die.
And yup, the stigma is all too real. I'm basically a day laborer, I bust my ass from 830-430 mon-Friday and usually get some hours on the weekend too...And if the bossman ever found out just the FACT I do it, i'd be instantly canned; meanwhile, a guy who works with me drinks around 30-40 beers a fucking day doesn't get anything worse than "yeah man, you should try and cut back sometime"..He's a sweet guy, though, very kind caring dude..Whew, sorry bit of a chatty motherfucker recently, got carried away there.
I hear you. I am glad this board is coming back with new and old members. Opiates are becoming an epidemic so maybe we can change some people lives in the year to come. This is 1 place racism can not be tolerated which makes it great, unfortunately skin heads in VA will try to cause shit while our orange haired fucker says nothing. O yeah Banon is gone the NAZI WE KNEW HE WAS
I hope everyone can find their DOC or a program we deserve. We are citizens,
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I have ran across it while my ongoing chasing the extremes.
One of my aquitances told me they (the cops or guards in arrest I guess) did it to him as he got caught in flagranti concocting home made dope and incarcerated, but probably te point is he must have pissed them totally, since he messed with them trying to escape kinda unusual way-he told me, being aware of how paranoid cops are as for needles, HIV, HCV etc., he just grabbed the box full of dirty rigs and just "flung" it right under their feet, kinda "paving" the room between with syringes and needles, and obviously making them completely dumbstruck and aghast, well, kinda... stoned/paralysed.
As they stopped to freak out and hunted him down finally, needless to say, he couldn't really expect a treat. Indeed, they didn't show much compassion as they dealt with this guy.
First off, they (the cops) have beaten the shit out of his ass but good (I do really relish this figuratively, pithy tone of the english slang), then they put him into solitary and let him go CT, what has been in price included, anyway, then some tenderness again, and so alternatively and repetitively.
They also promised him solemnly to "concoct" a civil suit against him (or how it calls) beside he has been formally charged for concocting dope.
Guys must have been really upset and thrilled of this special and rare welcome, as they emerged.
He reported it to continue about 2 days long and of course felt like infinity, but this extra tenderness paradoxically did help him to distort/change the perception of how the time flies.
It took them two days to deal with paperwork plus those "physical exercises", then he was told they realized they did really overkill with this hiding/bludgeoning/thrash or how it calls,
so now they are bothered this exceptional maltreat might get somehow disclosed and they end up burnt as a result, so they want him to get along.
Maybe one decent shot might be able to nullify all that shit and help him to forget what happened to him, excepting of course all those formal charges, that are beyond of any question???
The dude has been like WTF? but gladly agreed, since he was really I mean really sick and tired and fucked up so his so called "free choice" cathegory must have been seriously impaired. Who could blame him?
So well, they bringing all toys into his solitary, a barrel loaded with first hand home made stuff, like 5ml, just enough to get off the egde, deep yellow tone, the guy is bursting at the seams to get there, his eyes flares like inspired,
"Show us your best mainline you use never but for special occasion, your secret entrance "pure white/s only" I'd say, if this beauty weren't one of these mindblowing hot mixed breed' bitches. Show us, you know, where and how you usually register since as established and respected citizens we're going not to hack your dirty veins and playing this junkies hit or miss' game, ok?"
The guy is completely confused and dumbstruck, he barely is able to believe it happens, but since he has splendid veins and High-Speed connection he's rolling up the sleeve, all in rush and frenzied, before they're going to change their mind.
The needle comes in smoothly, just a sigh, the Wild Rose is blooming on the bottom like some exotic bonzai flower.
The cop lays his edgy, boorish finger on the plunger as the guy focuses his look on the interface staring and casting a spell as if he hoped to put that damned plunger in motion telepatically, by some remote controlling or so.
Suddenly, the cop's hand jerks in a semblance of some uncontrolled spasm/seizure and the needle drops out from the vein.
"I'm sorry dude, you can see how fucking unstable my hand is, haha. By the way-did you seriously expect us let you to take off?
___
I did never find out how is the proportion between truth and fiction in this tale. Probably it's "cut", but good, like some last restort' shit, the result of cold scoring.
