The Horror W/D Stories-let's go haunting again ;)

[nikita70 (OP)]

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.     
 
                 

[wanderingmind]

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.

[Güey]

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

[theSWPK]

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.

[MoeMentim]

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.

[bonedust]

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.

[Chip]

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 !

[nikita70 (OP)]

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.   

[bonedust]

^^^@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.

[Chip]

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.

[nikita70 (OP)]

@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.   

     

[Chip]

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.

[Smacky-Doodle 2.0]

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.

[Quipen]

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 , 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.

[MoeMentim]

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.