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my story
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2018-06-05 at 11:53 PM UTCIf you beg your parents for drug money as a grown adult you should kill yourself for real and don't half-ass it this time.
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2018-06-06 at 2:23 AM UTCIt was the X-Lax brownies.
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2018-06-06 at 9:30 AM UTCY lax
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2018-06-06 at 11:54 AM UTC
Originally posted by MORALLY SUPERIOR BEING LSD isn't really addictive as tolerance builds quicker than anyone could possibly increase their dose.
That being said I am looking forward to my next trip, most likely on the 9th or 10th of June. You need to leave 2 weeks between administrations to achieve maximum effect.
May not be highly addictive. Still if you become psychologically dependent on it LSD becomes impossible to stop in time and at higher doses the body can react differently causing depression. No benefits in using and by planning your future hits it has already become part of your life. If you want to experience delusional states it's your life...however exploring the hidden need for this would make you healthier even in your mind and the simple fact no one needs an LSD trip. -
2018-06-06 at 6:26 PM UTCI really don't know how your brain resists to that much of substances of any type.
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2019-12-01 at 4:11 PM UTC
Originally posted by Dissociator well I was on lsd, 6 tabs, and a lot of coke. I told my dealer id have some stuff to sell, gold jedielry. scrounged around the house for some and then collected it, about to sell it. my mom came home at some time and when I saw her I yelled begging for money and she wouldn't give it to me, so then one thing lead to another and I pushed her down, hit my dad multiple times, took a knife and tried to cut my stomach open, ran upstairs and threw a rock thru a window.
I slit my wrist and was bleeding out bad, so I wrapped a t shirt around it and ran the fuck away from the house.. made It down the block across a highway where I laid down under a bridge, In a swamp like area, tried to build a house with sticks of bamboo or whatever kind of bamboo/woodesque plant would grow in nj.
I got bored after a while and gave myself up to the cops.
got psychwarded for a month, got sent to a dual diagnosis hospital for 2 weeks, then a partial hospital for 2 weeks, now im at a group home/sober house in florida
questions?
Originally posted by aldra 6 tabs isn't all that much, depending on dosage per tab of course
sounds like good times
Like hell. Ask me & shamby -
2019-12-01 at 5:52 PM UTCYou should have stayed in the jungle and finished that bamboo house.
You could have avoided rehab and learned to live off the land and have a simple life as a man that lives in natureThe following users say it would be alright if the author of this post didn't die in a fire! -
2019-12-01 at 6:54 PM UTCnature doesnt like men.
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2019-12-01 at 6:56 PM UTCToo bad for it
STRIKE THE EARTH -
2019-12-06 at 12:07 PM UTCUr story didnt involve fucking niggers, so I didnt care for it.
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2024-01-08 at 2:12 AM UTC
Originally posted by Dissociator well they did a Subutex taper but it didn't help at all.. Subutex doesn't even touch 90mg of methadone, which raised my opie tolerance for life
also do you mind reading this, ive completed part 1
Coney island brain damage, by Kuje tej
well I had the intention for this report/book/paper/essay in a notebook which is now AWOL so I guess I'll start from the beginning
Age 12, or 13, I dont even fucking remember, I started doing drugs. I remember my first drug experience very vividly. My sister was having a panic attack and I saw he gave her a pill, that pill being xanax, and I was enthralled by the sense of serenity I witnessed.
It just so happens that I suffer from lifelong anxiety, I didn't even know I had it until the first time I took xanax. I sort of played my dad to be honest, having an illegitamate panic attack for the sole purpose of trying that drug. Thirty minutes later I felt.. human. I didnt know how much I was missing out on until I took that drug. I was able to just.. sit.. and observe life, carry out my creative pursuits (which happened to be a stick figure riding a skateboard.
Guy takes xanax and the first thing he does is draw a fucking stick figure riding a skateboard with a fountain pen he ordered online just to have.. no particular reason, just.. to have. and Xanax made having fucking awesome. Having my room, my house, my family, my life.. it all just felt right.
I dont know if I was 12 or 13 like I said but I remember middle school being so much tolerable on benzos.. being able to think about my work and stay in the moment, not just being a walking sack of stress neurons with no flow. With xanax as a tool at my disposal, socializing was so much easier its not even funny. I continued to use xanax regularly without my parents finding out until the summer of 2012.. the best summer of my life. I'll get into that later
The first time I ever took adderall, was a little bit later than the first time I took xanax.. probably months. I was working on a project in gimp (a gay porning software) trying to alter my face to make myself look less ugly. There is so much freudian analysis that can come from that.. altering my face, taking adderall, then spending 12 fucking hours trying to make my nose look alright or whatever.. thankfully my quest of ALL (I will also get into that later) Gave me tons of summer fun, taking my runescape pill, which I jokingly called adderall, going to the beach club with my best friend Charlie (who I also will get into in a later chapter)
, rekindling a friendship with a guy I knew in gradeschool who turned out to be a really good friend, a lot more relatable than charlie, but with less of a brotherly love aspect. I'm not gay and I'm not going to get into my friendships in depth, unless it is relevant to this log. A life story? A journey from age 12 to 19 in a pharmacological lagoon? The swansong to a rehab rejact living with a bunch of people in south florida?
