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Lambruh
New member
About a year and some change ago, some folks on here might recall when I was hit by that drunk driver heading home one night. My buddy and I were T-boned at approx 30mph, broke my collar, femur, ribs, ankle - all on my right side. I was bed ridden for a couple months and was scribed on meds for alonggggg time. I was put on 50mg of mscont's split daily for some ti till they tapered me down to percs which I was on for awhile, a while meaning I started buying my own after they took me off my script that refilled for 16 weeks. At the time I denied being addicted because I used the accident as an excuse to use, reality was my pain wasn't from the accident 6 months previously, it's cus I was dope sick and kept putting myself through withdraws.
Some months pass, I would kick the use for a month or two here and there. Once in awhile take a perc, done, oxy etc, one night spree type deals. Well, about three months ago in June I was laid off from what I thought was my lifelong career. In the same week my father had a heart attack was thrown into intensive care. Big bills, panic mode, anxiety, sadness, guilt, shame, self hate and instanly blowing up my dude for pills to numb my mind. For the first week I was eating percs and zooting oxy's, I didn't give a fuck because I filed for unemployment and figured I could get high till it kicked into my account. Well in Ohio it takes a month for the application to get through, so I was getting high for awhile. The binge went from one week to two, then the pills weren't cutting it and I went to heroin to cut costs (80 oxy for $50 is a fucking rape job). I never really messed with dogfood much previously so I only was blowing a bundle of dope a day, splitting it throughout the day, bored as fuck, no job and all I did was workout and party. Three week binge then turned intravenous, once I felt that rush it was all down hill and I loved nodding out so much that nothing mattered.
When I started booting up at first i'd buy a gram of chunk, preload syringes and head out to bars. Nobody knew I was using heroin and definitely not shooting shit up, i'd run back to my car or someones bathroom and bang it, come out like nothing happened. IMO people will accept alcoholics, hippies and even a little coke is fine, but once someone see's heroin, they lose complete respect and you're a loser (and it is because shooting dope is fucking disgusting). My month binge started to carry over to 4, 5, 6 weeks, in that time I sold my winter plow truck for $8k and stopped talking to all friends and family. With that cash in hand my use went from a gram daily to 2-3 grams, I started to fall in love with the needle, sitting around trying to find the next vein became a fun hobby. Lonely for days, havn't eating, didn't matter because all I needed was the high.
Mid August I broke down emotionally, decided to go cold turkey and stop. The next morning I woke up shaking, sweating, paranoid, scared in my own skin. I started getting the withdrawls from a two month heroin binge and never felt anything like it. The doc threw me on clonidine and tramadol, told me to go to a suboxone clinic and be in intensive outpatient therapy. The suboxone clinic threw me on 16mg split daily but it was just knocking me out all day feeling stupid. I even made a thread on here during that time asking about subox saying it was for my sister cus I was so ashamed of being an addict. About a week on subox and I decided to check myself into a real rehab clinic and detox off all the meds completely.
On Aug 30, I bought 2 grams of tar and preloaded 10 syringes for the 2 hour trip up to rehab. I figured if it was my last time I'd go out with some bang. My eyes were crossed and I was nodding out at the wheel on the highway, it was the dumbest fucking thing I ever did. Thinking about it now, my dad asked me if he could take me to rehab and I said no at the time, imagine if I would of died at the wheel. This is what tore me up in rehab, thinking about what was at stake to lose: family, friends, loved ones.
I've been outta rehab for a week now, 29 days clean and feel great. Doing the 90 NA meetings in 90 days, IOP, talking to a pysch, everything. I went into rehab wanting to get clean, paid attention, started working the 12 steps and keeping at it. I'm not all into the higher power idea but the philosophy behind it is great. It's amazing how much I learned about myself in there and the common mental aspects that all addicts share.
