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Insidious addiction and a loss.

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  1. DocBrock
    Ah well, the new empathic additions to synaesthesia have gone. Boo. The luminosity has dropped, as has the sheen. Ah well. It is still there, but needs a quiet room or headphones before it shows.

    Cannabinoids.

    Really, I wish I'd never met them. I ordered some more didn't I.
    The self justification voice got his own way. I found myself reading vendor reply emails.
    Why the fuck didn't some sotto voce get a megaphone and scream at me whilst I was ordering.

    I had a gramme delivered Tuesday. 4am Friday, I've woken and re-ordered. I ran out yesterday. I remember doing it. I also remember thinking 'that's it'
    That was then.
    I remember I didn't question myself whilst ordering. I was fully awake, but driven by that same nagging little acquisition bastard that used to drive my acquisition planning for codeine without tipping off pharmacies as to what I was likely doing.

    I was doing -so- well. Still am in many respects.
    No codeine aside from the elbow incident.
    No PST.
    No other opiate based substances at all.

    Actually quite chuffed by that.

    Oh, now in the same place with cannabinoids as I was with codeine. The usage seems to be to stay level, not get any pleasure, insight or relaxation from it. The difference is, I don't need to leave the house.
    As someone with anxiety issues about leaving his house, coupled with using substances which he strongly suspects can add to that anxiety unknown. Bollocks. I've just shifted the burden from codeine and poppies to cannabinoids haven't I.

    Still some things to work out there then.

    My valium taper has been shot to flames due to recent 'instabilities'. Back on 30mg per day. Problem is, my tolerance hasn't dropped at all from my headier days.
    I took all 30mg at once yesterday evening. Nothing. No calmer than I would have been after chewing a 2mg 10mins before leaving the house. No nice feelings at all.

    So, tolerance for benzos and codeine still currently astronomic. Recognised am addicted to cannabinoids, but don't feel they'll be too much bother. I don't get anything from any of them nowadays, and frankly, the WD symptoms I've had from blends and cannabinoid powders in the past mean I know when the time is right, which is now, I can walk away. A roughish day or so and they're gone.
    Niggle voice already trying to get me to go through the roach farm. What that voice doesn't know is I've thrown that farm away.

    Perhaps flushing it will seal the fate. Bye bye druggywuggy, down the boggywoggy you go, and let that be an expensive lesson.

    Looking back, similar has happened before. I've been giving one drug up, and another's usage has gone through the roof before I've recognised the fact and cut down on that one as well.

    I am not so much disgusted as I understand what brought about the behaviour. What self disgusts me is the vision that I manipulate that mechanism in the future as justification. That'd suck.

    'I bought this because it was the drug what told me to do it honest guv.'

    Really. A fucking drug told you to buy it did it?. Looks and feels like a pathetic argument now doesn't it. An argument with zero merit. Outwitted and manipulated by a fucking powder.

    I'm also a little ashamed that the 'Don't buy the powder you numpty' voice was kept quiet. I made that voice loud once. Now I must make it loud again.

    Still, with all these jubilee celebrations and bank holidays, it won't likely arrive until Wednesday of next week, giving me five days clean of the stuff. That'll help the flushing an easier act to undertake.

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  1. DocBrock
    And true to form postie didn't bring me powders. No further postal deliveries until Wednesday now. Today is Saturday. When I went bed this morning, my motorcycle was OK. that was at 1:30. I got up at 4:00 - 4:30, my motorcycle is still OK. I'd peeked through the curtains at it.
    7:00 and I open the downstairs curtains. There's my bike, minus cover, moved.
    You'd need a hydraulic cutter to get through the chain on the rear, you'd need to move it in a lead lined van to defeat the tracker, you need an angle grinder for the front disc lock. It is a unique bike, adapted for me by me. Each major, and most minor components are security marked.
    The bike has stickers to this effect, so why try to nick a bike that is unique, tracked and identifiable at component level. Twunts. Ignition barrel bollocksed and 'bars bent. Locks left alone, and because the bike only moved a few inches, the tracker didn't go off.
    Still really upset me.
    £144.45 for a new ( Genuine not pattern ) ignition lock plus it will take me most of the lit part of a day to replace.
    Where's my fucking weekend ride-outs, planned because I feel well enough to ride again gone! I was looking forward to that. It was my aim, my goal.
    I'm currently unemployed. I have spent on 'noids the price of a pattern lock that I'd have to rewire a bit, but still....
    I cannot afford to fix my bike. It needs taxing and an MOT this month too. Guess a SORN is on the cards and I'm transportless now.

    Guess what though. Day two without the 'noids. Absolutely -zero- withdrawals!. Must admit I'm sort of waiting for them. The WD's, not the 'noids that is. It can't be this easy after the overriding redose urges, the middle of the night waking ( which may or may not be related ) and the dosing urges then. I no longer feel the 'noids woke me, but I woke and the 'noids voice convinced me now would be a really good time as wifey can't catch me battered. I feel the second is more likely, but no. No 'noid cravings at all!, does that little sod know there aren't any in the house so is keeping schtum?

    No bike, no money, no job, no 'noids. Only one of them can remain unchanged.
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