The success story of a woke individual who found himself after a long battle with addiction?
Pick your poison. I picked mine.
Chapter 2
I want to skip ahead of the adolescent tirade I had from late 2012 until 2013, except for the bundy
I dont remember if my lack of adderall and xanax once my mom raided my room and found them led to me doing bundy, or if it was just an interest in a potentially beneficial legal drug. Despite being inexperienced with psychedelics, and also being fuckin 13, I handled bundy extremely well. My first affair with it was in late 2012, with coricidin, the legendary triple cs. The result was amazing.
I had only taken a first plateau dose, but so many layers were opened up, like going from a one track mind to an onion of neuronal symphonium. Long story short, I found my new drug.
I associate bundy with jeremy, probably because, my drug use fractured my friendship with charlie right then and there. When he found out I was doing drugs on the reg and talking about them like its.. what do 13 year olds like talking about… world of warcraft? batman? sex? … I dont know where im going with this so I digress, in a nutshell jeremy didnt give two fucks if I did drugs and was even open to the prospect of being my protege in the fine artisan colossol contentitous creatidivine prospectdefine chemical cousin.
Sorry about that. Trianglist is my native tongue (more on that in chapter 333)
So, I continued to do bundy.. I also had started seeing a psychiatrist to get my pharmaco-du-jour, concerta, the staple stimulant, various antidepressants, antipsychotics and mood stabilizers.. I guess thats what drugs will do to ya. make you rely on chemicals both useful and pointless just to get by.
Highschool was a fucking mess, I'm not even going to try to make it seem non-catastrophic. I was at the point in my life where I weighed 230 pounds, had fucked up neurochemistry from the drugs, and being a polysubstance abuser, and to me, that meant copious amounts of stimulants, deleriants, and whatever benzos I could get to quel my screaming soul. I missed multiple days a week, I didnt know where the classrooms are, I went to the nurse nearly every day to get a pass to go home for whateverthefuck ailment I was dealing with.
2013 was not a good year at all. Chapter 2
2014 on the other hand, was baller as fuck. I discovered this amazing chemical called propylhexedrine (as I like to call it, purple hexagon). An over the counter stimulant packed inside a fuckin oil tampon (cotton rod soaked in menthol and lavender) . By far the most uncomfortable thing Ive ever had the displeasure of tasting. The cotton is eaten (not reccomended, the right way is to soak it in soda for a day or find a way to manifest the freebase crystals). This shit made me fly so high its not even funny. The fact that its apparently a mainly noradrenergic drug with very low affinity for dopamine is also baffling. I had discovered legal meth.
This is when my current life begins. I had been kicked out of my band, gone under, the year previous, as charlie (lead vocalist and bands token heartthrob) moved on to greener pasteurs and the rest of us were left in the dust. I started experimenting with different styles of music, both on guitar and bass. The purp hex made it so fucking worthwhile that I've made hundreds of albums.
A benzedrex high is as follows: You eat cotton or ingest it to your hearts content, and you wait for about 45 minutes until you start feeling a boost of energy. This goes on for another 20 minutes as the body euphoria rises and your energy meets with the goddess of mental bliss and youre in the zone. Make sure youre doing something productive because if youre not youre about to spend hours either staring into nothingness or a crippling restless angst that comes in the form of lack of purpose.
Well might as well talk about spice. I smoked synthetic cannabinoids for the first time in late 2014 with jeremy. This was the most euphoric high I've ever had, and based on how jeremy reacted, through manic fast talking and obviously entheogenically affected as he seemed to be in a euphoria not unlike how a child feels in the beginning years of their life, exploring the workings of the world for the first time with an innocent manner, jeremy, who I feel had repressed feelings about his life, his friends, or himself. That is why the euphoric sense he felt appeared in a very … non malicious way. My high was also like that, sweeping away the annoying intricacies of lifes dull movements, and forgetting my past and future and just focusing on the zooming by of the Electric light orchestra starship while the music cleansed my soul of all dissonance.
They say spice makes you violent, well , it honestly depends on the cannabinoid and the individual. It is so hard to pin down what chemical you are ingesting and how it will interact with your natural neurotransmission. Its like being exposed to hundreds of newly developed chemicals and having no clue which ones youre taking. Well, thats exactly how it goes.
