1. Dear Drugs-Forum readers: We are a small non-profit that runs one of the most read drug information & addiction help websites in the world. We serve over 4 million readers per month, and have costs like all popular websites: servers, hosting, licenses and software. To protect our independence we do not run ads. We take no government funds. We run on donations which average $25. If everyone reading this would donate $5 then this fund raiser would be done in an hour. If Drugs-Forum is useful to you, take one minute to keep it online another year by donating whatever you can today. Donations are currently not sufficient to pay our bills and keep the site up. Your help is most welcome. Thank you.
    PLEASE HELP

Sometimes life gets better...

Rating:
5/5,
  1. no eff eks
    It was just a year + 1 week ago that I posted a thread in the addiction & recovery forum asking how to put a stop to my MDPV abuse. (here's a link) It is shocking to me how much better my life is now than at that point. From the outside it my not appear that much has changed, but inside my head it's a new world. Feeling accepted and happy for the first time in my adult life is nice... plus the whole not doing speed and keeping off downers for well over a year now. Life can get better, who the fuck knew??

    It took me another ~3 months to actually kick my MDPV habit, but eventually it happened... Oddly enough I'm now quite relieved that I finally found a drug that caused me so much mental anguish that it snapped me out of my tired cycle of abusing every chemical I could find.

    I spent the better part of 7 months wide awake and hating every minute of it. Every single day felt like the worst day of my life. I'd even lost my sanity for a good 2-3 months... that was fucking humbling to say the least. This arrogant self-described genius couldn't tell delusion from fantasy from reality. After weeks of acting fucking bizarre I could no longer hide how fucked up my mind and body were becoming. I wanted so bad to believe it was fake, I convinced myself over and over that I just needed sleep... but sleep never comes when you're lying on your back straining to hear every last sound, terrified that the police/some psychotic stalker would come bursting through my bedroom door at any moment... constantly worried my heart would give out, feeling the blood course through every vein/artery in my body - sure that they were all about to give out and I would die.

    I stopped. Then didn't. Then did. Then didn't... then didn't. By the end I was hiding it well again, but hating myself and my life more and more. The delusions were gone - I was just disappointed in myself. Convinced that I'd never have the strength to find happiness I gave up every night.

    I wish I'd saved myself, but I didn't. My family forced me back to reality when I was crazy... Uncle Sam made MDPV very illegal and I was willing enough to quit that I didn't bother jumping through the hoops I'd need to in order to obtain more. I was still lost though. Angry at myself, then everyone else...

    Somehow my peers didn't give up on me. I guess they must actually like me and I never bothered to care/notice until I had nobody else to turn to. Dude, you have so many wonderful people surrounding you... they keep picking your ass up off the ground, so why not keep trying this time?

    They always said in rehab that in order to recover from addiction you have to hit rock bottom. But there really is no hard rock bottom -- you can always keep digging if that's what you choose. I'm too pretty to ruin my hands frantically digging with that old shovel, now I'm all about climbing trees.... and intercourse.

Comments

To make a comment simply sign up and become a member!