I'm ready to believe the initially episode with needles might be true but the rest sounds like some painful kitschy martyrs shit.
However, this tale is still alive and pretty vivid as a "junkie' urban legend".
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Hehe @nikita70 good read :)) I agree it sounded plausible up to the part where the C:-) gave him a shot lol
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https://www.reddit.com/r/opiates/comments/3n1pc0/lets_talk_about_the_worst_withdrawals_youve_ever/
Hey guys... looks we have some some seriously competition here^^^
I have mixed feelings, I have to admit...
I do really dig this kNOwagora' unlimited amplifying/dwelling with projectile vomiting on and on ad nauseam (nomen omen >:D), as a leitmotiv, still even being able to only grasp/comprehend it like fifty-fifty due to the slang, I do wonder whether is this person kinda "dicksize"/brag/overkill or not.
This shit could compare easily with Mel Gibson's, maybe excepting the most disgusting symptoms. >:D
Honestly, I have no clue if someone is able to develope such an outrageous large sized habit to throw like 28L of fluids or so within 36hours of NON CT kick.
Anyway,
Holy fuck. My withdrawals are shit in comparison obviously..
this comment beats me with its almost tangible note of grieve and jealousy...
Enjoy.
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From my understanding is that opana kicks are the worst "generally speaking" I know everything varies person to persons though
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I brewed up a thermos full of pod tea and drove myself to the airport, slogging down the muddy brew as I wove my way through traffic. Got the airport, got on the plane and noticed I was not feeling the usual relief that comes with a morning dose. I had brewed up from a different strain of pods that day and, as luck would have it, they were extremely weak pods.
I was so-so most of the day Monday but my sleep that first night was fitful (restless legs, sweats, and drug dreams) and I awoke Tuesday morning in full blown C/T, as I had effectively not had a normal dose since Sunday and that crap tea the day before had done shit for me. And now, I had to face 3 days of meetings and social events every evening, and a plane ride home, in really bad shape. C/T at home alone is bad enough, but try doing that when you have to be around a crowd of people and remain "up" from morning to late at night. The agony was unbelievable, my entire body hurt from head to toe, I had the chills but couldn't stop sweating, and my anxiety level was off the charts. I was in and out of the bathroom all day and my brain was consumed with the need to get SOMETHING, anything, to make it stop. I tried to distract myself - I'd walk outside to make the chills stop, and the humidity would overwhelm me. And the smells - jesus, mother, mary, every smell was magnified 1000X (to this day, I cannot stand the smell of hotels because of this one experience). I had to sit through meetings all day and all I could do was count down the minutes until it was over. I couldn't even read to distract myself, because I couldn't make my goddam eyes focus (I think the pupils dilate during C/T and cause vision problems).
The only brief respite came in the evenings. We had an open bar after dinner and I would tank up on G&T's and that seemed to make the pain recede a tiny bit. Problem was, the hangovers that followed were far worse than normal.
On Thursday afternoon, my spirits picked up a bit, as things wound down and I expected to be home in a matter of hours, relief would be waiting. But, no. I got to the airport, went to the Departures screen, looked up my flight, and saw that one word that nearly made my head explode - DELAYED. A hurricane warning was in full effect and the weather was deteriorating by the minute. I thought I was going to go mad. Everyone was frantically calling around, trying to book alternative flights. Not me, I didn't have the mental cogency or physical energy to do this. Instead, I went to the bar and just pounded down drinks, hoping to blot out the panic.
This waiting went on for hours. Airports are boringly annoying even when you feel well. When you're sick, they are intolerable hell holes. I watched people with flights scheduled after mine come and go while I just sat there, mopping sweat from my forehead and fantasizing about murdering some motherless fuck airline executive. I just kept staring at that status screen and praying for some sign that our plane would arrive. It wasn't until nearly midnight that the plane rolled in, and we started boarding. I ended up sandwiched in a middle seat, covered in a blanket and pouring sweat the whole way home. I got some strange looks from the other passengers.