But I think theres an innate quality in spice that can lead to complete and utter universe implosion. One bad vibe can send you from comfortably numb to flat out schizohell.
Towards the end of my first spice high, my eyes caught a razorblade lying on my desk. One look at jeremy . Him giving a look to the blade. NO NO NO he says WAIT WAIT WAIT I say. And I go to throw the blade into an inaccessable quadrant of 15-yr-old-room-mess , just to get it away.
We both knew what eachother was thinking, and it completely fucked over the trip. Long story short I gave him a bit of spizz to keep and hastily made him GTFO my house before he killed me.
Chapter 3- A whole new side of the intergalactic tide
I'd like to start this chapter summing up what drove me into insanity for the last time. I was in a rut. Late 2017. The year had been both filled with intense feelings and also complete destruction. July 7 2017, I was hanging out with John. Many doses of a stimulant, focalin, were split between us, and we jammed all day. Towards the night, we were hanging out with a drug dealer and I of course gave him a sample of the drug. I was movin on up in the world, chillin with a dealer, what could go wrong?
Well my obvious mental instability was attempted to be quelled by John who, I dont know if he maliciously took my pills to have for himself and used friendly caring as a ruse, or if he was genuinliy concerned about my health.
Well my health soon came to crisis as we got into a fist fight, one thing lead to another and I was screaming, bleeding from my head, as a glass had just been smashed over it.
This is when my life changed for good.
Post injury, there was no longer a calmness to the silence, or a roar of rebellion from inside my cerebellum, but a burnt out state of the art wallowing months of hell. Spice I dove into again, stimulants I still fucked with but had lost their charm, and my sanity had been sapped one iota by one. The light is no more.
And then I get on methadone.
My moms suggestion, to help with my opiate addiction. Worst thing that ever happened to me, I became emaciated and my teeth were rotting out, I spent all of my time doing as many drugs as possible to potentiate whatever ''buzz'' I got from the deathadone. I became very angry and agitated, despite being on a soothing opiate, my delusions were still going full force. They started in early 2017 and sort of remained there and still exist. My first true blue brain symptom, as when not on drugs, either on meds or off meds, my delusions stayed, and that really sucks. The head injury gave me OCD about my brain shrinking, coupled with skull changing shape and the posibility of never being able to feel again.
bundy and dph became companions, every day I lay in bed, smoking pot, robotripping and passing out into a methadone coma. By far the darkest point in my life, worse than any other situation. This time I was taking drugs to just not.. exist. I didnt want to die, I just didnt want to feel. At this point drugs became my life, and my life became the drugs. I'm surprised I even came out of it.
Chapter 4- the bedeadinings
2014 was a huge change in my life. I got held back freshman year, and started going to over the summer tutoring sessions. For that I got focalin from my doctor. First time I took it I knew it was my new vice. There was a heated physical and mental stimulation, probably adrenergic, which made me shake and also I was pretty fucking coked out even when I took the pills orally.
Long story short I stopped going to tutoring and spent most of my time taking nootropics (phenibut, a gabapentinoid which to me is a life saver, takes away all the unneccesary stress and smooths out the rough edges of perception.
I started snorting focalin for a long ass time, over the summer though it was still new and therefore memorable. I spent most of my time on the internet, forums for drug addicts, websites with drug reports, havens for socially inept degenerates, like zoklet.
Zoklet was pretty much a conglomoration of deadbeats and drug addicts, old and young burnouts, and rarely a female at all. This site was my fucking savior, as I finally found a place where I could relate with people
During my journeys, I met a curious person named schplew. Spice, he smoked, and I learned that I needed it in my life too. The depth of the theories, writings, preachings and seizinh caught my interest and I had just met my best friend,
John, I didnt talk to alot until about early 2015, we were both on the same wavelength and it was and is a friendship that I've never experiences before. I can talk to him about any fucking thing on my mind and 9 times out of 10 he'll relate to a derivative of my insanity. Life had finally come to order, atleast for the time being. I felt happy.
And then spice. I ordered a bag of scooby snax brand online, same day that fuckin Jeremy came over my house to hangout. So i was like fuck it, lets both trip out. I took a hit off a soda can, he took a hit, and we were teleported into the 5th fucking dimension
music moved with my soul, I was being sucked into a void and blasted millions of lightyears all at once. I was listening to turn to stone by elo and the fucking starship album cover became alive and i was in space.
Jeremy though, being autistic, had a more… profound? Reaction.
He was flailing, moving his arms, head, rambling gibberish, but at a point he said “Ive never felt like this, life is congruent”. And i knew what he meant so well. Chemicals can be eye opening no matter what the substance, a person could even get a life revelation on fucking starter fluid.