It sucks though, i'm a smoker, when I look down at my shirt/pants/shorts, I have burn holes in alot of them. Even though i'm clean, I have that shit triggering me and constantly reminding me that i'm an addict for life. It's crazy what heroin can do and how fast it gets you, honestly never thought i'd use or get hooked on that shit. 2 months use, 1 month clean and i'm still thinking about the trips to get it, finding the vein, drawing up, etc atleast 10 times every hour, it's so hard. You can smoke crack, do hits of acid, PCP, meth and wake up the next day fine. Once you do a night of shooting smack, you're sick for days after until you get that next hit and that's what makes it so hard to break. The withdrawls scare the shit outta me, that and my family is the biggest reason to never use again. Only God can grant me the serinity, that drug had me completely powerless
writing and opening up about this is suppose to be "therapy" for me, apologize for the length
Some months pass, I would kick the use for a month or two here and there. Once in awhile take a perc, done, oxy etc, one night spree type deals. Well, about three months ago in June I was laid off from what I thought was my lifelong career. In the same week my father had a heart attack was thrown into intensive care. Big bills, panic mode, anxiety, sadness, guilt, shame, self hate and instanly blowing up my dude for pills to numb my mind. For the first week I was eating percs and zooting oxy's, I didn't give a fuck because I filed for unemployment and figured I could get high till it kicked into my account. Well in Ohio it takes a month for the application to get through, so I was getting high for awhile. The binge went from one week to two, then the pills weren't cutting it and I went to heroin to cut costs (80 oxy for $50 is a fucking rape job). I never really messed with dogfood much previously so I only was blowing a bundle of dope a day, splitting it throughout the day, bored as fuck, no job and all I did was workout and party. Three week binge then turned intravenous, once I felt that rush it was all down hill and I loved nodding out so much that nothing mattered.
When I started booting up at first i'd buy a gram of chunk, preload syringes and head out to bars. Nobody knew I was using heroin and definitely not shooting shit up, i'd run back to my car or someones bathroom and bang it, come out like nothing happened. IMO people will accept alcoholics, hippies and even a little coke is fine, but once someone see's heroin, they lose complete respect and you're a loser (and it is because shooting dope is fucking disgusting). My month binge started to carry over to 4, 5, 6 weeks, in that time I sold my winter plow truck for $8k and stopped talking to all friends and family. With that cash in hand my use went from a gram daily to 2-3 grams, I started to fall in love with the needle, sitting around trying to find the next vein became a fun hobby. Lonely for days, havn't eating, didn't matter because all I needed was the high.
Mid August I broke down emotionally, decided to go cold turkey and stop. The next morning I woke up shaking, sweating, paranoid, scared in my own skin. I started getting the withdrawls from a two month heroin binge and never felt anything like it. The doc threw me on clonidine and tramadol, told me to go to a suboxone clinic and be in intensive outpatient therapy. The suboxone clinic threw me on 16mg split daily but it was just knocking me out all day feeling stupid. I even made a thread on here during that time asking about subox saying it was for my sister cus I was so ashamed of being an addict. About a week on subox and I decided to check myself into a real rehab clinic and detox off all the meds completely.
On Aug 30, I bought 2 grams of tar and preloaded 10 syringes for the 2 hour trip up to rehab. I figured if it was my last time I'd go out with some bang. My eyes were crossed and I was nodding out at the wheel on the highway, it was the dumbest fucking thing I ever did. Thinking about it now, my dad asked me if he could take me to rehab and I said no at the time, imagine if I would of died at the wheel. This is what tore me up in rehab, thinking about what was at stake to lose: family, friends, loved ones.
I've been outta rehab for a week now, 29 days clean and feel great. Doing the 90 NA meetings in 90 days, IOP, talking to a pysch, everything. I went into rehab wanting to get clean, paid attention, started working the 12 steps and keeping at it. I'm not all into the higher power idea but the philosophy behind it is great. It's amazing how much I learned about myself in there and the common mental aspects that all addicts share.
It sucks though, i'm a smoker, when I look down at my shirt/pants/shorts, I have burn holes in alot of them. Even though i'm clean, I have that shit triggering me and constantly reminding me that i'm an addict for life. It's crazy what heroin can do and how fast it gets you, honestly never thought i'd use or get hooked on that shit. 2 months use, 1 month clean and i'm still thinking about the trips to get it, finding the vein, drawing up, etc atleast 10 times every hour, it's so hard. You can smoke crack, do hits of acid, PCP, meth and wake up the next day fine. Once you do a night of shooting smack, you're sick for days after until you get that next hit and that's what makes it so hard to break. The withdrawls scare the shit outta me, that and my family is the biggest reason to never use again. Only God can grant me the serinity, that drug had me completely powerless
writing and opening up about this is suppose to be "therapy" for me, apologize for the length