I didn't even bother with my luggage, I just raced straight for the pods and the coffee grinder. The relief from that dose was unforgettable. It started with those blessed abdominal cramps, the opiates first saturating my gut receptors (for me, always the sign of a nice high), followed by waves of physical and mental relief as the alkaloids moved north and bathed my starved brain receptors. This was one of the best highs I ever felt, which convinced me that relief highs trump any normal high, even at modest doses.
Man, it was something else, I mean really else..., @FreedomOrBust
I had some serious dilemma what parts of this tale should be saved/quoted since there're not any weak points in it. There's a lot of SORE/painful ones, instead.
Therefore I decided to pick up that ones I identify myself/or symphatize with even deeper than any else, I mean that moves me or appeals to me in the way so even if I haven't been there myself (God, how could I even dare to think I'd have guts enough to make it through?), I am easily able to figure my pitiable self to act or perceive in like manner.
Well, first off, looks you must have pissed off some Opiate' officials and magnats somewhere up there, but good... as if you had offended them so outrageously, that they have cast such a bad spell on you. ;D
The truth is, I have kind of "mixed feelings" as for the airports. By one hand, airports doesn't feel "boring" to me.
I'd rather say they provide me with some "awe"-type of experiences, I mean ranging from fear, sense of unsecurity and an utter unpredictability, through excitement to finally end up on the intense relief, as I can see my flight eventually displayed on the departure' screen.
I can remember to be attracted by them since I was a kid (my Father has instilled me it, I guess), as there's some special ambience over there, like almost perceptible "promise" or a "forecast" of mysterious distant places, hanging in the air, if you get me...
By the other hand, however, I'm scared to death of the airports, especially these large ones-you might as well fall dead and nobody cares on you as if the single entity meant nothing to nobody in such a huge crowd and mess/confusion.
Plus, the status of addict doesn't help, since airports are real "Interzones", the points of no return-once you enter it, went through the custom clearance (or how the shit calls)-there's practically no way out to you-if it happened things getting wrong then your move is drastically limited. As if you were caught in a trap, no?
Every time I do "part" with my check-in luggage, entrusting my "to be or not to be" medications to the airlines (fucking "authorities" at that), my heart is bleeding and no matter how stoned/anesthetized I am (I used to board the plane with my average dose of opies and benzos multiplied like at least 2x, if not 3x, barely able to bring myself to stand upright, "just in case"), there's still some "note" of fear "oozing" through this "immune barreer", though.
And well, you make me wonder whether I'd be able to "peel" some sick junkie (like you were) out of the crowd of passengers or not, and vice versa-if some CTying poor thing could recognize this monkey on my back.
I damn sure would be intrigued by some next seat' guy/travel mate, whole wrapped in a blanket, freezing for practically no good reason, compulsive sneezing and sweating, without to be able to sit still...
Nice to meet you, I'd say, >:D, holy shit, such a nasty case of flu, where did you catch it, eh?... But you know, sometimes very little makes a huge difference.
So, be my guest.
I do need to read your other w/d stories really I mean really in-depth, guys.
I did take a briefly look and I know you/they deserve it, every one single tale.
No one should be omitted since all of your stories
(...) plugged me through and through ,
...so to say, Dear Mr Cave...
@Joseph Hopeless ,
I'm about to tell I'd never ever be able to make it through, like you were, but the point is there's no choice, regarding you want to get out alive.
I'm sorry for you've been through, what else could I say? I'm "short of words" or maybe words are too tight to convey it.
No one deserves it, maybe excepting the so called docs like this self-righteous individual you mentioned about.
@chipper ,
I totally get what you mean as for being "TOTAL FUCKING PUSSY" when it comes to opiate w/d.
So I am. I'm a double pussy. PUSSIEST PUSSY, lol. Flat joke. I'm chickening out as the initially symptoms beginns. Hell, the truth is my life is one fucking mess and any thinkable deprivation on analgesia, the SLEEP involving is beyond of me. I don't even able to foresee so long to get/figure out any physical pain of w/d at this moment.
I'm trying to settle for/hang on/stick on the lowest doses ever, that are able to fix me and keep functionable, "just in case"...