Although it seems like i was doing whatever drug i could get my hand on, its not the case. I had a regiment of stimulants, benzos, opiates, and weed/spice. Mixed together in ALL combinations, having a quadrant of innermind to contort.
Chapter 5
I'm going to skip the rest and just delve into my life currently. In a nutshell, 2016 I met Chris, who became my second friend (I lost alot of friends) met him through John, first time I met chris at the train station he gave me suboxone, and that was incredible. Honestly it changed my life and made everything alot less chaotic. We didnt just hang out for drugs, we had a genuine friendship, but more on the surface side. We both had a mutual understanding about social niceties, what not to say, what to keep on the DL when his girlfriend is there.. with John its a brotherly friendship.
2016 I did alot more exercising, and I had gone from about 200 to 160, mostly in mid 2017 when I was doing alot of stimulants.
I'm going to get to one of the most life changing experiences now,
I was hanging with John. We both had done copious amounts of dexmethylphenidate and benzos, and I started to fiend bad towards the end of the day. We were hanging out with a drug dealer, I gave him a taste of focalin and he loved it. He invited us in for drinks and made promises of crack and hookers. I was all for it, but john took my pills and ran back to his place, trying to prevent me overdosing probably.
When I got back to the house, he was holding a fucking knife. I honestly thought I was going to die right there. I mustve sobered up quickly because I got him to put the knife down. The act of stealing MY stuff is what pissed me off, not the drugs themselves.
We got into a fistfight, and then BOOM. I start bleeding all over the place. My head had been cut open from John smashing a glass into it. OH MY GOD OH MY GOD is all I could say. I honestly thought I was going to die. I got a towel and held it on my head but John didnt call the ambulence, he waited until his dad was home before anything could be done. That i have to say is a really dick move as I couldve died. His dad took a look at my cut and determined I needed stitches because a piece of flesh was just hanging off.
Into the ambulence after about 10 minutes of waiting, got a shot of morphine, then 9 staples and stayed overnight. Went back to new jersey the next day
I dont know if the incident caused permanent brain damage, as my head was very swollen, and the spot I was hit in is right where the left frontal lobe is, the logic center of the brain . Impulse control. My addiction skyrocketed after the incident so I'd have to say I do have slight brain damage.
This is it for the past.
Chapter 6
Present: I spent 4 weeks in the hospital, they kept me on methadone. The incident that led to that was, I was on coke and 6 tabs of LSD. I was looking around the house for my moms gold jedilery I could sell for more drugs. She caught me and one thing led to another and I pushed her down, she fell over, I slit my wrist, tried to cut open my stomach, and broke a fucking window with a rock. Then I ditched home because I wasnt about to deal with more fucking cops, Ive had enough of that for a lifetime. I ran across a highway about a quarter of a mile away from my house. I ran under a bridge and pretty much sat in a swamp. I actually thought this was a possible choice to be my new home. So I started working on it. Made a crude little structure out of fucking reeds, and sat there for about a half hour. I knew my fate was inevitable so I gave myself up to the cops.
The 2 weeks in the next hospital (detox off methadone for 2 weeks) were fucking brutal. Methadone has the worst withdrawal of anything I've ever taken. The most pain I've ever had, even including a spice overdose. Methadone was by far the worst.
90 mg to 0 in one day. They gave me 12mg suboxone, then 12, 10, 8, 6, 2, 1mg or some shit. The bullshit subs didnt even help slightly . I was writhing in pain all day, couldnt sit in a chair because my back was so contorted, couldnt look people in the eyes.. it was just a fiasco I'm glad is over.
The partial (thats what they call living in an apartment with roomies then going to groups in another building during the day) alot more freedom. My roommate was Muhammad, who I knew from the previous facility. Honestly I wasnt looking forward to hanging with him but we became best friends in there after a few days. He had cancer and also had a head injury, but damn he had motivation and a positive mood. Always looking at stuff with the glass filled with water too, not optimistic or pessamistic but grounded to the here and now.
Another memorable person was Evan, also 19 years old. We became friends too, he is a pharmabro so I was able to talk to him about drugs and how they work. But he had more of a mature vibe than I do, I can tell. He really wants to get better, he even hosted a NA meeting every night at the residence. Because the required groups werent enough, we actually needed to be with peers and talk, without staff members censoring what we say because its not “appropriate” or politically correct. I am glad though that I'm out too. I got a 2 week ride which was a bonus because originally they said it would be 45 days
Now I'm in a halfway house, its only been a day but I'm finally free.. it is a good feeling indeed.
End of part 1
I sure hope you sobered up and haven't been rotting away in jail Joseph Zeller.
https://publicindex.sccourts.org/Horry/PublicIndex/PISearch.aspx
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2024-01-08 at 2:13 AM UTChe dead
